Disclaimer: I don't own Maximum Ride. If I did, would I be on this site? I think not.

Maximum Martinez considered herself to be a girl of many talents. Some of these talents were useful, and others she could only use in the most bizarre of circumstances. For example, speaking Spanish, she could and did use that often. However, speaking Swahili? Yeah, she didn't use that so often. Which was probably a good thing, seeing as the last time she'd been down in Swaziland (possibly the only place that SPOKE Swahili) she had accidently told her tour guide to go screw a potato with a wristwatch when asking for the whereabouts of the bathroom. Needless to say, she was not welcome back in that tour area. However, one of the skills that Maximum Martinez most certainly did NOT possess was patience. If she didn't get what she wanted, right about the time she wanted it, she got rather testy.

Max had been on a plane ride from the Croatian International Airport to some Airport in London for a little over an hour. The plane ride itself hadn't been all that bad. However, she'd been waiting in the London International Airport for far longer than she wanted to be. She'd been forced to wait in the airport for a good seven hours; which was about six and a half hours longer than she ever wanted to spend in an airport, ever. While she wished she could go out and about and see the majesty of London, or at the very least meet a cute guy with a cuter accent, going out in in a strange city at 11:30 at night didn't quite seem like her best plan. So, Max was stuck in an airport at night.

She also happened to still be wearing her ringleader getup as she hadn't had time to take a shower before she left Croatia. And surprisingly two whole packs of WetOnes were insufficient when trying to remove makeup from one's face and dye from one's hair. She had been about twenty seconds from putting her head under the faucets in the bathroom when she had managed to get a hold of one of those little hotel rooms they offered for the night. Well, sort of. She kind of bribed the desk boy to let her use the staff showers so she could wash out the red hair dye and make up. It had felt amazing to get all that caked on crap off finally and Max was also very done with all the strange looks people had given her in the airport and on the plane. Even the desk boy had looked at her in a peculiar way. However, when she'd emerged from the shower room, fresh-faced and blonde hair, he'd all but drooled at the sight of her.

"Thanks," she'd drawled, passing over the agreed upon amount and going on her way. The desk guy had only been able to nod as he stared after her, jaw on the ground, and Max had to resist rolling her eyes and smacking the kid upside the head. It took a lot of will power that frankly she didn't know she had.

She made her way to the gate where her plane would be boarding in, say, five hours. She grabbed a chair next to one of the charging stations and hooked up her laptop. For the next several hours, she browsed the internet, mostly looking up stuff about her sister's life in Hollywood. Apparently, Maya had been busy. She'd filmed three movies, a television show, and an ungodly amount of commercials before that in the past four years. Max was shot with a pang of guilt for not having known any of this, but that guilt was quickly replaced with amusement. According to the tabloids, Max was either dead or was hated and despised by her sister. Both options amused her greatly. The last time she checked, she wasn't dead and though she and Maya had a somewhat dysfunctional relationship, they got along just fine. After she felt sufficiently caught up on all of the going-on's of her sister's very busy and very not private life, Max spent the next couple hours browsing Wikipedia.

When her laptop was finished charging and she now knew everything there was to know about the Soviet Union, Max slipped the laptop back in her backpack. She unfolded herself from the cramped seat that she'd been curled up in for that past several hours and stretched for a satisfying pop from her back. She checked the time and saw that it was about three in the morning and her plane was set to leave in about an hour, so boarding would probably start in like thirty minutes. Taking the last opportunity she would have for a long time to stretch her legs; Max went and got something to eat.

When she finally strolled back into the terminal, about half the plane had boarded already. Max sighed and got in line, sliding her ticket between her fingers, lost in thought. For some reason, she couldn't remember exactly why she'd agreed to go back. She hadn't been home in Los Angeles for four years. She hadn't spoken to either or her younger siblings for almost the entire time she'd been gone, communication with her mother had been spotty at best, and she'd only really started talking to Maya more than once a year in the past year. She hadn't kept in touch with any of her high school friends, but she hadn't really kept in touch with any of the people she'd met in her travels, either. Maybe she should just not go back. It's not like they could force her to. They wouldn't know that she had ditched her flight until it was too late and she could disappear in London. She had enough experience and they'd never be able to find her. She could find a temporary job, meet a cute guy, dump said cute guy, and maybe go spend some time in France, find some awesome job in France, maybe – "Ticket?"

Max's internal monologue was cut off by a far-too peppy flight attendant. "Ticket?" she asked again, her hand held out expectantly. Max looked at the piece of paper in her hand. The flight attendant waited not too patiently with a horrible forced smile on her face. The people behind her started getting antsy and a few started grumbling. "Miss, are you going on this flight?" the flight attendant asked again in a pushy fashion.

"Uh," Max drew the word out, trying to buy as much time as possible. She had spent so much time running away trying to find herself that somewhere along the way she'd forgotten what she was looking for. "Yeah. Yeah, I am. Sorry." Max handed her ticket over and took it back as soon as it was scanned.

She thanked the attendant, made her way onto the plane, and quickly found seat 34B. She smiled at the guy sitting next to the window which he returned with a rather disgusting glint in his eyes. Max plopped down in her seat with a groan and she felt the undeniable despair that this was going to be a LONG plane ride. When she saw the larger, rather sweaty man squeezing his way down the aisle, she knew, she KNEW, that he was sitting right next to her. When the man stopped and started to attempt to sit down she just nodded. Yup. A long flight indeed.

Sometime later, though not nearly long enough, Max was about ready to snap and brutally murder everyone within arm's reach of her. Being locked in a flying metal death trap did sort of do that to a person. Also being next to obnoxious people on a plane tended to make Max's already four mood even fouler.

The gluttonous pig on her right had made a grab for her various body parts three times now. The last time he'd made a move towards her, she'd buried her elbow in his stomach and slammed her foot into his shin. He'd made a rather strange, high-pitched sort of strangled noise and was now staying as far away from Max as he could physically get, his face smashed up against the window.

The man on her left, while stinky, sweaty, and far too close to Max for comfort, wasn't actually that bad. Although he could do with a nice deodorant stick or maybe soap, but Max wasn't going to be picky. At least he hadn't touched her or asked her for anything.

About two hours into the flight, Max's crippling claustrophobia kicked in. She felt as if the world was getting remarkably closer to her and there was a significant lack of oxygen, so she'd downed a couple of pills and was soon out like a light.

With about an hour and half left of the flight, Max had been rudely awakened from her medicine induced sleep. The perpetrator was an obnoxious little twerp kicking the back of her seat. It had now been going on for the past twenty minutes and it was taking all of Max's willpower not to reach behind her and start throttling the brat. Max was now completely reminded of why she hated little kids. This plane could not land soon enough.

Eventually, after going through the nerve-wracking experience that was landing, the exiting of the plane, and finally getting her suitcase, Max laughed victoriously as she stepped out into the muggy Los Angeles air. All around her were people shouting at each other, pushing past her, and trying to catch a taxi, waving their hands all around their heads. 'Tourists', Max thought with a snort.

She walked past a large stone pylon and was halfway to raising her hand to hail a taxi when suddenly, hands wrapped around her head. The hands clamped across her mouth and pulled her back behind the pylon with a muffled, "Oomph!" Max whirled around, her fists up and ready to knock the living shit out of whoever had dared laid their hands on her.

"Wait Max! Max, it's me," the voice sounded desperate and rather familiar. It took Max a moment to register what the voice was saying, and by then it was too late. She had already started and finished her punch with a quick snap of her hips, driving her fist into her poor assailant's stomach.

"Maya?" Max hissed in confusion. "What the hell are you doing here?"

"Picking you up you idiot," Maya wheezed. Max's punch had quite the force behind it and it took her breath away. She coughed a couple times and said, "Oh, that's going to bruise."

"Sorry," Max said apologetically and helped her sister straighten up, Maya still clutching her stomach. "Why are you dressed like that?" Max asked her sister curiously.

"There's no way I'm letting the paparazzi see me out and about. They'll swarm at me with questions. It's terrifying, let me tell you. I had to be secretive and sneaky," Maya explained, all while glancing covertly around. Max looked at her sister in disbelief. She had multiple scarves wrapped around her face and sunglasses covering her eyes.

"And you thought the best way to do that was to dress up like a mummy?" Max asked bluntly.

"Shush," Maya said creeping forward. She glanced around, and seeing no one, motioned Max forward. She started making hand signals that Max supposed were supposed to mean… something. Max rolled her eyes and walked forward. Maya scowled and said, "You're not even trying."

"Maya, I look exactly like you. If anyone sees me, they'll think I'm you," Max pointed out dramatically.

"Oh, right," Maya furrowed her brow. "Let's go and get you a disguise too." Max rolled her eyes as Maya took her by the hand and dragged her into the nearest clothes store, one of the tacky airport clothes stores that sold overpriced tourist gear. Two scarves, a pair of sunglasses, two horribly cheesy sweatshirts, and two Twix's later, Maya and Max walked out of the airport in matching face wrappings, sunglasses, and sweatshirts. They got more than a few odd looks, but neither particularly cared.

"You know this is exactly like when mom used to have us wear matching outfits when we were little kids," Max grumbled.

"Oh shut up," Maya said with a grin. Max snorted but grinned right along with her sister. When they were 'away from prying eyes', Maya allowed Max to take off the sweatshirt and unwrap the scarves and let her blonde-brown hair flow freely in the wind. She kept the sunglasses on though.

"So when do we have to go to this movie set of yours?" Max asked, shouting slightly to be heard above the wind blowing around the open-topped convertible that was careening down the highway.

"Tomorrow is going to be a filming day so we're going to have to be down at the set at seven in the morning," Maya said cautiously.

"Seven in the morning? Are you shitting me?" Max shouted. "What time am I going to have to get up?"

"Probably like five thirty," Maya said sheepishly, waiting with baited breath for her sister's outburst. She was not disappointed.

"WHAT DO YOU MEAN I HAVE TO GET UP AT FIVE IN THE FREAKING MORNING?" For the next fifteen minutes, Maya listened to her sister shout multiple obscene things at very impressive volumes. When Max finally finished, panting, Maya chuckled,

"That was impressive. Did you even breathe throughout all that?" Max scowled at her sister and said something that sounded rather rude. "What was that?"

"None of your business," Max snapped grouchily.

"Well what language was it in?"

"Spanish," Max finally answered.

"That didn't sound like any Spanish I've ever heard," Maya said skeptically.

"It's the Venezuelan dialect," Max informed her.

"When the hell did you go to Venezuela?" Maya asked in shock. As far as Maya knew, Max had spent most of her wandering time in Africa and Europe, not South America.

"I dated a Venezuelan tuba player for a week a couple years ago," Max said shortly. Maya shot her sister a look before shaking her head.

"I thought you swore off dating guys after that one kid you dated in the seventh grade 'broke your heart'," Maya said mockingly, making air quotes.

"Oh shut up," Max said with an accompanying eye roll. "What about the guy you dated your senior year of high school?"

"And what would you know about that?" Maya asked softly, knowing she was broaching a sensitive subject.

"Don't," Max said sharply. Maya shot her sister a look before clamping her mouth shut for the rest of the rather awkward car ride. Thankfully, the ride was over soon as they pulled up in front of a rather expensive looking apartment building. It had a fence and a guard booth and everything.

"Well, here we are," Maya said.

Max was quiet for a few moments before she finally said, "You're joking right? You live HERE?"

"Yeah, why?" Maya asked in confusion. She pulled into the special parking garage for residents only.

"It looks like the fanciest you could buy," Max sputtered.

"It's not. Trust me," Maya said smugly. Max rolled her eyes and got out of the car after Maya had parked. She followed Maya up the elevator to Floor 9.

"So you have the whole floor to yourself?" Max asked in awe.

"Sort of," Maya explained as she unlocked the front door and pushed it open with her hip. "I'm letting a few guys from set crash in my spare rooms until the movie is over. They're going to be out late so you'll meet them tomorrow."

"Damn," Max drawled. "This is nice!" And indeed it was. The apartment was tastefully decorated yet everything looked quite lived in and comfortable. It wasn't at all what one would expect from a successful movie actress, but then again Maya wasn't quite a normal movie actress. Max liked to think that her sister was slightly more grounded than the rest of the Hollywood personnel.

"You can have the room next to mine, I'll kick Nick out of it when he gets back tomorrow morning," Maya said as she hung her keys up on a hook and tossed her purse on the kitchen counter before going and rooting through the fridge. "Down the hall, third door on the left."

"Thanks," Max smiled gratefully at her sister and made her way down the hall, dragging her suitcase behind her. When she got to the bedroom, she hefted her suitcase on the slightly rumpled bed and pulled off her boots and tossed them in the closet that was already full of mostly black clothes. She didn't bother unpacking; it was far too much effort.

When she walked back into the living room, she saw Maya on the phone. "Yup. I'll be there tonight. Six thirty. Yup. Everyone will be there, right? Good. Uh huh. I know. Uh huh. Okay, bye," Maya hung up the phone and spun around to see her sister at the kitchen table staring at her with a quirked eyebrow.

"Got a hot date?" Max waggled her eyebrows for emphasis.

"Not really," Maya said evasively. "But I am going out tonight. And you're coming with me."

"Where are we going?" Max asked curiously. Maya muttered something that Max couldn't quite make out. "Could you repeat that?" Max asked. Maya mumbled again. "What?" More mumbling. "Maya!" Max shouted.

"We're going to dinner with mom!" Maya blurted and ducked under the kitchen island.

"We're what?" Max sputtered in shock.

"Surprise?" Maya offered weakly. Max's only response was to groan, sink down in her chair, and hit her head on the table softly.

Well, that's about it. But I do have a couple questions to all of you.

#1. This doesn't really seem to me like an 'adventure' fanfiction, but I'm not sure what to classify it as. I was thinking family/humor. Do you think that this is funny enough to be humor? I personally dislike it when people tell me their story is going to be funny and it isn't at all. Thoughts?

#2. What do you guys think is a good updating time? The chapters aren't particularly long, I like to keep them at around 3,000 words (any less and I feel like I'm cheating people out), but I could make them shorter and update faster. Which would you prefer?

Answer in the review section or PM me.

And as always, if you see any mistakes or have any questions, let me know.

And now I leave you all with a fun fact. They sell toupees for dogs in Tokyo.

See you later!