"Artemis?"
He looked up, surprised at the intrusion.
"Has anyone ever told you that you're terrible at checking your emails?" Holly asked, powering down her wingset as she alighted on his windowsill. Artemis quirked an eyebrow up, filing away the information that Foaly's new model appeared to have finally achieved silent operations.
"No," Artemis said airily, pushing his chair out from his work desk. "I'm quite efficient at going through my inbox. Responding to emails is another matter completely, however."
"I'll make sure to tell Foaly that you're ignoring him on purpose, then," she grinned, and he fought the urge to sigh. "I'm sure he'll take that well."
Shutting his computer, Artemis turned to better face her. "I see you're in a pleasant mood today — am I to take it that this visit isn't brought on by urgent matters?"
"Council business is urgent matters, technically."
He hummed noncommittally. "Anything short of world-ending emergencies hardly ranks as 'urgent matters', wouldn't you say?"
"I suppose I would," Holly said, a smile worming its way into her voice as she put on an Oxford affectation to her words to match his cadence. The first time she'd tried to mimic his accent, Artemis had foolishly complained, and it was all he could hope for that she'd soon tire of the joke.
They fell into a comfortable silence, and for a moment, Artemis' hopes rose that this would be the end of their meeting.
However, Holly sobered.
She exhaled. "Artemis, what were you thinking?"
Artemis remained silent, waiting for her to continue.
"Mars?" she said finally, exasperation painting her features.
"Are you telling me that Haven has never considered the possibility of space travel?"
She held up a hand. "We're not doing a question for a question today."
"Fine. My question was an answer, though. Even if the Council didn't say so explicitly, the fact they're sending you to try to glean more information about the program I'm developing tells me that they understand they could stand to benefit from the base."
She snorted. "The only way we benefit from a Mars base is if humanity finally decides to jump ship off this planet."
He looked at her, mulling over his next sentence.
"You do realize that not every new rabbit-hole is the harbinger of a relapse for me, Holly."
Guilt briefly flitted across her features, all too soon replaced with annoyance. "I'm just saying—"
"— and I'm telling you that this is merely a mental exercise," he interrupted her neatly, handing her one of the many folders he had on his desk. "You're more than welcome to go over my notes with Foaly, and I'm sure he'll be able to convince you better than I ever could that my work is clearly in the realm of the theoretical."
She looked doubtful, but she took the folder from him nonetheless.
"I'm sure that by Monday you'll be telling me you're ready for takeoff, though," she said under her breath, flipping through the file.
He cracked a smile in response, the corners of his eyes crinkling up.
"It would likely be Friday at the very earliest, but I appreciate the vote of confidence."
AN:
this could have been alternatively titled: holly watched her friend be grown as a clone in her coworker's lab for a year, and boy, did she not realize the self-titled "teenage criminal mastermind" she'd had the misfortune to befriend was, in fact, a teenager.
tl;dr: I don't think she'd treat him like a child post-resurrection, per se, but I *do* think the clone debacle would drive home 1) how fragile her human friends are in comparison and 2) that for all his brains, Artemis is still quite young in the grand scheme of things, and regardless of his role in facilitating the danger they've been through, the fact he'd nearly died so many times (and did die, ultimately) Would Not Feel Great For Her. Especially when you think of how much smaller + longer lived of a civilization the People are — dying young would be a uniquely distressing concept from their end, I think. Hence, I think for a fair amount of time after he's brought back, Holly would be careful, if that makes sense, with Artemis.