A/N ... Go ahead and hate me if you want, I'm too tired at the moment to care. Yes, tis been several months since I updated. Even better, it's a frankly crappy chapter that has not yet seen my beta. Hurray. The next chapter will probably also be ridiculously late. I'm just running out of steam for this story (actually, started running out a few months ago). I don't intend to give up on it, but it is no longer my main focus. That has switched mostly over to my original work on my deviantArt account. (Username girlwhowrites if anyone's interested. Like I said, mostly original work, this is the only fanfiction on there.)

Those of you who are still reading this story: You are amazing and I don't deserve you.

Disclaimer: I do not own Artemis Fowl. If I did, I would not be here.

Unusual Circumstances: Chapter 13

Rebecca POV

Rebecca rubbed her eyes blearily as she once again followed Butler down the hall. He had come and retrieved her from her room a few hours after he had left her there, saying that 'Master Artemis' wished to speak to her.

He finally came to a stop in front of a steel enforced door, knocking quickly.

"Enter," she heard Artemis call.

She assumed it was his study, though she didn't pay it much attention, more focused on the boy sitting in the center of it at his desk. He was typing on his computer, which was angled so that he could see the screen, but it didn't block his view of the door.

"Hello again, Miss Anderson," he said formally, turning to face her.

"What do you want?" she asked wearily. She really didn't feel like dealing with his "I am a gracious host and you are my honored guest" act at the moment and just wanted to get this over with, whatever it was.

"So impatient. Before we get to that, Butler told me that you've been doing a little research. An intelligent enough move on your part. Since you already know enough about me for secrecy to be pointless is there anything else you'd like to know?"

She was slightly thrown by this, wondering why he would even give her the opportunity to find anything useful, or if it was a trick. She thought for a moment and decided it certainly couldn't make anything worse.

She knew he was a certifiable genius, his bodyguard could probably kill her from twenty feet away without even looking, and he was one of the richest, smartest, and most powerful people in the world. What else did she need to know? Maybe if she could target a more personal area it would give her some unforseen edge. Plus, she was curious.

"Where are your parents?" she finally asked. She was slightly disappointed (but not at all surprised) when he showed no visible reaction to this.

"They are currently on a five month world cruise. You will most likely not have the pleasure of meeting them."

"They left you here by yourself?"

"That is incorrect. Butler is here, and in any case I am perfectly capable of taking care of myself. It was their original intention to bring me along, but I insisted they go by themselves as their first real vacation since Father has recovered."

"Are they aware that you are keeping me prisoner here?"

"No," he said coldly, without any embellishment.

She decided to change tact. "Who was that in the hall earlier?" she asked, certain that Butler would have told him about the incident.

"I'm afraid I can't answer that one as it does not strictly pertain to the Fowls. Now, on the matter of why you're in my study."

He turned back to his computer but motioned for her to come over.

She hesitated, then walked around behind him to see the screen. There was a picture of her along with most of her basic information. Height(she felt rather chagrined to read), weight, age, things like that. There was also a "Was last seen wearing" and numbers to call if you had any information.

"Yesterday, this file didn't exist. No one outside of those who had personally met you knew anything about you or had access to any information about you. Now that information on you is needed and expected, it suddenly appears. What does this tell us?"

She stared at the screen blankly, trying to see what he was getting at exactly.

"Come now, Rebecca, it's not difficult," he chided. "Things don't just come out of nowhere. Someone put it there. Someone who knows who you are, knew you were gone before the police did, and has made efforts to make sure the police don't discover the mystery surrounding you."

She was feeling intensely frustrated and not a little bit scared. Why were all these people so interested in her? First Artemis and his "friends", then whoever it was that put that tracker in her arm, the people that followed them in that van, and now this.

"So, on top of you, the tracker chip, and the black van, I now also have someone who has access to police records stalking me?"

He was looking at the screen thoughtfully, not seeming to pay her any mind.

"I don't think these are all separate groups that are so interested in your person. In fact, I'm ninety-eight point five percent sure they're all headed by the same person." At this, he turned to look at her, and she got the impression that he was searching her face for something. If that was the case, all he got was confusion and anxiety.

Artemis POV

The only reason he had called her up here was to make sure she was unaware of this supposed group. He didn't think she was, but he wanted to be completely certain. Once it was made apparent she had no prior knowledge, he no longer required her presence.

"Butler, if you would please escort Miss Anderson back to her room."

"What? That's it? You're just going to drop a bomb like that and then make me leave?" she demanded, sounding flustered and alarmed. He felt the slightest twinge of compassion, but it was not enough to influence him.

"What else did you expect?" he asked, cocking his head slightly to the side.

She scowled at him but left without any more of a fuss.

Now that she was gone he turned his attention back to his computer. The police database had been ridiculously easy to hack into, disappointingly so, but not entirely fruitless. They now had a slightly better on what they were dealing with, though, it failed to shed any light on who.

If he thought about it, they probably weren't even a hostile group, at least, not to her. They had obviously known about Rebecca for a long time and made no move against her, only revealing themselves when she was in apparent danger. Unless he was wrong and the people who had followed them and the person who had put up her file were separate. He was rarely wrong though.

He pulled up another window, this one a profile on her father, Stanley Arnold Anderson. He was short(probably where Rebecca got it from), slightly overweight, and was balding, what little hair he had left was brown as were his eyes. Until the record for his daughter had shown up, the profile had not even included that he had one. Same went for his deceased wife.

He had tried to find the mother while on the jet to no avail. Now he clicked on the link, and this time, something popped up, rather similar to Rebecca's case.

Melanie Jessica Anderson, maiden name Tyler, a tall, rather pretty red headed woman with the same green eyes as Rebecca. Died in child birth.

He leaned back in his chair and narrowed his eyes. Now what was this woman to garner the same, well, not attention, but concealment as her daughter. She couldn't be the same, Holly reassured him that this never happened two generations in a row, so what was it? Was it just another extension of hiding Rebecca? But then why wasn't the father concealed as well? No, that wouldn't work. His job would probably have people looking him up regularly. So, only those who could be hidden without any questions asked.

His eyes darted up at the sound of the door opening.

"Captain Short, don't you know how to knock?"

"As a matter of fact, Arty, I do, I just didn't feel like it," she said with a smirk, then was serious. "So, about that tracker in her arm, I thought you said you knocked it out with an EMP? Why would you want Foaly to look at it?"

"It may help us figure out who they are. We have very little to go on, just suspicion and theories, and it may give us something more solid we can work with." He didn't add that he also acting on a hunch. He despised relying on feeling rather than fact, but this one just wouldn't go away.

"Well, Foaly's busy setting up camp right now, but he might be able to take a look later tonight. I know you don't need to be reminded that she can't be allowed to see us. Is it safe to assume you already have something in mind?"

His lips quirked into something that vaguely resembled a smile. "Do you even need to ask?"

A/N I've gone back and edited most of the chapters. It doesn't have a huge affect on the story, but it might make a bit more sense.