AHHH!! DON'T KILL ME!! I'M SORRY!!!

I know I haven't been updating lately, and I'm making an excuse right now: I have writers' block. I have NO idea what's gonna happen next, so be prepared to wait even LONGER for the next chapter. Unless y'all can give me ideas :)

Fang: Yeah, Princess isn't so good at dealing with writers' block.

Me: ARGH!!! I CAN'T THINK OF WHAT TO WRITE NEXT!!! NOOOOO!!!!

Fang: So, you guys might want to give her ideas....

Me: STUPID BRAIN!! IT'S BEING A BUTT!!! GRRR!!!

Fang: .... Before she hurts something or someone.

Me: FANGGGG! I CAN'T THINK OF ANYTHING!!!! -sobs-

Fang: Like me for example!

Me: Fang, what am I gonna do about the next chapter?! I can't think of anything?!

Fang: Shhh, well maybe the nice reviewers will give you some ideas. -pets hair-

Me: -does a happy dance-


Max POV:

I glared at Fang. "No! You are NOT making me do this!"

Fang glared back at me. "Well, I'm not wearing any of that crap. I'm a guy, remember?"

My gaze didn't move an inch. "It. Doesn't. Matter. Do you think I would wear this crap just because I'm a girl?" I lowered my voice even further, trying to sound intimidating. But, of course, for all I knew, a talking slug would probably freak Fang out more than I did.

Just as I thought, he didn't even flinch. In fact, probably to spite me, he smirked one of his annoying I-know-more-than-you smirks. "Yes, but the thing is, it's more normal for girls to wear a bikini than a guy. I'm pretty sure if I walked around wearing one, the mall cops would flip." He smirked, yet again, and handed me the bag.

"The fitting and changing rooms are over there," Fang pointed to the small, dingy restrooms. I glared at him briefly before turning and stalking to the changing rooms.

"Fine, but you'd better wear at least part of it." I growled. I swear, I'd never seen Fang laugh so much in his life as now, with me in Victoria's Secret. It was either the store's drunken mood was getting to him or he just loved to torture me without the rest of the Flock's interference. I was willing to bet it was the latter.

"Sure, Alex, whatever you say. Only because you love me thiiiiiiis much." He chuckled again, and I was about ready to go out there in my underwear thing and slap him from here to next Tuesday. I took a deep breath and held back a growl.

"Fang, if you don't shut up, I swear I will do. . . something to you," I snarled.

Fang hissed. "Alex, my name is Nick. Just shut up and put your clothes on okay." I hadn't realized that I had called Fang by his real name until he'd pointed it out. I dressed in silence. Knowing Fang, he would probably be extremely mad at me, as I would if he'd done the same.

I walked outside, ready to apologize, but the grim look simply melted off of Fang's face as he looked at me. He doubled over, clutching his stomach.

"You know what, just shut up, okay? Just shut up," I moaned. It was bad enough that I had to parade through the mall dressed like a nutcase (Jeez, wouldn't Mildred be so proud?) but having my best friend laugh at me for that was just crap. And, of course, Fang, not understanding any of this, kept laughing.

"I would get my butt off the floor and into the men's changing room if I were you, because we want to get back first and you're going to have to wear some of these 'articles of not-so-modest clothing," I said through clenched teeth.

"First… let me… buy… a disposable camera. I've got to take… a picture… of this," Fang wheezed. I turned to look in the mirror; even though I hadn't checked in a mirror, I hadn't thought I had looked that bad.

The reflection in the full length sheet of glass and chrome was not of me. True, the tall, lean figure was one of my likes—the chocolate eyes, the ragged, home-cut hair, the bruises and cuts from God knows which battle, and the long, slender limbs—but it was also nothing like me. Mascara outlined her dark brown eyelashes, glittery lip gloss slathered her lips, dark eyeliner shaped her eyes, and that was just the beginning. The transparent, flimsy lingerie (appropriately named 'Baby Doll') did nothing to cover the lack of clothing provided by the bikini. The dark, shiny fabric of the bikini shone right through the creamy lace of the lingerie. The pencil-thin heels wobbled dangerously, as though the girl didn't know how to walk in them.

"Does it really look that bad?" I mumbled to myself, lowering my eyes to the floor. Now—don't get me wrong—I'm not a self-conscious person at all. I mean, I've walked around downtown New York in a bloody t-shirt and torn jeans without giving a fig. But, this was completely different. The whole flock, my mom and half-sister, and a bunch of random people I didn't even know would see this side of me—a side that I didn't even know existed until I looked in the mirror.

Suddenly, there was a hand on my shoulder—a tanned, calloused, olive-skinned hand, a familiar one. I turned, expected Fang to be chuckling at the very sight of me, but there he was, holding the bag of our purchases in his free hand. He gave me a half smile that, surprisingly, wasn't mocking.

"Well, don't worry. 'Cause I'll be right there beside you. I've always got your back, Max," he whispered. His hand slide down my arm, and he grasped my hand briefly, rubbing soothing circles on the back of my palm. I think, for those few seconds, I couldn't remember how to breathe or think. It was like warmth and comfort was flowing out of Fang, except that was ridiculous, because Fang never showed outward warmth.

I blinked. "Wait, what?"

But, naturally, Fang wasn't there. Maybe he was moving faster or maybe I had just completely zoned out, but by the time the question was out of my mouth, Fang was in the changing room. I shook my head, trying to clear it.

"Nick!" I yelled, moving closer to his changing stall. The rustling fabric muffled his response slightly.

"You don't have to yell. I'm right here," he answered through gritted teeth. It sounded like he was having a tough time with the clothes. I smirked at the thought.

"Look, Dr. M will be worried if we take too long. She'll probably think the store ate us or something. Either way, I'm gonna go back and tell them what we've gotten done. Join me there, 'kay?" I asked. I rummaged through our Victoria's Secret shopping bag and pulled out Fang's baseball cap.

"And I'm taking your hat!" I told him, already walking away. People stared as I walked by them, but I didn't pay attention. Lost in thought, I think I walked around in circles for a while, but, naturally, I wasn't paying attention.

Did I like Fang as a brother? Yes. Did I like Fang as a best friend? Yes. Did I like Fang as a boyfriend? Say, about three years ago, the answer would have been a 'hell NO!' but now I wasn't so sure. I guess you could say being in near death experiences every three minutes really helps you bond with your best friends, but I wasn't too sure of how deep I wanted this bonding to go.

I turned again, only to find myself face-to-face with a table full of people. A table full of people who looked extremely familiar. Familiar and shocked, to be accurate.

"Well, this is just slightly awkward," I muttered. For once, our half of the Food Court was dead silent. Everyone stared at me, and I stared at everyone. I mean, I didn't even know half of these people and I was getting self-conscious. And everyone knows how much I get self-conscious.

And then, to my utter horror, someone began to laugh. And the laughter wasn't just coming from some random hobo Ella had invited to her birthday party—no, the divine force decided it hadn't tortured me enough. The laughter was coming from Iggy. I mean, he had freaking tears coming out of his eyes and he was blind. He couldn't even see me!

I frowned and sat down quickly, avoiding the eyes that followed me. "Nick's coming in a bit."

Dr. Martinez nodded slowly, obviously wondering if it had been a good idea to let us go.

"Ma—Alex, why is Nick late?" Ella asked, looking up at me and trying to smother her laughter. I rolled my eyes.

"He's, uh, changing," I replied. I didn't know if Fang wanted me to tell them this now, but they were all going to find out when he showed up wearing a bra and a girl's underwear, so it was better if they were prepared. At least I was a girl (physically speaking), but Fang was a man, both physically and mentally, so it would be even worse for him.

"Changing into what?" Nudge asked curiously. She was braiding Angel's soft, golden locks, but she turned her head to look at me. I smiled. At least they were having fun, and that's what we had come for.

"He's changing into the other items that we had to find, sweetie," I answered, smiling softly.

Ella looked at me, turning her head sharply. "Alex, what?"

I looked at her. And that's when I realized what I said. "Yeah, I couldn't wear all of it. So, he's wearing some of it. That's why we have partners, right?"

"Oh, I'm never going to let him forget this!" Iggy literally hopped up and down in his chair.

"Hate to break it to you, but you're blind, Jeff. You won't be able to see him anyways," I muttered. If he heard me, he didn't acknowledge it, so I turned away from him.

Turning away from him was probably the reason I was the first to spot the familiar figure standing next to the stand. And, when I realized what I was looking at, I nearly had a heart attack.

"Nick?"


Fang: Hey, Princess, shouldn't we go get Pikachu back?

Me: From Saint?

Fang: Yeah, I think she still has it...

...Somewhere, in a far off land, in the region Sinnoh...

Ash: PIKACHU!! WHERE ARE YOU??!!

....Back in the real world....

Me: Hmmm, looks like you're right!

Fang: -mutters- Aren't I always?

Me: -wacks Fang-

Fang: Hey, I was just kidding!

Me: If you want Pikachu to be returned, R&R! :)

Fang: Or you can just R&R and get a chapter faster, cuz otherwise you'll have to wait for Princess to break her laptop trying to think of an idea, get it repaired, think of an idea, type it up, and post it. Which can take a WHILE.

Me: We're off to find the Pikachu of Oz! Just follow the yellow brick road!

Fang: I have a feeling that this is going to come back later and bite me in the butt.