(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.)

"Up, please!"

As soon as he heard the shrill squeak, which was promptly followed by a sharp tug upon his ankle, the towering imaginary friend halted midway across the foyer and glanced down with a surprised murmur. "Huh?"

Wearing a fat, toothy smile that spanned from ear to ear, the five-year-old redhead standing at his feet eagerly thrust her arms up towards him and was more than happy to repeat yet again, "Up, please!"

"Oh!" Wilt immediately broke out his trademark grin and burst out into gentle laughter once he recognized the extremely familiar request. "Oh, sure! Hold on!"

Frances "Frankie" Foster automatically started squealing in delight, and excitedly bounced up and down until the gangly figment had effortlessly scooped her up with his hand and lifted her high off the ground.

"There we go!" Wilt chuckled as he delicately placed her atop his shoulders. "Okay, now where do you want to-"

"Oh, for goodness sake!" someone suddenly groaned in dismay, bringing what otherwise would've been a heartwarming moment to a screeching halt. The second they heard the exasperated cry, the pair's gazes moved together over to the large imaginary rabbit wearing a displeased glower.

"Uh…I'm…I-I'm sorry," Wilt instinctively apologized as the grin vanished from his face while he was promptly awash with confusion. "But…is…i-is anything wrong, Mr. Herriman?"

"I should say so!" Mr. Herriman huffed and rolled his eyes in disbelief as he hopped into the foyer. "Master Wilt, are you carrying Miss Frances around again?"

"What?" Frankie immediately burst out whining unhappily from high atop her perch. "What? What? I said pwease!"

"I'm well aware that you remembered to use some matters here, but that's hardly the point." He scolded. "Miss Frances, how dare you continue to take constant advantage of one of the house's most good-natured residents? Honestly, I just-don't give me that look, young lady!"

As he sharply reprimanded the child while she impudently stuck out her tongue at him, Wilt shifted uneasily from foot to foot before timidly speaking up. "I'm…I'm sorry, Mr. Herriman, but…really, it's not much of a problem. She really doesn't weigh much at all, and she did ask first. I'm sorry, but I honestly don't have any issues with it…plus, she likes it when I-"

"Master Wilt, I understand that you don't see anything wrong with granting a child's request," Mr. Herriman granted. "But I must warn you that unless you start setting limits for her now, then mark my word, she will-"

"Oh, goodness gracious, Funny Bunny!" an astonished cry resounded throughout the foyer. "What on earth are you fussing about this time?"

As soon as she spotted the familiar wrinkled visage, Frankie immediately started complaining, "Gwandma! Gwandma! Bunny's bein' nasty again, Gwandma! He's bein' nasty again!"

"Oh he is, is he?" Madame Foster sighed as she hobbled into the room. "Okay, now what-"

"Madame, I'm simply addressing an issue that I've been meaning to take care of for quite some time now." Her creation explained without a hint of remorse. "The fact that we barely see your granddaughter travel around the house on her own two feet any more is nothing less than-"

"My word, is that what's gotten your underwear in a knot? Mercy me, however shall we survive?" the old woman exclaimed dryly in mock horror before she gave her imaginary friend a gentle prod to the foot with her cane. "Oh please, so the child likes it when he gives her a piggy-back ride! There's nothing wrong with-"

"But there is probably something very wrong when he constantly does it for her without even a single word of protest." Mr. Herriman countered. "Madame, every time Miss Frances asks for him to heft her around like a mere beast of burden, Master Wilt automatically drops everything to immediately grant her-"

"All right, we get it, so she really likes to be carried." His creator groaned. "I'll just say it again, there's nothing wrong with-"

"Aren't you concerned at all about what might happen if we allow this behavior to continue unchecked?" Mr. Herriman implored. "I'm concerned that if Master Wilt won't start simply denying her every now and then, Miss Frances will become nothing less than spoiled rotten by the-"

"Nuh-uh!" Frankie squealed defiantly and made a face, earning her an immediate reproof.

"Don't you give me that tone, missy, I-"

"Have to be totally out of your gourd." Madame Foster finished as she swiftly concluded that she had heard more than enough already. "I'm taking her side."

"Excuse me?" Mr. Herriman exclaimed in genuine appall, and she just replied jokingly,

"You have to admit, she makes a pretty good argument, doesn't she?" she joked before nodding kindly to Wilt, who had been standing in the midst of the argument in anxious, self-imposed silence most of the time.

"It's all right dear." She said encouragingly with a reassuring smile. "No harm's been done; you can leave now, if you'd like."

"Uh…thank you." He replied gratefully, even though still quite puzzled over what all the fuss had been about. Nevertheless, he decided to toss in for good measure, "Sorry about all the trouble!"

With this he calmly strolled off, much to his passenger's delight as she erupted squeaking with joy while they exited the room. All the while, Mr. Herriman watched them take their leave before eliciting a light, despairing groan.

"Madame, really…must you conflict with me so?" he implored.

"Oh, really now, what was that all about?" she only laughed before hobbling over to hug his furry belly. "Honest, Bunny, you're acting like it's the end of the world here. I don't remember you turning into such a fussbudget whenever I wanted you to carry me around-"

"But you didn't make me do it everywhere, all the time." He countered. "I'm telling you, unless Master Wilt starts setting some boundaries for her-"

Oh, knock it off, will you?" she chortled. "She's just a child. Don't worry, Frankie will eventually grow out of it…"

"Aw…" The twenty-three-year-old couldn't help but coo playfully with a giggle after she had entered the foyer where an obviously drowsy little boy distinctively stumbled towards the main stairs. Without wasting a moment, she sauntered over to her dozy charge in a beeline.

"Uh-oh," Frankie teased. "Seems like someone's feeling a little sleepy, huh?"

Mac paused to turn around and nod wearily in reply as he gazed up at his guardian through sagging eyelids.

"Yeah," he managed to murmur around a gaping yawn. "I think I'm gonna go to-hey!"

In an instant, the redhead had effortlessly swept him up off his feet and just a moment later the child found himself cradled gently in her arms.

"Frankie, c'mon," Mac protested as he squirmed a little. "I'm not a baby, you don't need to carry me to…to…"

He was immediately proven wrong by the next heavy yawn that interrupted him in mid-sentence, much to Frankie's amusement as she broke out into a smirk.

"If you ask me, it looks like you're gonna doze off before you get halfway to your room." She joked before the boy's exhaustion seemed to spread like a contagious disease, for just a second later, she was joining in with a whopping yawn of her own. "C'mon, we're both wiped out. And seeing as we're both heading the same way…"

Fortunately there was no further need for her to try and convince her charge; he had long since given up the struggle and was now resting his head against her shoulder. With a warm grin, Frankie gave him a quick affectionate nuzzle then strolled over to the stairs. Rather than start to ascend them on her own, though, she immediately came to a stop the instant she heard the familiar squeak of basketball sneakers from not too far off. Patiently, she waited at the foot of the staircase until a familiar gangly figure ducked into the foyer.

"Hey Frankie, hey Mac." Wilt greeted politely with a smile. "You guys headed off to bed too-"

The second she spotted him, Frankie gazed straight into his good eye and blurted out, "Up!"

The instant he heard the childish request, the lanky figment ground to a halt and stared blankly at the eager girl, as if she were totally out of her mind. "Wait…I'm sorry, what?"

"Up!" Frankie repeated again with a toothy grin, to which surprisingly, the usually kind-hearted creature actually shook his head in disbelief.

He wasn't the only figment there stunned by the young woman's behavior. Having just barely emerged from his office unnoticed, a large imaginary rabbit froze dead in place, unable to believe his own eyes or ears. Soon though, his shock swiftly transformed into tremendous exasperation; goodness, would that girl honestly ever grow up and start acting her age?

"Frankie, I'm sorry, but you're twenty-three years old; you should know better by now." Wilt suddenly started lecturing in a somewhat stern tone literally before Mr. Herriman could scold Frankie for her unacceptable childishness. After getting over his initial surprise, Foster's Head of Business Affairs immediately burst out smiling in relief and stepped back a little to allow Wilt to continue the rebuking uninterrupted. "I'm sorry, but you seriously can't just-"

"Oh, that's right! Sorry!" the redhead quickly apologized, still cradling the dozy little boy in her arms before correcting herself, "Up, please!"

Like magic, Wilt broke out into his trademark grin, and without wasting a moment, he automatically swept both her and Mac up into his arm with ease.

"There we go!" He replied casually as he started to head upstairs. Not a prob-"

"Oh…mercy…"

As soon as she heard the appalled exclamation, Frankie glanced behind them to find Mr. Herriman, swimming in dismay as he gawked dumbly mutely in genuine dismay. Unable to figure out what was bothering the uptight figment for the life of her, the puzzled young woman simply demanded as Wilt cradled her out of sight, "What? What? I said please…"

The End