Author's Note: Welcome back, my beautiful readers. As promised, the Butler reunion, Holly dealing with some strange occurrences and Lucifer… being Lucifer. Enjoy!

Disclaimer: Eoin Colfer owns all the characters from Artemis Fowl, I only own my imagination and my characters.

Chapter 7

3 years ago, …

It had been what, ten years? Probably less than that. When he showed up in her office, her messy brown hair stuck in every direction and the dark circles under her eyes made her look as if she hadn't slept in years.

"You look shit. Have you aged really fast?" he greeted her, jumping down from the window sill. She flinched, spilling her coffee on her dress and documents. It only added to her dishevelled appearance.

"What are you doing here?"

Lucifer plastered a smile on his face. Taking a pile of papers, he let them drop to the floor, making space for himself on the desk. Crossing his legs, he placed his chin on his hands, ignoring her shouts of protest.

"That is not the welcome I expected. How about, 'Oh Lucifer, I can't believe you remembered me after all these years. I missed you'?" he offered in a falsetto voice.

Sofia glared at him, patting the biggest stain with tissues.

"I have a class in ten minutes. Is there anything you want? Otherwise, I'd appreciate it if you left."

While the Sofia ten years ago would have been excited about the Devil showing up in her office, the today Sofia had other problems. She put an overdue notice on the pile with the other ones. She would be dealing with that after class. Or the day after. This time for real.

"Do you need money?" he asked sympathetically. Mortals always needed money. He grabbed some banknotes from his jacket and passed them over. Sofia slapped his hand away.

"I don't want your money. I have a job. I have a career!"

Lucifer gave her a pointed look. "Is that why you are sleeping here?"

She froze. "How did you–?"

"I didn't, just a shot in the dark," he answered with a smug smile. Not quite true. He had spotted the folded blanket under her desk. But let the mortal believe he was psychic. That only added to their inferiority complex.

Sofia averted her gaze, concentrating on the coffee splatters on her dress.

"My flatmate left the key in the door, I couldn't get in. Happens."

"Often?"

The woman didn't answer, rubbing furiously over her dress. Lucifer lifted his eyebrows.

"What happ–"

"What happened? Life happened, Sherlock. Stop being so judgy. I live in New York and it's fuc– very expensive, okay?" she snapped, cursed in Italian and threw the tissue into the bin.

Interesting. He hadn't expected that bright child to be such a disillusioned woman after being gone for only...

"When did we last see each other?"

"Seven years ago," she said, her voice distant.

Lucifer scanned the bare office. The only attempt in making it more personal was the Tosca poster on the wall. Its colours had faded and the paper started to curl away from the wall. It had come with the office.

"And how did you fall from being the star of the Vatican to a college professor who gets locked out by her flatmate?"

His gleeful smirk was too much to bear. She swallowed down the lump in her throat, lifted her chin and met his gaze with defiance.

"I am a university professor."

"Sleeping in your office. Tomayto, tomahto. You are still a failure. I thought you'd be the Prefect by now."

Sofia slumped in her swivel chair, blinking back tears. Rubbing a hand over her face, she couldn't even muster a glare at him.

"What do you want?" she mumbled.

He grinned in triumph. "I have a job for you that will actually challenge your intellect. I need you to find somebody for me."

Turning on her desk lamp, Sofia grabbed a notepad and a pen, her class forgotten. She was about to scribble something when she began to frown. "How did you find me?"

Lucifer sneered, his skin stretching tautly over his gaunt face. "I tortured the Prefect to find out."

The pen fell out of her hand and she gaped at him. He burst out laughing.

"I was only joking, relax, little one. I found you in that bottomless library you mortals have squeezed into all these boxes with the black windows."

He pulled a phone from his pocket, pushing some buttons and showed it to her. A bunch of cuddling rabbits appeared on the screen.

"You know how to use the Internet?" Sofia was in awe.

The angel shrugged. "Of course, I can do anything."

"How did you get a phone?"

"I received it as a gift."

Sofia scowled, playing with the pen in her hand. "You mean, you stole it?"

"Me?!" he asked. His mouth fell open and he fanned himself with his hand in mock offendedness. "I would never do such a thing! I asked the mortal very politely to show me how the machine works and he did. And then he gifted me his box."

She had a pretty good idea how he had convinced the man, but dropped the matter. "Who are you looking for?"

The angel was silent for a moment, the playful gleam in his eyes gone, replaced by seriousness. He searched her face, regarding her like a book written in a foreign language. "A demon. His name is Yonatan."

"Is he a friend of yours?" Sofia glanced up from her notepad.

Lucifer shook his head. Pursing her lips, she opened her mouth when she understood. She wondered if that Yonatan was as difficult to deal with as Lucifer.

"Your husband? Boyfriend?"

Lucifer tilted his head to the side. "What? No appalled outcry? Aren't you going to recite the Bible or something?"

She wasn't sure if he wanted her to be shocked or if it was his usual way of reacting to whatever she said or did.

"How are we going to find him?" she asked, ignoring his comment.

"Gee, you think I would be here if I'd known this?" he asked, his voice dripping with sarcasm. He put an extremely old book in front of her.

"This might be helpful, but I am too busy to read all of it. I am sure you can find something useful in it."

Sofia opened the book, the familiar old Aramaic letters greeting her like an old friend. She had an inkling Lucifer couldn't read the script, but kept that theory to herself. Putting the pen down, she scratched her forehead.

"If I help you,… will my soul end up in Hell?"

Lucifer scoffed. "You'll end there anyway. There is no Heaven for mortals."

Seeing the doubt on her face, he held out his hand. "I'll show you."

The corridor of the hospital floor was unusually quiet. Too quiet. Something was afoot. Holly had drawn her blaster and was peeking through the windows of different rooms. Nobody was around.

She hoped the pixie had called Root. If the commander managed to not scare the nurse into a nervous break-down, he would send out some officers. Stampa suffered from PTSD and would easily be overpowered, but as far as she was concerned, she was going to do this according to protocol. No need to give the Council any more reason to investigate her.

Holly reached Sebastian's room and couldn't help but wince at the patch of blood on the bed. There was no way a simple bite would have caused the victim to bleed that much. Besides, hospital employees always had to be full to the tips of their ears with magic, because of the nature of their jobs. The nurse would have been able to heal himself. Something was wrong.

Holly curled and uncurled her fists, her instincts screaming at her to get out. She wasn't alone, but she couldn't see anyone. Pricking up her ears, she waited. It wasn't so much a sound as vibration, coming from another room. Anybody else would have dismissed it as vivid imagination, but Holly trusted her gut feeling.

She carefully drew nearer and pushed the door open. The blinds were drawn, the dim light casting formless shadows on the walls. And there, huddled in one corner was a male nurse. Unharmed, by the looks of it.

Holly didn't relax. The hollow feeling in her stomach stayed as she crouched down next to him. "What happened? Are you okay? Have you seen Mr Stampa?"

The pixie shook his head, blinking back tears and rocking himself back and forth. "It happened so fast."

"What did?" Holly asked, although she already had heard the pixie's account on the matter.

He swallowed once: "He just, you know, jumped at me. I checked on him and then he jumped. He bit me and I started bleeding. It was horrible."

Holly paused when her helmet notified her of the commander calling. Root had indeed received a call from a hysterical pixie and he had no patience for emotional creatures. He had tried once, many centuries ago and it had ended in a divorce. That had been in his private time, he wouldn't waste his work time treating a civilian. He had barked a few orders at the poor woman until she had calmed down enough to tell him what she had told Holly. He had ordered a direct connection to the captain at once.

"What is happening?" he demanded without a greeting.

"This is strange, Commander," Holly started, trying to make sense of the situation.

Her gaze dropped to the terrified pixie. He was hugging his knees, a wet patch on his sleeve she hadn't noticed before. She pointed at it: "What is that?"

The pixie pulled his sleeve down, trying to hide it.

"No-nothing" he stammered. Holly grabbed his arm and pushed the sleeve back, revealing a bitemark. Not deep enough to cause real danger to the pixie, but if he had any magic left, it shouldn't be there.

"Comman–," she started, only to be interrupted by the pixie, leaping at her and knocking her over. The male nurse wrapped his hands around her neck, surprising her with his strength. Recovering from her initial shock, Holly wrestled with him, kneed him in the groin and pushed him off her. Without much effort, she got back on her knees and whipped out a pair of handcuffs from her side.

"You are arrested for the obstruction of justice," she grunted, but the elf didn't acknowledge it. He jumped back up and attacked her again.

"Holly what is your status?!" Root asked, unnecessarily. Holly's helmet camera recorded everything, immediately sending images to the commander.

Holly grunted, trying to avoid the punch. "Give me a second, Commander."

The nurse was strong, but he wasn't a trained fighter. He left an opening for her, which she used to twist his arm behind his back, handcuffing him. He wouldn't give up. He shoved and kicked back like a panicked animal.

"What the heck?" she shouted and pushed him onto one of the hospital beds in the room. She gripped one of the bed's belts and started to fixate the elf. He violently fought against her, trying to bite her hand. Holly jumped back in surprise, racking her brain to find a plausible explanation for his behaviour. He had looked normal, no indications for a psychosis. In fact, as soon as Holly took another step back, he stopped resisting his bonds. He looked down at the restraints, then up at her. His eyes filled with tears.

"Please, you have to help me," he groaned. "He attacked me. I wanted to help him and he bit me. Don't let him get to me!"

Holly frowned. "Did you get all this, Commander?"

He grunted on the other line. "Affirmative. A whole bunch of nutcases."

Captain Short wasn't so sure about that. The sudden change in his attitude could have been due to mental illness, but would he have been allowed to work at the hospital if that had been the case? It didn't look as if he had any control over himself back there.

She stepped forward. The elf started to thrash against his restraints. The look on his face went from fear to hunger. Holly leaned back and the elf calmed down again.

"Did he say anything?"

The elf paused, perplexed.

"Sebastian. Did he say anything before or after he bit you?"

After a moment, he nodded. "He said that... that it was time."

"Time for what?"

"I don't know. That is all he said. C-can you let me go?"

Holly shook her head, and stepped around the bed to the window, careful not to come to close to the elf, peeking through the blinds. The cold knot in her stomach had only become bigger, ever since Sebastian had made his revelation to her.

"Commander, I don't think this is a normal attack," she said.

Root had chewed his cigar butt so hard that he was still spitting out tobacco flakes. He knew what Holly was alluding to. Something was weird alright, but he was sure that it was some kind of terror attack. Not angels wreaking havoc. Angels. Next thing, the Easter bunny would be knocking on his door. No, thank you.

Holly cleared her throat.

"Commander, I've been told Stampa went wild and bit a nurse. Then I found his victim, who tried to attack me as well. No sign of Stampa anywhere. This might be an isolated case but if not, this will get really bad, really soon."

Root nodded in his office. "Good thinking. I'll send out a squad. We'll shut down the hospital. Nobody goes in or out. Keep an eye on the crazy one."

The hospital door creaked open. Holly turned around to face three very hungry looking pixies. Scowling she switched her blaster to Stun.

Butler drove to Sofia's tiny flat in Brooklyn's Windsor Terrace and stopped in front of the apartment complex, one of the many colourful facades lining the quiet street. Sofia had planned on going upstairs alone, talking to the Major first. He would know what to do, especially when it came to the boy tagging along. As if he had read her mind, Artemis leaned over.

"It would be best if Butler accompanied you to your apartment, Professor. He can make sure that no unwanted guests are waiting for you. I am sure Captain Kelp won't mind waiting in the car with me, Butler."

Were children getting more and more devious these days? Sofia could have sworn she had been busy dancing to the Pointer Sisters at his age.

Nonetheless, she got out of the car with the giant man and walked up the stairs. She lived on the fifth floor. No elevator. Which suited her well. If it was a pain for her to get up the stairs, then it would be too much hassle for any burglars. She didn't have a lot of valuables to steal from, to begin with. A few first edition books, but she doubted anyone would be interested in those. Still, it made her feel safer and gave her some exercise.

Butler reached for his Sig Sauer, the moment she pushed the keys into the keyhole. He entered first, listening intently for any signs of intruders. The distant street lights barely illuminated the small flat. Everything was in disarray. Books lay scattered around, clothes were strewn on the couch. Someone had already searched the flat. And that someone was still there.

Butler stepped into the living room, pistol pointed at the person, sitting with his back to them.

"Hands in the air, where I can see them," Butler demanded. The man complied and turned.

Sofia's view was blocked by Butler's broad shoulders. She ducked, peering through a gap in the door frame. Up close the likeness between the two men was astounding. She had kept sneaking glances his way at the hotel, but never managed to complete the comparison as he kept catching her. Now, however, it couldn't be denied. They shared the same narrow nose and the same full lips, although the Major looked buffer and meaner than his younger counterpart. He regarded his nephew with a cool look.

"I was expecting you ten minutes ago, mal'chik," he said.

Any Russian hearing the Major address Butler as mal'chik would have been surprised. Maybe they would have laughed. But only once. Butler stepped aside to let Sofia enter, who now had to endure the Major's piercing glare. She dropped her gaze to the table. Two items were lying in front of him. A pistol and a necklace with a blue stone attached to it.

The Major tossed her the necklace. He waited for her to clumsily catch it and put it around her neck. Then he motioned to the pistol. "You know what this is?"

Sofia had a nightmare once, where the Major was scolding her in front of her whole high school class. This had the same feeling to it, apart from her wearing clothes and only one person who could gleefully laugh at her afterwards.

"It's a pistol," she stared at him, silently pleading him to stop. The Major didn't notice it or didn't care.

"And what does it do in your flat?"

She considered citing an article which stated that people owning a gun were five times more likely to be killed in an assault. The expression on the older man's face stopped her before she had even opened her mouth.

"I didn't think I would need it in the library." After all, what was the worst a book could do to you?

The Major wouldn't let it go. "Even without it, why didn't you defend yourself? You have been getting all those Muay Thai lessons."

Sofia wiped her hands on her dress, mumbling and racking her brain for an excuse.

"Excuse me?"

"I haven't been going to the classes," she admitted.

"But you have been going to the gym for a year now."

"Oh, I've been going to the gym, just not the Muay Thai classes," Sofia said quickly, stumbling over the words at the sight of the Major's frown.

"So, you have been doing what? Kickboxing?"

Sofia shifted around, her cheeks burning. She shook her head, giving her shoes a scrutinizing examination.

"What then?" the older man asked, his voice strained.

Sofia sighed. "I have been going to Bollywood Dancing classes."

The Major groaned. Butler forced a blank look on his face.

"They were kicking me and it hurt," Sofia explained weakly.

The Major gave her a pointed look. That man was still as scary as on the first day. She scurried past him to her bedroom, avoiding any eye contact. "I need to pack a few things," she mumbled.

Butler turned to his uncle, unsure of what to say. He had so many questions, but now he didn't know what to ask first.

"You were dead," he blurted out. It sounded like an accusation, he realized. The Major didn't reply but gave him a hard stare. Butler had forgotten how unsettling the gaze was.

Avoiding his uncle's eyes, Butler looked around the living room. The chaos in the flat hadn't been due to a burglary. It was just a messy place. He couldn't see any apparent system either.

The bookshelves that were in the room were filled to the brim. Open boxes filled with more books lined up under the window. And even more books stacked on any available surface. The table, chairs, windowsills. The professor had converted book piles to dish trays, unwashed plates and mugs waiting desperately to be taken into the kitchen.

"You work for that Lucifer now?" Butler didn't turn around; it was easier to talk to the Major this way.

"I am protecting the woman from the Nephilim."

"She was stabbed today."

A cheap shot. One, which would have earned him a day-long run around the Manor in the past. But the Major wasn't his superior anymore. He didn't know what the Major was anymore. They shared the same training, the same last name, the typical family resemblance. But the more similarities Butler found the more he realized how little he really knew about his uncle.

The Major didn't take the bait, rising calmly from his chair. "I can't be at two places at the same time."

Instead of elaborating, he handed Butler a piece of paper: "This is the location. I will meet you at the safe house. Keep malen'kiy irlandets out of this. If he is anything like his father, he will get himself killed."

The bodyguard didn't answer. For once, he couldn't agree more with his uncle.

A/N: And that's us for this week. The Major is great. He has a mind of his own and keeps defying my expectations. And plans, too. He made me re-write all his scenes because he refused to say what I wanted him to say… Come to think of it, he is a major pain. And scary. He is the worst.

Thanks for reading and coming along this ride with me.