Hey guys, it decided to incorporate Juliet a bit more into my story. If you don't like it, just tell me, I can dull it down. By the way, Roa is pronounced like Row. Anyway, have fun! I hope you enjoy.

Disclaimer: Colfer owns his own Shitaki mushrooms. McDonalds will sue me if they found out I was using them. Please don't tell! Anyway all rights allowed to the French fry fiends! Power to the potatoes! Shakespeare owns himself and his pairing…although he did not patent the names. And the Mafia is…well the Mafia. I mean, they own Dairyland for crying out loud! They definitely own themselves. HeHe. Hang tight, the plot is about to become a lot thicker. (((Grins evilly. Muahaha!))) Also Robert Deniro seems to be the property of the Focker family, but you would have to ask him. Ok, w/e. Here you go, the much awaited (((Soooo, soooo, sooooo sorry about that!)))…..

Chapter four.

Shakespeare, wheelchairs and fingernails on a cranium

Juliet didn't even bother going to breakfast. She sat on the stairs, inside the manor gates, sulking. She hadn't particularly enjoyed her date with Drake; he had acted patronizing and superior. Still, did Dom seriously have to come down, holding his gun and screaming? It was a bit of overkill, in her opinion. Her boy-toys did not have to meet her family. Period. Now…if she could find someone serious, who wasn't afraid of violence, she wouldn't mind introducing him to Artemis or Dom. Juliet sighed.

As if on queue, a boy came trotting through the gates.

"Can I help you?" Juliet asked. The rest of the household would be at breakfast, therefore she was the only one to assist this guy. He was unremarkable. Short brown hair, brown eyes, blue jeans and a simple, black, long-sleeved shirt. He looked to be about nineteen, same age as Juliet. It's a mere coincidence, she thought. There was nothing remarkable at all about the guy. Plus he seriously wasn't her type. She was into sweet-talking skater-boys with gelled hair. The kind who she could fool. Preferably more then one at a time.

"I have a message for Artemis Fowl II. Is he here?" Well, at least he got to the point fast enough. That was something the Butlers couldn't stand; beating around the bush.

"Yes," She replied cautiously. There was something strange about his eyes. "He is eating breakfast though."

"Oh well, that's fine. I can wait." He plopped himself down beside her on the stairs. "I'm Roa, what do they call you?" She smiled, he seemed friendly.

"Jules," He frowned.

"What's it short for?" Roa asked. It was her turn to frown.

"Juliet… why?" She said slowly. This was weird.

"Oh god." He laughed. "My full name is Roméo." He started laughing hard, Juliet did too.

"Very weird. Who sent you here, if you don't mind me asking." On second glance, he wasn't so hard on the eyes. A semi-Spanish descent gave him a rather tanned look. His eyes' were also more Hazel, instead of the brown she had first labeled them as.

"Errr…" He smiled sheepishly. "The corporate heads of McDonalds. They hired me. I'm a high-risk messenger, I work for everybody though, not just them. But they have a query for Mr. Fowl, so I get to deliver it." He rolled his eyes. "Oh, well. It's a living, and I prefer this job to selling insurance in a cubical somewhere." He stared off into the distance.

"Oh I get it, you're like, a message-bearing-mercenary. They pay you to do something but it's a part-time contract, you owe the company no loyalty. Cool. Do you get to see much action? Or are most of your deliveries pretty tame?" She was interested in his job. She was also interested in him, but that could come later.

"Well, it depends who I'm working for. I'll do anyone. I even collaborated with the Mafia at one point." He froze. "Why the hell am I telling you this? Holly shit, you won't tell anyone, will you?" He pleaded with her. Juliet smiled.

"My lips are sealed. But you owe me." There was a glint in her eyes.

"What would you like? I'll give you whatever is in my power." He sounded scared. Of course, he had mentioned the Mafia. If word got out that he had mob connections, he could be arrested.

"What do you think I am? An ass-hole? I won't tell anybody. Just give me your number." Roa raised an eyebrow at her. Juliet just grinned. "For two reasons, you dork." She teased. "Master Fowl might come in need of the services you offer one day. Plus," Her eyes glinted again. "I'm in the market for a new boyfriend. One who won't run away screaming when my brother threatens to kill him."

"Did you just…?"

"Maybe." She started up the stairs, grinning. "You coming? Or are you going to sit there all day with your mouth hanging open." He slapped it shut and followed her into the mansion. Unlike almost everybody else, Roa seemed not the least bit perturbed by the dreary décor. Juliet was impressed. Although if he could stop staring at her it would deepen the impression.

"What! Do I have something on my face?" She finally exclaimed.

"No. You're beautiful. I'm just trying to figure out how to take you up on that offer." The compliment made her blush.

"Done. Wait for me after you're done with Arty. We can swap phone numbers and grab a pizza or something." She opened the dining room door, made sure Artemis was inside, and ushered Roméo into the room. Closing the doors behind him, she trotted upstairs to put a fresh coat on her nails then do some boxing exercises while they dried.

"Mwister Roolius Joot! Rulius Joot! Cwan I wask ywou a qwuestion?" A small dwarf child waddled up to Commander Root and Captain Short. They were shoving their way through the busy Haven plaza.

"Stupid Centaur. He didn't have to handle this trash." Root pushed the dwarf out of the way.

"Actually, Julius, if anyone is stupid here, its you. I'm the one who came in before the lunch hour rush." They could almost hear Foaly smirking through their headsets.

"Whatever, let's just go." Holly skipped through the crowd with the grace of an elf.

"And don't call me Julius!" Root growled, barreling after his captain.

They finally arrived at Foaly's tech room after being stalled by a mob trying to get into the cafeteria. The doors gave a pneumonic hiss as they opened automatically. They seated themselves in two padded chairs across from Foaly. Holly absentmindedly started spinning around in hers.

"Captain…" Root said testily. He was not in a good mood. When is he ever in a good mood? Holly thought and inwardly rolled her eyes. Outwardly she was the picture of an attentive captain.

"Ok," Foaly started. "So first of all, whose idea was it to actually agree to go to Artemis when he asked? We cannot be his scapegoat, don't you guys understand? He needs to learn to handle things on his own! If he calls us every time a problem arises, well, what can I say … we will waist precious funds …"

"Shut up Foaly. You know why we're doing this. He has numerous copies of the book and can easily expose us to the Mud Men. Now give us the plan and hand over the weapons. We want to be there by dusk." The centaur rolled his eyes, muttered something about how 'they never listen to the genius...' and proceeded to show them a blueprint of Fowl Manor.

"If they're really is a situation, as he says. You shall reside in the manor for two days. This, consequentially, means that you will remain helpless in the hands of Fowl during the day. To minimize any possible peril you could be found in at his hands, I am going to equip you both with several weapons. I have designed a new model for the buzz-baton. It has a larger shock rate and of course doesn't leave a trace. Buzz-Buddy also has a wider range of…" Everyone spaced out. Root took a pen out of his pocket and started clicking it open and closed. Holly simply started counting the ceiling tiles. She was at two hundred and forty-two when Foaly cleared his throat. Loudly. Both the LEP officers' heads shot up.

"You can start listening again. I honestly don't understand why I even bother. Nobody appreciates me at all." Root started clicking the pen again, his face growing slightly tomato-colored.

"OK, OK! Now I'll keep a constant communication line open, which means that I can't go to bed while your out in the field. Are you happy?" He sulked for a few seconds. Root growled. "Here, two prototype guns. The Neutrino3000 and a new laser gun called Burn-Beam56. It attaches like a lens onto your helmet visor and when you push a button on the wristband, you can control it. You aim through the lens in your helmet, giving you optimum control. In fact, to a Mud Man, it would look like you were shooting laser beams out of your eyes!" The centaur laughed, remembering the super heroes that he had watched on Mud Man TV. They had been his inspiration.

Suddenly Foaly whinnied in pain. He flung himself off his chair and rolled on the ground. His agonized moans were muffled because his arms were wrapped around his head. The two officers hopped to their feet and tried to figure out what was happening. Holly was beside Foaly in a flash, whipping off his tin-foil hat and trying to see where the pain was coming from. Root was assessing the situation and calling for the warlocks. Despite his normal attitude towards the centaur, Julius really did respect him as a friend. It would be awful to loose him, especially before the Artemis Fowl II mission II, which Foaly had been rather excited about. What was happening now? Why was Foaly clutching in agony at his head? Was this from Artemis?

Little did they know, Beelzebub was crouching beside the centaur, his hand inside of his head. He raked his long fingernails across the fairy's skull, irritated his brain cells and caused his cranium to swell faster than normally possible. It was the demons delight to cause so much pain to a mortal creature, he had not done so in centuries. Beelzebub plucked a sliver of red residue from his pocket and inserted it into Foaly's cerebellum. The first stage of his mission complete, he popped back out of the room, leaving an unconscious centaur and two frightened officers in his wake.

The cause for Artemis's great change was mostly due to Dr. O'Brian, or, more commonly called, Lynn. Butler drove Artemis to her office every Monday in the Bentley, and then bought a coffee at the café next door. He had installed an impressive security system in the building so that he could enjoy the hour off. Artemis agreed that the bodyguard should not be made too wait outside the door while he spoke with his shrink. This week however, Meg would be going with Butler, she had decided to attempt to drink a soda, just to see if she could consume food.

Artemis was silent during the entire half-hour car ride. It was not hard to guess what he was thinking about. The corporate messenger from McDonalds had informed him that they had a copy of The Book. But not only The Book, but also half of the translated version along with the name 'A. Fowl'. For a reason only Artemis knew, the fast food company was deadly interested in the fairy bible. Of course it was all going according to plan. The McDonalds scheme was the Situation the young mastermind had created as the reason why he needed the fairies. (a/n yea this will be a little like The Eternity Code, but only a little. It will totally different in other ways.)

The black car pulled into the psychiatric building's parking lot. The three occupants emerged into the sweltering summer heat. The oil on the concrete was steaming and it gave off a noxious smell. Meg felt a migraine coming on from the toxic fumes as she rushed to follow Butler as he led Artemis into his appointment. Once the boy was secure they left the building and entered the Buzzing Bean, Butlers Monday afternoon caffeine buzz bar.

"Good afternoon, Artemis." His shrink sat in her wheelchair. Her jet-black hair was tied up in the usual braid down her back, her black suit only complimented by a silver and gold bracelet and ruby earrings. Like Artemis, Lynne was pale. She spent a good deal of her time researching her patients' backgrounds and receiving insider-information on their personal lives. (a/n all those who have seen 'I love Huckabees' will understand what I'm talking about. I'll describe it at the end of the chapie.) As well as that, Lynn, also not unlike Artemis, wheedled money from unsuspecting rich clients.

"Good afternoon, Dr. O'Brian. Did you draw any schemes to a crescendo this weekend?" He usually addressed her about business first. It was one thing they could both relate too.

"I withdrew $1,000 extra from the bank account of a Sir Austin McCaugney. How about you, do anything illegal this weekend?" She adjusted her position in her seat.

"Well, I received a calculated blackmail message from the corporate heads of McDonalds." He said pleasantly, not giving any details.

"Really? Tell me about it." She looked at him and half-smiled. They were on practically the same intelligence level. The senior having only a few I.Q points less.

"Oh well, nothing special." No matter how much he preferred Dr. O'Brian's company to that of other, less intelligent Psychiatrists, he would never reveal the identity of the lower elements to her.

"I highly doubt that, Artemis. Everything you choose to do is special. Otherwise you wouldn't bother with it in the first place." Now her half-smile turned into a full-fledged smirk; eyebrows lilting and amusement tugging at the corners of her mouth.

"Stop trying to prove that you're worth your paycheck. At three hundred dollars an hour, you'd have to teach me how to fly to make an impression." He smirked too, eyes dancing in amusement.

"So," She understood that he did not wish to share. "Who was that girl outside, with Butler? A new girlfriend?" She pressed her fingertips into a steeple.

Artemis blushed. "Zoë was hardly my girlfriend. I accompanied her to one movie before she broke it off. And it wasn't a particularly good movie anyway."

"So who was the girl in the jacket?" She raised an eyebrow past her bangs. It looked almost comical.

"Her name is Meg." Artemis had, of course, already thought of a new identity for Meg. "Her parents died last spring and she was a distant relative to Butlers, so she was placed in our care." He rolled his eyes. "No, we are not going out." His hands were flat and white against his tailor-made shorts. He didn't seem to notice, but the shrink did.

"I see." She rapped her fingers along the left tire of her wheelchair. "Well, do you plan on going out with her? You could use somebody to attach yourself emotionally to, Artemis. You need to face your fears sometime, dependency is not always a bad thing." Artemis allowed her to finish before replying.

"I have only just met Meg and suddenly everybody is telling me why we should go out. I think I can make my own choices, which, at least, I believe that I have proven myself capable of doing." He was growing impatient. She was his psychiatrist, he usually trusted her. The fairies were getting in the way of their repertoire, but no matter. He would tell her the truth about Meg when the Lower Elements Mission was complete. Now all he needed was a decoy.

"All right Artemis, like you said, my fee is too high to spend the hour arguing. Anything you do wish to tell me?"

"Yes," He had chosen his subject in the car, anticipating his emotions. He explained to her what he was doing with his school marks.

"But, it being the summertime, wouldn't you have already gotten your report card?" Artemis had been transferred from St. Bartlebys to Patricia Maries academy for boys and girls. His mother had been worried that he was not around females often enough.

"No, my school runs on a different basis. The teachers are given the entire summer to compile the report cards, which they find reduces the stress and raises the levels of accuracy in the grading."

"Except in your case." She smiled.

"Except in my case, yes. In my case I have a higher I.Q. level than everyone else in the school, including faculty, so I hardly bother with the institution. I prefer to focus on schemes and such. Therefore, I tamper with my grades in Cooking, which I have never been good at, and Gym, which, as you can see, I am in no state to excel in." He looked down at his milk-colored, skinny body, grateful that he had his bodyguard to protect him. If anybody threatened him, he would be no good on his own. He did not like feeling needy. Lynn did not press the matter.

"But if they create the report cards during the summer, then there is nobody teaching summer school for the children who failed classes." She already knew the answer, but she wanted Artemis to feel smart. It was what he did best, after all.

"You already know that they wouldn't let in students who fail in any subject. Even if it is co. ed., Patricia Marie is still a prestigious school. Stop trying to make me feel at home."

"All right, Artemis." She wheeled her chair over to the oak cabinet behind her desk. It was the fact that she was physically disabled, and yet still he respected her, that had caused Artemis Fowl to accept other people for their differences. It was all subconscious, of course. He would never admit it if he realized it himself.

"If you can find the time, Mr. Mastermind, I'd like you to keep a journal of your actions during the summer. Elementary, I know. But sometimes the most basic activities can help." She handed a leather-bound diary to Aretemis; he slid it into his pocket.

"We shall see. I will write in it if I find the time. I assume you will want it back in September?"

"Yes, if you would. But today, I think our time is up. So you don't have to avoiding my questions for another week." He got up. "And Artemis?" The boy turned around before opening the door. "I would take up running, if I were you. It gets you into shape quite fast and is handy when you need to get out of tight situations." She smiled sadly. If it were any other person Artemis would have made a snide remark and left. But in front of Dr. O'Brian, who could not walk, let alone run, he simply agreed and left the room feeling sullen.

Lowrie sat at his rosewood desk, in front of his plasma-screen laptop, reading an e-mail from Robert Deniro and moped. He was not enjoying his life in the spotlight. The curtains had to be drawn across the windows all the time; reporters lingered wherever he went. Grandmothers had the hot's for him and grandfathers wanted to be like him. He was the senior model for twelve different clothing companies and had a spot on prime-time television along-side his wife, Sissy Ward-McCall. He lived in a huge mansion full of staff that never left him alone. Everyone wanted something from him; whether it was cash, kisses or new, catchy, completely cliché catch phrases. He sighed.

Cicily walked into the study.

"Troubled dear?" She noticed his glazed expression as she bent down to kiss him.

"I need a break." She looked up at her, eyes wide.

"A vacation? I suppose one is in order, since we finished taping the season … but we just had our honeymoon. Do we really need to take another one right now? Especially since the last time the beach was filled with people trying to get shots of us smooching." She laughed.

"Why anyone wants to see moldy-oldie action beats me." Lowrie sighed again. "But I don't mean a vacation, dearest. I need a break from show biz. This pace is going to put me in an early grave. I don't think I can do the next season." He frowned, suddenly he felt immensely tired.

"A break?" She squeaked. Sissy loved the fast pace, the glitz and the glamour. It was in her nature. "But Lolo, can't we tape one more season? We can retire later, but its so much fun! Don't you like it when people recognize you on the street?" She got a glint in her eye.

"I don't mind, but I'm getting tired, and my transplant is feeling funny." It was a lie, his heart transplant was fine, but he selfishly wanted her to feel sorry for him.

"Oh, well then. I suppose you can retire, but would you mind too terribly if I taped another season?" She waited for his answer.

"That's fine." He turned back to his notebook, slightly relieved. She left the room and he went back to checking his e-mail. Suddenly he gasped.

And e-mail from Meg. It sounded like Meg, every word of it, too. He read it three times just to be sure he wasn't hallucinating.

Hey, geezer. I heard you made it big, hey? Married kissy sissy and everything! Well, I'm in the area and I thought to look you up. What was I thinking? Huge sensations like you … spending time with a teenage spirit? Hah! I'd rather die again! But just to catch up, since you had so much fun doing that with Ball, if you can fit it into your busy schedule to come to Barrie's diner, on Carrie avenue and Twelfth street tomorrow, I'll be there.

Okay, see you, Mr. Hotshot.

Meg Finn

p.s. Did you hear what happened to Franco!

He almost fainted. Meg Finn had saved his life, and was the closest thing he had to a friend since Ball died. Unfortunately, Meg Finn was dead too. If this was some sort of a cruel trick, and there was nobody at the diner when he arrived, he would be mad. But what if it really was Meg? How could she be in the area? It was all too much for Lowrie, who decided to hit the hay early and retired to his bedroom.

Ockely dockely. Well, it wasn't as long as I had wanted, but I figure I might as well split up the story a bit, instead of cramming it all into one chapter. lol. Tell me what you think! Which plot lines do you like the most? What do you think I should fix! I need more Con. Crit.! It's awesome! Ask me questions, ask me to review your stories, anything! I'm sooooooo hyper! I love this! Whoooo! Well, sorry for the delay in writing this chapter, I just got back from camping today, plus I have to train my dog and I have all the other stories to update. Still, reviewing will make me want to write faster!

Oh, and I totally wasn't being too harsh on Jenny, her friend Kitty reviewed too and both of the reviews scare me, but they are sooo funny. How stupid can some people be? I read their profiles and its weird. Sorry, I'm rambling.

I -heart- Huckabees: These two scary people stalk their patients and try to find out WAY too much personal info. It's hilarious. Anyway, Lynn just puts agents tracking people (not arty of course, butler wouldn't allow it).

Ok, push the little bluish button down there! Look I made an arrow!

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