There's been an increasing number of demands from me for a "romantic scene". As previously stated in newest crossover, "I could probably write a better love story between a bar of soap and a shoe." (end quote).

I meant it. Quite literally.

Now, I pumped my brain for some Fax action, and well…

I got the equivalent of three rusty nails and an old left shoe. Oh, and one of those two dollar coins that you could've sworn were there a second ago.

Yeah. Jack shit, in other words. (Who, FWI, was married to Noe shit)

But, then this wonderful 600-word splurge fell out my mouth…

And, well, read for yourselves. It can be taken anyway, really. Just imagine;

-Fang.

-Max.

-Skimpy pajamas.

Well, your imagination can supply the rest. =3

This is more me flexing my (non-existent) romance-writing muscles than anything that I've stamped 'readable'.

No, there's no kissing. Maybe, maybe- I might be able to pump out more after a couple of practise one-shots like this. Hey, I could write a series! =]

So I tried to dowse it in humour. Let me know if it worked.

Author fact #87197:

"If it sucks, and stinks suspiciously like crap, smother it in lame wise-cracks and pointless humour! Maybe, you'll fool some morons."

Some days, I just want to punch the lights out of my alarm clocks.

"Maa-ax!" Gazzy screamed in my ear, which was thankfully already covered by my pillow.

"C'mon Max..." Nudge whined, trying to tug the blanket out of my fists.

"Max? Please, Max, please get up?" Angel's pleading voice reached me from the foot of the bed. No doubt she had Bambi eyes written all over her face.

Must not look... must not look... must not look!

I peeked over the edge of the covers, looking into three sets of Bambi eyes.

"Aw, crap." I was staring the youngest members of my flock down, trying to resist the urge to give in my warm, cosy bed and soft sheets. But just as I was about to break their spell and dive back under the covers, something yanked my sheets from my hands.

"ARGH!" I screamed, and the other three squealed. I looked up from my now freezing spot on the bed. I had on a fierce expression, and a scowl that deepened when I saw who the blanket-snatching culprit was. Fang just smirked cockily from the end of my bed, my blankets wrapped around his hands.

".Pay!" I launched myself across the bed, tackling Fang to the floor. He tried to kick me off, but I held onto his fore-arms and tried tugging my sheets and doona out of his snatchy little fingers. Growls came from my throat as we rolled all over the floor, with the flock (minus one) in the back ground, cheering us on.

Gazzy POV-

Max had her feet under Fang's Jaw, and both hands trying to tug away her beat-up sheets. He flipped them both so he was straddling her, holding the balled-up doona high above his head. Max wriggled and twisted under Fang's weight, but he had her pinned to the floor. Both were panting mildly, with their hair all messed up and their clothes twisted up. Fang's shirt was almost over his head, and Max's PJs now had a rip across the top. There was a lot of grunting and groaning from Max as she tried to get away. Fang just smiled smugly, leaned down and whispered,

"Give up yet?" Max growled her response.

"Never."

Max got her arms free and attempted to push Fang off. He grunted and grabbed her arms again- pinning them down with him leaning over her face, hair dangling and mussed.

Iggy suddenly entered the room, yawning in his PJs.

"Do you dudes want me to make some food? I've got enough to make-" he paused, hearing our cheers and Max and Fang's groans of effort.

"Okay, what the hell is Max and Fang doing, and why are you watching?!" he freaked, covering his ears.

…Huh? I glanced over at the other two, seeing we all had mirroring expressions. Meanwhile, Fang and Max continued to fight for... oh yeah, what started it again?

Now they were circling each other, bodies low. Angel sent a picture to Iggy of the fight, and what had happened before.

"EWWWW! NASTY! Guys, don't do that with these guys watching!" Nudge and Angel and I looked at Iggy, confused.

Angel's face screwed up as she read his mind.

"Oh, I get it now. Iggy thinks they're making babies!" she said happily, as a dead silence was heard.

"WHAT?!" Max and Fang bellowed in unison, followed by a huge ripping sound as Max's doona tared down the middle, throwing feathers everywhere.

"IGGY, YOU'RE GONNA DIE!"

And that, kids, is the story of how Uncle Iggy swore he met Jesus.