Disclaimer: I do not own Artemis Fowl, Holly Short, Juliet Butler, etc. but I do own the angst and happy plotline. And little Artemis and Holly. The rest belongs to some happy person with a large bank account. All I've got in mine is seventy three cents and the occasional mothball.

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You look into my eyes
I go out of my mind
I can't see anything
'Cos this love's got me blind

You look into my eyes. "Thank you, Holly," you whisper. You cradle your son against your chest. We don't speak of what I did, but your eyes acknowledge it. I nod once, just once, acknowledging your acceptance of my actions back as Juliet comes and stands next to you, eyes brimming with thanks and tears. I know what she is going to say. I don't want to hear it. I'd hate her, if not for the fact you love her.

'Thank you, Holly," she says, unconsciously echoing her husband's words. I feel bitter. You're not even in the room together and you synchronize your words. You slide an arm around her shoulders. Bile rises in my throat as I activate my wings.

"I didn't do it for you," I say, flicking the throttle wide and taking off. I leave them behind – the perfect little human family. The stars blur and merge as tears blind my eyes.

I can't help myself
I can't break the spell
I can't even try

I probably shouldn't have said that last bit. I made one rule for myself when I fell for you: that I would never tell you. I walked a pretty fine line there. But I can't help myself when it comes to you. The trouble with love is that it has no regard for your pride or feelings for anything else: it just breezes though, screws everything up, and is out again in time to ruin some other poor sod's friendship.

I'm in over my head
You got under my skin
I got no strength at all
In the state that I'm in

You got under my skin the first time I met you, but in a totally different way. You were a nasty little prat at the time, but as I once said, there was a spark of decency inside of you, a tiny grain of sand that needed to be coaxed into life in the clam of your soul. I smile at the metaphor; I wonder what you would say if you knew I compared you to a clam.

And my knees are weak
And my mouth can't speak
Fell too far this time

I hook the wings onto the outside and climb dejectedly into the pod I had only a few hours before shot euphorically to the surface in, filled with glee at the thought of seeing you again. Or more accurately, you and the baby. Sometimes (and this I'm ashamed to admit) I see you with him and can almost imagine you with one of ours. A tiny baby, with your hair and eyes and intellect. I wouldn't really mind if it looked entirely like you, as long it wasn't quite so pale as a child. I'm sure it would have lots of friends – just like I did when I was a kid. We wouldn't name it Artemis the third like you did your new one, though. I wouldn't curse the poor little thing with a name like that – even if it was a girl. I'd like a girl. I could teach her girl things and one day she'd follow me into the LEP. Or do whatever she wanted. I'm not picky.

The hotshot takes off. But I let the autopilot Foaly installed in it take over. I'm too lost in my thoughts to care.

Baby, I'm too lost in you
Caught in you
Lost in everything about you
So deep, I can't sleep

The first time I lay awake thinking all night about you, I was perfectly willing to accept that extremely dodgy curry I'd ate for dinner the night before as the reason. The next night, when the same thing happened, I really didn't think that much of it. I mean, we all have our weaknesses, and its not like I've never been lying awake, sick with worry as somewhere aboveground you perform an extremely daring heist and the next day you call me on that communicator to brag and I smile at your glee and think, thank the gods you're OK. But anyway, on the third night, when the same thing happened again, I was seriously considering telling Foaly. Thank gods I didn't – the entire LEP would have known by the next day whether he wanted that or not, considering Foaly's propensity to gossip. Although, to be fair, I wasn't admitting I was in love with you at that stage. I ranged through every theory from the mesmer to insanity. Hell, I even went to see Koboi at Howler's Peak to check she wasn't up to her old tricks or escaped or whatever. She was there, filthy and miserable and gods, I almost felt sorry for her. But not as sorry as I felt for myself, when I finally realized I was hopelessly, crazily, completely in love with you. If I recall correctly, I went out and got drunk. I was late as hell for work the next day, but who really cares, when you're the commander? Or rather, who has the guts to stand up to you?

I can't think
I just think about the things that you do (you do)
I'm too lost in you (Too lost in you)

And, you know, it kinda gets to me sometimes. Like on Valentine's Day, and all the girls at work – and there are a fair few of them, these days, what with all the new recruits who think they're gonna be the next Holly Short. Sometimes I feel like screaming out to them, how would you like to be in my shoes? Hmm? I never get to go on missions, the only thing I fly these days is a gods damned desk, I'm in love with the Mud Man who kidnapped me! Yeah, life as the famous Holly Short kicks ass! But anyway, on Valentine's Day, and all those pretty little corporals with their perfect nails all sit at their desks and watch out of the corner of their eye at the bouquets on their friends' desk, watching with painted on smiles protecting their paltry gifts like lionesses protecting their cubs. Well, maybe missing out of Valentine's Day at work isn't too bad… But the point is, I want someone to be the one who sends me flowers and surprises me that night with a homemade meal. And the thing is, I could. I know you think I'm about as desirable as aforementioned lionesses, but a helluva lot of elves underground think otherwise. And some sprites, too. And I'm wouldn't go near the subject of dwarves with a thirty foot pole. But the point is, the only man I want to give me flowers and hugs is you, Artemis. This is a problem, as you are happily married to Juliet with a new baby.

Ooh
Well you whispered to me
And I shiver inside
You undo me and move me
In ways undefined

And when you talk I always trying to do my best impersonation of who I'm supposed to be, not this screwed up mess. But it gets really really hard sometimes. You'd frown if you knew I'd said – or even thought – that. You never approved of using words over. It was one of your quirks that I'd always liked before I loved them. Though, I must admit, some of your quirks made me mad enough to pull my hair out (what I have of it). Like your little habit of lying to your hostages. In fact, your little habit of taking hostages in the first place really pisses me off too.

But your annoying habits (yes, you do have them!) only seem to make it all the more humiliating when every time you look at me or say my name I melt into a pliable pitiful mess of love struck elf.

And you're all I see
And you're all I need
Help me baby (help me baby)
Help me baby (help me now)

The problem is that when I'm around you I'm perfectly able to function. Like when we go out on missions. I'm on top of my game. I could conquer the world. It's when I don't have you around that I slip up. You're irritating and arrogant and rude and gods I wouldn't have you any other way. So whenever I'm sitting down in my office in the LEP headquarters I find an excuse to call you, just so I can get through the day without having a nervous breakdown or killing Chix or something else stress relieving but harmful.

'Cos I'm slipping away
Like the sand to the tide
Falling into your arms
Falling into your eyes
If you get too near
I might disappear
I might lose my mind

Did anyone ever tell you you have the most beautiful eyes? Oh, no doubt Juliet would have told you dozens of times. But I don't mean her. I mean someone like me. Someone fathoms deep in love with you and not just in love with the idea of love.

You know, I only ever went to the beach once. It was at night cause fairies can't go out in the day. But it was dusk and there were just a few fringes of light dusting the horizon. I would have been about… thirty, and was obsessed with my figure and my father and becoming part of the LEP. That was the days when all I ever saw of the LEP was my dad's beautiful dress uniform and the occasional balls they still had in those days and honor and all the handsome elves that worked there. I dreamt of protecting the People from the Mud Man threat. Of course, WWII would have been finishing up just about then, and lets face it, it's easier to be brave about Mud Men when you can't actually hear them all attempting to blast each other to kingdom come, splitting the atom like there's no tomorrow. But I digress.

That was one of the few holidays Dad ever went on with us – Mum was generally the only person who took me away. Dad just stayed at the office and went away on 'LEP Retreats' every six months with Commander Root. His way of relaxing, Mum said. I remember wondering why he couldn't relax with his family. But I am rambling yet again. I remember staring on the edge of that ocean and marveling at how big it was, how it seemed to go on forever. That's how I feel about you. There is so much to discover about you – so far to fall in your sapphire eyes.

Baby, I'm too lost in you
Caught in you
Lost in everything about you
So deep, I can't sleep

At work they wonder why I fall asleep in my spinning chair with my feet up on the desk. They wonder why with such a cushy job as mine I come into work with a face like I'm preparing for my execution. They wonder why I insist upon hosting you and Juliet in my home when you come to stay rather than letting you stay in one a hotel or even the LEP barracks. (Not that I'd let you stay there. They're horrible! At least with me you get a decent meal and friendship. Admittedly, the Aboveground might be more hospitable, given that no room is without jacuzzi and a mini bar, but, oh well, can't have everything). They whisper, but I know what they say. Foaly tries to discourage the rumors, but that only makes them talk more.

I can't think
I just think about the things that you do (you do)
I'm too lost in you
(Too lost in you)

You know, I'm not a particularly melodramatic person. In fact, I'm the opposite. But the fact remains that without you I'm nothing more than a shell of the elf I used to be. Or perhaps I'm more of a person after I fell in love. I don't know. I'm not good with philosophy. That was generally your department.

I'm going in crazy in love for you baby
(I can't eat and I can't sleep)
I'm going down like a stone in the sea
Yeah, no one can rescue me
(No one can rescue me)

Artemis, usually I wouldn't be thinking near so much about you. I generally put you out of my mind (not that that ever does any good. I think of you of my own volition.) But I think you know why I'm thinking so much about you. The fact is, I flew home with tears dancing in my eyes because of it. Gods, I'm so stupid! How could I let myself lapse in that way? How could I be so foolish! Now you'll never speak to me again, and all because of my idiocy.

I would later wonder what led me to your house that day. As the commander of the Lower Elements Police, I can pretty much do whatever I damn well want. And while Foaly will wonder why I signed out wings and a helmet when I don't ever have any missions anymore, I don't have to tell him. This is personal, and anyway, what's the point of being the commander of the entire LEP force if you don't get a few perks occasionally?

But as I near your house, wiping away sweat trickling down my face with horror (am I really so out of shape?), the moon turning all nearby metal to silver with its glow, I wonder what in the hell I was doing there. I mean, it was only seven o'clock. And it's not like I've never visited before. It's not like I've never turned up without an excuse or apology. Artemis opened his home to me, why shouldn't I take him up on his offer? I had before. Something in me is aware desperately plucking at straws, but I silenced that treacherous, painfully sensible part of my traitor body.

I knocked on the enormous door. Juliet opened it. Force of habit, I guess, from the days she was a maid here. She seemed happy to see me, grabbing me in an enthusiastic hug. You did too. Seem happy to see me, I mean. Not hug me. I avoid that at all costs. If you touch me I might forget myself and snog you senseless. Not something that will make me popular with Juliet, I can assure you.

But you lead me into the rather opulent nursery and I coo over Artemis the third as befits such an infant. And then we leave the peacefully sleeping child alone and you take me down to the enormous Fowl dining room where a maid has set a third place. There are no servants at dinner for fear they see your abnormally short dark-skinned friend, so you struggle to carve the roast yourself. The moment of vulnerability is touching and painful in its normality, so I take over before I start to cry.

The dinner could almost be called enjoyable were it not so emotionally taxing. Yet again I wonder why I put myself through this emotional torture a few times a month, but it's a sham. I already know why. Cause it reminds me how to feel, and it serves to dispel the cloud of numbness that surrounds me like a pernicious fog.

The dinner finishes with dessert. We retire to the small private sitting room. I put my feet up on the coffee table; you sit opposite me with a serious expression. Juliet goes to attend to Artemis Junior. I feel oddly like a naughty schoolgirl about to get chewed out by her headmaster for smoking behind the sport shed and shift my feet down with a guilty expression, but you don't seem to notice.

"Holly, we need to have a talk." Your voice is quiet and low.

I nod. "Sure, Artemis, what about?"

"You." For a moment my heart stops at the single word, but I bounce quickly back.

"Why, Fowl, I didn't know you felt that way." I grin, but the smile falls flat in the face of your seriousness.

"I'm serious, Holly."

"OK, OK." I settle back in my chair. "What about me?"

You look lost for words for a moment. "Foaly says…"

I don't let you get any further than that. "Foaly is a gossip who should concentrate on doing his job than tell you bullshit about my apparent state of mind."

"Holly, that's just it!" you explode. "Whenever we get anywhere near the subject of your feelings or what any of the other members of the LEP say about you, you run a mile!"

"You're a fine one to talk about your feelings, Artemis!" I snap, but at the look on your face, I back down. "All right, all right, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said that."

"No, Holly. For once tell me what you think, not what you think you should say."

"Fine." I stand and pace. "I've been wanting to tell you this for some time." You nod encouragingly. "I think that tie you're wearing is horrible."

You slam your hands down on the table in frustration. "Damn it, Holly!" I raise my eyebrows at the out of character curse. "What will it take for you to open up to me?"

"Nothing! For Frond's sake, Fowl! There is absolutely nothing wrong with our relationship!" I'm pissed off now. How dare he, after years of male obtuseness, pick up on my vibes of anger, frustration and passion! "Apart from that bloody tie," I mutter. I really don't like the tie. You hear and your eyes flare with anger.

"If that's all you can say –"

"It is," I nod.

"– then I don't think you should come here anymore."

"What?" I explode. "Artemis, come on. Has our relationship deteriorated to the point you no longer trust me and what I say?"

"So you do admit something's wrong!" you say triumphantly.

I frown. "I – oh – that's not the point!" You move closer and I jump onto your spotless coffee table so I can look you in the eye. You wince at the sight of my work boots on your table, which no doubt is an antique and has been in the Fowl family for centuries.

"Please, Holly! Open up to me!"

"You want me to open up?" Before you can say another word – and this is the spot where I always cringe when I replay this memory in my mind – I kiss you.

For a moment you are motionless… and then you kiss me back.

Thundering footsteps announce someone coming. I pull myself away from you and put on my shield, quickly. I am just in time. A terrified maid pulls open the door. "Mr. Fowl, sir, come quick! It's the baby!"

I never ever want to see that look on your face ever again. It was pure, heartfelt terror. You start running for the nursery as though your life depends upon it. In a way, I think it does. I am right behind you, but you don't notice. Any thoughts of me are swept away under the tide of your all-consuming panic.

We reach the nursery. Juliet is sobbing over the tiny still body of your child. I take one look at him, then back at you. There's no contest as to which action I am going to take. You seem to know there is no point in trying to revive him. I walk behind you. "Get rid of the servants," I mutter through gritted teeth, summoning all my strength. You do as I say without seeming to comprehend. Perhaps you just want peace in which to grieve.

The nursery becomes devoid of servants at your order. They wait outside the door, huddled, hoping for a miracle. I unshield and stride over to the bassinet. I see your eyes clear, realizing exactly what I am going to do. Juliet doesn't – she always was thick – too blinded by her grief. My hands are small, but they dwarf the child's tiny body. I place them on him, and let the magic flow. "Heal."

The jolts of blue light up the room. I don't let my hands move away, but I don't think they could if I so wished. I am glued to the child by my magic, but the sparks do not last long – all I need to do was get him breathing again. He convulses – Juliet whimpers – but awakens. I smile tiredly, and turn to face you and your wife. Neither of you pay notice to me (which hurts more than I would ever admit), rushing over to the bassinet. You lift the child from the crib and just hold him in relief, embracing your wife. You and Juliet look at me at the same time, but I am backing away, running from this place. I rip open the door and run out, sending the servants clustered nervously around it toppling. They don't even notice what knocks them over. I can hear heavy footsteps behind me, and lighter tapping ones – you and Juliet. I run faster through the halls of Fowl Manor, and out into the icy night Irish air. I grab the set of wings I had hidden under a bush. I begin to strap them on.

"Holly, wait!" You catch up with me, still holding little Artemis. We look at each other for what seems an eternity, but is only a few seconds.

"So now you know," I say, letting my wings drop to the ground. I walk closer to you and you drop to your knees to look me in the eye. I wrap my arms around you, mindful of the baby, but because of him, you can't hug me back. Perhaps I prefer it that way. I won't forget myself again. "I will not see you again, Artemis Fowl." I drop an impersonal kiss on your cheek.

"Holly…" you begin, but for once, you can't find the words. You stand as Juliet returns. "Thank you, Holly," you whisper, but neither of us know what for.

Oooh, my baby
Oooh, baby, baby

I look around absentmindedly. Without noticing, I have returned to the LEP hotshot bay. One of the technicians nods as he scurries past with a look of fear. I am confused. Have I really become such an inapproachable creature since I fell for you? Or are they afraid of something else? My authority? More likely they were not at their stations, usually expecting me to return far later at night. Their inattention must be remedied. But not today.

I leave the building, still clad in my dull green LEP jumpsuit that marks me as a commander with its epaulettes that weigh more than they look. I sit in the small park bench out the front of the building. These were created for parks, but we have none of those underground.

Baby, I'm too lost in you
Caught in you
Lost in everything about you
So deep, I can't sleep

Perhaps one good thing has come of my lapse of self-control. I no longer have to torment myself, wondering how you would respond if ever I acted on my feelings. Certainly, none of my fantasies ever involved me bringing back your son from the jaws of death itself, but at least now I know. Know what you would say, would do. You kissed me back.

But you didn't leave your wife, you didn't throw your arms around me and kiss me and tell me that you were wrong, that you'd seen the light, that it was me that you loved. You didn't do anything except thank me. For what? For kissing you, for saving your child's life, for totally, completely, irrevocably embarrassing myself and screwing up my chances of ever being able to look you in the eye ever again? I meant what I said. I will never see you again.

I can't think
I just think about the things that you do (you do)
I'm too lost in you

I love you, but after tonight, I must put you behind me. From now on I must devote myself to the LEP. No more romance for me, no more nights off zooming into the stars on secret (personal) missions to a certain white marble manor, no more hope, no more happiness, just days stretching onwards into infinity with nothing and no one to break the monotony, cause I'm lost without you… you're my anchor, but this ship must leave it's harbor.

I'm lost in you
I'm lost in you
I'm lost in everything about you
So deep (so deep), I can't sleep

Because I see that now. I was too lost, lost within the fantasy world I created with you in my mind… lost in your eyes, in a tangled jungle of blue emotion. And I can't lose myself again… can't lose the stability I've created in my life. I always thought that if you were willing I could give up everything for you; the People, my job, my home, my life, because I'd have you. I also thought I was strong, of mind, of heart. I was wrong on both fronts. I'm a coward in the face of love… and that realization comes with a healthy dose of pain and anger, but that's just the way it's gotta be.

I stand. It's time to straighten out my life.

I can't think
I just think about the things that you do (you do)
I'm too lost in you
(Too lost in you)

I sigh and walk out onto the road. But because I'm so preoccupied, I don't see the LEP transport van coming until it's too late. Because I'm so preoccupied, I don't see the panicked face of the driver. Because I'm so preoccupied, I don't feel my head strike the road. In fact, I don't feel anything at all.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Holly Short lost her mind that day (and I mean that literally). The doctors could find nothing wrong with her apart from the fact she just wouldn't respond. She currently resides in a LEP facility for the mentally unstable.

Artemis and Juliet Fowl separated three years after Holly's accident.

Juliet visited at first, but she soon found new pursuits (and a new husband, but that is of no consequence here).

Artemis still visits often. Sometimes he brings his son and the daughter that was born six months after Holly's accident. Perhaps it might be useful to note that the naming of this daughter was instrumental in Artemis and Juliet's divorce.

Holly no longer recognizes Artemis or his son, but she has taken a curious liking to young Holly, whose hazel eyes cannot be traced anywhere in the Butler or Fowl family trees. Artemis has long given up on probing this genetic mystery and instead spends his days as Holly would have wanted, helping people in her stead.

But every time he goes to visit, bringing his teenage daughter, who patiently lets the wrinkled, sightless elf stroke her raven hair with a knobbly, arthritic hand, he allows himself, for a short time, to grieve for what might have been.