a/n: happy valentine's day, you all! c: i send out hugs and kisses to all of you! xox and what better way to celebrate than with a boat load of pointless fluff, eh? ;) sorry if anyone seems ooc, i tried my best to keep them in character. feedback of any kind would be great. :)

dedicated to: the flawless melanie because she's amazing. thanks so much for the prompts: hot chocolate, butterflies, and peppermint. love you, twinsie.

diclaimer: max, fang, and other randomly stated characters belong to james patterson.

note: this is set sometime after nevermore, though it contains no spoilers. (p.s. in max's redhead rant, it's lissa and bridgid she's talking about, haha.)

I hate people.

Okay, hate's a strong word.

I strongly dislike people.

And occasionally want to stab them. Repetitively.

"I'm really starting to get sick of redheads." I grumble, jaw clenching and unclenching uncomfortably. My breath comes in visible puffs, and swirls slightly around the air before disappearing. The sheets of snow overtop the ground crunches beneath my boots, shattering the eerie silence that comes with being outside in the dead of winter. Stupid cold. I ha– I strongly dislike you.

A throaty chuckle comes from beside me. "Jealous, are we?"

I scoff loudly, rolling my eyes. "Of course not. I just think you have an obnoxious tendency to flirt with gingers."

"I do not have a tendency to flirt with gingers."

"Oh, yeah?" I counter as a smug smirk plays across my lips. "Well, what about the Red-Haired Wonder, or the Pedophile, and that desperate waitress from five minutes ago…? Need I go on?"

Fang throws his head back in laughter and I can't help but smile. "Why do you feel the need to nickname everyone who's taken a liking to me?"

"It's a gift." I shrug, hastily hiding the heat that rises to my cheeks at his accusation. "Wouldn't you agree, Fnick?"

He laughs and it's warm sounding and makes butterflies that I didn't know existed waltz around my stomach. Alright, I've really got to stop with the mushy thoughts. If Angel catches me, I'll never hear the end of it. And it's grossing me out. Maximum Ride does not get butterflies in her friggin' stomach.

Grinning, Fang continues, "At least I got us the hot chocolate for free; I doubt even the great Maximum Ride can do that."

"Do what? Flirt mercilessly with a poor girl in exchange for free food? Yeah, I'm sure it was such a challenge." I mutter, trying to sound sarcastic. It's rather hard to be mad at him when he's so happy. Damn my emotions, they're always getting the best of me.

I glance down at my hands, where the mug of steaming cocoa rests. It smells, not only like chocolate, but of peppermint as well. Lifting it to my lips, I sip gingerly and wince at the high temperature. But it is able to warm me slightly, so I don't complain.

He gives me a pointed look. "Are you upset with my incredible flirting skills, or because you didn't get the chocolate chip cookie on display?"

I think for a minute, before returning his gaze. "Both."

God, there's that laugh again. I'm pretty sure he's doing this on purpose. He's trying to drive me insane.

We lapse into silence as we walk. The frigid winds nip playfully at my exposed skin, carrying locks of my hair around my shoulders. My reddened cheeks and nose are tell-tale signs that the chilly air has made its mark.

"Well, it's a good thing I got it for you, then," he says casually.

My head snaps up and a brow is raised. "What?"

Fang smiles crookedly and pulls a small bundle of napkin out of his jacket. "I said," he drawls mockingly, "it's a good thing I got it for you, then."

"Really?" I gasp, my eyes lighting up against my will. Damn my love for chocolate chip cookies. He nods and hands over the bundle. I carefully unwrap the napkin to reveal a small and round and heavenly cookie. If possible, my grin widens even further as the chocolaty scent wafts into my nose.

Mmmmmm, it's still warm.

I lift the cookie to my lips and slowly sink my teeth into the gooey chocolate chips. Maybe it isn't as good as Mom's homemade ones, but I have to say, it takes a close second. "Mmmm," I mumble, mouth full. "Thanks, Fang."

"No problem," he replies, then adds, "Happy Valentine's day, Max."

I choke on my mouth full of gooey goodness, spraying my hand with bits of cookie crumbs. Well, that's attractive, I think, wincing. But I don't have much time to worry about it, as my loud coughs interrupt my thoughts. Fang's hand comes down to pat my back in a reassuring, comforting manner.

"You alright, Max?" he asks, and I can practically hear him smirking above me. "Did I catch you off-guard? You know I must admit, I never thought I'd see the day."

He's mocking me. Right after I almost died. Eating the cookie he gave me. And it's Valentine's Day.

I really need to stop exaggerating my words.

"Ha-ha, very funny." I tell him, though no sense of humor can be found in my voice. My throat is still scratchy and hurts quite a bit. Who would've thought the very reason for my existence could harm me? (I'm referring to the cookie, if you didn't catch that.) Shaking my head, I glance up at him again. "Is it really Valentine's Day?"

Fang laughs and his head drops into a nod. "Yup," he says, popping the 'p'.

"Wow," I breathe, pursing my lips. "We should probably get the others something, don't ya think?"

He shrugs, stuffing his hands into his pockets and hunching his shoulders. Even slouching, he's much taller than I. When he doesn't say anymore, I take another bite, finishing off the cookie, and then chase it down with a savory sip of my hot chocolate.

We fall into silence once again; the sound of snow crunching under my boots and the whistling of wind throughout the seemingly abandoned town is all that can be heard. The streetlights are just beginning to come to life, meaning the sun is setting in the distance, slowly disappearing beyond the trees. Reds and oranges and purples and pink fill the sky, and the clouds look like cotton-candy if you squint.

And then Fang's in front of me, blocking my path before I can even blink. I jump at the sudden proximity between us, and a bit of my cocoa splashes onto the ground. Parting my lips, my wide eyes find his dark ones and… those damn butterflies are back. "Fang?" I say nervously.

"Max."

"Fang, what are you…?" I'm silenced by a single glance.

"Max," he repeats, gentler this time.

The butterflies are dancing – no, cartwheeling, now. My heartbeat increases in a rapid manner and my throat feels oddly dry. "Yes?" I croak.

His warm breath cascades over my face, mingling with my own – that's how close he is. I hear a sudden clatter when his empty mug drops to the ground, but he doesn't make any move to say anything. His fingers ghost over my waist, my torso, and my shoulders, all of which sends shivers up my spine. Finally, his hands find my face and he presses his palms lightly to my cheeks.

"Don't… don't move, alright?" whispers Fang, and I can't do anything but nod. His hands move to my shoulders, and leans his head forward. I gasp lightly when his hair brushes my cheek – it's surprisingly soft. Suddenly, warmth spreads across my throat as he presses his lips to the underside of my jaw. Given my reaction, he continues peppering kisses along my neck and shoulders, and then leisurely moves his lips to my cheeks.

"Is this okay?" he murmurs against my skin.

"Yeah," I sigh. "Most definitely."

"Good." In an instant, his lips are crashing down upon mine. The mug of hot chocolate slips through my fingers and clangs to the ground, splattering my boots in cocoa. My hands fly to his soft hair, winding my fingers in the raven black strands, while he tenderly massages my hips with his thumbs. He tastes of hot chocolate and peppermint, and the butterflies are roaring in my belly.

I'm kissing Fang. Oh my God, I'm kissing Fang.

His fingers tangle in my curls, pulling away when the need for oxygen becomes an issue. Pressing his forehead to my own, he smirks – smirks. But it's alright, because I smirk right back at him. "Happy Valentine's Day, Max."

I laugh in spite of myself. "Happy Valentine's Day, Fang."

It was quiet for a moment, both of us utterly content in each other's presence, before, "Dammit, we don't have any hot chocolate left."

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