Rating: K. There's nothing offensive in this, save for a minor naughty word in the "Acer's Crummy Christmas" tale, which was written for my sons and read to them minus that word.
Setting: C.H.R.O.M.E.'s secret prison, late December 2011, after the events of Cars 2
Summary: Finn, Holley and Mater surprise the imprisoned Lemons with a Christmas celebration, and the group tells stories around the fireplace.
Author's Note: Cars 2 and all characters are the property of Disney-Pixar. You are free to use any ideas and concepts from this fanfiction in your own work (fanfiction, art, etc.) if you'd like.
"Don't it just warm yer engine to be deliverin' gifts like Santa Car himself?" Tow Mater asked as he and Holley Shiftwell made their way down the corridors of C.H.R.O.M.E.'s secret prison. Wearing mirror-muffs in a vibrant shade of magenta that complemented her sporty frame, Agent Shiftwell shivered involuntarily and pulled closer to the tow truck. Though Mater spoke with exuberance as though they were bringing presents to grateful children at an orphanage, they were in fact about to distribute gifts to the most callous criminals, ones who had done their very best to ensure their demise barely half a year ago. Sometimes Holley wished she could share Mater's innocent outlook on life, but she had seen too much as a secret agent to still believe everyone had a good side.
Mater grinned down at her from under the brim of his stocking cap, a merry but juvenile piece of headwear that was topped by a red pom-pom and a set of antlers. When Holley had commented on it earlier, her boyfriend had insisted that none other than Mrs. Santa Car herself had knitted it for him a few years back, in gratitude for saving Christmas, of course. Unsure how to respond to that but well aware of his fondness for tall tales, Holley had simply told him it looked stunning and suited him, and Mater, grateful she had not immediately discounted his fantastic story, had just as simply thanked her. It was a true relief that he could be himself now that his friends understood he had never been the sophisticated spy they had initially mistaken him for.
Trying to retain her holiday spirits as they passed the first sterile holding cell with its glowing, electronic bars keeping a quartet of Pacers contained safely inside, Holley expressed hope that the prisoners would appreciate Mater's efforts. There was no sign of the approaching holiday from inside the jail, with its plain steel walls and absolutely no windows to the outside world, for the cells had been built deep within the agency's headquarters.
"Aw, they'd sure better!" exclaimed the tow truck indignantly. "Once Finn put me in charge of plannin' the annual C.H.R.O.M.E. Christmas party, I didn't spare no expense, and I personally picked each gift fer the guys." He rifled through the parcels in his truck bed, using his tow hook to carefully push the wrapped bundles aside. "I got Zundapp another one'a somethin' of his that Finn done busted, fer starters!"
"Do tell me you're not going to exchange gifts in the hallway?" inquired someone, and the couple turned to find their closest friend.
"Finn!" Mater cried, as though he had spotted Santa Car himself. "Aw, c'mon, buddy, you know we couldn't start the party without you."
McMissile chuckled. "Unless Santa Car gave you top-level access to release the prisoners, I would say you didn't have a choice in that matter."
"I don't mean to be all sour grapes at Christmas time, but this is a weird place to have a party," Acer admitted, peering around the cavernous room where they had been led. He was still dubious about the entire idea. After months of isolation, he had at last come to the conclusion that C.H.R.O.M.E. would have already harshly interrogated him and the others if that had been in their plans, but the sudden announcement of a celebration left him vaguely anxious. Partying with his captors was hardly his idea of fun, not that the oil rig had been known for its holiday festivities either.
"It's a simulation room," his mentor, Professor Zundapp, responded impatiently. "Just another example of technology that was far out of our reach but taken for granted by the agents." He sniffed. "They'll use it to create the illusion of pleasant surroundings, unless my instincts are wrong. Such a waste of resources."
Ignoring the microcar's complaint, Mater ordered an unseen computer to create a classic Christmas scene, and the room around them was brightly illuminated in a flash of light that was soon replaced by the interior of a cozy log-cabin home, complete with Christmas lights strung along the walls and a dazzling tree in the corner. The Lemons explored their new surroundings with distrust, each model type staying with the others of his kind just as they had when they'd been free.
"Strange," breathed Victor Hugo, whose ever-present and faithful aide, Alexander, had guided him to the tree to investigate for himself. "I don't know how you do it, but it even smells like real pine." He extended a tire toward the needles, feeling them jab against his treads. "There's even texture."
Holley chuckled. "We're not about to give away the secrets of our technology, but there will be gifts, courtesy of Mater, and if everyone would like to get comfortable we can park near the fire and share a story or two." Her request was met with astounded silence, for the large contingent of bodyguards, Lemonheads and one very unhappy-looking deep blue tow truck knew very little about mingling.
Just as she was about to dismiss the entire plan as a well-intentioned but bad idea, she heard a pop as Finn opened a bottle of rather high-quality champagne taken from a cart a forklift had wheeled into the room. He casually poured a glass, all eyes focused on the first drink they'd seen in months that wasn't plain water from the municipal supply or decaf octane.
"Cheers, anyone?" he asked, and the festive mood officially began.
