A Night at The Ivy

Disclaimer: I do not own Artemis Fowl and/or any related characters. If I did, Holly and Artemis would have gotten together in TOD.

Dear Mr. Fowl

You are formally invited to a meeting of the world's greatest entrepreneurs at

The Ivy Restaurant and Lounge, this Saturday at eight o'clock.

Formal attire only, invitees may bring one guest.

Please RSVP by this Wednesday.

It was nearing midnight, but the Ivy Restaurant's private room was still buzzing with activity. Laughter and conversation flowed as freely as the champagne and candle light sparkled off the silver ware and crystal, giving the room a very dreamy, surreal look. Gathered in small clusters throughout the room, the world's most prominent businessmen discussed politics and gold. Dinner and dessert were complete, and the men and women had left the confines of the dining tables to mingle with others.

Absorbed in one of these conversations, was Artemis Fowl. Despite his age, the young Irishman fit in perfectly with the older business men. The invitation had boasted a meeting of the world's greatest entrepreneurs, by Artemis knew better. In the world of business, the word 'entrepenuer' could easily have been read 'criminal' and Artemis had plenty of experience with that field of work. Besides, who in the working world hadn't heard of the Fowl Empire?

"Why Mr. Fowl, I must say I have not laughed so much since I was a boy. You've got quite the wit there son, remind me of myself when I was in my twenties," chuckled one of Artemis' new companions, one hand on his ample stomach and the other around the waist of the thin, fair woman who pretended to be his wife at social functions.

Artemis smiled dazzlingly at the man, and thought happily to himself, 'That may be so, but I'm barely eighteen. No need to tell him that though; champagne tastes a whole lot nicer than apple juice or soda.'

"Oh, I simply must introduce you to my daughter! She'd just love you to pieces!" cried one of the other wives, her cheeks flushed from the alcohol.

"Don't push him Diane, he's probably got much more important things on his mind than marriage," scolded her husband gently, winking at Artemis.

"More important than marriage?" The wife practically shrieked, as though this was the most outrageous thing she had ever heard, "He's a young man Clarence! He probably thinks of nothing else!"

'Clarence' sighed and pulled his wife away from the group, saying something about getting another drink while Artemis tried not to blush and stare at his feet.

"Don't give her much thought," another man advised, "She's been trying to marry her daughter off for ages but nobody will take her, even with all the money. I heard she's got these horrible warts on her nose, like a witch."

"Oh really?" Artemis mumbled, only partially interested. In these elite circles, marriage was often discussed between families. The idea was quite medieval, arranged marriages, but sometimes necessary among the biggest families. Artemis hated the concept, and had once been in a yelling match over it with his father, Quinn Fowl IV. They hadn't broached the topic since. The gentlemen was right, he had more important things to worry about than marriage.

"Well, I think I'd like another drink, how about you fine gentlemen?" suggested an owner of a large Greek shipping company. The other men nodded jovially and strolled towards the open bar where a very weary young man endlessly served drinks to thirsty crooks.

Artemis stayed at the back of the room, preferring not to have his judgment impaired by another drink. There were major opportunities to take advantage of here tonight, million dollar deals to be made, and he needed to stay sharp. His eyes roamed the crowd, looking for an opening in conversation or anyone he knew. Unfortunately, no one returned his gaze, too absorbed in their own conversations and drink.

'Oh well,' Artemis thought, 'I've been at this for nearly four hours, time to relax a bit.' It was true, since arriving, young Artemis Fowl had already made three large business deals and had collected several business cards with promises to call during the next week. Plus, thanks to his apparent wit and charm, no one would forget his name after tonight. No longer would he be overshadowed by his father.

After several minutes, Artemis' sapphire eyes alighted on a pair of wide French doors, leading on to the balcony. A little fresh air would probably do him some good, and he was getting a tad warm in his coat and tails.

Working his way through the crowd, Artemis finally reached the doors and pushed them open. Cool and refreshing night air washed over him as he stood at the threshold. It was early October and the fall air was crisp. Behind him, Artemis heard several men complain loudly about the cold, and he quickly stepped onto the balcony, shutting the doors behind him. Enjoying the feel of the night air, Artemis stepped towards the black, wrought iron railing and leaned his back against it, his face turned to the heavens above. The sky was like black velvet, scattered with diamonds here and there despite the light pollution from the city. The moon shone like a giant white medallion, casting London in an eerie silver glow.

"Shouldn't you be inside, embezzling money or something?"

Artemis jumped and whirled around, trying to see who had spoken. As silently as a shadow herself, a young woman stepped out of the darkness and appraised Artemis. Despite himself, he caught his breath.

She was by far the most beautiful woman Artemis had ever seen. Her hair was light brown, soft like the pelt of a young deer and she had deep, chocolate brown eyes framed in dark lashes. Her skin was pale, like his, but glowed with healthy radiance. She was dressed in a beautiful pearl white gown, modest and chaste.

"Are you going to answer my question or not?" she demanded.

Artemis forced himself to form complete sentences before speaking, "I just came out for a breather, like you."

"A breather? Yes, I guess that's right," the woman scoffed and crossed her arms.

"Who did you come here with?" Artemis asked, curious. He had not seen the woman during dinner or afterwards.

"My father. Herald Ross, you probably met him."

Artemis remembered the man, tall and imposing. A little bit like his own father, but much more British. He hadn't wanted to speak much and was one of the few who judged Artemis by his age, "Yes, I met him."

"And may I ask who accompanied you, Mr- ?" she asked, still not loosing her suspicious glare.

"Fowl, Artemis Fowl. And I came by myself. Took me forever to convince my bodyguard."

"Mr Artemis Fowl," the girl laughed quietly, "Isn't that a name? Not very Irish. Wasn't Artemis a Greek goddess?"

Artemis bit his lip, most days he hated his name, "My mother had quite a fascination with Greek mythology. I was to be named Artemis whether I was born girl or boy."

"Had quite a fascination?" the girl said, not missing the past tense.

"She died two years ago. Leukemia."

"Oh, I'm so sorry," she said, finally dropping her guard. She leaned forward to rest her arms on the railing and looked down into the garden below.

"It's okay. We weren't very close, mother and I," Artemis said with a touch of sadness in his voice.

They were silent for a while until she said, "You still haven't answered my question. This should be a prime business opportunity for you, with all these rich criminals here."

"It has. Many lucrative business partnerships have been born from tonight. But alas, I'm tired and needed a rest from all the conversation. What about you Miss Ross? Why aren't you in there with your father?"

"I've refused to attend, that's why. I hate my father and all of these business meetings. There isn't an honest man in this entire restaurant and all father is interested in is setting me up with some fat, old millionaire," she said, her fists clenched in anger. For the first time, Artemis noticed that she was shivering violently and her delicate lips were almost blue from cold.

"Have you been out here all night?" Artemis said suddenly, outraged by the thought, "Did your father send you out here?"

"No," she said, "I said I refused to attend, but my father insisted. We fought and I volunteered to stay out here, in protest."

"For four hours! That's just idiotic! You'll freeze to death at this rate," Artemis said, quickly trying to shrug out of his tuxedo jacket. The girl's hand was suddenly on his arm.

"Do not call me an idiot and do not give me chivalry Fowl. I can take care of myself."

"Fine," Artemis retorted. He had to admit, this girl was intriguing to him. He'd never fought with a young woman before, nor seen one with such bad manners. "Do really hate your father and his business that much?"

The girl considered this thought for a moment, then said, "My entire life, I have fought with my father and stood for everything he's against. I am a humanitarian, technically, my father, and everyone else here's worst enemy."

Artemis remembered his own father scoffing the United Nations' work and suddenly felt sorry for the girl and a little bit guilty for being a criminal, "Well, just because you're a humanitarian, doesn't mean you can't enjoy yourself. Being a good person doesn't have to mean sacrificing fun, unless your dream is to be a martyr."

Miss Ross laughed, "What did you have in mind?"

"Well, let's see," Artemis looked around the balcony with a mock expression of surprise, "There doesn't seem to be anybody else out here but us, and since you seem to despise me-"

"I do not," she said quickly, then covered her mouth, as though the words had slipped out without her permission.

Artemis smirked and then, with more bravery than he felt, took the girl's slim hand from off the railing and kissed it gently, looking up into her surprised face, "Well in that case, may I have this dance?"

Her hand still in Artemis', the girl looked away, blushing, and then said, "If you must."

"Excellent," the young Fowl said and took the strange girl by the waist. She reluctantly put her hand on his shoulder, and they began to waltz, without music or beat, the only sounds being the London traffic below and the constant rumble of chatter from The Ivy.

"For someone who hates these kinds of parties, you certainly dance well Miss Ross."

"Wasn't it you that said even humanitarians are allowed to have fun?"

The two danced for what seemed like minutes, but was actually nearing an hour. By that time, it wasn't just the girl that was shivering, though she eventually took Artemis' coat.

Knock, Knock, Knock!

Artemis and the girl turned to look at the balcony doors, through which they could see Harold Ross, a stern look on his face. He was mouthing, "Let's go."

"Well, I guess that's my cue," Miss Ross said with a shrug and dropped her hands. Artemis, however, held on to her waist and one hand.

"When will I see you again?" he asked, almost pleading.

She smiled, wary of her father's gaze, "I don't know. Next gathering of criminals I guess. I'll ask my father," she tried to pull her hands away, but Artemis held on persistently.

"At least tell me your name Miss Ross, before you go."

"Angeline, Angeline Ross."

"That's a beautiful name. Shall I call you Angel for short?" he leaned forward, whispering in her ear.

"Only if I can call you Timmy."

Artemis balked at the nickname and finally let go of Angeline's hands, stepping back. She slowly took off his jacket, dragging their moment together out. Harold knocked on the door impatiently again.

"Good bye Angeline Ross, until next time."

"Yes, goodbye Artemis Fowl," she turned to open the door, her father glaring at her from inside. Her hand hovered over the brass latch when suddenly she turned to Artemis and reached out to touch him. She placed one delicate hand under his chin and pulled his face close. Freezing lips touched freezing lips. Instinctively, Artemis put his hands on Angeline's waist while her father almost yelled in outrage from inside the restaurant.

"Until next time," Angeline breathed the promise into the young man's ear and stepped back reluctantly. With a longing gaze that made Artemis' heart pound painfully, she opened the door and let herself be led into the crowd by her father. Artemis stood on his toes to watch her go, following the soft brown head of hair through the assembly of 'businessmen'.

Artemis thought with a smile, 'Next time can not come soon enough.'

****

Author's Note: Well, there you go: the story of Artemis and Angeline. I was inspired to write this after writing the latest chapter of 'While You Were Out' and re-reading the beginning of TTP, where Artemis Senior mentions this meeting. I hope that everyone was in character and that Angeline and Artemis' back-stories made sense. Anyways, thank you so much for reading, and know that your opinions and comments are quite welcomed via. a review!