Disclaimer: I do not own R.A. Salvatore's stuff, because I am not R.A. Salvatore. I merely borrow his toys.

Author's Note: Imagine that Artemis, Drizzt, and Jarlaxle have all managed to come together amicably and become partners for some grand adventure. The trouble with a calculated partnership instead of meeting up at random where the fight actually is seems to me to be this. Yes, it is demented, and since it comes from me, it's evidence that I may be demented as well. Please enjoy.

A Troubled Partnership

Jarlaxle slipped the protruding object out of Drizzt's pocket delicately and found that it was a book. He flipped through it. "A journal…" He smiled and made sure that Drizzt was asleep, then stole off to a corner of the camp to make himself at home.

A few hours later, Jarlaxle crept back to Drizzt's sleeping body and tucked the elf's journal back into his pocket.

In the morning, Drizzt excused himself from their company, claiming a need for privacy. Jarlaxle smiled to himself. Artemis, seeing this, sensed trouble, but made no attempt to stymie whatever was brewing before it got out of control. He concentrated on kicking the fire to ash and tying up their supplies.


Drizzt chewed on the tip of his pen, thumbing to the page where he had left off. He turned and brought around his bottle of ink and dipped his pen, thinking about the past day's events. There was so much to sort out. He glanced at the page. Ink spilled all over his lap. "Ahhhh! I'm blind!"

After hearing that cry from the bushes, Jarlaxle was not at all surprised when Drizzt marched up to him, covered in ink, waving the journal under his nose. "You did this!"

"I did not!" Jarlaxle put a hand over his heart. "If it was anyone, it must have been Artemis. You know how he hates you."

"It's written in drow!"

Jarlaxle paused. "Oh. That." He smiled sheepishly and shrugged. "You got me."

Drizzt didn't look amused.

Jarlaxle took the journal from him and cleared his throat, grinning. "Now, a selection from the pious ranger's journal, entitled: Ode To The Penis."

Drizzt turned three shades darker.

"How I love thee, O Penis," Jarlaxle said, gesturing with his free hand. "I think about you night and day."

"I do not –"

Jarlaxle overrode him. "How innocent you look, riding between –"

"I do not think about penises!" Drizzt shouted.

Jarlaxle peered over the top of the journal. "Well, you should. You have one. Haven't you ever wondered where it came from?"

There was silence as Drizzt hotly debated killing his father's friend here and now. He had no help from Entreri at all, and he saw that he would have to answer. "Where?" Drizzt asked from between clenched teeth.

"Your mother!" Jarlaxle cried, throwing the book down. He ran away, cackling hysterically.

Artemis stood there and watched Guenhwyvar bound after him. They heard a resounding thud about ten feet away. Artemis calmly began walking towards it. Drizzt followed.

Jarlaxle was on the ground, with the panther on top of him. She was purring and playing with Jarlaxle's hat with her teeth. "Let me up," Jarlaxle said weakly. He wheezed. "She's crushing me."

"I ought to emasculate you," Drizzt said. He held his journal in one hand.

"I'll hold him down," Artemis said.

"I'll sacrifice myself," Jarlaxle whined. "I beg of you, someone save my hat."

Guenhwyvar purred loudly and shook the hat in her jaws like a dead rabbit.

"Nooooo." Jarlaxle reached up with one hand and tried to take the hat away from her. She yanked her head away. He missed. She shifted on top of him smugly. Everyone heard a series of cracking noises. "My spine."

"He's old," Artemis said to Drizzt. "Let him up." He sighed as though he regretted having to concede.

Drizzt gestured at Guenhwyvar. "Off."

She rolled off of the dark elven mercenary and wiggled on her back, paws batting at the air. Drizzt bent down and obligingly started scratching her tummy. She let Jarlaxle's hat drop from her mouth.

Jarlaxle crawled to his feet, his joints popping and cracking in several more places, and retrieved his hat from off the ground. His brim had several puncture holes in it he could fit his finger through. He looked at his hat mournfully.

"You should be thankful," Artemis said. His face was expressionless. "That could have been your penis."