"Why don't I ever get to have any fun?"

Frankie Foster fumed as she stormed down the halls of Foster's Home for Imaginary Friends. She'd been looking forward to seeing Europe so much over the past few months. London, Paris, Rome, Berlin, Vienna... now it was all gone. After all the hassle, trial and tribulation of the day, they'd been tripped at the finish line by the usually responsible Mac losing of the tickets. Now his whole cadre of friends was angry at him. Frankie confessed she was a bit ticked off herself. No use crying over spilt dreams, though; she had a house to maintain. She was walking the through the foyer when she saw a small object on the couch.

"Mac, what are you still doing here..." she said with a note of exasperation to her voice. "The trip's off and we're all ticked, you should j..." The young redhead trailed off as she looked closer. The small boy was resting his head in his hands, tears welling in his usually bright eyes. Frankie dropped her anger and immediately sat next to him. "Mac, what's wrong?" she pleaded, resting a hand on his shoulder.

"Don't touch me!" he snapped, slapping her arm away.

"What's wrong with you?" Frankie said almost defensively.

"What's wrong with me? What's wrong with me! You're wrong with me!"

"What'd I do?" Frankie huffed, her hands on her hips.

"You're a jerk!" Mac blurted, looking away from her.

"'Jerk?' I'm a jerk? Why am I a jerk!"

"You all are! You kept goofing off and needing all these stupid things... YOU made us have food here, and then when Madame Foster takes the tickets, you all make me out to be the bad guy!"

"...you think Grandma stole the tickets?" Frankie asked.

"Well, the way she kept hugging me... besides, you say yourself how responsible I am..." Mac grumbled.

"I did think it was odd you lost them..." Frankie nodded. "And, how she and EuroTrish have inexplicably disappeared..."

"Yeah, so I noticed..." Mac muttered. Frankie bit her lip, struggling with how to defend herself.

"I'm sorry, Mac, it's just that I was so excited an--"

"And I wasn't?" Mac snapped, now more angry than sad. "Mom was getting annoyed because of how much I was talking about stuff like the Eiffel Tower and Stonehenge and stuff..."

"I... overreacted," Frankie said finally, blushing.

"Yeah, well, whatever," Mac huffed as he pushed himself off the couch. "You guys can all stay here and hate me, I don't care. I'm going home. I'll come back when I feel like it... maybe in like a week."

"But, Mac... you're so fun to have around the house!" Frankie called after the boy as trudged off.

"You sure showed that," he growled.

"But, Bloo could be adopted!"

"Bloo's a jerk too," Mac mumbled. Frankie's eyes dart in thought before she finally jumped off the couch.

"Mac, wait!" the young woman cried. Mac slowed.

"...yes..." he said without turning.

"You wanna... get some ice cream?"

"I have some boxed stuff at home too, Frankie. And besides..."

"Boxed stuff? Bleah," Frankie replied. "I'm talking about some real ice cream, downtown."

"No, because everyone's gonna complain that I'm gonna make them run out of jimmies or something. Besides, as I was saying... I'll blow up; I get all wild when I have sugar." Mac huffed as he walked to the door.

"Okay, then how about your favorite fast food? And everyone? Nuh uh. Just you and me, kiddo," Frankie said. Mac stopped.

"Really?" he asked, turning his head to see the woman nod. "Well... all right. I'll get on the bus..."

"Bus?" Frankie answered in offense. "No way. If Grandma stole from us," she continued slyly as she picked up a set of keys, "we'll steal from her."

"Wow, Madame Foster has such a cool car..."

"You're tellin' me," Frankie replied as she leaned back in the fine leather driver's seat. "She doesn't even have a permit."

"That's not right..." Mac gulped before furrowing his brow. "I dunno why, but, I feel like I've been here before..."

"Uh, that's odd," Frankie shrugged. "Telling Mac he ran through town on a sugar high naked probably wouldn't be wise if you want him to be happy," she told herself. A red light shone, and the car slowed. Frankie could tell that although he was more talkative, Mac still looked hurt. She struggled for conversation.

"So... how are your grades?" she asked.

"I'm doin' okay," the small boy shrugged.

"That's good," Frankie nodded with a smile as she drummed her fingers on the steering wheel. "Anything you're hurting on?"

"History," he shrugged.

"I minored in History," Frankie replied as the light turned green. "If you want, I can see if I can help you. Although, it was European history," she mumbled with an ironic blush.

"Guess that's why you were so excited," Mac sighed.

"Well, to be fair to myself, I doubt I would have gotten to go anywhere I wanted to anyway. I doubt Bloo would have the interest and Eduardo the... finesse... of going to the Louvre or Stonehenge or the Colosseum."

"Yeah, I guess," Mac shrugged with a small sigh.

"That and ol' Bunny Boy," Frankie added. She sat up and took on a posh British accent. "Miss Francis! We have spent far too long trying to understand the meaning of the Mona Lisa! We are now five seconds behind schedule, and we must be off to the Arc de' Triumph!" Mac giggled.

"That's pretty good, Frankie!" he smiled. "Uh oh. You didn't tell him you were leaving, did you?"

"I make the place tick. What's he gonna do, draw and quarter me?" the young woman smirked. She noted Mac's confusion. "It's a rather messy execution used in countries like England and France centuries ago."

"Oh."

"Yeah," Frankie added with a nod. She turned the posh car onto the strip. "Okay, Mac, we're here," she called. "Tell me which one. I draw the line at Cheesy Charlie's, though. Connections it has are bad."

"Don't worry, I don't like it either," Mac shuddered. "Now that's where I like to go!" he squeaked, jabbing at the window. Frankie glanced over.

"Pizza? Now we're talkin', kiddo!" Frankie grinned as she turned into the parking lot and brought the car to a stop. "Make sure the doors and windows are locked, and we'll get ourselves some pie."

"Welcome to Pizza Shack, what would you like?"

"Yeah, I'd like a large cheese pizza and a pitcher of water," Frankie ordered as she fished some money out of her wallet. "And it's for here."

"I can help pay too, Frankie..." Mac insisted, giving her a few quarters.

"Save your money, Mac," Frankie grinned, ruffling his hair. "Now, let's sit down... anywhere you want to in particular?"

"I like booths," the boy shrugged.

"Sure, Mac," she replied as she led him to the nearest booth. They sat down and looked at each other. The boy looked somewhat happier; Frankie conflicted.

"Mac, I'm really sorry for taking my anger out on you. You're right; we kept screwing around and wasting time... oh, and my grandmother's a dirty thief."

"It's okay, Frankie, I guess..." Mac sighed. "I just wanted to, you know, have a vacation with you guys to some really cool place I've never been to."

"It's the thought that counts," Frankie said softly, offering a smile.

"Thanks," Mac replied, smiling.

"You're welcome, Mac."

"Well, at least I know one of you guys don't hate my guts," Mac sighed.

"We don't hate your guts, Mac. It wasn't you, it was Madame Foster. And, even if it wasn't her, you're only human. We make mistakes. And boy, have I made some. The cookie binge and the Canadian friend come to mind... I certainly paid for both..."

"I'm sorry, Frankie."

"It's okay," she sighed. "I was just really hoping for, you know, a break. Some time away from the Home. Me time."

"I wanted you to get that too..." Mac mumbled sadly.

"That's very sweet of you Mac. Thanks," Frankie replied, giving his small hand a pat with hers. The boy blushed.

"You know, Frankie, this is gonna seem kinda funny, but, uh, I've kinda thought of you as my, I dunno... sorta-kinda big sister."

"Oh, Mac, that's adorable!" Frankie smiled before taking on her own shy look. "I kinda look at you as a little brother myself."

"I guess we're agreed, then..." Mac grinned.

"Well, you are the voice of reason in a room of lunatics. Never forget that, kiddo. Promise?" she replied, ruffling his hair.

"I promise, Frankie," Mac blushed.

"Good," she replied. As she pulled her arm back, a server walked up and delivered their pizza, steam still rising from the bubbling cheese.

"Large cheese and a pitcher of water," the man confirmed as he put the two items down. "Enjoy," he added before walking off. Mac poked tenderly at the pie's crust.

"I think it's still kinda hot," he observed.

"Yeah, but pizza's good hot... but not this hot," Frankie nodded. "We can let it cool for a little bit."

"Okay," Mac replied. Silence fell over the table for a moment.

"So, uh..." Mac asked shyly, "what in Europe did you wanna see the most?"

"Venice," Frankie replied. "It's an architectural masterpiece."

"I kinda wanted to see the Leaning Tower," Mac added.

"And now we're having pizza too hot for us. Three for three on Italy." Mac laughed, nodding at Frankie's wry observation.

"London and Paris looked fun too," Mac added.

"And Berlin," Frankie replied.

"And Rome!" Mac chirped.

"And... heck with it, we'll say the whole continent and call it even," Frankie shrugged with a smile. She waved a hand over the pizza. "I think it's cool enough now, Mac. But, be careful. Little bites, okay?"

"Yes, Mom," Mac said with a sarcastic grin as he yanked a wedge of pizza free, cheese trailing away from it in molten strings. Frankie, meanwhile, folded her piece and took a generous bite. Mac blinked as the woman didn't show a sign of distress.

"Isn't it hot?" he replied.

"A little, but my tongue's used to it," Frankie shrugged.

"Oh. And, why are you holding your pizza that way?"

"What, this?" Frankie replied, bobbing the slice towards him. "That's how you eat real pizza in the City."

"'The City?'" Mac asked.

"Yeah, you know, the City?" Frankie urged.

"No, I don't," Mac admitted with a shrug.

"Don't you know, Mac? I mean, it's-- Ooh, hang on a sec," the redhead replied as she pulled a cellphone singing a synthesized version of "I Wanna Be Sedated" came out of her hoodie pocket. "Oh, it's Kathy. Sorry, Mac, I have to take this." Mac nodded and returned to his pizza, half hearing Frankie's part of the conversation.

"Hey, Kathy, what's up?... Wish I could tell you, we got hung up by goofing up and Grandma tricking us... Yeah, I'm sharing pizza with Mac. Yes, that Mac," she blushed. "So, yeah, if you wanna do anything..." Frankie paused, and her eyes widened. "Really? A week? That would be great!" she cried. Her eyes fell to the small boy for a moment. "Say, Kathy, I don't think Mac's ever been, would you... You wouldn't? That's great! I'll clear it and get back to you, okay? Call you in a bit, bye." With that, she shut the phone and stuffed it back into her pocket.

"Been where?" Mac asked, suspicious.

"The City. Ya know, NEW YORK City?"

"Ohhhhh," Mac nodded in sudden understanding. "No, I've never been to New York, Frankie, why?"

"You wanna change that?"

"Yeah. It seems like a cool place... why?"

"Well, see, Kathy's original from New York," Frankie explained as she sat up. "She wanted to see how Europe was, and when I told her it fell through, she asked if I wanted to go down to the City with her for a week, since she has a place down there she was thinking of going to anyway. And, well... you wanna come with?"

"Really? Me?" Mac asked, shocked and excited.

"That is what I just asked her," Frankie smirked. "She'd love to have you. She's heard all these wonderful things about you..."

"Has she," Mac asked slyly.

"Well..." Frankie blushed.

"Anyway, going to New York? That would be awesome!"

"I thought as much. Well, all we need to do is ask your mom, and I think she wouldn't mind us going Downstate if she was okay with us going to Europe."

"I should think not," Mac grinned. "When we goin'?"

"We can go as early as, well, tomorrow if you want," Frankie shrugged.

"Yeah! Let's do it!" Mac chirped.

"Sure. Let me just call Kathy," Frankie replied as she dug out her phone and called her friend back. "Kathy? It's Frankie. Mac would love to. Yeah, he'd love to go starting tomorrow. Okay, sounds good. We'll just clear it with his mom, okay? Bye." Frankie finished as she hung up. "All we need is your mom's permission, Mac. If you want to call her..." she offered, handing him her phone.

"Okay," Mac replied as he dialed. "Hey, Mom, it's Mac. No, we got held up by goofing of and Madame Foster stole the tickets. Anyway, Frankie's friend called, and when she found out, she invited us to go with her to New York tomorrow for a week, so... I can? Thanks, Mom! Bye!" he grinned as he hung up.

"I guess it's settled," Frankie smiled. "All right, Mac, I'll take you home for the night, and Kathy and I'll pick you up tomorrow. But, just to let you know, we'll be leaving pre-tie early."

"That's okay, Frankie," he smiled.

"Well, good. Now, eat up, pizza's getting cold," she replied as she took another bite of her slice. Mac grinned as he resumed his. New York City! With Frankie for a week! Maybe missing the flight to Europe wasn't such a bad thing after all...