Short and sweet but Oh so speedily updated. This is not going to be a fanfic of SIACL proportions, I'm afraid. I don't know if I'll even break 25,000 words.

Just so's everyone's clear: yes, Artemis and Butler are still mind-wiped from the end of The Eternity Code. This is an AU shooting off about four years after TED, guaranteed to contain absolutely no Opal.

Heaps o' gratitude to Ilex-ferox, tireless beta.

January 3rd, 2011, Operations Booth, Police Plaza, Haven City, The Lower Elements

Commander Julius Root, for the second time in one day, nearly choked on his cigar.

'You sent her where?'

'Top. Side.' Foaly enunciated clearly and carefully, as though speaking to an idiot.

'Don't speak to me like I'm an idiot, Foaly. I heard you the first time.' Root held up a hand to cut short Foaly's inevitable smart-ass reply of "Then why'd you ask?", 'What I want to know is: why in Frond's name did you do it? And I want to know right. Now.' He slammed his hand down on a handy desk for emphasis.

Foaly winced at how close the Commander came to crushing an extremely delicate piece of anti-gravity equipment. 'Because she'll be harder to catch up there. Besides, it's not like I just shot her up into the middle of a field with a blanket and lunch box, I sent her to someone who'll be able to help.'

Root breathed in noisily through his nose. 'Oh yes? And just who did you send her to?'

'We-ell ...'

January 7th, 2011, Greensgate Lane, South Killingholme, England

Mulch looked down at the inside of his parcel in patent disbelief. 'I don't remember buying you on Ebay,' he told the contents of the box.

It had taken him a good ten minutes to push and shove the parcel into the decaying interior of his homel. Now he knew why.

One squashed, tired, and thoroughly unhappy Holly Short glared up at him from her wrappings.

'Is this some kind of weird birthday gift?' Mulch asked. 'Because if it is, tell the centaur he's two months early. And that I like women with a bit more hair around here,' he waved vaguely towards his chin.

'Ha. Ha. Ha. In your dreams, Mulch Diggums.'

'Well, seeing as I'm pretty sure this may be a dream ...' Mulch waggled his eyebrows.

'Lucky for me this is nothing but cold, hard reality.' Holly pushed at Foaly's specialised air-pocket packaging, making a face. 'Help me out, would you? I think I've developed claustrophobia in the past four days.'

Once Holly was safely out of her box and sitting gingerly on one of Mulch's armchairs, sipping, equally gingerly, a mug of hot fungus cider, Mulch finally got his explanation.

It was a bit garbled as Holly wasn't exactly clear on the particulars herself. But she gave it her best shot, starting with the stolen necklace and her chance encounter with Root, and ending with Foaly's "fool-proof plan".

'So much for "fool-proof".' Holly pulled a face. 'I thought he meant some sort of jury-proof defence or new DNA evidence. Not a one way ticket to Compost-ville, Britain.' She gestured eloquently at Mulch's mouldy living room.

Mulch, meanwhile, was looking positively gleeful. 'So that's it, huh? You've come to beg good old Mulch for asylum, have you? Asking me to harbour a wanted felon, eh? (Holly let out a snort of disbelief) Typical, just typical. Bloody LEP can't do anything on their own.'

Holly looked down at her mug. 'I was actually hoping that maybe, while I was here, you might be interested in doing a little ... PI work with me. Unofficially, of course. I've had a lot of time to think, after all,' she jerked her chin towards her empty box.

A crafty smile spread beneath Mulch's beard. 'PI work you say? Would I be correct in assuming that by "PI work" you actually mean "recovering this all-powerful tart's family heirlooms on the sly and proving your innocence to all and sundry"?'

An equally crafty smile found its way onto Holly's face. 'Something like that. After all, you are such an expert when it comes to theft.'

'Flatterer,' Mulch waved a hand at her. 'What can I say? I like the way you think. Incidentally, I may know of someone who could help.'

Holly perked up. 'Really? Who?'

'Let's put it this way,' Mulch said, 'he's quite unforgettable.'

January 6th, 2011, Fowl Manor, Dublin, Ireland

It was not, upon returning home triumphant, what Artemis had been expecting to find waiting on his desk.

A simple envelope, with his address handwritten in blue ink, it was postmarked the 02.01.11, and sent from Britain. It seemed harmless enough and, technically, all post was checked at the door by a trained security guard. Nevertheless, to put off any post mortem "I told you so"s from Butler should the thing blow him to kingdom come, he ran it through his scanner and checked it for various chemical compounds. It came back negative.

Using an ornate ivory let-opener, he slit apart the envelope and shook the contents into his hand. A gold coin on leather thong, a mini-disk covered in smudged gold leaf and a slightly rumpled-looking, handwritten note. Artemis frowned, spreading the paper flat on his desk.

Mud Boy,

Obviously you don't remember me. That's okay, I'm a nice guy, I'll forgive you. Just wanted you to know that your trick worked and I'm a free dwarf. Thought the time had come to return the favour. Included the necklace because she'd be pissed if you lost it. And so would you, once you remember it.

Don't worry, I know this doesn't make any sense right now. But play the disk and it'll be clear as day.

My number's on the back, call me. I've always wanted to turn over Fort Knox.

Mulch

PS. I know you only gave me the mini disk but the real thing was just sitting there in your pocket. What can I say? I can't help myself. You'll thank me in the long run. You could've chucked it or something.

Artemis turned over the paper. Sure enough, a phone number was scrawled, nearly illegibly, across the back. Putting down the note, he picked up the necklace. There was definitely something familiar about it. The coin caught the light as it swung from its cord.

So, thank you too, I suppose.

It was a woman's voice. He knew it, but didn't know it. Artemis' frown deepened. He didn't like not knowing.

Last, but not least, the mini-disk. An elaborate ploy to decimate his delicate network? Perhaps. Unfortunately, he was much too curious not to try it out.

Putting down the disk, he crossed the room to a cupboard. A moment of rummaging produced an old laptop. No longer connected to his network and totally void of useful information, it was the perfect vehicle for a potentially virulent mini-disk.

Artemis booted it up, plugging in a set of head phones and inserted the disk.

The disk opened a window containing three files. One was labelled "Artemis", the second "Butler", and the third "Juliet". He clicked on "Artemis". A third window appeared, and, as the screen cleared, he saw himself sitting in his room. But it wasn't quite himself: he was a few years younger and he looked tired.

'Hello,' said the Artemis on the screen, 'if you are – if I am, I suppose – watching this, it means my plan has worked and that Diggums has managed to return my memories to you. Us. Never mind. I'll try to be concise, there isn't much time. I'm sure you're curious as to what exactly is going on,' a brief, tight smile, 'so please, allow me to elucidate. Though, before I begin, I would like to briefly note what a pleasure it is to be able to explain myself to someone of equal intellectual prowess. I'm sure you, of all people, can sympathise with how tedious it is to have to dumb oneself down to the lowest common denominator.'

Rolling his eyes, Artemis sighed. Was he still that long-winded?

'Oh, and one final thing before I begin my explanation, in the event that you doubt that I am, in fact, a recording of your 13 year-old self, I would just like to remind you of the incident with the jam cookies and that awful terrier the cook used to keep. You do remember don't you?'

Artemis winced. Unfortunately, he did.

Two hours later a shell-shocked and confused Artemis Fowl almost toppled out of his room. 'Butler!' he called down the corridor. 'Butler, come quickly!'

The manservant flew around a nearby corner, Sig Sauer at the ready. When he saw no hulking kidnappers or would-be assassins, he paused, eyeing Artemis. 'What's the matter?'

'I need ...' Artemis paused, thinking. Abruptly, he shrugged. 'I would like you to see something.'

Butler always did as he was told.

Butler and Artemis sat across from each other.

Butler took a deep breath. 'You could phone the number.'

'Yes, I could.'

'It ... do you ...' Butler swallowed. 'Do you remember?'

Artemis licked his lips. 'Yes,' he said.

'Me too.'

'I suppose I should call, then.'

'Yes.'