BVQA: So, I finally lived the dream of getting a piece of fanfiction graded in school! I was working on a book report type thing, and one of the sections was to write an epilogue for the book. So! Here's my question. . . what grade do you think I'm going to get? Heheh, just kidding! Now go ahead and read, I'm not stoppin' ya!

Commander Julius Root slammed the file down on his desk, mere inches from Dr. Argon's manicured nails.

"D'arvit, what in Frond's name is this?!" He bellowed, the tips of his ears already beginning to turn that trademark shade of purple. There was a paint company currently trying to evaluate the wisdom of renaming that particular hue after him, in fact, but as things stood it looked as if they planned on waiting until he began to take anger management classes or his heart gave out, with the latter being the more likely.

"If I'm not mistaken, it's the report you needed for your Academy files, Commander," Professor J. Argon remained unfazed. The psychologist had quite the annoying tendency to do that. Although he had been previously introduced to Root's legendary temper, he was also under the unfortunate misimpression that expressing his calm attitude would invite Root to do the same, much like some people believe looking an aggressive animal directly in the eyes will somehow help their situation.

"Report? Report?! Argon, this is practically a work of fiction for all the basis it has in reality!" Root spat, thumbing roughly through the folder towards several sticky notes bleeding angry red ink. "I couldn't believe I was even reading this garbage when this landed on my desk!"

"Sir, this is-" Argon tried, but Root interrupted by reading aloud from the sheaf of sim-paper on the desk in front of him, mangling the diction and emphasis as he did so.

"Artemis frowned. He hadn't expected the fairy to appear so 'human'. Until now, they had merely been quarry. Animals to be hunted. But now, seeing one like this, in obvious discomfort– it 'changed' things." Root's mocking tone slipped away as he glared at Argon.

"What?" Argon asked defensively. "It's an accurate portrayal of what may have been going through his mind at the time, especially in light of more recent events-"

"More recent events, my foot!" Root slammed a fist down on the report. At this point the folder looked as if it had been through one of the great wars, and rapidly getting worse. "Fowl cooperated with us because it was in his best interests, not ours! There is nothing kind or sympathetic in him, nor is there any reason this report should be kind or sympathetic towards him. He is a villain, always has been and always will be. This is no "accurate portrayal," D'arvit!"

Argon resisted the urge to flee the room and continued to appear calm, if you ignored the slight trembling in his entire body. "Sir, I did include in the conclusion that bit about not romanticizing young Master Fowl, as well as the note about extrapolation and-"

Argon was getting incredibly fed up with not being able to finish a sentence. Root was merely fed up. "You say here there's four percent of extrapolation! There's no way that those numbers are accurate! As for romanticism, the first three females in the LEP Academy to read this were asking if Artemis was single! Argon, the way you have this written, recon is made up of unsympathetic idiots and Artemis is the most likable kidnapping scumbag under the planet! He is public enemy number one, and you're writing him like he's nice!"

Well, what he lacks in eloquence he certainly makes up for with volume. Argon thought, feeling the headache start to build up in the base of his skull. Time to pull out the psychobabble.

"Commander, I understand the report may not be what you're used to receiving, however I did go to great lengths to have it reviewed by other reputable members of my field, as well as several people involved in the incident themselves." Root was glowering at Argon, face purple, but the psychologist was encouraged by the fact that he'd managed to finish a thought without being interrupted. Argon paused to allow significant time for argument, then continued when Root made no move to do so. "If anyone feels closer to Artemis after reading this report, it's only through some bizarre form of stockholm syndrome. The incident compilation was an extremely long one, and they might simply consider that they 'know' Fowl better after reading about him, ergo the only reason they 'like' him is because the report itself is so detailed." Root's complexion appeared to be fading closer to normal. Argon began breathing more evenly again. "That having been said, I do have a considerably shorter summarized version of the report that you could keep on file for classes."

"How long is it?" Root growled, but Argon noticed that he wasn't yelling anymore.

"Thirty pages, maybe, but down from two-hundred and eighty pages that's quite a lot."

"And it covers all the details without all this frivolity? And you won't charge us those exorbitant fees of yours?"

Argon nodded vigorously. He was almost home free! "Yes and yes. I furthermore promise that I will avoid the detailing next time-"

"Next time?!" Oh dear, back to the interrupting again. Argon knew without looking that the tips of Root's pointy ears were starting to flush again. Then, with effort, Root lowered his voice back to a more. . . normal tone. It only served to make him seem more dangerous. "Argon, and I mean every offense when I say this, I would not hire you to write another report if you were the last fairy under this planet."

"But. . . Commander, you will need someone to detail Artemis's involvement in the goblin insurgence and I'm your leading expert." Argon blustered, but he could feel the rug being pulled from under his metaphorical feet.

"Argon, my statement remains true," Root said as he stood and roughly escorted Argon to the door. "D'arvit, Foley could write a better report than you have, and he'd charge less. In fact, maybe I will look into having him write this one up."

Root had no idea at the time how much he would come to regret that idea, but that's another story. . .