Author Note: We're going with the idea that Haven and Ireland are on the same clock, because that makes things way easier for everyone here and I can't remember it being said otherwise. If it's ever stated in the books that this isn't the case, well, oops.
Anyways, this is part of a holiday exchange thing that a few of us cooked up in an AF-related discord server. Six of us gave a short prompt for what we'd like to see in an Artemis-Holly fanfic and straws were drawn for who would write whose request. My person only said in their prompt "anything you'd like, but witty banter is always a plus" so I just sort of started writing something and included witty banter where I could, to satisfy the prompt. I also played a little bit to a couple of the other prompts, and included a lot of my own sensibilities to round it out and make it something that hopefully anyone who is an Artemis-Holly fan can enjoy, with some specific bits that are crafted with this person's taste in mind after knowing them on discord for a little while.
There is no sex (though there are a couple of fairly suggestive lines), there is no strong cursing, there is no strong violence. This story does not really fit in with my other stories, but it's book canon-compliant, set vaguely after The Fowl Twins books with some references to them but no real spoilers.
Here begins the story:
Brzzzt.
It was his alarm. Generally, that meant it was time to wake up.
Somewhere, Artemis' brain registered the sound of Holly hopping out of bed.
Just five more minutes...
"Artemis, wake up!" Whump.
She'd hit him with a pillow from the sidelines. Bad move, he thought.
Trying to execute a smooth move, a stealth strike wherein he would surprise-launch himself from his sleeping position and sweep her back into his bed with him, the man instead found himself ungraciously rolling off the bed and bruising his rump.
He was laying at Holly's feet, having missed her entirely. "Wow," she remarked. "Impressive."
"Just wait until I really get going," he slurred, closing his eyes once more, dozing off again on the rug.
Whump. Another hit. "Come on, Artemis, it's oh-six-hundred hours already! Remember what day it is?"
6am. That sounded important for some reason. Oh, right, it means Holly has to leave for work soon. Oh well... Zzz...
"What do you mean Oh well? Come on!" Whump.
Wait, did I say that out loud?
Holly rolled her eyes. "Yes, you said that out loud. Your brain's in a fog if you've had less than 5 hours of sleep. One of these days I'm going to be able to lure your computer password out of you because you won't know you're talking."
That got him up and alert, quick. "Now that's not fair," he protested. "Let me remind you whose fault it was that I got less than 5 hours of sleep in the first place."
"Don't kid yourself. It was a joint effort. Now get dressed, I want to eat with you before I'm off."
06:10
By the time Artemis made it to his kitchen in Villa Éco, she had already raided the Fowl fridge. Various foodstuffs lay strewn on the granite counter, and she was trying vainly to reach something on the top shelf of the fridge.
"Allow me," he said, with only the barest hint of mockery. "What'll it be?" he asked, as he began to methodically retrieve every food item from the top shelf and place it on a low section of counter where she could reach it.
He'd had some custom furnishings installed throughout the custom house to make it easier for her on her visits, including this low section of counter in case she wanted to prepare her own food.
However, keeping every food item on a low refrigerator shelf just wasn't feasible. He didn't want Butler throwing his back out by bending over too often.
Holly glowered at him as he flaunted his comparative reach. "It wasn't so long ago you were a little on the short side yourself, you know," she grumbled. "But, to answer your question, I think I'm trying this human brand veggie-burger. You?"
Artemis grabbed a barstool and stifled a yawn. "I suppose I approve."
Holly wiped imaginary sweat from her brow. "Artemis Fowl approves. Phew, I was worried. And quit your yawning."
"Why aren't you yawning? Might I remind you, you got the same amount of sleep I did."
"Yes, but I'm a trained professional."
While Holly nuked the fake meat in a floor-level microwave and rifled through a breadbox for whole grain, Artemis allowed himself a moment to look on her. In his eyes, she was... refulgent.
As for more practical observations, he noticed her having to move her hair out of her eyes more than once. She'd been growing it out longer than usual and it was just at the point where it was getting in the way. He liked the length, but hadn't brought up the subject or asked why she was doing it, for fear she'd be annoyed and take it out by shaving his head in his sleep or something. He had once, many years ago, seen Holly get into a fist fight with some random elf who had said her crew-cut looked pretty, because she had thought the other elf was being sarcastic.
Artemis also refrained from broaching the subject because it wasn't a great big deal to him anyways. He loved her no matter what her hair looked like. It wasn't that he liked it more when it was longer, it was just that he happened to like it both when it was long and when it was short. He'd once heard it said: "If you fancy a woman, and she changes her hair, and she isn't attractive to you anymore, it was a crush. If she's still beautiful, it's love."
Yes, he loved her, and she loved him, but what continued to strike him on a regular basis were the little things that went along with it. Like right now. He watched her help herself to his cache of food, and he was more than happy to allow her access to it. As a petulant child, he probably would have charged his friends money for the food they consumed at his house. If he'd had any friends, that is. Yet, now, what was his was hers.
No one had warned him, when all this love business began, that he'd soon be so willing to sign away his earthly possessions to her. But, ironically, there was no need for him to do so. She never asked for much. She even had insisted on giving him back the remaining ransom gold he'd previously left her in his will, after he died and came back (the remaining gold that she hadn't spent on growing his clone, that is). If she were the lavish type, the type to demand trinkets from jewelry shops, he probably wouldn't love her as much, they probably wouldn't even be here, and the thought experiment would be null anyways.
"Hey!" She snapped a finger at him. "Why do you keep looking at me like that? Earth to Artemis. Do you want your veggie-burger on sliced bread, a bun, or stuffed straight into your yawning maw?"
"I love you."
"Uh... Thanks. I love you too, but I still have to go to work. Now eat, Arty, or be eaten," she commanded, adopting a sly face. "It's a cruel world out there, you know."
"Protected by the LEP, thankfully." He bowed his head in reverence.
Holly smirked. "That's right. And don't you forget it, mud man. Got a troll on the surface?" Holly looked down the sights of a finger gun, which was pointed at an old tapestry depicting the mountain king from Peer Gynt. "Well, we've got you covered." She pulled the trigger on her finger gun and holstered it smugly. "We know a thing or two because we've seen a thing or two. That's us, the LEPrecon."
Ding, went the microwave.
Ding, went Artemis' sleep-deprived mind, which had suddenly had an epiphany.
"Say, Holly Short, former Captain of the LEPrecon."
"Yes, Artemis Fowl, former public enemy number one?"
"I was thinking."
"Uh-oh."
"Why do the LEPrecon have Lower Elements in their name when all they do is chase fairies who are already aboveground?"
She stuffed the veggie-burger straight into his yawning maw.
06:30
Artemis saw Holly out the door with a hug and a kiss, then immediately went back to bed.
The second his head hit the pillow, though, Myles Fowl casually strolled into the bedroom with some sort of apparatus that was covered in tiny plungers. "I am pleased to see you returning to sleep, brother," he said. "I have an experiment to perform on your hippocampus during your state of pandiculation. I'm publishing a sleep study under the pseudonym Dave Ed Buoy."
Myles Fowl saying "I have an experiment to perform on your hippocampus" is just about as effective a stimulant as an elfin girlfriend threatening to access a bloke's computer history.
Artemis sat bolt upright posthaste. He grabbed a copy of War and Peace from his nightstand to shield his head with. He often liked to use it as light reading before bed. "Back away, Myles. Don't make me engage this room's defense systems."
Myles threw his gaze to the ceiling's nearest corner, where he knew a DNA cannon had been installed and hidden behind a panel. "Always so melodramatic, brother," he sighed.
Artemis had a feeling this might have been a compliment, but he took no chances. "Just vacate the premises, please. I know it must have been hard, not being able to examine my ideal brain while I was off-world, but that's hardly an excuse to start up again while I'm sleeping."
Myles gawked. "Your ideal brain? The nerve!"
"I hear there are multiple nerves up there, actually. You should look into that. Now go."
Myles slumped his shoulders in temporary defeat and turned to leave. "I suppose I shall permit you to sleep, for now."
Artemis' head was already back on his pillow.
Myles called over his shoulder, "It is a big day for you, after all."
Artemis closed his eyes, eager to doze off. "Hmm?" he mumbled.
"It's Christmas Eve, and you have yet to procure a gift for Commodore Short... as I believe is tradition."
Artemis' eyes shot open once more. "D'arvit!"
08:29
Commodore Holly Short was twenty-nine minutes late by the time she was at her post, which happened to be her cramped private office in Police Plaza. Not that she was ungrateful for the office space or lack thereof. The enclosed office was a big step up from the old open-air Captain's cubicle where she had had to endure the stench of the neighboring male officers' cologne and smoking (she didn't know which was worse).
The cross-country flight to the shuttleport had been fine, but because of the holiday, the amount of fairies clogging up the tubes, and the boulevards down in Haven, had been ridiculous. Thankfully, though, there was no one to scold her for being late, with the force mostly on leave.
Holly was working Christmas Eve because she'd been taking a fair amount of leave time lately to see Artemis, and wanted to throw management off her scent by working a day that most don't. Show she was committed to the job, and all that.
Holly closed her door, sat down at her desk, and booted up her work computer. In the ancient times, all her work would have been on physical paper. The fact the mundane paperwork was now virtual didn't make it any more action-packed, though. Stamping reports, approving fleet movements, etc.
She'd been offered a secretary to cut down on the workload. However, during the interviews process, the male candidates looked at her in ways that made her want to punch them, which wouldn't have looked good on the report she'd then have to stamp, and the female candidates were, in her professional opinion, airheads. She was already under enough political pressure; she didn't need a misfiled form causing a workplace death on her watch. If you want a job done right, so on and so forth.
Artemis, for his part, had been quite happy when she was put up for the commodore position. It meant less field work and less risk to her life, a life which he seemed to cherish or something. It was sweet, in his own way, but one of these days she was going to tie him to a desk and give him eight hours of LEP paperwork and see how he liked it. Actually, knowing Artemis, he'd mentally jump for joy at the opportunity to lay eyes on eight hours' worth of confidential LEP paperwork. He wouldn't physically jump for joy, though, since that would require jumping.
Holly stifled a yawn, since she was a trained professional who was used to operating under low energy conditions, and tried to push her personal life out of her head so she could focus. Duty first.
Holly started perusing an application for a squad transfer that had just come in. It was Grub Kelp, unhappy at being yelled at by another commanding officer. Yawn. That was old news.
Right. Stamp NO here, sign the touch screen there...
Three hours later, Holly was awoken with a start by a knock at her door and the voice of Mayne. "Are you in there?"
She blearily looked at the clock. 11:40. Oh no. Holly hastily finished signing her name on Grub's rejected application. "Yeah! Come in. What's up?"
Mayne trotted in.
Mayne was Foaly's nephew, who had taken over as the LEP's resident technical genius after Foaly left to work at Argon's science center. The young centaur was a solid brainiac. Foaly wouldn't have left if Mayne wasn't up to the job. In fact, Mayne had pioneered a new central computer infrastructure for the LEP that even Foaly had to admit was an improvement. It was called the Mayneframe.
"Is this about your new imaging project?" she asked, trying not to slur, rubbing the sleep out of her eyes. "The Gross Tech?" she clarified.
Mayne pouted. "It's called GRIM Tech."
Global Resonance Imaging of Magic Technology was something Foaly had developed at Argon's and was trying to get Mayne to implement at the LEP. It was supposed to be able to pick up unauthorized uses of magic on the surface, using advanced satellite imaging and some kind of filter. As it was, it neither worked very well nor did it impress, seeing as how it couldn't pick up anything smaller than a blue whale performing a time freeze. "We're actually getting it down to elephant-sized event detection now," Foaly had proudly proclaimed recently.
"But I'm not here because of that," Mayne said. "I'm here because it's almost lunchtime. Me and the rest of the holiday skeleton crew were wondering if you wanted to share lunch with us."
Oh no. Lunchtime. This was bad. In a twist of fate, she, too, had yet to acquire a gift for her significant other. Just like Artemis hadn't, who was of course her (secret) significant other. She'd been intending to miraculously come up with a gift idea while doing the morning's paperwork, and to then acquire it, whatever it was going to be, on her lunch hour. Now it was lunchtime, except she had no plan.
Eating with Mayne and the boys right now was last on her priority list. Well, maybe not last. It was certainly above cleaning her kitchen. "Boy, Mayne, normally I'd love to, but I'm actually booked for lunch hour. Another time, perhaps."
"Aw, come on, what's a mare 20 minutes out of your schedule? Get it? Mare 20 minutes? Hey, what's the difference between a hare and a mare?"
Holly ground her teeth. "What."
"I-J-K-L."
"Mayne, I swear, one of these days-"
"You'll eat with us?" Mayne made pathetic doe eyes that he'd obviously learned from Foaly whenever he wanted someone to pick up moisturizer for him.
Holly sighed. "I'll sit with you guys for ten minutes. Then I have to go."
Mayne cheered. "You won't egret this," he said, producing an origami bird from nowhere. "Here. For you. Merry Christmas."
"Aw," she said, genuinely a little touched. "Thank you, Mayne."
Mayne was already heading out the door. "Don't mention it. We found a box of ancient tax code papers in storage that were due to be recycled. The boys are folding all sorts of stuff with it down in the cafeteria. Wait 'till you see what else they're making with it."
"Oh joy."
10:40
Artemis had given himself four more hours of sleep, reasoning soundly that since he didn't even have an idea of what to get Holly, as much sleep as possible was required in order to get his brain to peak performance state where he could come up with something. If he'd tried to brute-force the creative process with only five hours' sleep, he probably would have ended up thinking it was a good idea to get her a vacuum cleaner, in which case he could once again say goodbye to his short little life.
He now sat in his study's office chair, fingers steepled, deep in thought.
I am Artemis Fowl. I am a criminal mastermind. Coming up with a gift idea will be as easy as pie.
11:00
I am Artemis Fowl. I am a criminal mastermind. Brilliant ideas are like low-hanging fruit to me.
11:20
I am Artemis Fowl. I am a criminal mastermind. Coming up with a gift idea will be a piece of cake.
11:40
I am Artemis Fowl. I am a criminal mastermind, and I am very hungry.
He spoke into his desk's intercom. "Butler, would you please prepare tea and a lunch for me? A sandwich, any type, if you don't mind."
11:50
Artemis Fowl found himself undeniably stuck on a problem. However, this was not something he liked to admit, so when Butler came into the Fowl study to serve lunch, he pre-emptively denied it.
"Things are proceeding smoothly in here, Butler, so, no need to worry," he said with practiced pride.
Butler set the sandwich on a stack of books. "Uh, I'm just here to give you this and to ask what sort of tea you prefer today. I take it I should be worried?"
Artemis, not in the best of moods, launched into lecture mode. "No. No, you should not worry. I specifically said there is no need to worry. Therefore, logic would dictate, there is no need to worry."
"Alright, so, type of tea?"
Artemis slammed a palm on his desk. "I cannot think of a gift for Commodore Short!"
"Ah, so that's the worry."
Artemis, in a stunning display of maturity, crossed his arms and turned the other way. "Bah."
His dilemma was entirely self-inflicted, and he knew it. Waiting until December 24th… stupid. Just this morning, I was thinking about how ready I was to give her anything. Wistfully staring at her like an idiot in the kitchen, thinking about buying her the moon. And yet it slipped my mind that it was Christmas Eve all along, the day before the ONE day people are expected to actually give each other things. And I haven't the faintest idea what she'd desire. Perhaps the moon itself? No, that breaks international law, unfortunately.
Butler, meanwhile, was contemplative. Artemis not knowing what to gift the apple of his eye was a problem that was not unexpected. The bodyguard had been young once, and had seen young people in love. Artemis and Holly hadn't made their relationship status public, but it would take an idiot not to notice the signs that they had become significantly closer over the past few months: The elf's visits and overnight stays growing more frequent, the uptick in hours Artemis spent on the phone, the recent "business" trips to Haven, and, most pitifully, Artemis' attempts to sneak in and out of the house at odd hours. Butler was no idiot.
Butler put a hand on Artemis' shoulder. It was a somewhat aged hand, one that couldn't casually beat on bull trolls anymore, but it was still capable of removing the life from any mortal man. And yet, here, it made Artemis feel at ease, the gesture being their modus operandi equivalent of an embrace. "Perhaps," ventured Butler, "you should simply ask her."
12:05
Holly, meanwhile, was dealing with the same problem vis-à-vis having no gift and no idea. Eating with Mayne and the boys wasn't helping, either. She had as much origami talent as Artemis had pole vault talent. Then again, these LEP guys didn't have much talent either, and that wasn't stopping them.
"Ey," laughed Chix Verbil, holding up some folded paper in a roughly rounded, bisected shape. "Look what I made!"
"A butt," guessed Captain Newt.
"You got it! It's Grub Kelp!" crowed Chix. The men roared in laughter.
Holly stabbed at her veggies with record low enthusiasm.
"I'm right here," whined Grub Kelp, who was two seats down the cafeteria table.
Holly looked at Grub. The kid looked more upset than usual. She actually felt sorry for him. She'd rejected his application, after all. She sighed, irritated with her own stroke of sympathy, and spoke up. "Pass me a sheet, Mayne."
Mayne obliged. The men hushed, waiting to see what Holly would do. She grabbed a flatware knife from the table, cutting a square hole in the paper but leaving a crossbar pattern in the center. She held it up. "Alright, Chix, what's this?"
"Well, you're not supposed to cut, Commodore, but that there's a window," declared Chix. He seemed proud.
"Very good, you know what a window is. But be more specific. What are windows made up of?"
Chix frowned. "Glass?"
"Right. And a sheet of glass in a window is called...?"
"A pane?"
Holly started clapping. "Very good! It's you!"
As the table roared with laughter once more, Chix reddened, and Holly threw Grub a wink.
12:10
Holly exited Police Plaza's mess hall in a rush, but she felt like St Peter would judge her kindly in the end for having afforded her work friends ten minutes of her time. But now, it was time for action re: her gift problem.
She really did have no idea what to get. Artemis had the means to buy or steal himself literally anything. So the gift had to be creative. Creativity which she'd been planning to muster during morning paperwork, as a background process in her head. So much for that. I just HAD to fall asleep on the job. Curse that mud man. I didn't even have any insightful dreams, either.
And she had to get something now, because she was flying back to his house straight after work, and Christmas was tomorrow. This was their last stretch of time apart before the actual day of the holiday.
Holly made her way to Haven's premier shopping district via the Stick, Haven's public transit conveyor belt. The uncoordinated Artemis intended to strike the thing out of existence as his first act should he ever become omnipotent.
While on the ride, Holly wondered if Artemis would be a just ruler should he ever actually become omnipotent, since that was within the realm of possibility when it came to Fowl. Nowadays, he would probably actually make a decent leader. Even his Interpol hacking of late had only been done to help the police find criminals they weren't intelligent enough to catch themselves. He was like a Sherlock Holmes of sorts.
Incidentally, Artemis disliked this comparison, as he felt that the BBC Sherlock series was for little babies. However, there had in fact been a little baby in the Fowl family some years back. Artemis had been forced to endure the series when Myles had wanted to watch it when he was 2. It was a blessed day when Myles had declared the series to be below his age level a month later. Before that time had come, though, Artemis had forced Holly to endure the series along with him, just so he could have someone to vent to about it.
Anyways, Holly now entered what humans would call a shopping mall. Fairies called it… a shopping mall. She had little more than half an hour to accomplish her task before she had to get back to work, and she felt more than a little silly upon entering the place.
Why am I even doing this? This is stupid. He already has everything he needs. And shopping is for dullards anyways.
A civilian firearm store's window display caught her eye. Ooh, the new wave of Neutrino is out. Might as well take a peek. How is it these civilian businesses can get their hands on new tech before the LEP?
Holly strode into the firearm establishment, trying to look casual, and peered at a price tag. Oh yeah, that's why.
None of this was suitable gift material for Artemis, seeing as the Fowl family definitely didn't need any more fairy weaponry at their disposal.
But, she decided to look around the store for a minute anyway. It would be professionally prudent to get a peek at what the local criminals could potentially have in their holsters, right? But only for a minute. She was on a mission.
Twenty minutes later, Holly emerged from the blaster store with a bag of newly purchased tactical gear for herself, and only having glared menacingly at two sexist customers and one sexist employee. Would she ever actually need any of the stuff she'd bought? Hey, you never know, and that's why it's important, she told herself.
Now, let's see, plenty of time to find something for Artemis, right? She glanced at her wrist's computer display. Oh dear.
Holly started hurrying through the shopping mall, looking to and fro for something, anything. She passed a kiosk selling makeup for dwarf bums, ostensibly to make them more attractive. Hah. As if that was possible.
She also passed a clothing department store. Hah. As if Artemis needed any more clothing.
But there was something about the department store that piqued her interest anyways. It was her soldier's sense. Her elfin ears twitched. The sound coming out of the place wasn't quite right. Out in the main artery of the mall, the overlapping chatter of the crowd was consistent, an irksome murmuring. But coming from the department store were terse shouts of alarm, barely audible over the main crowd. Scared-looking customers were rushing out.
Holly elbowed her way back through the mass of holiday shoppers in order to get into the store. When she entered, it was seemingly vacant at first glance, the customers having fled for their lives, but the trademark shouts of a holdup were crystal clear. She glanced all around her. Racks and racks of frivolous crap, but no cash register in sight. Why in heaven's name did department stores not put their checkout stations at the front of the store, like literally every other type of store under and above the surface?
Holly ran through aisles of garments and footwear, following the sounds of the standoff. There was a goblin and a dwarf involved, judging by the tones of the shouting voices. The nerve! A holdup on Christmas Eve. Maybe they fancy themselves to be the Wet Bandits. An unlikely pair, too.
Holly finally located the checkout counter that was being held up, at the very back of the store. Ugh. She peeked around a corner to quickly take in the situation. She silently set her bag of recent purchases on the floor, and drew her sidearm.
The scaly goblin was shouting at the black-bearded dwarf, who was behind the counter. They seemed pretty involved in their conversation, and Holly didn't have time to absorb the details of the scenario, but she could see the dwarf stuffing money into a bag and looking very nervous, as did the goblin.
Before the situation could devolve and potentially involve civilian injuries, Holly leapt into action, grabbing the goblin from behind and sticking her neutrino into his back. "LEP! Freeze, both of you!" she shouted.
The dwarf and the goblin stopped shouting at each other then. The dwarf behind the counter gazed at her quizzically. The goblin, meanwhile, had his hands up in no time, which was a nice change. He hadn't dropped his gun though.
Just then, Holly caught the glare of a human slugthrower, undoubtedly contraband, in the dwarf's hand. But the goblin hadn't even had a weapon. Wait a minute...
"I-I w-work h-here!" cried the goblin, petrified in her grip. "L-let me g-go!"
The dwarf, regaining his sense, had his gun pointed at both of them in a flash. "Don't move, she-elf! Or I drop both you and the clerk."
Holly started sweating. She had made an oopsie. The criminal was pointing a gun at her and a civilian, and the civilian was the one in the middle. It was supposed to be the other way around. "Calm down, sir," she attempted. "Remember, I have my weapon behind the goblin here."
The dwarf snorted. "Yeah, you sure do. Real nice jam you got yourself in. Now keep it there. No sudden moves. I'm gonna just slide out of here nice and easy, and leave you two be." He finished clearing the register with his free hand, and moved to step from behind the counter, a safe distance from Holly and the goblin, never lowering his gun.
The goblin was shaking in Holly's grip. "Just d-do what h-he says," he managed.
The dwarf nodded approvingly. "That's right. Now, I'm gonna head on back to my nice little tunnel I made under the horseshoe department, and you two are gonna stay right there."
Holly dared not make a move. The dwarf didn't seem like the murderous type right off the bat, but he held all the cards.
As it turned out, though, there was a joker in the deck.
Mulch Diggums shuffled out from behind a centaur kilt rack, with his quaking bum pointed at the other three occupants of the room. "Top of the morning! Oh, and fire in the hole," he added, almost as an afterthought, and no sooner had he said the words than there was indeed a fire in the hole. The last thing Holly noticed before her lights went out was that Mulch had applied foundation back there.
Holly came to and immediately noticed her splitting headache. The second thing she noticed was that Mulch was shaking her awake. She was not currently happy.
"Not happy!" she declared to all present, rubbing her head.
Unfortunately, Mulch Diggums, peering down at her, was all who was present in the vicinity with her. Well, besides the unconscious goblin laying on top of her. Oh, and the unconscious dwarf who had been blown behind the checkout counter and was now flat on his face.
While rubbing her sore head, Holly noticed something else, which was that her aforementioned sore head, which had been in the line of fire, having been poking above the goblin's shoulder, was covered in recycled clay.
Glancing around, Holly saw that the unconscious goblin and dwarf were covered in it, too.
Mulch hauled the goblin off of Holly. "Sorry, it was all I could think of. Here, let me help you up."
Holly batted away his outstretched hand and climbed to her feet. "You see a holdup and your first thought is to assault everyone in the room with your... stuff? I had it totally under control!" She brushed a worm out of her hair. The longer hair she'd been sporting looked nice, but it also evidently had the downside of catching more airborne dwarf detritus than it did before.
"Well, excuuuuuse me, comfy office elf, for gettin' your poor wittle hands a wittle dirty." Mulch hopped over the checkout counter (a move that Holly noticed he was far too practiced at) to make sure the robber dwarf was breathing, which he was.
"Hey, listen. I am not afraid to get my hands dirty. I associate with you, don't I? What I'm worried about are civilian casualties of your kraken-shaming outgassings."
"Hey, it worked, right? It was a low-power treatment. I'm a professional. Everyone's alive, including your goblin clerk friend, Stuttering Stewart. No thanks to you."
Holly frowned. "He was only stuttering because he was being held up. You should be nicer to the general populace. What are you doing here anyway, reprobate? Doesn't seem like your type of store." Holly took in the racks of now-brown clothes all around her which would need to be written off as a loss.
"I'm in the PI business, remember? This blackbeard loser's been on my radar for weeks. Oh, by the way, your phone's ringing."
Holly glanced at her wrist display to see who was calling, and paled. "Shut your trap! Can't you see my phone's ringing?!"
Phone meaning wristbound communicator in this case, phone being merely the common lingo despite Foaly's insistence it was a misnomer. Whenever Foaly pressed the matter, he would be asked to say wristbound communicator five times fast, which usually gave the other person time to leave the room.
"Ooooh, is it Mud Boy?" teased Mulch. "Or should I say, Mud Man?"
Holly hissed at him. "Yes! But quit your insinuations, you insipid little imp. We're just friends."
"I know things. I'm a PI."
"Self-proclaimed."
"Still, it doesn't take a genius to look at travel manifests for the city and see your name on them more often than a dwarf has a meal. But don't worry, my lips are sealed."
"Well, good thing there isn't a genius here to look at travel manifests. Now, are you going to shut up so I can take this?"
"Yeah, sure, sure. Oh, but ask him what the latest plan for domination is, would you?" Mulch's tombstone teeth glinted with stolen gold fillings. "Now, whether that's world domination, or domination of a more... domestic nature... I'll just have to be the judge."
"Shut the four-leaf-clover up, Mulch."
Holly, fuming, moved to a quiet corner of the store (which was now a crime scene) to take the call, making sure her watch's camera was off and letting Mulch's laughter die down before answering.
"Hey, Artemis, this is kind of a bad time, is this important?"
The Irishman's voice sounded muffled at first, until Holly wiped the mud off the watch's speaker grille. His tone was... nervous? "Sorry," he said. "My apologies. I shouldn't have called out of the blue. Well, I'll simply ring you later... Get it? My communicator's on a ring... Nevermind. Sorry..."
"Well, hang on a second." Holly looked back over to the checkout area, which was covered in brown debris, unconscious fairies, and Mulch mooning the security cameras.
In the distance, an LEP siren wailed. They were going to ask her for a statement. And for her to fill out pages and pages of paperwork.
"Actually," she decided, "I've got a bit. What's up, mud man?"
Back in Ireland, in his study, Artemis breathed a sigh of relief at being able to carry on. Then he realized that this meant he'd have to have this conversation after all, which led to another nervous breath. Calling Holly had been his last resort.
Loosen her up first. Just be casual, his tactful brain said.
"You're my everything," his mouth said.
"What?"
Idiot. Nice going. "Well, ah, what I mean is, I just want to get that out of the way. In case I say anything stupid, that is."
"...Uh-huh. Because God forbid that ever happen."
Artemis was sweating and he wasn't even standing up. "Right. Hah. Well, I'm just calling to see how things are going."
"They're going, I guess." He could hear Holly relax a touch. That was good, because it made him relax, too. "Say, did you take a nap?" she noticed. "You sound less groggy than when I left."
"Er, yes. I think I needed it."
Holly whispered into the line conspiratorially, "Don't tell anyone, but I took one too."
Artemis raised an eyebrow. "Wow. Holly Short, sleeping on the job. Was breaking all the other rules and regulations not exciting enough anymore?"
"Har, har. That reminds me, actually, speaking of breaking rules, I just ran into Mulch," she said. "He's been asking what your latest world domination plan is."
Artemis lit up. "Well, actually, I've been revisiting some old plans of mine lately. When I was up in space, I realized just how many minerals are embedded in the crust of the Moon. I was thinking it might be possible to build a surface-based laser emitter to crack the surface and have it literally rain gold on our land. Wouldn't that be something?"
Down in Haven, Holly wrinkled her nose, wondering whether she'd been right earlier about how benevolent a ruler Artemis Fowl would be.
Then Artemis chuckled. "It's entirely a thought experiment, of course. Purely in the hypothetical realm. It was actually something I drew up on a napkin when I was seven. Sometimes I like to look back on those and laugh."
Holly sighed in relief. "Okay, good. Heh..." Then she remembered something. "Hey... I remember seeing something like that before. Myles drew something like that on a napkin when he was only five."
Up in Ireland, Artemis ground his teeth, knowing she was right. "I'm quite aware! So what, he came up with a version of the same plan at an earlier age than I. It means nothing. In fact, it means less than nothing. Myles' version of the plan wouldn't have even worked. His laser didn't account for outer atmospheric refraction to an acceptable decimal place. Embarrassing, really."
He heard Holly laugh, and even though it was at his expense, it was still a beautiful sound. It soothed him immediately. He would let Myles outpace him more often if it meant he got to hear that sound.
"So," she said finally. "Is there anything else? As amusing as this is, I really do have something I'm in the middle of here."
Oh yes. The reason I called her. Here we go... "Well," he began, deciding to strike a business tone. "I know this colloquy is long overdue, seeing as it's already midday Christmas Eve..."
Holly's voice came back cautious. "Yeah... what about it?"
"Well," he began again, while mentally chiding himself for his repeat use of the word well. "I was, purely academically of course, wondering what sorts of things are, well, desirable gifts for elves, ah, on such a holiday. I'm afraid I've put off the matter until quite late, but I believe I can still procure something, that is, if you want anything..." The words were tumbling out of his mouth faster than he would have liked.
Artemis held his breath. The gauntlet has been thrown down. Will she ask for something extravagant? Make me buy something worth a million euros to test my commitment? No, she isn't like that. Maybe she'll ask for nothing, but secretly expect something? Or will she ask for something, but expect nothing? Wait, that doesn't make sense. Or... oh no. Maybe there's something in the fairy bible about not accepting holiday gifts from humans. I can't remember. Oh, I'm such an idiot. She'll crush me beneath my boot on the spot, shatter my heart, and never want to see me again. My fate is sealed.
Artemis could hear a wailing tone in his head. The pressure was too much. I'm going insane. I'm hearing a ringing in my ears. It's been 3.2 seconds and she hasn't responded. I'm doomed. Wait a second, that wailing tone isn't in my head. It's on the other end of the line!
"Are those sirens?" he said.
"Yeah, I ran into a little spot of bother here. I actually have to go. I'll see you tonight, okay?"
Artemis sprang from his chair and gesticulated wildly to the zero people who could see him. "Wait! What should I get you?!"
"I don't know. Just follow your heart, Arty. I know you have one."
"I-"
"Sorry, gotta run. And I'm probably gonna be a couple hours late tonight. Love ya." click
Artemis sat back down, in stunned silence.
So, yet again, she hadn't rejected him. He was continually amazed by that fact. Instead, she had... encouraged him? To... follow his heart? It was something Artemis Fowl still wasn't entirely used to or comfortable doing, but that he had found himself doing more and more, lately. For her.
Every time he had truly followed his heart, Holly had been there waiting.
Ooh, that's a good line, his inner Orion side said. You should totally say that one to her.
No, I shouldn't, because I value my head being attached to my shoulders. Holly is not the mushy type.
Ooh! Since it's Christmastime, you should throw in something about your heart growing three sizes.
Again, no, I shouldn't. Head, shoulders. Attached. Let's keep them that way.
Anyways, as nice as the heart-following thought was, it didn't realistically help him with what to get her. It did give him the confidence, though, that whatever it ended up being, she wouldn't hate him for it. He pictured her by the fireplace on the upcoming festive evening, how she'd look in the glow, receiving his as-yet-undecided offering and smiling... brushing her hair out of her eyes...
A-ha.
"I think I have an idea," he announced to no one in particular. "Yes, if I start now, I should just have the time..."
13:00
Back underground, Holly was breathing a massive sigh of relief. Artemis hadn't gotten her anything yet either! She was basically off the hook. She didn't have to be creative anymore! No way could that man come up with something remotely decent between now and when she arrived back at his house tonight after her shift.
When the manager of the store, another goblin, came up to her and offered her a piece of free merchandise for all the trouble, she initially courteously rejected the idea. "I'm the one that put your employee in danger. It should be the LEP sending you a check, sir."
The goblin manager chuckled. "Don't worry about putting young Ste'Wart in danger. He was skimming the cash flow for months. He needed a good rattling."
"Still, I shouldn't accept."
"Are you sure? We have everything a girl could need." The manager eyed her hair. "Shampoo, for example."
Holly glared at him. There were half-digested bugs in her hair, among other things. No amount of shampoo would do the trick. She'd have to cut it short again.
She was tempted to tell the goblin as such, and then tell him off, but considering her lunch hour was over and she was probably going to be dealing with this scene for the rest of the day, she could use a lifeline. And this goblin seemed reasonably intelligent. Then again, he worked in fashion.
"Perhaps I could buy something from you at discount. I'm doing holiday shopping for a man who has everything," she said. "Any ideas?"
The goblin hummed approvingly and started ushering her through different departments. "Ah, certainly! It depends on what species he is, of course. But look! We have wing moisturizer for sprites, something one could always use more of. If your man is a sprite, of course. And look here. Silk bows for styling a dwarf man's beard. I hear they're quite in demand among the dwarves."
Mulch guffawed from the other end of the store. Holly found this ironic, and filed the matter away for another time.
She shifted her feet. "Well, I'm going to have to say no to the silk bow. My man is... definitely not a dwarf."
The goblin manager nodded. "Understandable."
Holly thought about how easy it would be to say "he's a human," but knew it was out of the question. There was no telling how her People would react. They hadn't even told their friends yet.
The manager brought her over to a skin care area. "Looky here. Scale polish. Something any goblin could always use more of. I don't suppose your fancy is of the goblin type...?"
Holly glared at him once more. "Not particularly. But, actually, I think I have to run. You've been a great help..."
The goblin danced back and forth. "No, no! We have anything you'd like, really." Holly was already walking away. "How about something catch-all?" he attempted. "Something universally fashionable. A necktie, for instance!"
Holly stopped. She scratched her head thoughtfully, then grimaced at what she'd done and wiped her hand on her uniform. She strode back to the goblin manager. "You wouldn't happen to have one of those... I don't know... laced with gold, would you?"
21:00
After an exhausting day of dealing with the aftermath of the department store catastrophe, Holly was finally flying over the Irish countryside. Surface air. There was nothing like it. The wind rushing by at high altitude never failed to uplift Holly's spirits. She'd been flying for the better part of a hundred years and it still seemed like a fresh experience every time.
Several prominent fairy psychologists had put forth theorems to explain this phenomenon (as if it needed explaining). One such professional, a Mr. T. J. Fleetstream, once publically theorized that it had to do with the smell being slightly different every time. Air currents and jetstreams constantly brought new air to every part of the world, making the same flight path seem different to sensitive fairy noses every time one flew.
This was at a charity pie drive fundraiser some years back, and another professional in attendance, one Professor Cumulus, called Fleetstream a ninny, and that the answer was obviously selective amnesia caused by flying at too high an altitude. Fairies forget what the air feels like when they're not flying, in other words. Cumulus had said he ought to know, seeing as how his family name was air-related. Fleetstream had replied with something to the effect of "that explains the airheadedness." A pie-throwing brouhaha ensued, causing the charity pie drive to file suit against the two men for wasting food meant for orphaned cherub children.
Anyways, Holly wasn't thinking about the air. She was thinking about the butterflies in her stomach. And they hadn't gotten there from flying through a swarm with her mouth open. No, it was worse. These butterflies were the metaphorical kind. Spending Christmas with Artemis would make them pretty much an official couple.
It reminded her of a time, outside of time (if there even was such a thing), when she'd felt similarly. Back then, she had attributed it to the timestream-induced hormones in her youngified body. Youngified being the technical term, of course.
But lately, ever since her and Artemis had started to become closer some months prior, she'd been feeling like she had during the time paradox. She now knew that the feelings that had been brought to the forefront back then, all those years ago, hadn't been entirely caused by the timestream or her younger state. It was just how she felt about him.
It was totally unprofessional, of course. The total amount of leave time spent over the course of her career had gone from "none" to "lots" in a span of mere months. For the first time in her life, she was making excuses to go on social calls. Root would be turning in his grave. Kelp had raised an eyebrow at her so often that it was stuck there now. Payroll would probably audit her. Thankfully, tomorrow, the majority of the force had leave time. She had an excuse to take a surface trip after her shift had ended.
Holly now saw familiar landmarks and smiled, knowing she was close. At the same time, the apprehension grew.
The majority of the force had leave time on December 25th, yes. Because, for some reason, December 25th was a day where fairy criminals decided to do less crimes, meaning more of the force could go home to their families. If only the criminals were to realize that this was a good arrangement for everyone, and therefore also commit less crimes on some of the other 364 days of the year.
Holly thought about that for a second. The fact that Christmas was a day where LEP members got to spend more time with their families. She'd never taken advantage of it. She'd not had a family to spend the day with before, outside of her LEP family. And most of her LEP family usually wasn't even at work on Christmas because they were usually home, spending time with their actual families. Holly hadn't even had a fern to go home to.
The ridiculously large and unique nighttime silhouette of Villa Éco came into view now. Holly was somewhat glad the Fowls had moved. Before they'd moved, every time on her flights to Fowl Manor, she'd had to see the land Artemis' body was buried under, in a casket she'd had to build herself during the Big Dark… It was hard to think about that time. Not much else could bring her to tears. That six-month hole in her life without Artemis, where her only contact with him had been looking at his soulless face in a cloning pod. Anyways, it would have been tough if she'd had to fly over that burial site during every joyous visit to see him these days. Since they'd moved to Villa Éco, she could enjoy the sights and sounds of Dalkey Island instead.
As she got closer, she could make out with her night vision visor a figure in a black suit, out in front of the building, watching the sky for her. Of course he was.
Was she finally doing it? Spending the Christmas weekend with family? Was Artemis family?
Her cynical side told her: Of course he's not. He's human. He's going to die within the century, and leave you all alone. He already died once. Do families do that to you? Well? Do they?
To which her heart, upon touching down and embracing Artemis, said: I don't know. This is the first family I've ever had.
Artemis, waiting to see Holly, was also nervous, to put it mildly. This was going to be the first holiday spent with her since they'd grown close. Their relationship was new, it was cautious. They loved each other, but it hadn't yet been planned out or public, which gave their brains an out. They could tell people "It's nothing." Afraid to commit, the psychology textbooks would say. He knew, because he'd written one.
When Holly unshielded, touched down, tossed her helmet aside, and threw her arms around him, he was quite surprised. He wasn't surprised she was here; after all, he had spotted her shimmering haze against the starlit sky approaching from practically a kilometre away. But going straight to a hug was a pleasant surprise. He had the sense to get down on one knee to level with her better, so that she was able to hug higher than his stomach.
They pulled apart to look at each other.
"Merry Christmas Eve, Arty."
"And a Merry Christmas Eve to you, too, Holly." Then he noticed that her mismatched eyes were somewhat wet. "Were you crying?" he blurted without a second thought. Stupid, he thought. Of course she'd been crying. Eyes don't just water up for no reason.
Holly cleared her throat and wiped her eyes. "No... It was the flight, I think. Sometimes they just water up for no reason. I think the seals on the helmet are faulty."
Artemis nodded professionally. "Of course. Ever since Mayne took over, the thing's been faulty, no?"
"Tell me about it. He keeps adding new tech into the suits. Throws the center of gravity off something awful. He keeps saying that theoretically my flying should be unaffected by the extra tech, so I offered to toss him off a roof and let him theoretically learn how to fly on the way down."
All of the LEP's equipment was, in actuality, less faulty than ever since Mayne took over. And Artemis was pretty sure she knew he knew she'd been crying, but she had an image to maintain and so neither of them pressed it further.
Suddenly, Artemis noticed something about her in the moonlight, and he went as white as a sheet… a sheet that's whiter than Artemis, that is. "Hellfire," he breathed.
Holly immediately matched his worry, though she knew not the cause yet. Her fingers hovered over her blaster, and she looked around to see if there was danger. "What is it?" she demanded.
"It's your hair."
Holly looked back at him tentatively. "What about my hair?"
"You... you cut it. Oh gods. I should've known something like this would happen..." he muttered, looking quite forlorn.
Holly tensed, unsure what was happening. Surely Artemis wasn't so shallow as to reject her for her hair. "Yes, I cut it, d'arvitall. I'm aware! What's so bad about it?!"
Artemis jumped back into the conversation to reassure her, "No no no, it's nothing like that! You look as stunning as always."
"Okay…Then, what is it?"
"Well, it's just that my gift isn't very useful anymore. And after all that effort..."
"Hate to break it to you, mud man, but my hair does not have to conform to your schedule."
Artemis waved the challenge aside. "Yes, yes, I know. But please, tell me, why did you cut it? You had been growing it out so nicely!"
Holly frowned at the memory. "Are you sure you want to know?"
"Yes, yes! For heaven's sake, I must know!"
"Well, if you must know, it had gotten saturated with over a litre of Mulch Diggums' backdoor recyclings, that's why."
Holly got no small amount of amusement from seeing the look of utter revulsion on Artemis' face at that. "Oh..." he managed.
She continued: "There was a holdup, Mulch panicked, you know how it goes. I smelled like sewage. I didn't feel like getting my hair treated with nuclear-strength disinfectant, so I had it lopped off instead, because I was short on time. Is that a problem?"
She gave him a look that said this had better not be a problem or else you're back to being public enemy number one.
Artemis swallowed. "No... I understand completely."
Holly clapped him on the back and strode around him into the house. "Good. So, why the big deal about the hair? What'd you get me, a comb?"
Artemis got to his feet and followed her in. "Not exactly. I was going to present it tomorrow, but I guess since it's moot now..."
It was a hairclip, shaped like a perfect cluster of holly leaves, forged and molded out of 24-carat gold, leaves and berries detailed with intricate care at a level of precision she didn't know Artemis could pull off. The metal was still warm.
They sat on a sofa in a living room decorated with lights, Beethoven's 9th playing on vinyl somewhere in the background, and Holly's jaw on the floor. Being a fairy, the gold had her under spell, but so did the quality of the man's metalwork. "Is... Is this...?"
"It's some of the last of your ransom gold, yes. Since you won't permit me to simply give it back, I figured I might get some of it back to you in some other form. I, uh, I made it myself." Artemis fidgeted as his work was inspected. He watched her closely for her reaction to every detail. "It isn't much, really. Just a silly hairclip. I thought you might need it if your, you know, hair, was getting in the way at work, or some such. Since I noticed you were letting it grow out, you know..."
Holly turned it over to read the fine inscription, which was etched in gnommish. To Holly, my one true love. Gold means nothing without your golden spirit in my life.
Artemis was still muttering to himself. "Silly, really. Jewelry for Christmas. An antediluvian trope. I don't know what I was thinking-"
He was cut off by Holly launching herself at him, nearly sending the pair of them off the sofa as she kissed him with gusto. He felt her weight atop his chest and he wouldn't trade it for anything.
They were a mess of limbs on the couch when broke for air, Holly laughing with ebullience. "It's perfect!"
"But you're not even the jewelry type. And it isn't even useful," he protested, catching his breath.
"Perhaps it's not useful at the moment, no. And, I'm not really a hairstyling trinket kind of gal, you're right," she agreed.
"Then why the enthusiastic reception?"
"Are you complaining?"
"Heavens, no. I'm just curious."
"It was genuinely thoughtful, is why. You noticed an inconvenience of mine and set out with your own hands to craft something to fix it. Hell, you should see what I got you. It's a crackerjack trinket in comparison."
"Oh?"
Holly winced. "I might as well tell you now. It's a gold necktie I bought down in Haven, but with, like, actual golden thread or something used as one of the materials. Heh. As if you need another necktie..."
Artemis nodded courteously. "That is a perfectly respectable and thoughtful gift."
"Let me guess. You have one already."
He waffled a bit. "Well... You know I can't lie to you..."
Holly facepalmed. "I should have known. Gods, I'm such an idiot-"
"No! Quite the contrary," Artemis pointed out. "The fact I already have something of the sort merely means that I like the concept, and that you know me well enough to independently come up with the same thing. I am touched. And besides," he said, brightening. "I've never owned fairy-made articles of clothing. This will be quite special. Thank you, I mean it."
"Well, thanks. But as for the hairclip, the bottom line is, well, you followed your heart, Arty."
Artemis grinned lopsidedly. "Straight to you."
Holly rolled her eyes at that, but couldn't stop smiling.
Emboldened, Artemis carried on. "In fact, not only did I follow it, but it grew three sizes when it found yours."
Then he noticed Holly grabbing a couch pillow...
Whump.
"Oh, brother," she groaned, hitting him again with the pillow. "What a line. So, Orion's love poetry really was a part of you after all?"
Artemis shielded his head. "Well, yes, but let's not talk about Orion right now."
"And why's that?"
"I'd much rather do this," he said, kissing her. Holly wholeheartedly agreed with the sentiment, releasing her grip on the pillow to instead seek Artemis.
He ran a hand through her new, closely cropped hair, the fresh ends of which faintly tickled his skin.
"And besides," he said, smirking the way he knew she found irresistible, after they had broken for air once more, "he'd be devastated to hear that you've found another."
"Uh-huh. You know, that smirk is not nearly as irresistible as you think it is."
"Well, I'm obviously doing something right."
Holly softened. "You are. You certainly are. I really do love you, Artemis."
"And, as I believe I mentioned in the inscription, and as I labor to reaffirm on a regular basis, I love you too."
"I know..." Holly mulled silently for a minute, turning the hairclip over in her hands. "Artemis... It's okay if you're not ready, but I think I want to be official," she ventured. "At least in our inner circle," she hastily added.
Artemis grimaced. "Butler probably already knows."
Holly grimaced even harder. "I'm afraid Mulch does, too. So we might as well expand it to the rest of our motley crew, is how I look at it. Then, if that goes well... we'll see what happens. Consequences be damned."
Artemis nodded thoughtfully. "I agree. Consequences be double damned."
Holly whistled. "Ooh, they're double damned now. They'd better watch out."
fin