Disclaimer: I don't own Artemis Fowl nor MASH nor the History Channel nor the Hallmark Channel. But if I did... man would I be rich. I actually love MASH. I have like 9 seasons of it on DVD...
To my reviewers: I love you guys so much (in an author-to-reader way), but I'm going to stop individually replying to your lovely reviews. It's because I looked back at the 'Ficlet' update and you had to actually scroll before you could get to the story. I'll probably just answer them in a roundabout way. I love love love emails and private messages, though, so if you want to email/message me go right ahead. I check my email a hundred times a day -cough since I have no life cough- so you'll get a fast reply.
Reece
Reece trudged through the unfamiliar hallways of St Leander's. Guys in black or khaki slacks lounged against their lockers, watching the intruder. Reece halted at the door at the end of the hall. She glanced around, then ducked inside.
"Hi, I'm here for the missed work of Artemis Fowl II," she said in her best 'professional voice', the voice you use when talking to job interviewers or when you are a telephone operator.
"And you are?" The man behind the desk pushed his spectacles up the bridge of his nose and searched for the paper clipped stack of papers.
"Reece Stuart, from St Delia's. He asked me to pick them up for him."
"I see…" He shuffled around some more before turning to look at her. "I can't find the papers; they must have already been picked up. My apologies."
"What? Look again. I'm sure I was the only one who Artemis asked to pick them up."
The man stood, irritated. "Now look, missy, the papers are not here. And you would do well to refrain from being so impetuous with your elders."
"You think I'm being impetuous? You have seen nothing yet. If you-"
"Hi Mister Hall, anything wrong?" A clear voice asked from the doorway.
"No, no, it's fine. I am dealing with it." Mister Hall glared at Reece.
Reece didn't like the way he had said 'dealing with it'. She was not an 'it'. She glared right back. "Look, Mister Hall, I was asked by a sick friend to come pick up his missed work. If I return without it, Artemis will not be-"
"Artemis? As in, Fowl?"
Reece blinked. "Yes…" She turned to look at the man in the doorway. He was probably a senior. He had black hair, golden brown eyes, and a smile that was catching. He crouched down with the ease of a large cat –he was at least six feet tall– and rummaged around in his briefcase before coming up with a paper clipped bundle of papers. He stood, and held them out to Reece.
"I picked these up earlier, since our homeroom teacher asked me to take him his homework. Sorry about the mix-up."
"Oh! It's fine. Thank you," Reece smiled, all charm now that she didn't have to talk to the idiot receptionist. She took the papers and slid them into her own briefcase.
"No, really, it's my fault. How about a coffee or something? On me." He flashed a smile.
"I don't even know your name," Reece laughed.
"It's Samuel. Samuel Ross." He held out his hand. Reece took it with as much dignity as she could muster- his hand completely dwarfed her own.
"Reece Stuart. And actually, I should get going. Thanks anyway," she made a move to leave, but he was blocking the doorway.
"How about a ride then? You don't look old enough to drive."
Reece flushed and shot him a dour look. "Thanks so much."
"It was a compliment!"
"You forgot to warn me."
"But, about the ride…?"
"Fine…"
"Sweet. Mine is the silver Porsche Panamera."
"Right."
Artemis
Artemis sat in a leather armchair in the living room, watching the History channel, of all things. The chair was stuffed with blankets and pillows. A mug of steaming Earl Grey tea, a plate of hot pockets, and the remote were all within reach. Artemis had wallowed there all day, sometimes dozing. Reece had so generously given him her cold. As Artemis sneezed and grabbed a tissue, starting on his third box of Kleenex, he wished she could just as generously take it back.
He was about to doze off again when he heard the key in the lock. He swiftly grabbed his robe and pushed his arms through the sleeves.
"…Shhh, he might be asleep," Artemis heard Reece say.
"Who are you talking to?" Artemis asked. He swiveled around to look at the open front door. Reece strolled in, dumping her briefcase on the kitchen table and shucking her blazer.
"One of your friends," she replied nonchalantly. She turned back toward the door and said, "It's alright; you can come in."
"One of my-?" Artemis demanded. A friend? Here? He watched a tall brunet enter the apartment, and rolled his eyes. Ah. Yes. 'Friend.' Ross was a classmate. Nothing more. "Hello, Ross."
"Hey, Fowl, don't get up. Just dropping in with your homework assignments."
"Yes, I told Reece to pick them up for me…" He shot Reece a look, but turned back to Ross, who hadn't finished speaking.
"Yeah, there was a mix-up, but it's alright now." He leaned against the kitchen island, looking around. "So you guys live together? Why?"
"Long story," Artemis replied, with a tone of finality.
"Samuel, do you want something?" Reece asked. She indicated the refrigerator.
He grinned and tousled his dark hair. "I'll take a rain check on it. I gotta get going. Get well soon, Fowl. Bye Reece." He waggled his fingers at her and left, closing the door behind him.
Artemis turned on Reece. "Why are you bringing random men here? Didn't your mother teach you not to talk to strangers?" He sneered.
"Shut up. He's your classmate; not mine." She rolled her eyes and sat on the couch, grabbing the remote.
"Ah. So, correct me if I'm wrong, because he is a classmate, you brought him home with you. Are you going to bring the rest of my class home as well?"
She didn't answer, deciding to surf the channels instead. She stopped at the Hallmark channel and started to watch an episode of MASH.
"It's polite to answer," Artemis chastised.
"Polite?" Reece snapped her head over to glare at him. "As if you'd know what politeness was! …I refuse to speak to you like this!"
"What do you mean, 'like this?'"
"When you're sick. You are so aggravating. Moreso than usual." She stomped over to her briefcase and took out a package of papers. She tossed them into his lap. Blinking, Artemis looked down at them, trying to decipher the text.
"Your homework. The missed work you asked me to get, remember?" A long pause, then, "You're welcome." Reece grabbed her briefcase and walked to her room, shutting the door soundly.
Artemis growled and put the papers on the coffee table. Yes, he'd lost his temper, in a way. He had acted shamefully toward Reece, and he should apologize. Artemis turned off the television with the remote, and yanked the blankets over his head. Maybe later. He spent the afternoon sulking under the blankets and having day dreams of Samuel Ross guillotined.
Ross: Both Ross and Stuart are very common Scottish last names. Stewart was the royal family's name. I had Reece's name be Stuart, a different spelling, because one, I thought having her be descended from royalty was a little much, and two, because I didn't like how the name looked all together. Reece Stewart. Reece Stuart.
Author's Hype:
Finally sat down and was all 'Okay. Time to write this thing.' I actually wrote half of it during lunch today, because I felt like it. I was in the mood for writing, I guess. So, new character. I had made this excellent profile of Samuel and everything... then my computer blew up. Sort of. Anyways, all my work went kablooey, so this Samuel is completely from scratch. Maybe he'll be cooler because of that. Anyone notice how he looks similar to Artemis? It's on purpose. Yes, Samuel is like a slightly-taller, light brown-eyed version of Artemis. In appearance, at least. We'll see where it goes.
...Usually I write a ton here, but now I can't think of much. Er. My fifteenth birthday came and went, and I want to get my hair cut very short very soon. Think guy-short. Oh, or, like the girl in Hard Candy, that really awesome movie that I saw about a week or two ago, on the night of my birthday (October 8th).
Anyways, see you, and glad to be active again!
Ja ne!