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Artemis had never really, truly, enjoyed Christmas. In his younger years, it was because he had nobody to really share it with. He spent nearly every waking minute with Butler regardless of the day, and he needn’t even begin on why he didn’t include his mother on the ‘festivities’. However, as he’d gotten older, the problem had progressed from having nobody to spend it with to having too many, and not knowing what to get anyone. He had to buy gifts for his mother and father (what do you buy for people who can already afford it all?), the twins (Beckett was relatively simple, but Myles seemed neutral to any suggestions Artemis would make), Butler (who would always reply “A break would be the perfect gift - but we both know I’m not getting that.”), Juliet, Foaly, N°1, Minerva, and the list went on and on. For years, Artemis toiled and stressed over what to get them all, not knowing what the perfect gift would be. And Artemis hated not knowing something. Therefore, GIFT was created - Generative AI For Treats. Beckett suggested the name after Artemis found it particularly troublesome to come up with one. It operated by gathering data about everyone on Artemis’ Gift List, and concocting a present they were bound to enjoy. Now, this solved Artemis’ problem with not knowing what to get the above gift receivers, and ended his stress about the festive season. Yet there was an outlier. Not in the sense that GIFT couldn’t predict what to get them; it was a flawless piece of technology, and Artemis knew this because he made it himself and was not under the impression that he would ever make a mistake. The problem was that the gifts it suggested for one Commodore Captain Short were never good enough. Dozens, if not hundreds of suggestions were filtered through Artemis’ consciousness and not one passed the incomprehensible standards he had set. Last year, he had struggled so much he had given her a leaf, pressed inside a frame to make sure it never aged, from the oak tree they met under so many years ago. It was pathetic, he thought to himself. A genius like himself, left dumbfounded by a question as simple as “What do I get my best friend for Christmas?”. Luckily for him, this year, he was in space. He’d still sent her a Christmas card, of course, he wasn’t an animal, but there wasn't the whole debacle of deciding what to get her. He stared out into the vast cosmos of space, and leaned back in his chair.
He hoped she liked his card. It wasn’t easy to get to her.
Holly usually loved Christmas. Not because of the fact that at least once every year, somebody would point out that her name was ‘festive’ - it was fun the first dozen or so times, but an elf of her age had heard it far too many times. Instead, she loved seeing everyone, getting to catch up with her friends that were basically her family now. Getting gifts was always a pain, sure, but she always had an idea of what to get everyone. Except Arty, that utter maelstrom of a man. She would swear he flip-flopped between one idea and the next based on the weather, and changed his opinion on presents just as easily. The only consistent thing appeared to be his love for himself, so last year, she’d gotten him a locket with a picture of the two of them in Crossroads, their favourite coffee shop. Simple? Yes. Effective? …Maybe? Once again, she never truly got what he was thinking. He was older now, taller, with broader shoulders and even a bit of stubble last time she saw him (though he blamed it on the low quality of the video call. He was in space, after all), but his emotions were still as undecipherable as ever. All he’d done was stare at that locket, then hang it around his neck and say thank you. What does that mean?! Was he disappointed? Embarrassed? Did she pick a bad photo? D’arvit, if only she knew, she could’ve gotten him something better. This year was an anomaly, though. She hadn’t bought him a gift - courtesy of him being millions of miles away. It was a double edged sword, though, since she was now alone for Christmas.
She’d forgotten just how lonely it could get.
Her brooding was interrupted by a ping from the door. Scrambling up, she stumbled over to the door. She was still in her work clothes, despite it having been hours since she finished. She expected carol singers or something of the sort to appear when she dragged open her door. Instead, a single envelope lay at her feet, penned with unreasonable fancy handwriting. Next to it sat a single black box, no bigger than a coffee cup.Was this from…Arty? She slammed the door and practically ripped it open to reveal a plain-ish card. Peering inside, it read;
Dear Holly Short,
I hope you haven’t been working yourself too hard this festive season. As you are well aware, I am in space, and as such will be unable to spend Christmas with you in person. However, it has admittedly gotten rather lonely up here with only Butler’s sleeping body to keep me company, and I imagine your life is certainly less fun without me in it every day. Therefore, please open the attached box. I hope you like what is in there - consider it my Christmas gift. In finality, in response to your no doubt pressing question of what gift you shall get me, do not fret. I will consider your company plenty of a gift in of itself.
Much love,
Your Dearest Friend,
Artemis Fowl
P.S - If the box has not arrived attached, do seek out Foaly. I would not put it past him to intercept my delivery just to get his hands all over my vastly superior technology.
Chuckling softly to herself, she lay the card on her table, and opened the box. Inside was an earpiece and what looked to be a projector. Delicately extracting the projector and popping the earpiece into her ear, she turned them on.There was a whirring, then a brief flash, and then Artemis appeared in front of her.
She nearly shrieked from shock. Artemis, in his …holographic (she wasn’t quite sure he wasn’t actually there) form, was seemingly unaware of this, and launched into speech.
“Let me begin by saying merry Christmas, Holly. I am glad you have received my gift for this year. Now, do forgive the theatrics, but I find it best to deliver heartfelt messages in person. What you see before you is only the first portion of my gift. Inside this projector is the second half, for I would not stoop so low as to use this primitive technology to communicate. Please, do put in the contact lens that will arise from this machine after my message has finished. I hope to see you soon.“
With that, Holo-Artemis vanished, and a small platform rose from the projector. If this hadn’t been made by Artemis, it would’ve been a convincing prop for a new spy movie. After a wee bit of struggle and a lot of cursing, Holly got the damn lens in, and was greeted to Artemis’ form (again) standing just a few feet away from her, his back turned as he faced out towards space. Luckily, this time she was more prepared, and managed to ask him a question instead of jumping out of her skin.
“Artemis? Are you… there?”
Unfortunately, Artemis was not prepared. He whipped around to face her with such vigour that it appeared as if it hurt and leapt a good few feet backwards.
“Ah, Holly. I failed to notice you there.”
“Hmph. I can tell.”
“I can hear you trying not to laugh.And see it, for that matter.”
“Oh, Arty, I’m not trying to hide it.”
“Ah. Well, swiftly moving on, what do you think?”
“It’s… really nice, actually. To see you again, and not just hear your voice. I’ve missed you. More than I ever thought I would.”
“I would be being dishonest with myself if I said I have not missed your company somewhat, too.”
“Oh? Only somewhat, Artemis? I thought I meant more to you than that.”
“Holly, that is not - of course you mean a lot - it is just difficult to -...You are messing with me.”
“Yes. Yes I am.”
“I hand craft what many would consider a miracle - a live holographic and audio link between someone in space and someone on earth - and it is used to torment me.”
“I can see that stupid smirk on your face thanks to your so-called ‘miracle of technology’. You do know that, right? Also, I’m unsurprised to see you’re still just as humble as the last time we spoke. Space has done nothing to quash your ego. ”
“Why, Holly, what ego? I am simply proud of my work. You could do with accepting more praise for your own achievements.”
“You always find a way to turn my jabs at you into praise, but rarely do you turn that praise onto me. What’s gotten into you, Artemis? Missing me that much?”
“Let’s just call in the holiday spirit, shall we?”
“Mmm hmm. The ‘holiday spirit’. Sure.”
“I can see you smirking too, Holly. The video link goes two ways.”
“Shut up, Arty.”
“Merry Christmas to you too, Holly. I’m looking forward to spending it with you.”
“Was that serious or one of your rare sarcastic moments?”
“Which one would you prefer?”
“...Serious.”
“Well then, I genuinely am looking forward to spending time with you. Merry Christmas - properly, this time.”
“...Merry Christmas, Arty.”
“Why, Holly, are you blushing?”
“Don’t you start! I can see you’re worse than me!”
“Are you sure that isn’t just the hologram -”
“Don’t make me come up there, or worse, drag you back down here.”
“Duly noted.”