Disclaimer: This fan fiction is not written for profit and no infringement of copyright is intended. Unbetaed so all mistakes are mine. Suggested by a line in Book Six regarding Artemis' occasional literary pursuits…

MILLS AND FOWL

Athena Elysium drew a deep breath, one hand going to her bosom. Within, she could feel her heart hammering in her chest like a humming-bird, threatening to take flight. Mindful of the any eyes around her she pulled her hood more tightly about her face, forcing her golden curls back within its folds. All around her the soldiers of the evil Demon Lord were gathering, drumming their weapons into the ground as they marched, making an almighty din. Athena felt tears well up in her eyes: They would be at her father's castle by sun-down at this rate. And then- Then the hateful wedding ceremony would begin.

Inwardly she shuddered. She wished someone would save her.

But she was beyond help now, with the army on the march. The air was rent with the screams of dying prisoners and thick with the stench of battle; she could barely breath through her corset. Before her the evil King Gaugamela sat, being carried into battle on a raised dais. He was glorying in the carnage about him. Her eyes narrowed with delicately feminine contempt. The man was a monster, a tyrant who would have to be stopped. But what was she to do? Her father had promised her to the madman in return for peace between their kingdoms. And while she would gladly make any sacrifice in order to secure her people's safety, she trembled at the thought of the nuptial night which lay before her-

"Seriously," Juliet snorted, "People actually pay you to write this shite?"

Artemis Fowl blinked at her, surprised by her tone. Instead of answering her he narrowed his eyes and steepled his fingers before his chest, waiting for her laughter to cease. It was nothing more than he expected, after all. The juvenile criminal mastermind was sitting behind his desk, his laptop open before him, wearing a casual Armani sweater and a pair of Gucci loafers. He had hoped that the less formal attire would help release his creative juices, but thus far it had not. His last three nights had been spent trying to forward the plot of Violet Tsirbleu's current opus, The Demon Master's Wild Mistress, but to no avail. All he had to show for his efforts were a caffeine-related twitch (which he found most unbecoming) and an even more vampire-like pallor. The publisher was breathing down his neck for the next instalment of his romance-and-sorcery epic, and not even Butler's threats to her vindictive pet Chihuahua could dissuade her. Given that she had already paid Fowl quite a handsome advance, and had a tiresomely impressive list of solicitors on retainer, the teenaged criminal mastermind had felt it would be wise to deliver the book.

His creative muse had other ideas however. And Juliet wasn't helping.

By now the younger Butler was bent over with laughter, gasping for air. He hadn't seen her this amused in years. "C'mon, Artemis," she was laughing, "Are you actually saying you've written this stuff before-"

The boy stiffened. "Actually, I have been voted Most Imaginative Author for three years running in the Romance Publishing Top Ten," he informed her, trying to keep the pride out of his voice. He resisted the urge to mention his Golden Rose-Petal Award for Best Newcomer. Gloating was so uncouth… "I'll have you know that Violet Tsirbleu happens to have a very respectable readership and several devoted fan-sites on the web."

Juliet snorted. "You mean that women actually buy-"

"Yes," he interrupted stiffly, "They do." He had no desire to hear another slur directed at his work, even from so old and trusted a friend as Juliet. The only person he would have been more horrified at having this conversation with was Holly Short. And thankfully she was miles away in Haven City, mercifully ignorant of his little hobby, or so he hoped.

The thought of Holly caused his stomach to drop slightly: it had been three months since that moment in the gorilla cage, and he could still feel the ghost of that kiss on his lips.

Maybe it was his unhealthy colour, maybe it was is expression remembering the elf, but Juliet stopped laughing. She straightened up, eyeing him more calculatedly. Her expression suddenly reminded Artemis of her brother's when he was trying to decide which of an opponent's bones to break first. For no reason he wished to fathom the inscrutable Fowl suddenly felt exposed under her gaze. "So what's the problem with the story, then?" she asked more calmly. Her eyes were still dancing, but her expression was serious. Fowl wasn't sure which he should believe. However, now that the damage was done he had no choice but to persevere.

Heavens, but this was awkward.

"The problem," he began, still certain of how much he should tell her, "The problem…Is that I seem unable to propel the narrative forward." The boy frowned, the mystery of his writer's block giving him pause. He had never had trouble with a romance novel before now. But then he never had trouble doing anything he set his mind to.

"Well what's slowing you down?" Juliet asked bluntly. She folded herself into the chair opposite him and tucked her feet in under her; she appeared to be settling herself in for a long editing session. Artemis wasn't sure whether he felt grateful or not. "I mean," she continued when he didn't answer, "You say you've written a few of these things already: what would normally happen if you were writing a ro-" her voice strayed dangerously close to giggling again but she forced it straight, "a story which wouldn't move forward?"

Again he gave a slight shrug. "It has never happened. Not even on The Roving Rancher's Reckless Romance, and that took forever to write." It turned out that making the details of the 19th century Montana badger-baiting craze romantic had been more of a chore than he'd expected. Though discovering the secret to creating genetically modified attack badgers had made it all worth-while in the end. The Vatican had already ordered twelve of them.

Juliet nodded, choosing to ignore the potentially uncomfortable explanation that last title might provoke. Oftentimes with Artemis, it's best not to know, she mused. "Alright then, how far have you gotten?" she asked instead. "Do you keep reaching a certain point and getting bogged down?"

"No."

"Well then is it a certain character?"

Unexpectedly, Artemis felt his cheeks turn slightly red. With his undead pallor it was particularly noticeable, and inwardly he again cursed himself for ever starting this conversation. He cleared his throat uncomfortably. "The problem… If you wish to call it a problem, and I would not necessarily do so-"

"Spit it out, Artemis," she interrupted.

The blush grew worse. He could feel it spreading up towards the tips of his ears now. The image of a certain LEP Captain's ears popped into his head and he willed the inconsequential mental image away. With difficulty.

"Ahem," he began eventually, "The problem is with the main character." Juliet shot him a knowing smirk, which didn't help his complexion any. "These matters," he began again, "Are usually very simple: you take a beautiful, intelligent female lead with brains and a mind of her own and introduce her to her hero."

"Let me guess," Juliet drawled, "He's built like a truck, looks like a Greek god and nurses stray woodland animals back to health in his spare time."

Artemis looked sharply at her. "There is more to it than that!" he snapped. "Misjudge his portrayal and the book fails. He has to be believable enough not to jolt the reader out of the world of the novel but not so realistic that they're reminded of their own men at home." The boy straightened his shirt with a snap. "I assure you, it is a fine balance."

She inclined her head. Her eyes were still dancing. "I stand corrected."

"As you should."

There was a beat of silence. For the first time in his life Artemis was tempted to fidget.

Juliet broke it.

"So if the heroine's who she should be, and the hero's who he should be, then what's the problem?" She cocked her head, apparently genuinely interested. In fact, the giggling had almost completely stopped. "Why are you getting bogged down?"

He crossed his arms defensively. It was another unusual gesture from him. "There is a… complication." He took a deep breath. How in heavens was he going to phrase this? "Our heroine, Athena-"

Again Juliet snickered. She really couldn't help herself. "Why didn't you just call her Minerva and get it over with?" she blurted.

Fowls did not sputter, but Artemis very nearly set a precedent. His mouth was dangerously close to being agog. "Minerva? Minerva is not-"

She blew air through her lips. "Puh-lease," she spoke over him. "A brilliant blond named after the Goddess of Wisdom? Who do you think you're fooling?"

"Coincidence," he retorted archly.

A smug grin split Juliet's face. "No such thing with you."

Dammit! "This is not about Minerva-"

"Then who's it about?" She was practically bouncing in her seat with amusement.

The boy's jaw tightened. She was impossible, truly she was. "The problem is with another character, if you must know," he forced through clenched teeth. "The hero has a companion, a bit older than he and not nearly so suitable as a heroine. Far too aggressive and bossy." Artemis' hands went to his cufflink, tugging irritatedly at his sleeve. "She started as a plot device and now she's taking over the narrative."

Juliet cocked an eyebrow. "Oh?"

He sighed. For the first time in his life he wanted to slouch; he was tired and had been ever since No1 had brought him back from the past. Not that he could ever admit it. "I can't seem to help this," he muttered eventually. "I try to write about Athena and Hailey gets in the way. I try to write Athena getting away from the Demon King and Hailey ends up saving everyone including Arturius, armed with nothing but a piece of silly-string and some spoons." He rolled his eyes. "I swear, sometimes I think that characters have minds of their own, I really do."

Juliet's smug smile widened. Now weren't those character names a wee bit familiar? Practically thrumming with amusement now, she looked up at her brother's charge. She wasn't at all surprised that this Hailey was taking over the action: She hadn't missed the way the boy looked at Holly Short whenever she was at the mansion. Though she knew Artemis well enough to know that he'd never admit to it in a thousand years.

"Why are you grinning like that?" he demanded irritably.

"No reason," she smirked.

"There is always a reason for your actions," he countered. "You are a Butler."

"And you are a Fowl." The boy moodily dropped his gaze to the laptop at her words. He had, Juliet mused, picked one helluva time to hit adolescence. Doing her best to keep a straight face, she looked straight at Artemis. "Tell me about this Hailey, and I might be able to help."

He looked suspicious: Fowls did not easily give up their tactical advantages, and he had done so more than once tonight. But if it meant that she could help, he would try. "How would one describe Hailey?" he began. "One would more easily describe a rainbow to a blind man." He cocked his head to the side, staring into space as if to conjure the right words. It was a surprisingly endearing sight, Juliet thought. Eventually he cleared his throat. "Hailey is…brilliant, in her own way. A skilled tactician, a loyal friend, an amazing fighter."

"Doesn't Athena possess those qualities too?"

He shook his head. "Not…" he began thoughtfully. "Not in the same manner." It was strange to see this usually articulate boy flustered. "Athena is brilliant with… things. Objects. Making them work, making them do as she wants, that is what she lives for. I suppose we have that in common. But Hailey…"

"Yes?"

His eyes were far away, one finger brought thoughtfully to his lip. "Hailey is a truly good person," he said eventually. "The kind of person who makes you better simply because you know them." His gaze flicked to Juliet. "Of course Athena pales in comparison with her: I can't imagine anyone who would not."

Despite the fact that she had watched Artemis grow up, despite the fact that he was only a teenager, despite everything Juliet grinned. Our little criminal genius really is all grown up, she thought. And apparently he still has a thing about older women. The thought warmed the cockles of her black little heart. "So why don't you do the obvious?" she asked him. "Why don't you make Hailey the heroine?"

He frowned. He hadn't thought of that, which was surprising. Normally he thought of everything. "But there's a winning formula with romance," he objected. "It is not the field for innovation-"

"Then make it one." She held up one finger, asking for his silence. He had enough good manners to obey. "Artemis, you are the most ingenious, cunning, devious, capable person I have ever met. Are you honestly telling me you can't think of a way around this?" She cocked a frankly cynical eyebrow. "If Hailey is the one who truly interests you then why not make her the heroine? And everyone else can go whistle Dixie." She grinned devilishly. "Or take it up with me."

The boy looked down at his laptop. He didn't want to admit this, but he feared that he would have to, if he wanted to make Juliet understand. "But Hailey would never be interested in the hero," he explained softly. "Arturius is also an ingenious, cunning, devious, capable person. Someone of Hailey's moral strength wouldn't have the slightest attraction-"

So that was what was really bothering him.

Juliet stood up and walked around the desk to stand beside his chair. As she did so she thought once again how tall and grown-up looking he was getting. He'd be eye-level with her soon. "A word of advice about women, Artie?" she said gently. He looked up at her with tired blue eyes and she smiled. "Firstly, we never like being told what we will and will not want." Again he blinked in surprise. "And secondly, as no doubt your own mother can attest, sometimes good girls like bad boys." She winked cheekily at him. "Even if there is an age gap. And a height gap. And a species gap." She leaned down and placed a soft kiss on his cheek. "Hailey's your heroine," she whispered in his ear, her voice kind, "Accept it." And without another word she left the room.

Artemis stared after her, the feel of her kiss still burning on his cheek. Though not the way another kiss burned, one from three months (or rather eight years) earlier. Hailey was his heroine. Of course! Why hadn't he thought of that? Why was he trying to pretend that Minerva- ahem, Athena, was central to his story? Because they were alike? Both morally dubious anti-heroes with enough intellect to rule the world?

Or because he was very, very scared of what an armed Holly (ahem, Hailey) would do to send him packing?

One thing at a time man, he thought, one thing at a time.

Slowly, the smile which had made many a seasoned professional criminal quail began to cross Artemis' face. He clicked open each chapter file on the laptop, reading carefully through them one by one. The smile grew wider: He could see how to salvage the story already. Arturius' first brush with the annoyingly dashing Trouble Yeltsin could become his first encounter with the beautiful and tempestuous Hailey Shortville. His first scuffle with the psychotic Demon Empress Opal could allow the young lovers their first hint of romance. Once he stopped trying to force the story to behave itself and keep Athena at its centre, it just flowed. He felt like his hands were on fire as he typed, the ideas coming faster than he could write them-

And when he was finished? The boy genius narrowed his eyes, momentarily steepling his hands at his chest. Why then he would have to get in touch with Holly Short and invite her for a visit. They would need to have a very long chat about gaps in height, and age, and species. And how they mattered not one jot.

Artemis frowned.

He'd just make sure she wasn't armed first…

***********************************************************

Inside the fourth floor surveillance booth, Butler cocked an eyebrow at his sister.

"What?" Juliet demanded, her face washed green by the monitors. She was looking awfully smug, he thought.

"Girls like bad boys?" he asked, his tone sarcastic.

She shrugged, bouncing out towards her room. "You would know, bro'," she threw over her shoulder. "Plenty of 'em liked you." And then she was gone.

Butler rolled his eyes. He swore that girl got cheekier every day. She was even more annoying when she was right. "If they end up having kids," he announced to nobody in particular, "I'm not baby-sitting." And then he smiled, imagining a tribe of ginger haired, blue-and-hazel-eyed criminal masterminds who could turn invisible and hypnotise others at will.

At the very least, he mused, the next few years would be entertaining.

So long as I don't have to baby-sit.

A/N For those readers outside Ireland and the UK Mills and Boon are a famous romance publisher, which explains the fic name. I think they're called Harlequin Romance in the US and Canada. And if you enjoyed this, why not review? (Grins evilly) You know you want to…