Disclaimer: I do not own Artemis Fowl (we've already discussed this and if I have to say it again I will be very sad, depressed enough not to update…)

Okay, responding to a review. He didn't slip about the fairies. He was making a joke. *shock* Yeah, I know, very un-Artemis. He threw in the fairies to confuse her because he knew she'd never be able to come up with anything.

Okay, I said this would be my last story (don't worry, this isn't the end of it). But the thing is, after this story is over, it's still got at least another five chapters or so, I think, I'm out of ideas. If anybody wants to give me an idea to use, I'll be glad to write more. Preferrably following the same story these last 4 have followed, or at least one that is pre-EC. Email me ideas. J

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            Artemis woke to a familiar sound; his cell phone was ringing. He groped in the dark and picked it up. He blinked as he looked at the clock. It was three in the morning. Furthermore, only Butler had this number and Butler was asleep in another room. He attempted to sound awake as he spoke, "Hello."

            "G'morning, Junior!" said a cheery voice.

            "What do you want?"

            "Aren't you just a little ray of sunshine?"

            "It's three in the morning. You'd better be on your deathbed."

            " 'Fraid not."

            "How'd you get this number?"

            "You gave it to me."

            "What?" That's right, he thought. This was the number he'd started to give her. If he'd given her one of the house lines his mother might have answered it. He shuddered. But he hadn't finished giving her this number. What had she done, called the number he'd given her and then just tried everything for the last digit until she found it?

            "This is the number you gave me. The first six digits anyway. I decided I'd try my luck for the seventh."

            "How many people have you called at 3 in the morning today?"

            "Just you," her voice still very cheerful.

            "You got it right on first try, lucky me," he said dryly.

            "No. I made all of my other tries earlier. Then I got down to one number left, 5. I decided that since I knew it was you, I'd leave it for later as a bigger surprise."

            "How thoughtful. Anything else or can I go back to sleep?"

            "Yes. Although I suppose you really need your beauty sleep. I was wondering if you knew the square root of 17,938?"

            He thought for a moment. "Roughly 133.9."

            "What is the periodic symbol for mercury?"

            "Hg."

            "What was Machiavelli's chief work?"

            "The Prince."

            Artemis answered her questions until he became irritated and hung up. She called back and started again. He shut off his phone and tried to go back to sleep.

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            He woke up rather later than expected and went downstairs for breakfast. "Sorry, Mother, I was very tired last night. I must have forgotten to set my alarm."

            "That's alright, dear. What have you been up to, Arty? We heard you laughing yesterday."

            "Oh. Laughing . . ." He remembered what had caused him to laugh. He couldn't explain it to his mother, she didn't know about the fairies. "A friend from school emailed me. Sent an excellent joke and I was reading it."       

            "Really? What was the joke?"

            Artemis paled slightly. He didn't know any jokes. "I really can't remember at the moment. I shall look it up later, if you'd like. It wouldn't take more than a few moments. I'd just have to reboot the computer, there was an error, and reinstall—"

            "Never mind, Arty," his mother said hastily.

            He almost smiled; his techno-babble had done its job. She had almost no idea what he meant, but she knew it sounded complicated. He shrugged, "That's fine."

            Artemis wondered where Alyssa was. What was she eating right now? He knew nothing about her. He doubted there would be many files on her that he could hack into online. Why did she have to be such a mystery? He hated not knowing things. He'd likely never see her again. It was a shame really; she was fairly intelligent. And funny. And pretty. And really very nice. But she knew how to hold her own in a battle of wits, which was probably the most important thing for anyone who was going to associate with Artemis.

            "Arty? Arty?" his mother tapped his arm and he came out of his reverie. "I've been trying to get your attention for almost ten minutes. Are you alright?"

            "Oh, yes mother. I'm fine. Just thinking of my fun filled summer."

            "You have plans?"

            "Oh, just a few things I'd like to get done. I'd like to go back to the museum; our class didn't spend enough time there. And there's a show playing in Dublin that looks simply fascinating," he bluffed.

            "Oh." She hesitated and smiled. "That's wonderful! Are you going to invite any of your friends along?" she asked eagerly.

            "Probably not. It's not really their sort of interest." He didn't really like lying to his mother, but he wasn't very well about to tell her the truth now.

            "Oh. Okay then. But you let me know if you change your mind."

            "Of course, Mother. If you'll excuse me? I'm feeling a bit restless. I think I'll take a walk outside."

            "Wear a hat or you might get burnt. It is summer, even if it doesn't look like it." She looked out the window at the dark, cloudy sky.

            "Yes, Mother." He took a hat out of the closet, put it on to appease his mother, went outside, and took it off.

            He wandered about the grounds a little aimlessly. He was behaving most peculiarly and he knew it would only be a matter of time before the others noticed, if they hadn't noticed already. He'd laughed yesterday, he was lost in his thoughts during breakfast, and now he was out for a walk in the fresh air. This girl was not good for him. He knew all those things were his fault. He sighed. What was he supposed to do? He tried not thinking of her, but that made things worse.

            He was aware that Butler was following him at a distance. He wondered, perhaps he could write to that elf, Kelp. Trouble seemed to understand women. After all, he was either very stupid or very smart to marry Holly. Artemis still hadn't decided which. Holly was . . . interesting. He partly pitied Trouble. But Trouble must have done something right because Holly had a lot of good qualities too. After being separated so much from his beloved laptop, Artemis had grown accustomed to keeping at least one notebook in his pocket. He sat down and started writing a letter in Gnomish. That ought to get attention and hopefully it would end in the right hands.

My esteemed Lieutenant Colonel Trouble Kelp,

I am writing to you for advice. This is a little awkward but I think you're the right person I should be talking to. I need advice on women. One in particular, a recent friend I met at an art museum. I can't get her out of my thoughts and she greatly distracts me. I would appreciate a meeting. If you can come, the full moon is in one week's time (as you undoubtedly already know) and I believe that would likely be the best time for us to meet and discuss the matter, otherwise I shall check for a reply letter in a week's time.

Yours sincerely (and I hope confidentially),

Artemis Fowl the Second

He straightened. "Butler?" he said softly, knowing the faithful bodyguard was nearby. "Would you please drive me somewhere? I have to mail a letter."

            When they got in the car, Artemis told him where to go.

            Butler asked no questions as he drove the boy to where he knew E1 to be. They left the letter near the entrance, the letter carefully labeled and sealed. They drove home in silence until they were about twenty minutes away.

            "Artemis, I know something's bothering you. I have an idea as to what it is. Why don't you talk to me about it?"

            "I would if it were that easy, Butler," he said sincerely. But Butler knew him better than Trouble did, therefore it would be more embarrassing for Artemis. Also, Butler wasn't married and Artemis was clueless as to the last time Butler had had a girlfriend. Trouble had probably dated a fair amount and now he was married. Ergo, Trouble was the logical choice, wasn't he? Artemis began to worry that he had not made the right decision, something he didn't do often.

            "Artemis, you know you can talk to me about anything, don't you?"

            "I know, Butler. And I will, when I'm ready."

            "I understand."

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Did anybody get what 3695 can spell? *grin* Until next time . . .