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Chapter 1: Most Unprofessional

Holly Short was having a dream.

She sometimes thought about how she would prefer, just once, to dream about something pleasant. Like flying high above the treetops of a beautiful landscape aboveground, some place the Mud Men hadn't trampled over yet. Or perhaps about her mother singing her to sleep as she always used to back when Holly was still breaking in her first set of trainers. Or even about listening to Foaly go on about some new gadget he had developed.

Of course, she had no such luck. Instead of breathtaking vistas or mothers or the latest Neutrino model, Holly was standing in front of a very familiar-looking desk in a room permeated with clouds of noxious fungus cigar smoke, getting reamed by a stout fairy whose complexion roughly resembled that of an eggplant.

"As if going back in time wasn't enough—and let me tell you, for an offense like that, losing your job is the least of your worries, considering that time travel is a felony that can land you in a high security cell in the Atlantis penitentiary for the next three hundred years—"

Even though she knew it was dangerous to do so, when Commander Root took a breath mid-rail, Holly put in, "Actually, most of Atlantis has been evacuated for rebuilding, sir."

The commander blinked, then roared, "Do I look like I care, Captain? The LEP exists to keep fairies from breaking the law, and here we have you making scrap of one of the biggest laws in the Book. Listen, do you have any idea what the possible repercussions of time travel are, Short? Do you?"

"I think so, sir," replied Holly, deciding not to go into the whole it's-impossible-to-change-the-past theory.

The commander glared at her for a long minute, then suddenly coughed, his face reddening with something other than anger for once. "But somehow it gets even worse," he muttered, rubbing his forehead.

His voice quickly shot back up to its usual level as, in a tone of thinly veiled disgust, he went on, "I'm disappointed, Short. I really am. Such unprofessional behavior—I knew from the start promoting a girlie to the rank of captain was a bad idea, but I can say even I never guessed the depths the female mind could sink to."

"I—I don't know what you mean, sir," stammered Holly, horror temporarily overshadowing her irritation at the girl captain dig. Somehow she knew precisely what he was driving at.

"Don't interrupt me!" shouted Root. "And I think you know perfectly well what I mean. How you always manage to do these things to me, Short, I have no idea. Now, I just want a plain, simple answer. Did you, or did you not, have a—erm, moment—"

He broke off, practically choking on the word. Then he continued with renewed thunder, "Yes, a moment, Captain Short. A moment involving a certain mud-worm, who also happens to be former public enemy number one."

"Moment? That...That's awfully vague, Commander," Holly said, mortification in every syllable. "Where in Frond's name would you get such a ridiculous... What are you talking about? Sir."

"Oh, you know," Root said, voice dangerously low. He leaned forward on his elbows, eyes narrowed. "I think you know exactly. I'm talking about inappropriate conduct while on duty. Inadvisable, disturbing acts of blatant contempt for fairy law and culture." The commander stopped himself, apparently noticing that he was veering off track. As if Holly had been blabbering, he abruptly ordered, "But never mind, just shut up and answer the question. I don't want to hear any excuses. No qualifications, no whining, nothing—a simple yes or no will do. And, before you start, I'm going to play nice and let you in on something: my informant has promised to send pictures as evidence, so don't even think of lying to me."

Holly resisted the urge to wince painfully at that. Picture evidence? How in the world—

But Holly was distracted from her thoughts as she suddenly noticed something odd on the commander's chest. A little metal box of some kind. Before she had even fully registered it was there, she saw bright red numbers begin to count rapidly downward.

For a second, Holly was frozen, too stunned to act. Then her hand half flinched in the direction of the bomb, and her paralyzed legs took her a single staggering step forward just as a shout formed in her mouth. "Comman— "

"Too late," interrupted a sing-song voice from behind her, and indeed, it was too late. A bright flower of flame exploded outward, completely consuming Commander Julius Root in an instant. For a moment the blaze rose high, engulfing the walls of the office as Holly stood at the center of an inferno. Then the flames retreated and died away, leaving in their wake cabinets and wallpaper charred black as coal, plunging the room into shadow.

Holly turned slowly to gaze through the darkness into the face of Opal Koboi, with her long, glistening black hair and red bow lips. The girl's normally attractive features were twisted in delight, and her cold cruel eyes seemed to glow with savage glee. Her formerly small frame loomed high in the small fairy office. As a pixie, Opal had once been among the shortest of fairies, but now, thanks to the human pituitary gland implanted in her skull, she was as tall as any Mud Girl on the verge of entering adolescence: a veritable giant next to Holly.

"Dead," said Opal, with a bit of a giggle. "Oh, I'm sorry. Does that upset you, Captain Holly Short?"

Holly's hand flew to the gun at her hip, but then Opal's features suddenly shifted like water. Where she had been a moment before now stood a boy, about ten to twelve years of age or thereabouts. He was dressed in an expensive, neatly-pressed suit, his black hair combed back from a wide forehead, and his skin as pale as that of a corpse. Cold, piercing blue eyes met Holly's.

"Now, I would like to discuss my payment," said Artemis Fowl.

"Payment?" Holly blinked, momentarily disoriented.

"Yes," said the boy, nodding. He held up what appeared to be a thin black leather case by its handle for her to see.

"Within this briefcase," he began, "I hold the means to bring both your reputation and career to utter ruin. However, I would be more than happy to not only destroy these materials, but also send a little tip to reassure the good commander that the earlier information he received was a hoax, and then provide satisfactory evidence of such. Now, for this kind of service I would normally ask for one metric ton of pure gold ingots, but in your case I am willing to settle with only half of that."

"You were the one who told—but that's blackmail!" objected Holly. "I thought we were friends."

"'Blackmail' is such an unpleasant term," the boy said mildly. "I prefer to think of it as you and I working out a deal for mutual benefit. And we are indeed friends—I lowered my demands for you, didn't I? But you cannot expect me to pass up every opportunity for profit that comes my way, out of some misplaced sense of honor." He said the last word with a slight curl to his lip. "Simply be grateful that I am not selling you to Damon Kronski again. Now, your career for the next five hundred years is on the line here, Captain. That is worth anything I ask for, wouldn't you agree?"

"Mutual bene... You really don't know the meaning of the word friendship," Holly said incredulously. "Even with that big vocabulary. If you honestly think I'll give in to something like this, you're deluded."

The child criminal sighed dramatically. "Then you leave me with no option." He reached for the clamps on the case. "Oh, Commander Root," he began, his tone almost cheerful. "I have something for you. I believe you may find some of these jungle habitat photos rather intriguing."

"What?" said Commander Root, alive and well once more, chewing vigorously on his fungus cigar.

Holly stepped sideways, trying to block Artemis's path. But the boy, uncharacteristically nimble, weaved around her.

"Last chance," he called as he set the case on the desk with an ominous clunk.

In desperation, Holly spun and fixed Root with a pleading expression. "It's a lie, Commander," she blurted. "It's fake. I mean, okay, I was an adolescent for a while and you know how teenagers are, raging emotions and hormones and all—but he's lying. And really, the whole situation was completely out of my control. Commander, believe me, it's not what you think..."

...O

"Holly. Hooolly. Hey, you awake?"

Holly jerked slightly, then opened her eyes. She immediately registered the feel of the cheap brown-gray couches of the LEP break lounge against her back, and took in two familiar faces, hovering over her like she was a fascinating lab specimen. One hand to her head, she forced herself to sit up.

"Oh, it's you two," she grumbled.

"Finally!" Foaly cried with mock enthusiasm, then smirked behind his hand. "Now then, that must have been some dream. So tell us. What's this that you wanted the commander to know didn't happen? Some deep, dark secret buried in your past from when you were a simple, innocent adolescent?"

Trouble, too, gave her a sideways look, one eyebrow quirked.

Holly fought the urge to groan and lay back down. The penchant for prattling in one's sleep could be considered a liability for an LEP officer, especially those entrusted with sensitive information. Normally it had always been Foaly in danger of getting the dressing down on that count, but she supposed her wandering mind had been a bit restless lately. Fortunately, this time it seemed whatever she might have said had been completely misinterpreted.

Commander.

A momentary wave of melancholy stole through Holly as she remembered that Commander Root was gone. Even after all this time, the pain of loss and regret was at times as sharp in her gut as a fresh wound. However, she quickly composed herself, shaking her head to try to rid her mind of the last remnants of the emotions left over from the moronic dream.

"What time is it?" she asked.

Without bothering to actually check, golden eyes glinting mischievously, the centaur answered, "Late. Almost everyone's gone back to their poor, lonely apartments now." He swept a furry hand around the empty break room. "You, my dear, were out like the dead. The commander and I were starting to think we'd have to get a cup of cold coffee...I made those suits liquid-resistant for more than one reason, you know." He gave Holly a wink.

Trouble shot Foaly a withering look. "You were thinking of getting a cup of cold coffee. Don't lump me in with you, centaur."

Holly didn't care for this line of thought, and she would have come in with her own acid comment then, but Foaly, ignoring Trouble, was already talking again, this time in a tone a touch more serious.

"But it's no wonder really," he said, folding his arms and frowning at Holly as though she were one of his misbehaving techies. "After requesting all those difficult aboveground missions, one right after another, of course you're going to wind up passing out for hours on end in strange places. That's half a dozen Recon missions in the past couple of months alone: that's unheard of, that is. I'm thinking you might be due for another appointment at the Cominetto Spa before too long."

"He's right," Trouble said. Then, straightening, he took on a more authoritative tone and repeated, "That is, he's absolutely right. You are overdoing it, Captain. Which is why you're about to be under orders to cut back. Effective immediately."

Holly started at this and, quickly deciding that Foaly's threat of shipping her off to the spa was not the most pressing issue at the moment, began earnestly, "But Trubs— "

"That's Commander," Trouble said, perhaps hoping that invoking the position and the respect it demanded would be enough to quell all protest.

"Commander," said Holly, not being particularly respectful, "I'm perfectly fit for Recon work." She pushed herself up from the old couch, then swayed slightly, lightheaded. Staunchly ignoring the raised eyebrows oriented her way,Holly added, "Anyway, I don't have time to argue about it now. I was planning to stop by the clinic today and I want to get there before visiting hours are over."

Trouble's expression seemed to darken slightly at this. He would know that stop by the clinic meant going to visit Artemis, where Artemis was still undergoing treatment for his Atlantis Complex. Trouble had made it abundantly clear that, whatever Artemis might have done for the People in the past, he still considered trusting him in any context a bad idea all around. Consequently, Trouble had seemed grimly satisfied when he had heard that Artemis was soon to leave Haven, as directed by Dr. Argon, to continue his recovery on the surface.

Trouble only shrugged his shoulders irritably, apparently not in an arguing mood. "Fine. But, before you go—there was something I wanted to talk to you about. In fact, a couple of things."

Holly glanced at the clock again. "It can't wait?"

"It will only take a minute."

For some reason, Foaly was smirking so wide it was a wonder the corners of his mouth didn't stretch right off his face. He raised his sim coffee. "Might I propose a toast?" he said with a nasally, mock-sophisticated accent. "To peace, friendship, and new lo—"

Trouble shot him a withering scowl, and folded his arms across his chest. "Don't you have somewhere to be, Mr. Technical Adviser?" he demanded, one jagged eyebrow raised threateningly. "Maybe the LEP isn't giving you enough work if you have time to slack off."

"That makes two slackers if you want to play it that way, Commander," the centaur noted, unperturbed. "And with all this overtime I've been pulling for you, you could afford to show a bit more appreciation once in a while."

Holly, knowing full well Foaly's talent for preventing a conversation getting to the point, fixed him with a tight-lipped glare of her own. She glanced pointedly at the clock, then back at Foaly.

Sighing dramatically, Foaly reached over to clap Holly on the shoulder. "You two be sure to have fun without me. I'll just be back in my little box, slaving away as usual."

He started to turn away, but before Holly could so much as breathe a sigh of relief, his gaze fell briefly on the coffee table, and he suddenly spun back, eyes oddly bright.

"Right, I can't believe I almost forgot—I've got something for you." Reaching over, he pushed back a stack of dogeared magazines and tugged out what appeared to be a thick book of the old Mud-Man style. He tossed it to her and, without thinking, Holly stretched out her hands and caught it. She grunted, surprised at the weight. It felt like a human dictionary.

Holly's eyes automatically dropped to the cover, and the moment she saw it, she got an irrepressibly sinking feeling.

Foaly winked. "Just a little gift from me to you. Some light reading, for all that time in the waiting room. Might as well do something to expand the mind, eh?"

Before Holly could think of how to respond, he was gone, whistling to himself as he disappeared through the sliding automatic door.

Grimacing to herself, Holly carefully set the disturbing book face-down on the couch behind her, then turned back to Trouble. "Yes, Commander?" she prompted.

Though Trouble had been the one to insist on the use of the title, for some reason a flicker of annoyance passed over his face. "Just call me Trouble. Forget what I said earlier, it's after hours anyway."

"Right, Trouble," Holly said. She hoped being cooperative for once might speed this up a little—she glanced back at the clock again, hoping he would get the hint. She still had a little over an hour left before visiting hours closed, but it would take time to get over there.

Trouble studied her for a long minute, face still set in that same expression of grim disapproval, the corner of his mouth twisted downward. However, at last he sighed.

"Okay," he said. "I'll make this fast. First thing—we all know there's enough work to keep us all occupied nonstop for the next ten years. There's the cleanup around Atlantis to think about, not to mention the recent spike in criminal activity with all the Turnball Root wannabes coming out of the woodwork. But—you've been doing way too much, Holly, even I can see that. That's why I've got it all arranged—tomorrow, you're taking the day off. Rest up, recharge your batteries. Frond knows you need it."

Holly shook her head, exasperated. "You can't be serious." She tried to glare at him, but she imagined the effect was somewhat ruined by the bags under her eyes.

Trouble raised an eyebrow at her, arms folded, stance set.

Holly regarded him through narrowed eyes, though she was already beginning to feel this was an argument she wasn't going to win. "What would I do with an entire day?"

Trouble shrugged. "Up to you. Sleep is a necessary part of life, much as I've never wanted to admit it. May be a good time to veg out in front of the tele, get caught up on all your soaps."

Holly snorted. Like she didn't avoid soap operas of all kinds like the plague. However, she shook her head, sobering again. "We're short-staffed as it is," she pointed out. "We might be overworked and underpaid, but that's the LEP for you. I'm not any more overworked than anyone else."

Trouble's arms were still folded. Again, he raised a jagged eyebrow. "Please, Holly. You think I don't pay attention, but I do. It's not just those missions Foaly was talking about, you've been taking shifts from other officers like crazy, and you haven't had a full day off in months. You'll burn yourself out."

Holly couldn't think of a good response to this, so she didn't answer immediately.

Trouble took advantage of her silence to add, "And, that brings us to the other thing I wanted to talk to you about."

Trouble coughed into his fist, and for some reason, his shoulders were suddenly rigid. "If you did manage to get some proper relaxing in, like you're supposed to—maybe, that evening, when the rest of the LEP officers are finally getting off, you might consider grabbing a bite to eat somewhere. And see a movie, if you wanted. What do you think about that?"

"I see," Holly said, the corner of her lip half twitching in spite of herself. "I have to admit, that was subtle, Trubs, especially for you." In fact, Holly imagined that if Artemis had been there, he probably would have rolled his eyes and, in his best patronizing tone, commented, So subtle in fact, I'm surprised you picked up on it, Captain. Congratulations.

Trouble waved away the compliment—if he even considered it that. "Is that a yes?"

In a tone of half exasperation, half amusement, she said, "I guess so. But let's skip the movie, I doubt there's anything worth seeing."

For the first time in the conversation, Trouble relaxed slightly, and gave a half grin. Ever since Trouble's promotion—or at least Holly's return from Hybras—there always seemed to be an intensity about his expression, a gravity in the weight of command. But at the moment he looked more like the Trouble she remembered from her initiation.

"What about that dramatized version of the goblin uprising?" he suggested. "I hear they're replaying it."

Holly groaned. "Definitely not the one about the goblin rebellion. Do you realize they had Skylar Peat playing me? She's four inches taller than I am. I mean four inches. And she looks about as fit to be a Recon officer as..." She trailed off, not wanting to say the first name that came to mind.

"As my brother Grub?" Trouble supplied, grinning fully now.

"Yes," Holly said, relieved. "Or Corporal Frond."

Trouble laughed, then shrugged again. "Fine, no movie. I don't really like action films much anyway—too bland next to real life." Coughing again, he added, "So—dinner at eight then?"

"Sure," Holly answered. "See you there then, Trubs."

Trouble nodded, then glanced at a readout on his wrist computer. A heavy breath escaped him, and the careless grin faded. "Well, I'd better get back to things. Don't know if you heard, but a few demons and a goblin somehow managed to make it to the surface a few weeks ago, and we still haven't got a hold of them. Probably nothing to worry about, but if the idiots manage to get themselves caught on a Mud Man's camera somewhere..." He trailed off ominously.

"No, I hadn't heard about that," Holly said, frowning. "Trouble, why don't I—"

Trouble's faraway look sharpened, eyes snapping back to her face. "Oh no you don't," he said, cutting her off before she could even get the offer out. We'll get it taken care of. We already have several Recon officers and a full-time Retrieval squad on top of it, and I'm thinking of sending myself if things don't wrap up soon anyway."

Holly sighed again, then smiled slightly. "Who's working too hard now?"

Trouble's expression was grave, but his eyes once again betrayed amusement. "Still you." He put up a hand in a terse wave as he turned away. "See you later then, Holly. Have fun at the mental hospital."

Then he was gone, disappearing through the automatic sliding door.

Holly's smile faded slowly. A whole day off. A whole day without endless protocols and procedures to think about following, and dangerous situations or constant activity to take her mind off those things she would rather not think about.

Then: It wasn't really that funny, the mental hospital thing.

A/N: So, here I am, back after a longer interval than I expected. It should be clear now that the story's going to start at about six months after the end of TAC. (The fact that TLG started at around that same time is a coincidence, though not that astounding a one, as I think half a year is a good, round number.)

Anyway, a huge thanks again to levina for betaing this chapter (multiple times!), and helping smooth out a lot of that strange or awkward phrasing, clearing up confusing bits, among the endless amount of other issues that always come up in writing. This chapter is so much better than it was when it was 'done' that first time, heh, thank you very much! (I apologize if I've added more typos since the time I edited it again, lol.)

Hey, I've never gotten so many reviews when I first posted something, thank you, I really appreciate it! As always, I love to hear from you, so don't forget to review! (:

Posted 8/6/12

Edited 5/26/14: Tried to clean up the last scene some to make it flow more naturally, and cut some extraneous wording.

Reposted again 10/1/18: Tried to address some flow issues in the break room scene, and the point of view confusion with Trouble. Also just cut the last Foaly scene entirely, I felt like it wasn't really adding much.