So. Hello again. Welcome to what seems to be becoming the traditional, annual, end of year, Wolfy fic. It's the sequel to last year's 'A Kindred Christmas', so welcome back to those of you who read that. (Remember when I said I would try to get it finished 'over the next few days'? Ha. Ha. Who believed me on that? Because I didn't believe me. July, if you're interested. That was when it got done. Christmas in July.)

Those of you that haven't, feel free to binge-read that first one if you like. If you can't be arsed, I entirely understand and this should work as a standalone just fine.

So here we go. In celebration of the release of the Artemis Fowl Movie Teaser Trailer, here is my next 55K+ word fic.

Enjoy. Buckle up. It's gonna be another bumpy ride.

WARNINGS: strong language from the start, violence, bloodshed, guns and badassery throughout.

DISCLAIMER: Colfer's characters if you recognise them from anything that might get made into a film one day, mine if you only know them from me.

PROLOGUE

'SUITED AND BOOTED'

Definition: Ready for something big

Fowl Manor, Dublin

"I wish to take him along, is it really that much to ask?" snapped the eleven-year-old, a little impertinently, it had to be said.

"Timmy, dear – your father has spoken," said his mother. "And besides, you'll have the Simmons' daughter to talk to."

"As you have said," Artemis sniffed, haughtily. "And which is exactly why I wish to bring along some preferable company."

"Don't be so rude, young man! Sophia is an intelligent and interesting young lady and I expect you to be a perfect gentleman when you meet her."

"I suppose you do, as it is no doubt your and Father's intention that we fall madly in love and join the two households in an excellent business deal within the next half decade, I'm sure!"

"Artemis," his father said sternly, catching the last of the conversation as he came into the room. "You know full well that this social event is to solidify the Fowl-Simmons partnership, but I can assure you, you will not be expected to wed anyone this evening – only to be civil. Now whatever is the matter with you?"

Artemis jumped at the sound of his father's voice, but he turned to plead his case anyway.

"Junior, Father – I would really like to bring him along."

"Whatever for?" the Fowl patriarch scoffed. "Really, I know you have quite the colloquial relationship with the boy, but must you really insist on taking him everywhere with you? The Major is your bodyguard, not Junior."

Artemis felt his cheeks flush red, but he continued more in spite than anything now.

"I just wanted some company my own age…" he muttered.

"Then your point is moot; Sophia is exactly your age – Junior is much younger."

"A mere few years! And if you insist on picking fault in my argument; my own gender, then!" Artemis said, exasperatedly. "Really Father, I imagine in a few short years I will greatly appreciate your insistence that I interact with the opposite sex, but for now all I'm asking is that Junior accompany us to the theatre so that I may enjoy some decent conversation should Sophia prove as monumentally boring as I expect!"

"Artemis!" his mother gasped.

"No, no, Vivienne – it's quite alright," Eugene said, seemingly amused. "Fine, Tim. You can bring Junior. But you can ask Butler yourself. And I must warn you, he is of a quite sensational disposition this evening."

"And why would that be, Father?" Artemis asked, simultaneously pleased, yet irked with the conditions relating to his success.

"He isn't so thrilled with who Simmons will be bringing along to keep him 'company', either," his father chuckled.

The Kitchen, Servants' Quarters, Fowl Manor

"… I told him, but no; four guards they're bringing. Four!"

Myles rested his chin very lightly on his clasped hands and leant on the table with his elbows.

"I mean, they only have three charges between them! Surely to God if you need more than a one to one ratio that says something about the level of training of your security team."

Myles dared to half-close his eyes and went to the happy place he visited on the occasions when his father was ranting and he was, joyously, not the subject of his displeasure.

Alexandr continued, regardless, pacing up and down the staff's kitchen as he went on.

"So of course, that's four resumés to check – and I can tell you they are not worth the paper they are written on. There's maybe one who will have half an ounce about him, but the others are duraki for sure."

And Myles knew his father would be sure. He had probably run a full background check on all four of the guards, both Mr and Mrs Simmons and their preteen daughter. He didn't often let any unscrutinised persons within a ten-metre radius of his charge and family and even then, it was only because the aforementioned principal had neglected to tell him of a meeting. He certainly wouldn't allow anyone to sit near them for the duration of an operatic Christmas production without thoroughly investigating them first.

"So now not only have we got to watch out for an entire other family of charges, we've also got to watch the backs of some downright civilian bodyguards! We may as well bring bloody Harson to make up the numbers! We may as well bring Kingdom – he'd be more use than that uptight fu… Are you listening to me, boy?"

"Yessir," he said, swiftly, sitting up sharply. "And we are to, actually. Now that you mention it."

"Are to what?" his father scowled, sitting down opposite him at the wooden table with an irritable thud.

"Bring Dom."

"Bloody hellfire…" Xandr threw up his hands in annoyance. "And you're telling me this now because…?"

"Sorry," his son shrugged. "Artemis just told me about half an hour ago. I have a feeling he was supposed to be telling you directly but bottled it. You have been a little… ah… fractious, today, Pa."

"I'll give you bloody fractious…" the elder Butler grumbled. But he relaxed somewhat, taking a breath and calming himself. It was not like him at all to be so ill-tempered, but something wasn't sitting right with him with this job and he had long since learnt not to ignore a gut feeling when he had one.

"He said he'd discussed it with his father and managed to convince him to let Dom tag along. I know Mister Fowl wasn't keen, but you know what Artemis is like," Myles gave a placating shrug.

"Probably talked him into a lobster pot and Eugene gave up arguing with him in the end," Xandr snorted. "Have you told the boy?"

"That he should consider a career as a barrister?" The Major said, with an amused huff. "Yes, I have actually."

"No, not him – the other boy. Our boy," Butler told him, with just a hint of emphasis on the claim.

The corner of Myles's lip curled up in a half-smile. The older man was more proud of that kid than he would admit.

"Oh – no I haven't yet."

"Well don't. As much as I love the lad, he's just another fly in the ointment on this occasion."

Myles kept his face stoic, but his heart sank a little; his father was not a man easily swayed once he had made a decision.

"I can't be dealing with another charge when there's already so many other distractions to be going on with," he justified.

"I understand," his son nodded. "I'll just tell Artemis it wouldn't be practical."

"Exactly. I know he'd be good, but even I haven't got eyes the back of my head…"

There was a silence Myles instigated and for once his father fell into the trap of filling it.

"I suppose I should count myself lucky they're expecting you to attend too."

Myles nodded in agreement at the veiled compliment, focussing intently on straightening the salt and pepper pots in front of him.

"It wouldn't be appropriate to take him," Xandr scoffed after another moment. "What would he go as? Can't exactly tell Simmons and his team we just fancied a family outing!"

"I agree," Myles shrugged at last. "I'll make sure Artemis doesn't kick up a fuss… although he was planning to bring him along as a 'friend', I think."

"A friend? I mean, he does well with all the airs and graces bullshit they expect from him, don't get me wrong, but Dom couldn't pass for a Bartelby's brat if he tried!"

"Well, I was thinking of letting him have his Christmas present from me a little early," Myles told him nonchalantly. "To help him play the part."

"What's that? That gun holster I'll bet Theresa won't be pleased about when she finds out?"

"Not that – although you're right, she isn't," Myles admitted. "You remember I took him with me when Artemis was being measured up for the suit he's to be wearing at the Yule Ball?" he asked.

Xandr grunted a response. "A suit?"

"Yes, well – Dom was curious…"

"When is he not?" the boy's grandfather said, a little fondly, a little exasperatedly.

"… and Artemis suggested he get measured up too."

"He's not all bad, your charge," the Butler admitted. "A little too conceited and belligerent at times, perhaps. But his heart is in the right place if he lets it be."

"Quite," Myles agreed. "Well, short story is I spoke to the tailor afterwards on the phone and he still had the measurements in his pocket. So… Dom has a suit."

"What kind?" he said, after a moment.

"Black two-piece. Similar to our standard set," Myles shrugged. "I know how much he likes to be like us."

"Is it protective?"

"The panels are lined with that new Kevlar material."

"Hmm, the lightweight stuff?" Xandr said with a frown of disapproval. "There's a reason things are heavy-duty, Myles…"

"It's well-tested. Not out on the open market yet, but it's supposed to be very good," Myles shrugged, knowing his father would be suspicious of new technology that he hadn't yet seen proof of use of. "Didn't want to make it too heavy for his first one."

There was another short silence where Myles was almost sure his father was quietly grinding his teeth. Although he must be mistaken, for the man chastised him greatly for the habit quite regularly indeed.

"Alright, fine," Alexandr sighed. "Chestnyy bogam, vy rebyata budete smert'yu menya… Go tell him he can come. But bring him down here with the suit – I want to see his reaction."

"Yessir," Myles said, rising to leave.

"Anyone would think it was you that put your charge up to asking, boy," Xandr frowned.

"Not this time, Pa," Myles smirked. "Not this time."

Well, here we go again...

Who's with us?

Ah, I'm not gonna leave this as undetailed as the teaser trailer. I'll just go post the next chapter so you can make a proper decision on it...

Wolfy
ooo
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