A/N: I present to y'all the next chapter…y'all. Oh, I am so proud of my Southern heritage. Indeed. THANK YOU ALL REVIEWERS! Even critical ones, because when they reviewed, that means they read my story, which means they read through the summaries of many stories and decided upon my own. [big grin] Yay! GO REVIEWERS!!!
Remus Junior- Yes, you could say he's normal. Well, as a normal as Artemis Fowl is going to get [which isn't a lot.]. No…I don't think I'm normal either. You're not alone. I bet I CAN say snickerdoodle faster than you!! SNICKERDOODLE! Haha look at that. [-triumph..walkes around proudly and runs straight into the wall..-] I'm okay, I'm okay. Keep up the awesome reviews man! You've become one of my favorite reviewers.
Dr Whom- I DO think Dr Whom would be a splendid name. It's very unique. Never heard of it before. Nice work on the revews! Keep it up! I loved your review. Haha…offensively cutesie. And actually O'Malley was inspired by a person in my school named Grace O'Malley. Thanks Grace if you're reading this hehe.
The CheezHead- Thank you for the very good tips on my fic. I appreciate them very much. NOTE TO ALL REVIEWERS: THIS REVIEWER IS THE BEST AT CONSTRUCTIVE CRITISISM. Take notes from The CheezHead. And remember, review, review, review.
Dranius I never did notice that Fowl spelled Wolf. He is a bit like a wolf, isn't he? Haha, yes. But wolves are cool. Thanks for the compliments. I'll take your advice. THANK YOU FOR IT. I might consider adding a bit of your idea in…..but you'll just have to wait and see. –grins evilly- If I do, I'll dedicate the chapter to you. Keep reviewing!! Review, review, review. You know the drill.
Dani D- Thank you for the compliment! Your review boosted my self esteem several notches. –beams- Heh heh. Keep on reviewin'!!
Alatira-Intelar Once again: thanks for the compliments. Snaps for you. –snap snap- Don't be crushed…I got the next chappie goin'! Tehehe.
ArchaosYes, I'll need the luck, thank you. AND THE PLOT THICKENS! Thanks for the compliments also. Keep up the great reviews! I'm glad you're reading my story.
moony's mystery-Saratoga? Ha. Awesome review. Makes me feel all warm and fuzzley inside. [Heh heh….fuzzley….. :P] Review again, please!!!
Also thanks to: Ruinsul! She is the best. –smiles- GO RUINSUL…..YEAH!! Wh-hoo.
Disclaimer: I do not own Artemis Fowl. Unfortunately. Eoin Colfer is awesome. Nope, the only thing I own is the plot and my character, Amalia Greenwich. And that crazy lady in chapter 2 and 3. Haha…she was a cool cat. :P I kind of modeled her after my math teacher….and if you're reading this…you're a cool cat Mrs D. Heh heh.
Now…..I know you all have been waiting for this. ON WITH THE FIC, SHALL WE? Okay. Here y'all go.
Chapter 17
Close Calls
Amalia's PoV
I couldn't believe it. My brother Patrick had come back. But…Didn't he die? I thought to myself. A little voice in the back of my head said 'Well, obviously not.'
I thought he had died in the terrible accident. Mom, Dad, and Camille had died. Unless they were miraculously alive and wandering around the Earth, too. Which I highly doubted. This led to question:
How did he survive? And where had Pat been all of these years? Which eventually led to:
Why had he suddenly come back?
I thought about this. There was no money in the accounts. Miss M had drained what little there was of it, that was for sure. So he couldn't have come back for money. There was nothing valuable about me. Or so I thought. I lay there in bed, thinking, wondering WHY. Why me? WHY?! Why was Pat back? Had someone sent him? How did he find me? Where has he been? Questions bombarded my head until finally I shook myself under the covers, attempting to free my brain of these confusing thoughts. To no avail, though. Seconds later they came back.
I wondered where Pat was now. No doubt that sneaky Fowl boy and his manservant Butler had put him in secure albeit comfortable quarters. They certainly could afford such a thing. I turned over on my side. I groaned. Just when I thought my life couldn't get any more complicated, Patrick had to show up. I had turned nineteen on October 17. Yippee. Another birthday noticed by no one. As usual.
My mind went back to when I first joined C19 7. I sighed. Those were the simple days. All I had to do basically was make beds, run errands, and file papers. Of course, I was never to look at the papers under any circumstances. The guard at the door and his friend Mister Fist made sure of that. No…I didn't get my first assignment until I was seventeen. At the time I was overjoyed. Now, I know I should have quit this foul agency a LONG time ago. Yes, my first assignment was the London ordeal. Fighting on Big Ben. Nearly falling out of the window inside of the gigantic clock tower. By a stroke of luck, the chime for three o'clock went off, deafening the foe temporarily. If it wasn't for that…well, let's just say you wouldn't have to worry about my babbling.
I thought through the night. Finally falling asleep around four forty-five. The next thing I knew, there was a knock at my door. A woman's distinctly Irish voice reminded me of my duties at the Fowl Manor.
"Miss! Amalia! It is eight o'clock sharp and ye have ta be startin' the beds now," the woman said.
I groaned inwardly and sat up in bed, taking a peek in the mirror at what resembled a dust mop, but was actually my hair. "Oh! Yeah…I'll be right out. Sorry." I replied.
"Just make it quick. The beds aren't goin' ta make themselves, ya know."
"Yes, yes, I know." I muttered to myself, under my breath. I heard the click of heels down the corridor. The woman had left. I stood up and stretched, trying to cover a big yawn. I peered up at the camera through half-open eyes. I grabbed my clothes from the drawer: A white t-shirt, jeans, tennis shoes, and a black apron/smock. I moved to the blond spot of the camera, in the corner by the window, and changed. I headed to the bathroom, brushed my teeth, put my hair up into a messy bun, and splashed water on my face, all in a rush. In my haste, I got water all over the waist and neck of the smock. Great…,I thought. I brushed the water off, thankful that the smock was semi-waterproof.
I opened the door and stepped out into the hallway. Once again, I was amazed by the architecture of the Manor. I have been here for over a month now and yet I am still amazed. Amazing. So busy was I, looking that a painting while walking, I didn't notice a maid coming down the hallway with a full laundry basket, all of the garments neatly folded and starched. I backed away from the painting, walking backwards. (Stupid mover, I know, I know.) I barreled straight into the maid coming down the hallway, who was looking behind her, chatting with a woman dusting an ancient vase. Laundry went everywhere. "Oh my god! I'm so sorry! I…I'm so sorry! I was…I didn't see…You were coming down and...—"
The woman cut me off. The had brown, mousy hair, streaked with gray, pulled back into a tight bun. "Stop! Stop, stop, stop! Just help me pick this up, and we shall deal with the consequences afterwards." I knelt on the carpeted floor, picking up and folding each shirt, sheet, and towel one by one. It was a slow and tedious process, but the elderly maid stood by and surveyed my every move. This made my fingers fumble, causing me to drop shirts or fold them incorrectly. She tut-tutted the whole way through. I breathed an audible sigh of relief when I placed the last piece of clothing into the basket, but quickly cleared my throat, hoping she wouldn't notice the sigh.
She grabbed my arm. "Come, Miss Amalia. We need to pay a visit to Mister Dominic." Oh, no, I thought, Not Butler… I was in for it now.
She led me through a complex maze of corridors and rooms, finally ending at an office/study that was a deep hue of green, bordered with all types of woods. A black, micro-fiber-finished desk sat in the middle. Mounted on it was a flatscreen modem and a black keyboard. Next to it was a silver laptop, the peek of technology. "Sir? Mister Dominic, sir? Might I have a word with you?" Butler looked up from the monitor of the laptop. The constant tapping noise stopped. He must have been typing something.
"Why certainly, Ms. Spiel. Please step inside." Butler motioned to a door labeled 'Conference'. Nope…this was not going to pretty. He looked over Ms. Spiel's shoulder and saw me at the door. Immediately, from his change of expression, I sensed he knew that they were going to 'have a word' about. I turned around and stared out the window. All I could do now was wait.
Ms. Spiel followed him into the conference room and the door clicked shut behind them. I walked to the door and lightly put my ear to it, hoping I could hear tiny bits of conversation. To no avail; the room was soundproofed.
After approximately ten minutes of talking, Butler and Ms. Spiel emerged from the room. "Ahem…" Butler cleared his throat, a fist to his mouth. "Miss Greenwich, may I speak to you? It shouldn't take too long." I nodded and followed him into the room. "Please, take a seat, Miss Greenwich." He waved towards a leather chair at the side of the clear glass conference table. I fidgeted uncomfortably.
"Amalia." Uh oh. He was referring to me by my first name…this couldn't be good. "I understand you had a little mishap today in the halls? Please explain yourself."
I gulped, turning red. "Well, um…you see…uh…I was looking at something, and I didn't see her coming…and then I bumped into her…but I folded everything back up! Nothing's wrinkled! Everything's fine now!" I protested, seeing his face hardening by the second.
"Amalia…this can't keep happening. You are frequently having incidents similar to this one. I get the feeling you just aren't putting your all into this position." He paused. "I'm afraid I'm just going to have t—"
I cut him off. I couldn't help it. "No! Please, sir! I'm sorry! Please! Just give me another chance…I'll do everything right! I promise! Please." I pleaded.
"Amalia! How many chances have I given you? I am I going to have to keep giving you chances? You cannot keep this up!" Butler stood up. "Fine. One more chance. But this is your last. Ruin this one, and there are no more following it. It'll be the boot for you." I jumped up.
"THANK YOU!! THANK YOU, THANK YOU, THANK YOU!" I shook his hand feverishly.
Butler laughed. Never such a girl had he seen before. "Alright, alright. Now get to work. You have a lot to accomplish before the day is over." I walked, no, skipped practically, out of his office. I was just happy to be still employed. As much as I hated cleaning, I almost liked my workdays. The fellow maids made it more enjoyable. And there was the pay. That was a definite bonus.
I thought to myself. That was a close call. Might be best to avoid laundry baskets for awhile. I chuckled and busied myself changing the pillow cases of the bedrooms.
!i!i!i!i!i!i
Well, that was chapter 17, people!! Hope you liked it. I am taking Dranius's advice and doing the chapters Amalia's PoV, Arty's, Amalia's, Arty's, etc. It'll be a nice change.
THANK YOU DRANIUS!!!
Now—REVIEW PEOPLE! YOU ALL KNOW THE DRILL. I'm going for 50 now.
UNTIL I GET THE 50TH REVIEW…NO CHAPPIE 17!! Buahaha…evil says you? Indeed says I.
Artemis: You really are evil. Without technological sources, either, I must add.
GEEF13: Really? –smirks- We would make an evil crime team. But I get the Mafia.
Artemis: Oh. Well I'm in the story, so therefore I do as I please.
GEEF13: Technically no, because I write what you do. And if I feel like…I could write something naaaaaughtyyy… -wiggles eyebrows-
Artemis: BUTLER
GEEF13: Must go! Tah! –winks at Artemis and runs off-
Artemis: -shudder- Is she always evil to such an extent?
GEEF13's readers/reviewers: Yeah.
Muahaha…REMEMBER THE REVIEW COUNT!! AND AS USUAL—REVIEW, REVIEW, REVIEW!!! You know the drills, dudes and dudettes.
.gReeNeYedeLfguRL13.