I think that the idea of Mac liking Frankie is just too cute! Even before the episode "My Dear Frankie" I thought this. However were never any stories on that had this almost-couple. So I thought I'd be the first…. Somewhere. In any case, this is a ficlit about Mac's crush on the older woman. It's short, but sweet.

Disclaimer: I do not own the characters of "Foster's Home of Imaginary Friends". I do own this story idea, though, therefore it cannot be recreated by anyone.

Enjoy reading!

:First Love:
By Pixie Ayanami

The warmth of late spring lingered in the air as the early twilight began to appear in the rosy skies of the evening. The sounds of birds singing their happy tunes and of children who have not yet gone inside rose in the far distance. Now that it was the later part of May, everything seemed to finally break free of the hold of winter. Everything, from birds to flowers to children, became active at this time of year, and on this night everything was doing something.

Well, almost everything. In the Foster's household, there was one person who wasn't.

Now, usually things are quite active in this house. When holding about a million lost imaginary friends, things were bound to become a little hectic. Hectic, yet fun. However, the house's little helper didn't feel like doing anything along those likes today. Mac sat on the bay window and stared, lost in his own little world.

"What's up, hombre?" the familiar voice of Mac's imaginary friend piped up from behind him. Mac looked down at the little blue… thing. Bloo obliviously stood there whacking his paddle ball like always. The eight year old sighed and stared back out the window.

"Nothing," Mac replied simply.

"Wanna watch me play paddle ball?" Bloo asked, enthusiastically paddling the toy.

"Nah, you're not very good at it," Mac said. Bloo lost the ball in the process, proving Mac's statement.

Scoffing, Bloo retorted, "Well, it's not like you have anything better to do."

"Oh, I'm doing something," he vaguely replied, attempting to hide a piece of paper by his side.

"Like what, staring?" Bloo asked sarcastically. Catching sight of the paper, Bloo promptly went up to Mac's side and swiped it away, asking, "Hey, what's this?"

"Bloo, don't look at that, it's really nothing…" Mac pleaded instantly, attempting to take the piece of paper back. Bloo didn't have to look at it for long to know what it was and gave it up instantly.

"Oh, I know what you're doing now! You're waiting for Frankie to come back from her date, isn't that right? Cuz you still like her!" Bloo deemed while pointing his arm up at Mac accusingly.

"Th-that's not it at all! I just made her a present is all, and I was just staring outside because… the sunset is pretty," Mac lied. "Besides, you liked her, too!"

"Yeah, well, I gave up on her a long time ago," Bloo replied with a smug look on his face. "I know when someone is outta my league, and she is outta mine." Knowing that Mac was the only one of the two that still liked the twenty-two year old made him blush embarrassedly.

"Well, that's beside the point," Mac then said, "Her last few dates have been really bad, and she told me that she wasn't expecting much out of this one. So I made her a present in case she comes home upset again."

Bloo shrugged, randomly starting to play with his paddle ball again. "Well, if you want to waste your evening sitting around for a girl that's like ten times older than you, be my guest. I'm gonna go watch t.v. with Wilt or something. Adios." The blue imaginary friend bounced away attempting to play with the toy still.

Mac turned back to the window. If he was ten years older, everything would be alright. He could be dating Frankie. Four years between their ages would be a lot better than fourteen years. But that wasn't going to happen. Ever. His best chances were probably to find a girl who's a lot like Frankie when he's older. But still, that wouldn't be fore years. He'd just have to settle to liking the adult now.

There was still a bit of light outside from the sunset. Looking up at the clock, Mac saw that it was only 6:30. Frankie left at five. He didn't know when she'd be back, but he ran outside anyways, seeing as though there was enough time to pick her some of the lovely flowers Madame Foster planted in the front yard.

Usually gardeners would find some sort of pattern to follow as they plant their flowers, but Madame Foster held no such thought as she planted hers. Yellow daffodils stood beside purple irises and deeply hued violets. Against the wall, deep red roses intertwined with light purple lilacs. Even though some people would think the combination was horrible. Madame Foster and the imaginary friends took a great liking to the mix, finding the flowers to be exactly like them: unpredictable and wild. Mac liked them too, just finding them to be extremely pretty. Not that he sat around looking at flowers all day.

In the end he picked Frankie a few pink flowers he didn't know the names of and some white ones he knew were daisies. He tried to pick them delicately but the flowers' stems were of different lengths, making them uneven when he held them. Mac just hoped that Frankie wouldn't notice or care about that.

Not long after the eight year old went back inside did a red car pull up to the Foster's Home sidewalk. Mac glanced out the window to see Frankie stepping out of it. He never saw the date, but Frankie made no move for any conversation or other romantic gestures, so it was obvious she wasn't interested in the man. The woman didn't even dress up much for this one. She was wearing hip-hugger jeans and a pink t-shirt. The trend of her actually dressing up for dates gradually decreased with everyone. From where she really dressed up for her first date with that evil man Dylan Quinn, she now wore clothes that she might wear around the home.

Mac tried to not look like he was waiting for her as Frankie quickly strode up the walkway. When she finally walked inside and closed the door she let out a long exhausted sigh. Mac peered over from his spot as she slipped off her shoes by the door and set down her purse. "Hey, Frankie. How'd this one go?" Mac asked nervously.

Frankie sighed again, not looking at the boy. "This one was a total wash out. So much for that 'nice and cool guy' my friend described. He was totally arrogant, and kind of smelled like garlic… which is a little creepy," Frankie ranted, walking over besides the younger boy. "Word of advice: never let your friends set you up with dates, they usually aren't very good catches."

She sat down on the floor next to Mac's seat and held up a take-out box. "The good thing is I managed to save some French fries for ya," she said with a sweet smile. Mac accepted the box and started to eat some from it. "So," Frankie continued, "What'd you do while I was gone?"

Mac swallowed his French fry. Setting down the box, he fumbled for the piece of paper and flowers while saying, "I um… well I got this for you." He slowly gave the older woman the pink and white flowers he picked along with the piece of paper.

Frankie looked over the paper. It was a drawing of herself with crayons and in pen at the top had the statement "Frankie is cool" written on it. She smiled. "Thanks Mac, this is so sweet…" Frankie said, sniffing the flowers.

"Well… uh… yeah. I figured that since you usually don't have very good dates, I'd make you something to cheer you up if this one didn't go well either," he said, blushing again.

"Well, you made a good call, Mac," Frankie replied, "And the presents are very nice. You're cool, too."

"You know… that I'm always here for you… and stuff… right?" Mac asked quietly, looking away nervously.

Concern crossed Frankie's face. "Oh Mac..." she sighed, kneeling in front of the kid and putting her hands on his arms. "Do you still have that crush on me?" she asked gently. Mac didn't answer, just looked down at the ground. "I admit, you are a lot more mature than most of the guys that I've dated, and your logical, and nice, and polite, and so much more. And a lot of the guys I date are only out for one thing…"

"What's that?"

"Erm... nothing. Anyways, you have to understand, Mac. I'm… well, I'm a lot older than you are. Eventually you'll get older and find a girl who's even better than me to you, and you'll be happy. But you know, we can always be friends, right?"

Mac smiled. "Yeah, right."

Frankie took this time to look out the window. The sun had set long ago and it was cool and dark on the streets. "Ooh, Mac, you better be getting home. I'll drive you, ok?" Mac nodded and followed Frankie to the Foster's Bus. In no time the two of them slowed to a halt in front of Mac's apartment. "Here we are Mac."

"Thanks for the ride, Frankie," Mac said. Frankie couldn't help but hear a tinge of disappointment in his voice. She laughed a little and extended her arms towards him.

"Oh, come here," she said as she gave Mac a tight embrace. "You know, you're still the best."

"Thanks Frankie," Mac said again. This time he wasn't sad about saying it. He realized that though Frankie would never like him in the same way, they'd always be friends. "See you tomorrow?"

"You know it! Good night!" Frankie replied as she let the boy off the bus. After watching him safely make it inside, she switched the gear into drive while sighing. "Oh Mac…" she said to herself, "If you were only older…" The bus rolled down the street, becoming the only sound that faded away.