Idiot Savant

A/N:  I update again.  Finally.  *rolls eyes*  Though it will probably be a week after I write this, like always.  I only get the computer for an hour today cause of my tests I have next week.  So that doesn't give me enough time to do anything.  *sighs*  Oh yes…  I used metafiction in this chapter.  Can you find it?  Also, please tell me any and all typos…  I don't like them and I sorta miss some of them when I re-read…

The writer formerely known as:  Okay…  By the by, you do realize that you spelt formerly wrong, right?

The Toaster:  Verbil about Chix?  Chix Verbil is Verbil about Chix?  How can you not get that!  Chix Verbil is verbal about chicks.  Get it now?

TeenTypist:  Why can't I sell myself short?  I still think I'm not the one to be writing t his, though…  Of course it's conflicting.  I like conflictingness!  You take Latin?  COOOL!  Peace to you too!

Spontaneousxhumanxcombustion:  I don't think BFW is around that much anymore.  Something about the bazillions of Mary Sues running around.  Someone really does have to do something about that.  *sighs*  I don't like 'em.

That Aerin:  Thanks!  Artemis got on a happy pill?  Ha, that'd be hilarious!  Waaait.  You love the plotline?  There's a plotline?  Really!  TELL IT TO ME!

Tonduil:  Hey, when you do, tell me!

Abigail Nicole:  Oh yes, Isis is very fun to write, xD  Wow, me…  win something?  Amazing.  *blushes*

Maru:  Glad you like it!

Smiling_idiot:  Yes, that is very true…  You'll be quite scared of Artemis in this chapter…

Cyborg0021:  I swear more.

SilverDragon14:  Cookie!  Yah!  *eats*  You take Latin?  I wanna take Latin…  No, it's not bi-polar.  That's when you're very happy, then very depressed and stuff.  Scitzo is closer.  If you use MS Word, use normal formatting (pressing the italics button/ctrl+I) then save as a web page.  That should work.

Akuweaselgirl:  A word of warning about my updating habits; they're erratic, at best.

Black Slytherin Girl:  Thanks.  I haven't been reading much of anything recently.

Scarletswitchblade:  Thank you.  I thought so as well ^^  Yah, my science teacher was funny.  Most did come from a Latin base, but some were from other languages.  He's mainly a physics teacher, though, so he probably didn't really care ^^  Dead languages Isis is fluent in?  Egyptian, if there's a dead version of Greek, Greek, Latin, Gaelic…  Those are the ones she could hold a half decent conversation in.  Of course, she'd have to switch to English every now and then.  And she knows a word or two in a few other languages.  Current languages she speaks?  English (duh), Russian (she spent a few years there as a young kid.  Not extremely good at it, still needs a translator), French and whatever ones I wish to throw in.  *laughs*  French is her second language for some reason or other.  Weird considering her heritage…  Isis mother, paranoid?  Probably.  She decided that since she let her daughter run loose as a kid, now that she's an adult, she must be monitored at all times.

Lost-dreamer16:  Thanks.  Me, update soon?  Like that'll happen.  *rolls eyes*

Syd*ny44:  Thank you.  And I'll say it again.  Me, update soon?

Starry-eyed-twit:  *looks at name*  Well, I think you're a fan of the Lamentations of a Starry Eyed Twit.  So am I ^^  Heeeey…  It has only been, uh…  One day less than two months (actually, two days…  The leap year and all)  I update now?

The OddBird:  Of course it reminds you of someone.  All my OCs have something in similar to myself.  Night's insanity, René's physical appearance (somewhat) and hyperness…  Isis' rambling…

LuluLABs23:  Both, I think…  Different branches of it, I guess.  No, Artemis' personalities do not have names.  And there is no 'main' one.  Each is triggered by something said/done/seen/etc.  The one he wakes up as is the one he fell asleep as.  Thanks, I'm a freak myself.  And a nerd.  It's all good.

Mir-Kitty:  DAMN YOU!!!  YOU BEAT ME TO IT!  *grumbles*  I was gunna find you first, oh yes I was…  But Mage is a lazy ass and spends too much time on DevART…  Oh yes, very bad Mage…  Did you miss a part?  No, if you've read all the books…  Oh, don't worry.  You only read a very small part of it…

Disclaimer:  I do not own Artemis or Butler.  End of story.  Well, actually, I haven't even begun the story so I guess I should say beginning of story.  That doesn't make sense.  Ah, screw this.

*~*~*~*~* Chapter Three:  Enter Butler *~*~*~*~*

            Artemis sat in a dark room, the only light coming from the notebook's glow.  His pale, thin fingers were rapidly hitting the keys, pausing often to wait for a response.  He was using an instant messenger program designed by himself to talk to his "business" associate.  Why would Artemis Fowl the Second make an IM program?  Simple.  By downloading his popular messenger, your computer is infected by a completely undetectable virus.  The virus crawls its way through your history until it finds something of interest, say, your bank account.  The virus then reads how much cash you have.  If you have over two million American dollars, the virus slowly sends money from that account to one of Artemis' ones.  The only thing confusing about the virus is why Artemis wasn't just ripping off everyone.  Artemis himself cannot answer that; he does not know why he did that or why he doesn't change it.

            But back to our story.

            Artemis Fowl says:  So?  Do you have the gold?

            Dark Searcher 202 says:  No.  Not yet

            Artemis Fowl says:  Tisk tisk.  I want that gold.  I'm the only one keeping from a lifetime in jail.  Remember that.

            Dark Searcher 202 says:  Sry Master Fowl.  I'll get u ur gold soon

            Artemis frowned.  He hated chatspeak, 1337 or any of those stupid deviations of the English language.  Especially that one about "shizzel" or whatever it was.  Artemis didn't particularly care or make an attempt to learn it.

            Artemis Fowl says:  You better.

            Artemis terminated the conversation and scowled.  Insufferable idiots.  They surround him at all sides.  Especially that insane psychiatrist who just wouldn't leave him alone.  Artemis did have to admit that she was more interesting than the rest, though.

            Speaking, or rather, thinking, about her, he hadn't seen her for awhile.  Then again, it was only a few weeks after the beginning of this semester.  The end of September.  Also a month from his fourteenth birthday.  Joy.  What amazingly brilliant presents will he get this year?  Maybe a CD filled with loud, rude noise.  Or perhaps tickets to a concert.  His parents were looking into why he didn't do "normal" things.  Artemis wished they would just leave him alone.

            Artemis flicked a few strands of dark hair out of his eyes and opened a word processor.  Time to do that mindless drivel the teachers called homework.

            An hour later, Artemis shut down his notebook, a pile of computer printouts sitting on his desk.  Pitiful.  I should have been able to finish that a half hour ago.  What is wrong with me?  He asked himself.

            Of course, Artemis being Artemis, he was still done in a shorter time than any of his classmates.  To put his mind off of his dilemma, Artemis stood up to go torment a few of the "smart" boys.  There was nothing better to do; he wasn't allowed to leave the school grounds.  On the account of his father's meddling, of course.  Artemis wasn't surprised that his father didn't trust him, though.  Artemis wouldn't trust himself.

            He crossed the dark room to the door by memory and opened it.  Artemis blinked in the hall's light which spilled into his room.  He spent a few moments in the doorway to let his eyes adjust to the change in lighting.  A smirk grew on his face and he strode out into the hall, locking the door behind him, unnecessarily.  No idiot in this school would steal from him.  Butler was a legend of scariness here.

            Butler.  He had slowed down in the past five months.  It was unexplainable.  No doctors in the world could explain it, not even Artemis himself.  Artemis' smirk disappeared, replaced by a frown.  What was wrong with his colleague?

            Artemis' mood brightened when he realized that there was no school next week.  He could leave this pointless building and go on a "research" trip to Russia.  For some reason, Artemis had an urge to go there.  Another thing he couldn't explain.

            Artemis' mood darkened as he recalled the amount of things he couldn't explain recently.  The virus, Butler's condition, his urge to see Russia, his ability to speak Russian without recalling how he learnt it, the mirrored lenses…  Lost in his thoughts, Artemis almost ran into one of the many people in the building that had the audacity to call a "school".

            "Whoops!  Sorry mate!" the woman said, "Oh, hey Artemis!  I was just looking for you."

            "Doctor," Artemis said the title with some scorn.  Isis rolled her eyes.  It appeared that Artemis was in his power-hungry-superior-than-thou mode.  Isis really had to figure out how to get him in a better mood.

            Yes, the best thing about my week off is that Isis-

            "I was just talking to your mother.  I'm staying at your house for the week off," Isis said cheerfully.

            -won't be around…

            "Do I have any say in this?" Artemis asked sarcastically.

            "You're underage, so ha!" Isis said in French, "Oops.  Was that French?  Sorry."

            Artemis blew his hair out of his eyes, "Yup.  And you better pack for cold weather.  I'm going to Russia with Butler!" Artemis said cheerfully.

            "Why?" Isis asked.

            "School project," Artemis explained.

            "Most people would open a textbook.  Or the more technologically inclined would use the Internet.  You, on the other hand, go to the place," Isis rolled her eyes, "The perfect example of money, power and intelligence gone wrong."

            Artemis laughed, "What can I say?  A Fowl always delivers the best.  I'll see you later," he walked into a room labelled "Men's Room".

            "Why did they write "Men's Room" on the door?  This is a boys only school," Isis rolled her eyes, "And what teacher would use the student's washroom?" She walked off, planning on finding this Butler guy.

*~*~*~*~*

            Isis slipped into the taxi and closed the door with a click.

            "Where to, babe?" the cabby asked, turning around to look at Isis.  Her nose wrinkled as the putrid mixture of alcohol and cigarettes hit her.

            Isn't it illegal for cabbies to drink on the job?  Hell, to drink and drive?

            "Here," she handed him the slip of paper one of the nicer secretaries gave to her.

            "Right away, baby," the cabby turned around and pulled out of the school's parking lot, "So, what's up?"

            Isis said nothing.  The cabby ignored her silence and continued to talk.

            "So, why were you at that school?" he asked.

            "Work," Isis said.

            "You work there?  What do you teach, babe?" the cabby inquired.

            "Psychiatrist," Isis continued with one word sentences.

            "You teach phsyc there?" the rather slow driver asked.

            "No."

            "Then what do you teach?"

            "Nothing."

            "But you work there."

            "I'm the psychiatrist, okay?  Now shut up, watch the road, and drive!"

            "You're a shrink?"

            "Didn't I just say that?  Drive!"

            "I am driving!  Going over the speed limit too!" the cabby protested, "It must be interesting, seeing all those messed-up kids."

            "Sure."

            "Hey, if you feel like it, we can ditch this trip and go for a drink.  Whaddya say?"

            "Bloody fucking hell no," Isis stated calmly.

            "Are you sure" the cabby insisted.

            "Hellooo!  I just swore at you and said no.  What do you think?!?" Isis exclaimed, amazed by this man's stupidity.

            "That you're being sarcastic.  It's hard for someone like you to measure up to someone like me," the cabby said proudly.

            "I'm a doctor, you're a cab driver.  I think it's the other way around," Isis rolled her eyes.

            "I'm not talkin' about schoolin' babe," the cabby waggled his eyebrows suggestively.  Isis stared in numb horror.

            "Bloody fucking hell on a stick, NO!" she exclaimed, revolted by the idea.

            "You're being sarcastic again," the cabby said.

            "You can dream of the day," Isis muttered.

            "Why dream when-"

            "SHUT UP!"

            "Yes'm"

            "Thank you."

            The rest of the ride passed in silence.

*~*~*~*~*

            "Room 251, 253, 255…"  Isis muttered, "Ah.  Room 257," she knocked calmly on the door.

            The door opened slightly, the chain lock in place.

            "And you are?" a man's voice asked.

            "This is, uh, Mr. Butler's apartment, right?" Isis asked.

            "Yes," the man said.

            "I'm Dr. Isis Yannitsos, Artemis Fowl the Second's psychiatrist," Isis said.

            Behind the door, Butler rolled his eyes.  It wasn't the first time one of Artemis' psychiatrists came calling.  He slid the chain lock off and opened the door.

            "Whoa," Isis breathed and looked up, "Shit."

            "Would you like to come in?" Butler asked and stepped aside.

            "Sure," Isis recovered from the shock of Butler's height.  When you're just pushing five foot four, anyone over five foot nine looked scary tall.  She walked past him, black rimmed eyes talking in his apartment.  Butler lead her to the main room, consisting of a yoga mat, a coffee table and a couch.

            "Have a seat," Butler offered.  Isis promptly sat down, "Would you like anything to drink?"

            "Water would be fine, thanks," Isis smiled up at him.  Butler returned it with a smile of his own.

            "Alright," Butler walked through a door, presumably to the kitchen.  He returned a few seconds later with two glasses full of water.  He handed one to Isis.

            "Thanks," Isis smiled again and sipped at the liquid.

            "You're welcome," Butler sat down on the opposite end of the couch, "So Dr. Yannitsos-"

            "Please, just Isis," Isis held up a hand.

            "Alright.  Isis, not to be rude, but why are you here?" Butler asked.

            Isis raised an eyebrow, "Surely you can figure it out?"

            "Yes, I do know the basics.  I've know Artemis forever, I'm a leading person in who he's become, etcetera, etcetera," Butler said.

            "Yup, all that jazz.  Quick question, though.  Why do you refer to Artemis as Artemis?  Aren't you supposed to have a purely professional relationship and refer to him as Master or whatever?" Isis asked.

            Butler raised an eyebrow in mild surprise.  Few picked that up so soon, "Yes."

            "Then obviously you don't.  I don't blame you.  Seriously, I bet you practically raised the kid!" Isis said.

            "True, I did," Butler admitted.

            "It's a shame, really.  Dumping some kid on a man trained to kill," Isis sighted, "Aristocrats."

            Butler grinned.  It was amazing how easy it was to read Isis, "What can I say?  It's my job."

            Isis laughed, "Yes, speak no ill about your employer.  Actually, I came to warn you that I am coming along on Artemis' Russian adventure."

            Butler looked too neutral.

            "You never knew about it?" Isis exclaimed.

            "Artemis…  Does things like that.  Though I don't think you should come along," Butler said.

            "I am, so there," Isis stuck out a tongue like an immature nine year old.  Butler was surprised at her maturity.

            "It could very easily be a hazard to your life," Butler pointed out.

            "Big whoop.  I've seen everything already," Isis shrugged.

            Butler looked at her and sighed.  Poor girl.  Barely thirty at the least and she thinks she's seen everything.  No one has seen everything.

            "Don't you sigh at me!  I've got my mother to do that!" Isis grumbled.

            "Your mother must be a very wise woman," Butler said gravely, humour dancing in his eyes.  Isis burst out laughing.

            "You've gotta be kidding me!  She's crazy!  Crazier than me!  She honestly believes that she's found the writings of the Fairies for cripes' sake!" Isis rolled her eyes, "How stupid can you get?"

            Butler shrugged and said nothing.  They lapsed into an uncomfortable silence, both looking anywhere but at each other.

            "Why the lack of stuff?" Isis asked suddenly, "You're obviously not poor."

            "I spent a lot of my childhood training to become a bodyguard.  You get used to living simply," Butler explained.  "Simple" was putting it lightly.  Off-white walls, a yoga mat, a coffee table and a simple couch were less than simple.  Butler's apparel was just as plain.  An ordinary grey hoody and faded blue jeans.  He looked completely relaxed and as if he could blend in anywhere.

            "Well, that would-" Isis was interrupted by a knock on the door.

            "One moment please," Butler stood up and walked towards the door.

            "Hey, did a girl with black hair, about ye high come in here?" a voice at the door said.  Isis groaned and stood up.  Time to deal with that idiot…

*~*~*~*~*

A/N:  I could have kept going, but I wasn't finished the picture I am drawing of the scene to come.  Sorry…  ^^;  It was impossible to resist the temptation.  Plus, the last time I drew Isis, it sucked really bad…  And guess what?  It's the same day I wrote the first A/N!

            ~ Mage Kitty =^.^=