Hello hello! It is excellent to be back and writing both Slayers and Artemis Fowl again! Basically, this is a sort of parody and sort of a Christmas fic, and sort of a parody of a Christmas fic, which I'm aiming to get done by the 24th. When that fails, by New Years :D

If you don't have a clue what the Slayers is, the original story is on my profile, and the rewrite should begin in 2011.

This however, is set pre-Atlantic Complex. That is, post Time Paradox.

DISCLAIMER: I'm Stephenie Meyer, not Eoin Colfer!

WARNING: Mild language, which will get worse through the story. It's Clare, it's Christmas, and it's stressful.

…

The Sue Slayers: The Twelve Fics Of Christmas

Chapter One: Do We Have Any Jewish People?

In which Clare says 'swell,' Alex is from New Zealand and Amelia is neither swell nor Kiwi. Screw her.

Excerpt from THE SUE SLAYERS HANDBOOK pages 67, 71

"Working on Christmas. Yeah, it sucks. It isn't fair, but you get extra pay, and like, karma. I don't know. Also, people love you for doing it. It means they don't have to. It's kind of like being a sewage treatment worker […] so if you are working over Christmas, you're like a working class hero, or some shit like that. A very merry Christmas, and a happy new year."

Twas a month before Christmas, and all through the house, not a Mary Sue was stirring…

Screw poetry. Flowery scene setting will do.

Far, far below the ground, hidden under national landmarks, the Sue Slayers lurk. Under Big Ben, Times Square, Tokyo Tower, Federation Square they lie, working tirelessly to protect characters, authors and fans from the evils of bad fanfiction…Our tale begins in the office of the rather good looking Major Clare Martin, who is discussing the Holiday of Holidays, the Birthday of the Saviour with her red headed, ok-looking ex-sort-of-apprentice.

And eating toast.

November 29th

"What are you doing for Christmas?"

"Going home?"
I threw a crust at Alex, my apprentice. "Like, are you staying at home, or going to your grandmothers or-"

"My nana's dead." Alex ate said crust. "Last year."

Awkward.

"But we're staying at my house, and my aunts and uncles are coming over. It should be good, except they always ask me about school."

I smiled. "I've been there. I usually talk about how amazing the facilities are and they get bored."

"I go on about the soccer team. My family hates soccer."

"Unlike the entirety of Australia. God, we're such bandwagon jumpers." I said. "I'm going to my aunts. She's a babe."

"Do they have a pool?"

"Oh yes."

"What about…who's staying here, at base, over Christmas?"

I shrugged and said, "I don't know. But, if someone stays here over Christmas, they automatically go home for New Years."

"Imagine staying with some Main Characters for Christmas. Harry Potter would be awesome. What's it like?"

"I don't know. I've only ever stayed at the Rides with you, and Artemis Fowl overnight, remember? I don't like talking to MCs as myself, if you get what I mean."

Alex nodded. "Same here. I haven't actually spoken to him yet, but I don't think I'd like it. What is it like?"

I thought back to the last time I'd seen Artemis Fowl – it was a 'get back in the game' mission after the incident in the Twilight fandom.

"Uh…"

October 10th

"Hi! I'm a quirky, fun-loving OC. I'm totes original and I teach Artemis how to LIVE!" All of this was accompanied by whirling arm gestures and a high kick. "Whee!"

"That's wonderful for you."

"Mmm-hmmm. I'm not clichéd at all. Don't look at me like that, I'm not. I play guitar LIKE JONI MITCHELL-"

"So you had polio as a child?" I asked, part amused and part irritated.

"What's polio? And I play and I sing sing SING and-"

"Yeah. I'm gonna hit you now."

"What?"

It was then I drew my fist back and punched her in the face. Her nose broke under my fingers and she ran from the room, sobbing.

"A little violent, but necessary." said Artemis from behind his newspaper.

"Oh so necessary, Mr. Fowl. Have to clear the way for Holly, don't we?"
"Are you going to elaborate on that?"

"Nah."

"I didn't expect you to."

"See you around, Artemis. We'll send someone in at about lunchtime tomorrow."

"I look forward to it. I like your haircut, by the way."

"No you don't," I mumbled, slamming the door behind me.

"He's very cool with the whole fictional character thing. A little too cool."

"Do you think he'll try and visit us at this end?"

I shook my head. "Nah, I told him someone else had tried once and they died. What time is it?"

"Eight-thirty five."

"Right. You better get out of here before I get swamped, or you'll get sucked in."

Alex mock-saluted and left.

I sat back in my (leather bound. Oh yes.) chair and closed my eyes. It had been almost four months since The Twilight Incident, in which I'd been caught in an explosion. Of my own making, but whatever. I'd been pretty lucky – temporary deafness, stress fractures in my wrists and ankles. I'd been more upset over my hair, which had burnt off. It had grown out into a vague mess of spikes.

I pretended to like it. Most of the time, anyways. I usually felt like a Scottish cross dresser.

There was a knock at the door. "Major Martin?"

I smiled and sat forward. "Yes, Eleanor?"

Eleanor, a youngish Slayer, tripped into the room, clutching a file. "I just got this assignment from the Commander, but I don't think I can do it."

"Lemme see."

"Oh, it's just the Fowl fandom, and I take a job as a maid for the holidays. I'm going up to Port Douglas for Christmas with my family – I can't stay for the holidays."
This is why I like Jewish culture. Hanukkah? No one freaks out about missing Hanukkah.

Well, as far as I know, anyway. I'm a Gentile.

Hanukkah's the one with the glass smashing, right?

I opened up the Slayer Database on my laptop and found Eleanor's file. Eleanor Simons, twelve, fourteen successful solo missions to date, including a foray into Maximum Ride.

"I can see why Amelia wants you. I can't go over the Commander, obviously, but if you go see her-"

"I did. She told me to see you."

"Well, then I'll go see her. Give me that file. Thanks."

Eleanor hovered at the door.

"Go. I'll find you after I talk to the Commander."

She did an un-mocking salute and scampered. I saw a couple of other kids about holiday leave (we really did need to organize it earlier) and flipped through the file. It was too similar to Hannah's long-ago mission to…how long ago was that? I frowned. Amelia couldn't send another kid that young in, even though circumstances had changed.

Finally, just past ten, I barged into Amelia's office.

"Josh – OUT!"

As he ran, I sat down and smiled at the Commander. She frowned.

"I know you're a ranking officer, but you can be a bitch."

I tossed the file on her desk, and for extra points, stuck my feet up there too.

"I want to tell you a story, Amelia."

"About what?"

"Well, once upon a couple of years ago, there was a girl called Hannah whose name was the same backwards as it was forwards. And her mentor, a delightful girl whose name has been forgotten, sent dear Hannah, whose name was the same backwards as it was forwards, off to keep an eye on fourteen year old Artemis Fowl. And-"

"Where are you going with this, Clare?"

"I don't think you should send this Eleanor off into the Fowl Fandom. He's pretty much the only character we look after who doesn't need our help. He's got Butler."

"Butler had a nervous breakdown last time you met."

"Oh, yeah."

"We still need Slayers in the Fowl fandom. Christmas fics will start appearing in less than twelve hours, our time."

God forbid.

"Just to keep mistletoe out of the Manor, and snowstorms from sealing them in."

"She wants to go to Port Douglas with her family. I say, let her."

"Who can go in? You don't think I haven't looked? America has covered Christmas for the past five years. They say it's our turn, and England agrees."

"Why doesn't England do it?"

"Covered for the five years before that."
"Ah. Do we have any Jewish people?"

"Nope, checked."
"Crazy parents?"

"No." Amelia typed away on her computer, then turned the screen to face me. "We need a young woman with experience. Guys just don't cut it there, Angeline Fowl doesn't hire them. They're all blocked out, apart from Eleanor. Most of them missed New Years and a birthday. Eleanor didn't."

"I'll go."

I didn't mean to say it. I love Christmas at home. We all go to my aunt's place and they have a pool and a Wii. And for once, no one argues and-

"You? You'll go?"

I sighed. "It's probably going to be my last Christmas with the Slayers anyway. I'm over this."

Amelia picked up her pen, then dropped it. "Why?"

I smiled at her. "You know why."

"Well…sorry. Yeah."

"So, what's the mission exactly?"

"Fowl manor. Stay there from the first of December till the thirteenth, come home for the fourteenth-"

I picked up the file and flicked through it. "Yep. Back in on the fifteenth, till the twenty-eighth. Someone else comes in. Stop Holly from visiting. When this fails – shouldn't that be if – halt all romantic activities. These are listed over the page."

"Don't read those out loud."

I glared at Amelia. "I wasn't planning on it. I'll go ring my mum and pack."

"Thanks for this, Clare. Hey, I wouldn't even try stopping Holly visiting. Hayley tried once, she was fired."

"I won't. I better get a damn big Christmas basket."

I took the file and left Amelia's office. The Commanders office is up a flight of steps and overlooks the whole work area. Because of the extra height (oh, it was so nice to feel tall) I could see Eleanor's cubicle. She looked up at me, and I grinned.

"ELEANOR!" I yelled. "YOU'RE GOING HOME FOR CHRISTMAS! AIN'T THAT SWELL?"
"SHUT UP, CLARE!" shouted Amelia.

"SCREW YOU, COMMANDER!"

So. People who are wondering what happened to the Twilight story…all will be revealed, very slowly. We're going straight into PLOT PLOT PLOT next chapter, and I'm actually looking for Christmas fic clichés. I have twelve, but if there are any that really tick you off, let me hear about them…in a REVIEW!

Also, references. One for the Turtles (they're a band) one for Mr. John Lennon, one for Leviathan and one for Harry Potter. Tell me if you spot them :D

-Nicola.