Author's Note: Hello, people! This is my first fanfiction, so please go easy on me! As a newbie, I'd greatly appreciate it if you'd review and tell me how I did. I hope you like the story! WARNING: Spoilers for some of the AF books!

For some reason, the tabs (paragraph indents) have dissapeared, and I can't get them back. I apologize if the story is difficult to read. If somehow, they magically come back, then just ignore this paragraph.

Disclaimer: I have wished upon, like, TEN BILLION STINKN' STARS and I STILL haven't gotten the rights to own Arty and friends!


Teenage genius Artemis Fowl had never felt so betrayed.

How could my own mother subject me to so much pain and humiliation?

With the grimness of a prisoner stepping up to the gallows, he tugged on the pair of jeans his mother insisted he wear.

"Arty," she had pleaded with him, "You promised you'd wear the rad new outfit that I bought for your birthday!"

Artemis winced at the use of the word "rad" and refused to touch the "hideous monstrosities".

Again and again Angeline begged her son to wear the gifts, but he wouldn't budge. Artemis remained steadfastly firm up until his mother made the Bambi Face. Her big, cerulean eyes opened wide, and her bottom lip trembled. Despite the fact that Angeline was an appalling actor, and her performance would have undoubtedly made Shakespeare cry, it had the desired effect.

"Oh, all right, mothe-mum," Artemis sighed, "I shall don these ridiculous garments."

"You'll look so hip!" Angeline declared, "Trust me Arty, you'll have a bunch of homies in no time!"

Artemis was one hundred percent sure that he most certainly did not want any 'homies', nor did he want to look hip. But he would struggle through the embarrassment for his mother.

The pair of jeans he was struggling to squeeze into were much too tight for his liking. Artemis wasn't a very muscular boy, that particular detail accentuating how incredibly thin the pant legs were. He examined the tag and found that they were made in China, 79% polyester, and contained unholy amounts of cheap dye. To make them look even more atrocious (surprisingly, it was possible) there were holes ripped in them! Skinny Jeans read the label.

How in the world, Artemis wondered, are clothing companies able to sell such absurd and disgusting merchandise?

Briefly, Artemis entertained the idea of hacking into Congress' database, and making these so called "skinny jeans" illegal, but then dismissed the notion. That would be childish, and he had better things to do.

The pants were on, but to Artemis' frustration, he discovered they sagged so much that he was forced to lumber over to the mirror like John Wayne. It would always remain a mystery to him how the jeans producers managed to create jeans so tight, yet so baggy.

He was already wearing the Randomosity T-shirt his mother bought for him to go with the pants. It was a few sizes too big, on it a peculiar cartoon boy with no neck and three fingers. The word Randomosity was scrawled in the background, graffiti style. Artemis loathed the shirt, but he was thankful it was 100% cotton. The garish plastic logo was a different matter entirely.

He stood staring into the mirror, puzzling over how dramatically his life had changed over the past few years. At the age of twelve, he was a cold-blooded criminal, willing to do anything to get what he wanted. Then he met the fairies. He'd been on countless adventures with them, each one helping him grow as a person. As a result, his heart had grown as much as his body. His new friends had taught him what really mattered, and that wasn't gold, like he previously believed.

Artemis' musings drifted back to just last year, along with the hardships that had come with it. He had fallen ill with a disease known as the Atlantis Complex, usually developed by guilt-ridden fairies. Symptoms include obsessive compulsiveness, and in extreme cases, multiple personalities. Artemis had exhibited both of these symptoms. He had been placed in the fairy psychiatric ward, and a couple months ago, was finally cured.

Breaking out of this reverie, Artemis scowled at his reflection. He was happy with the changes to his personality, but sure didn't like the difference in his appearance. Desperately, his wished for a nice Armani suit, a silk shirt, and some Gucci loafers.

Feeling utterly defeated, an alien emotion to Artemis, he slipped his feet into a pair of black Vans. This was the finishing touch to his preposterous outfit. Artemis felt as though he was walking on a slab of plastic. Luckily for him, he was able to dissuade his mother from buying the Technicolor basketball sneakers. He nearly had to drag her away from the Sesame Street hat rack.

Artemis groaned inwardly. Today he was scheduled to go to Haven and have lunch with Holly and Foaly. This would be the first time he would visit his friends without a life threatening situation making it difficult to socialize. Upon hearing about this little meeting, Angeline was dead-set on getting Artemis to show off his "new look". Obviously, she had succeeded.

Foaly and Holly will never let me live this down, Artemis thought miserably.

He carefully brushed a strand of raven-black hair off his forehead, pocketed his keys and wallet, and headed downstairs.


Artemis plodded down into the kitchen, his new shoes weighing down his feet. Beckett and Myles were seated at the kitchen table, building a DNA model out of multicolored licorice and gumdrops. Well, Myles was building, and Beckett was eating. Professor Primate was seated next to the replica, supervising the boys with his glassy marble eyes.

Myles, being the little scientist that he was, had extracted Artemis' DNA from a skin sample, printed out a picture of it, and now was proceeding to make replica. Beckett, Myles' "assistant", was not providing much assistance at all.

"No Beckett!" Myles cried, grabbing a gumdrop out of his brother's sticky hand, "Don't eat the deoxyribose sugar!"

"Mmmm! Sugar!" Beckett licked his lips.

He stretched his pudgy toddler fingers toward the model and picked off a piece of licorice, shoving it into his mouth.

"Beckett! You just ate the adenine! Artemis' DNA will be mutated now!" Myles was now attempting to pry open Beckett's lips.

"The addy-nine is good though!" Becket yelled, shoving at Myles.

They both fell to the ground with a muffled crash, upsetting the table as well. Professor Primate was knocked to the floor by the impact.

"History will remember this daaaaaay!" The monkey screeched.

When Artemis entered the room, the pair of wrestling children glanced up and froze, shocked by Artemis' strange getup. Myles had pinned his brother down, his hand jammed into Beckett's mouth. Beckett had a wad of candy in one hand, and a fistful of his Myles' golden curls on the other. Both of their mouths fell open simultaneously, and a blob of chewed licorice tumbled out of Beckett's. The sight was almost comical.

"Arty-miss is moo-tatered!" Beckett wailed, breaking the silence, "We moo-tatered Arty-miss!"

The distraught boy grabbed some gumdrops and tried to repair the mutilated DNA strand, fat tears running down his chubby cheeks.

"No Beckett." Myles stared in wonder at his brother's choice of attire, "Artemis isn't mutated. I think he's caught the Atlantis Complex again."

"He's sick again?" Beckett blubbered, "Will he have to go back to the psycho-attic word?"

"It's 'psychiatric ward' Beckett, not 'psycho-attic word'." sighed Artemis.

He got a damp paper towel and wiped off Beckett's candy coated face. Artemis then cleaned up the failed DNA replica's remains.

"I'm not sick. Moth-Mum requested I dress in her birthday present today, that's all."

"Oh. Okay." Beckett mumbled around the thumb he was sucking on.

Myles only nodded solemnly.

After giving each boy a hug, Artemis retrieved a bottle of pure Irish spring water from the refrigerator. Once he told Butler where he was going, he walked out to his car. Butler had struck a deal with Artemis: When Artemis went to visit the fairies, Butler would stay home. Butler figured his charge would be safe in Haven, due to all the advanced security, and Butler wasn't as young as he used to be. He did require Artemis to wear a watch with a pulse monitoring device implanted in it. If Artemis' heart stopped beating, Butler would be notified through text message. The watch also had a panic button Artemis could press, which would alert Butler as well.

For his sixteenth birthday, his parents surprised their oldest son with a silver Porsche. Artemis didn't particularly like driving, but he figured it would be necessary to know how.

As he drove to Tara, the fairy shuttle port, his mind wandered.

It will be nice to see Foaly and Holly again. Especially Holly….

Artemis blinked, banishing that last thought. Sometimes he wondered if Orion was truly gone.

Or maybe a piece Orion was there from the beginning, a small voice inside of him whispered, Maybe Orion has always been there, and always will.

"Stop thinking these foolish thoughts, Artemis. She's only your friend," he said to himself.

Friend. That word tasted so sweet. He had never had a friend, minus Butler, until he'd met the fairies. Artemis wondered if he even knew how to be a friend.

I guess I'll just have to do the best I can. I'll just be the best friend I can be.


Author's Note: So, how did I do? Does anyone have any suggestions or corrections? Please, please review!