Author's Warning: Like everything else, this takes place in my series, set up by the events in my first story "More Than My Friend" where the big event is that Frankie adopts Mac. If you haven't read that story yet, I strongly suggest you do so now, or else you might get terribly confused.
"Yikes…" Frances "Frankie" Foster groaned softly under her breath for the umpteenth time since she had awoken that morning to find herself landed with a nasty little souvenir from a night out with friends. As her splitting headache continued to throb, the slightly hung-over caretaker struggled to tend to her daily duties as usual, despite the fact that the light nearly stung her half-opened eyes, and she was currently only able to move about in an ungraceful shuffle, groaning like a redheaded zombie freshly raised from the grave.
As she grabbed a stack of cereal bowls from an open cupboard, Frankie prayed feverishly with all her heart and soul that a certain imaginary rabbit wouldn't figure out that she had unintentionally kicked back one drink too many the night before, or else she would never hear the end of it. An excruciatingly long and severe scolding was certainly the last thing she needed at the moment, and Lord only knew how much she didn't need to be reminded that her intemperance had been a poor move on her part; her pounding headache was taking care of that.
Besides, she'd already been mentally berating herself ever since she woke up. Why on earth she thought straying from her routine of two drinks was a good idea, she'd probably never know. But as far as she concerned, she would be damned if she ever allowed herself to get so "adventurous" ever again. While she went about her morning duties, she continued to mercilessly curse herself.
Unfortunately, that wasn't the least of it, for on top of everything else, she was also being served with a nice heaping serving of guilt too, seeing how perfectly aware she was of how flat-out awful it was that she was still making such poor choices even though she was raising-
"Good morning, Frankie!" a familiar voice chirped warmly, startling the young woman. Moving quickly, Frankie set down the bowls down upon the counter, struggled to crack her emerald eyes wide open, and planted on what she hoped was a convincing smile as she clumsily whirled around to meet the gaze of a bright-eyed child.
"G'morning, pal." She returned the greeting, all the while hoping desperately she didn't look too frightful.
To her relief, it appeared that as far as Mac could tell, she only appeared dreadfully tired as he frowned worriedly and inquired, "What time did you get back home last night?"
"Uh…" Frankie grunted as she threw together a hasty reply, "Pretty late…yeah, real late, see, because…I wasn't keeping an eye on the time, and by the time I actually checked, I…well, I got back as soon as I could, but…it was already late, so…I guess I'm -"
"So you need help getting everything set up for breakfast or anything?" the irrepressibly helpful little one immediately offered. Feeling like she had just managed to dodge a bullet, the caretaker ceased wearing her phony smile and actually broke out into a weak but genuine grin of relief as she bent over to affectionately tousle Mac's hair.
"Do I ever have everything under control by myself?" she joked. "You bet I could use a hand. Could you start getting out the silverware and setting it up outside in the…in the…uh…Mac?"
Frankie rapidly trailed off as she was caught fast in the clutches of utter befuddlement as Mac's gaze suddenly left hers and swiftly traveled down her body, until it quickly came to an abrupt halt at her stomach as something seemed to seize fast hold of his attention. After gawking wordlessly at her bare midriff for a few moments, with his face scrunched up in profound bewilderment, the genuinely bemused child pointed and asked innocently, "... Frankie? How long have you had that?"
"Huh?" she murmured, looking just as hopelessly confused as he was. "How long have I had what? What do you mean? I don't have anything down-"
The instant she glanced down and spotted the distinct glitter of metal on her belly, Frankie automatically went as mute as a stone in unspeakable shock. As she gazed at the silver piercing adorning her belly button – a piercing that as far as she remembered, had never existed until now – her emerald eyes slowly bulged to the width of saucers, her heart skipped a beat, and in an instant she had become so ashen she could have easily been mistaken for a corpse.
For a few moments, the indescribably mortified young woman just gawked speechlessly at her memento from last night's revelry, as it soon became far too clear she drank far too much for her own good. Mac likewise stared curiously along with her until he mused out loud, "Huh…that's really weird, I don't know why I've never noticed that before...do you only wear that once in a while, or-"
In a flash Frankie's complexion went from deathly white to bright scarlet as she was beset with humiliation the likes of which mere words failed to depict as she instinctively clapped her hands over the belly-button ring, whirled around to hide it from sight and started yelping hoarsely, "Don't look! Don't look! Don't look! Don't look! Pal, please! Don't look!"
Startled, Mac stepped back a pace or two and cried worriedly, "What? What is it? What's wrong? Frankie, why are you so upset about….your…….oh, no…"
It didn't take long at all for him to fit the pieces together, and as soon as he realized they were dealing with an unforeseen result of last night's carousing, his expression contorted with deep dismay as he stammered, "Frankie…you didn't-"
I'm sorry! I'm sorry! I'm sorry! I'm sorry, Mac, I'm sorry!" she cried, her tone saturated with deep regret. "I'm sorry! I'm sorry!"
"Sorry?" Mac repeated bemusedly. "Why are you apologizing to me? I'm not the one who pierced your belly button!"
"Yeah, but I'm the one who's the rotten excuse for your role model right now!" the mortified woman wailed mournfully as she nearly lit up the kitchen with her blazing blush. "Oh God, I'm so sorry! I'm sorry!"
Once it quickly became obvious the panicking redhead was about to go into hysterics, the stunned child, unsure of what else to do, instinctively began to try and calm her down.
"It's… it's okay, Frankie, it's okay!" Mac sputtered as he plodded over, wrenched a hand from her stomach and started patting it gently. "I don't care, I-"
"You should care!" she snapped. "This is not the kind of thing I should get away with! It's not-"
"Frankie, it's all right, it was just a mistake!" the boy countered. "And why's it such a big deal? You already have a couple ear piercings, and I don't care about those-"
"Yeah, but I was sober when I got all of them!" she wailed. "Oh God, oh God, oh God...why, Mac? Why am I such a-"
"Please! Take a deep breath, or something! Just try and calm down!" Mac begged as he gazed pleadingly into her eyes. "Look, it'll be okay-"
Little did he realize that his reassurance came with nightmarishly poor timing, for no sooner had the words rolled off his tongue when a familiar voice called out from not-too-far-away, "Miss Frances? Miss Frances!"
As the blood ran ice cold in her veins, the horrified caretaker yelped loudly and instinctively she tried to zip up her jacket to try and hide her piercing from sight, only to realize to her colossal terror that her trademark sweater was nowhere to be seen. As she quickly remembered, she had left it in her room earlier after deciding the weather was too nice for her to need it. While she mentally cursed her incredibly foul luck, all the while the distinct sounds of hopping grew progressively louder as a certain imaginary rabbit drew closer to the kitchen, as her heart rate simultaneously went faster and faster until it felt like it was going to explode inside of her.
With time running out, the desperate young woman glanced about wildly for anything to hide her mistake with, Mac tried to suggest, "Maybe you can take it-WAUGH!"
As soon as she glanced back down at him, without a word Frankie plucked Mac off the floor and clasped him close, using his little body as the makeshift cover she was seeking just as the kitchen doors opened and a familiar furry face peered in.
"Miss Frances?" Mr. Herriman called out as he peered around. Once he spotted her, immediately he entered the room and made a beeline towards the resident caretaker. "There you are! Miss Frances, I've been looking all over for…uh…"
Mr. Herriman ground to a halt and paused a few moments to take note of the peculiar scene he had come across. Never one to dillydally, he took only a couple seconds before he inquired bemusedly, "Um…Miss Frances? What are you and Master Mac d-"
"Hugging?" she hastily answered, fidgeting so badly it looked as if someone had tossed a handful of thorns down her shirt. "Hugging because…because……….because uh...that's...that's what family does?"
"…Th-there's nothing wrong with that, is there?" Mac threw in for good measure with what he hoped was a convincing grin as he played along, for he knew quite well the terrible fate that would befall his guardian if the rabbit found out what had happened.
As her employer shot her an odd look, the redhead grimaced uncontrollably in discomfort as her stomach started to twist up into a myriad of knots. To her relief though, a moment later he accepted her explanation with a curt nod.
"There's no denying that, I suppose." He granted. "However, as heartwarming as it is to see that you sincerely care for your charge, Miss Frances, for the moment you must hold off on any displays of familial affection until later. As aware as I am that you need to get breakfast on the table, I couldn't help but notice earlier as I descended downstairs that the foyer seems to be in desperate need of a good sweeping. It's not too serious of a matter, but as you know, prospective families do tend to show up earlier on Sundays than other days. So just in case someone shows up in the midst of breakfast, I was wondering if you could take a few minutes right now and…"
As he explained the situation that required her immediate attention, he failed completely to notice how her eyes nearly bugged out of their sockets, as if she had just been requested to jump feet-first into a wood chipper.
"Uh……" Frankie murmured, feeling like a cornered animal. After wracking her brain furiously for some way out of this without exposing her piercing, she finally sputtered lamely after failing to come up with anything in her panic, "N-no thank you?"
After stopping in mid-sentence, the deeply bewildered imaginary rabbit could do little more than stare blankly at her in confusion for a several moments. He had been expecting her to either complain or begrudgingly go about it with a reluctant moan; this was certainly the first time he had ever received that particular reply.
"…No thank you?" he repeated curiously.
"No thank you!" she blurted out again and anxiously hugged Mac a little closer. After floundering in bewilderment for a moment, the befuddled figment finally decided that a reprimand wasn't in order, for as confusing as her answer was, at least she was being unusually polite about it.
"Um…Miss Frances, it really won't take up too much of your time-" he tried to clarify.
"No, I'm good!" she blurted out as she broke out into a nervous sweat. "Really!"
Still quite baffled as ever by her behavior, Mr. Herriman persisted, "Maybe you are, but what about Foster's? I think it'd hardly bode well if someone looking to adopt a friend showed up and the first thing they saw was a floor coated in a thick layer of dust-"
"No thanks, I'm just fine!" Frankie stammered as her forehead began to glisten with tiny droplets that trickled down her brow. At this point, Mr. Herriman narrowed his eyes into a stern glare; now he was starting to get annoyed.
"Miss Frances, I don't know what kind of game this is you're playing, but I for one am in no mood to play! Come now, you're being ridiculous! Put Master Mac down, grab a broom, and head out to the foyer immediately!" he barked.
"No! Ackpth, wait, I mean...I...no, I mean...um...there's no law that says I can't hug him!" Frankie argued, well aware of how foolish she sounded as she grew exceedingly desperate.
"Did I order you to go an abandon the child out on the sidewalk?" Mr. Herriman snapped. "No, of course not! All I'm asking you is to do just a touch of sweeping! All you need to do is release you grasp on the…mmph…I said, all you have to do is…"
In an attempt to bring the odd situation to a quick end, he grabbed hold of Mac and tugged firmly, but to no avail. Almost immediately redhead and child tightened their hold on each other to the point where it least to the imaginary rabbit it felt as if they had fused together.
"Miss Frances, please, just-" Mr. Herriman begged as he tried another fruitless pull. As Mac yelped and squeezed as hard as he could lest he was yanked off, Frankie swiftly thwarted the rabbit's efforts as she yanked back, wrenching the child from her boss's grip.
"Nuh-uh!" she refused adamantly. "I told you, I'm not committing any crime by-"
"For heaven's sake, child! Will you please just stop this nonsense? I swear, either you march yourself into the foyer this instant, or-"
"Okay!" the young woman complied as she sidestepped around the chagrined rabbit and scooted off, still clutching Mac tightly as if her very life depended on it.
As his ire soared, Mr. Herriman scolded as she took off. "Young lady, I distinctly ordered you to put Master Mac down!"
"No, it's all right!" she cried as she made a hasty exit into the dining room. "I…I-I can handle a broom with just one hand, it's no problem, Mr. H! Don't worry-"
"You're really working my last nerve, you know that? When I give you an order, I expect you to do precisely as you're told!" the aggravated figment growled as he took off after her. "Miss Frances, either let go of the child right now, or I-"
"I-I'm fine, really!" Frankie sputtered as her heart pounded like a kettledrum. "I'm just…just…I'm just taking Mac to help me, that's all! Isn't that right, pal?"
However, by this point her panic had reached such torturous heights, the frantic woman was clinging to the little boy so firmly he felt like he had been placed inside a giant vice grip, and Mac could little more than wheeze, "T-too tight…too…tight…"
"See, he has no problem!" the caretaker lied as she was pursued through the expansive dining room and out into the foyer. Frustrated beyond compare, Mr. Herriman put on an extra burst of speed and managed to nab her securely by the arm.
"Miss Frances, stop!" he ordered angrily as he anchored the incredibly frantic redhead in place. "I am not going to repeat myself anymore, you hear me? For the final time, either let go of Master Mac and get to work, or-"
"No, please!" Frankie cried as she tried to squirm away. "I just-"
"For heaven's sake, child, it's only some sweeping that has to get done!" the immensely exasperated imaginary friend cried. "I don't know what you're up to, but this ends now, you hear me? Miss Frances, I-"
As Mr. Herriman reached for Mac to try and pluck him out of her hold, Frankie's panic reached its pinnacle. Absolutely terrified that last night's mistake was about to be exposed, leading to ramifications she didn't even want to try and imagine, she suddenly started wailing stubbornly, "No means no, Mr. Herriman!"
"Miss Frances-" he tried to protest, but before he could say another word the frenetic young woman practically started yelling at the top of her lungs.
"No thank you, I'm fine! No thank you, Mr. Herriman! I SAID NO THANK YOU!"
Not only had she actually started shrieking at the top of her lungs by this point, but she came quite close to rupturing the rabbit's eardrums. Not expecting her to get so stubbornly adverse, the terribly startled creature finally let go and clumsily backed off a few paces to safety. As Frankie fixed a fierce glower on him, he didn't take too long to understand that it would be useless to true and continue the struggle any longer, and even somewhat dangerous as well.
Shaking slightly as the obstinate woman continued to glare daggers, the flummoxed figment finally conceded, "Um…continue as you like, then…"
With that he promptly wheeled around and hopped off and vanished into his office in record time, leaving the young woman, the child, and their nasty little secret alone.
Terribly shaken by the close call, Frankie took a couple moments to try and collect herself, and hastily started gulping down deep breaths of air.
Mac, who had barely said a word throughout the entire ordeal, glanced up into her eyes and managed to whimper as she loosened her hold, "Why didn't you just take the ring off?"
At first, the dumbfounded young woman just stood there wordlessly, terribly unsure of whether to feel relieved she had a solution to her dilemma, or to feel like the dumbest person who had ever walked the planet. In an instant though, she had deposited Mac upon the floor and began fumbling furiously to try and remove the silver ring from her belly.
"Stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid…." She viciously berated herself under her breath.
"Oh, c'mon," Mac instinctively tried to take her down a notch and assuage her humiliation. "You're not-"
"Prove me wrong, Mac. Prove me wrong." She grumbled bitterly as she finally freed herself from her mark of shame. "For crying out loud, that was just plain pathetic back there when-"
"Mr. Herriman didn't find out, did he?" the boy pointed out. Unable to deny that much, Frankie sighed as she gave him a pat on the head.
"I'll give you that much." She replied with a bit of a relieved smile. "Still…"
She knelt down upon one knee, held the ring up before him, looked straight into his eyes and ordered flatly, "Don't you ever, ever, ever, ever, ever do something like this, ever. Understand?"
"Okay, Frankie." he dutifully answered.
"You better." She emphasized sternly as she warningly wagged a finger. "I'm serious, if we have to go through anything like this with you, then I'll-"
"All right, I get it!" the child yelped. "I geit it-"
Ding dong!
Mac was suddenly interrupted in mid-sentence by the shrill chime of the doorbell. Now that she no longer had to worry about hiding anything, Frankie instinctively answered the door, greeting automatically as she did, "Welcome to Foster's Home for Imaginary Friends, how can I-oh!"
Once she saw the familiar black-haired young woman standing there on the front porch, Frankie immediately gasped, "Kathy! What are you doing here?"
Immediately, her best friend winced painfully and hastily gestured for the caretaker to try and quiet down.
"Frankie, not so loud!" she begged as she rubbed her temples. "My head's killing me from-"
"Last night?" the redhead interrupted. "Oh my God, you're not going to believe what happened to me, I actually managed to-"
"Oh yeah?" Kathy just scowled sourly, hardly appearing concerned. "Try me."
"No, you don't understand!" Frankie tried to explain as Mac meanwhile curiously plodded over to take his place by her side. "I mean, I accidentally went a little overboard last night too, but then I…or at least I think I….see, otherwise I can't explain how I got…I-I'm not sure if you were there, or if on the way home I…"
After getting herself much too worked up, Frankie finally showed off her piercing as she declared, "Okay, look, from now on, it's only two drinks when we go out, and...no, no, you know what? One drink maximum that's all! Got it? I mean seriously, Kathy, how else could you let me go through with this last night?"
Without a word, the other woman turned around, grabbed her shirt, and lifted. Before he knew it, Mac found his vision completely obscured as Frankie instinctively clapped her hands over his eyes, thus dutifully preventing him from seeing the small, bright blue crescent moon freshly tattooed on Kathy's lower back.
As the redhead's jaw nearly hit the floor, her friend turned her head around and grumbled bitterly, "You're not the only one around here looking for some answers!"
The End