Hello peoples of Earth, Canada and beyond! This is Whisp here hoping you like my first fanfiction. My first crossover of this kind, anyway. The funniest thing is, when I began this I had only the name. I had no plot, no setting, no nothing! Lame, right? But now I have a story and stuff, soooooo, I'm ready to go! I will apologize in advance for my most certainly-going-to-be-horrible updating schedule. More specifically, my lack of one. I will be publishing chapters as I write them, and I have no set chapter number. So please bear with me here, I'm a bit new. So if you read all the way to the end of this ridiculously long Author's Note, then have a good reading. If you didn't, have one anyway.

The story, dear readers, is on!

The Infamous Question

Chapter One: The Unknown Answer

The cafe where the man sat was not crowded. The tarnished chrome tables so normally filled with chattering college students and working adults were devoid of life. The booths, with their chipping paint and cracked tables were no better. However, it was not surprising. Anyone who hadn't gone away for the holiday had a better place to be than some dinky cafe. But the only patron did not mind. The silence was welcome to the man. The perfect place to think of a next move in this great game. He sat silently, every so often tapping away at his laptop. it was as if the universe had a cruel sense of irony, that the only person in the cafe had no intention of purchasing anything. The waitresses and cashier were all too aware of this, seeing as the waitresses were nowhere to be found and the teenager at the cash register was busy on her mobile phone.

The perfect silence in which the man found space to think was shattered when the rusty bell hanging at the door tinkled merrily, offsetting the rather gloomy interior. The individual who slunk through the door he had opened was also at odds with the cheerful sound. His eyes immediately flicked to the man in the booth. With no more than a second of thought, he sat down in front of him. His eyes flicked above his laptop for a second and he sat back, closing it. The stranger who had just arrived was most definitely strange. The fact that stood out most to the man was the fact that the stranger was no older than fourteen. A boy. He had raven hair that had been meticulously brushed back from his forehead, showing off sparkling sapphire eyes. This was obviously someone who cared about physical appearances. This idea was enhanced by the clean Armani suit he wore. His blue eyes were glaring into the man's brown ones in a way that would have unsettled most people. But the man was not most people. The stranger broke the silence after he had finished taking in all he could of the man across from him.

" You know, you're a dead ringer for that criminal who shot himself on Bart's Hospital roof." The man knew that the youth knew who he was. But he wouldn't admit it, not just yet.

"Might I ask your name, and why you have chosen out of all the empty tales to sit down in front of me, someone you have never met before, and then talk to me?" the boy looked almost happy at his response. Time for some fun.

" But of course. The name is Artemis Fowl the Second, and I found it worth my time to sit in front of you simply because it's not every day you get to meet a supposedly-dead criminal." both people were now in their element. Finding things out. Planning. Artemis would surely like to find out whatever the man was planning. And the man could certainly use someone to be his eyes and ears. The case of ' The Reichenbach Fall' as the press were calling it made the news in several countries. The man's name and face were all over. But they thought he was dead, so it wouldn't do well to go and show off.

The man stood up, decidedly taking to the pale youth. He knew there was no point in lying to Artemis, so might as well be honest for once. " James Moriarty. Nice to meet you, Artemis." he shook the boy's hand before they both sat again. Moriarty had questions for the boy, so before Artemis could get a word on he spoke. " How did you know that I wasn't dead?" Artemis was pleased at this question. It was nice to find someone who recognized his intelligence despite his age. " It was obvious." Moriarty smirked with an expression to rival Artemis's own " How?" He asked. Let's see how this boy measured up to his favorite detective.

Artemis guessed the trick. "You already know, obviously. Why ask me?" every question they asked they already knew the answer to. They were testing the other, now. To see who was cleverer.

" I want you to prove you know it. Obviously." Artemis knew it.

" I saw some footage from security cameras that the police had kept hidden. First of all the resonance of the gun was off for an actual shot. I'm surprised that Holmes didn't notice. The blood that you could see wasn't enough for a full on shot to the head. You must have had some form of blood ampoules attached to your head that burst when you fell. I've seen the tactic used before." Moriarty looked pleased when Artemis gave his explanation. He smiled.

"Correct. Now, what a name. Artemis Fowl. I've heard that name before. Not just heard it, either. I knew your father, Artemis. I knew him very well. He had come to me for 'help' before. An incorrect informant, a disloyal partner, you name it. I helped show them it wasn't a good idea to disagree with Artemis Fowl senior. Now you, you don't want anything. Correct? You were looking for me, however, so the question is, why?"

Moriarty was straight to the point, Artemis had to admit. He had heard of Moriarty before, of course, in criminal circles, whispers of the name. but never in context with his father. He could never imagine Artemis Fowl Sr. working with a man like him. Moriarty was crazy. He was a killer. The realization hit Artemis like a ton of bricks. The man in front of him, that he had voluntarily sat down in front of was a man that would not hesitate to kill someone just because he could. He kept all emotion off his face, pretending to be carefully formulating a response. It was partly true, anyway.

Moriarty smiled. This was not a smile of happiness, but neither, Artemis noted, was it a mischeivous-for lack of a better word-smile like Artemis himself often wore. It had much more madness, more evil than Artemis had ever seen, except maybe on Opal Koboi's face. It scared him.

" Nothing to say, Arty? Nothing at all? If that's all you've got I'll be leaving. But first I'm going to ask you a question. You don't have to answer me immediately, but believe me. I'll get an answer sooner or later. Are you ready?"

Artemis swallowed his doubt. He was relatively sure that he could handle any question Moriarty could throw at him. And that was his big mistake he smirked, and nodded confidently.

" Good. The question is. . .

"Are you on the side of the angels?"

And with that parting question, the consulting criminal walked out of the small cafe with a smile on his face that drew the cashier's attention away from her phone long enough to stare at it with fear. She too recognized the madness in Moriarty's smile, and she too recognized his face. She gulped. All the while Artemis was still sitting in the booth, staring at where Moriarty's eyes were a moment ago, pondering a question he had asked himself many time before in recent events. One he still did not know the answer to.

Ok! Here is chapter one of The Infamous Question. I hope you've guessed the infamous question by now, and I hope you liked it as much as I did. It is important to note that the events in the story take place after The Opal Deception in the AF series and after The Reichenbach Fall in Sherlock. The theory for how Moriarty faked his death came partly from a Tumblr page and partly from my own mind. And don't worry, the next chapter will include both Holly and Sherlock alike.

Quote of the chapter:

"Holmes, Moriarty, they both look the same with the flesh scorched off their skulls"

-Julius Root to Foaly, Artemis Fowl.

Disclaimer: if I were in any way the BBC or Eoin Colfer, I'm pretty sure I would have better things to do than write Fanfiction about my own characters. Long story short, these characters all belong to their respective owners, aka the BBC and Eoin Colfer. I only own my words.

Anyone who reviews or puts my story on alert gets a wish, a kiss, and a fish for free. And if you don't want those, I have chocolate chip cookies.

This is Whisp here, signing off.