Artemis Fowl was not terrified. Artemis Fowl wasn't afraid, he was what people feared. But then... that wasn't quite true was it? Artemis Fowl was not an imposing figure, he was at best a scrawny adolescent who didn't get enough sun or exercise. Walking the streets of Vale in the dark of night, without the comforting presence of a hulking bodyguard was nothing short of nerve wracking. Artemis would be missing Butler terribly, if he wasn't so focused on identifying every shadow and noise as he closed the distance to Junior's nightclub.

He could swear the route was longer than he remembered it, but he did admit it could be his rather frayed nerves. He'd checked that street sign four times, he was definitely on the right path. The road seemed to stretch out before him for a moment before Artemis forced himself to remain calm. The meeting had shaken him to be certain, but he would not let it defeat him.

After a long, tense walk, Artemis arrived at the club. One of Junior's men waved him in and led him to Junior's office. Junior was nowhere to be seen, and neither were his bouncers. Moreover, the rest of his men were keeping a careful eye on him. Something was very wrong. He smoothed his jacket, as best he could... his earlier meeting had not been kind to his attire.

The man knocked twice on the door, and it opened from within. Artemis stepped forward hesitantly, and the thug shoved him into the room from behind. The door slammed shut, and he found a long scarlet blade at his throat. Militia, the bouncer in red, was glaring at him. Far from the bored, detached expression he'd come to associate with her. Perhaps they weren't quite as vapid as they appeared.

Melanie, the bouncer in white, had his hands all over him. She ran her hands down both legs, up his sides, his back, his chest

"Ew, I can count his ribs!"

He raised an eyebrow. Surely he wasn't that thin?

"And you're so pallid.."

"Said the pot to the kettle," he grumbled. He couldn't stop a little venom from dripping into his voice.

"Porcelain is chic," Militia smirked. "Rigor mortise is so last season."

Artemis rolled his eyes. This wasn't the first time he'd been frisked, but it was the first time it had come with commentary.

"Are you quite finished?" He asked as Melanie relieved him of his wallet, his scroll, a pilfered ballpoint and a pocket knife. These were laid on Junior's desk. He opened the scroll, and placed it in a divot on the desk that opened a screen. It began attempting to brute force his password. Artemis rolled his eyes. It would be at that for a while. The code architecture was foreign, but he'd still managed to install a few more layers of security.

"So. You lied to me," Junior growled. It wasn't a question. Artemis rolled his eyes. One of the girls bore down on his shoulder, forcing him down into the chair.

"Mr. Xiong, I'm afraid you'll have to be more specific," he growled.

"An associate of mine came calling the other day, asking after someone who'd swindled him," Junior began, steepling his fingers. "Jules Pyrite. I believe you've met." A holographic screen flared to life, displaying still images of the Mockingjay casino. Security camera footage, zoomed in on Artemis' face.

Artemis sighed, rolling his eyes. "The only lie I told him was an alias. And an obvious one at that. I fail to see how that translates to deceiving you."

Junior tapped on his scroll. Another image, a low quality picture of a cafe, likely snapped from a scroll. Holly conversing with a woman he hadn't met... Brown skin, brunette... and a badge on her hip... D'arvit... the officer from the gun shop incident. Of course they recognized her.

"I can see your concern... Rest assured that Holly Short is no officer of the law. Her affiliation with myself and her own actions have guaranteed that." Artemis said smoothly.

Junior's eyes narrowed. "Don't try talkin' circles around me, Fowl. I've done my homework. Before you arrived in Vale, you don't fucking exist." He tapped his scroll again. More security footage, this time of Artemis and Holly, when they first checked into the city. He wore an ash caked three piece suit, and her jumpsuit was so shredded it was barely protecting her modesty.

"Care to explain how a couple of village rubes got motorcycle leathers and and a million lein suit?"

Artemis matched Junior's glare, and spoke surgically. Smooth, calm, and sharp.

"Well that's quite simple, Mr. Xiong... I don't." Junior's brow furrowed, but Artemis cut him off with a raised finger, silently demanding the floor. "You've already decided I'm lying, and the truth is stranger than fiction. I won't waste my breath. Besides, that's not what you need from me, is it?"

Junior settled back in his chair, an eyebrow raised in interest. "Alright kid, I'll bite," he began. "What do I need from you?" The kid had brass, he'd give him that.

"Assurance that neither of us are associated with the police. Proof that we won't let petty concerns like the law obstruct our business or, more importantly, yours."

Junior smiled. "What was it you claimed was your specialty again? Acquisition?"

"Precisely," Artemis smiled coldly, sending chills up Junior's spine. "Now then... let's talk business."

Holly was halfway through a cup of coffee, still waiting up when Artemis returned to the suite, breathing hard as if he'd just run a marathon.

"Artemis?" She asked, abandoning the mug. "What happened?"

"Oh nothing," Artemis snapped. "Just weeks of planning going up in smoke."

He collapsed into an armchair with as much dignity as he could muster, trying to calm himself back down. The walk back to the hotel had been just as harrowing as the walk to Junior's, if not more so.

"To start with, I missed some paperwork. Neither of us are legal adults," Artemis sighed.

"Not adult-" Holly sputtered. "I'm eighty five!"

"You don't look a day over seventeen. I'm told that's a compliment."

"You're not an elf." Holly huffed.

"Regardless, we're considered orphans." Artemis explained. "Essentially, we were expected to find a foster home or file for independence. Once our paperwork is in order we'll be able to do anything that any adult can do."
"Like what..." Holly probed, not liking where this was going.

"Like owning real estate," he spat. "Our contractors and our realtors are having a heated discussion over who gets to keep the newly renovated property."

Three men in suits gathered around a conference room. Artemis and those he had employed, a realtor and a contractor. He was furious, finding himself on the wrong side of a scheme.

"So you see, Mr. Fowl, the paperwork is perfectly out of order," The realtor said through a smile that had seen more bleach than a laundromat. "Without a legal guardian, the contract is null and void. The locks have been changed, and our office will retain ownership."

The contractor chuckled darkly, the smirk of a gambler laying down a winning hand.

"Now see, that's where you're wrong. See, me and my boys have squatter's rights. Long as one of us sticks around for a year, it's ours... and we're already drawing lots for who gets to hang out in the swanky penthouse first." He turned to Artemis as the realtor sputtered. "You've got good taste, kid. I'll give you that."

"And when can I expect to have my investment refunded?" Artemis growled, momentarily forgetting the absence of a six foot Eurasian.

"Put the moon back together," the contractor chuckled. "Then we'll talk."

"You'll be hearing from my attorney!" Spat the realtor, his genial demeanor gone.

"And mine-" Artemis snapped. The realtor rounded on him, cutting him off before he could continue.

"Go ahead," he growled. "Pyrite told us how much you've swindled out of him, and we've been keeping a better eye on your spending than you have. You'll run out of money before this even crosses a judge's desk."

"Get lost, kid," said the contractor. "The grown-ups are talking."

"I hope you remember this day, gentlemen." Artemis said as he stood, fixing them both in his mismatched gaze. "Because you're going to regret it for the rest of your lives." He turned to complete his graceful exit... and didn't get three steps.

"Is that so?" The realtor had evidently reached the end of his patience.

Shortly thereafter, Artemis Fowl II was thrown from the office, skidding across the pavement like a deflated football as the door slammed behind him.

"D'arvit," It was all Holly could think to say. "Maybe we can just get jobs? Try for a regular apartment?"

"Oh we already have a job," Artemis said, unable to keep bitterness out of his voice. "I have to prove I'm not a police officer to Mr. Xiong. He implied that failure would be... unhealthy for both of us."

"What's his problem?" Holly asked.

"You were seen," Artemis paused. "And more importantly photographed, associating with the same officer that arrested his men after the Gunhaus debacle."

"Oh. Right..." Holly sighed, falling silent as her gaze fell to the drink in her hand. Her wings drooped, and she crossed her legs uncomfortably. Guilt was written across her face.

"Nothing to be done but move forward," Artemis said, unwilling to add insult to injury..

"So what's he having you do?" She asked. "Do we need to swindle another casino?"

"No, he wants something a bit more personal. You recall the huntress from the club?"

"The rookie with the blonde hair?" She asked. Artemis nodded.

"She owns a rather distinctive motorcycle," Artemis explained. "We have until Friday to acquire it."

"You mean steal it." Holly sighed.

"Grand Theft Auto," he sighed. "The Mockingjay job was not technically illegal, as I merely played a man for a fool. He needs to know that we're not affiliated with the police."

"Fair enough, I suppose-" Holly stopped. "Wait, 'we!?' I don't think so, mud boy. Lower Elements Police in case you've forgotten!"

"There's no LEP here, Holly!" snapped Artemis finally. "You were never an officer here, neither of us ever existed!" The boy heaved an exasperated sigh as he leaned back into the chair, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Holly, please. You're smarter than this."

Holly retrieved her mug, staring into the black, steaming depths. Sure she played fast and loose with the rules, but she was a police officer! To turn to a life of crime seemed so horribly wrong.

'What would Root think?'

The thought burned in her mind as she mulled over what was being asked of her.

"Artemis, I can't help you with this," she sighed as she slumped into the couch cushions. "I won't stop you, but you're on your own."

"D'arvit."

Author's Note

And we're back! I did wind up waiting until the latest season was over, and I have reaped a wonderful harvest of ideas. Over the next few months, I'll be making a couple of minor tweaks to the established chapters. Haven't planned any retcons, just cleaning things up. Some of the older chapters are rougher than I'd like them to be. Thank you all for sticking with me.