(A/N: This is my first Artie fic, okay? My new life goal is to have a story nominated for the Orion Awards! Any beta offers for future stories? Criticism accepted—no, requested! Enjoy!)

Angeline Fowl woke up in the morning with two strong emotions upon her: the sense that she forgot something, and the sense that something exciting was going to happen today. As she opened her eyes slowly in bed, she smiled at the pleasant feelings. Being excited made her happy, and she loved to be happy. She had been happy pretty much full time ever since her husband had returned.

Pushing off the thick comforter and thin sheet that lay on top of her comfortingly, she had an urge to make breakfast for her son. Artemis Fowl I was no doubt gone to meet a client this morning—he had warned her of his absence yesterday.

The fact that he looked out for her so only increased the warm feelings already spread throughout her body. She felt loved.

Once in the kitchen, she scanned the refrigerator, shelves, freezer, and pantry for any edible substance she could create.

Juliet wandered in, rubbing her eyes wearily. Car Crusher had defeated Fearless Frog!! While a battle worth watching, it had dragged out a bit too long into the night for her liking.

Oh, the glories of wrestling.

"Juliet!" Angeline said brightly and cheerfully, turning to the grumpy teen. "Really, you don't need to make breakfast for us this morning. I'd like to contribute to the morning meal for a change!" she insisted with a smile.

Juliet winced inwardly. "Uh…I was going to just grab a bowl of cereal…"

"Oh, Artemis can wait for a while. A mother-son breakfast will do him good!"

"…for myself…" Juliet muttered, cheeks turning pink.

Angeline released a trilling laugh. "Well, would you like to join us? You're practically family, Juliet. Invite your brother as well!"

Juliet moaned to herself. She was hungry now. Darn Mrs. Fowl and her naïve ways! There was no way she could say no, she knew. The woman was as sensitive as a pebble. Although perhaps the problem was really that she was too sensitive…that thought was pondered for a second, but then hastily discarded.

Nah.

"You go on upstairs and inform the boys that we will be having…" Angeline resumed scanning the area for food. Upon finding a box of Bisquick, she finished, "…pancakes!"

"Wonderful," Juliet muttered, the word dripping with sarcasm.

Angeline frowned. "Was that sarcasm, Juliet?"

"Of course not, Mrs. Fowl. You're such a great employer, what would I have to secretly complain about? Your lack of sensitivity for lower-class body-guards and their hunger?" Juliet forced a smile.

Angeline's peals of laughter filled the air once more. "Juliet, you should consider being a comedian!"

"Already looking into it, Mrs. F."

Angeline shook her head with a grin as the girl trudged up the stairs. "What a silly goose." Then, confronting her box of flour-like substance, began to whip up the concoction. Only with a few difficulties, of course…

"I wonder what the difference is between a tablespoon and a teaspoon…oh dear, there's a half-teaspoon, too!" she fretted.

But presently there was the faint aroma of pancakes—or at least, something resembling pancakes—in the air.

……………………………………………………………………………………………………...

"Artemis, rise and…oh." Butler said, walking groggily into his employer's bedroom. Upon finding the boy already awake and typing away at the computer, he found no reason to finish the sentence.

Artemis turned around in his chair to face Butler. Butler saw a look on Artemis's face—a look of what, he wasn't sure, but a look of something, definitely.

"What is it?" he asked, concern etching lines into his face.

"I am worried, Butler. Something is wrong. Something is different."

Butler was immediately anxious. If Artemis was worried about something, it was worth worrying about. But rather than sound repetitive, he waited for Artemis to state what exactly was the matter.

"My mother, Butler," he whispered, his face somewhat pale. "She's cooking."

Butler couldn't help it—he laughed out loud. Artemis blushed, but an indignant look sprang to his defense.

"Artemis, your mother cooking is not exactly the beginning of the end."

"She's cooking pancakes, Butler. She never cooks. Juliet cooks. Horribly, but she cooks. And otherwise we do imported food. Caviar. Steak. Lobster. Or we go out to dinner! But now…pancakes? Something is up, Butler. She has something to tell me. Something big, presumably, but something she knows I probably won't like too much. That's why she's making pancakes. I'm worried, Butler!" Artemis stated, his voice growing slightly louder and more anxious.

"Artemis. Please. I'm a trained professional. I know when dangerous is dangerous—and this is not." At Artemis's steady glare, he sighed and added, "I'll even test your pancakes prior to your eating them. Though why your mother would try to poison you, I have no idea."

"I do not find your humor amusing."

"Perhaps that's why I'm not a comedian, but a bodyguard instead. For a boy whining about his mother's culinary skills."

Butler's barely subtle taunting did the trick. Artemis rose from his chair and walked past Butler, an icy aura coming from the angry boy.

"Trust me, Butler," he said evenly as he left the bedroom, "she's going to tell me something unpleasing."

Butler sighed, rolled his eyes, and followed his young master.

"Whatever you say, Artemis."

"I wish," he muttered.

………………………………………………………………………………………………

"Juliet! Set the table, please," Angeline called up the stairs from the door to the kitchen. Little did she know that Juliet, upon being dismissed from the kitchen, promptly fell back into bed.

"Juliet?" she said again. Still no response from the girl. Shrugging her shoulders, she decided that if she was going to make breakfast, she might as well do it all. But what had she forgotten? Angeline strained to remember. She had been excited last night…because of what was now lost in her memory…exciting…Artie! It had something to do with Artie, she remembered now…Artie…she sighed. Her little boy was so smart! And growing up so wonderfully…soon the girls would be calling him, if he didn't call them first! But wait…she pondered that for a second.

Artie went to an all-boys boarding school—how would he meet girls? Unless he went to a regular, normal private school that was more…well, more normal!

And then it all came back to her, as she was placing folded napkins at each setting and positioning forks and knives on the other side of plates.

Dr. Lipton! He had recommended that Artie attend a more normal school! That was it…and Principal Jonathan Strait…it was all coming back now…

He had said there was always an opening for a particularly intelligent student. And if Artemis wasn't particularly intelligent…who was?

But Angeline suspected that Artemis would be unwilling to change schools, especially since he would be entering eighth grade.

She shrugged. This would enable him to have a social life, which even she could tell he didn't really have at the present. This would be good for him, Angeline was sure. She felt excited again!

"Artie! Breakfast!" she called. Artemis was already coming down the stairs.

………………………………………………………………………………………………

"So…" Artemis started, as his mother was dishing out steaming pancakes onto his plate. He stared down at the floppy things like they possessed a contagious disease.

"So what, Artie, dear?"

Juliet snorted at the pet names, but hastily disguised it as a cough. Artemis glared at her.

"What is this all about?" he asked brusquely.

"What do you mean?"

He rolled his eyes. "What is this," he pointed to his pancakes, "all about?"

Angeline spoke carefully. "What, can't a mother make breakfast for her son?"

"Mother," Artemis leaned in, "Juliet is perfectly capable of making breakfast. Pancakes, toast, eggs with caviar, whatever we so choose. Drop this charade. What is it that you have to tell me?"

Angeline frowned. "I would appreciate it if you would not speak to me in such a manner."

"What manner?' Artemis asked, placing his napkin on his lap.

"With that tone of voice," Angeline replied.

"What tone of voice?"

"That one, Artie!" Angeline's happiness was tainted for a moment, but then she remembered what she had to tell him.

"What do you have to tell me?" Artemis asked angrily, leaning in.

Angeline pointedly avoided his gaze. "Why don't we eat, and then I'll tell you."

Artemis knew that if he pushed her any further, she would become very angry. He backed down and began to cut his pancakes into long strips. Butler and Juliet were already digging in.

Artemis, seated next to Butler, inconspicuously nudged Butler. Butler looked up from his plate to the boy, mouth full of food, realized what he wanted, shook his head, and swallowed.

"Artemis," he said sternly, "eat."

Artemis rolled his eyes but reluctantly placed a small piece into his mouth.

He wanted to choke, throw up, spit it out, just get this horrible taste out of his mouth. This was some cheap batter from the market, not the freshly grounded wheat that was flown directly from Kansas.

What had his mother been thinking?

But seeing her beaming at him, so proud of her success made him feel a twinge of guilt at his plan to discard the food by dropping it into his napkin.

So he ate it. Forcing himself to swallow, he smiled meekly at her and faced another bite.

………………………………………………………………………………………………

Half an hour later (and after many glasses of orange juice to wash down the unfamiliar taste), the pancakes were finally gone and Artemis was feeling worse than sick (in the nauseous way).

Juliet cleared away the plates, taking them to the kitchen to wash. Butler clapped Artemis on the back before moving to help her—Artemis's back hurt like heck, but knew that Butler was proud of him for not ruining his mother's happiness.

And he knew that now—once Butler and Juliet were gone—he would find out what was really going on.

"Mother," Artemis started.

"Artie," Angeline started, at the exact same time.

There was a pause, and then Angeline laughed.

"What is it, Artie?"

"Mother, what is it that you have planned for me?"

"Planned for you? I merely had a suggestion to make. A big decision you would have to make, but planned for you? I wasn't going to make you go…" Angeline was hurt.

"What is it, then?" Artemis made his voice softer.

A little.

"Well…" Angeline began, a smile lighting up her face. "I talked to Dr. Lipton yesterday…"

Uh-oh. Angeline had been talking. That meant trouble. And to Dr. Lipton? That ignorant, blabbing nincompoop? Things were about to get worse. Artemis's instinct had been correct—something was going to go wrong.

"And then I talked to President Jonathan Strait…"

More talking. Wonderful. Wait…Jonathan Strait?

Artemis spoke slowly. "Isn't he the Principal of Jeffrey Middle School?"

"Yes!" Angeline squealed, glad that her son was catching on so quickly.

"You want me to go to Jeffrey Middle School?" Artemis asked, frowning.

"I talked it over with your father, Artie, and he agrees—your boarding school is very nice for someone with your intellect, but according to the teachers you don't pay attention in class anyway and spend your time instead daydreaming."

Daydreaming about how to avoid situations like this, Artemis thought, but knew that it was no use—Angeline's mind was made up and so was his father's, no doubt. He realized he had no choice.

"Mother—do I have to?"

"Oh, Artemis, don't whine." She smiled. "You'll meet girls, and have friends, join some school clubs, get involved, get—"

"Get a social life, basically," Artemis finished for her.

"You say it like it's a bad thing." Angeline frowned.

Artemis sighed. "I'm far too busy at is, Mother. Don't get me started on all the things I'm currently working on."

"That's one of the reasons why you should go! You'll have less school responsibilities in your life, you'll be less academically oriented."

"Mother, I have no projects for school whatsoever right now. There was no summer work, and even if there was I would have finished it ages ago."

"Well…" Angeline had to think. "I still think you should go," she finished lamely, coming up with no reply.

"Girls do not interest me. Friends do not interest me. I have you and Father and Butler and Juliet and—" He almost added Holly, Root, Foaly, and Mulch, but instinctively he stopped. "And clubs do not interest me. Getting involved does not interest me, and the same goes for having a social life!" he cried.

Angeline was disappointed. "Artie…are you sure? You don't want to go to Jeffrey High? I spoke to the Principal, and he sounded so nice…"

Artemis barely restrained the urge to roll his eyes. "So I should attend his school because he's so niiiiiiicce?" He dragged out the word nice in a cruel imitation of his mother.

"Well, no, not necessarily, but it all sounds so wonderful, dear…"

"Mother, many things in history have 'sounded wonderful', but look where they got us? Plastic, cars, money—they're making our world worse and worse with each day! You expect me to attend this school because it 'sounds wonderful'?!"

"Well then, because our world is getting worse and worse each day, you should enjoy yourself a little! You'll have school dances and football games, plays and group projects, it all sounds so…so…" she paused to think of a simile to "nice" and "wonderful". "Just so lovely!"

Artemis sat in his chair, calculating. Then he reached his decision.

"It's obvious you won't be persuaded—and if I can't sway your mind, I most certainly can't sway Father's. It's clear that I will have to attend this school, but I promise you that I will hate every moment of it. Don't be surprised if you find me flunking classes or skipping school. I have better things to do than attend school functions and do other 'socially active' things. I have a life, but just because it doesn't fit your requirements doesn't mean I'm a, to put it lightly, loser."

Angeline's mouth formed an "o" of surprise, but before she could call after him, he had pushed his chair away from the table, stood up abruptly, and marched up to his room.

Well, wasn't this day shaping up to be horrible—and it was only 9 o'clock in the morning!

………………………………………………………………………………………………

Knock-knock.

"Artemis? Can I come in?" asked Butler softly.

"Yes, I'm fairly sure that you can. However, whether you may is completely different," Artemis snapped.

Butler, ever patient, tried again. "Artemis, may I come in?"

There was a silence. Then a weary voice—"Yes…yes, come in, Butler."

Butler opened the door slowly. "So…what did she say?"

"I was stupid, Butler. I am stupid, and I will be stupid, all because of stupid Dr. Lipton, Principal Strait, and stupid dances, clubs, friends, girls, and social lives!"

Butler was taken back by all of this information revealed to him all of a sudden. "Principal Strait…" he murmured, then realized what was going on. "You have to go to Jeffrey Middle?"

"Yes," Artemis spat out. "Yes, I do, but I'm going to be horrible. I'll get myself expelled somehow, I will," he vowed.

Butler knew Artemis would get angry at his response, but felt that Artemis was being just a tad bit unfair.

"What if…well…what's horrible about going to dances, joining clubs, making friends, meeting (and maybe even dating) girls, and having a social life?" Butler closed his eyes, waiting for the bomb to explode.

Artemis turned away. "Butler, my time can be spent so much better than having to endure those trials."

"Artemis, having friends isn't having trials. Aren't we friends?"

Artemis paused, realizing the importance of this question.

"Yes," he conceded, glancing up at Domovoi, "yes, we are, old friend."

Butler smiled softly. "Well, what's wrong with making more?"

"What's wrong with only having you?" he shot back.

"Artemis," Butler began, "I am old, as you yourself just admitted. 'Old friend?' Yes. And keep in mind also that I am a bodyguard. Your bodyguard. I could die at any time, and the fact that I am a bodyguard only increases that danger. I have made many enemies completely unintentionally."

Artemis looked away, outside the window.

"Besides," Butler added quietly, "the fact that I must guard you, of all people, adds another factor." Artemis opened his mouth to protest, but Butler raised a hand. "My death will never be your fault, even if I die taking a bullet for you. However, your plans do usually involve risky business transactions, crazy meetings with people of different races, and other intricately designed strategies.

"So I ask you once again—what's wrong with making more friends, if I, one of your closest, can be killed at any second?"

Artemis turned back to face Butler. "But…girls? Dances? This will not be another all-boys school. And I am completely uninformed about the opposite gender, besides the basic knowledge."

"Juliet?"

"She's older. She's a helping hand around the house. She's different."

"Captain Holly Short?"

"She's a different race, although she most certainly is the opposite sex."

"Well, perhaps you can view this as another dangerous setting to wriggle out of, like always."

"Butler, women are hardly lethal."

Butler frowned here. "Artemis, many assassins are women these days. You underestimate them."

Artemis smirked. "They should get used to it. Everyone underestimates me, and they usually end up fish food."

"Well, you underestimate them and maybe you'll be Juliet's little fish Flipper's dinner tomorrow."

Artemis rolled his eyes, but he smiled. "I'm in dangerous territory, though. I have no choice but to go, so—here, let's make a list." He stood up and began pacing.

"I'm listening, go on."

"All right. I have no choice but to go, so that's not a debatable point."

"You could forge letters from your mother and say you're sick, like before. While really going on vacation to…I don't know…Porto Rico, or some place in the world."

Artemis shook his head. "No doubt Mr. Strait has researched and contacted my previous principals and headmasters—this will have to be from scratch. Completely new and original, unique work." He looked pleased by the thought.

"Uh-huh…"

"Butler, should I try and get myself expelled? It would be so simple…I'm fairly simple I wouldn't even last until lunchtime…"

"Your mother wouldn't be very pleased."

"She's never pleased with anything I do that I'm pleased with."

"Well, those things are usually illegal."

"Yes, well…"

"Stick with it for a while. You could actually become popular, you know."

Artemis snorted. "What a waste of time. Those kids are so desperate to be accepted by society that they actually pay brand name companies to advertise for them. Popular? Cool? Spare me, please, Butler."

Butler grinned. Artemis was so refreshingly different from everyone else he knew—his young master's words were almost laughable.

"And being the nerdy kid? Would you settle for that?"

Artemis paused his pacing. "Butler. Please. Those kids are so desperate to be accepted by society that they can barely see the truth that's right in front of them."

"Which is…?"

"They're pathetic teenagers drowning in resignation, despondency, and despair. They don't realize that they're already accepted by society. Each school needs some kind of loser."

Now Butler did laugh.

(A/N: So…what do you think? Bad? Horrible? Good? Okay? I WANT REVIEWS. What should I do better? Besides improve my writing by 1000 times. Yeah, I wish. But really…any thoughts, comments? Normally I don't make my chapters so long, but I actually like having them this length. Shorter just doesn't capture enough of the story, right? Right? RIGHT? Sorry…he he…REVIEW NOW, FOOLISH MORTALS, OR DIE!!! I'll go lock myself in a closet right now while I wait for your golden words of wisdom.)