Hey!

Yes, I'm updating! OMG! And you better get yourselves comfy people because this chapter is a BEAST. 7,000 words. Phew.

This chapter was the hardest one to write so far. By FAR. I know it's taken me an age but it does contain a little fan girl service so be happy.

There's also a theme tune to this - This Charming Man by The Smiths - with Tuley playing the part of the 'charming man' because well... he's just so delicious.

REVIEWER FEEDBACK

Kusajishifuktaicho - Might be an idea to actually read the chapter before reviewing it lol!

Ktw18 - Woo! Yes, join the Artemis Senior hate club!

HallelujahTheCreator - Thank you! Your review really made me smile (like this - :D) Hope you like this chapter!

Mr. Woland - I think I answered your review :/... sorry, it was so long ago now I'm can't remember. It's mega long, I know that. Most of your questions about Annie (Is she dead? A ghost? etc.) are answered in the author's notes in an earlier chapter - kind of. The unravelling of her story is, well, a large part of the story so I don't just want to tell people out right, that'd spoil it!

BrazeRancor - I'm glad that you prefer my more 'hardcore' Artemis. He's much more fun to write when twisted.

killerpoison - here's the update! Christ, five months later. Jeez. Didn't realise it was that long lol... Artemis Senior killable? You'll just have to wait and see...

Beckett Simpleton - This update IS within a year :)

hello - I am Me - Epic? D'awwww. I'm re-reading Lord of the Rings at the moment - now THAT'S an epic.

the one who breathes nitrogen - Logical to the point of insanity? Good! exactly what I'm aiming at - Artemis in a nutshell.

Victoria of Memphis - Here's more Tuley! And it's not strange that you missed this chapter. I don't update it often and it gets lost for months at a time under all the swiftly updated fics :/ ...

Mischievous101 - Hmm, I did um and ahh about the whole killing Artemis Senior thing but... it does make for delicious family tension doesn't it?

CESmith372 - Thanks! I always aim to make the next chapter better than the last! It seems disjointed now that Artemis would kill his dad (when thinking of the books) but I think it fits. And I shall show you how as the story goes on :)

Someone - No, there isn't another part to this. It was literally just because I'd taken so long to update.

Baakthat'sthenoiseachickenmakes - Your review still makes me lol. It's so two-sided. Hope this chapter will tip your view into the positive :)

anonymous - Thanks for being that last reviewer to kick me up the arse! It's taken me a long time to write this but... hopefully you'll be happy.

Disclaimer - I don't own Artemis Fowl *sigh*.

WARNING - SAUCINESS AHEAD.

'I shan't beg for it.'

'I'm terribly sorry, Art. I'm afraid you're going to have to...'

'I am home now, Tuley, and safe. I am, however, also in need of a favour.'

'A favour?' purred the young heir, and Artemis could almost hear his grin. 'What kind of a favour...?'

Chapter Eight - This Charming Man

Artemis checked his watch for the eighth time that minute and 13:36 flashed back at him. He sighed; his visitor was officially late.

It was a cold day, the coldest day of winter so far, and Artemis was hardly in the mood to be out among the elements. Nevertheless, there he was, waiting under a low stone archway that offered him little protection from the howling winds. He tucked his chin further beneath the collar of his raincoat and dug his hands into his pockets.

Across the courtyard he could see into the school canteen, where almost every student except himself was sitting down to a light gourmet lunch. He watched them through the windows, their coats slung over the backs of their chairs, their cheeks bright with the warmth granted by €4,000-a-term central heating. His stomach gurgled.

'Oh, do shut up,' he muttered.

There was a sudden roar from the far side of the teacher's car park.

A Porsche Cayman R in Peridot Metallic had entered through the school's main gates, its six-cylinder engine growling like a panther before the strike. It wound its way up the gravel and circled the driveway in one smooth turn, coming to a halt just metres from where Artemis was stood. A tinted window sank down into the door revealing a familiar figure.

'I do apologise, Art,' drawled Tuley Brannagh, his eyes hidden behind a pair of large designer sunglasses. 'An issue arose this morning that I was required to deal with. It simply couldn'twait.'

'You should have called,' snapped Artemis as the door opened and Tuley stepped smoothly from the car, 'I have been waiting out here for the past forty minutes.' The wind blew their hair and jackets every which way and Artemis caught the scent of something familiar in the air. 'What's that smell?'

'Oh, you'll just have to excuse that,' said Tuley lightly, reaching out an arm and draping it over the shorter boy's shoulders. 'It was a quite a long drive from Kilcullen, and I haven't had the chance to remove the issue from the boot...'

Artemis opened the door.

'Here,' said the fifteen year old. 'This will do.'

Tuley brushed past him and surveyed the space through the gloom. He took in the the blackboard, the wooden teacher's desk, the lopsided bookshelves laden with dusty texts, and curled his lip with distaste.

'I hate classrooms.'

Artemis closed the door behind him.

'I'm not particularly fond of them myself,' he said, feeling the stippled wall for a light switch, 'but needs must. This is the old wing and no one has taught here for years. We are unlikely to be disturbed.'

The lights sputtered to life above them.

Tuley sat back on the edge of a desk. 'I missed you at the party, Art. I do wish you hadn't had to go rushing off like that. And just when I thought things were going so well. Volga was quite put out. You know, I think she might have a thing for you.'

'Do you really?'

'Why of course. Who doesn't?'

Artemis mounted the platform at the front of the class and Tuley watched him closely.

'I had to convene with my father,' said Artemis.

'On what matter?'

'The meeting he had attended.'

'And what did he say?'

'He... he told me to mind my own business.'

Tuley's laugh was deadened by mildewed walls.

'"To mind your own business"? My, my, Art. You have lost your touch.'

'It was nothing to do with touch,' snapped Artemis, his expression soured. 'He simply wishes for me not to be involved. I offered him my services but... he refused.'

'Hmm. So that's why I'm here. Interesting...'

Artemis's brow contracted. 'I beg your pardon?'

Tuley sighed. 'Come now, Art,' he said, sliding down from the desk. 'I knew this was never a social summons. Your father refused you information, information that I happen to possess. You have brought me here in order to obtain it.'

For a moment there was silence.

'And will I?'

'Will you what?'

'Obtain it?'

Tuley shrugged lightly. 'You may,' he drawled. 'It really depends. I know I shouldn't tell you but...for some reason granting you the forbidden is so very tempting.'

Artemis straightened slowly to his full height.

'Then why not indulge yourself?'

'Well as I said, I don't think I should. If your father has told you "no" then why should I be the one to say "yes"?'

With eyes smothered by shadow, Artemis descended the platform, stepping into the flickering glare of the strip-lights. He stopped mere inches from the taller boy.

'I shan't beg for it, Tuley.'

Tuley sighed deeply.

'I'm terribly sorry, Art,' he said, reaching out a hand and winding it around the boy's silken neck-tie, 'but I'm afraid you're going to have to...'

Artemis Fowl had never been the most tactile of children. He wasn't one for casual hugs, or quick little pecks on the cheek or the lips. He preferred to remain untouched, and thus, untouchable.

Unless it served a purpose.

An embrace from his mother had always acted as a comfort to the woman. It caused her to put aside her usual, irksome, maternal concern for just a few short seconds. Or, if done correctly, for the next few hours as she thought about her son and how she supposed he really did love her despite all outward appearances. An embrace from Father was dangerous ground. It was only ever done as a show for his mother, or at least it was in the old days. Artemis Senior would lower his arms and wrap them stiffly around his only son and the little Artemis would always be tempted to squeeze back as hard as he could. But no, that would have been inappropriate. And so they would break away much too soon, and Angeline's eyes would fill with happy tears - the desired effect achieved.

Touch was manipulation. Simple, strategic actions executed in order to gain something. Artemis had sometimes wondered what his father had needed on the night of his conception. Or indeed, what his mother had needed. For a long time he had struggled to come to an answer.

Tuley's hand pulled to the side and Artemis felt the firm, but familiar, pressure of silk sliding free from his collar.

'How many people, Tuley?'

'Hmm?'

'At the meeting, how many were in attendance?'

'Well there was my mother...' - He slipped his hands beneath Artemis's jacket - 'Volga's mother, your father,' – spread the lapels apart - 'The Baron, Callum Shinner,' – and pushed the blazer back over the boy's shoulders - 'a representative for some Scottish gentlemen who has apparently been making a killing in the drugs trade, and... Oh dear, I can't quite remember who else...'

Artemis shrugged against the shoulders of his blazer, causing it to slip from his arms to the dusty floor.

'Tell me, Tuley.'

The assassin sighed and dragged the boy to him. 'There were another two men, but my mother didn't recognise them. They both needed translators.'

'And what of The Neck?'

Tuley's eyes strayed to the soft camber of Artemis's throat. 'Hmm... What indeed...'

The Fowl Heir frowned.

He's getting distracted.

He reached his long fingers behind Tuley's head and laced them into his hair. The taller boy purred appreciatively until the fingers tightened and his head was pulled sharply back.

Tuley hissed angrily but Artemis's grip was unrelenting. 'What of The Neck, Tuley?'

Tuley grimaced. 'He wasn't present. The Baron had set up a video screen and they spoke through live conference.'

'And did he show his face?'

'No, the picture was in shadow. All they saw was a silhouette.'

Artemis relaxed his grip.

Tuley was quick to take advantage, reaching his hands around the other boy's waist and yanking him back flush to his body. Breath, hot and steady, burned against Artemis's neck.

'Tuley-'

'Shut up, please.'

Hard lips pressed to the skin below Artemis's ear and the boy's breath came short.

'I don't want to talk,' he hissed, fingers clenching against Artemis's hips, 'I don't want to play.' With one sharp movement, he twisted, slamming the smaller boy up against a table. 'I just want you. Over this desk. Preferably without protest.'

Artemis glared back over his shoulder. 'Preferably?'

Tuley's hips grinded forward and Artemis gasped, his hands clenching to the wood. 'Yes. Preferably.'

Compose yourself, he thought as the taller boy adjusted himself, his mouth trailing the skin of Artemis's neck. You need to get those answers.

Artemis braced his hands against the desk and turned.

'What did The Neck say?' he demanded, his face inches from the other boy's own.

'Why do you care, Art?'

'Because it is important.'

'Your father has dealt with it. Why worry?'

Artemis's mouth tightened.

'Because you don't trust him? Is that it?'

'No.'

Tuley's head dove forward.

'I think it is,' he whispered, his cheek brushed against Artemis's own. 'I think you don't trust him, but simply can't admit it... not even to yourself.'

Artemis just stood there.

A thin tongue trailed slowly around the rim of his ear. The smaller boy shivered, clenched a hand around Tuley's collar.

'Tuley, just tell me.'

The taller boy leant back slightly, smiling at him in a most self-satisfied way. 'Alright,' he said, 'if you insist. At the meeting The Neck offered each of the attendants a place in his organisation. He explained that it was a growing enterprise, but that the rewards were already handsome. With their rich additions to 'The Family', as he called it, they would soon have the whole world dancing to their tune. The Scottish gentlemen asked under what terms they would be joining him- as associates, or underlings? The Neck replied underlings. My mother asked him if he knew who they were and he replied that he did. Your father said he couldn't possibly, because if he had he wouldn't have wasted their time bringing them there to offer them positions of servitude. The Neck asked that they take his proposal seriously, that there would be repercussions if they didn't. One of the Asian gentlemen asked how they could possibly take him seriously. He argued that The Neck was basically an unknown: just a recent upstart throwing his weight around in the excitement of a few lucky successes. Volga's mother suggested they close the discussion and leave before any more of their time could be squandered. The Baron looked reluctant, but he moved to close the connection. The Neck told them that they had one last chance to accept him, or else accept the consequences. Callum Shinner reached over and slammed the screen down. They then left.'

There was silence. Artemis's mind was burning behind his brow, churning over every word he'd heard.

They refused. They all refused.

Strong fingers pulled at his wrists.

The whole room was practically laughing at him.

They were firm but gentle, guiding Artemis's hands forward.

And Father. He was with them. Didn't The Neck know who he was? How dare he waste my father's time?

'Art...' called Tuley, 'Art…?'

Howdarehe assume he would join him?

'Artemis..?'

My father is a man alone.

'Artemis.'

Not someone to be threatened or played with.

He snapped back Artemis's belt buckle and the smaller boy stiffened.

'Well,' whispered Tuley, 'that certainly seems to have regained your attention.'

Artemis snarled. 'No, Tuley.'

'Oh, Art. Don't be silly.' He wrenched the leather sideways, stripping it away with one clean motion.

Artemis grabbed the end just as it was whipping from his waist. He clung on, despite the sting in his palm.

'Tuley, stop it.'

'No.'

'Tuley-'

A thin finger shot up and pressed to his lips.

'Not. Another. Word.'

The finger drifted down, bisecting the pressed white cotton of Artemis's shirt. When it reached his trouser line, it curled into a gap and teased the shirt slowly loose. Artemis looked directly into his eyes.

'Tuley...'

The other boy ignored him. 'I'm going to kiss you now and I want you to kiss me back.'

'Tuley, I-'

'Hush...'

He was coming closer. Much closer. Artemis watched, his eyes widening, his back bending over the desk...

Too close.

Artemis struck out, punching both hands deep into the other boy's stomach. Tuley slammed back. There was a piercing scrape and a series of bangs as the nearest tables were sent tumbling in a melee of metal and legs.

'What are you playing at?' roared Tuley, scrabbling to regain his balance.

Artemis just looked at him, the desk-edge cutting cruelly into the new bruises at the small of his back.

The taller boy struggled upright. His jacket had fallen open and Artemis could see the holster of his compact berretta.

'Damn it, Fowl,' he snapped. 'What is wrong with you?'

'I'm...I'm sorry.'

'And so you fucking should be! I've got to be in Nice by ten tonight for a mafia job. How do you think I'll fare with my back in pieces?' Tuley's cheeks had flushed scarlet. 'Well?'

Artemis didn't answer.

He just took two steps forward and dragged the assassin down by his collar.

Tuley's eyes widened as lips hit against his. The smaller boy's hands clutched to his jacket, pulling him closer, pulling him tight. He broke off, panting.

'I'm... sorry,' gasped Artemis.

Both boys stared at each other.

What am I doing?thought Artemis, fingers still clenched around Tuley's lapel. I've never wanted this. I've never needed this.

The blood pulsed in his fingertips.

You've never needed this more in your entire life.

Both boys exploded forward at the same time.

Tuley's excess height set them off-balance, slamming them sideways into a desk. Neither boy much cared – each was too busy gasping and gripping for the other. Tuley's jacket was lost in a flurry of West-country tweed and Artemis's shirt followed quickly after.

'If this is... "sorry",' panted Tuley, his hands roving greedily over the newly exposed flesh, 'I'd just love... to see "thank you".'

The smaller boy didn't answer, one arm was hooked around Tuley's neck, the other reaching blindly behind him. His palm met with cold wall and Tuley slammed him against it.

'Too hard,' protested the teenager before his mouth was distracted by other things.

Tuley groaned, apparently in concurrence, and clenched his hand deeper into Artemis's hair. Artemis felt for the fingers splayed across his navel and gripped them with his own.

Somewhere, in a place much further than either boy could be bothered to contemplate, a bell had begun to ring. It was loud and authoritative, accompanied by the deep, echoing thunder of a thousand teenagers finished with their last lesson of the day.

'You shouldn't have come to that party,' whispered Tuley. 'You're all I've thought of for days.'

'Really?' asked Artemis. 'How very tiresome.'

His head tilted and there was silence - silence but for the pounding clamour of the students below them and the fierce, hungry movements of skin against skin.

Butler flicked the stick at the side of the steering wheel sending the already thrashing window-wipers into overdrive. The rain was pouring down the windscreen, pooling and dancing at the top of the glass. Butler frowned. It was at times like this that he wished he were a little shorter, or at least that Land Rover made a range of vehicles suitable for seven foot drivers.

He checked the clock on the dashboard. 15:20 flashed back. He was early. Artemis wouldn't mind, he was sure. He was usually the first out of the school gates at the end of the day, wrenching the landy's door open before it had even come to a proper stop.

The manservant parked the jeep in the teacher's car-park and killed the ignition. There was silence but for the drum of the rain on the roof.

He sighed wearily.

Well here I am again, just waiting for him...

He closed his eyes, and rested his head back against the seat prop.

'Butler, would you mind joining me for a moment? I have something I wish to discuss.'

Butler frowned as the unwelcome memory of Saturday night rose to the forefront of his mind. It had been a strange evening. First the party, then Artemis' sudden rush to leave it, and then the tight, unmentionable tension of the car journey home. Butler hadn't been able to hear much of Artemis and his father's conversation from his position in the driver's seat, but he could tell there had been an edge to it. He had left them to it, parked the Bentley in its customary space in the garage, and begun his nightly routine of checks and locks.

He had visited Artemis before retiring.

'What happened tonight?'

'It is late. Goodnight, Butler.'

'Artemis-'

'Goodnight, Butler.'

The door had closed in his face. The manservant had sighed, stared at the wood for a moment more before turning and walking back up the corridor. On the second floor a door had opened.

'Butler,' said Artemis Senior, a darkened shadow in the light then spilling into the corridor. 'Would you mind joining me for a moment? I have something I wish to discuss.'

The manservant had ignored his sudden feeling of foreboding and followed the elder man into the room. It was an old office stuffed with discarded fittings and ill-suited furniture. Artemis Senior had gestured casually to a spindly dining chair but Butler had shaken his head.

'I'd rather stand, sir.'

Artemis Senior had looked at him, for a moment almost as if seeing someone else, then slowly taken his own seat behind the desk. 'As you will...'

The room had fallen silent. Butler had taken his chance to scan the room a little closer and noticed a dark stain in the pile of the carpet.

'I wish to discuss my son, Butler.'

The manservant's attention had instantly been diverted. 'Artemis?'

'Hmm. I have been meaning to talk to you about him for quite some time now but...never seem to have found the right moment.'

A clock had struck twice from somewhere deep within the manor.

'What is it you wished to talk about, sir?'

'I...' Artemis Senior had appeared to hesitate. 'I am concerned, Butler.'

'Concerned?'

'Yes. I have received information lately... information that has led me to believe that my son is still involved in a criminal life.'

Butler's brow had contracted. 'What?'

There was silence - silence but for the clanking of cooling pipes on the floors above.

'I know you are surprised,' sighed Artemis Senior. 'I was at first. Now, I admit, I am merely disappointed...'

'What information?'

'Excuse me?'

'You said you had received information. What information?'

The elder Fowl's lips had twitched.

'A confession. I shan't tell you exactly what passed between Artemis and I in this room tonight, but he has confessed to me his renewed association with certain... unfavourable individuals. He has been looking up old contacts, reforming old connections. He met with a few of them tonight, at the Baron's.'

'No,' said Butler, shaking his head emphatically. 'He wouldn't.'

Artemis Senior had cocked a thin eyebrow. 'Oh?'

'With all due respect, sir, Artemis wouldn't dare go back to his old ways. He has changed these last few years. He knows too much is at stake: his family, his friends.'

'Then why would he tell me he has?'

The manservant's frown had deepened. 'I don't know, sir. All I do know is that there must be an explanation - something with a positive motive. '

'You truly believe that?'

'Yes,' said Butler. 'I do.'

Artemis Senior had snorted softly.

'You are close to him, Butler, I can tell. But you still have much to learn about my son. This isn't the first time he has managed to hide his misdeeds from you and I'd be willing to bet that it isn't even the hundredth. It certainly won't be the last. The boy is an expert in deceit...'

The bodyguard had remained silent.

'I wish you to keep an eye on him,' continued Artemis Senior, 'and inform me if he does anything else out of the ordinary. Any meetings, any strange phone calls. Do you understand?'

Butler had stared hard at the wall.

'I said, do you understand?'

'Yes.' The word had been cold, forced.

The elder man had smiled. 'Good, then you may leave.'

Butler's walk back to his ground-floor room had never felt longer. A thousand thoughts and feelings had battered at his mind. The strongest was anger.

He is meant to be Artemis's father. What is he doing, lecturing me on a son he has hardly known? And what is he doing ordering me to spy on him? And what is Artemis doing meeting with his old contacts! He promised he'd left all that behind!

Butler's mind had flown briefly back to their time spent underground, to the heart-ache they had both experienced as a consequence of Artemis' therapy.

No. He has changed. He wouldn't dare go back to his old ways. Not after everything. You'll just have to go and talk to him. Artemis will have an explanation.

'He'd better,' muttered Butler.

He had reached his door, swiped his key-card against the lock, and gone inside.

Butler opened his eyes to the sound of a bell.

Class after class was pouring out from the school's main entrance. The girls squealed as their shoes met with puddles and the boys yelled, swore, jumped, splashed. Play fights broke out; umbrellas were brandished like rapiers, bags used as rams... but still no sign of Artemis.

Butler pulled out his phone and held it to his ear. The dial tone switched instantly to voicemail.

'You have reached the phone of Artemis Fowl II-'

The manservant snapped it shut. He swung open the driver's door and stepped out into the rain.

Artemis pulled back, his need for oxygen forcing his head back against the concrete of the wall.

'Y'okay?' murmured Tuley, a little short of breath himself.

Artemis nodded. 'Yes.'

He closed their eyes, feeling their chests heave in rhythm.

'Then... may I suggest...' Tuley licked his lips. 'That we relocate to a more... apposite location..?'

Artemis looked at him.

And noticed the clock over his right shoulder.

He baulked.

'Artemis?' asked Tuley concerned. 'What's wrong?'

Artemis ignored him, hands scrabbling at the pockets of the taller boy's trousers. Tuley laughed, bemused, raising his hands above his head as his hips were patted and pulled.

Artemis finally yanked out a phone and flashed up the time.

'Damn it.'

'What is it?'

'I need to go.'

'What? Now?'

'Yes. Now.'

He broke free from the wall and snatched his shirt up from the floor, slinging the cotton over his shoulders and buttoning his torso from sight.

'Cufflinks,' demanded the boy. 'Where are my cufflinks?'

Tuley smirked. 'Here.'

Artemis snatched the pair from Tuley's palm, his hands shaking slightly as he pinched them into his sleeves.

'Jacket?'

'There.'

Artemis hurried to where Tuley was pointing and yanked the blazer up over his arms. He spotted his belt on the floor a few feet away and scooped it up. Whilst he finished slipping the leather back through the loops he scanned the floor for the last discarded article...

Tuley coughed softly. 'Looking for this?'

Artemis looked round.

Tuley was dangling the tie teasingly from his right hand, swaying it gently like a silken pendulum.

'Give it to me,' demanded Artemis, conscious of the seconds ticking by. 'Seriously, Tuley, I need to leave.'

Tuley tipped his head to one side, pouting shamelessly. 'Why?'

Artemis made to snatch the tie from him but Tuley quickly held it out of reach. 'Ah, ah, ah,' he sang, shaking a long finger at the smaller boy. 'I asked you a question...'

'One to which you already know the answer.'

'Not ashamed are you, Art?'

'Ashamed?'

'Hmm, of fraternising with a known criminal, seducing me like you did... And just when you'd been so good.'

Tuley laughed nastily.

Artemis turned from him, grabbed his satchel up from the floor and swiftly left the classroom.

Tuley called after him. 'Art!'

The boy didn't glance back. The corridor was long and dark with the storm outside and his footsteps kept time with the thunder. He cursed himself inwardly.

What were you doing? How could you have let yourself get so involved?

He burst through the mid-corridor fire doors, slamming them both back against the walls. Tuley's wide footfalls followed close behind him.

'Art-!'

A hand yanked at his sleeve. Artemis wrenched his arm away but the fingers clamped down hard on his forearm. He stopped mid-step, forced to face his capturer.

'What?' demanded Artemis. 'What do you want?'

Tuley's face was once again inches from Artemis's own. 'I'd have thought that was obvious by now.'

Artemis' jaw tightened. He grasped at Tuley's hand, attempting to rip the fingers from his arm. Tuley remained silent as he struggled.

'Tuley!' burst Artemis, after a few more seconds of futile effort. 'Just let me go!' He dug his nails into the gap between his skin, gasping in frustration . 'Tuley!'

'Why do you try so hard, Art?'

Artemis looked up. 'What?'

'Just give in to it. Indulge yourself.'

'You are being ridiculous.'

'Am I?'

'Yes. You are.'

Tuley's fingers slackened just as Artemis gave another yank of his arm. The teenager flew backwards, unbalanced, and landed in a heap at the base of the corridor wall.

Tuley smirked. 'Now who's the ridiculous one?'

Artemis's face flushed red. He braced his back against the concrete ready to lift himself when a hand suddenly appeared in his field of vision.

'Here,' said Tuley. 'Let me help you.'

Artemis glared at him. 'Don't touch me. '

'Must we go through this again?'

'Through what again?'

'This little act of yours! The one where you pretend not to want me for the next thirty seconds until, in a sudden burst of desperate passion, you finally succumb to your overwhelming and completely understandable need for me and proceed to ravish my wanton body! It is getting repetitive and frankly tiresome.'

Artemis spluttered. 'Wanton body?'

Tuley raised a thin eyebrow. 'Yes, what about it?'

'What indeed!'

Artemis snorted. There was a pause, a hesitation, before he thrust his hand upwards.

Tuley grabbed it and hauled the boy to his feet.

'Wanton body...' muttered Artemis as he straightened. 'Honestly...'

Tuley brought the hand to his mouth and kissed the skin above Artemis's knuckles. 'Honestly.'

The boy sobered at the touch.

'I can't, Tuley,' he said softly.

'Why?'

'You know why.'

'I am not asking for the world, Art. I am only asking for you, for one night.'

'It isn't that simple.'

'I beg to differ. I have a car downstairs just waiting to whisk us away to wherever we so desire...'

'Tuley, I can't just-'

'Why ponder life's complexity when the leather runs smooth on the passenger seat?'

Artemis frowned but didn't struggle as Tuley drew him nearer.

'Come with me,' whispered the taller boy. 'Don't think, just come.'

Artemis's breath was uneven. 'Tuley I-'

'Artemis.'

Both their heads snapped up.

Domovoi Butler was stood at the end of the corridor, his darkened overcoat dripping water slowly to the floor. His black eyes were burning.

'Terribly sorry,' he said, in a voice as deep and dangerous as the thunder. 'Not interrupting anything, am I?'

Holly woke to the squawk of her intercom.

'Holly? Holly!'

She breathed in sharply and raised both hands to her face.

'Holly, come on! I know you're in there!'

Who the d'arvit is that?

'Holly, it's Foaly!'

Oh.

She staggered up and pressed the button on the wall-communicator.

'What d'you want, Foaly?'

The centaur's face appeared in the tiny screen.

'I want to talk, Holly,' he said, his long face even wearier and more stressed than usual. 'I want to talk to you and... and maybe apologise.'

The elf frowned.

Apologise for what?

Then last night's events caught up with her; the flight to Fowl Manor, the body-scan of the clearing... her abrupt dismissal from Recon.

She closed her eyes against the sudden barrage of memory.

'Holly, please!' begged Foaly. 'Just let me up.'

Her limp fist knocked against the release button and Foaly's face disappeared from her screen. She walked away, dimly noticing the sounds of Foaly's hooves as he rushed up the three flights to her apartment. The door burst open. Holly just looked at him, her thin arms slack at her sides.

'If you've come to gloat,' she said lowly, 'go ahead. You were right.'

Foaly's face fell. 'I didn't come for that. I came to see if you were alright.'

'Oh, I'm fine, Foaly. Just magnificent...'

The centaur winced. 'I'm so sorry, Holly.'

'So am I, Foaly.'

'I did try to warn you Trouble was coming! I left you plenty of messages!'

Holly's shoulders hardened for a second but then she released them. Foaly fidgeted, pulling at the hem of his jacket.

'Holly.'

'What?'

'I... I am sorry.'

Holly considered this and then nodded. 'I know. I just... can we not talk about it? Do you want a coffee or something?'

The centaur frowned but nodded. 'Yeah. That'd be good.'

He stepped back and pushed shut the door of the apartment, glancing about the space around him. It was a single room, modest but not undersized, with an open-plan living room and a kitchen that ran the full length of the back wall. The sofa-bed, still unfolded and unmade, sat in a slight depression in the floor, accompanied by a small armchair, an out-moded media centre and a coffee table scattered with papers and leftover take-out cartons. At the far end of the room was a door, slightly ajar, that Foaly assumed led to the water-room. The slight breeze issuing from the narrow gap confirmed it.

Foaly jumped slightly as the tinkling of a spoon against porcelain hit his ears. Holly stepped down into her living room and handed him a steaming cup. The centaur accepted it gratefully.

'Thank you.'

'You're welcome.'

'Nice mugs,' commented Foaly after a few moments silence, 'they're a good size.'

Holly nodded. 'Artemis sent them to me. Demitasse cups. Bought by his mother in Sicily apparently. He thought they would fit my hands.'

Foaly's composure broke and he dropped his cup to the table. 'Holly, they can't dismiss you!' he burst. 'They just can't! Not after all you've done! How many times have you saved Haven? Dozens! I mean, who was responsible for the entire demon race making it back to Earth? You were! And after all you did in the Goblin uprising, what with Opal and that- that head-case Cudgeon! And when Artemis lost the cube thing to that bunch of psychotic, mob-based Chicagoans! You saved us all, Holly! They won't dismiss just because of a little skit to the surface... surely.'

Holly shook her head. 'It doesn't matter, Foaly. I've crossed the line. You should have seen Trouble's face.'

The centaur grimaced. 'I suppose he can't have been too happy about the going-to-see-Artemis excuse.'

Holly's lips twitched a little at that. 'No, not really.'

'It...It was the only thing I could think of to tell him.'

The elf sighed and sat down on her futon. 'It's alright. He would have assumed it was Artemis anyway. It was the truth after all...'

Foaly looked determinedly at the coffee table, pretending to scrutinise the scarce remains of a locust chow mein. 'So,' he said hesitantly, 'did you, erm, did you find anything in the clearing?'

Holly's mind flew back to the moment when she'd crouched in the dust, her face pressed close to the scanning column.

'No,' she whispered. 'There was nothing.'

Foaly smiled slightly. 'Well at least that's something. We can leave all this dream nonsense behind.'

Holly's eyes looked straight ahead. 'No, we can't.'

Foaly's expression would have been comic if it weren't for the seriousness of her comment.

'Um, I think we kind of can, Holly. Or at least I think we can; now we know that Arty's dad hasn't actually been planting people.'

She stood as he spoke and began to pace.

'But it doesn't make sense,' she muttered. 'Why would she show me the burials if they didn't exist?'

'We've been over this, Holly.'

'Could the bodies have been moved?'

'No, because they're dream bodies, and dream bodies don't exist.'

'And... and who will be the new ones?'

Foaly froze. 'What?'

The elf stopped pacing.

'Annie, she... she told me not to worry because... because there would soon be plenty of bodies for me to find...'

Foaly's face had turned deathly white. 'Holly. You're scaring me.'

'I'm scaring you?' she scoffed. 'I'm scaring you? How do you think I feel, Foaly?'

She laughed, piercingly, almost hysterically. Her friend flinched.

'You're not acting like yourself, Holly. You need help. We need to get you to a doctor.'

'And they'll do what, Foaly? Tell me I'm wrong? That I'm mad? I already know how mad this is, Foaly!'

The centaur tried to quell the panic inside him.

'You're not mad, Holly,' he said as calmly as he could. 'You're just confused. Twenty minutes with Doctor Argon and you'll be good as new.'

'Argon? I don't think Argon could handle this, Foaly. Orion's got nothing on Annie.'

She turned sharply away from him and walked the few short steps to her kitchen. Foaly watched as she grabbed another demitasse from a cupboard and filled it with water. She gulped it back.

'No,' she gasped, slamming the cup to the worktop. 'I don't need a doctor. I just need to go back to sleep.'

'Sleep?'

Holly nodded. 'So I can see more of the dreams. He's getting older in every one, Foaly. It shouldn't be too long before I catch up with our time. Artemis was ten is the last one and he's only fifteen now.'

'The last one?'

'The most recent one.'

'And... and what happened in it?'

'Artemis told Annie about the Fowl Star and how it was going to be blown up. He knew months in advance that his father might die but decided he wanted him dead.'

Foaly's expression was mutinous.

'WOULD YOU JUST LISTEN TO YOURSELF?' he exploded. 'ARTEMIS, KILL HIS FATHER? HE KIDNAPPED YOU JUST TO FUND THE SEARCH PARTIES! HE FOUGHT WITH GOBLINS JUST TO GET HELP WITH THE RESCUE ATTEMPT!'

Holly felt colour flood her face. 'I know, Foaly.'

'THEN WHAT ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT? WHY ARE YOU STILL BELIEVING THIS?'

'BECAUSE IT'S TRUE!' screamed Holly.

The centaur staggered back. He had never heard that voice before. It had come from Holly and yet it hadn't sounded like her. It had sounded younger, teenage almost. Human.

Holly had clapped a hand to her mouth, her eyes wide with horror.

'Annie,' she gasped through her fingers. 'Oh, Gods, Annie!'

Foaly shook his head, moving swiftly to the door.

Holly staggered forward. 'Foaly-!'

'I'm going to get you some help,' he said firmly, the hand that gripped the latch behind him shaking against the metal. 'Just stay in this room. Don't leave.'

Then he was gone.

For a long moment Holly just stood there. Then slowly she took a breath.

Calm, she told herself, remain calm.

She breathed again, and again, each intake beginning to sound more and more like a sob. She walked down into her living room and crawled onto the outstretched bed, pushing her face into the rumpled sheets.

You're not mad, she told herself. You're not mad.

And she kept telling herself that until she finally fell asleep.

Annie looked at her.

'You're definitely not mad, Holly,' she said. 'Believe me, I would know.'

Holly felt lost, helpless.

'But I must be. How else could I not have found the bodies?'

The girl frowned sympathetically then shrugged.

'I've already told you, Holly, there'll soon be plenty for everyone.'

The world faded.

Holly found herself in a bedroom, a familiar and impeccable bedroom. The four-poster bed was to her right, and sat in the centre was a dark-haired, pale-skinned boy. He had his legs crossed, and each hand was laid loosely palm-up on his knees. As the elf watched, the child took steady breaths in through his nose then out his open mouth, lids fluttering over closed eyes.

The window had been left open and outside the day was steely with clouds. It wasn't raining, but by the dark swell under the belly of each aerial behemoth, it looked like it soon would be. The wind flapping at the velveteen curtains was icy to the flesh.

Suddenly a face appeared at the window.

It was small and its expression mischievous. The narrowed eyes quickly surveyed the room inside before dropping again from sight. Holly looked to the figure on the bed but the boy hadn't stirred.

The face surfaced again and this time a pair of hands grasped at the glossy window sill. The hands pulled, levering an entire body into the room, all without so much as a creak to give their presence away.

The boy still didn't move.

The figure on the windowsill slid a rucksack from their back, carefully placing it down onto the carpet. They then set down their own foot all the while warily watching the meditating child. Once one foot was grounded they set down the second, braced against the wooden ledge with the heels of both palms. Stability achieved, they let go of the shelf, and began to creep towards the four poster.

With less noise than a dead panther the figure put a foot up on the bed's thick bottom-board, and with the help of one the antique posts, levered themselves up into a standing position. They now stood silently above the boy on the bed, watching the oblivious child with a mixture of smugness and wicked delight.

Very carefully the figure crouched down onto the wood, and with one hand still holding to the bed post, began to lean their body towards the boy in the centre. Slowly the figure's face grew closer to the child's, stopping once it was only an inch or two away. Then, being careful not to breathe, the intruder poked out a thin, pointy tongue... and pressed it firmly to the tip of the boy's nose.

'AGH!'

Artemis Fowl reared backwards and fell promptly off the side of the bed. Annie Shinner collapsed into the covers.

'Oh my God!' she gasped; her eyes closed and tears creeping over her cheeks. 'Your face! Your feckin face!'

Artemis scowled up at her from his spot on the carpet.

'That wasn't funny,' he growled.

'You're right,' agreed Annie, her lips twitching. 'It was hilarious!'

She flopped back again, clutching her stomach as her body curled with laughter. Artemis clambered back on top of his sheets, giving her a vengeful shove so that she rolled to the very edge of the mattress. Her hand shot out and she clung to his wrist, half her back already headed to the floor.

She grinned up at him. 'If I go, you go!'

The boy glared at her before wrenching his arm back, pulling her up with it. Annie laughed and propelled herself further than his strength could ever have managed, sending her crashing into him.

'Annie!' protested the boy, his voice muffled from beneath her. 'Get off!'

The boy kicked and rolled, and the girl gave as good as she got, both of them destroying any semblance of neatness the bed's arrangement had held. They may have been the same size, but Annie had developed technique, easily sending Artemis's head again and again into the mattress. Eventually, she took pity on her victim and flopped lazily over him to rest at his side. They both lay staring up at the ceiling, panting.

After a few breathless moments Annie turned her face towards him. She blinked.

'What the feck are you wearing?'

Artemis glanced briefly down at his torso before returning his eyes to the fresco.

'A suit.'

'Why?'

'Because it suits me.'

'My sides are cracking, really they are. Who died?'

'This suit is navy. I believe that blackis the colour traditionally worn at funerals.'

'Whatever. You look a prize eejit.'

'Charming.'

'No, seriously, you look like you're about to appear in the world's most boring production of Bugsy Malone.' She sat up a pushed her fingers at his hair. 'And what the fuck is in your hair? It feels like you've varnished it.'

He slapped her hand away.

'I am dressing seriously in order to be taken seriously.'

She snorted. 'Classic.'

Artemis scowled at her. 'Like you can talk,' he said nastily. 'Hair like a rat's nest, dressed in a fifth-hand pair of tracksuit-bottoms and a t-shirt emblazoned with a slogan you can't even read.'

Annie hands curled into fists. 'I can read it,' she hissed.

'Go on then.'

She stretched the hem of her t-shirt out and squinted down at her chest.

'It's upside-down,' she said. 'Of course I can't read it if it's upside-down.'

'Then I'll write it out for you.'

Artemis reached to his bedside cabinet and snatched up a moleskin notebook. With large, even letters he copied out the word.

'There,' said the boy smartly. 'Read it now.'

Annie got up onto her knees, frowning in concentration.

'The first letter is... is a "ruh", then a double "ah"-'

'"Eh"'

'What?'

'It's a double "eh", which makes an "ee" sound.'

'Right, and the next letter is a "buh" then an "O", then a "cah"-'

'"Kuh"'

'"Kuh". So ruhee...ruh-ee-buh- Reebok! Ha!' crowed Annie, flinging the notepad across the room. 'I told you I could do it!'

The boy shrugged. 'No-one would have bet against you.'

She slumped back onto the bed.

'I know you just distracted me,' she said to the ceiling, 'but we can talk about the psychological issues of your Daddy-clone act later. I need to know about Morocco.'

Artemis's brow furrowed. 'What?'

She snorted impatiently and slung her leg over the boy beside her, levering herself up so she sat perched on his stomach.

'You know what,' she said, her long hair brushing his cheeks.

'I assure you I don't.'

He twisted and she was slammed sideways into the king sized mattress. They faced each other on the blankets, Annie's thin legs still gripping his hips.

'You were in Morocco five days ago and you're telling me you don't know what I'm on about?'

'If you mean the lemur-'

She hefted herself on top of him again, pinning his shoulders with her hands. 'No, I don't mean the lemur. You'd told me you'd stolen a lemur.'

Artemis was getting impatient.

'Well what then?'

She shoved her face down to his.

'You never told me you'd stolen a fairy.'

Ooooooooh. Sorry, I'm so cruel. I know that chapter has the two of the worse cliff hangers I've ever put in this story.

Next chapter continues the Tuley/Arty/Butler thread and actually slips into canon (OMG) as in, the dreams catch up with the books :D But told (as always) from a different angle...

Please review! They're not wasted! I value your opinions and they do affect updates! Also, I shall respond to every single one. I'm going to start answering signed ones directly and anonymous ones at the tops of chapters, just because I should have done it that way months ago but I'm just so damn old-school.

So, go on. Tell the purple box your thoughts...