Hi everyone! Just so you know, in this universe (GGF (Green Gables Fables)), Gil wants to become a cardiac surgeon and this story was inspired by Gilbert's Season 1 Q&A December vlog. Anyway, Merry Christmas and Happy Hollidays! I hope you guys enjoy this!

Creak.

Gilbert and his cousin Tommy looked at each other in the darkness, their breaths hovering in the still air that was the middle of the night. Well, 4:02 am, Gil read proudly on the clock a few minutes ago; he had just learned how to in school. But since it was so early in the morning wouldn't that creak wake everybody up? They didn't want to get caught now when there were presents and stockings just waiting to be opened. After a few moments of silence, the coast seemed clear and they and Tommy's older sister, Emily Fletcher, crept down the carpeted stairs. Tommy and Emily – with their parents – had come up from Regina to Avonlea yesterday afternoon.

"Ow!" Gilbert cried at the weight of one of Tommy's feet on one of his own. "He hurt me!," he whined to Emily.

"I said sorry," Tommy replied crossly.

"If you two don't keep quiet, I'll leave you both here and go through the presents myself!" Emily whisper-yelled at them. "Do you want Mum and Dad to hear you?"

"No," the boys mumbled in unison.

"Good…. Let's go."

They crept down the stairs and then in their warm, soft, stockinged feet, they quietly moved along the wooden floor careful not to make a sound. They turned a corner and – the effect made them gasp in delight.

At the far end of the room, the Christmas tree was next to the fireplace decked out in white lights strung all around it, various ornaments hung off of many different branches of the tree, and a silver star glowed from its perch on top. But most important of all, were the presents. There were loads of presents piled so high under the tree that the bows of the upper ones were touching the very bottom branches and so numerous – it seemed like – that it was almost impossible to choose which one to open first.

"Well, I expected to find you kids here," a voice said amusedly. The figure stood from a chair across from the fireplace and walked over to them wearing a mismatched pajama set that was a Maples Leafs shirt and Riders' pants.

"Daddy!" Gilbert yelled with excitement. "What are you doing here?"

"I don't think you're going to be able to open up presents …" he said with a grin before pulling out a plastic toy water gun.

Emily squealed and they dove forward and landed behind the chair that Gilbert's father had just occupied. Except they were completely exposed and Daddy kept squirting them as they tried to dodge it. They ran upstairs, their feet pounding on the carpeted stairs as Gilbert's father chased them. When they finally reached their bedroom door, they ran inside and leaned against the closed door, panting for breath. Eventually, they finally managed to get back to sleep for a couple of hours before they woke up, realized it was a respectable 6:15 am, screamed that it was Christmas morning, before running into their parents' rooms and jumping on the bed to wake them up.

"Fred, can you hand me that squirt gun? Thanks."

Fred and Diana Wright and their kids were staying with the Blythes (Gilbert and Anne and their kids) in their Glenwood neighborhood home in Saskatoon for the Christmas holiday having driven up from Regina earlier that afternoon.

"Gil," Anne asked, "what are you doing?"

Gil set the now-filled squirt gun on the counter. He turned around, leaning against the edge of the counter, facing his wife and Diana who were sitting at the kitchen table. He cocked his head towards the ceiling for a moment, eyebrows furrowed, as if he was listening for something before answering Anne. "Did you see the little monsters at dinner? They're plotting."

"Gil, they're kids!" Anne answered with a laugh. "Of course they're plotting!"

"They're probably gonna try to open all of their presents really early in the morning before we wake up."

"Like you did –" Anne replied.

"Tried, I tried –" Gil said. "Anyway," he continued excitedly with a shrug and a momentary protrusion of his bottom lip, "I thought I should continue the tradition now that Dad's gone. Jem's the same age I was then and Walt's four …" They continued chatting, at times sipping on their now-lukewarm tea.

"I can't believe you managed to get the next two days off, Gil," Diana said.

"I know. Me either," Gil agreed amazed. "I reckon I'll get horrible luck next year and be on call..."

Anne yawned, the excitement of the day catching up to her just then … and infecting everyone else. "Sweetheart, maybe it's time for you to head to bed," Gilbert suggested gently.

"What about you, Gil? You've been doing fifteen-hour shifts lately! And you told me earlier that you had two surgeries plus rounds today. You look exhausted! You need sleep as much as I do if not more!"

"I'll get at least, oh," he glanced at his watch, "six hours of sleep tonight, if the kids decide to come down at 4 am." He smirked. "Anne, you know I can -"

"- Go forty-eight hours without sleeping, if you need to. Yes, I know. But it's Christmas, Gil, you're tired, and you need sleep."

"Well, unless you want the kids to attack all the gifts at four or five in the morning and wake up to a mound of wrapping paper all over the floor," he grinned, "I'm going to need to be on guard duty." He patted the filled up squirt gun. "Someone has to make sure that Santa has enough time to leave all the presents under the tree."

Gilbert's eyes flew open as he felt two small hands push on his abdomen with a pair of small legs balancing on his thighs … and a mess of red hair and hazel eyes inches from his face.

"CHRISTMAS!" Jem yelled bouncing up and down.

"SANTA CAME!" Walter yelled as his older brother helped him clamber onto the couch and their father.

He winced for a moment rubbing his ears. The smell of coffee hung in the air wafting in from the kitchen. What time was it? He told his eldest sons to climb off him because they were starting to be too heavy and he could barely breathe. He suggested that they could go play Legos with the Wright kids while they waited to open up Christmas presents. They looked reluctant but did what they were told. Glancing at the fireplace, the floor looked ransacked. All the stockings, except for four of them still hanging from the mantle, had been pillaged, its contents from Santa strewn across the floor.

He felt someone beside him and turned his head. He saw a vision of beauty, Anne, hair tied up in a messy bun, wearing her robe, holding two mugs of steaming coffee.

"Morning, dearest," she said as she leaned over the couch to kiss him. "Merry Christmas."

"Merry Christmas. What time is it?" he asked as he sat up.

"It's about seven. You slept for nine hours," Anne told him with a smirk as she gave him a coffee cup.

"Really? Damn," he muttered, sinking his head back into the pillow a bit, scrubbing a hand over his face.

"What? … Oh. Oh Gil, I'm sorry."

"I wanted to do it, y'know? Share the same experience with Jem and Walt … shoot them with a water gun at four in the morning like Dad did with us …"

"We have more Christmases, Gil."

"What?"

"We still have a lot more Christmases. Walt will be five next year and Jem will be six. They'll still be young enough to want to open up presents really early in the morning." She gave him a smile. "And the younger ones are still at least a few years off from joining their older brothers in their Christmas escapades yet."

Gilbert took a sip of the coffee his face thoughtful. "That's true. I could always do it next year," he said a half smile on his face. He took another sip of the coffee his face and smile brightening.

Anne lowered her coffee mug so it rested on the edge of the couch. "Well … since there's no one about right now …"

"I see," he said lowly as they closed the distance between them before being interrupted by a hand shaking Anne's robe.

"Mummy, can we open presents NOW?!" Jem asked in exasperation.