Rational Intercourse

Part 1

“Semen,” Artemis declared resolutely.

“A seaman, sir?” Butler inquired, puzzled. When working for a genius, one tended to become rather accustomed to the sentiment, but that didn’t make it anymore pleasant.

“Not a seaman, Butler,” Artemis corrected. “Semen.” He ran a pale finger delicately over the cool metal sensor before him, his keen eyes impassive as the detector gave a monotone bleep and flashed red once before returning to its original state. “A viscous, off-white secretion of the properly functioning male reproductive system, also known as seminal fluid, which-”

“I understand.”

“I’m glad.” It was an odd statement to make, seeing as Artemis did not look it in the least. In fact, if Butler were to venture a guess, the young prodigy looked about as far from “glad” as could be expected, but he had been wrong before. Artemis’ facial expressions typically ranged from mildly displeased to passively apathetic, making discerning his mood a rather difficult thing indeed.

For the first time since his declaration of “semen,” Artemis turned to face his bodyguard, his gaze cool and calculating. “I apologize ahead of time, Butler, but I’m afraid there is simply no other way…” Butler swallowed. Sentences that began like that rarely ended well. “I must require that you ejaculate.” The pokerfaced expression only made the comment that much harder to comprehend.

“You…I…what?” A painfully dizzying sensation hummed between Butler’s temples, and he fought the urge to wince, steadying himself with some difficulty. To his eternal dismay, Artemis’ smile was thin and humorless. If he were joking, he didn’t show it.

“From your expression, I can only assume you heard me perfectly,” Artemis replied without inflection. “The sooner the better, if you please.” He opened his mouth, then changed his mind and curbed his tongue, taking a moment to spare his bodyguard a sincerely apologetic glance.

“Artemis,” Butler began carefully, tip-toeing over his words with extreme hesitance in a very un-Butler-like manner, “I realize you are not yet fully accustomed to the exact…ahem…circumstances…relating to puberty…” Before him, Artemis narrowed his eyes, unaccustomed to have his intellect challenged in any way, regardless of subject. “But surely you understand…one does not simply…” Butler fumbled for a suitable euphemism, then finally settled on Artemis’ own word. “…ejaculate…on command.”

Artemis appeared, for the most part, unperturbed, brow furrowing in mild incomprehension. It was a rare look for the young mastermind, and were the situation any different, Butler may have savored the moment. As it was, he was forced to endure helplessly as his teen charge barreled on, facing the situation from the only angle he understood—cold hard logic.

“Yes, well, I realize that we currently lack the prime conditions for spurring a impromptu orgasm,” Artemis admitted. Butler wondered, before he could think better of it, if the Irish boy had ever experienced an orgasm in his life. “However,” Artemis continued, unawares, “you’ve performed remarkably in far stickier situations than this in the past, have you not?”

Sticky situations. Butler grimaced at the painfully apt wording.

“I have faith in you, old friend.” Amazingly enough, Artemis’ hesitant smile was not the least bit comforting. It made Butler want to throw his charge against a wall and teach him a thing or two about orgasms.

Groaning, Butler turned away from his—vastly underage, he reminded himself—young companion, and gave into the urge to drop his face in his hands. “Artemis,” he implored, desperate for another solution, “are you absolutely…” He didn’t bother finishing the sentence. Of course Artemis was sure. When wasn’t he? Finally, he sighed. “Why semen?”

Behind him, he heard Artemis exhale a contented breath of relief. If Butler was already to the “why” stage, then he had won the battle. Explaining was the easy part. “Technically, any bodily fluid would suffice in a pinch, but…” The ‘but’ came just in time to crush the fledgling flutter of hope in Butler’s chest, as effective as bringing down a sledgehammer on a butterfly fresh from its cocoon. “In this case, saliva is far too free-flowing, and blood, well…we couldn’t give up enough without risking serious permanent damage, and I don’t have the proper tools to extract it anyway. What I need is something to work with, a live, cell-based material that I can use to conjure a distraction for the sensors, and give us enough time to escape this cell. Once out, I already have the blueprints to this building memorized backwards and forwards. Escape should be a cake walk.”

Butler massaged his temples, though, if anything, it only seemed to make his headache worse. “And, remind me again, why we can’t simply wait for Holly or Foaly to bail us out?”

“Too much of a delay,” Artemis answered immediately. “It could take them days, weeks to even get wind of our dilemma, even longer to set us free. All of it is time we simply do not have. Our captors have my fairy communicator, and if we’re not out of here within a few hours, all that technology, along with the evidence of fairy existence and my own magical capabilities, mind you…will be open season for the highest bidder at best, all over the internet in every country in the world at worst.”

After the time-tunnel incident with the island of Hybris, Artemis had managed to “steal” some of the suspended magic while caught between dimensions, most of it from the imp warlock, Qwan. Holly had taken the time to declare that the last thing the world need was a magical Artemis Fowl, but, nonetheless, that was what the world got. Now, he was imprisoned with his bodyguard in a high-security cell several hundred feet below ground simply because of one mishap during an experimental practice session with his newfound powers.

“They have all the evidence necessary to prove that not only have they caught the sole human boy on the planet endowed with mystic magical powers, but also that other strange creatures inhabit the very ground beneath us, and have mastered far more advanced forms of technology at that. This is all the world needs to throw it into a second war of fairies versus humans, and this time, my friend, I fear our species won’t be so lucky.”

Butler risked a backwards glance at his young charge and swallowed thickly. Artemis’ pale face was drawn tightly together, jaw set and mouth tilted ever so slightly downward in utter concentration. Mentally, at least, Artemis had dug his heels in, and was refusing to budge. When his tongue flicked out to wet anxious lips, Butler’s heart nearly skipped a beat, and he snapped his head back to stare down the wall once more, cursing silently to himself.

“Master Artemis-” As he said it, Butler realized, despairingly, that he was out of arguments. How does one explain to a virgin genius complications involved with the nature of his request?

“I’m sorry, Butler, do you…” Artemis hesitated. Artemis never hesitated. “Do you require assistance?” Uncertainty leant a timid, childlike quality to the usually self-assured voice, and Butler drew a sharp breath, shutting his eyes against the barrage of unwanted emotions that instantly assaulted him.

“God,” he prayed, knowing he was taking far too long to answer. “No, Artemis. I-” I couldn’t, he thought. I can’t. I wouldn’t do that to you. “No. I’m,” he swallowed, “fine.” The lie felt like sandpaper scratching its way up his throat. “Just…turn the other way and…close your eyes.”

“If it makes you feel more comfortable,” Artemis murmured, unsuccessfully masking his sigh of relief. “However,” he continued after a moment, “I don’t see why it would make much difference. There are cameras surveying this room from every angle, twenty-four seven. Obtaining privacy is as improbable as it is illogical.”

Butler’s ears had stopped working after “cameras from every angle.” It took Artemis less than three seconds after he’d finished talking to pick up on it. Almost record time.

“Butler?”

“You’re brilliant, Artemis,” Butler answered, clenching and relaxing his fists slowly to release tension that had somehow worked its way into every inch of his body.

“Oh,” said Artemis, sounding surprised. “Why thank you, Butler, I-”

“You can come up with an alternative plan.” He turned to face his employer and met Artemis’ mismatched blue and hazel eyes dead on. “I have faith in you.” The comment earned him a thin frown.

“Of course I could, given enough time. However, as I have explained, that is something we currently lack. Butler…” Artemis’ frown deepened, and he tucked an unruly lock of raven hair behind his ear. The movement was so carelessly innocent, Butler had to wonder if the boy had any idea what a sight he made. “I fear I must apologize again, but…you leave me no other choice.”

Before Butler could even begin to consider the consequences a statement like that could entail, Artemis’ was advancing on him. His hands were glowing, a bright forget-me-not blue that danced along his fingertips like miniature lightning bolts. And then Butler’s back hit the wall and he almost forgot about the cameras. Almost.

Artemis noted his wary glance and shook his head. “Don’t think about them, Butler,” he cooed, his voice surprisingly soft, persuasive. Butler blinked and tried to shake his head, suddenly groggy. His mind felt as if it was submerged in fog, cool grey tendrils of mist winding their way into his thoughts and slowly taking hold.

“But, there-”

“There are no cameras, Butler,” Artemis murmured, and Butler believed him. His eyes were so beautiful.

“There are no cameras,” Butler repeated. Why would there be? Of course there were no cameras…

“Just you and me, no one else watching. In fact,” Artemis amended, “I’m not even here. You’re alone…in your room…and the house is empty.” With every word, the tendrils tightened their hold, and a very, very distant part of Butler’s conscious felt magic tickle his abdomen through his shirt and coat.

“You’re not here,” Butler agreed. “I’m alone…” The manservant fought with a frown, indecision furrowing his brow. “But…I want you here. You have to be safe. I couldn’t live with myself if-”

“I am safe,” Artemis reassured gently, sounding almost touched. “I am safe, and you are not worried about me.” Butler felt as if the weight of the world had been lifted off his shoulders. He was not worried about Artemis. It had been eighteen years since he’d not been worried about Artemis. “You are not worried about anything,” Artemis continued. “You are on your bed and…” The Irish boy swallowed. “…aroused.”

“You are safe,” Butler murmured reverently, blissfully relieved. “Of course you are safe. I am on my bed and…” The bodyguard’s breath hitched, as if it had suddenly snagged on something halfway down his throat. “Oh,” he moaned, “Artemis, forgive me…”

Artemis glanced up, startled. Had he done something wrong? But no, Butler wasn’t even looking at him. His eyes were closed, the look of bliss gone. The young genius frowned. Dare he risk it? His protector clenched his fists, knuckles going white, and Artemis made his decision.

“What do you have to forgive me for?”

Butler shook his head, shamefaced. “So much, too much. God,” he gasped, looking pained, “you’re so beautiful. And brilliant. And…oh,” he groaned and grit his teeth, releasing a ragged breath so heavy it almost sounded like a sob. “I love you,” he confessed, “more than a father does his son. And sometimes…I want…so much…just…to-”

“Stop,” Artemis commanded, rather more breathlessly than he'd planned. “Just...oh, dear...” This was not part of the plan. He felt dizzy. He couldn't breathe. Then, his magic dimmed, snapping him back into reality. He had a few seconds more at most before he wouldn’t have enough left. “But don’t you see, Butler,” he whispered, working hard to keep a tremble out of his voice, “you don’t have to forgive me because…" He grit his teeth. Say it. Just say it. “I love you too.” Butler shuddered, and Artemis shut his stinging eyes, throat tight with guilt. Mission accomplished. He looked up to meet his manservant’s gaze once more for the final command. “You were never mesmered.”

Butler blinked, coming back from his daze with an odd feeling of weightlessness. His pants felt oddly sticky. When he glanced down, a cold stone sank to the pit of his stomach, and he snapped his head up sharply. Artemis’ eyes were glassy and unreadable, but everything from the base of his neck on up was flushed pink as spring roses.

“Artemis-”

The boy genius turned sharply away, voice clipped and emotionless as he said, “‘How’ is irrelevant right now. If we arrive back at the manor safely and if you still want to know when we get there…I will explain then. Until that time…” Artemis turned back, lips pursed and face florid. “I will begin making use of your semen.”

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