A silly one-shot in which Artemis learns something…for once in his life. Set pre-Arctic Incident.
Artemis Fowl sat in a wooden chair opposite Dr. Po. Po had been attempting to psychoanalyze Artemis for the past twenty-four minutes, to no avail.
“Artemis.” Po finally spoke after a long period of silence. “A simple thought, on my part. It has come to my attention that you are not a normal boy.”
“Indeed,” muttered Artemis. “The one who calls me normal is the one I pity.”
Po ignored him and went on. “And you are using this…ahem…absence to your advantage. You are attempting to get out of your studies.”
Artemis chortled. “My dear Mister Po, I have no use for these studies. I had learned most of this work by the time I was four years old.”
Po was taken by surprise. The boy was either an expert liar or crazy. There was no way he could be telling the truth.
Po decided to humour him. “Nevertheless, my boy, you must try to learn. Why else would your mother send you here, if not to learn?”
“I have long pondered that myself, and have reached two theories.” Artemis leaned forward in his chair. “Do you care to hear them?”
“Why, y-yes,” Po stuttered. Anything to get something out of this child.
“My first theory is that my mother has tired of me, and has decided to be rid of me for a while whilst she rests and recuperates.” Artemis held up two fingers and then lowered one. “And secondly, I have come to the conclusion that Mother has, in her illness, forgotten that I am a genius and a prodigy.” Artemis lowered the second finger. “Those are the only possibilities.”
“Have you ever thought that maybe Angeline sent you here for your own good?” Po asked suddenly. Artemis was taken aback. “Why, no, doctor. Do explain.”
“Is it not probable that she recognized that you are lonely and sent you here so you could make friends?” Po stopped and allowed Artemis some time to analyze this new theory.
“Well…doctor…I never thought of it that way.” Artemis smiled and laced his fingers together, although lines of uneasiness were creasing his brow, and his deep eyes were heavy with doubt. “It simply isn’t possible.”
Artemis glanced at the clock. “I believe we are done here, Mister Po.” Artemis pushed himself up from the chair. “Don’t worry, I shall see myself out.”
As Artemis opened the door with his pianist’s fingers and made his way out, Po leaned back in his leather chair and chuckled with satisfaction. Even if Artemis hadn’t admitted it, they had gotten somewhere today.