Authors Note: This is a random idea I came up with, and I decided to write it out to see what it would become. Of course the next step is always posting on FanFiction ;)
Anyway, this'll take place after the fifth book . . . you know, before JP introduces all that CRAP in the sixth :(
Disclaimer: I don't own! Plain and simple . . . (AKA, I totally wouldn't have written FANG that way!)
On to the Oneshot . . .
I can honestly say we were totally minding our own business. I mean, us bird-kids, we don't like to draw unnecessary attention to ourselves. Sometimes though, it's inevitable. You try walking into a McDonald's sporting the latest in Torn & Bloody fashion, then ordering enough food for three people . . . each, on top of that. When you see a six year old wolf down three Big Macs, four orders of fries, two of those Apple Pie things and three large Cokes . . . well, you might just think you've seen it all. It's not like we really blame you for staring either . . . but it gets annoying sometimes, especially with our way of life. Covert Ops and the like.
Then again, it might have been the whole 'knocking the red-headed cashier out for making google-eyes at Fang' thing . . .
"You're cute when you're jealous," Fang smirked afterwards as we settled ourselves at one of the picnic tables in the park since, you know, we got kicked out of McDonald's. Even I prided myself for not stooping as low as that, but now . . .
Well, apparently they don't take too kindly to people who send one of their staff members to the hospital for a possible broken nose (I didn't even hit her that hard!). Heck, they even sent the manager over to 'escort' us out.
. . . So I punched him too.
"Jealous?" I scoffed. "I don't know the meaning of this 'jealous' you speak of."
"Jealous," Fang stated, getting all knowledgeable and proper, as if he was just waiting for this moment to show off his superior intellect . . . Uh, yeah right! "Feeling resentment against someone because of that person's rivalry, success, or advantages."
"You looked that up just for a moment like this, didn't you?" I asked, narrowing my eyes suspiciously.
"Don't flatter yourself," he replied offhandedly, lounging back casually so his back was pressed up against a nearby tree.
"Still. I wasn't jealous of that . . . thing. That Oompa Loompa colored, clown face painted, two buttons too low wearing thing," I insisted heatedly, slamming my fist against the table for emphasis.
"Max, you made her cry."
"So? What does her being a major wimp have to do with me being jealous? It's not my fault she can't take a punch."
"Very mature."
I pursed my lips and sent him a defiant death glare, flipping him the bird before returning my attention elsewhere. No need to give him any more satisfaction, because I guarantee two more seconds gazing into those dark, fathomless eyes and I would be completely tongue-tied. Darn him and his intense stare.
He narrowed his eyes while giving me a glare of his own, but I could see the mirth swimming in those twin midnight pools. He was making fun of me. Yeah, well two can play at that game.
I stealthily glanced around the immediate area, scoping out any possible victi- I mean people. I didn't catch sight of anyone that would fit my purpose though. There were only a handful of little kids screaming and yelling as they romped around the play set, their mothers watching on from a safe distance, hands wandering to their stash of bandages every few seconds when a child took a particularly nasty dive to the ground.
Then from the parking lot a group of teenagers, loud and raucous, came. On closer inspection I determined that there wasn't a female among them, just four boys bumping into and jostling each other playfully. I continued to stare when one of them finally caught sight of me, nudging the boy beside him as soon as he did. After that they began drifting closer, daring to occupy a table only a few away from ours. Their laughter became more proclaimed, obviously trying to keep my attention.
After a few minutes one of the guys who appeared to be about the same age as me with dirty blonde hair and striking green eyes stole a quick glance my way, and ascertaining that my full attention was on him, he cracked a cocky smile, waving lazily.
I felt rather than saw Fang tense up beside me, and I couldn't help the triumphant smile from spreading across my face. He was falling into my trap quite nicely. Still, to further ensure his rage, I gave Green Eyes a little wave of my own, winking flirtatiously (which meant he probably thought my eye was having a muscle spasm, because there wasn't a bone in my body that allowed me to flirt successfully).
"Did you just wink?" Fang asked incredulously.
"Why?" I inquired innocently. "Are you jealous?"
A look of comprehension dawned, and he replied, "I see what you're doing."
"I wasn't aware that I was doing anything."
"Go on ahead and try Max, but I'm not going to get jealous. Trust me. I think I have a little more self control than that. Much more than you."
Oh, he was so going to get it.
"Good," I replied truthfully, coming to my feet at the same time.
Fang raised an eyebrow in silent question, but I just smiled and shrugged; the perfect picture of innocence . . . not!
Slowly I turned away, strutting confidently forwards. Green Eyes saw me coming first, and he didn't try to hide the way he bumped his friends shoulder, motioning in my direction. As it would turn out, when I came closer, all four of them were looking up at me.
Thank God I had taken the time to make the flock change their clothes and wash up a bit in the bathroom at Walmart after the McDonald's incident, or else I had the acute feeling that these snooty rich kid like boys would do nothing but turn their prissy noses up at me. Though that might be more from the putrid stench than my over all appearance in society.
"Hey," Green Eyes called out when I neared, standing to meet me.
"Hey yourself," I replied airily, coming to a halt while smiling coyly. Man! When did I freaking learn this stuff? With horror I realized it was probably my girly instincts kicking into overdrive, making up for fourteen years of hardcore, rough and tumble tom-boy actions.
"I haven't seen you around before," Green Eyes intoned, sticking his hands in his front pockets.
"We're just passing through," I replied, which wasn't totally a lie.
"Oh? Where are you headed?" he asked curiously.
"Uhh . . ." I muttered like the genius I am. "Arizona."
"Pretty far from here," he commented, and I remembered suddenly that we were somewhere in Ohio.
"Yeah, but we're used to it. Traveling around, I mean." Once again, not a complete lie.
"You're lucky then. I've never been farther than the state capital, and that was for a school trip. Just call me Riley, small-town boy," he joked.
"Well you can call me Max, world traveler."
"Max. I like it. It suits you . . . and who's your shadow?"
I glanced over my shoulder to see Fang purposefully striding over, his face grim and determined. I knew he couldn't resist.
"Oh him? He's nobody," I say quickly.
"Nobody? Are you sure? Because he looks pretty pissed to me."
"He's always like that," I insist. "You know, hostile and stuff. He's really not bad once you get to know him."
"I think I'll pass."
"That might be a smart decision," I replied, surprising myself by laughing.
"Making friends Max?" Fang muttered when he approached, standing at my side defensively.
"Yes actually, I am. It's a very wholesome, well rounded thing to do. This is Riley," I introduced, smirking profusely at the way Fang clenched his fists at the sound of his name.
He growled something under his breath, but I just ignored him, turning back to Riley and saying, "What is there that's fun to do around here?" I didn't actually care, but I had to make conversation.
"Not much really. I'm afraid you've found yourself in an extremely boring town . . . There is, however, one place that I can think of. A resteraunt on the river. It's kind of a fancy, date place though. Not that I'd object much to taking such a pretty girl, if you'd like to join me for dinner?" Riley proposed sweetly, brushing a strand of hair from my forehead with the barest whisper of a touch.
And that's what put Fang over the edge.
He made this low, guttural sound in the back of his throat. His eyes narrowed murderously and he took a menacing step forwards, knocking Riley's hand from my face. In a measured, though hostile, tone he snarled, "I'd appreciate it if you didn't hit on my girlfriend."
Okay, I admit that Fang calling me his girlfriend sent little trills up my spine. I mean, I guess we were kind of together now, but still. It wasn't like we talked about it a lot, and I don't think I've ever heard him call me his girlfriend. Before I might have considered it just a label, but at the same time it was kind of . . . nice.
"Girlfriend?" Riley exclaimed in surprise.
"I knew it!" I cried triumphantly. "I knew you would get jealous."
"I was not jealous," Fang insisted, rounding on me.
"Yeah, right." I rolled my eyes.
"At least I didn't hit him," Fang muttered like he had been insulted.
"Yet."
"Touche," he murmured, placing a hand on my waist while reeling me closer. Our lips were about to meet when I heard an exclamation from a few yards away, where the flock had been munching down on their leftover lunch.
"Oh no!" Angel screamed, and then she said something too quietly for me to hear. Simultaneously four pairs of bird-kid eyes turned to stare at us, and I knew that it wasn't me and Fang that was creating a spectacle.
It was at that moment that Riley muttered, "I don't need you anyway! Dumb blonde . . ."
Oh no he didn't.
With exaggerated slowness I turned, and Fang mirrored my actions. With a few measured breaths to try (and ultimately fail) to calm myself, I said in what I hoped was an indifferent voice; "Excuse me?"
"I-" he began, but in the end he never got the chance to finish, for at that moment a fist went hurtling towards his pretty little face. Knuckle connected with his nose, and I heard the sickly sound of bone crunching.
When I looked over I saw that Fang's fist too, was raised, but it wasn't his that had caused such damage. No, the hand that had wounded this pompous fool was connected to an arm that was . . .
Mine.
"Now who's the dumb blonde?"
Authors Note: What do you think? You should tell me in a REVIEW! I know the other flock members weren't in this much . . . but you know, Max kicked a guys butt, so I think it's even ;) And it's sorta' Fax-y too, right?
Whelp, review, review, review, review, REVIEW! (Please?)
