A/N: I kinda had to rush to get this out on time, so I wasn't able to edit it as much as I would have liked...plus, I tried to combine two separate ideas into one fanfiction, and I think that just makes it a bit abrupt-seeming with the two distinctly different concepts, as hard as I tried to connect them together. And the pacing's REALLY off—actually, EVERYTHING seems to happen really abruptly or just really slowly. AND it's heavily dialogue-based, which is never really a good sign for me. AND even though I tried not to make it a clone of "Midnight And A Full Moon", a lot of little similarities slipped in there. So, basically, this is a far cry from the best I can do, but hopefully you'll give it a chance anyways.

...As well, even though the most-referenced holiday in this fic is Christmas, it's really not about that celebration specifically; it's about the whole season and all winter holidays in general. And, in addition, let it be known that this is NOT a BlooXMac fic—if you want to read that into it, fine, that's your business, but I didn't write it with those intentions in mind.

'Tis The Season

(The Illustrious Crackpot)

"AAAAAAUGH!! Why won't it snow?!"

The small, blue Imaginary Friend threw his arms into the air in disgust, glaring venomously up at the sky. It absorbed his gaze impassively, remaining dully gray, the blotchy clouds stalwartly refusing to open up and fulfill his demand.

"Come ooooooooooonnnnnnnnnnnnnnn..." Bloo whined, slouching forwards on the porch he was sitting on. "Just a few measly feet, is that too much to ask?!? Pleeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeease?"

Realizing that begging was having no effect, he flailed his arms angrily, nearly dislodging the scarf wound around his neck. "Aw, come onnnn ALREADY!!!!! What a total ripoff!"

The boy seated next to him stared at the sky as well, though he remained substantially more quiet than his companion. Surprising as it was, he thought, Bloo was sort of right—December without snow was really just November, except much colder and much yuckier.

"You'd think it'd at least snow for Christmas Eve," Mac murmured softly, rubbing his mittened hands together. He exhaled, a small wisp of crystallized air escaping his mouth only to disappear. "It...it just kinda doesn't seem right without snow."

"Duhhhh!" Bloo turned to his Creator, his expression clearly reading that he simply couldn't believe how everyone in the world besides him could be so dense. "Like, how're we gonna SNOWBOARD without SNOW? And EVERYONE knows that snowboarding is the best thing about Christmas!"

"Oh, Bloo..." Mac sighed heavily, forming another cloud of ice crystals that dissipated within a single instant. "First of all, no it's not. And secondly, sledding down a hill in an empty pizza box isn't snowboarding."

There was a short pause as Bloo just looked at Mac blankly. "Well, of COURSE that's not snowboarding!" he snapped at length, spreading his arms. "Jeez, what, do you think I'm THAT stupid?"

Deciding that answering that question would be more trouble than it would be worth, Mac just went on with his explanation. "Bloo, you just don't get it..." Twisting around, the boy picked up an unfolded, tray-shaped piece of cardboard, which had been lying on the porch behind him, and held it out to Bloo. "We were going to sled down a hill in an empty pizza box, not snowboard."

Another pause.

"WHAT?!?" Bloo demanded shrilly, snatching the box away from Mac and frantically inspecting it at every possible angle, turning it up and down and staring at every cranny as if trying desperately to find some proof that it could not and did not exist. "You told me we were going SNOWBOARDING!"

Mac shook his head slowly, taking the box back before Bloo could rip it. "Nnnnnnnnnno, I didn't."

"Yes you DID! You totally did!!! It was like yesterday, and you were all 'Hey, Bloo, let's go snowboarding and pick up some chicks!' And I was all, 'YEEEEEEAH, this's gonna be awesome!' and you were all 'Let's do it tomorrow and stuff, dude-io'!" The Imaginary Friend's voice had been growing progressively louder as he ranted, and his excessive hand (appendage?) gestures became more and more exaggerated. "You can't deny it!!"

For a short while, his only response from his Creator was an incredulous, glassy-eyed stare. "...Okay, now I know it's a bad idea to try to have a conversation with you when you're watching TV," Mac said finally, before adding under his breath, "Why would I want to 'pick up chicks' anyways?"

Bloo openly scoffed at him, crossing his arms superiorly. "Oh, sure, blame me for wanting to cool-ify my nerdy Creator! If anything, you should be thanking me, for raising your self-esteeeeeem!"

"How does misquoting me raise my self-esteem?" Mac demanded, voice cracking as a somewhat pleading tone slipped in. Why couldn't Bloo just admit that he was wrong, for once in his lifetime?! "If anything, it lowers my self-esteem, 'cus it lets me know that you don't pay any attention to me!"

Panting from the outburst, Mac looked back over at his Imaginary Friend, who was staring up at the sky again in total silence. Then with a jolt, as if only just realizing that the boy was there, Bloo turned back to his Creator and inquired innocently, "Did you say something?"

"Arrrrgh!"

Ruffling his hair with almost worrying force, Mac fell onto his back, making a hollow-sounding thunk reverberate through the wooden porch. With a final groan, and the knowledge that Bloo was again sky-watching rather than paying him any mind, he decided to just drop the argument—fighting with Bloo never got you anywhere, since he always had SOMETHING to shoot back.

"Besides, it's not like we can even go pizza-sledding anyways without snow."

Bloo nodded slowly, eyes still riveted on the sky. "Yeaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhh..."

Silence reigned once again as boy and Friend just gazed at the impassive gray clouds, waiting patiently for white flakes, for snow, for winter, for Christmas, for—

"C'MON, SNOW ALREADY!!" Bloo screeched, tearing off his scarf and snapping it at the sky like he thought he could whip the snow out of it. "JUST! GIVE! UP! AND! SNOW! GYAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!!! WOULD IT KILL YOU TO JUST SNOW, YOU STUPID—"

Mac bore the tirade out patiently, rolling his eyes when Bloo's threats started getting more and more ludicrous—"...AND YOU KNOW WHAT? I KNOW THE WEATHERMAN, CLOUDS! OH, NOT SO HIGH-AND-MIGHTY NOW THAT YOU KNOW THAT I CAN CONTROL YOU WITH HIS WEATHER-MASTERING POWERS!!..."—and eventually shifting onto his side, his back to Bloo, in an effort to block out the constant stream of inane demands. He waited, ear pressed against the flaps of his woolen cap pressed against the nearly-frozen wood of the porch of the Victorian mansion, still breathing quietly. At last, after nearly five minutes, when the cold had already brought a red glow to Mac's cheeks and the uninterrupted discourse had sent all air whooshing from Bloo's lungs, silence descended once more, broken only by a haggard panting and wheezing.

"So," Bloo suddenly started in brightly, plopping himself back onto the porch beside Mac, "what presents did'ja ask for this year?"

The boy's shoulders tensed, but Bloo didn't notice, as entirely focused as he was on Mac's prone form. "Ummmm..." Mac ventured cautiously, voice once more cracking ever-so-slightly as he fixed his gaze on some pattern in the porch's wood grain, "what...did...you ask for this year?"

"What didn't I ask for, ya mean!" Not even detecting the obvious evasion, Bloo immediately became immersed in his fantasies, flailing his arms this way and that in a pantomime of his plans for the following morning. "Well, I already know that Santa's bringing me a red-and-white, stripes-down-the-middle, flames-on-the-sides, Two-Thousand-X Convertible Snowmobile™, since he obviously forgot to bring it last year...actually, that whole mix-up with giving me someone else's coal means that I'm, like, entitled to TWICE the presents this year, and it is gonna be so-o-o-o SAH-WEET! I mean, once I've got the snowmobile, I'm gonna be setting up SUPER-TRICKY-MAD-SKILLZ trails on my personal planet—I asked the fat man to just put the deed in my stocking, I mean, there's no WAY he's stuffin' a PLANET down that chimney—and then after that I think I'll go tour my paddleball factory, and maybe swim in my SODA LAKE, and then...man oh MAN am I gonna have the best Christmas ever!" He paused, then looked up at the sky. "Well...if it'll actually snow, I mean. BUT I'LL FIND A WAY TO MAKE IT SNOW!!!"

Mac remained where he lay, unusually stiff, and hoped fervently that his Friend had forgotten the original question.

"So then, yeah, what'd you ask for?"

So much for that idea.

The boy curled into a ball, arms wound tightly around his legs, mind racing to come up with some excuse. This was worse than no snow—he hadn't wanted Bloo to ask the question, he hadn't wanted to have to deal with it, he only wanted the skies to let down some drifts so they could go pizza-box-sledding before he had to go home at six for dinner...

"WeeeeeeEEEEEEELLLLlll? Earth to Maccy-boy, he-LLO-o! I so know you're not frozen, 'cus if you were, you wouldn't be...NOT-FROZEN!"

"...Mmmfght," Mac mumbled, turning his face into the edge of his cap.

Bloo cocked his head, leaning closer to his Creator. "Wassat?"

"Rrnnftnnft."

"No, seriously, I can't hear ya, man."

At last, utterly fed up, Mac flopped onto his back, eyes screwed shut in an attempt to ward off any unwanted attentions. "NOTHING, OK? I ASKED FOR NOTHING!"

After a moment of shocked silence, Bloo waved a cautious "hand" in front of the boy's face. "Hey...hey, buddy..." he inquired slowly, a rare note of concern in his voice, "are you all right?"

"YESI'MFINE!" Mac snapped in a single breath.

Bloo continued to wave down at him, even though Mac's eyes were still closed—then, remembering something he'd once seen the boy's mother doing, attempted to check his forehead for fever. "And you really asked for NOTHING?" the Friend went on in a hushed voice, as if afraid that this blasphemy might be overheard. This concept he was being introduced to seemed absolutely overpowering.

"YES!"

Deciding that Mac showed no symptoms of sickness, Bloo instead paused, rubbing his head as he thought this over incredulously. Then some sort of dawning comprehension lit up his eyes, and a huge grin spread across his face. "Ohhhhhhhh, I get ittttt..." he exhaled slowly, then nearly leapt into the air. "You're trying to look selfless for your mom so she'll think you're really cool and give you MORE presents! That's GENIUS! Why didn't I think of that?!?"

"No, Bloo, it's nothing like that!" Mac finally sat up, feeling queasy as he watched Bloo revel in the "brilliance" of such a plot. This was why he hadn't wanted Bloo to know...it was bad enough having TERRENCE accusing him! "I really don't want any presents this year! I even told my mom not to get me any!"

Bloo paused again, but only for a moment. "Ahhhh...you just want SANTA to cough up, eh?" He jabbed a blobby appendage into Mac's chest approvingly. "I like your style, kid. You get as much loot as you want and your mom loves you for costing so little!"

"AUUUUUUGH! NO!"

With sudden, unexpected ferocity, Mac shoved Bloo away from him, instead collapsing against the porch railing, resting his head against the posts. Bloo, looking somewhat affronted, raised an eyebrow at him, unsure of what was going on. "Dude, what's your problem?"

"I don't want any presents," Mac repeated dully, fists clenching the rails like his last lifelines. "That's not what Christmas is about, Bloo! I don't...I don't..." He shut his eyes, letting his forehead grate against the smooth wood. "I don't want to feel like I'm being bribed."

"Pssssshht!" Bloo dismissed the matter with a wave of his hand. "If that's bribery, then BRIBE ME, baby, BRIBE ME!"

"No! It's just...so STUPID!" Mac closed his eyes again, his insides reeling with confusion. These were concepts too huge for a nine-year-old to figure out on his own...why had he been dragged into this conversation? He should have been wishing for snow to play in, not having some pseudo-capitalistic argument with his greedy best friend! Why wouldn't it snow, just let out some snow, distract Bloo from the question and give them back their opportunity to act like the children they were?

"That's not what this season is about, Bloo..." he forced out. "I mean, everywhere I go, I see ads with Santa in them, and commercials with Santa in them, and all sorts of things that they say are about Christmas but are really about selling things!" Mac lifted his gaze to his Friend's, feeling helplessness overcome him as he battled the beliefs he'd always held and the new ones forced on him every day. "Bloo, how can I accept twenty-dollar action figures for free when I know that there are other kids out there who won't even have a decent dinner?"

Bloo shrugged as best as he could, given his anatomy. "Don't think about 'em."

"But I—"

"Look," Bloo began in a somewhat reprimanding tone, his eyes nearly boring holes into the boy's, "it doesn't matter what happens to other people. If THEY'RE not gonna get an overweight elf mucking about under their tree, well, that's not YOUR problem." Stepping backwards a little, he pointed towards the sky. "Now if you'll just help me perform the ritualistic dance to the gods of snow, we might be able to get enough of the white stuff on the ground to go snowboarding."

"Pizza-sledding," Mac corrected automatically, gaze fixed on the ground in front of him.

"Snowboarding."

All was silent once more as Bloo, his short attention span having already moved him onto another topic, began to do what looked like a rhumba that had gotten in an auto accident with a salsa dance. But Mac remained standing there, his arms down by his sides, dozens of thoughts struggling to escape his lips.

"...Not it."

Bloo froze mid-step, blinking at Mac. "Huh?"

"That's not it, either." He lifted his eyes back to Bloo's, trying to pour these strange thoughts right into his Friend, to help him understand, to help both of them understand. "Bloo...Bloo, Christmas isn't about gifts. Or even snow. I mean, Christmas is only connected with snow at all 'cus it's a tradition to celebrate it around this time of year. Christmas..." Mac shook his head. "No, not even Christmas—ALL the holidays people celebrate this time of year, like Hanukkah, or Kwanzaa, or Ramadan, or...or...or even if they don't celebrate anything at all. It doesn't matter if people buy you things. It just doesn't MATTER if it doesn't snow. It..."

Mac let out a breath that he hadn't known he'd been holding.

"It's about being with the people you love."

All of a sudden, Mac became startlingly aware of a strange, hiccuping noise emitting from the Imaginary Friend before him. Wonder of wonders, Bloo's face was buried in his arms, his entire form shuddering like prodded JELL-O as he let out muffled whimpers. "Bloo!" Mac gasped, amazed that his words had had such a profound effect on his Friend—and also slightly worried. He placed his hands on the closest approximation of Bloo's shoulders, trying to steady him. "Bloo...Bloo, are you all—"

"BWAHAHAHAHAHAHAAAAAA!!!!!!!!" Bloo finally exploded, tears of mirth cascading down his cheeks. "WAHAHAHAHAHA!! AW, MAN, MAC, IS THAT A GOOD ONE! GWAHAHAHAHAHAAAAAAA...GEEZ, FOR A SECOND I THOUGHT YOU WERE SERIOUS—"

There was a sharp click as the door behind them eased open, interrupting Bloo's hysteria and Mac's growing sense of futility. A tall, redheaded young woman, bundled tightly in an emerald-green coat, stepped out onto the porch, a radiant grin on her face. The door she held open with a sneakered foot, as both her hands were occupied with two steaming white mugs.

"Hey, guys!" Frankie breezed breathlessly, moving her leg and letting the door swing shut. She held the two mugs out to Mac and Bloo, who stood frozen, staring up at her, the boy still gripping his Friend. "Still waiting for that snow, huh? Thought you might want some hot cocoa to pass the time."

Still a bit stunned, the two accepted the offering, staring down into the creamy brown depths of their treats.

"Thank y—" Mac began, but was cut off by a substantially louder bang! as the door was flung wide open to admit more visitors.

"Hola, Señor Mac! Hola, Azul!" cried the raspy voice of a large, purple bull-like Friend, his heavy footsteps echoing across the porch as he walked out. "Todavía no hay nieve...ay yi yi, es MUY málo."

"Yeah, that is pretty bad," agreed his tall, red companion, smiling down at the pair even more widely than Frankie. A pile of thick, green blankets was draped over his one remaining arm. "But hey, if we're real lucky, maybe it'll start snowing soon, and then we can play a while before Mac has to go home!"

Another Friend, who looked like some combination of a bird, a tree and an airplane, burst straight out of the house and began running in circles, shouting, "COCOCOCOCOCOCOCO!!" In one swift movement, Coco used her beak to flip Mac and Bloo onto her back, where Wilt deftly wrapped a pair of blankets around them both before Eduardo reached up and placed them back on the porch.

"Yup, that definitely looks like a snow sky," Wilt remarked encouragingly, plopping himself onto the porch and wrapping an arm around the boy and his Friend, both absolutely overwhelmed by this rapid change in their environment. "You know what? I wouldn't be surprised if it started to snow any minute now!"

"¡Sí!" Sitting down on their other side, Eduardo carefully tucked their blankets in more firmly before taking his own from Wilt, settling down for the wait. "And if there is no snow, then we is still warm and toasty, ¿no?"

"Cococo!"

And with that, the new group of Imaginary Friends began to chatter aimlessly, bringing up such unrelated subjects as the latest sports match to the decorations on the Foster's Christmas tree to the movies they wanted to watch to how much they enjoyed being able to sit there on the porch and talk about things. Still beaming, Frankie excused herself to bring out more snacks, and after a loud, chorused "THANK YOU!" the chatter was resumed at even stranger subjects than the ones that had preceded them.

Only Bloo sat in silence, glancing confusedly from his steaming drink to the snowless sky above, wondering how on Earth all that had happened so fast.

"Bloo."

The word was spoken quietly, and the small mittened hand that patted him affectionately on the head was warm—warmer, somehow, than the hot chocolate.

"Look around you, Bloo," Mac continued, face still flushed from the cold, but his expression was that of the utmost content. "Isn't this better than having a soda lake, or even your own planet?"

Bloo began a heated, scornful reply, but was cut off as Wilt leaned too far over and narrowly brushed against the small, blue Friend. The contact made his skin tingle, and suddenly the very atmosphere started to tingle, and he stared back into his cup.

High up, far above the heads of the lively group, higher even than the tip of the austere mansion, a single snowflake slipped out from between the clouds and drifted placidly to the earth, reaching the frozen porch just as the little Imaginary Friend let out a mumble almost too soft to hear.

"...I love you guys..."

Fin