A/N: S-O-R-R-Y! I kind of forgot that I had one more chapter to write. When I finally did remember, it took me forever to write it...you know-find that perfect ending. I'm still looking for that, but here's what I came up with instead. Hopefully, I didn't leave any loose strings of the story out there danglin', and if I did, just yell at me in a review and I will create you a "special Chapter."Sounds exciting!Earlier today I was leaving"wonder-reviews"(full of extra support with a bonus..ahem..yeah...hopefully you've caught on already.)and now I'm promising"special chapters" for "special people."

Chapter 10

Explanations and Endings

Artemis Fowl the Second was once again arriving at his own home in a cab, something he hoped he would never have to do again. It made him feel so...common, and Artemis told himself, he was anything but common.

However this means of transportation could not be helped. He had had to take a public flight, yes, that's right, a flight open for ordinary people, back from London to Ireland. From the Dublin airport, he had called a cab and now he was walking up the steps to the front entrance of Fowl Manor.

He paused in front of the door, thinking of the day's events. His body guard and close friend had traded some incriminating DVDs for the Irish youth's freedom from the Russian Mafiya leader, Britva. After this trade, Artemis' brain had the familiar spark of a idea to ensure Britva would never bother the boy again.

That idea happened to be the reason Butler was currently absent from Artemis' side. The Eurasian man was out leaving the Mafiya leader along with those very incriminating DVDs in the famous French Cathedral of Notre Dame. Interpol was sure to find them as they had mysteriously received an anonymous tip that the Mafiya leader would be taking a nap in the back pew of the cathedral in Paris along with evidence.

But perhaps the genius of the plan needs to be further described. Once Artemis was back in Butler's custody, he had begun to search through Butler's supplies for two laptops with video feeds, a capsule of sleeping gas with a detonator, and a gas mask. One computer would be in Artemis' possession, while the other placed in easy eyesight of a Mafiya leader searching for one.

The boy genius also needed to find someone capable of sneaking through a busy London airport, slipping into a plane unnoticed, placing the above-mentioned laptop in the jet, knocking out an arriving Russian body guard playing pilot with a quick jab to the spinal column, and most of all, Artemis needed a man able to fly the Fowl's personal jet. Luckily, Butler fit this description perfectly. So, after doing all of the afore-mentioned activities, Butler started up the jet and waited to hear Artemis say, "You just got burned," over the computer video connection, then the manservant waited five seconds, slipped on the gas mask, and finally threw the capsule of sleeping gas into the plane compartment, detonating it once it settled on the ground. Though the Eurasian man thought Artemis' theatrics were a little much, he respected the boy's way of revenge as a good alternative to murder. Butler defiantly didn't want Artemis to become the next Jon Spiro.

After Britva was slumbering peacefully, Butler piloted the jet to France, left the snoozing Mafiya leader in the back pew of a building nearly always open to the public, sent Interpol a nice tip, and made sure the DVDs were in plain sight for the International police force. Interpol now had everything in their possession to try and convict Britva of this crime (and probably a few more later on if Artemis had any say in it). No lawyer would stake their reputation in order to defend Britva, not with so much evidence against him. Artemis had ensured Britva would stay out of his life from then on.

Artemis took a deep breathe, his shoulders finally relaxing from stress. It had been quite a day, and now he must face his parents and explain to them the reason the Russian Mafiya would be after him. Okay, his father already knew somehow, but how was the boy genius going to tell a proven-mentally-frail woman that fairies helped him save his father? He wasn't. He would have to lie to his mother.

He debated with himself on whether he should knock on the door or not. It was his house, after all. Yet his sudden entrance into the house could scare his parents. He was saved from his inner debate by his mother throwing open the door and rushing out to envelop him in her arms. He felt tears on his face from her crying.

"Mother. Really! I wasn't in any danger! It was all according to plan." protested Artemis the Second, trying to pull away.

This brought a change in his mother not even the boy genius could have predicted. His mother pulled away from him, her eyes welling up with tears. She looked him straight in his cold blue, emotionless eyes and then pulled back her hand and smacked him across the cheek.

Artemis put a hand to his raw cheek, in complete silence and unable to think of anything to say. His eyes squinted against the oncoming tears until he could hold them back no more. They flowed silently down his face, he would not stoop so low as to sob. His mother pulled him back into her embrace whispering fiercely into his ear, "Don't you ever worry us like that again! That man was here for revenge on you. One of your 'plans' angered him! As such, you will not be making any plans in the near future, even if I have to shackle you to the wall in the basement. You're a danger to yourself and I WILL NOT lose you!"

Artemis nodded into his mother's embrace. She had nearly glued herself to him. When he finally looked up, it was to notice that his father had been standing behind his mother the entire time. Artemis the First took his wife by the arm, leading her away from his son, and taking her upstairs to a waiting sleeping pill and bed.

When he came back down, Artemis Junior was sitting at the bottom of the steps, gazing into space.

"Arty."

"Father."

"Still so formal, son?"

"As I will always be, father."

"Arty, your mother is right, even if she's not entirely correct."

Artemis looked up at his father amused. Someone being right without being correct? He had to hear this one out. The boy genius quickly wiped the tears away from his eyes and dried his cheeks.

The Fowl patriarch sat down on the steps next to his son with a groan and continued his father-to-son speech, "Your plans are dangerous. To others. To yourself. I completely agree with her that and that you should stop plotting and start living, as a normal teenager. This world has a lot to offer you. More than you will ever find in books, or business, or even money. Remember, you need experience to become wise, if that's some motivation for you. Do you understand what I'm trying to say?"

"Yes father," said Artemis with a nod. At that moment, Artemis realized, for perhaps the first time, that he respected his father, deeply and truly. He realized that his father was already wise and was trying to teach his only son how to follow in his footsteps. Before, it had really been a pride thing. Maybe so much as a loyalty issue that had led Artemis to want to find his father. It was like an unwritten rule that a son needed a father and that's what had drove Artemis to risk everything for a man he truly had never respected. Now, his ideals were changing. Respect. Holly had taught him that. The Irish youth shook off the oncoming grief and instead turned so that he could look into his father's eyes fully.

His father continued, "But as to how she is not correct. Your plans have brought good into this world. They saved my life for one and they made you who you are. You're not too bad. Your priorities are a little off, but overall, you still are turning into a fine young man. So, I will end my fatherly speech by saying this: you leave your plans behind you. Grow up. Live life. They will still be there for you if you want them when you're grown. Perhaps your future plans will benefit society rather than just yourself, and then, once you're grown, have experience, maybe a family and son of your own, you can instruct him better than I ever did you and you, in turn, will have become wise. Will you do this for me?"

Artemis hesitated. Turn his life away from crime and...and be a moody, hormonal-driven teenager? A genius would never. But what did Artemis want to be? His father was right. He had enough time to live now and still be able to try something different later in life. If he missed this chance now, he would forever miss his chance to be wise. You can't grow up twice!

A true and honest smile spread onto his facial features, a smile that was mirrored on his father's face. Artemis promised, "I'll try, father."

"That's my Arty!" laughed Artemis Senior while ruffling the pale boy's raven hair. The smile on Artemis Junior's face vanished instantly.

"It's Artemis, father!"

"Yeah, but the name 'Arty' would just stop the girls in their tracks. A cute lad like you. You'd stop them dead," joked the Irish businessman

"You'd know all about that, wouldn't you, Timmy." joked Artemis back, the smile returning.

"Indeed, son. It's that kind of experience you're lacking in especially. Maybe I'll give you a few pointers before your first date."

"Whatever, father," replied Artemis, his joking self dying as efficiently at the word 'date' as if it had been stabbed, shot, ran over by a car, and hit by a train in a matter of seconds. Visions of Holly Short came to mind again. He would never see her again. His life had to go on without her.

And the boy genius was rarely wrong as the house phone ringing interrupted his thoughts and forced him to go on with said life. He picked up the receiver from a nearby table. It was Butler.

"Artemis? Password," asked Butler.

"Domovoi. And your password?" inquired the pale youth, nearly trembling in anticipation. Britva still had Artemis' cell phone when they had parted company and, therefore, had been unable to receive word from Butler. Not that Butler had had time to call him.

Butler responded with his password, or rather, passwords, "The Booke of the People was written in gnommish."

"Excellent, my old friend. How did your adventures fare?" asked Artemis letting out a breathe of air he had miraculously seemed to have held the entire trip home.

Butler reported, "All according to plan...and better."

"How so?" inquired Artemis, raising a slender eyebrow that Butler could not see anyway.

"It seems that the reason I was able to get to the airport ahead of Britva was that he was busy making a hit list. He took down the names of every single guard in those vans that had allowed themselves to be captured, and titled the page 'People I will Kill for Failing me in my Fowl Adventures.' Interpol found it on him," said Butler with something near joy in his voice.

"Oh dear," said Artemis in mock despair, "How dreadful. What is his outlook on the prison scene?"

"In at least 50 years, he won't have seen anything but prison," replied Butler, laughing at his own pun. "Artemis," he continued, "How is everything there?"

"Everything is fine. Though I'm afraid." said the Irish youth, his blue eyes on the floor.

"What are you afraid of?" asked Butler, worry evident in his voice. He believed there to be oncoming ninjas or stampeding elephants scaring the boy.

Artemis found that his father was listening to his side of the conversation, and so picked his word carefully. "I fear," he said, "that my plans have come to an end. Possibly indefinitely ."

Butler sigh with relief. The boy had obviously just been told that he was not allowed to plot anymore. "Perhaps, Master Artemis, but you do not know what the future may hold."

"You're right, Butler," he paused, silent in thought. Finally he said, "Well, come home, my old friend. I expect Interpol will be coming soon to search the premises for clues and question me. I must come up with a believable alibi for those sonix grenades. I'm thinking the last of a prototype weapon that I decided not to patent or make more of. We also need to discard all of our remaining fairy technology. We don't want anything fishy turning up. I'll need you to return it to Tara after we collect it all. We'll leave it in front of the Fairy port Entrance. They'll be sure to find it. Foaly's always watching."

"Yes, sir," said Butler dutifully.

Knowing Artemis Fowl, no ban his parents put him on could prevent him from carrying out his schemes. The future of Artemis Fowl the Second will be one of legends, and Domovoi Butler was proud to have a front row seat. No. The genius of Artemis Fowl the Second could not be contained. The future was guaranteed to be interesting.

The End

Final A/N: Maybe this ending is a little bit happier than my last fanfic. More hopeful. Speaking, or in my case, writing of hopeful, I'm real hopeful that you'll review this final chapter at least. I finally realized that I had opted to only accept verified reviews, so I've fixed it so that even those people not logged in to ffnet can drop a line in the review box on their way out. Which, by the way, I wanted to ask, 'How's my grammar?' I try to proofread my stories, but if my grammar's still terrible, give a hollah and I'll doubly check over it in future stories. If you're reviewing, you might even want to included a line if you think I should write another story. I have an idea about a story of Artemis meeting his future wife. Not exactly sure yet if that is the direction I want to go. Anyway, catch ya around ffnet.

Thanks for reading.