A/N: Disclaimer - Original characters are owned by CBS, all others are mine.

While this is a stand-alone one shot, I have made it consistent with references and the other background/kid stories I've written for Mac. So in a sense this is yet another sequel to You Can't Win 'em All and a prequel to Caught. I really enjoy writing about Mac's youth and can pretty much guarantee there will be more.

Thank you for reading and enjoy!

"Hi, Megan," Mac said as Megan Wright passed by where he was standing next to his locker.

"Hey, Mac," she replied with a small smile but without slowing down, her and her friends immediately putting their heads together and breaking out into thinly covered giggles.

Mac scowled, cheeks burning as he retrieved the last of his books from his locker and slammed it closed. He snuck a look over his shoulder as the group of girls and Megan disappeared around a corner, still all shoulder-to-shoulder. Girls are stupid, he thought angrily. Why did they have to go around in bunches and make sure he was the one left feeling like an idiot? It didn't help that even though Megan and her friends were all in his grade, he was keenly aware that he was still nearly a year younger than they were, and definitely on the smaller side of the rest of the boys in seventh grade, let alone the eighth graders who the girls seemed to gravitate towards anyway. Flinging his backpack on his shoulders, he marched down the hall and slid into his classroom a split second before the bell rang, swearing off girls and deciding to pretend Megan Wright didn't exist.

It didn't work. For starters she sat only two rows in front of him and he found he didn't want to move across the room. Although with Jimmy sitting next to him he found ample means to distract himself, both from the class and from Megan's brown hair which though pulled back in a ponytail, still fell past the top of the seat-back. But for some inexplicable reason, Megan still insisted on saying 'hi' to him at least a couple times a week as they passed in the hallway, immediately dissolving into that whispered giggling with her friends and sneaking backwards glances at him. It was extremely disconcerting, and not knowing in the least bit what any of it meant but not being able to shake the feeling that they were somehow making fun of him, left Mac deciding that girls were an impossible enigma and furthered his determination to have nothing to do with them.

Jimmy, of course, eventually noticed Megan's "hi's", and did nothing to ease Mac's discomfort by giving him an endless hard time about it, teasing him that Megan was his "giiiiiirrrlfriend" and that she "liiiiiked" him. This just increased Mac's anger and frustration over the whole thing, and he found himself cursing that he'd ever thought he'd liked Megan Wright and said Hi to her in the first place. Although if he was completely honest with himself, he never stopped having a crush on her.

Then everything changed.

It was the end of May, and with the start-up of Little League season a month earlier, Mac had all put Megan and her group of friends out of his mind. She hadn't said 'hi' to him in the hallway for a while even though she'd still specifically catch his eye and smile at him every so often, and with this being Mac's first year on the Little League tournament team instead of the regular one, he was throwing nearly all his energy and certainly all his attention towards practicing and getting on the starting lineup.

He was at his locker getting his books as usual when he noticed something different: instead of saying 'hi' or just shooting him a look as she passed, Megan (and her friends) were simply standing in the hallway all bunched together (as usual) and staring at him. Frowning, he turned his attention back to his locker before looking over his shoulder in their direction again. They were still sending him attempted surreptitious but obvious stares. When they noticed he had seen them all huddled together and paying attention to him, they whispered something to Megan and gave her a small push forward. She glanced somewhat sheepishly back at them before tossing her ponytail over her shoulder and walking up to Mac.

Mac stood motionless as Megan paused a bit shyly in front of him. Then his heart started pounding as she leaned in and whispered in his ear.

"I like you, Mac Taylor. I think you're kinda cute."

And before he knew what had happened, she'd planted a quick kiss on his cheek and had turned, flushed, to hurry back to her friends. His mind spun. Was that what it had all been about these last few weeks? She actually liked him and hadn't been laughing at him this whole time? Then why…? He mentally shook his head and decided that figuring out girls was far too complicated at the moment. What he did know was that she was walking away from him and he was just standing there like a lump.

"Hey, Megan," he called, taking half a step forward.

She stopped and looked back at him.

He felt his tongue struggling to form words as his brain tumbled over itself. "D'yawannnagot'mybaseballgame?" he heard come out.

"What?" Megan asked.

Mac felt his cheeks flush as he consciously slowed down his words. "Do you want to go to my baseball game?" he repeated, almost shyly now. His stomach twisted in the following pause that seemed to last forever. Stupid! he berated himself, Why would a girl want to go a baseball game? Although he had to admit he had no clue what exactly it was that girls liked to do. All he knew was that they seemed to travel in packs and talk about things which he had no knowledge of.

"Sure," Megan said, "When is it?"

"You do?" Mac almost stammered.

"Yeah," Megan answered, "I like baseball. So? When is it?"

"Oh um, Friday, after school."

"Cool. I'll see you then."

"Ok," Mac replied. And with a flip of her ponytail, Megan rejoined her friends and was instantly surrounded as they disappeared down the hall. Mac just stared after her, transfixed in place by what had just happened.

xxxxx

Friday, Mac's stomach would not stop doing nerve-wracked somersaults. It was bad enough they'd be playing the toughest team in their league, but now the fear that Megan would see him potentially screw up if he made some game losing error just compounded everything. He still couldn't get over the fact that a girl a year older than him actually apparently liked him, but it also made any possible flub on his part that much more embarrassing and would probably permanently entrench him in the 'kid' category to all the girls in his middle school. He didn't think he could live with that. He still looked like a kid. He didn't need the added humiliation of the reputation of one.

Jimmy, of course, noticed something was up. He'd been out of school sick when Megan had approached Mac the beginning of the week, and Mac had been beyond grateful for that fact and had kept his lips tightly sealed about the whole thing. But secrets didn't last very long in middle school, and Mac was actually astounded Jimmy hadn't somehow found out about it yet. Maybe if Jimmy had taken the time and the interest and wherewithal to butter up and wheedle the information out of Megan's friends he would have, but Jimmy wasn't in to that sort of thing and preferred to keep girls relegated to vague and pretend-adult talk. By lunch-time, Jimmy gave up in a huff trying to get Mac to talk and Mac found himself with ample time for his nerves to sing ever louder at him.

He half expected Megan not to meet up with him after school let out and had to swallow hard when he saw her waiting for him by the side entrance. His brain started doing those non-descript circles where he felt like he couldn't form words again. He took a deep breath and forced himself to walk up to her.

"Hi," he said. 'Hi'? That's it? he thought. Oh well, at least it wasn't some jumbled mess like the first time.

"Hey," she answered with a shy smile.

And suddenly Mac had a moment of clarity. For as much as she was clearly bolder at this stuff than he was, she was also nervous as well. It made Mac feel better that perhaps he wasn't totally out of his depth.

xxxxxxxxxxx

"Out!" Megan's father ordered furiously.

Mac couldn't get the car door open fast enough and almost tumbled onto the sidewalk in front of his house. Facing his parents was a far better prospect than remaining a moment longer with Megan's father who exited the car as well.

"Daaaad," Megan protested from the backseat.

Her father pointed his finger through the open window. "Not a word from you," he said furiously.

Megan crossed her arms defiantly at him and shot Mac the most apologetic and sympathetic look she could.

Mac appreciated it, but it wasn't going to help his situation in the slightest. He managed a watery smile in her direction before the heavy hand of Megan's father was on his collar and dragging him to his parents' front door. He heard the muffled sound of the doorbell from inside and ice filled his stomach.

It was his dad who opened the door and looked with puzzlement and some concern between the livid face of Megan's father who still hadn't relaxed his grip on Mac's collar, and the subdued countenance of his son.

"Are you Mr. Taylor?" Megan's father asked.

"Yes," McCanna replied.

"Do you know what I caught your son doing?" Megan's father asked, his voice shaking with fury.

McCanna looked down at Mac who met his father's gaze briefly before dropping his eyes again.

"He was kissing my daughter!"

McCanna raised his eyes to the street and noticed the car by the curb with Megan still sitting inside and staring in their direction before looking back down at his son who refused to raise his head. He suddenly found himself having to fight back an urge to grin outright. But he knew such a response would be disastrous and somehow kept his face perfectly straight. His endeavors were helped by the appearance of JoAnn over his shoulder.

"And you are…?" he asked the man who was still holding his son.

"Mark Wright," Megan's father answered, "Your son and my daughter are in the same grade and apparently he doesn't know how to keep his hands to himself," Mr. Wright finished furiously, giving Mac a small shake.

"Mac?" his father interrogated with a single word and a raised eyebrow.

Mac let his gaze flicker up to his father's before dropping it again. But despite the ten-ton brick in his stomach, the memory of Megan's hand in his, the impossible softness of her lips on his, the taste of her strawberry chapstick, the instant cascade and thrum of feelings his body had never experienced before, and the pure electricity of it all returned. He remembered them somehow getting closer together without really planning it, and how his heartbeat had echoed in his ears.

Even though her father had chosen to arrive early right then to pick her up, Mac didn't regret a second of any of it.

"What's going on?" his mother asked, having missed Mr. Wright's initial accusation that had descended on Mac's head moments before she had walked up.

"He got caught kissing a girl," McCanna answered simply, feeling almost nothing but acute sympathy for the position his son was now in.

"Mac Llewellyn Taylor, get in here and up to your room, now!" his mother said furiously, grabbing him by his arm, pulling him inside and shoving him towards the stairs.

Megan's father finally relinquished his hold as Mac stumbled inside.

Mac glanced towards his father as he headed for the stairs and his room. His dad shot him a somewhat soft look and jerked his head in the direction Mac was already headed, and Mac forced his lead feet up the steps.

Somewhat mollified and reassured by JoAnn's reaction that Mac was going to get into trouble, Mark Wright nodded a curt goodbye to Mac's parents and headed back to his car. McCanna could see the girl in the backseat start to say something before her father turned, and from the look on his face and the way the girl huffed and recrossed her arms, McCanna had no doubt that she would be getting into trouble as well.

"Jo…" McCanna tried in an attempt to anticipate the tirade he knew would come from his wife. But he was too late.

"What on earth was he thinking?" JoAnn started, referring to their son.

"Jo…"

"Kissing a girl already and apparently not a quick peck either?"

"Jo!" McCanna said emphatically, knowing that if he somehow didn't interrupt soon that his wife would gather full steam and there'd be no stopping her until she was done, and his little Don Juan wouldn't stand a chance

"What?" she returned.

"How old were you when you snuck your first kiss from a boy?"

"Just fourteen," JoAnn replied somewhat sheepishly and entirely catching her husband's point.

"And what would have happened if we had ever been caught while we were going out?"

JoAnn just blushed.

"Exactly," McCanna said.

"But we were already practically adults," JoAnn said, "Mac's only…"

"Almost thirteen," McCanna cut in, "I know, he's still young. But he's not going to be our wiry little boy for much longer. You realize he's only got one more year before he's in high school?"

"Oh lord," JoAnn said heavily as the imminence of such a significant milestone struck her. She sighed and glanced up the stairs. "What are we going to do with him?"

"Have our hands full I'm afraid," McCanna said wryly. He hadn't missed the glimmer in Mac's eyes as Mark Wright had mentioned what had happened and his son had clearly been remembering the incident. Not to mention that Mac had been brought home by the police only two weeks ago for being caught jumping the 'L' in front of the oncoming trains. "I'll go talk to him," McCanna said, giving his wife a peck on the cheek before heading upstairs.

xxxxxxx

"I didn't do anything," Mac protested immediately as his father entered the room, "I swear. We just kissed, that's all…"

MaCanna held up his hand and Mac instantly fell silent. "You should probably pick a better place to make out next time," McCanna said after a pause and keeping his face very serious.

Mac was completely nonplussed for a few seconds and then broke into a grin as he realized his father was entirely on his side. But he quickly cleared his throat and pulled himself together to copy his dad's look. "Yes sir," he replied.

"Is she cute?" McCanna asked, unable to hold back a small smile any longer.

"Yeah," Mac replied, his grin returning. His father smiled back before sitting down on the chair that was by the desk in the corner of the room.

"Look," McCanna said, "I have no illusions about the stuff you'll want to and probably will get up to with girls as you get older. Just…be careful and be smart about it. You know what I'm talking about?"

Mac did. From the practical implications of not getting caught kissing again, to things his twelve-year-old self obviously knew about but was still a bit embarrassed thinking about actually doing (he was savvy enough to know the pseudo adult talk he and Jimmy engaged in was exactly that: talk. Not that he'd ever admit that to Jimmy, particularly with his friend being a year and a half older than he was). He nodded to his father.

McCanna rose to leave.

"Dad?" Mac asked suddenly as his father was about to disappear into the hallway.

"Yeah?" McCanna said, turning back around

"Do all girls taste nice?"

McCanna choked back laughter at the earnest yet half-dreamy half-embarrassed look on his son's face and the utter youthfulness of the question. "Pretty much, son, pretty much. Now go do your homework or something," and shaking his head in amusement, he turned and left Mac's room, closing the boy's door behind him.

But Mac just leaned back on his bed, hands locked behind his head, staring at ceiling and dreaming of strawberry chapstick and the feathery feeling of Megan's dark brown bangs against his forehead.