Pinocchio's First Christmas, a disney fanfic

PINOCCHIO'S FIRST CHRISTMAS

I know Christmas isn't for another week, but I didn't want to wait until then to post this. I know I've been incredibly slow with my story "On the Wings of an Angel", but this ought to give you some satisfaction. I always wanted to write a story with Terence and Pinocchio at Christmastime, and here it is! Merry Christmas, everybody! (Next week, that is!)

Pinocchio, Jiminy Cricket, and Figaro © Disney

Terence and Duke © unicorn-skydancer08

Story © unicorn-skydancer08

Early one cold winter morning, Pinocchio lay sound asleep in his warm bed, wrapped in a snug cocoon of blankets, when presently he felt someone shake him gently and heard a soft whisper in his ear. "Pinocchio," the voice said. "Pinocchio…it's time to wake up." With a moan, Pinocchio opened his eyes to find Terence, his best friend and foster father, leaning over him.

"Terence?" the child said, his tone somewhat befuddled.

"Hello, sleepyhead," Terence replied, smiling down at him. "Up and at 'em!"

Slowly, Pinocchio struggled to a sitting position, rubbing at his bleary eyes. Glancing out his window, he saw that the sun hadn't even risen yet.

"Why do I have to get up now, Terence?" the boy protested.

"Well, Pinocchio, it's Christmas morning, isn't it? You want to open your presents, don't you?"

"Presents?" That got Pinocchio's attention right away, and snapped him wide-awake.

He needed no further persuasion. At once he was out of bed, and was out of the room in a flash. Terence had to laugh as he watched his son take off.

"Ah, if only he were like this every morning," the young white-haired man chuckled to himself.

He followed Pinocchio to the next room, where a handsome tree stood proudly in a corner. Sure enough, there were brightly wrapped packages of varying sizes scattered all around that tree. Figaro and Duke, the little black cat and the big mahogany-and-cream collie dog, were already there. Figaro was batting playfully at a fallen bauble from the tree, while Duke was sniffing one of the packages curiously. For a moment Pinocchio stood still, gazing in awe at the lovely scene. When Terence joined him, he said, "Well, come on. What are you waiting for?"

Pinocchio peered up at his foster father for another moment; the smile on the child's face would have been sufficient to light up the entire house.

Without further hesitation, he darted in the direction of the tree, just as fast as his little legs could carry him. Unsure of which present to open first, he simply reached for the nearest package, and eagerly pulled the ribbon loose and tore the paper apart. The gift turned out to be a new cap, similar to the one he already owned—except it was blue, with a white feather.

"Oh, boy!" Pinocchio cried, and he immediately crammed it onto his head. It was a perfect fit.

As Terence came over and joined him on the floor, he asked, "How do you like it, Pinoke?"

"I love it!" said Pinocchio delightedly. "How do I look?"

Terence nodded in approval. "Very stylish. Like a real gentleman."

Leaving the cap on, Pinocchio reached for another parcel. When he peeled the paper away, he discovered a big, beautiful book, bound in rich leather, and full of exquisite illustrations when he thumbed through the pages. "Look, Terence, a storybook!" the boy said, even though Terence could already see perfectly well. "Will you read it to me?"

Terence laughed and replied heartily, "Of course, I'd be more than happy to." Gently taking the book from Pinocchio and laying it aside, he added, "But first, let's see what else you've got."

The remaining parcels consisted of a number of wonderful, whimsical things: smart new clothes, a warm quilt, boxes upon boxes of candy and sweets, and toys, of course.

While Pinocchio admired each gift one by one, and sampled some of the treats (all of which were extremely tasty), Figaro played with the ribbons and paper remnants that were left lying around, while Duke was much more interested in the food. With Terence's permission, Pinocchio let the dog have a morsel here and there. At one point, Figaro meowed for a little treat of his own, so he was granted a few bites, too. Once Duke intercepted Figaro's treat before he could eat it, so Terence gave the kitten two treats to make up for it.

Presently, Jiminy Cricket revealed his presence, dressed as a miniature Father Christmas. "Merry Christmas, everybody!" the cricket proclaimed boldly.

"Hello, Jiminy!" Pinocchio greeted him brightly, when he saw him.

"Good morning, Jiminy," said Terence genially. "A very merry Christmas to you, too." Noticing Jiminy's costume, the young man remarked, "You certainly look like you're into the holiday spirit."

As Jiminy approached them, hauling a tiny sack with him, he asked, "Has everyone been good this year?"

"I have!" Pinocchio insisted. Then, as if on second thought, the boy added, "At least, I've tried to be."

Terence just laughed. He knew Pinocchio to be a very good boy—mischievous at times, but a sweet, loving boy all the same. Had he and Terence shared the same blood, Terence couldn't have loved him more, and he wouldn't trade him for anything in the world. "What's in the sack, Little Father Christmas?" the white-haired youth asked, at length.

"Ta-da!" Jiminy opened his bag to reveal a small load of fresh chestnuts, perfect for roasting.

"Oh, boy!" Pinocchio, who was nuts about nuts, was delighted. "Those look good!"

"Indeed," Terence agreed. "They'll taste even better when we cook them later on today. Thank you very much, Little Father Christmas. This is most generous of you."

"Think nothing of it at all!" Jiminy replied jovially. "After all, it is Christmas—'tis the season to be giving!"

"And speaking of giving," said Terence as he reached into the pocket of his robe, "we have a little something to give you."

"For me?" Jiminy looked and sounded genuinely touched. "Aw, you shouldn't have!"

"We know that," Terence smiled at the cricket, "but we wanted to. You are part of the family, too, you know. Here you are."

He held out to Jiminy a tiny package, about the size of a ring box. Jiminy took a minute to admire the beautiful wrapping and the little bow that had been painstakingly tied before peering up at Terence and Pinocchio and saying, "Gee…thanks!" With exceptional care, the cricket loosened the bow and removed the paper. Inside the box, he found not one, but several gifts: a new jacket, a new umbrella, a tiny scarf for the winter cold, several lumps of homemade fudge rolled up in wax paper, and a folded piece of paper.

Terence obligingly unfolded the paper, which turned out to be a drawing, obviously done by Pinocchio's hand. Pinocchio had made a portrait of Jiminy and himself, and it was wonderful; but the best part was the writing at the top: BEST FRENDS FOUREVUR. This proved Pinocchio was the one behind this, since the boy had yet to learn to spell properly.

But, misspelled words and all, it was beautiful. Jiminy actually got a little choked up, and he had to dig out his handkerchief. "You all right, Jiminy?" Terence asked gently.

"Sure. I—I just got a little something in my eye."

When Jiminy managed to compose himself, Pinocchio looked to see if there were any more presents to open. As it was, there was only one left.

Terence retrieved it for the boy and said, with a knowing wink, "This one's on me."

Inside the package, Pinocchio discovered a small teddy bear, the one he had been admiring at the toyshop in the neighboring village the last few weeks. It was a very fine bear, with soft brown fur and shiny black buttons for the eyes and nose, and with five individual toes on each paw. Happily, Pinocchio hugged the bear, nestling his cheek against the downy fur.

"Do you like it, Pinocchio?" asked Terence.

"Oh, I love it! Thank you, Terence! Thank you so much!" Pinocchio set the bear aside so that he could hug his foster father, and Terence readily returned the child's impassioned embrace.

"You're welcome, son. You're quite welcome."

While they embraced, Figaro and Duke were intrigued by the bear.

Figaro approached the bear very cautiously, as if approaching a hot fire. Duke gave the bear a gentle whack with his forepaw, knocking it sideways and startling Figaro into running away.

When Terence and Pinocchio let each other go, Pinocchio seemed to remember something. "Wait here, Terence," he said, "I'll be right back!"

Before Terence could say anything, Pinocchio had leapt to his feet and fled the room. When the boy returned a minute later, he had something behind his back.

"What'cha got there, Pinoke?" asked Jiminy.

"Something for Terence, for Christmas," Pinocchio replied as he stepped forward, keeping his hands behind his back. "I made it myself."

"Did you really?" Terence smiled fondly at the boy.

"I'm afraid it's not wrapped, though," said Pinocchio, somewhat apologetically.

"That's all right," Terence reassured him. "I'm sure it's wonderful all the same. What is it, Pinocchio?"

"Here." Pinocchio revealed his present, which turned out to be another drawing, considerably bigger than the one he'd made for Jiminy.

Terence could tell right away that Pinocchio had put a lot of time, heart, and soul into it—as well as every last art utensil in his collection. But it was what Pinocchio had drawn that made Terence catch his breath. There were two men in the picture, with a little boy between them. The boy was holding the hand of each man, and all three faces wore big, bright smiles. Terence recognized his own image, and saw that the other man had white hair as well, along with a thick white mustache, square spectacles, a peach-like nose, and sky-blue eyes.

Terence realized this must be Geppetto, Pinocchio's true father.

Though he'd never personally met Geppetto, the young man had heard a great deal about him from Pinocchio and Jiminy. Geppetto had passed away not so long ago, due to a dreadful bout of pneumonia. As Pinocchio had no other living relatives, he was left homeless, penniless, and (with the exception of Jiminy) friendless.

Only heaven knew what would have become of Pinocchio, had Terence not found him and taken him in.

Just like with Jiminy's picture, there was an inscription at the top of Terence's picture, in Pinocchio's untidy, misspelled scrawl: MY TOO FATHURS.

When Terence read that up close, his heart swelled, and his eyes filled to overflowing. He had to hold the paper away from him so that the tears wouldn't splash onto it and ruin it.

"What's wrong, Terence?" Pinocchio asked worriedly.

Terence made a half-laugh as he dabbed at his moist eyes with his fingertips. "Nothing, Pinocchio. Nothing is wrong."

"Why are you crying?"

"I think you know the reason why." Terence smiled tearfully at the child, and opened his arms to him.

Understanding the gesture, Pinocchio made a prompt beeline into them. He curled into a little ball on Terence's lap, and nestled his head in the warm crook of Terence's neck. For a long time, Terence held Pinocchio close, gently rocking the little boy back and forth and fondling him tenderly while his tears streamed down his face without restraint.

At length, Pinocchio whispered, "I love you, Terence."

"I love you, too, Pinocchio…my son, my precious child. I love you with all my heart." How glorious it was to be able to say those blessed words aloud, Terence thought.

And how glorious they sounded to Pinocchio's ears as well.

Terence kissed the top of the child's head before adding on, "You're the greatest gift I could ever ask for."

Pinocchio said nothing to this, but he burrowed deeper into Terence's chest. Presently, the rest of the family joined them. Jiminy made a spring onto Terence's shoulder, while Figaro climbed into Pinocchio's lap and Duke rested his head against Terence's knee. With one hand, Terence reached over and gave Duke a mild pat, while Pinocchio stroked Figaro's fur.

There they remained, in that cozy position, for no one knew how long, oblivious to the rest of the world.

"Merry Christmas, son," Terence whispered into Pinocchio's ear.

"Merry Christmas," Pinocchio whispered back.