Author's Note:

I attribute the game of Crunchball to the Fan fiction Writer Humhallelujah. The story will most likely NOT be Trouble / Holly, but they will be friends. Personally, I am not a shipper and will succumb to fan pressure. Ergo, you choose how I ship. (This is this notes last appearance, but there will be crunchball later.

Now, I hate to add to my uniform Author's Note, but there is something else that could be a problem. Holly Short and Trouble Kelp are not on the exact timeline. Trouble usually ends later in the day than Holly. I'm trying to pull this back but it's not a precise science.

Disclaimer: I do not own Artemis Fowl or any associated characters.

Holly Short's Diary:

The menace in the air as I walk to the door of LEPtraffic Commander Ethan Bridges' office is almost palpable. I find myself wanting to wring my hands in anxiety. But, in a show of professionalism, I don my best poker face and keep my ferrety hands by my sides.

Left foot, right foot, left foot again, right foot again becomes my mantra. Every single action took more effort than any other time. Releasing my long-held breath and drawing in a shuddering breath, I open the door.

"Miss Holly Short. Now, you've sat, idly wasting time, outside my door while Academy Recruit 'Trouble' Kelp was interviewed. Correct?"

Although I didn't know at the time, Bridges used this technique to judge whether they would stand up and fight for what is right or obey as a sheep might. Or whatever those white things the humans shave are.

"Sir, with all respect, I was physically idle but mentally active. I was formulating my answers for possible questions," I said in monotone.

"Very good, very good," Bridges murmured to himself. "Now, if your squad was under heavy goblin attack, and your commander was captured, what would you do?"

This one threw me a bit off guard. But, I had to be honest. "I would take point and charge the goblins. Their fireballs are inaccurate and would, for the most part, miss. Without the commander, we would be unable to complete the mission."

The commander, by this I mean Bridges, was startled. His eyes were wide, almost bulging, and his mouth hung agape. Quickly, he recovered control, and chuckled quietly.

"Well then, go ahead and find Mr. Kelp outside, and take him two doors down to the aptitude testing room. There, you will be tested for aptitude, as the name alludes. Specifically, we want to look for special piloting, shooting, leadership, and stress-management talent," he said.

"Yes, sir," I said, and left the room.

Trouble was waiting outside, and we briskly walked to the 'aptitude-testing room.' Both of us were too nervous to talk much, just a few short sentences. The door loomed mere feet from us, and I knew I could handle whatever I faced. I swung the door open and trudged in, Trouble at my heels.

I almost immediately stopped, and Trouble nearly walked into me. The room was gigantic! On one side, a virtual shooting range challenged a couple other wannabe LEP officers. Parallel to the shooting range was a row of shuttle simulators, powered up and ready for use. On the back wall of the room was another door, flanked by two burly gnomes. I wonder what that room was for.

And so the test begins…

Trouble Kelp's Journal:

Quickly thanking the commander, I head outside and send Holly in. Then, I settle myself into one of the modern chairs outside. The People have an odd choice in chairs. This one was like a bean bag on legs with a firm back rest.

As I sat into this orthopedic monstrosity, I thought about how Holly's interview would go. I knew she would pass; the girl was pretty amazing. And if she didn't, the Lower Elements Police would've lost a good officer.

The door opened with a swoosh and a madly grinning, excited, and overjoyed elf practically skipped out. I smiled briefly; Holly skipping was a rare, rare sight for anyone. I don't think it had ever happened, and may not happen again.

"How'd it go?" I asked casually, knowing the answer.

"It went well, I thought the Commander would be volatile and cold. But he seemed to actually care about the questions he asked!"

"That's great, Holly," I said, a twinge of nerves leaking into my voice.

Together we strode down the hall, and opened the heavy door. Inside, there was a massive room that could've houses a lain-sideways Mud Man skyscraper. Well, a small one. Hyperbole always was my favorite poetic device.

The size seemed insignificant in the face of all the technological marvels of the room. As I stood in the middle, a shooting range and a shuttle simulator flanked me. Directly forward was an iron door, complete with retina scanners.

This, I thought to myself, is going to be a very interesting day.