Disclaimer: Lost Scary Marvel Obsession, thankfully. Though the new movie doesn't look that bad. Do not own squat, so do not press charges.

Yes, the fairies will enter. Later. Somehow. But they will.

Artemis Fowl Senior's behaviour, while OOC, had to be done for the plot.

Thanks to reviewers.

Short chapter, more frequent updates.

The italics in Stefan's head are, despite the universe, not a foreign presence or a telepath. Just his thinking.

Chapter One: And Now For Something Completely Random

"Thai!"

"Chinese!"

"How long have they been like this?"

"Half an hour, Eric."

"Thai!"

"Chinese!"

"Chinese!"

"Tha - TOAD!"

Such was the position in which Stefan later found Toad and Sabertooth.

He turned, perplexed, to Magneto and Mystique - the latter was resting her head in her hands, while the former just looked exasperated.

"They're arguing over what to order for dinner," was the explanation.

Stefan was momentarily taken aback. "Takeout?"

"Of course," Magneto said impatiently. "Surely you didn't expect us to live on grilled cheese sandwiches?"

"No," Stefan said, a trifle testily. He did not like slights on his intelligence, accidental or not. "I was simply wondering how a delivery man is expected to deliver...here," he finished, a little lamely.

That and it strikes me as somewhat hypocritical that we order dinner from a human delivery service, when you preach that we mutants should fend for ourselves rather than accept aid from mankind.

Either get takeout or starve, he amended. Wisely so. I suppose this sort of thing doesn't hurt.

"So," he said with forced cheerfulness, "Thai or Chinese?"

"Japanese. Sushi." This came from Mystique. She looked far from happy.

Magneto looked a little sickened. "Raw fish, Mystique."

"Think of it as creative differences."

"What did you want?" Stefan asked Magneto quickly, unable to prevent the feeling of foreboding growing in his gut.

"French," Magneto said promptly.

Stefan looked as crestfallen as a nine-year-old evil genius could. "I wanted Italian."

Silence. They watched Toad and Sabertooth duke it out in a violent flurry of fists, fur and tongue; ducking as one when a gob of Toad's slime flew at them.

Mystique gingerly felt the top of her head and groaned when she felt a thin trail of slime. "I think we'll call out for pizza."

Some time after the order for pizza had been placed, it was decided that Stefan and Toad would collect it from the dock.

Needless to say, the two were Not Happy.

"It's cold," groused Toad in the lobby. Toad had wrapped himself in as much warm clothing as he could find. Too many puffy bomber jackets and one too many scarves had its effect - the moment Mystique had seen him, she had fallen out of her chair laughing. She was currently lying on her bed with an icepack held to her forehead.

"Obviously," said Stefan, pulling on a scarf, woollen sweater and thick gloves. "Quit complaining. Let's go."

They set off for the docks, which, despite being wooden, had miraculously survived year upon year of bad weather, thrashing lunatics and the Brotherhood. Toad kept up a muttered string of complaints as they went, which annoyed Stefan to no end.

"Toad," he snapped eventually, whirling around. "Just - shut up, all right?"

Silence.

Toad blinked owlishly. "You said shut up."

"Yes, I did," muttered Stefan, who was now beginning to wish he hadn't, and trudged determinedly on through the snow. Toad followed after at a quicker pace, grinning a bit.

"We've corrupted you," he said delightedly.

"I was always corrupted." Stefan changed tack before Toad could respond. "How long did they say they'd take?"

"An hour," Toad said promptly. "Considering where we live, it'll take two if they use a speedboat. Maybe less."

"Wonderful," grumbled Stefan. "An hour and a half in the snow."

"Magneto said something about survival and terrain or whatnot," Toad said vaguely. "I think maybe he was talking about you."

"Really? I'm flattered," Stefan said sarcastically, hating the words survival training. He shuddered. Physical activity did not suit him at all.

They reached the docks without further incident. The pizza boy - man, in this case - had beaten them to it.

He stood up from where he was sitting on a tree stump, and came over to them, his lip twitching at the sight of Toad's attire.

Stefan watched him warily. Toad blinked. "How'd you get here so fast? We weren't expecting you for another hour."

The man looked a little shifty. "I'm a good runner," he said easily, and passed them a warm cardboard box. "Here."

Stefan looked around at the sea. "Where's your boat?"

He got no reply.

Stefan frowned and took the pizza, while Toad extracted his wallet from beneath layers of clothes - the man's lip twitched - and passed a sheaf of notes to the pizza man. While the man fumbled for change, Stefan took the opportunity to study him. The delivery uniform looked ridiculous on him, but then it would look ridiculous on anyone. Pinned haphazardly to his shirt was a nametag that read Pietro.

He handed Toad his change and tipped his cap jauntily to both of them - Stefan thought he caught a flash of silver, but it was too dark to tell - before walking away and disappearing into the fog.

Both Stefan and Toad stared after him. Stefan broke the silence first. "Have we met him before?"

Toad shook his head, frowning. "Don't think so. He seems … familiar … though."

"Hmm," Stefan said vaguely. "We should go back."

He left, pizza in hand, Toad hurrying along in his wake.

Somehow not the same as the previous chapter. My writing's gone weird on me.

Random plot device? Joy and rapture. Apologies for OoCness.

Non-constructive flames will be used to heat my tea.

Next chapter depends on how soon I get the next idea.

Reviews and constructive flames accepted, as are suggestions.

Suggestions are good.

- E.E.