Thanks to: Readergirl99, shiningpearls, 6000j, Shadow914, The Littlest Mouse and Steinbock for the reviews!

Honestly just reading the little bits you notice and the fact you throw back to previous fics and remember stuff and enjoy gruff!fluff as much as me... Just.. argh. You guys.

WARNINGS: Ah, you know - the usual. Swearing, a smattering of gruff!fluff, copius amounts of bad decisions and towards the end, some sass...

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

Cycle

Kitchen, Staff Quarters, Fowl Manor

They ate quietly, Xandr waiting until the only sounds were scraping cutlery before he spoke.

"What are your plans regarding your mother?"

Dom chewed for far longer than necessary on his final mouthful before he answered.

"What do you mean?"

"Seeing her."

"I saw her the other day," he shrugged.

"She would like to see more of you, I'm sure."

"Yeah, well I'd like to see more of her, too," he said stiffly. "But you know."

"She could visit," Pa said, lining his knife and fork up neatly on his plate.

"He'd never let her," Dom muttered.

"She could tell him she was working."

Dom shook his head. "Sue works the same shifts at the hospital. She's Eddie's wife – Paul's best mate. He'd find out."

Pa made a mental note of the names his grandson had just let slip.

"You know because you're a minor you don't need to press charges yourself, right?" he said suddenly. "You just need to make a statement that it was him that did it. You or any witnesses."

Dom stayed silent. He didn't want to lie to Pa and say that nobody else knew, but he equally didn't want Pash or Mrs O'Neil to be dragged into a court case – despite the fact they would likely both gladly testify against Paul.

The giant sighed through his nose and collected the plates.

"I'm concerned about you, Domovoi. Let me be - I'm your grandfather. It's my job."

"Your job is to keep Mr Fowl alive," Dom said, with a small huff of laughter. "Not worry about me."

"It's my nature, then," Xandr admitted. "I'm concerned that if you do nothing, you will be stuck in this endless, repetitive cycle until one of you kills the other, is all I'm saying. And if you think I'm going to sit around and let it be you that goes in the ground, you are very much mistaken, boy."

"It's not that dramatic," Dom muttered. "I'll grow up soon enough. And when I do, I'm not planning on having a cage-fighting career on the side just because it's useful for earning money for that dickhead."

Xandr smiled, a little sadly. "Well you don't have to go back there this time. You can stay home with us and go straight from here to The Academy if you want. A couple of months should be enough for him to calm down."

"I can't," said Dom, reluctantly.

"I can get your kit bag," Xandr offered; he had seen the boy had arrived without it, of course.

"It's not that – he's booked a holiday. They want me there."

"Where to?" Pa frowned.

"Rome," Dom wrinkled his nose. "Fuck knows why."

Pa shrugged. "Worse places to visit."

"Anywhere with Paul is the worst place to visit," Dom said bitterly.

"You don't have to go."

"It'd be worse if I didn't. He'd never let it go. It'd always be 'remember that time you didn't come on holiday with us?'. Besides, Mam was looking forward to it. I don't want to let her down."

"And what are you going to tell her when she sees the state of you?" Xandr asked, with a raised brow. "When is this holiday? How long for?"

"This Thursday. Ten days, I think," Dom replied, purposefully answering only two thirds of the questions.

"That's cutting it fine in terms of you looking presentable," Pa noted, neutrally.

"Granny's stuff is pretty good," Dom shrugged. "I'll be ok."

"The fact you want to hide your injuries from your mother is rather the problem here, Kingdom."

Dom pushed his chair back from the table suddenly.

"Can I be excused? Artemis wanted me for something after dinner."

It was the truth, but he was grateful his grandfather didn't ask what for exactly. 'Giving Artemis some much needed practice at reading out course directions in a rally race' was likely to raise some further questions he didn't want to answer.

Xandr frowned.

The two teenagers had been absent from general manor comings and goings for the majority of the day, the man had noted - for the second time consecutively. Yesterday the Fowl had even joined in with his grandson's recovery swimming session. This 'hanging around together' would not have been unusual at all in previous years, but in recent times the Fowl heir had seemed to shun his childhood friend in favour of taking a stronger interest in the family business. Domovoi would amuse himself instead, mostly. But his grandfather had noted he had not been quite so 'underfoot' this weekend; he had not followed him around on security checks and the likes as was his habit from an early age. Junior had also seemed glad their training session was a little shorter this morning, which was incredibly unlike the boy. The older Butler put it down partly to how the lad was feeling physically and was glad he seemed to be following the advice to 'get some rest'. But that didn't really explain why 'the boys' seemed thick as thieves once more...

They may seem to think he hadn't noticed, but they forgot Alexandr Butler was the father of twin sons; he knew when youngsters were 'up to something'. And speaking of his offspring, he knew Myles' keen nose for such things would be twitching had he been around, instead of what he was currently doing; guarding Mr Fowl and, if he had deduced correctly from the curt message he had received, suffering the fawning attentions of Eugene's acquaintances' less-qualified bodyguards.

"Please?" Dom added, when he hadn't answered in several seconds.

Alexandr sighed heavily through his nose. Apparently that conversation was going nowhere once again, but softly, softly, catchee monkey, as the saying went. He was nothing if not patient and he knew the boy better than he knew himself. He'd get him to open up soon enough.

"Alright," he said. "We'll talk another time then."

"So I can go?" Dom said, ignoring the statement and already halfway to the door.

"Let me check your head, first," he said sternly.

Dom turned around, somewhat impatiently. "Feels fine."

Xandr reached one hand to the top of his head, batted away the defending fingers that latched themselves to his wrist and planted his own on his grandson's head as though gripping a basketball, twisting gently so that Dom gave up with a roll of his eyes and presented the back of his skull for inspection.

"This got wet yesterday," Pa hummed accusingly, prodding a finger at the thin line of glue.

"Well you said to swim," Dom pointed out.

"I also said keep it dry," he muttered. "You can swim without getting your head under the water, you know."

"Yeah, but only slowly," Dom shrugged and his grandfather spun him back around and slapped two hands down on his shoulders.

He snorted, squeezing gently when he felt his grandson tense under his palms. The boy carried his injuries so well one could easily forget he had them.

"Right, you'll live," he pronounced.

"Thanks, Pa."

"Now go on, you little tyke. The young master's involving you in one of his schemes again, is it?" he asked.

"Something like that," Dom said and he left quickly before his grandfather could discern the smirk on his face too deeply.

Several Hours Later - The Garages, Fowl Manor

"I didn't even know we had bicycles," Artemis whispered.

"You don't," said Dom. "You can use mine."

"Well what will you use?"

"My uncle's," he said, pulling a mountain bike from the rack and scouting about for a case of Allen keys to adjust the seat heights.

Fortunately, Artemis's comment yesterday that they were almost of a height not so long ago was correct and he didn't need to alter his own bike to make it fit the older boy. His uncle's legs, however, were still much longer than his own and he dropped the seat down appropriately. He even remembered to make a small mark on the post so that he could put it back exactly as it had been, for surely the man would notice the next time he came to use it himself.

"Are you sure you can still ride a bike?" Junior asked, seriously.

He had memories; faded scenes of the pair of them learning to cycle together as kids, The Major running behind them across the sweeping lawns holding the back of the seats until they learned to balance for themselves, dusting off their knees when they crashed and congratulating their clumsy efforts when they didn't until, by the end of the day, they were both riding confidently unaided. He remembered colourful crash helmets, the scuffed toes of their shoes they had used to brake, the man's shirt sleeves, rolled up to grass-stained elbows where he had made many a cricket-catch-esque save of an unbalanced youngster. He remembered the scratchy picnic blanket he'd laid out for them and the cold lemonade they'd drunk in the shade of one of the manor ground's great oak trees. He remembered Mr and Mrs Fowl coming out to watch Artemis wobble with determination across the grass. Dom had wanted to show them he could too, but his uncle had quietly shushed him and let him sit on his hip and recite the pressure points of the human body as he lay on his side on the blanket, carefully eyeing the proceedings.

That evening, when Artemis had gone to bed and Dom too had been asleep for a couple of hours, The Major had woken him up and taken him down to the courtyard, where Pa had been waiting with the bikes. They had cycled the perimeter together by the light of the setting summer sun and Dom had learned quickly the difference between riding over smooth grass and rutted tracks. By the time they had got half way around, he had more grazes from and experience in cycling than the Fowl heir would have for many years to come. He had been three years old at the time and tired, as much as he tried to hide it. He had completed the circuit sat on the crossbar of The Major's bike, his own tiny version slung over his grandfather's shoulder as the two men raced half-seriously back to the manor at a speed young Dom had whooped and giggled at the whole way home.

It was fathers that were supposed to do that, wasn't it? - teach you how to ride a bike. Neither of their fathers had been up to the job, but The Major had ably stepped in to fill the void.

"Well I did as a child," said Artemis, perhaps remembering the scenes from his own perspective. "Besides; there's a famous proverb about never forgetting how to ride one, isn't there?"

"Well yes, but... Maybe just ride around the courtyard a few times to check you still can..."

He didn't want to get halfway down the drive to find the Fowl boy couldn't balance on two wheels. It would be a long old cycle if he couldn't maintain a speed and direction.

This was risky enough as it was.

They had spent the day plotting the whole thing, but the young bodyguard was still understandably uneasy. The Fowl held much less qualms about the whole thing, but then again he was pretty much untouchable when it came to getting into trouble.

Dom had planned to get a few hours sleep and then wake Artemis up to set off, but when Butler had checked in on them playing Rally Racers in the games room once again and said he was going to bed but he didn't expect telling them they should too would make a difference, Artemis had barely allowed an hour of breathing space before donning a dark tracksuit he had procured from somewhere and tapping impatiently on his young accomplice's door.

And now here they were. Stood in the sports equipment section of the garage, with a pair of bikes, ready to go on a journey to acquire a car to drive in an illegal rally race.

"Kind of exciting, isn't it?" the Fowl whispered as they wheeled their bikes across the grass, making no noise.

"Shh," Dom said, motioning silence with his free hand. "No talking unless it's absolutely necessary."

He was looking for the point on the wall where he knew the motion sensor was positioned like a tiny sighthound. He found it, even in the dark, and leaned his bike against the wall carefully.

"OK," he said, eyeing up the jump. "Stand back."

Artemis did so. He was not entirely surprised the young Butler expected to be able to make the vertical jump, despite the height of the boundary. But nor was he surprised when the teenager missed the top by a few inches and landed on the grass with grazed palms.

"Fuck," he muttered. He had been hoping to avoid this contingency part of the plan.

"I did think you'd struggle to make that," Artemis said, unhelpfully.

"Yes, thank-you," Dom said a little snappily. "You'll have to boost me."

"Boost you?" Tim hissed, suddenly not quite so amused. "As in, lift?"

"Well unless you want to disable the sensor? Or just call this whole thing off?" Dom whispered, irritably.

Despite his knowledge of physics, it took over a minute to position the Fowl in the correct stance to allow his skinny frame to support that of the stockier, younger boy. And even when he did so, his face was red with the effort and Dom was glad he managed to grab onto the lip of the wall on the first attempt, for he didn't think there would be a second.

He shimmied over, hanging by his fingertips and then performed a highly difficult 'muscle-up' manoeuvre, until he breached the top of the wall and could hold himself there with one forearm, his toes digging into the brickwork for purchase below. Dom felt the sweat beading on his neck as he carefully reached forward with his free hand and turned the motion sensor to point out into the night. When no alarms sounded or lights flicked on in the manor, he pulled himself up, rolled onto his belly on the capping of the wall and beckoned Artemis below.

"OK – lift them up!" he hissed.

Artemis struggled – it was a good job the bikes were lightweight. Even so, Dom nearly fell headfirst onto the ground when his friend's skinny arms gave out and he was glad he'd insisted they wear cycling helmets, for Artemis took quite a clattering off one of the back wheels. He lowered them as carefully as possible onto the far side, wishing he'd thought to bring a rope to make the whole process easier. The Fowl boy could possibly tie a knot, after all... The bikes landed with a bit of a crash on the far side of the grounds of Fowl Manor, but they were also, fortunately, robust.

"OK – jump up, I'll pull you up," he said, laying flat once more and leaning as far down the wall as he could.

Artemis tried, really he did. But his legs were built for carrying him from his bed to his office desk and back, not any degree of leaping – or for that matter, running and jumping, which he also tried.

Scuffed elbows and knees later, Dom thought of a Plan B.

"Don't climb down!" Artemis hissed. "I'll never get you back up there!"

"Won't need to," he assured him, swinging down lithely and landing lightly on the grass. "Now come on – up!"

The young Butler launched the Fowl, who managed to catch the top of the wall with his soft palms, though would have had no chance of using his upper body strength to propel himself any further had the boy on the ground not hoisted him higher by the ankles.

With much hissed arguing and complaining - with Dom giving serious consideration to going back for the aforementioned rope to hoist his future employer up by - Artemis Fowl made it to the top of the wall and clung to the capping in an undignified, flattened crouch.

"What are you going to do?" he asked, glad it was dark enough that the floor could feasibly not be so far away.

Dom didn't answer and disappeared. Artemis was about to call out again when there was a rustling of tree leaves and the boy leapt from a bough and appeared on top of the wall some metres away.

"Couldn't you have done that before and saved me all the lifting?" he hissed.

"Motion sensor, remember?" Dom said in explanation.

Artemis scowled, but he was grateful at least that it was only his lifelong companion that was there to see – and indeed help – him climb down off the wall.

Outside Durrick Court, Dublin

They pulled up on a deserted city street many, many, long, sweaty country miles later. They had seen hardly any signs of life on their hours of cycling. To Dom's relief they had seen only a handful of cars, their journey observed mainly by herds of sheep, a fox who barked a warning at them and once a ghostly barn owl, which had swooped overhead so low that Artemis had yelped and crashed headlong into a ditch, much to the barely restrained amusement of his future employee.

The Fowl heir, although he could indeed still ride a bike, had begun to think rather early in that he had made a mistake and should have listened to Junior when he insisted he should stay behind.

"Are we... ah... nearly there?" he asked, fearful of the response. Not only were they in an increasingly rough-looking neighbourhood, the last time he'd asked that question, the answer had been several miles more than he wanted to hear.

A dog barked somewhere in the distance and, nearer, deep-bassed music thumped from one of the upper floors of the building they had pulled up alongside, despite the late hour.

"This is it," Dom said with a nod.

"You live... here?"

"I live with you at the manor. I live at The Academy. I stay here occasionally," Dom corrected, gesturing at the tall, imposing block of flats that towered above them like grey cliffs, dotted with occasional rectangles of yellow light.

Artemis tried to keep his expression netural.

"It's fine – it's a shithole. You can say so," the Butler boy snorted.

"No, no I just... I didn't realise it would be so... ah, big..." he decided on as an adjective.

"You know that's a whole block of flats Tim, right?" Dom raised an eyebrow. "I only stay in one of them. Not like a whole floor or anything."

"Of course," Artemis said, with a small laugh. He had known that.

"Anyway – that's the car there; the red one. I'm going to go grab the keys."

"I'll come with you," Artemis said eagerly.

"No you'll not. I'll go alone."

"But..."

"You'll be fine out here. I'll be five minutes max. If anyone dodgy comes your way, just pretend you're on some sort of drug already. They'll only be trying to sell you some anyway so they should just leave you alone."

"And what if they're not trying to give me something?" asked Artemis. "You know – they're hoping to take something instead?"

"Then give them your watch," said Dom, simply. "I'll be as quick as possible."

He didn't like it either, but when it was between leaving his uncle's charge out here or taking him straight into the lion's den, it wasn't too much of a tough call.

"Why can't I come?" he hissed, eyeing the shadows nervously and pulling his sleeve down over his Rolex.

"It's..." Dom took a breath. "It's easy to fall off a bike up there."

"Well I made it this far – just!" he laughed. "Surely we're not taking the bikes up the stairs..."

Dom didn't laugh and Artemis suddenly caught his meaning.

"Oh... oh I see," he said, the realisation hitting him. "I understand."

"Just stay down here, ok?"

Artemis nodded.

"Of course. I'll just..." he leaned his bike on a nearby dustbin. "Keep my head down and wait here for you to return."

The bike crashed to the floor, sending the metal lid skidding across the road.

Dom grabbed his uncle's charge by the collar and slung him behind the Mini.

"Ow," Artemis muttered.

"Hush!" hissed Dom.

For a few seconds there was nothing.

Then they heard the sound of a window sliding up.

"Foxes don't ride bikes you know, jarhead," came the hushed shout from across the street.

"Bollocks," Dom muttered.

"Who's that?"

"Not the worst person it could be," he admitted quietly, standing up and raising his hand in welcome.

"How'd you guess it was me?" he asked.

"Narrowed it down to the only idiot I know might be crashing into bins at two am."

"You took a wild guess, you mean," he snorted.

"Yeah, but those bikes are too nice to belong to local dealers and even if they did, there's only you that answers to jarhead in these parts," she said, simply. "Smackhead, maybe, but..."

"Keep it down would you?" he whisper-shouted back.

"What'cha doing?"

"Knocking over bins at two am," he shrugged. "You?"

"Looking out the window at some idiot knocking over bins at two am."

"I'm sorry, is this some kind of code?" Artemis asked, standing up from behind the car suddenly.

"Who the hell is that?" Pash asked, squinting into the street.

Dom hushed both his friends.

"Ah, he's a friend."

"An Academy friend?" Pash asked, suddenly interested. "Hold up, I'm coming down."

"No - don't bother!"

"Who is she?" Artemis asked.

"A friend," Dom repeated. "It's ok."

"I thought you didn't have any friends?"

"I didn't say that," he sighed. "I said I don't have many friends. There's a difference."

"Look, I'm not hearing snippets of a conversation..."

"Can you go in my bag and get me my flat keys?" he asked. He had been planning to pick the lock, having forgotten in his freshly concussed state to transfer the keys into his clean clothes after his shower at the Patels'. "They're probably in the pocket of my shorts in my wet kit bag."

"Great - gross."

The girl at the window rolled her eyes and closed it. Half a minute later, the other one opened.

"I meant throw them down," Dom muttered.

"What is your reluctance for me to meet this... friend of yours?" Artemis asked, interestedly.

"No, I'm reluctant for you to meet my Academy mates. I'm reluctant for my civvy mates to meet you."

"Charming," Artemis Fowl sniffed.

"Look, I'm sorry but you're just a bit... you know," Dom shrugged. "Upper class."

"So don't introduce me as such!"

Dom raised an eyebrow, wondering if the Fowl heir could hear himself talk - 'introduce me as such' indeed...

"It doesn't bother me that you are," he assured him. "I just don't want things to be... awkward."

"How would they be awkward?"

"Pretty sure your wristwatch cost more than the mortgage of my friend's shop. I'm used to it, other people... not so much."

"Well maybe I'd prefer it if you just introduced me as... Joe Average."

"Joe Average? Tim what you're wearing doesn't exactly scream 'working class'," he informed him.

"This is a tracksuit," he said, non-plussed. "It's the least 'suity' suit I own."

"Did you really just say 'suity suit'?" Dom snorted.

"Oh give over. What we're doing isn't exactly 'upper class'," Artemis said, almost proudly. "Just introduce me as your friend Tim."

"Alright," Dom said, somewhat sceptically. "Just... try not to mention I'm destined to be in your employment in future, then."

Pashupriya dropped down the fire escape with more athletic ability than Artemis could ever hope to possess, dusted off her dressing gown and marched across the road.

"Your bag stinks like wet dog," she informed Dom immediately. "I'll get Amma to wash your stuff."

"Sorry - I know it must be bad. Chuck it down to me if you like, I'll take it now," he offered.

"Why - you don't want my mother having to handle your dirty undies?"

"Oh shut up," he huffed, as she hugged him tightly.

"How are you?" she asked as she handed him his key, concerned despite her teasing.

"Better," he told he, honestly.

"Well I'd be concerned if you were any worse," she said, wryly. "I was worried. Why didn't you call to say you got there safe?"

"Sorry," he wrinkled his nose.

"Luckily Holt came around to talk to us about P..."

"Yeah. He's good like that," Dom said quickly, with a sharp look towards Artemis, who was too busy glancing nervously up and down the street to notice. He was missing his bodyguard, if he was honest.

Pash nodded slightly in understanding.

"So who's this, then?" she asked, looking Artemis up and down briefly. "Not Ro, right?"

"No, this," Dom snorted. "Is not Ro."

Pash grinned. "Thought not somehow."

"What are you implying now?" Dom rolled his eyes and she winked at him.

"Hello," Artemis said, raising a hand in what he hoped was a casual manner.

His accent was Irish and sounded legit, so that narrowed down the list of Dom's remaining Academy friends down from seven to one, Pash deduced.

"Gotta say, I thought your pal Panther would be less..." she rolled her hand. "Refined."

"Oh he is," Dom agreed. "I've seen more refined street dogs than Pan. This is Tim."

"So where's he from?" Pash frowned. She knew Dom didn't have many circles of friends - and certainly not many civilian ones.

"I'm from his uncle's work," Artemis said, holding out a hand for her to shake.

Pash raised an eyebrow.

"Oh – so you're his uncle's charge, am I right?" she tilted her head in his direction.

Dom grimaced as Artemis shot him a surprised look. He probably should have warned the Fowl that Pash was sharper than your average razor blade and would see through his bullshit easier than breathing.

"So I'm to call you Junior," she said slowly. "And assume this is the guy you're going to work for one day."

"Please," Dom nodded.

"How did you deduce that?" Artemis frowned.

"She's good, eh?" Dom said with a shrug.

"Well, a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Master Fowl," said Pash, giving an exaggerated curtsy and shaking his still-extended hand.

"Ah, likewise," Artemis said, dipping his head in a small bow.

"Pasha..." Dom drawled, disapprovingly. "Don't be sarky. He's not my boss yet."

She straightened up and winked at him. "Sorry - habit I picked up from my best friend."

Dom shook his head and laughed. The Venn Diagram of his different lives crossing over was never going to be smooth.

"Alright, formalities over," he said. "Pash – will you stick with him while I go get the keys for the Mini?"

"You're stealing your mother's car?"

"I'm... borrowing it."

"Does she know?" she asked, raising one dark eyebrow.

"Ah... no."

"So you are basically stealing it then."

"Not... exactly," he cringed. "I'm planning to bring it back... eventually."

Pash raised her other eyebrow and looked at Artemis quizzically.

"Are you sure you want this jarhead looking after your future kid? He's really not the full picnic when it comes to sense and reason."

Artemis gaped momentarily.

"Hey – I'm stealing it for him, actually," Dom protested. "Would you just watch him for me for like five minutes and try not to spill any embarrassing stories about me while I'm gone?"

"I don't need a babysitter!" Artemis said hotly.

"One; obviously I will - why would I want to miss the only opportunity I might get to meet this guy? Two; of course I'm going to take full advantage of talking to him for every second of those five minutes and it's not my fault if your top ten fails come up as a topic of conversation," Pash said to Dom, then turned to Artemis. "And you. One; can't you just buy a car? Or, you know, a factory that makes cars. Two; have you actually ever stood outside on a street at night on your own?"

Artemis opened his mouth.

"Or in daylight, actually."

"Actually..."

"Actually no," Pash said. "Am I right? I'll watch him, Junior. Off you go."

Dom looked from one friend to another. Despite himself he grinned.

"And don't get yourself killed," she added. "You still owe me for saving your arse the other night."

"I'll try to remember that," he said. "You two try not to kill eachother while I'm gone."

And so Artemis could only watch as his junior bodyguard jogged off towards the block of flats without looking back.

"So," said Pash. "Tim isn't your full name, is it?"

"No," he admitted.

"Didn't think so. Sounds too... plain."

"'Pash' isn't yours, either," he deduced.

"No," she wrinkled her nose. "My full name is Pashupriya."

"That's a nice name."

"It's too long," said Pash. "If something was falling on my head and you had to shout a four syllable name to warn me, I'd be hit before you finished it."

"I suppose," he chuckled.

"Go on, what's yours then?"

"It's Artemis," he told her.

She frowned.

"Wait... isn't that a girl's name?"

Ah Pash, good to have you back haha

And who knew any Artemis Fowl could cycle?

I really hope you enjoyed the mental image of a sweaty-browed, shirt-sleeves-rolled-up Myles legging it at that leant-forward 'dad run' after Mini!Tim and EvenMinier!Dom on bikes as they pedalled off in different directions yet still managed to crash into eachother, whilst Pa watches and laughs from a window because he knows that's probably exactly what he looked like about twenty-five years ago, only his two were both the same age and determined to outdo eachother constantly... And I really hope you liked it because I just added it now on the final read through because *something* was missing and as usual in my opinion that was gruff!fluff...

Wolfy
ooo
O

05/06/2020