A.N.-Its so bloody hard to write Artemis fan fiction! We don't have enough bloody characters to work with! Harry Potter has at least 45 developed characters and we only have what? Seven, eight? Blast. Well, I am going to try hard to make this work and maybe, just maybe, I can convince some of you that I do have some creativity..

Fowl Manor, Ireland.
Artemis smiled. His bank account had swollen considerably since he last checked. He spun around in the computer chair, holding his arms in the air. "What are you so happy about?" his father laughed, coming into the study. Artemis immediately straightened, returning his face to the normal expressionless figure. "Only the fact that the family fortune has been totally restored. Interest has filled the gap that was still empty. We're back." "Arty, I could hit you. I would have thought that the vacation we all took to Austria would have knocked some of that out of you." "Father, someone has to look after the money. You don't seem like you care about it anymore." "Son," Fowl Senior crossed the room and sat on the desk next to the computer. Artemis winced as a few disks fell to the floor. His father didn't appear to notice. "There are more important things that money." "Yes, Father, but it is important, isn't it?" "It is important only for the things we need. And I must say that half of the things we own we don't need." The son inwardly groaned. When was this nonsense going to stop? "What I really came up here to ask was if you were hungry." The younger considered it. "Yes, I suppose I could do with some food." The older slid his hand into his son's own smaller one. Artemis nearly jumped. He would never be used to this.

Downstairs, Angeline was waiting for her husband and son. She smiled and hugged her son. "Its so good to see you out in the house. You stay on that computer too much." She led the way to the huge table and sat next to him. "Everyone needs a hobby, Mother." "Yes, I suppose they do. I just wish yours was a more social pastime." "He's a teenage boy," Artemis Senior said, "He likes to be alone." She sighed and pursed her lips. Butler came through the door, carrying a tray of rolls. Artemis smiled at him and the manservant did the same. He set the rolls down and went back into the kitchen.

Later that evening, Artemis sat on his bed and grinned. He had just finished a wonderful dinner and couldn't have eaten another bite if you paid him. Well, maybe.He reached over to the intercom button and pushed it. "Yes, Artemis?" Butler said on the other side. "Butler, I need you to come up here." Three minutes later, the manservant knocked on the door and Artemis said, "Come in." The boy met the man halfway across the room and looked up at him. "Juliet told me something interesting yesterday." "What was that?" "That today is your birthday." Artemis crossed his arms and raised his eyebrows. "Why did she tell you that?" "We were talking about you and I asked when it was." "Oh," was all he could think of for a reply. "You never told me when it was." "That's something we aren't supposed to tell. Like our first names." "Is that so, Domovoi?" The manservant grinned sheepishly. "Anyway, I wasn't able to get you anything because you go everywhere with me and then it would have been ruined. So, all I can give you is my thanks. I want to thank you for saving me on numerous occasions, for keeping me alive, and everything else you have done over the past fourteen years." The boy threw his arms around the bodyguard's waist and squeezed. Butler, for once in his life caught off-guard, timidly put his own arms around his charge. He had to admit that since the return of Artemis Senior, Artemis the second had indeed become more emotional. Of course, the boy would never admit it but the bodyguard could tell. He had, after all, known him his whole life. When the two finally parted, Artemis looked up again and wiped a tear from his eye. "Thank you, sir," Butler said. That was the best present the young Fowl could have given him.