I don't own Artemis Fowl. Okay?

Now, I originally right a cutesy drabble series, assuming (/hoping) it never see the critical eye of most FF people. Frankly, FG is a more welcoming place (that's right, AK, I know you're here and put away your seashell sword)(The following only mentioned because A) FG'ers scare me, even if I'm one of them and B) because I don't wantr to be threatened with swords, poisened cookies and ninja stars when I can't publicly respond). So, I was curious if writing out into longer-than-drabble chapters would up-the-awesome. So, here it is. I know it's not long, but, the other chapters will be. Probably(not). *I haven't a clue.

I'm walking down the street in the market, and no one looks twice. I've tanned the gringa out of me, and the blond hair is hidden under a hat. Not a sombrero* though. Those get you beaten up in dark alleys.

There's this little girl. I can tell she's so young, because despite the slight curve to her exposed legs, there is no woman who wears a black, baggy jumper like that. The undershirt was, strangely enough, a camo-green.

But, the weirdest thing wasn't the red hair on chestnut skin, but her eyes. The way those mix-matched eyes looked at me made me feel like I'd commited some kind of murderer. Like . . . if Brutus had a baby sister who he had to kill, too, this would be her as he drove it home, before the tears began to wet her face and blood her chest. She looked like she was placed on a bed of nails, as they slowly dug into her frail flesh, and I wouldn't save her. They were filled with pain like no other, and I was responsible.

I couldn't get over that pain, the kind of pain someone her age (maybe 5?) shouldn't know yet. I had to help her.

"Are you lost?" I asked as I leaned down to face level with her, smiling kindly, if not condescendingly. Her hazel-and-blue eyes followed my every move, for some reason. I supposed that she thought I was her mother/sister/aunt/cousin/other. I looked nothing like her, up close. We looked nothing like we had any relation.

The glare from the hot Mexican sun coming from behind the clouds blinded me from her vampire smile.

"No," She said, her voice too alto, too knowing and too adult for a child, "I'm found."

That probably should've been the first sign that I was totally screwed.