I have had very, very limited experience with snow (i.e. one afternoon in late winter, seven years ago), so excuse any serious errors I make with this chapter.

DISCLAIMER: No. Just…no.

The Sue Slayers: The Twelve Fics Of Christmas

Chapter Five: Do We Have Any White Flags?

In which there is a kiwi, it counts, Clare experiences déjà vu and there is vomit to be dealt with.

"Hey! Over here!" I shouted.

The figure half turned. Silhouetted against the sky, it seemed even bigger. If that was, you know, at all possible. Jesus.

"HERE! ME!"

Eventually she made up her mind. Twila faced me and began to lumber in my direction, under the bridge. Just where she needed to be. OK. Good.

"You done yet?" I yelled. Not that I needed to – the person I was speaking to was a couple metres to my left, crouching behind some rocks.

"Done done done. Yes!" he called back. "You got two and a half minutes."

"Ok." I said, bouncing on my toes. "GO!"

John dove over the rocks and bolted for the exit. I turned a cartwheel (landing it perfectly for once) and waved my arms like a spaz. All the while I was counting down from one hundred and eighty seconds. Once Twila was within grabbing distance (her grabbing distance, not mine) I began to back away, veering slightly to the left.

This would have worked. Except for the Something that grabbed me from behind and pulled me back, back into the darkness…

December 10

…Someone was tapping me.

"Goddammit Beckett! I was having a flashback!"

As if it was an apology, he stuck a car in my face. I took it and spun the wheels absently.

Myles sneezed and snuffled.

I had finally made my decision. On my departure, I was going to give Angeline Fowl the 'Most Negligent Parent' award; a trophy prized amongst rich idiots and B-List celebrity parents. In the past three days Angeline had left the twins with me whilst she'd headed off to an Irish city that wasn't Dublin, and so, the name escaped me. Before she'd left though, she'd let Beckett and Myles run around in the snow without hats on.

Mistake. There's a reason why I don't head outside in minus temperature without a whole wardrobe on. They'd caught a cold and I'd been up for two nights looking after them.

Maybe it hadn't been a flashback. Perhaps it'd been a hallucination.

Myles sneezed, and fell over with the force. Suppressing the urge to make him do it again so I could film it and upload it to YouTube, I left Beckett dribbling and pushing a car along his arm and picked Myles up.

"Want something to eat?"

He squirmed and shook his head.

"Nap?"

He squirmed and shook his head.

"Barbies?"

He considered it briefly, then squirmed and shook his head.

"Nemo?"

"Nemo?"
"Nemo."

I stuck him in a chair in the home theatre, chucked a blanket over him and put on Finding Nemo for the eighth time in three days. It really made me respect my parents more – when I'd had chicken pox as a kid; I'd watched Basil The Great Mouse Detective seventeen times in a week. That Basil was a fox.

Sorry for the confusing analogy. Anyway.

I left the twins gaping at the screen and hurried downstairs. I'd missed out on breakfast, too busy trying to get them to eat. Artemis and Holly had made no effort to help, and had retired to the library to read some Gothic Fiction. I assumed they meant Anne Rice. I was going to have to vacuum in there again…

I was in the pantry when the phone rang.

"Hello? Ow."

"Hi Clare, tis Alex."

"Oh, hey."

"What's ow?"

"A tin of-" I squinted in the darkness. "Soup. That'll do. What is up?"

"I'm offering my services for the day."

"Are you?" I stumbled from the pantry and was blinded by the lights of the kitchen. "Where are the bowls, and why?"

"I'm going home in two days and if I don't, Amelia's sending me to the Percy Jackson fandom."

I poured the soup (tomato) in a bowl and stuck it in the microwave. "You are not going to the PJO fandom without me and a full battalion, young man. That's out of the question."

"Yes mum."

I felt very awkward for a moment, so I distracted myself with a spoon. "I'd like to have you here. Artemis and Holly are planning on going for a walk in the snow once I've made them lunch-"

"You…make lunch?"

"Stop laughing. Anyway, and I can't track them. I can't leave the twins."

"Won't Happy Christmas Story Plot keep them safe?"

"No, these two are free agents. They're just as happy killing moments as they are making them."

"Alright. I'll be there at twelve thirty."

The microwave beeped and I lifted out my soup. Mmmm. "Yes. Good. See you in…Jesus, is it only nine?"

"Not here, but it is where you are."

I hung up on him and headed back upstairs. I'd eat my soup, and I'd vacuum so hard it'd make Hurricane Katrina jealous.

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After making Hurricane Katrina green with envy (and Artemis red with anger) I forced some soup (chicken noodle. Cliché and classic) down the twins throats.

"Better?" I asked.

Myles nodded.

Beckett retched and threw up on my feet. Thankfully I was wearing shoes. Shaking off the déjà vu I was getting, I sighed, stomped past Holly and Artemis (again, they didn't even notice) and through the caterer's door. I stood there for a while, kicking idly and occasionally scraping the sides of my runners on the stairs. I deal with vomit a lot. Can you tell?

"Miss Martin!" called Artemis. "We're still waiting for our food."

"You can wait just a little longer." I said.

I heard Holly laugh, and Myles sneeze.

Scrape, scrape, scrape. Where was Alex? It was nearly one. I frowned and inspected my shoes. I'd learnt my lesson from Chapter Two and they were a slightly older pair. Clean enough. I was about to turn and go inside again – stupid apprentice – when I caught a glimpse of something red in the distance. Aha.

I went back inside and quickly made cups of tea for Holly and Artemis, before going outside again. Alex was waiting for me in a white coat and blue jeans. Thankfully, they were mostly covered by heavy white boots. Slayer snow gear – white, waterproof, blood proof and guaranteed not to stain. It was kind of like a ducks back.

"Borrowed it from England." he said, and pulled up the hood, covering his hair.

"Yeah, that was probably a good idea." I said. "Look, I have to go clean up sick, but you'll see Arty and Holly when they come out. Just don't let them-"

"I know what I'm looking for. I've worked with you and Matt, remember?"

We both laughed for a second, then we remembered. Yeah.

"Radio?" asked Alex. He offered me a pale grey handheld.

"Don't mind if I do. I've got to get back in. You wait around the fountain, you can see the front door from there."

Alex saluted and jogged off. I scraped my shoes one more time and went back inside.

"Sorry about that, Mr. Fowl. What would you like for lunch?"

"Butler usually decides."

I pursed my lips. "Where is Butler? I haven't seen him for a while."

"Holiday. It's his vacation."

That never happened. Butler would never leave Artemis for…ugh. I'd forgotten I was in a Christmas fic.

"Right. Pasta? Vegetarian, of course."

Holly smiled and nodded.

I set to work. I'd clean up that vomit later.

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Dishes and a mop and some disinfectant later, I hustled the twins upstairs and into their beds. They were asleep within minutes, and I ran around trying to do my daily clean, something I was ridiculously behind on. I was up on a chair, trying to scare a spider into a vent with a broom when Artemis came up behind me.

"It's venomous," he said.

I turned and jumped down. "It's innocent. As far as I know, it hasn't hurt anyone. I don't kill innocent things…how venomous?"

"Holly and I are going outside for a walk."

"I don't want to come."

"I wasn't inviting you."

"I know. I just wanted to make this conversation awkward. Don't forget your scarf."

"Don't forget yours."

"What makes you so sure I'm gonna follow you?"

"It's your job."

I watched the spider scuttle into the vent and out of sight. Perhaps it symbolized something. Then again, considering it was an Artemis Fowl fanfic, perhaps not.

I watched him walk away. I waited until I heard the huge front door open and slam shut.

And then I pulled my binoculars from behind the vacuum cleaner and ran to the window, peeping through the ugly lace curtain. Artemis, in a black coat and Holly in an emerald, probably coil heated one, made their way down the main path. Right towards the fountain.

Artemis was smart. I was smarter. Or…genre savvier, but that counts. Holly and Artemis kept walking and talking. I squinted. Yep. Holding hands. And let me tell you something, that I think you'll understand. That was not a good thing.

"Alex." I said into the radio. "Wo bist du?"

"Ten metres behind the fountain. I'm half under a snowdrift."

"Funky. Do you see them?"

"…No, I can't see the only dark things in this entire landscape."

"Don't talk back to me."

"I can and…see you."

Artemis and Holly were at the fountain now, tracing things in the frost. I hated that fountain. It was of some ugly bearded man and a dolphin. In winter it looked almost pretty as it was all obscured by snow and frost, with frozen arcs of water. In summer, however, it was foul. I'd been swimming in it – if you can call fighting Sues swimming – and there was mould all over the bottom.

I dragged my chair over and sat, gazing through my binoculars. Through the lenses I could see Alex backing away from the pair by reverse commando crawling, wiping away his tracks with his arm.

Hey, they get more snow in New Zealand, ok? And we've got dirt – red dirt.

"CALARE!" screamed Beckett.

I jumped, and dropped the binoculars. They bounced on the carpet, narrowly missing the-JESUS. The spider had crawled out of the vent and was on the floor by my foot. Without thinking, I damn near flipped out of my chair and slammed my foot down on it.

I shuddered. You know that one shudder you get after you've killed a spider? Even Slayers do it. Then I realized.

"Fuck."

I'd just cleaned that floor.

I left the ex-venomous ex-spider oozing on my carpet and ran down to the twin's room, my hands still shaking.

"What is it, sweetie?"

"I'm hungry."

Yeah, not worth running for. "Well, I gave you something but you ruined the floor with it. Do you want toast?"

He sniffed, as if that was a proper answer. I reached down and picked him up. He still felt hot.

"How's things, Alex?" I asked on the way downstairs.

"Aren't you at the window?"

"No, moron."

He sighed. Over the radio it was a rush of static. "I'm behind one of the oak trees. The couple is twenty metres away, building a snowman. It's hideous."

I nodded. "Right. Well, I'll be away from the window for-" I glanced at Beckett. He looked seriously grumpy. "About ten minutes. I'll be in the kitchen."

"Where a woman should be."

"Yes, whatever you say." Dick.

"Toast?" I asked.

Beckett sighed. "Spose."

"You spose. Wunderbar."

"Icky gasson."

"Yessir."

"Hank Marvin."

"Indeed." I deposited him in his high chair, and jumped when the intercom clicked on.

"Clare, I'm wake."

"Myles?"

Beckett nodded vigorously. I rolled my eyes and stomped upstairs to get the other Fowl child. I stopped for a quick look out the window. Yep. Artemis and Holly had made a snowman and were in the process of making a snowgirl for it. Him. Whatever.

They were both hideous, by the way. I could've made a better one, considering my prowess with sandcastles. Does talent with sandcastles translate to talent with snowmen? Someone let me know.

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Twins, toast and twenty minutes later, I was getting antsy. I hadn't heard from Alex.

The twins, on the other hand, were looking better. Beckett didn't throw up, so that was a nice change.
"Nemo?" I asked.

Myles shook his head. "Egypt."

"Mmhmm!" said Beckett. "Prince."

"So you want to travel and you're going to be gay?" I asked. "Funny, my money was on Myles."

Myles sighed just like Artemis. "Prince of Egypt."

"Ah." I said. "Come on, then."

I knew Artemis didn't like them watching films with religious themes, but screw him. It had Ofra Haza in it. It was culture.

I left them parting the Red Sea and went back to the window.

Oh, no.

Artemis and Holly were having a snowball fight. A strangely intimate snowball fight.

"Clare, pick up."

"I'm here."

"What do I do? I can't stop them…well, are you watching?"

"Yep." I watched in horror as Artemis rubbed snow into Holly's hair, and sighed with relief when she ducked and rolled away. "This is terrible. They'll end up rolling around and…I'm coming out there."

"Well, hurry."

I ran to Angeline's second wardrobe and borrowed one of her old coats – white faux fur and floor length– before running to my own room and finding my white skinny jeans. I had one white t-shirt, which I squeezed into, but no white shoes. I did, however, have light grey Converse. White Beanie. No white scarf. I only had my black and red football one.

Screw it.

I found white gloves in the coat pocket and stuck them on, before sliding down the banister and running out the caterers exit, in an arch around Artemis and Holly.

Well, that was the plan. The snow was too deep for a run, so I ended up sort of wading across the yard, keeping low. It was kind of like being in the ocean in Australia, looking out for sharks, jellyfish and stonefish. Except it was cold and I was in a coat.

And beginning to snow, again.

Hmmm.

Moving on. Keeping an eye on Artemis and Holly (they were making snow angels. Losers.), I headed for the row of oak trees. They looked more like massive white mushrooms. Finally, huffing and puffing (and against all natural laws, sweating slightly), I made it behind the first trunk, glanced up, commandoed over to the second tree and finally slumped against it. Alex could come to me - this was a better angle for what I had planned, anyway.

"Right." I said, once he'd made his way through the snow. "What have you got on underneath that coat?"

"Is now the time?"

I glared at him.

"Jeans and like, three jumpers."

I kept glaring.

Alex sighed. "They're blue and red."

"You're a minga."

"Why?"

I sighed, and my breath came out in a cloud. "Jesus. I wanted you to climb that tree and dump snow on them."

"Why can't you do it?"

"Well, I prepared for that eventuality, didn't I? You're the man, Darcy, you're meant to do this stuff. Anyway, I'm-"

"-Getting too old for this? You're getting your L's in February!"

I sighed, and patted my head, checking all of my hair was tucked inside the beanie. "Point taken."

I ran from the second tree to the forth in the row, barely a few metres from where Holly and Artemis had restarted their snow fight. I pulled off the coat and regretted it instantly, before reaching up and climbing into the tree, trying not to shake any of the branches.

"Clare, what are you doing?"

Alex had obviously never had a bucket of cold water dumped on him. After a making a note to rectify this fact, I climbed higher, seeking out one of the thicker, more covered branches. I made it to a rather wide one and crawled along the edge. I tried to ignore the cold, but it felt like my skin was being rubbed with cold sandpaper. I knelt as I reached the end of the branch and peered through the leaves. Just in time. Holly flung a snowball at Artemis. He ducked, and fell flat on his face. Holly ran over and flipped him over. I rolled my eyes and wrapped my arms – rapidly turning purple – around the branch. The bark cut into my wrists but I held tight and watched. Artemis said something mushy to Holly. In reply, she flopped down on his chest.

That was my cue.

I gritted my teeth and jumped off the branch, clinging to it for dear life. Just as I'd expected, a ton of snow slid off the twigs and such and fell down onto Artemis and Holly. I hung there for a second, cold forgotten. Thank you, adrenaline. I watched for movement. When I saw a small brown fist punch its way out of the snow, I lifted myself like I was doing a chin up (on a branch, in jeans, in the snow…) and let go. Once again, snow fell on the pair. I landed and sunk into the ice, before losing my balance and falling against the trunk.

I collected my coat, quickly, patted Alex on the shoulder, said, 'Thanks,' and ran for the Manor. Hopefully the falling snow would cover my tracks.

Hot chocolate beckoned, but first I had to check on the twins.

I was writing Leviathan drabbles just before I started this, and the amount of times I put 'Alek' instead of 'Alex' was just incredible. Do tell me if there is a Prince of Austria where he shouldn't be, ok?

I love Prince of Egypt. It's ridonkulously underrated. Go watch it. It's totally not on YouTube for free.

In Australia you are able to get a Learners license when you turn 16, and if you have 120 hours of driving recorded in a special (expensive) book, you can go for your Probationary license when you're 18. This is also the age when you can legally drink. This is an oversight in our laws, I think.

But this puts Clare's birthday in February. How nice.

I'm starting a little competition that should run for the rest of this fic, and into the next. So, catch the Beatles reference and tell me in a review to be in the running. It's an actual prize this time :D

Thanks for reading!

-Nicola.