And the anti-climax continues! Watch as I try to write a wedding while not actually wanting to write a wedding. And, to answer most people's question, there's still a few more hcapters to go, I'm afraid, we're not quite done yet. Nearly!

Props to ilex-ferox, who makes sure I don't look quite so much like a total idiot as I would usually.

Chapter Twenty-One: All Grown Up

'Well,' Juliet looks around her empty flat, 'this is it, I guess. It's been a bloody long four years but, Mexico, I'm coming home!'

Holly grins at her friend as the blonde pushes a packing crate out of the way of the door. 'You're sure you have to leave so soon?'

'You bet. I love you guys, but the rain here gets me down. I want sunshine! Mostly so that I can mock Arthur for all the sunburn he's gonna get.'

The man in question rubs his freckled nose and glares. 'Thanks, Juliet. Really.'

She winks at him as all three head back outside.

Waving as Juliet and Arthur pass through security, Holly turns to her companions and says, 'I can't believe she's actually going through with that school idea. I'm so proud of her.'

Butler smiles, watching the blonde ponytail until it disappears from sight. 'Me too. And Arthur will make a good teacher, I think. Much better than Juliet would.'

Holly laughs, 'Tell me about it. It's a good thing she's only handling the administrative half or there'd be a lot of traumatised orphans running around Yucatán.'

'But can Mexico handle that much women's liberation all at once?' Artemis wonders out loud.

'Here's hoping. Because, let's face it, they don't have much of a choice,' Holly grins, hopping down from her perch on the metal railing. She punches Butler in the arm, 'Come on Big Man, I'll buy you lunch!' And with that, she runs off down the hall.

Butler sighs, shaking his head. 'I just don't have the energy to keep up with her these days.'

'You're better off than I am,' Artemis replies. 'I've never had it.'

The huge man laughs, briefly hugging his not-so-young charge with one arm. 'We'd better get moving before she leaves without us.'

'Oh God, you let her keep the keys?'

The phone is ringing as Holly enters the flat, a canvas grocery bag in each hand. 'Aw, d'Arvit,' she mutters, dropping the groceries and jumping for the phone. 'Hello?' Holding the phone between her cheek and shoulder, she slides her bag off her arm, opening it to pull out a bundle of sunflowers.

'Holly? It's Angeline. How are you?'

'Oh, I'm great, just walking in the door as usual!' Carrying the flowers to the kitchen, Holly rummages for a vase. 'Yourself?'

'Wonderful, wonderful,' Angeline laughs. 'Is Artemis there, by any chance?'

'No, I'm afraid not. He and Butler have gone down to Brown Thomas.' Successful in her quest, Holly fills the vase with water, cramming the sunflowers into it en masse. Fondly, she rubs one of the petals between her fingers. Even the colour gold attracts the People.

'Oh, well, it doesn't matter; I'm calling for all three of you, really. I was wondering if you would like to come over to pick the last of the blackberries this evening. We've been doing it a lot this year and I thought that you, at least, might like it. And I'm sure the twins would love to see all of you. Really, it's just an excuse to have everyone at the Manor for once.'

Holly is silent for a moment.

'Holly?'

'Oh, sorry, Angeline,' she laughs, 'I was trying to picture Artemis picking blackberries but I couldn't quite manage it.'

The other woman laughs. 'No, I suppose not, but do drag him along. I feel as though it's been ages since we've all been at home together.'

'Of course I will, I'll call him now. We've nothing planned for tonight, so I can't see why we couldn't come. That'd be lovely.'

'Around four, let's say? Then you can all stay for dinner.'

'Wonderful,' Holly puts the vase on the coffee table.

'My mother wants us to do what?' Artemis' incredulous voice issues from her mobile.

'You don't have to pick anything, Artemis, keep your hair on. That's for the rest of us mere mortals.'

Butler says something indistinct in the background. Artemis harrumphs in response.

'What did he say?' Holly asks.

'That I will nonetheless enjoy the 'fruits of others' labour.'

Holly laughs. 'He knows you too well.'

Artemis sighs and she can picture his disgruntled expression. 'Do you want us to pick you up?' he asks.

'No, I'll take the bike and meet you there.'

He doesn't say anything to that, but she can hear his pursed lips.

Holly brings her motorbike, still shiny and red from years of loving care, to a gravel-spewing stop in front of the Manor. A few feet away, Artemis heaves a long-suffering sigh.

'You're still driving that beast?' Artemis Senior laughs, as she slides off her helmet.

She grins fondly at the bike. 'You bet. It's almost as good as flying.'

The front door opens and Beckett and Myles arrive on the steps, bickering. When they catch sight of the latest arrival, however, both nine-year-olds forget about the other and run down to greet her.

'Holly,' Beckett hollers, jumping the bottom step, a football under his arm, 'you have to come play football with me. Father can't, our Butler won't and Myles is awful.' He grabs her by the hand, tugging her after him

Myles wrinkles his nose. 'I'm not awful; I just can't see the point in playing such a ridiculous game.'

Holly digs her heels into the gravel, to keep herself from being dragged away by Beckett. Laughing, she ruffles Myles' hair. 'How's the cancer research going, Myles? Have you - okay, okay, stop pulling, Beckett, one second!' She laughs as the only, in her eyes, sane member of the Fowl family yanks her onto the grass.

'It's coming along.' Myles shrugs after her.

'Slowly but surely?' Holly calls over her shoulder.

'Something like that,' he says, watching as she and Beckett begin to play.

'Oh good, we're all here,' Angeline arrives at last, carrying several large baskets. 'Ah, I see Beckett has kidnapped Holly already.' Her eyes drift to her other twin. 'Myles, darling, would you come help me carry these pails?'

'Of course, Mother.' A heartbeat later, he tears his eyes away from the footballers and dutifully returns to the steps. As he takes a basket from his mother, he looks up, meeting his older brother's eyes. Well, Myles thinks, as he has many times before, at least she's not leaving us. Myles sighs, and tries not to listen when his father begins making his usual round of unsubtle references to marriage. Yet another thing he and Artemis have in common.

'Artemis,' Holly rolls onto her side, propping her head in her hand, 'how old am I again?'

'Pardon?'

'How old am I supposed to be? I can't remember.' She frowns in the dim light of the windows.

Artemis pauses before answering, 'Twenty four, nearly twenty five now. Juliet's been gone almost three years.'

'Twenty five again?' Holly rolls onto her back. 'It's feels like millennia since I've been twenty-five.'

'Only decades, I'm afraid.' He fingers the sheets.

She eyes him speculatively. 'Yes, Artemis?'

He laughs. 'Holly,' he pauses, frowning, 'would you marry me?'

Holly blinks, then pulls a face at his emphasis. 'What's with the use of the subjunctive? Shouldn't it be 'will you marry me'?'

'Oh, I know you will, I'm asking if you would.'

'What's the difference?'

'Whether or not you would like to.'

'Well, seeing as you know that I will, why bother asking would I like to? Isn't that implied by that the fact that I will?'

'Not at all.'

'I can't believe you just turned a marriage proposal into a grammar lesson and/or a threat.'

'Oh, I wasn't proposing, I was simply curious as to what your answer would be.'

She rolls over, bracing herself on her elbows and looking down into his face. 'Let me get this straight. You know, without asking, that I will marry you – a fact which, by the way, I have yet to confirm – but nonetheless you ask me if I would marry you, a question you promptly turn into a session of grammatical hairsplitting, simply to know what my answer would be and not because you particularly want to marry me?'

'I never said that,' Artemis objects.

'Which part?'

'That I didn't want to marry you. Other than that, however, yes, you've grasped the essentials of it.'

'Oh good,' Holly blows out her fringe in exasperation. 'And do you want to marry me, Artemis?'

'Well, why don't you get yourself a special licence and find out.'

Holly lets her head drop onto his chest so that he can't see her smile as she groans in frustration.

'I'll marry you, Artemis Fowl, when you figure out a way to have all of my friends attend the wedding ceremony alongside all of your family.'

Artemis scoffs. 'Is that all? I didn't realise I was marrying a woman so easily pleased.'

'Oh, now you use the indicative, do you?'

In the end, it's N°1 who solves the fairy/human attendance issue. When Artemis approaches him with the problem, the little imp scoffs, much as Artemis had, at the simplicity of the question.

'Obviously I can arrange that. I've sent you back in time and you're asking me if I could perform a little camouflage? Do you have any idea what these fingers can do? I'm insulted, Artemis, I really am.' N°1 pauses, a finger on his chin. 'But, there'll be a price.'

Artemis raises his eyebrows.

'I get to be best man.'

The man shakes his head. 'Butler's best man.'

'Aw, c'mon, Artemis. Please? How many people do you know who've had all powerful demon warlocks for their best man? Seriously, now.'

'I would, N°1, but it was decided a long time ago. I can hardly go back on my word.' Artemis stretches the truth.

'Why not?' the imp asks.

'What do you think of this fabric, Holly? Or this one? I'm leaning towards the satin, myself, but...' Angeline holds out two samples of cloth to Holly.

Holly frowns at the bits of white material before her. 'Angeline, I, uh, well... why do you keep showing me white fabric?'

Angeline blinks. 'Because your dress will be white.' She pauses, then adds, 'Won't it?'

It's Holly's turn to blink. 'White? Why would it be white? They're usually gold, aren't they?'

'Gold?' Angeline repeats. Then comprehension dawns. 'Gold is what the People get married in?'

'Well, the females at least,' Holly nods. 'You wear... white? Why?'

'Why gold?'

'We love gold. It's beautiful, it's long-lasting, it's pure; it's a symbol of prosperity, good luck and happiness. What more could you want? Why white?'

Angeline swallows. 'Well, it's a symbol of purity - of innocence. It was, traditionally, to show that the bride was still a virgin.'

Holly raises an eyebrow. 'Would you mind terribly if we went with gold?'

The other woman shakes her head. 'Of course not! It's your wedding, Holly.'

Looking over at the stacks of books and invitations and plans that cover Angeline's desk, Holly thinks, You could have fooled me.

'No, Mother. Small ceremony. Large reception. The Von Martens can come to the reception.'

Angeline sighs. 'Well who is coming to the ceremony, then? So far it's only you two, Butler, Juliet, Arthur, myself, your father and the twins; that's hardly a wedding. Never mind which, why are we using the family chapel? Why not Christchurch? That old chapel has been deconcecrated for years, you know, something about your great-great-uncle needing storage space for illegal rum, or something.'

'It was for opium actually, Mother, and I do know - the fact that it's deconcecrated is exactly why we're using it. Foaly, Caballine, Trouble, Mulch, Vinyáya, N°1 and Qwan are going to be in attendance, you see. Mulch may also bring his partner, but I'm not sure. At any rate, Doodah doesn't take up much space. But the People don't ... enjoy concecrated earth.'

'Oh. Well why didn't you tell me there were fairies coming?' Angeline hastily jots something on her notepad. 'But how on earth are we going to – with your father and the twins?'

'N°1 is coming up with something.'

'Oh good.' Angeline taps her pen thoughtfully against her lips, 'Do we know who's giving Holly away yet?'

'I believe she'll be doing that herself.'

'Don't be silly, dearest. She needs someone to give her away.'

'Why? She's all she has.'

'It's tradition, Arty.'

'So is a white dress.'

'Artemis! You know you're not allowed to look at the dress before the wedding!'

Artemis puts his hands on his mother's shoulders. 'Don't worry, Mother, I didn't. Holly told me about it. Everything is going to be fine.'

'Of course it is, this is going to be the most extraordinary wedding Ireland's never seen.'

'They'll see the reception, and that's all anyone really cares about anyway.'

His mother laughs.

Juliet looks critically at her reflection in the mirror, fingering the green fabric of her dress.

Holly laughs. 'What do you think?'

'That I'm very lucky to have such a practical bride. Just think of the awful dresses some bridesmaids get stuck with. Ugh! This way, if there's some kind of disaster – and let's face it, this is you and Artemis we're talking about, so chances are good – at least I can run away.'

'You're just happy I talked Angeline into letting you have a short skirt.'

'You know me too well. Anyway, you're not exactly trailing flounces either.'

'Much to Angeline's dismay. If it wasn't for the fact that Doody designed it, I doubt she would have let me get away with something so untraditional.'

'Ah, Angeline. Bless her, she does love a good dress.'

'I can't believe this,' Holly mutters, tugging at the skirt of her wedding dress. Juliet slaps her hand away from the fabric.

'Can't believe what?'

'I'm nervous.'

'You're getting married, of course you're nervous.'

'But it's just so ridiculous. It's not like I wasn't going to stay with him anyway, so why should I be nervous? I haven't had nerves this bad since... since... Frond, I don't know, that time Abbott nearly killed us all? No, not even then, then I was just frustrated.'

Juliet laughs. 'It's normal. Everyone's nervous before they get married.'

'How would you know? You've never married!'

'No, but it's just, you know, common knowledge.'

Holly lets out a disgruntled sigh. 'She can face down man-eating trolls with composure but can she walk ten metres without passing out? Not looking too likely, here. Frond, I am so glad I don't have a train: I would fall flat on my face.'

Juliet watches her anxious friend and chuckles.

Artemis fiddles with his cuff links.

'Cut that out, you're making me nervous,' Foaly whispers from behind him. The centaur's conspicuous legs have been magicked into a wheel chair by N°1; Foaly looks entirely human.

'Making you nervous? I'm the one getting married here.'

'Does this look like a face that cares? Leave your cuff links alone or I'm going to send you the mother of all computer viruses.'

'You wouldn't dare. I'd decimate your network.'

'Oh-ho? Cocky little Mud Boy, aren't we?'

'Better that than a talking donkey.'

'Ooh, ouch. That hurts, Arty, that really does.'

'You are possibly the worst best man imaginable, Foaly. You're supposed to be reassuring me, not insulting me.'

Butler's role in the wedding has been rearranged, leaving Foaly and N°1 to fight it out between them for best man. Foaly's triumph is pure luck, having narrowly won 27 out 52 rounds of rock, paper, scissors.

'You'd see straight through me if I tried to reassure you. It wouldn't help distract you at all.'

'Oh yes? And antagonizing me will?'

'You bet. She's coming in now.'

'What?' Artemis whips his head around to face the opening doors. Foaly smirks. A job well done.

'I could've given myself away you know, Butler,' Holly whispers as they enter the Fowl Manor chapel. 'I'm twice your age, this whole thing is absurd.'

'Well, you two always have been a bit heavy on the irony,' he replies. 'But look at it from my perspective. I get to walk calmly up the aisle with a pretty woman on my arm instead of trying to pacify a terrified, not to mention crotchety, groom.

Holly snickers.

'Well, Artemis, what do you think?' Holly asks, sitting in the back of the Bentley, smoothing down her skirt.

'That I'm very glad you never thought of using your motorbike for the wedding car.'

'What makes you think I didn't think about it?' she asks, raising an eyebrow.

'Then I'm very glad you were good enough not to mention it to me,' Artemis replies, gallantly.

'Yes, you're terribly lucky,' Holly sniffs, putting her nose in the air and clasping her hands primly on her knees. 'You've married an incredibly good woman.'

'Unfortunately for her,' he smirks.

'Tell me about it,' Holly's posture once more reverts to a relaxed sprawl. 'But that's not really what I meant when I asked what you thought.'

'Well, what did you mean? Did I like the flowers? Do I think it went off alright? Do I like your dress? Am I planning to have venison or salmon for dinner?'

'All of the above. Though, if you eat either of those things you can kiss yourself tonight,' Holly wrinkles her nose.

'The flowers were lovely, it went off as I expected it go off – perfectly, like all of mother's parties. And you look stunning - so may I eat salmon for dinner?'

She laughs and holds out her arms to him.

Life goes on as normal. Or, at least as normal as life with the Fowls ever has been. Artemis continues to be criminal. Holly continues to forgive or, at least, turn a blind eye. Occasionally, they fight, sometimes for weeks. If things get really bad, Holly will pack a suitcase and vanish for a few days. But she always comes back the morning Artemis plans to set out after her.

Once, however, things get so out of hand that Holly - slamming the front door in Artemis' cool, composed face - swears she's had it. She finds a field job with a linguistic anthropology professor, packs a bag, and moves to South America to study an indigenous tribe deep in the Amazon rainforest.

Five months into her six month contract, Holly is squatting next to two other women, helping them prepare dinner. Her hair has grown out shaggy and unkempt and both her ears have been pierced with long, wicked-looking bone carvings. Her employer is impressed by her ability, not to mention willingness, to integrate herself with the community and its customs. Never has he seen someone throw themselves into an utterly foreign environment with such vigour – it borders on violence.

Holly meanwhile is doing her best to erase every trace of Artemis from her life; including all of herself that would be recognizable to him.

So there she is, barefoot on the dark earth, when out of the forest, like a god out of myth, comes a tall, thin man. His pale face is a striking contrast to the black of his perfectly combed hair and his impeccable Brioni suit. The villagers, the professor and Holly all gape.

The professor steps forward, 'Er, excuse me, sir, are you in need of assistance? I'm afraid you're miles away from Rio.'

'I am perfectly aware,' replies the man in cool, aristocratic English, 'that Rio is nine hundred and seventy-three miles south-east of here. And no, I am not in need of assistance, thank you - at least, not from you.'

The professor blinks. 'Um, well, if you don't mind me asking,' the professor is acutely aware that he doesn't, and never will, look as well dressed as the man standing before him, 'just how, exactly, did you get up here? The closest road is hundreds of miles away. Not to mention that the villagers don't let just anyone wander through here.'

The man smiles, showing all of his perfectly white teeth. The professor shivers, reminded of a vampire movie he saw as a child. 'Don't worry, Professor Dalvidas, I am not just anyone.'

Professor Dalvidas gapes at the use of his name and Holly decides that enough is enough. 'Quit frightening him, Artemis. You're not twelve anymore.'

The man raises one delicate eyebrow. Holly notices he's thinner. 'You're hardly one to lecture me on immaturity, Holly.'

'You know this man?' Dalvidas turns in shock to his promising young researcher. The contrast between the dark, sinewy girl in her dirty clothes and this pale, elegant spectre is nearly absurd.

'I'm her husband,' the man replies.

Dalvidas is now one hundred percent sure he's dreaming.

Holly steps forward, letting Artemis get an eyeful of her new wardrobe.

Artemis sighs. 'You know I hate it when you grow your hair out,' he says plaintively.

'Did Butler bring you up here?' Holly asks, ignoring his comment.

'More or less; we borrowed a solar-powered hovercraft from a friend. They're incredibly quiet. You could be standing right beside one and never hear a thing. We're moored on the river, Butler's waiting there.'

'You'd best not keep him, then,' Holly crosses her arms.

'Well, it's not really up to me, is it?'

'What on earth are you talking about, Artemis? It's entirely up to you.'

'Don't play dumb, it's never suited either of us. Get your things and we'll go.'

'Artemis,' Holly's hands clench into fists, 'I don't know if it has escaped your notice but we are standing in the middle of the Amazon rainforest. How far away do I need to go before you realise that I don't want to see you?'

Artemis snorts. 'Well, you'll certainly have to do better than this. Seriously, Holly, South America? That's hardly a challenge when you think about everywhere else we've been. Try the Cretaceous next time.'

Holly makes a wordless growl of rage in the back of her throat. 'You can't just show up here, out of the blue, in the middle of literally nowhere, and expect me to come home! Do you even remember why I left?'

'No,' Artemis readily admits. 'Do you?'

'You pissed me off. Again. That's why.'

'It was a silly argument that got blown out of proportion, as they always do, and you simply overreacted,' Artemis shrugs, as though wives running away to the other side of the planet to live with jungle tribes is merely an occupational hazard of domestic bliss. 'Be honest - you can't remember why that argument started either.'

'Okay. Fine. So I can't remember.' Holly marches up to him, taking hold of his perfectly pressed lapels in both hands. 'But do you know why our silly arguments always get blown out of proportion, Artemis? Because there are so many bigger issues between us that we never talk about. And the only way for us to express just how infuriated we are by these other, more important, things, is to lose it over the smaller ones. If not, we'd just go crazy!' She eyes him for a moment. 'Crazier,' she amends.

He puts his manicured hands over the top of her dry, dusty ones. 'We have talked about the bigger issues. I am what I am, Holly. If you weren't so impossibly moral -'

'Don't blame this on me! You're the criminal, for Frond's sake.' Reverting to Gnommish oaths in her frustration, she tightens her hands around the cloth of his jacket and shakes him. But she doesn't move away.

'Yes,' he says, unflinching, 'but you knew that long before you married me.'

'Your father became a good man for your mother.'

'Do you want me to become my father?' Artemis raises an eyebrow. 'Admit it - I'm much more interesting as I am.'

Holly bites her tongue. He's right, of course.

'You don't need to be ashamed of it,' his voice softens and one of his hands comes up to brush her cheek. She breaks away before she can be sucked in. But she misses him as soon as she's let go; she wonders how she ever managed to get so far from him in the first place.

'My contract isn't up yet,' she says abruptly, 'I've got another month left.'

'I'm sure I can sort that out,' Artemis smiles, sensing victory.

'Uh-uh,' Holly shakes her head. 'I've worked hard here. And, though I may love one, I am not a cheat, nor a liar, nor a thief- '

'I do not cheat-' Artemis begins indignantly.

Holly holds up a hand. 'Artemis, for once, just shut up. My point is: I'm not going before my contract finishes. So, you can leave without me now or you can stay and leave with me in a month.'

'Or I could go and come back,' Artemis points out.

Holly shakes her head. 'If you go, I'll be long gone before you get back. And I'll do it properly this time. You know I can. Those are your choices.'

Artemis stares at her, then past her - at the village, at the villagers (still utterly confused), at the dirt and the half-feral dogs and the scanty huts.

'That's not really a choice,' he points out.

'It would have been plenty of choice for you when we first met.'

He grimaces, 'If only I were still so lucky.'

Holly watches him, terrified as to what he will decide.

Suddenly, he flips open a phone, pressing speed dial.

'We don't get reception up-' begins Dalvidas, cutting himself short at one withering look from Artemis.

'Butler? Yes, she's here. Yes, obviously, she's fine. Yes, she's in excellent spirits, unfortunately. I'm afraid we're going to be staying a little longer than planned and-' Artemis pauses, listening to Butler speak. 'Mosquito nets? Iodine? You brought – you knew she'd do something ridiculous like this, didn't you? No, I'm afraid I made the mistake of giving her sanity the benefit of the doubt. What do you mean – of course not! How on earth should I have foreseen something this absurd? Not at all- no! Oh, very well. And could you at least try not to sound so thrilled about this?' Artemis snaps the phone shut. 'Butler pre-empted your insanity apparently. He's going to need help unloading.'

'Oh no, we aren't bringing in any gadgetry here. This is a delicate cultural environment. There can be no intrusions from the outside world if we're to properly study this fascinating-'

'You're a cultural disturbance,' Artemis interrupts. 'Please, calm down. I've had a degree in anthropology since the age of nine; I was too young at the time to realise that it is perhaps the most useless degree in existence. However, I do know how to conduct research. The villagers have already been supplied with mosquito nets,' he waves at the dirty white nets, hanging from the ceiling of each hut, 'and I doubt if you yourself are not also treating your water with iodine.'

Dalvidas shrinks, 'Well, if that's all.'

'Unfortunately, yes, for the most part,' Artemis glowers.

Holly shoves Artemis to one side, 'Stop terrorizing my boss. Where's the hovercraft? Butler's way too old to be clambering around in the jungle on his own.'

'Don't let him hear you say that,' Artemis grumbles, 'I haven't heard him get so excited since that time you and he "haunted" Arno Blunt.'

Holly smiles fondly at the memory.

One month later, after she has bid a tearful farewell to the villagers and she, Artemis and Butler are starting off in the still-borrowed hovercraft, Artemis leans over to Holly and whispers, 'We were arguing about whether or not to paint the bedroom.'

And she remembers, once again, why she loves her husband.