Hey! I've had this idea in my head for a while, so I thought that I should just get it down. I've also discovered that I've had a lot more luck with character's children rather than the actually characters themselves. You should've seen the AF/Maximum Ride Xover I tried to write. *shudders* Good thing I deleted that one… Anywhoo, I hope you enjoy!

Countdown… 10…9…8…7… 6… Oh what the heck. There's no use waiting for it, it's only a disclaimer: I do not own Artemis Fowl. Sadly. I'll just have to make do. But, I do own my OC's.

Note: All of this is written in a third person POV, just like the book. So, I'm not even going to bother putting 'So and So's POV' at the top of each chapter.

The raven-haired girl opened her bedroom door as silently she could, swinging it open smoothly. She toed the carpet as if testing the waters, then stepped gently onto the floor, wincing as the surface protested under the weight of her foot. She stopped, looking for another sign of life. After several seconds, she took a deep breath and continued on her journey.

Her diminutive figure stole down the hallway, jumping around in the cameras' blind spots. After the coast was clear, she seized an opportunity and slid down the staircase, landing catlike at the bottom.

Lurking in the shadows, she made her way across the main entryway, her inky ponytail swishing quietly behind her. She jumped deftly over a pressure pad hidden in the tiled floor, and pushed on.

Turning the corner, she ducked into a small closet and caught her breath. After a moment, she opened the door, ducking behind it as the surveillance camera swung her way. When it turned its eye, she rushed down the hall and finally found the door she was looking for.

The door to her father's study.

Tentatively, she opened the door slowly and steadily, walked in and immediately sank to her knees. Crawling under the camera's gaze, she slithered under her father's desk.

Her hand scrabbled on top of the desk for the latch that she knew opened a hidden compartment somewhere. At last, she found purchase under a thick sheaf of papers. She gently flicked it, and the hidden compartment (now not hidden) swung down and promptly hit her on the head.

Fighting the urge to exclaim in pain, she rubbed the sore spot on her temple and stuck her free hand inside the drawer. The only item inside was a velvet pouch, which she pulled out and examined. Curiously, she reached into the pouch, ecstatic to find the shape of a small disk. Grinning, she unfolded herself from under the desk. This could be what I'm looking for, she thought.

She nearly forgot to close the compartment, which would have for sure given her away. Silently reprimanding herself, she crawled back across the study and out into the corridor. The door closed with a small click behind her.

She started back to her destination, repeating her strange dance through the corridors. Her heart was beating like a hummingbird's, and she felt that it was much too loud for comfort. Only nearly setting off an alarm once, she made it safely back to her quarters, heart in her throat.

She ducked inside the safety of the doorway and closed it softly behind her. She didn't dare turn the lights on for fear of being discovered. That would be why she was quite surprised when she stepped on her cat, Sable, who luckily didn't make a sound, but walked away silently, miffed and indignant.

But finally, she made the way to her desk. Sitting down on the office chair, she flipped open her PowerBook. The light was nearly blinding as her eyes adjusted from the darkness of the manor. Quickly, she turned the brightness down, squinting to try and see the screen.

Once her eyes were ready, she paused. There was a lot riding on this small, worn, disk. It could connect everything she had observed, all of the unsolved mysteries in her head. Or, she thought wryly, it could be yet another dead end. Did she really want to face the prospect of another disappointment? Did she really want to put in the disk?

Of course she did. The girl took a deep breath to steady herself.

And Artemis Fowl III popped in the disk.

Sorry that was really short. Prithee, fair readers, is it too dramatic? Probably. And not exactly how Eoin Colfer writes, but what the hay. I can't duplicate anyone's writing style. Too much effort… Oh well. I should probably get out of here, stop wasting your time.

So, R&R? I love reading reviews.