Author's Note: I haven't been much for 30Kisses lately, sorry. Then I wrote four drabbles yesterday, finished this off today...and voila.

Foster's isn't mine.

Bendy Returns ("Framed")

Frankie faced the same infernal wall she'd regarded two hours ago. Bereft of a proper "punishment", Mr. Herriman had sentenced her to stare at the wall until she understood why its uniformity must become her. If those infernal emotional surges hadn't eddied that very moment, she might have intimated he'd sniffed a powder that wasn't sugar. As it was, she stared at his office wall and listened to him scratch his feather quill on an adoption form. His brown eyes bored holes into the back of her head.

"Mr. H?" she inquired and he murmured 'hmm' to indicate he was paying attention. Although her pseudo sentence included silence, he hadn't scolded her. Smiling minutely, she whirled the chair around and met his gaze.

Beneath his grey white fur, he blushed. He ought to reprimand her and personally ease her chair into its proper position. He ought to commandeer her as he ordered himself. But whenever he looked at her, he melted inside, more often lately. He reminded himself mentally she was a member of the household and therefore, should receive no special treatment, but his affections towards her defied control. The paw holding his quill he reluctantly loosened lest ink splatter all over the place.

"Frankie?" he replied, a half second later realizing he'd accidentally used her nickname. He blushed deeper and she smiled wider, transforming his embarrassment into a heat visible beyond his fur. Wishing he had a water bucket to dunk his head, he was surprised to discover that he wasn't alone. Although Frankie was still smiling at him, the grin was sheepish and her face matched her hair.

Rising, he hopped to the window and heaved the window open. A pleasant breeze filtered throughout the room, but it didn't alleviate the tremendous temperature increase. Moments passed before either felt quite up to speaking again and Frankie had to dunk her head outside. Unfortunately, since Mr. H was already standing there, their faces came awfully close. In fact, if he'd inclined his head a fraction of an inch, their lips would have met.

"Miss Frances?" he offered feebly after she'd fanned herself to no avail. "What is it you wished to ask me?"

She blinked, completely at a loss. What was it she wanted to ask? There'd been that instant when their lips nearly brushed together, her palms sweated, her heart hammered, and the heat in her face. That instant had wiped her mind clean and whatever she'd contrived beforehand had vanished. Had he wanted to incline his head? Was he even aware of their proximity? Why was he blushing in the first place? Did he have those weird affectionate bursts too? What on earth was wrong with them?

"I…have no idea."

"Oh. I see."

Awkward silence. Overheard, Bloo smashed something, but neither flinched. Wilt stammered an apology and near them, imaginary friends cheered. It sounded suspicious and they required anything to dissolve the bizarre mood. Despite the fact Frankie was still technically 'serving time', they rose simultaneously and darted to investigate. His paw brushed her hand at the door and they took two separate routes to avoid the thoughts circling madly.

Bloo loathed Bendy. In fact, loathing could not begin to describe just what he wanted to have done to him or the depth of his feelings. After a three-month absence where one hoped he might have received training in how not to frame imaginaries and humans, he'd returned to cause more mayhem than any of them deemed possible. Instead of throwing himself at the mercy of both Frankie and Herriman, he was trying to pit them against each other. Not altogether a stupid strategy and therein lay the problem- not only was Bendy intelligent, he was probably smarter than most of the friends here combined. Certainly clever enough to evade capture by the authority figures to whom he whined.

Wilt refused to call him a "bad idea", but Bloo had no problems with it. For whatever reason Gregory deemed necessary, he'd imagined a friend to commit every act he could and then blame it on Bendy. Lamentably, Bendy had learned from his creator the very same tactic and employed it endlessly, reveling in their torture while he skipped away scotch free. Or, in the case of Bloo, in much more trouble than Bendy could have been by upping the ante too far.

A shattered priceless vase laid in pieces at his 'feet', but he'd only arrived a minute ago. Bendy knew Mac showed up at three o'clock and if Bloo wasn't hovering expectantly by the door, he'd be dashing to meet him. Therefore, he'd planned accordingly. Bloo seethed, glancing at Bendy's fawning fans and flipping them off by sticking up his stub in what he hoped was a derogative gesture. How on earth the sneaky devil won fans he couldn't figure out, but they admired his work and, Bloo suspected, his dislike for Bloo. It had been Bloo who extracted him in the first place and since his return, he'd done everything in his power to make the poor imaginary blob's life miserable. He'd succeeded, too- thrice this week Bloo had been denied time to see his best friend. It drove him insane.

Telltale hops warned Bloo of his impending doom and he glared hatefully at Bendy. Snickering, he drummed his razor like fingers together and gloated. That was, until Frankie bowled him over and he slammed into the floor. Then it was Bloo's time to gloat…until Mr. Herriman arrived at the opposite end of the corridor. Grand, sandwiched between two authority figures and framed to boot. Could things get worse?

"Master Blooregard!" Mr. Herriman said sternly, waggling a 'finger' at him. "I believe I told you if you were to commit another act, you would not be able to see Master Mac for a week."

"It wasn't me!" he protested and Frankie lifted the struggling Bendy by his arm. He whined, shooting to Mr. Herriman, but she held firm about his middle. Mr. Herriman blinked, surprised by her antics. Bloo's, of course, he anticipated.

"He's telling the truth," she asserted and, hissing, he raked her arm. Cackling madly, he tore off down the stairwell and into a random part of the house. Bloo cried 'ha!' and demanded Herriman investigate further, but he was too preoccupied with Frankie's arm, which now sported three long, wavering gashes.

"Do you trust me?" Frankie murmured, wincing as Herriman applied sterilization fluids to the wound. She'd tried to tend to herself, but he insisted. The color briefly rose in her cheeks again, but she concentrated on his tender touch and the softness of his paw on her arm. He paused, glancing up and examining her closely.

"I beg your pardon?" he inquired politely, tearing his eyes away to gently wrap her arm protectively. His paws lingered but she grasped them ere he pulled back. Wishing her confidence extended further, she swallowed hard and squeezed.

"That was what I was going to ask you. Do you trust me?"

Rather than immediately responding, he deliberated, storing the materials. He hopped to her side and then to the window. Silence descended, heavy and practically palpable. She scowled, wondering what on earth was so difficult to answer. Overhead, curses flew like fine wine, but they ignored them. She'd catch and contend with Bendy later (and, oh, would that be a massacre). In the meanwhile, her heartbeat tripled; he had to be saving up to say something tremendous. After all, why would he wait so long?

"I trust you…" he began warily and laid a paw on her shoulder. "I trust you as a friend…"

Inexplicably, those words deflated her and she rose wearily, oddly drained. Her wound throbbed, but her heart more so. If he trusted her as a friend, he wanted nothing else. The emotions swirling around her, the ones that whispered promise and hope, dropped into an abyss. Yet there seemed to be words hiding behind the cloth, words he longed to express but couldn't. Hand trembling, she lifted it to his cheek and held it there. Her heart threatened to drum itself out of her chest.

"What about…as a lover?" she whispered, barely audible and lightly brushed her lips against his. His paw rose to remove her hand from his face; he placed her arms around his neck and wrapped his around her waist. He gazed at her urgently and narrowed the distance between their lips. The instant they brushed again, there was a squeak, and a thud. It seemed they'd found Bendy's hiding place.

Frankie opened a cabinet to find Bendy practically groveling. He wrapped his arms around her legs and whined plaintively. She blinked, taken aback, and stared at Mr. Herriman. He looked as clueless as she felt.

"Enough! I confess to everything! Just don't ever do that again!" he moaned.

Frankie suppressed a snicker. Despite her inner fury at his interruption, she had to admit this rather befitted him. If he persisted in pestering imaginary friends and ruining their happiness, he ought to receive the same. Lamentably, it had come at the risk of exposure to a situation she hadn't understood existed until recently. However, she might be able to buy his silence. Unfortunately, therein laid a problem- Bendy could blackmail them. Hopefully, that wouldn't happen. Hopefully he'd learn his lesson simply by lingering in the wrong place at the wrong time.

Regaining his composure like it never evaded him, Mr. Herriman stiffened and hoisted Bendy up by his scrawny arm. He opened his mouth to apprehend him when Bloo tore into the room. Eyes dancing maniacally, he held a picture and waved it frantically. This was starting to get a little out of hand.

"Bendy did it! I can prove it!" he cried.

"Without flooding the house?" Frankie muttered sarcastically. It'd taken them ages to amend the damage he'd caused by proving he'd stolen a cookie. It fit Mr. Herriman's retort- "if they were harebrained (schemes), they'd be clever". Bloo never fully thought through his plans. She hoped she wouldn't walk into the lobby and find the imaginary friends submersed. Oh, that was a nightmare.

"Yes, yes, yes!" he said impatiently.

"I turn myself in! Let me go back to Faust's Home for Delinquent Friends!" Bendy protested. "No more!"

"I won!" Bloo whooped and Frankie rolled her eyes. No, actually, her budding romance with Mr. Herriman had saved the day, but she'd let him have this one. She didn't really want to take the time to explain it to someone who probably couldn't keep his mouth shut to save his life.

"To Faust's it is," Mr. Herriman said, smiling.

A couple weeks later, Frankie stared at the sunset and ran her fingers over her mending wound. The telltale hops informed her she had company and, smiling, she turned in his direction. He smiled back, wrapping an arm possessively around her waist when they ascertained no one spied them. She leaned against him and relished simply the feel of him.

"How is it healing?" he inquired, running his paw over it.

"Getting there. Think we ought to 'punish' unruly friends by forcing them to watch us making out?" she teased and he blanched. Chuckling at his reaction, she pecked him on the cheek affectionately.

"Kidding, kidding."

"I certainly hope so, Miss Frances. We are not-"

"One of these days, I'm going to teach you the gift of recognizing a joke," she quipped, grinning ruefully.

Wrapping her arms around his neck, she kissed him passionately, all the while mentally snickering at Bendy's confession. All's well that ends well.

"Shriek; shout"

He hated when they shouted. Passing imaginary friends, completely cognizant of the rules yet disregarding them nonetheless, screamed nonsensically to each other in the halls. Yet the instant he opened his mouth to protest, she shut it for him. Smiling mysteriously, she outwardly scolded him about the insurmountable list of chores and inwardly shoved him into his office. A second or two would pass, and then, like magnets drawn together, their lips would meet and not separate. She'd back him into the desk and there they'd stay, making out and unaware of the world at large, only noticing their linked lips. The world had shrunk to the two of them.

In retrospect, when he thought about it, perhaps screams weren't that bad.

"Try over there..."

Love has a funny way of sneaking up on someone and whacking them smack in the back of the head. They clutch it, moan they're going to get a concussion, all the while their thoughts are obsessive, the reactions of a madman. They eat, sleep, and drink the other. No matter where they turn, they see them. No matter what they do, their words, their actions, their very being infiltrates them. Two have become one.

Never is this more evident with a couple such as Frankie and Herriman. A human and an imaginary rabbit, yet their actions are in harmony. They give themselves to each other wholly, mindful nonetheless of their surroundings and the secrecy of their relationship. Their personalities balance each other out as well. Despite minute flaws, they metamorphose into something perfectly imperfect. A combination of thoughtfulness and physicality.

Of course, they know such a pairing could hardly be considered 'normal' by any standards. They care not. Wrapped in their own bundle of happiness, they ignore any naysayers and, at night, cuddle in one another's arms. Human and human couples have been far less contented.

Nonetheless, if you're looking for the picture perfect romance, "try over there…"