Disclaimer: I do not own Artemis Fowl, as Eoin Colfer owns Artemis Fowl. I do not own the Phantom of the Opera, as Gaston Leroux, Andrew Lloyd Webber, Susan Kay, etc. own Phantom of the Opera. What part of my non-ownership isn't clear here?

(For Michal, because I still miss you.)

Fifteen years later…

If you asked anyone about the Lower Elements Police, the first name to spring to their lips would be that of Julius Root, the apoplectic and undeniably brilliant leader of the LEP. The second would be that of Major Trouble Kelp, the fairy with the highest amount of successful missions in the history of the force. The third, however, was not particularly special, or clever. She had a pretty face but was not classically beautiful. Her name was Captain Holly Short, and she was the most controversial LEP officer on record.

She was the first female LEP officer to ever achieve captaincy status. She could fly a shuttle better than most male officers, which made her unpopular with the most of the LEP purely because she offended their pride. And since her success in assisting Major Kelp and several other prominent LEP officers in subduing the B'wa Kell rebellion, prime assignments coveted by the entire LEP seemed to be falling into her lap.

However, none of this was on the mind of Captain Short as she left Commander Root's office after a heated debate with her superior. Her usually smiling and cheerful face was closed and downright grim. She had a new assignment, and she was disgusted with it. She was to spend two weeks – really, however long it took – in Paris to complete a trivial task at the whim of ridiculous Council idiots who wouldn't know how to use a good officer even if she kicked them in the shins.

In Holly's opinion, it was a waste of time. She had never been a particularly good undercover officer, and there were certainly better people for the job. Certainly the commander, Julius Root, knew this as well as she did. But his hands were tied. Despite being the commander of the LEP, one of the highest positions in Haven, he was still subject to the whims and demands of his higher ups. And they had demanded that Captain Short go on a nice, public mission, something they could put in the newspapers instead of her usual classified work.

And so she was to go to Paris to ferret out a minor criminal, a petty thief, one that a green as grass new recruit could have caught with no trouble. Holly was, to put it mildly, furious. The commander had shot her a rare look of apology as she left his office, but even that did not appease her. It was because she was female, she was sure of it. It was practically impossible for women to succeed in the LEP without being either extraordinarily pretty or extraordinary well connected, preferably both. But Holly was neither, merely very bright and very stubborn and very determined, and she would stick out this ridiculous mission of posing as a very small tourist in Paris.

That was the only perk of the job, she reflected bitterly. Paris was home to one of Holly's favourite theatres in the world, the Paris Opera House. Her parents had taken her there long ago, when she was very young, on a rare above ground visa. She could still remember the soft voice of her father as they had left the theatre. The child Holly had been weeping, overcome with the raw emotion present within the music. She hadn't wanted to leave.

"Shh, Holly," her father had soothed softly, while her mother anxiously looked around to check they were not being watched. "Shh, now. You must be a very good girl now or the Angel of Music will not come to you." And Holly, being the little girl she was, had believed him, had quieted down.

The Angel of Music was a figure often repeated in her childhood, a favourite bedtime story. Usually accompanied by her dreams of becoming an opera star, Holly often begged her father to tell her the story of the Angel of Music, who always complied. Why her father had used a Christian figure like an angel to embody music, Holly would never know, but the stories of the Angel would linger occasionally in her conscious mind, and always in her subconscious…

Her father had died shortly after that trip to the Opera, leaving Holly's mother widowed and Holly distraught. She had never thought to imagine the world without her father in it, without the smiling, wonderful man who had preserved his child's innocence for as long as possible throughout that childhood. But his death shattered that innocence. She could remember sitting by his bedside as he died, the wounds inflicted on him by a rogue gang of goblins too much even for the finest medical staff of the LEP to heal.

"But what will I do without you?" she had sobbed. "What will I do?" And her father had reached over and held her hand gently. "Holly, my child," he had said, "when I am gone I will send you the Angel of Music, and he will give your voice wings."

The Angel had never come.

So little Holly Short had lost her dreams, lost her hopes, and grimly and bitterly followed in her father's footsteps into the LEP. She had filled and then exceeded those footsteps, defying everyone who told her she would not make it, that she would never be a tenth of the officer her father had been.

Years later, the old bitterness still stung her, and the old grief of the loss of her father still ached deep beneath the scar tissue she had built over the wound. But perhaps some of that hurt would be healed if she returned to the Opera House, returned to that last place where she and her father had been happy… if she returned to the Angel…

Don't be a fool, Holly, the Angel of Music doesn't exist, she scolded herself.

But still she dreamed.

xx

"So what have you got for me, Foaly?" she asked as she strolled through LEP headquarters into the centaur techie's office. The scent of carrots and horse assaulted her.

"And hello to you, Captain Short," said a voice from beneath a desk. She stared down at the hindquarters of the centaur, who had his human parts inexplicably under a desk. "Ah, there we go." Extracting himself from under the desk, the centaur eyed the elf warily. "Sorry, Holly, bit of complicated wiring had to be fixed."

She waved a hand. "Its fine, Foaly." The centaur read the frustration in her eyes.

"I take it you've heard about your new assignment." Her eyes were hazel fire.

"If you can call it that." The centaur tutted sympathetically.

"I knew you'd hate it. I told Julius so, but he never listens to me…" Holly managed a smile; the various annoyances that Foaly caused the commander were legend among the LEP. It was no wonder the commander refused to listen to Foaly when the centaur spent most of his time harassing him for a bigger budget. The centaur was rambling away happily to himself, so Holly figured it was time to get him grounded.

"Did you have anything for me, Foaly, or did you call me down here just to listen to you grouse at the commander?" she asked pointedly. Foaly grinned down at her.

"Sorry, Captain," he quipped, snapping off a sloppy salute. "As if anyone would want to talk about Julius for long. Come over here, I've got a few bits and pieces to show you…"

xx

She still couldn't believe it was actually happening. For all of her anger, all of her raging against the decisions they had made for her – she was above ground, and situated in the elite yet discreet hotel the LEP had picked out for her. The staff had been advised of the eccentricity of the tenant who would be occupying the suite for at least the next two weeks. Looking around the elegant rooms she would be staying in, Holly was willing to admit that perhaps her anger had been a tiny bit misplaced. There were worse assignments to get, like that one that had left Grub Kelp smelling like mud and urine for three weeks, or the ones that she had to work with Lili Frond on…

Yes, Holly decided. There were definitely worse assignments than this one. Despite the need to give daily updates to the council and the commander on how her search was going, she was virtually a free woman. Her assignment had been the source of much jealousy at the LEP, mostly from those who believed she had only got into the LEP by sleeping with every male offer in the direct chain of command. Just thinking about it made Holly angry, but as she sank deeper into the warm bath and sipped the glass of fruit juice in her hand, she couldn't bring herself to get angry.

They weren't the ones spending two weeks in what was maybe not paradise, but what was a lot better than work.

Holly sighed contentedly. Tonight she would get a good night's sleep, and tomorrow she would go on the hunt. And then tomorrow evening, she would go to the Opera House, and let the music sweep her away.

There were definitely worse situations she could be in, she thought. Definitely worse.

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