Super-speedy update!! To make up for last time.

As always, three cheers for ilex-ferox, sovereign of the synonym, purveyor of proper punctuation and un-rivalled ruler of research. And who will probably cringe at my misuse of all those nouns. Ah, well.

Chapter Twelve: Omissions

To be truthful, Minerva is no longer sure which she wants more: Artemis or the Nobel Prize. Her larger, practical side says the Nobel.

Lately however, her small, deeply buried inner sixteen-year old - to whom she rarely listens despite the fact that it always seems to be speaking - has been saying Artemis with unusual force.

So, though the answer would once have been obvious, these days Minerva finds herself unsure. Unconsciously, she has begun paying more and more attention to the overly-emotional, but no less powerful, voice of the sixteen-year old. Occasionally, this worries her. Though, when you think about it, she consoles herself, Artemis may be arguably more of a challenge.

Either way, solving the riddle of Holly's cure will fulfill both those desires.

She isn't blind, she can tell they're closer than she wants them to be, but even Artemis Fowl must submit to the impossibility presented by a different species. And when she changes Holly back, who will be there waiting to comfort him?

Of course, she may have to smooth out a few a wrinkles; such as being the person who takes Holly away. But Minerva sees it more as offering Holly a choice. A choice Minerva is sure she will make in favour of her people. And Artemis really can't hold Holly's choices against Minerva, can he?

Now she just needs to get her hands on some of that serum.

It's a couple of weeks before Holly returns to the Manor. In that time she tracks down a pair of pixies selling Dalí forgeries to rich Shamabhalan tourists, apprehends a sprite trying to smuggle a submarine full of Greek calamari to Atlantis, and corners a dwarf in a hotel room in Gouda as he readies twelve crates of stroopwafels for illegal import to Haven. Without exception, when her perps are turned over to their LEP handlers, they are ready and willing to go.

'She's crazy!' one of the pixies blubbers. 'Stark, raving mad!' He had tried to sneak up behind her when she had burst into their underground studio in Barcelona, and had been sent flying through half a dozen framed canvasses of The Persistence of Memory.

'Take me! Frond, I'll do anything,' the sprite grabs his guard by the lapels, 'just don't make me get into a car with her again! I lost count of the times we nearly went over a cliff.'

The dwarf had valiantly tried to eat his way through the hotel wall and received a sharp buzz baton across the posterior for his trouble. Immediately following which, he had been marched smartly out to the waiting car. At high noon. Luckily for him it had been an overcast day, but it left him speechless with fright nonetheless.

It's while driving the dwarf to the shuttle terminal that Holly decides enough is enough. She needs to take her frustration out on its source, not innocent criminals.

'Having a rough couple of weeks?' Trouble asks, watching as the dwarf is led away.

Holly grunts.

'Well, do me a favour and keep it up. Your results skyrocket when you're angry. Good job, Short.' Trouble allows himself the luxury of a comradely pat on the back. After all, his men are watching them.

'Thanks, Trouble,' Holly doesn't bother playing G.I. for the others. 'See you next time, I've gotta run. There's some stuff I need to deal with back home.'

Trouble doesn't comment on her choice of noun. In fact, he doesn't speak at all. He wants to make her stay, but knows there's nothing he can say that can compete with what's 'back home'. His shoulders slump ever so slightly.

Shaking his head sharply as though to clear it, he turns back to his waiting squad, 'Alright men, let's move out!'

She ditches the rental car at the airport. A quick flight gets her back to Dublin, where she takes the bus into town, then walks the rest of the way to the flat. She showers, changes, and hauls out her bike, loading it and herself onto a bus heading North. Unlike in Gouda, the Dublin sky is bright and clear and the sun warms Holly's skin as, on the outskirts of the city, she mounts her bike, peddling off towards the Manor. She doesn't go fast, she's in no hurry. This'll happen eventually, no matter what.

By the time she props her bike against the front steps, the sunlight and fresh air have brought back Holly's natural good humour. She lets herself in through the front doors, already halfway across the hall by the time a maid admit her. Waving to her, she takes the stairs two at a time, whistling to herself. As she reaches the upper floor and turns down the corridor towards Artemis' room, she finds she's not even nervous, only happy to be seeing him again.

It's like I said before, I've known what he was from the beginning. I may as well get used to forgiving if not forgetting; I have a feeling we're going to be in this situation a lot in the years to come.

She pauses mid-step.

The years to come.

No. Best not to think of that now. One day at a time. And today it's make-up-with-Artemis-day. Again.

He opens the door before she's even finished knocking. 'You're back,' he says, face impassive.

'So it seems,' she pushes past him, into the room, hopping up to sit on his desk. 'What can I say? My days just seemed so empty when they weren't filled with treachery and betrayal.'

'Holly-'

'Don't bother, Artemis. I'm not mad anymore. I've been terrorising the d'Arvit out of a bunch of fairy smugglers all week and it's really quite therapeutic.'

Artemis shakes his head. 'Therapeutic. Yes, I'm sure.'

'Yeah, there's nothing like putting the fear of Frond into a couple of cocky pixies to really relax a girl,' Holly grins, pretending to ignore his sarcasm.

'Actually, it's excellent timing on your part; I have a trip to Amsterdam coming up and am in need of a... companion.'

'Oh, have you now?' Holly picks a slice of pear out from a plate of salad sitting beside her on the desk and pops it into her mouth.

'Yes, the day after tomorrow.' Artemis takes back his salad, using his fork to rifle through the mixed greens in search of the pecans.

'And just when were you planning on telling me you needed me?'

'When was I planning on telling you that I needed you?' Artemis repeats, the faintest hint of a smile appearing at the double meaning. 'I was thinking about doing it tomorrow.'

Holly chuckles, 'Ah, Artemis. Always so respectful of the needs of others.'

'One does one's best,' Artemis really does smile then. Having dug out the pecans, he offers the salad back to Holly.

She rolls her eyes. 'Case in point.'

'Take a car with you when you go,' he tells her, 'so that you don't have to bus back here to pick me up.'

'Yessir!' Holly throws a mock-salute and he shakes his head.

Holly returns to the flat, humming to herself as she climbs the stairs.

Juliet looks up from her novel as Holly comes in, an eyebrow raised at her flatmate's high spirits.

'Having a good day, Holly?'

'Mm hmm.'

'Oh yeah? And what brought this on? You've been slamming around here for weeks now.' Juliet leans back in her chair, watching Holly go from room to room. 'So, go on then, tell me. Arrest lots of baddies in Gouda? Win the lotto? Get laid?'

Holly spares Juliet a withering glance for that last one as she hauls her laundry out into the living room.

'It's always possible,' Juliet shrugs. 'There's plenty of other fish in the sea, you know.'

'Nah,' Holly shakes her head, 'I'm not big on fish; I prefer man-eating sharks.'

Juliet laughs, 'Fair enough. But – hey! Wait, where are you going? You gonna tell me or what?'

'Where does it look like I'm going? And I will tell you – but only if you come down to the laundrette with me,' Holly waggles her eyebrows, a habit she's picked up from Juliet.

'But that's so fa-ar.'

'Ah well, I guess you don't really want to know then.'

'Alright, alright, yes, coming.' Juliet rises, taking one side of Holly's laundry basket. 'This had better be good,' she warns Holly.

'Don't get your hopes up,' Holly hops on one foot, tugging on a sneaker, 'it's really not very interesting.'

Juliet sighs, 'And yet, here I am still coming with you. Man, I'm a sucker for punishment.'

'Naw, you've just got to get your fill of me now, because I leave for Amsterdam the day after tomorrow.'

'What?' Juliet cries as they manoeuvre the basket around the front door and out into the hall. 'They've got another smuggler for you?'

'Nope. This isn't for the LEP.' Holly tugs the basket behind her with both hands.

'Oho!' Juliet holds the lift doors open as they push the laundry in. 'Going away with Master Fowl, are we?'

'Mmm,' Holly replies non-committally.

'Really!? When did you speak to him? Did you guys smooth thing out?'

'Yes. A couple of hours ago. More or less.'

'More or less?'

'As much as things are ever going to be smooth between an ex-cop and a criminal.'

Juliet picks up her end of the basket, walking backwards to get out of the lift. 'Good point.' Then she grins, 'Aw man, Holly, that's great news.'

As they reach the entrance, Juliet suddenly drops her end of the basket.

'Hey! Wh-'

'Holly, wait, is Dom going to Amsterdam too?'

'Juliet...' Holly sighs, letting go of her handle as well. 'I have no idea. Artemis didn't mention anything about your brother. I dunno... I got the feeling he wasn't.'

Juliet claps her hands delightedly, 'I knew it!'

'Knew what?'

'You're going away for a romantic weekend!'

Holly groans. 'On second thought, I can do my laundry on my own.'

Holly pulls up to the Manor, gravel flying under the tyres at her sudden screeching stop. Stepping through the dust cloud, she brushes down her dark suit and takes the steps two at a time.

'You're nearly late,' Artemis says, opening the door just as she reaches for the handle.

'Oh Great Mother of Frond!' Holly puts a hand to her heart. 'You're scarier than anyone who could possibly want to kill you. I need a d'Arvitting bodyguard just to be able to look after you. And I'm not anywhere near late - I was speeding the whole way here.'

'One day, the Garda are going to get you.'

'They'll have to catch me first,' Holly swings her key ring around a finger and winks at him. 'You ready to go?'

'Of course.'

'No one here to say good bye? Wish you bon voyage?'

'Myles is giving a violin recital in town. Actually, he was quite put out that you wouldn't be attending.'

'I promised him I'd come to his next one. Drat. Well, maybe next time.'

'Maybe,' Artemis murmurs.

They arrive at the airport in plenty of time, despite Holly's dire warnings at Artemis' insistence that she stick to the speed limit. Once safely installed in the plane, Holly takes out the folder Artemis has given her concerning their itinerary and waves it in his face.

'So, tell me again, why exactly are we going to Amsterdam? There seem to be key pieces of information missing from my folder. Like, for example, why the itinerary is made up solely of our arrival time, our hotel address and room numbers, and our departure time. What kind of itinerary is that? How am I supposed to look into everything Butler insists I look into, if you don't tell me where we're going and why?'

'You'll find out when we get there,' Artemis pulls a sleeping mask over his eyes. 'For now, just enjoy the movie selection.'

'Frond, I'm really starting to see why Butler went prematurely grey,' Holly harrumphs.

Artemis lifts up one corner of the mask, 'Not funny.'

'Neither is your caginess. I'm starting to have a sinking feeling about this trip. It's bad enough when you tell me the truth; if you're holding this much back, Frond only knows how dangerous this is going to be. Last time you left out this much information, I ended up having to cut someone's thumb off.'

'Holly, it isn't going to be dangerous, I promise. You might even enjoy yourself.' Artemis ignores her snort, 'Trust me.'

'I hate it when you ask me to do that,' she crosses her arms over her chest. 'I always do, and I always regret it.'

'Always?' Artemis pushes the mask up, abruptly focusing in on her.

Holly leans back from his sudden scrutiny. 'Er... well, I mean, no, not always. I was exaggerating.'

'But you trust me,' he states.

Holly gets the feeling that there's more to this than simple banter. She reaches over and gently slides the mask back down over his staring eyes. Brushing his hair off his forehead, she smiles. 'Yes, Artemis, I trust you.'

He relaxes back into his seat. 'Thank you,' he murmurs, knowing that he doesn't deserve it.

'You're welcome,' she says, knowing that he knows that he doesn't deserve it.

They arrive late at night and, by the time they make it to their rooms, all either of them have the energy to do is flop down onto the couch.

'One more time, for posterity's sake, why did we have to arrive this late?' asks Holly.

'I want your first sight of the city to be in the morning,' Artemis replies, his eyes closed.

Holly gives him a funny look. 'Ri-ight,' she shrugs, chalking it up as yet another element in his mysterious plan.

Artemis reaches, eyes still closed, for the telephone. 'Will you call room service and ask them to bring up some hot chocolate?' He passes her the phone.

'You do it.'

'I'm not quite at my most authoritative right now. I wouldn't want the hired help to hear me at less than my best.'

Holly laughs and places the order. She even, when the knock comes ten minutes later, gets up and answers the door.

'You'd better not make me regret all this kindness tomorrow, Artemis,' she warns him, placing the tray on the table before them.

'I won't,' he opens his eyes and leans forward to pour for them both, a gesture of good will. 'Besides, the hot chocolate here is to die for; it's worth the bother.'

Taking a sip, Holly has to admit he's got a point. She kicks off her shoes, props her feet up on the table and leans back into the couch. 'Mmm,' she hums as she closes her eyes and wriggles deeper into the cushions.

Artemis watches her over the rim of his cup and smiles ever so slightly.

'I'm onto you, Arty,' she speaks suddenly, turning her head to peer up at him over the corner of a cushion. 'You're lulling me into a false sense of security so that I won't think about tomorrow, when I'm going to have to take down half a dozen, heavily armed hit men while you con their boss into some sleazy business deal. I can see straight through you.'

'I'm really so transparent?' Artemis sighs in mock dismay.

'With skin that white, you bet you are,' Holly laughs. 'I'm supposed to be the one with an aversion to sunlight; you haven't got an excuse.'

'I don't care for skin cancer?' Artemis offers.

Holly shakes her head, 'You really need to get out more, Arty. It isn't healthy to stay inside with all those computers like that. You'll end up like Foaly in another couple of decades.'

'Heaven forbid.'

'Well, I don't know about you, but I for one do not find paranoia and tinfoil hats attractive qualities in a guy.'

'Then I suppose I'll just have to hope there's a human Caballine out there for me somewhere.'

'Hey, it never hurts to dream.'

'Ouch.'

Holly chuckles. 'Speaking of which, did you know that Juliet has a boyfriend? I nearly KO'd him in our hallway the other day.'

'Do you make a habit of mauling strangers outside your flat?'

'What? No, we were inside the flat.'

'You haven't got a hallway inside your flat.'

Holly rolls her eyes. 'I mean the space in between the couch and the bathroom.'

'Ah, you mean the fifty centimetres that aren't even enough to allow the bathroom door to open fully. That is not a hallway - that's a few floorboards which somehow, miraculously, managed not to be swallowed by your couch.'

'"Tomato, tomahto". The point is that Juliet has had a boyfriend for weeks and I never even knew.'

'Maybe she was worried you would do something like, oh, I don't know, knock him out in the hallway.'

'Pest!' Holly laughs, 'You're such a smartass, Artemis.'

'I try,' Artemis sips his hot chocolate with dignity.

Holly shifts over, leaning her head on his shoulder. His heart nearly shuts down. 'Well, at any rate, he's very nice. Very freckle-y. Looks like one strong breeze would knock him right over.'

'Well, we know how he fares with diminutive red-heads,' Artemis recovers his calm enough to smirk.

'Keep that up and we'll see how you fare with diminutive red-heads.'

'I'm shaking in my boots,' he shudders dramatically.

'Cut that out,' she slaps him lightly, 'I'm trying to relax here.'

'Terribly sorry.' Artemis goes very still. Minutes pass. Her hair brushes his neck just above his collar as, excruciatingly slowly, he can feel her body unwinding, her breath evening out. Moving as little as possible, he takes the cup from her fingers and places it on the side table. She murmurs something unintelligible.

'Yes, I totally agree,' he whispers mock-seriously.

'Mmm,' she says, shifting her legs off the table and tucking them under her. He freezes again, but she is fast asleep.

He contemplates moving her but doesn't think he's quite up to the task. Also, he can't think of a reasonable excuse to stay beside her should he move her to a bed. In the end, he shrugs (mentally) and lets his eyes close and his head rest on top of hers.

Holly wakes up half buried in cushions and next to something warm. She props herself up on an elbow, peeling her cheek off the couch's brocade. Looking back over her shoulder, she sees that Artemis has curled himself around her for warmth. She frowns, trying to remember just when they had got themselves into this position. Nothing comes to mind.

By now relatively used to waking up next to Artemis, she just shrugs, moving to get off the couch. But, as she shifts, an arm she hadn't previously registered clamps down around her, followed by an incomprehensible mumble. She blows out her cheeks and takes another look at the sleeping boy.

His face is turned up towards her, one cheek red from being pressed into the couch. Under his pale eyelids she can see his eyes flicking back and forth. His mouth is slightly open. Absently, she wonders if he ever drools in his sleep. Probably not, drooling is for the rest of us mere mortals.

Turning over underneath his arm, she wriggles a hand free and lightly runs a finger over his bottom lip. The skin is chapped and Holly wonders if he's getting sick. His head shifts under her touch and she withdraws her hand guiltily. Breathing a sigh of relief when he doesn't wake up, she turns back around and, eventually, goes back to sleep.

'You're Myles, yes?'

'That's right.' The boy eyes the blonde before him warily. He knows her by sight as a friend of his brother's but has never actually spoken to her. 'You're Minerva?'

'That's me,' she smiles winningly. 'Myles, I have a proposition to put to you.'

'Oh, really?' Myles sets aside his book.

'Mm hmm,' Minerva sits down beside him. 'You're.... ah, fond of Holly, aren't you?'

Myles shrugs.

'Well, you see Myles, the thing is, Holly's sick. It's nothing serious, it's not even really an illness. More like her body has gone through some changes lately that no one was expecting. She has very unique genes. That's the reason she's here, you see. Artemis is experimenting on her to try and change her back.'

Myles' eyes widen.

'But when Artemis finds a cure, Myles, Holly will leave and go back to her home.'

'Leave?' Myles repeats uncertainly. 'No, she won't leave, she likes Artemis too much.'

Minerva looks down at the boy, a knowing expression on her face. 'Likes Artemis too much? Myles, how long do you think that will last after she is cured? He will do something cruel and hurt her and then, because she's cured, there will be nothing forcing her to stay. She'll leave forever.'

Myles licks his lips. 'Why forever?'

'Because Holly comes from a secret family, Myles. She isn't supposed to know other people like you or me, and she certainly isn't supposed to live with them.'

'Why would Artemis try to cure her if it means she'll leave?'

'Because, if he finds a cure, he'll be famous. It would be a very important scientific discovery,' Minerva weaves fact with fiction without batting an eyelash. 'He's using her, that's all.'

Myles frowns. 'Is Artemis close to finding the answer?'

'Yes,' Minerva nods solemnly. 'In fact, he's got a prototype already made.'

He swallows.

'The thing is, Myles, I'm like your brother; I want to be famous too. Your brother's prototype is also the basis for a different project that I am working on. I'm trying to recreate Holly's changes, you see. The opposite of your brother's project. And this is where you come in, Myles; I want you to get the prototype for me. That way I can start my project and Artemis can never change Holly back. She can stay with you forever.'

Myles frowns, 'How do I know I can trust you? How do I know any of this is true?'

Minerva smiles, 'Do you know where Holly came from? Has your brother ever acted suspiciously about her origins? Do they ever go away to hospitals, or leave by themselves for days at a time? Or, even, have you ever seen a bottle of thick liquid, like tomato juice gone rancid, in your brother's keeping?'

Myles' eyes widen as he remembers the vial Artemis had been holding that day... right after he and Holly had returned from the hospital. 'Yes,' he whispers. 'Is that the prototype?'

'Yes, that's it.' Minerva tilts her head, looking him in the eye, 'What do you think, Myles? Will you do this for me?'

'Yes,' Myles clenches his jaw. 'Yes.'

Myles pushes open the door to his brother's room slowly, as though afraid Artemis could still be inside.

Don't be ridiculous, he and Holly left two hours ago for Amsterdam. He frowns, Probably to run more tests at a hospital there.

He slips into the room, shutting the door behind him. He thought back to the vial he had seen. Luckily for him, he doesn't know about Artemis' illegal activities and the many hidey-holes and secret safes they engender. If he did, he probably would have abandoned the search there and then as utterly impossible.

Which would have been a mistake. Artemis, it's true, has locked away most of Opal's serum in a safe Myles would have no chance of ever unlocking, even if, by pure chance, he somehow managed to find it. However, he had taken a sample of Opal's concoction before locking it away – the vial Myles' saw him toying with. This he has simply left in one of the cubby holes of his roll-top desk, thinking his house to be, after all, one of the most secure buildings on the planet; which, in his defence, it is. Never in a million years would Artemis have suspected that his younger brother would come ferreting through his things, looking for a vial of what appeared to be tomato juice gone bad.

It takes Myles twenty minutes of delicately rifling through papers and gingerly opening drawers, to find what he is looking for. Sighing with relief, he slides the vial into his pocket and slips back out onto the landing.