Disclaimer: I do not own Maximum Ride.

This is the Way We Fight
A Maximum Ride Fan Fiction

I.

In the life they led, quick wits were essential. It was spitfire words that were the most powerful and versatile weapon readily available – they could work you in and worm you out, change a captor's mind or keep it firmly on task. Most importantly, they were silver knives, used to attack. They could be used in many ways; some honed their skill with it over repeated use, others by laying it passive so that an attack would come as a surprise, abilities and technique kept a mystery.

That is why, as Max and Fang squared off, they were utterly matched.

II.

"Good day, Fang."

Her voice was cold. It reminded him of the still winter in England: rigid with the effort of repressing emotions, icy enough to kill and controlled with a death grip so tight that it seemed to suck away the very air. He'd never heard it that way before – he had heard it velvet-like, battle hardened, sharp…but never this blank, unforgiving, smooth wall. It was a peace offering of sorts, conveying to him that she was willing to make a mighty effort to be civil. It was also a challenge to which he responded.

"And to you, Max."

III.

"It's strange to see you here, of all places."

"I can say the same for you. What brings you to this humble high school?"

"Simple business. You?"

"One of our stationary members attends here. We're picking them up."

"I see. How convenient."

Max and Fang faced each other, her posture deceptively relaxed and his polite and unoffending. Their flocks stood behind them, obediently gazing on but daring not to test the waters. After last time, they didn't want to take any chances with the calm exchange of words.

After all, Nudge and Star still had scars from their previous encounter.

IV.

Soon, two girls arrived at the tense environment, the crisp sound of their polished, well-kept shoes hitting the floor digging the sharp fractures of the disabled conversation back down the throats of those involved.

"Err, Fang, I found her. I'm sorry it took a while."

He turned toward the speaker stiffly and gave a small, but warm, smile. "That's okay, Kate."

Max turned away sharply. It had been a long time since he had seen him smile, even longer since it had been directed at her. She knew that there was a strong chance that it never would again – she didn't expect it to, didn't really want it and certainly couldn't handle it. But she could barely squash the snaking thought that those two girls were so cute and pretty, more than she was, much more than she had ever been.

V.

Slowly, progressively, the two flocks passed by each other and headed on their way. On one hand, it felt to the individuals as if they were desperately escaping the presence of the other. At the same time, the atmosphere was acting as an elastic band binding them together.

But both leaders were exceptionally strong. It seemed to be barely a second before they were on opposite ends of the hallway.

"Wait, Fang. I said that we were here on business. It's something that you might want to tag along for. Perhaps you still care, but…I don't know."

VI.

Fang turned around and so did the mixed group of hybrids clinging to his presence like a cloud. Max was standing with her feet shoulder width apart and back straight, as if she were readying herself to face a great challenge or shoulder a large burden. However, she was facing him directly and her hands were loose at her sides. Though expressionless, her eyes displayed what he could decipher to be a confusing mixture of washed out stress, fear and fatigue.

"Just…" She held up her right hand in a half-hearted 'stop' gesture, a folded piece of paper with her scribbled handwriting on it in wedged between her index and middle fingers. With that, she spun back to her original path.

Her unfinished sentence hung in the air. Just don't test the peace.

VII.

"Nudge, you're unusually quiet this afternoon."

The mass of brown curls bobbed up and down, unable to convey that the thought of conversing in that atmosphere made her feel faintly sick. Nevertheless, she didn't want to let down the leader who walked proudly before her while her back was being set on fire by the gazes behind her.

"Max…about that paper…"

"Oh, you mean this?" When she looked up the much loved, well worn, printer sheet covered with Max's tell-tale scrawl that the girl had poured over for days on end was already shreds falling into the nearest bin.

"I wouldn't worry about something as trivial as that."

VIII.

The two groups stood uneasily close to each other outside a room bearing the label Hall 3. With a deep breath, Max lay her hand on the door handle. Dylan came forward and put a hand of comfort on the small of her back, evoking a snort from the party.

It was almost unhuman how fast her eyes locked venomously on its origin.

"I'm sorry, I thought that a proper leader wouldn't have the time for relationships at this time. I was also under the impression that you didn't have an interest in that guy."

The girl that the acidic comment sprung from was an unknown, someone who Max had never seen before. So it was with the polite, empty tone that a stranger explained a book to another stranger that she replied.

"Oh, I'm not interested in or involved with Dylan. You're right. A leader doesn't have the time for childish notions like that."

IX.

Inside the room, Fang was puzzled to find nothing but an after school class. The students ignored the newcomers to the far back and continued their work, except for one girl who glanced back quickly to reveal a face much too young to be in high school.

"Angel? Angel!"

He stepped forward, but was quickly stopped by Max's arm. They jumped back from each other as if they had been given electric shocks. The tense calm between them chipped with their simultaneous frowns.

"What?"

"She doesn't remember who she is, Fang."

"She's been missing for over six months!"

X.

Fang stepped forward again, only to promptly find himself pinned to the floor. Blonde streaked brown hair fell over to the side of his head, like a messy curtain.

"Look, I know this is hard for you, it is for all of us. But I'll be the only one here making stupid decisions, got it?"

Abruptly, Max was ripped off by someone who appeared to be a mirror image of herself. "I would suggest keeping the fighting to a minimum, guys."

"She started it!"

"I had the right. This expedition was my proposal, therefore under my authority."

"That's ridiculous!"

XI.

Max's hands balled up at her sides, knuckles soon turning white with the strain. "I tried Fang. I promised myself and my flock that if we ever met again I would keep my cool and I did my best, I really did. The reason I invited you to see this was out of courtesy but I really don't care if you see Angel as a sister or not anymore. She's part of my flock, always has been. You are in the way. So while I still have a little control over my temper, I have one last request. Get. Out. Now."

Fang was going to refuse. He could feel the words on his tongue, ready to leap off the tip of it. But when it came to Max, his brain and body never connected quite as they should.

"Let's go, guys."

What the leaders felt when they turned away from each other yet again was not victory or shame, neither anger nor hatred.

It was an emotion they had shared for a long time and couldn't escape, no matter their course of action.

It was an ocean of misery.

'Sup, people who have likely forgotten/hate me because I haven't been on FFN for over a year and I'm a slacker who doesn't live up to their declarations and is not proud of it (though I don't particularly care about not being on FFN. I'm not sorry.)

I'm back! Actually I'm not really back, I just have too many old (read: over a year old) un-posted stories on my USB and thought I should do something about this half-finished pile of less than worthless document.

I'm moving on, FFN, and growing out of you! *le gasp* Incidentally, that probably means that I'll still use this account somewhat until the message from the logical side of my brain saying that I don't need it anymore reaches the part of my brain that controls my actions/impulse control. Though that's been pulverised by the shiny internets already! Oh well.

You know what, don't even read this AN. It's full of irrelevant boring declarations that you don't even care about. Bit too late to be telling you that, though.

Also, congratulate me on not swearing this entire note. I've worked my way around it over three times already. Look at what I do for you underage readers, I'm that fabulous!

Yes, yes, and review too. I absolutely adore flamers, so much so that they're scared of my love and rarely reveal their presence to me. Be that brave flamer and let me give you my love!

/SHOT