This is a new story I'm toying with. I took down my other fic as it needed adjustment. I've written quite a few chapters for this already so updates should be pretty fast, providing the feedback is good. My first shot at introducing an OC. Personally don't find her too mary-sueish, but I'll leave the judgment up to you. Enjoy.

"Drink?"

Artemis smiled coyly. He was used to this. Sitting at a bar alone always brought unwanted attention from the opposite sex. He looked around at his addressor and blinked. The voice came from behind the bar. He laughed at himself softly, he had become so accustomed to the interest of females that he had become arrogant.

"Whiskey. No ice. And make sure the glass is clean." He masked his self-contempt with bitter malice towards the unfortunate bargirl. She however remained un-phased.

"We haven't got any ice anyway and you'll get whatever glass you're given." The girl didn't even look up as she said this, splashing the drink into an "apparently" clean glass. Artemis was slightly taken aback. He was not accustomed to answering back. People were usually intimidated by his icy manner. He wasn't going to let this girl get away with anything.

"Thank you." He said tartly, as the girl pushed the glass towards him, brown liquid spilling over the sides slightly. He sighed dramatically, pulling out a handkerchief from his top pocket. He was going to enjoy taunting this girl. She watched him with an expression of vague interest as he delicately mopped up the spilt drink. He sipped the glass and winced, slightly.

"Something wrong?" She asked with obvious unconcern.

"No…" He mused, waiting for further questions. He had drawn the girl in, now he would toy with her, before breaking her down. It wasn't very satisfying, but it was a hobby. However when he looked up she had turned away from him and was serving other customers. Artemis was incredulous. No other women he had ever met, save one, had ever managed to resist his sly wit and malicious charm, why should this barmaid be any exception.

"Evidently the staff in this place are as sullied as the glasses." It was a cheap shot, but he wanted her attention. He stared at her back as she replied, continuing with her chores.

"And what exactly do you mean by that…'sir'?"

Artemis was beginning to be irritated by this infernal woman. She might as well have been ignoring him altogether for all the consideration she was giving him. Yet this only made him crave her attention more.

"Well, I would have thought this a respectable sort of place."

"Isn't it?" She asked, turning round to face him.

"Well, if anything, I find it rather… smutty." He looked pointedly at her cleavage, provocatively on show under the low scoop of her vest top. "I find it hard to believe that a place like this would invoke that sort of uniform."

She laughed. Artemis became angrier still. He had practically called her a slut, yet she just seemed to just be playing with him. And if anyone was going to do the playing around here, it would be him.

"What's your name?" He asked innocently. - know your enemies- he thought.

"Sorry." She replied tartly "I don't give away my details to customers."

"Company policy?" asked Artemis.

"No. Personal policy." She smiled sweetly. Artemis was infuriated. How dare this woman be so immune to his ploy? He decided that it had gotten personal. This was no longer a hobby, this was serious now. He was going to conquer this impertinent woman, then make her wish she'd never met him. Time to turn on the charm.

"I take it you don't accept offers from customers either then?" he enquired further, thickening the plot in his mind.

"Not unless I like the look of them." She winked cheekily at him.

"And do you like the look of me?"

"I haven't decided yet."

"Very well." Artemis took a swig from his glass. "I want to know your first impressions of me. Describe me in three words."

The girl paused for thought. "Intelligent." She began. Artemis was taken aback by the compliment. He had expected the opposite. Banter usually based itself around insults.

"Why thank you." He inclined his head. The girl laughed.

"But also condescending and discourteous." Artemis laughed in spite of himself. The flowery language was a blatant joke, an attempt to match his intelligence. If only she knew…

"I grant you the first two words… but the third?" Artemis raised his eyebrows.

"If you didn't want to be labelled as such, you shouldn't have called me a slut." She replied craftily, before turning back to her other customers.

"Am I allowed to do the same for you?" Artemis asked. The girl answered with her back to him.

"Only if I'm going to like it."

"Well, I've already used the word smutty…" The girl sucked in her breath.

"Oooh. I dunno if I like that one. How about 'attractive'?"

"Clumsy" continued Artemis.

"I prefer inelegant."

"And I'm going to return the favour with the word 'discourteous'." She whipped around to face him, leaving a customer angrily muttering.

"How, may I ask, have I been 'discourteous' to you in any way?"

"You refused to tell me your name." Artemis gave her his best grin. She laughed and put her hands up in defeat.

"All right, all right, you win." She looked into his eyes and frowned. "Your eyes don't match." She said simply, changing the subject.

"And now you are making personal remarks! That only adds to your already marred reputation I'm afraid." The girl raised an eyebrow at him, picking up his glass and refilling it, taking special care not to spill anything.

"Here you are sir… this one's on the house. For sheer bloody entertainment value."

"Thank you." Artemis inclined his head, accepting the drink as she turned back to her regulars once more. He downed the drink in one before standing up to go. He noticed her turn her head slightly as she sensed him move. Artemis smiled to himself. He had her, hook, line and sinker. He took out a pen from his top pocket and scribbled a message on an overturned beer mat. Then, replacing the lid of his pen, he picked up his jacket and left, leaving the note on the bar. He smiled to himself as he walked past, glancing through the window. Sure enough, she had picked up the note. Phase one of his 'masterplan' was complete.

The barmaid picked up the beer-mat, attempting to hide the gesture by wiping the bar surface at the same time. On the back of the mat were three words, followed by a number. She smiled as she read it, placing it carefully in her pocket. Three words and a number:

"Intelligent, condescending, discourteous"

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