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The sound of the door being slammed and the click of the lock sliding back into place (where it had been for an hour and 13 minutes, 46 seconds) broke the daze Sophia was in, the dream she had began. It was Artemis. She stood up from the chaise lounge, where she had been looking out at the night sky wishing she could be out there to feel the evening breeze. But Juliet wouldn't let her. She was afraid Tara would attempt suicide. Maybe she would have. To avoid the coming events.

She turned only her head giving a profile view, the rest of her still facing the French doors. Her eyes were closed. This was expected.

Artemis stood, facing her. Silent, glaring, expressionless. What was expected. It was worse like this. She would have preferred yelling. Then she could have defended herself. In this silence, a silence she was use to, nothing was hidden. It showed her true self: the liar. The fool. The thief. Sasha's sister, and Sasha killer. Her hair fell into a curtain between them, hiding her face. Artemis crossed the room until he was parallel to her, eyes burning into her form.

On instinct she turned away, adrenaline slowly coming, offering some form of escape she didn't know. No. She moved to face him.

"Artemis."

"No." It came, cold and firm and low, with more force in it that Sophia had ever heard. She reached out in a "Nothing-to-hide-anymore" gesture.

"I am sorry." She said simply. What more was there to say?

It was one opening he had been waiting for. "I don't want to hear it."

"Then why did you come here?" She shot back. "You knew that's what you'd get."

"I did not."

"So you assume I'm heartless."

Silence.

"Artemis, I wasn't going to do it. I stepped out weeks ago, when you proposed."

So you could have it all to yourself when you killed me?

"Sasha was going to leave for America. We agreed. I was going to stay here with you. I lov-"

"Just." He said through gritted teeth. "Stop."

"No. I have to-"

"Do you not understand that you no longer have the right to speak? I won't listen." You don't deserve even that.

"You're going to listen." Sophia said gently. "Because you want to. Artemis-"

Another opening. Perfect.

"You lied, 'Sophia'." He pronounced her name in a long, cold way." The pseudonym I could take, the false life didn't hurt me. But you told me you love me. That you would marry me. Money didn't matter."

"I do love you-"

"When I learned that you were the eldest Iver girl, I though there was no problem. I was a thief once. I know they aren't bad people. You'd never hurt anyone. You were charitable. The things I saw in you…you reminded me of myself when I was young. But you were better. You had compassion. You did things I would never do…I wasn't brave enough, or humane enough to do. You were perfect." He paused, eyes fire. He had looked happy for a while, talking about her, but something reminded him what he was there for. "Of course, that was before you took up gold digging. Now I realize I was just the lucky first. Number one."

"No. Pleas-"

"Ms. Iver." He said mockingly, formally. He missed this. The cold power. Nothing had been like this since Holly's kidnapping. Sophia was bringing out the child in him…the child Artemis had once been. "I'm done. Don't try, seducing me won't work in your favour."

"I wasn't-" She began, outraged. How dare he- But he cut across her smoothly.

"I'm not falling for that one again. Love." He spit the word out with malice.

"Artemis! I know you have a right to be mad, but-"

"I have more than a right!" He yelled. "You were-"

"I told you, I had stepped out. It was Sasha! She did it without my knowledge."

"Then why all the plans, photos, and notes still in your house? On the counter, wall, in files clearly marked? I didn't offer enough? Or could you not stand being the quiet millionaire's wife, the unknown artist?"

Ranting. Great. He'd forgotten he was a billionaire. He was really, really mad.

"Were you planning it soon? Or after the vows were you going to kill me."

"I-"

"Shut up, Tara!" He was shaking. All control, normalcy, icy perfection that was Artemis Fowl went out the window. She'd struck a nerve. Never had she seen him mad before. Disgruntled, annoyed, temperamental, sure, but mad? Pissed off? Never. And it was terrible. Worse, it was all directed toward her. Rightly so. "No, you're not Tara." He suddenly sounded much calmer, like some interest idea had just occurred to him. The way he continued to speak sounded mad. But calm and content in his new plan "I loved Tara. I don't know this Sophia girl. Who lies. Who is a murderer."

That was when Sophia, the girl who lied, the "murderer", slapped him for the first time ever. And it hurt a lot. Holly's hadn't hurt that bad. Holly hadn't broken his heart. He had forgotten what a good arm she had. How she wasn't afraid to put him in line, too. Well, had he really expected to just waltz in, insult her, hurt her without a little pain of his own in return? She must have though he was referring to her sister's all to recent death. But he wasn't. It was his own planned murder, not…that.

"Don't you dare say I killed my sister." Sophia whispered, shaking. She turned away, clutching at her sides to hold herself together. This was too many blows in one night. Couldn't he have waited until the morning?

When Artemis looked back on this event, he realized she lost hope. He also realized later, that was the moment she made up her mind to leave.

"You can call me a liar and a thief all you want, Artemis, it's true. But I did not kill my sister, nor was I planning to kill you, nor was I lying all those times I said 'I love you'. I do love you. If you can't get any of that through your thick skull, then leave me be." She said it all in a low, rushed voice, calm and pronounced. It was the only sentence she'd been able to say without interruption, and she was proud of herself. Slightly. Sophia wished she didn't have to say it at all. That he understood, believed, listened to her!

Artemis had by then recovered from her strike and was listening. One hand was on his cheek, pressing the spot she'd slapped. Ow.

Tara moved to the window, trying desperately to hold it all in, almost failing. She was not going to cry, not going to allow Fowl that sight. So he's "Fowl" again, Sophia? The voice asked.

Yes.

The plan of escape was forming. It would be quick, soon. Tonight. As soon as Artemis left the packing would begin. Only one bag. Nothing here was Sophia Iver's.

He was calm again. The silence had eaten away most of the rage, leaving some hot white anger, but not much. Artemis was mad, be he was also ready. For it to work he need more time, and a better place, to think. Slowly he moved toward the door. Sophia-no, Tara, she would always be his Tara, soon she would be Tara and only Tara. The fairies would help him with that.

Tara didn't move or even notice his motions toward exit. She remained still, looking out at the stars. When his hand touched the doorknob he looked back.

" Do not leave this room."

"Wouldn't dream of it." She muttered, like a rebellious teen. The rebellious teen she was. He forgot sometimes, how young she really was. Too young. Just 21…nearly three years his junior, but so much more young emotionally.

"Be sure you don't. The camera is on. Juliet is watching." He said coldly like the merciless, heartless voice of her nightmares. She glanced up to meet his eyes. When the girl shuddered and Artemis felt guilty. But he left without a single word.

Artemis Fowl had two identical blue eyes tonight.

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He pressed his back to the door, sliding down till he made contact with the floor ending up in a sitting position. From inside there was a small sob. Quiet, shuddering, heartbreaking sob. The boy closed his eyes, repressing his own cry. Gods, nothing had hurt this much in a long time… Butler's close bush with death. Minerva. Not even Minerva. He at least suspected her departure. Tara hadn't even left. She was a few meters away, separated by a wall and her own invisible distance. Betrayal was worse than abandonment. In desertion you could at least still pretend the person loved you, they left you for your sake, perhaps. He knew Sophia loved him, somehow he knew that, but…

None of it would matter soon. In a short time the pain would fade. Things would return to normal. Better than normal. Perfect. He and Tara would marry, have their child, Artemis the Third, take trips to Italy, Egypt, Spain, Austria, celebrate their 25 anniversary… grow old together….

All he had to do was make her forget.

Artemis stayed for only five more minutes. He then left for the surveillance room where Juliet sat watching the drive and sipping a Coke. Upon taking one look at her charge's face, Juliet sensed a problem. The aloof expression was normally normal, but not in recent months, ever since Tara-or Sophia, whatever her name was-came to stay.

"Artemis?" The bodyguard asked. "Are you alright?"

"I'm fine." What a lie.

"How's Tar-I mean, Sophia? Did you get her tea, or something? Valerian?"

"Not yet."

Juliet noticed his short answers, not really unusual, but unexpected. She didn't mention it. He must be upset. "Don't give her any sleeping pills, Artemis. Sometimes it's just easier to cry about these thins. You can't sleep it off."

"I won't."

"Good." Juliet said, satisfied her friend would be okay. Now about her employer. "Do you need anything?"

A grunt. Okay, back to Sophie.

"Does Sophie?"

The use of her real name, used in such a casual way, shortened, even, hit Artemis in the stomach. Sophie. A dull pain rose in his chest. Would it always be like this when ever he heard her true name? He could not avoid it forever. Maybe in this house, but the outside world? There were a number of his employees at Fowl Industries with the same name. Would she react, after it was all over?

"Yes." He finally managed. His voice was still cold, without emotion. Good. "Activate the camera in her room. Watch the hall and door. Make sure she does not come out. If she tries to hurt herself, leave, or anything else out of the ordinary, alert me, quickly. Do not hesitate. Did you lock the windows like I told you?"

"Yes." She hesitated, then spoke again. "Artemis…is something wrong? I mean, you're a little…angsty. Did she say anything…bad?"

Artemis nodded, annoyed.

Juliet returned the nod, sympathy in her voice. "Oh, Arty. She's upset. Something terribly tragic just happened. Don't believe what she says right now. She really doesn't mean it.

"I won't. Bring her some tea. "

"Maybe you should-"

"Juliet." He growled. "I would prefer you brought her the damn drink. No questions, employee."

With that he slammed the door, leaving Juliet stunned. It had never been so cold between either of the Butlers and their charge. They had always been like family, friends at worst! Tara must have said something positively awful to get Artemis so mad. Reminding Juliet of her social position was the lowest of low things he could have done. It wasn't hurtful, just rude.

It was lucky he had left in a hurry. She would've decked him if he hadn't, sympathy or no.

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The knock on the door was quick, too quick. She'd barely began cutting.

"Hello?" She called faintly. It wasn't the blood loss, just the surprise. Or that's what she told herself. The sight of blood always did bother her.

"It's me." Juliet answered, her voice Irish honey. Comforting. Sophia was tempted to let her in. "I've brought tea. And a chat, if you want."

Very tempted.

And tea did sound nice…but what if it was laced with sleeping pills?

"Tar-sorry-Sophie?"

So she knows my name.

Sliding her cut arm wrapped in tissue under the comforter (thank the gods she started with her left one!) she called out "Come in!" in the general direction of the bed, and hid the dagger behind a pillow. This would screw up the plan, but it was a good-bye to her friend.

Juliet Butler entered, smiling, greeting brightly. Sophia smiled back half-heartedly.

"I hope you don't mind if I call you Sophie. I really like it. They both suit you, but if you're more use to Sophia…"

"I don't mind at all." She assured the perky blonde bodyguard. "That's what Sasha use to call me."

Juliet's smile shattered. "Oh, I'm so sorry, I-" She came over to sit on the edge of the bed.

"It's okay. I don't mind. It makes us…familiar." She assured Juliet.

"Here." Juliet handed her a mug. Sophia took it, eyeing it suspiciously. "Don't worry, it's clean. Nothing but raspberry leaves."

Her favorite kind. They had no sleeping properties, thank the gods. She remembered to keep her other arm covered, making look like she was propped up on it.

"I wanted to talk to you about Artemis."

Sophia nodded, taking a small sip. Juliet hadn't lied, it was clean. And warm and good. Perfect. Her mother always made tea when the girls were upset, it was a calming drink. The only time Sophie drank it was during a stressful, or perhaps, devastating time. Juliet must have the same philosophy.

"He was really upset after coming back from seeing you. Did you tell him anything?"

So he hadn't told her…she hadn't been watching. Liar. The cameras hadn't been on. Still, this was only a good thing. She could tell Juliet whatever she wanted. This was an unexpected plus.

"Only that I loved him." She paused. "He called me a murdered." She looked away for effect, pretending to hide tears. "H-he th-thinks it's m-my fault Sasha is de-dead."

Juliet was stunned. "Jerk." She said. Why would he do that? It wasn't in Artemis's character to say such things? But then again, tonight he had done a lot of unexpected things.

Sophia was happy to see her bait had been taken. But before she could pull in the whole thing was ruined.

"What's this?" Juliet asked, frowning at the dark red stain growing on the comforter. She tugged back the covers, pulling away the soaked tissue at the same time. And there it was. A dark red horizontal slash, neat, perfectly in the center, perfectly sliced, maybe four centimeters across. It oozed bright red slowly, dripping on the edges. Doubtlessly staining the sheets.

Juliet didn't scream, didn't faint, didn't scold, just coolly detached the radio from her belt.

"Artemis-"

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The tired young mad sank into his leather armchair. His head landed onto his folded arms simultaneously. He closed his eyes and gave a sigh. Suddenly, the sadness he had held back came out in a muffled sob. Now that he was alone it didn't matter. The cries shook his body, and he took satisfaction in not trying to hide or stop it.

"Is this how normal people deal with pain?" He wondered, not caring if he sounded too dramatic in his own mind. "Or do they have someone to comfort them?"

His parents would never know and "Sophie" would never care. Maybe if Tara had walked in on him like this she would have assessed the situation, either cheered him up or cried with him. Because, that's what she did.

It was then, when Artemis was weeping over his loss, that he realized he barely knew the woman he might soon call wife. Obviously most of the time she lying…but somehow he stilled loved her, whether she by Tara or Sophia or Aggie. It was like she had multiple personality disorder. And he only wanted one half, the half he loved.

Luckily, Artemis had a solution. Other men in his position didn't have this. It was risky. The chances of her agreement were nearly nothing. That was no obstacle. Artemis Fowl was not afraid to force her into the solution. After all, hadn't many of his forefathers forced some of his Great-great Grandmothers into loveless, or one-sided, marriages?

So he would make her forget. A simple mind wipe directed by him. She would awake in his arms, live in his house, be his fiancé. She would be Tara Gavin (soon to be Fowl) and only Tara. His. His Tara. She would never return to that brownstone, never visit her sister's grave (but he would host a funeral and allow Sophia the proper time to mourn.) and never be called "Sophie" again.

Really, she made it convenient for him. With no living family and no friends there would never be the chance of her being recognized. On a happier note, he took away any pain she would've continued feeling over her sister's death. That had to count for something. When she woke he could manipulate the situation so they could be more intimate in their relationship, without the awkwardness they would normally experience. And he could tell her he loved her again.

His Tara

The plans were interrupted by the crackling static of the radio. "Artemis, I need you in here."

He jumped to grab it. "Where are you?"

"Sophia's bedroom. We have a problem."

There was a huff of static. Somebody had sighed, presumably in disappointment that their plot was now wasted.

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"What happened?"

"She cut herself."

"What?"

"It wasn't bad, she angled the blade wrong. There was hardly any blood loss. It was on the arm."

Good, I got the angle right. Too bad they noticed.

"Why didn't you stop her?! It could've have been more than an arm by time you found it!"

Doubtful She didn't want to kill herself, just scare them, and say good-bye. Making them think she was unable worked in her favour.

"I was bringing her the tea! On the upside, she's tired now."

"From blood loss." She heard a snort. "Yeah. Great. Just watch her movement constantly from now on, understand? We'll discuss you inattentiveness and excuses later." The demanding voice was tight in barely-controlled rage.

Juliet left without a word. Sophia could imagine her flicking back her hair as way of farewell in a prissy manner. She hoped Juliet wouldn't get into to much trouble. It really wasn't her fault, she'd just picked the wrong time to deliver tea and comfort.

The door opened slowly, casting a thin beam of light across the floor. Artemis' silhouette paused, looking at her supposedly sleeping form. She let out a sigh. He moved to the bed, sitting on the edge gently. His pale hand caressed her face.

"Oh Sophia." He whispered. "I'm so sorry. I wish I could change this."

Then why don't you?

There was an uncertain laugh, then a shift. He held a black box…the one he had that night she'd shown him the studio!

"I was going to give this to you tonight." He confided. "But then Holly called. I expected it to be short…but look what happened. I was also going to tell you I knew who you really were. The plan was to tell you when I proposed, but that failed. I thought that maybe if you saw I didn't care, you'd stay."

It was undoubtedly a ring. An engagement ring.

He leaned down, kissing her cheek and pulling the comforter up around her, apparently feeling the goose bumps on her arm he was stoking that were caused by fear, not cold.

Before he closed the door, the whispered "I love you" confused Sophia and sent shivers down her back. No matter. It was either a lie or…or unknowing extension of the truth. He just felt fondness and possession. Like the "love" one would feel toward their pet gold fish. When she was sure he was gone, and the Juliet was bored of watching a black screen, the covers went off.

She turned to the door, but something caught her eye. The black box. He'd left it. Did he want her to put it on when she awoke? Did he know she was listening? Or did he forget it? Maybe he left it as a peace offering. Or maybe it was a trick. If she slipped it on she'd be chained to the house forever. He'd assume it was a sign that she, Sophia Iver, was selling her soul.

Shrugging, she attacked the task at hand.

Quickly she filled a backpack with fruit (knowing the distance to her apartment and having not eaten since five that evening), water, all her books and belongings, save everything he gave her (the expensive clothes, jewelry, et cetera).

She changed into some regular dark wash jeans, a t-shirt, jacket, and tennis shoes, pulling her hair into a ponytail and then into a hat. Something average, not flashy. Perfect. She could slip into crowds with this. Classic of a university student's wardrobe. "Good things do come out of this age. Nobody but other people your own age bother you."

Looking around the room where so many hours of happiness had taken place, where recently a prison was founded, harsh words said, Sophia Iver regretted many things.

But she couldn't leave without…scooping up the black box. Cautiously, she open it, peeking in .

A beautiful ring, a slim band. White gold engraved with leaves. Custom, and perfect with a tiny diamond in the topmost leaf that stuck forward, pointing to her heart. Similar to a traditional Celtic ring. A secret engagement ring. To trick her, or his parents? She didn't want to…but it called to her. He knew her so well…the real her. It would be one material memory, if she was not to take anything else he'd given her.

Part slap in the face (for it was the most expense, rarest thing he's bought her) part loving farewell, she slipped it on her center finger. It fit like nothing had before.

"This way if I flip him off, he'll see the band too and be twice offended!"

Ignoring the pain, she crossed to the French doors, tugging the pack's straps on to her shoulders. Sophia threw the right window open, climbing out onto the ledge, and without a second glance proceeded to jump….

On to the roof that jetted out below.

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