"Max?" the hesitant knock made her jump. Next to her, she could feel Dylan silently shaking with laughter. She glared at him.

"Yeah?" she called breathlessly, leaping off the bed and pulling her shirt down in the same motion. Dylan was still laughing.

Angel opened the door. "Iggy says dinner's ready," she said, blushing. Max blushed too, thinking of what she must've heard in her's and Dylan's mind a minute before.

"Tell him we'll be right down." Angel shut the door.

Dylan's arms wrapped around her waist and pulled her closer. "Are you really hungry?" he murmured in her ear.

"Actually, I am," she replied softly, twisting around and kissing him. It was strange. While kissing Fang had felt wild and dangerous, kissing Dylan felt so…right. After Fang had left, she had locked herself in her room for days on end, refusing to come out or even talk to anyone through the door. Then one day Dylan had barged in without bothering to ask if he could, sat down beside her, took her hand in his, and told her that he hated to see her like this.

It was then that she realized she loved him.

And here they were, five months later. Being with him made Max feel complete, his gentle kisses and touches steadily filling the void in her that Fang had left. He's your perfect match. She realized that the Voice had been right all along. "Come on," she laughed, pulling away and grabbing his hand. "They're waiting."

Downstairs it was the usual chaos. Angel and Gazzy were arguing…loudly. Nudge was screaming at them to shut up so they could eat already. Iggy was leaning against the stove, shaking his head.

"Hey, HEY!" Max yelled. "GUYS!"

The immediate silence was oddly eerie. "What's going on?" she demanded.

"They won't shut up!" Nudge whined.

"Angel took my gunpowder!" Gazzy accused, glaring at his sister.

"Did not!" she protested. "You left it somewhere."

Max shook her head. "Okay, Gazzy, we'll help you find your gunpowder after we eat," she promised. "Just stop yelling. Same goes for you, Angel. And Nudge, your screaming isn't helping, either. Now let's just have a nice, peaceful dinner without any screaming, okay?" The kids grumbled. "Good. What are we having, anyway, Ig?"

"Spaghetti," he replied promptly.

"Yum." Dylan sat down. Max followed, silently praying that nothing would go wrong.

The last thing she needed was to clean tomatoes off the walls.

"Sir?" the redhead poked her head through the door.

"Yes?" the whitecoat replied.

"The Experiments are ready."

"Very well."

He followed her down a winding maze of tunnels. Finally they reached a room with five huge vats lining the walls. The man walked to the closest one.

Suspended in the green-ish liquid was a teenage girl, maybe fourteen or fifteen years old. Her long white-gold hair billowed around her, her fair skin glowed in the faint light. Her pretty face was blank, turned slightly upward. The wings protruding from her back were pale blue, marked with the white and black stripes of a blue jay. The scientist nodded approvingly.

In the next vat was also a teenage girl. Her ebony hair was cut choppily around her face. This girl was slightly more darker-skinned than the first, though just as pretty in her way. Her own wings were gray-black, marked with the small gold, green, and dark blue stripes of a starling. The whitecoat nodded.

The next vat contained another person, slightly younger than the first two, a boy this time. His skin was dark, his black hair cut close to his skull. His wings were a million shades of brown, those of an eagle owl. Again the whitecoat nodded.

In the next tank was another girl, maybe eight or nine years old. Her skin was the color of snow, marred only by the slight splash of freckles across her nose and cheeks. She was curled in on herself, almost as if she was trying to protect herself, on her innocent face a frown. Her coppor hair swirled around her shoulders. The wings that sprouted from her back were pure red, the wings of a cardinal. The whitecoat nodded again.

In the last tank was a boy, younger than the others, six or seven years old. His skin was beige-colored, his hair dark brown. His wings were marked with the bright blue, red, green and golden stripes of a macaw. The whitecoat turned to the woman who had followed him in.

"They are ready?"

"Yes, sir."

"Very well." The man strode over to a small key board built into the wall. He pressed one of the buttons, a small smile on his face. With a loud beeping sound, the green liquid the winged children were suspended in began to drain away.

One by one, the Experiments opened their eyes.