Series: Artemis Fowl

Pairings: Ugh. No. Not even contemplating it. Just--no. NOT GOING THERE.

Warnings: Kid, being inappropriate again. That should probably just be inferred by this point.

A/N: Really really strange style for this one, I apologize now if it's no good, but something about midnight meetings between criminals... I'm a huge fan of Artemis Fowl, have been since middle school 3 Already preordered the newest one, coming out in July~ I like the idea of these two boy genius criminals having what are, in effect, play dates, even though I'm almost certain Kaito probably drives Artemis crazy half the time, and not in a fun way. And maybe it's just me but Butler as of late really strikes me as a character that would be kind of fond of Kid and his determined childishness. At least, in contrast to Artemis himself.

A Company of Thieves

Artemis was sitting comfortably in the dark when he arrived, clinging to the window ledge like he had suction cups attached to his hands and feet – he didn't, this time, he wasn't so young as all that anymore – curtains billowing around him in a suitably dramatic fashion (one that he'd waited nearly eight minutes for just the right sort of wind to fabricate, but then, if you couldn't make a good entrance in this business than what use were you, really?). They held each other's gaze silently for a moment, neither one making any move; an impasse, if you were, without the use of any weapons, unnecessary and messy in such a meeting of the minds. Their intellects were their daggers, sharp and polished and never entirely sheathed.

In a parlay, it would be difficult to predict which one would walk away with the first blood, because neither had ever even contemplated attempting something so foolish. They traded blows like a well-rehearsed dance but always pulled back just before contact was made; both had the ability to irredeemably cripple, and it was in this shared knowledge of such that each found a respect for the other that seemed to transcend any real need to do battle at all.

That never entirely stopped either from the posturing, of course.

A body detached itself from the shadows to the left of the window – a man, nay, a mountain, nay, a Butler – and proffered Interpol's designated international thief 1412 a hand down from the high set frame which was, as always, ignored. Rather, the white clad thief deigned to use the manservant's broad shoulders as a springboard, toes pointed and spine curved and body poised perfectly in a gymnast's dismount, bowing to an imagined audience with the flourish of a born showman.

If anyone else had tried something like that with Butler he would have snapped their neck before their feet had even cleared the window sash. For him, Butler stood immobile, hardly daring to breath, unwilling to disturb the maneuver even the slightest, though he knew well enough that the flashy thief could have managed the feat just as well without Butler there at all.

(But it wasn't what he could do, Butler reasoned, so much as what he would do, and so he played the statue, the prop, every time and wondered, bewilderingly, just what exactly he'd done to earn the boy's trust so completely.)

Kaito Kid was someone that Butler tolerated – not the right word, no, but he was unable, or perhaps unwilling to dwell for long on what was – because Artemis always seemed so amused by the other boy's antics (though he would never – perish the thought – ever admit to such, even under the influence of a Mesmer) and because he always brought a strange sort of youth and energy and rejuvenation to the manor that had been such a foreign concept until the twin's birth two years ago and had, undeniably, suffered ever so slightly with Master Artemis' return. He never asked what sort of home the thief came from; to fall so completely into this lifestyle with such single minded abandon that it sometimes became difficult to remember that he must have a life outside of this, must have something that he was doing all this for, because there was never not a reason. Asking was against the rules.

But he could wonder.

Finally, Artemis broke the silence. "You could have done without the power outage." He pointed out, rather uselessly. He said the same thing every night they met, and Kid would always grin, shrug easily and shove his hands in his pockets and say nothing at all. Because it was true, he could, but what would be the fun in that, really? He was an artist. In much the same way Artemis would forge a Rembrandt or a Picasso, perfect down to the last brush stroke, Kid drew a sniper's bead to his heart with a precision that bordered on suicide, and yet, managed to come away – nearly – unscathed every time.

Butler had an uncanny eye for old injuries and was not so easy to fool as the people in the boy's life were. Or perhaps, he simply wasn't so willing to look the other way. It was difficult to believe that someone so brilliant would fail to surround himself with equally brilliant people, but not so difficult to believe in the power of determined obfuscation.

"Or the flash entrance." Artemis added after the usual motions on Kid's part had been thoroughly completed. "No one here is impressed."

The moonlight thief's cape eddied gently about his ankles from a breeze outside but Butler made no move to close the window. The first time he'd done so a look of such pure, unadulterated panic had flashed across the boy's face that Butler had almost felt as if he'd just been assaulted physically. It had been a foolish blunder on his part. He understood well enough the necessity of a quick, easy exit route, but the relative age of Artemis' surprise guest had startled him enough that he hadn't stopped to consider it might apply to him as well.

It was a mistake he'd never make again.

"Practice makes perfect, you know." Kaitou Kid said, examining a loose thread on the hem of one sleeve with a little frown. His English was perfect. As perfect as Artemis' Japanese, and it was difficult to predict which language they would choose each night until they were already exchanging words. One night it had been French, another, Russian. Spanish had been met with a ruffled, mildly offended look on Kid's part and he struggled through half the night before switching rather stubbornly to Korean, of which Artemis knew only so much as Kid had known Spanish and so they finished off the night in Mandarin and rather stoically chose to pretend as if the first two language mishaps had never even happened at all. "It would hardly do for me to simply stroll through the front door at the next heist, would it?"

Artemis could hardly resist the urge to roll his eyes. He settled for steepling his fingers instead. "I know for a fact that you've done just that on at least two separate occasions." He pointed out, and then flinched rather visibly at the expression dawning quickly across his contemporary's face.

"Why Arty," The well dressed thief practically purred in pleasure, canting his body in that strange way he had of intimating flirtation so convincingly that Butler had honestly feared he was being propositioned by a minor the first time the boy had turned his attention on him. It still bothered him a bit, when he let himself think about it. That wasn't the sort of distraction someone his age should be able to don with such ease or familiarity, and half the time it was difficult to tell what he was even attempting to distract from or why. "I wasn't aware that you were following my career so… intimately."

Unruffled by the insinuation (or at the very least, pretending to be), Artemis scoffed. "Be thankful I do or you might never have found what you were looking for." He said, holding up a thin sheaf of papers as he did so, meaning clear.

Kaitou Kid stilled, body language melting unwaveringly from tempter to tempted. He looked like the child he was but had hardly ever let himself be. Nervous, unsure, needful. His fingers flexed by his side but he made no move toward Artemis, made no attempt to claim the papers. "You found it?" Was all he said.

Artemis smiled.