Next part, though i haven finished the next new bit yet so updates may slow from here on out. ^^; I hope you hate writers block as much as I do, because its hitting me like a ten tonne truck again. Not really what to write, but how to write it... silly thing. Anyway. Hope you enjoy this part. Sorry if it asnt been edited much for those who read it when i accidentally posted all of it ^^;

CRAZY: sent you a message regarding my muck up. really sorry about that btw ^^; i can be such a ditz. Thank you for the review =3 its much appreciated.

Part 4

Suspicion hit Max like a steam train right from the off, since this woman was going to be 'caring for them', as she told the doctors, for a little while, she wanted to know what she was up against. Even when she was helping Fang into the car her senses were on overdrive, checking the car over, that the seatbelts weren't razor sharp.

She'd learned to expect anything by now.

Though helping Fang didn't really mean 'helping' as such, more trying to help him get into the car while he mumbled about being able to do it himself, flinching every few seconds from pain and having general difficulty getting into the seat. He could be really stupid sometimes.

Back to the suspicion, Max noticed instantly, as you would, that Anne had a very large car for someone who apparently lived on her own. It was black, always a good style choice, but that wasn't the real issue at hand.

Guess how many seats it had, minus the driver's seat: Six.

How many flock members had the been before the incident with the school? Six.

Admittedly, that could be a total coincidence. Being in the FBI she probably had to ferry people around sometimes, though Max doubted the kind of people she ferried about would get a comfy car like this. She also seemed way too at ease with this whole bird kid thing. Most people would freak out at the sight of a child with wings.

She is from the FBI, Max.

Shush, I'm thinking. Came Max's curt thought-response She was on a roll here, she didn't want interruptions. What was freakier is, though she apparently stayed in the waiting room all night, in the back seat of Anne's car were seemly hundreds of shopping bags filled with clothes and random crap teens need: shoes; hairbrushes; hair gel; toothbrushes; shower gels; towels; even new freakin' underwear.

Either she was incredibly caring and trying to be a mother figure, having stayed up all night getting this stuff and cutting slits in things, or very good at her job and had it all ready yesterday night. That or she ordered some poor schmuck around to get it all for her while she slept.

She was pretty sure FBI people could do that sort of thing.

Fang had been given the front seat, even when he feebly argued he was fine to sit in the back with Max. Anne had been impartial, happy to move the bags for him, but Max had insisted he go in the front, simply because it reclined better than the ones in the back. He spent the whole journey laying right back, his eyes closed and resting, arms folded in his lap. Max was happy he was finally trying to relax and rest, but at the same time wishing he was more alert when her own senses were on hyper drive.

It made her feel like she was over reacting.

As they got closer and closer to Anne's house, she rested her head against the window as she took in the scenery. It was pretty, all rolling hills and bales of hay, like in a movie. Her narcissistic brain twigged it as 'too perfect' as Anne pointed out horses and cows and sheep.

The younger kids would have loved this, Max thought to herself as she pointed to the hundredth sheep. I wonder if she realises how old we are…and the fact Fang is sleeping…

Soon they were off the main road and onto a less travelled pathway, potholes and lumps missing from the road forcing Max to take her head off of the window unless she wanted a concussion. She started to feel a little travelsick as they swerved to avoid what the horses had left behind from their morning strolls. Anne turning the radio down a little once she noticed Fang.

Max leant back against the headrest, twisting her head to keep an eye on Fang. Turning the music down had been pointless, as every time the car jolted over a hole or swerved his jaw would tighten or his eyes would screw up ever so slightly. Maybe he wasn't quite ready to be out of the hospital, but that place had her climbing the walls as well. All the white coats and antiseptic brought back some pretty horrific memories for the both of them. Ones they wanted to leave in the past.

Preferably buried.

Anne hadn't wanted to move him, but he'd insisted as he pulled on the shirt a kind nurse had left for him, followed by a jumper Anne returned with a few minutes later. She said the paperwork was being taken care of and they could leave. Max had never seen him move so fast in his life, even when being chased by an eraser hoard, and he had a painful side wound.

Finally, the road surface started getting better as they reached a posh looking road. There was a five minute drive between each house for God's sake, the houses so far up the drives you couldn't see them through the trees lining the walls.

Finally Anne pulled out a small remote and used it to open the gates to one of the houses. It took a few seconds for the gates to open, and Anne was quickly driving through and up the concealed part of the drive way. Max spun round and watched the gates swing shut silently, locking into place.

She could fly an' all, but it still felt like a prison.

The place was massive. In fact, massive would be an understatement. It took a good few minutes to drive from the gates to the actual house across rolling hills of grass and flower beds. Max couldn't help her mouth dropping open slightly as she got out of the car, taking in the sheer size of the house. It was bigger than Jeb's old E-shaped house, and was two stories high to add to that. Before she came back to her senses, Fang had managed to pull himself out of the car, leaning on the door as he examined the place silently.

"Wow," he whispered so softly Max barely heard it. He took his arm off the door and shut it as Anne emerged from the driver's seat.

"Alright!" She clapped her hands together like an over caffeinated teacher, a huge smile across her face. "I'll bring in the bags and things, you two can go and find your rooms. Any room on the top floor is yours."

"Are you su-" Max started, but they were give the door key and ushered onto the porch. Taking a quick glance at Fang, she shrugged and pushed the key in the door. It clicked open. Another suspicion: she didn't want them to see what was in the trunk. Maybe she was going to stab them with needles in their sleep or something.

A hand taking hers brought her back to reality, and she looked up to Fang slightly ahead of her, keys now in his hand, waiting.

"You coming?" he asked, searching her eyes for a hint. He wondered what she was thinking about. But he didn't get any clues as she smiled at him, squeezing his hand slightly as she took her first step inside their new home.

*~*~*~*

Fang let her have the first choice of rooms, and Max was pretty sure she got the room he wanted. Not that she wanted to take it from him, but she loved it too, and he told her to have it when she was (reluctantly) going to pick one of the other rooms.

All of them were painted mutual colours; beige, white, that kind of thing. Like a newly painted house if the developers just want to get it over with a.s.a.p. Max's room was white, with a dark beige carpet. The first thing she did was take her shoes and socks off and pad along the floor bear foot. It felt so odd, having soft carpet beneath her feet instead of dirt or grass.

The main reasons she chose this room, though, were the other features. It had a double, four poster bed. One of the ones with drapes on the sides that you can pull around you, just blocking out that extra bit of sun. Max wasn't sure if she'd ever pull those down, the enclosed feeling might be a little too much for her, but it looked really cool.

The other was probably the reason Fang had wanted it. It was the only room on the floor that had a huge balcony that opened up over the back of the house, overlooking the grounds. Ann had a lot of grounds. The centre was a humongous pond, which Max could distinguish fish in the clear water even from this distance. They were massive fish. The rest was either grass or paddocks containing every farm animal you could think of: Horses; cows; sheep; pigs; chickens; a dog.

It really was mind boggling.

That was where she was stood now, leaning her weight on the dark wooden banister, letting the wind play with her hair as she surveyed the masses of land and animal life. Fang was stood next to her, in a similar position as he gazed out over the garden.

"You were right." Max look round at him. He was staring at the fish pond, watching a cat try and catch a monster carp.

"In what way?" She asked as she looked over to the horse paddock. A mother and her foal were running about the field, galloping in the slowly dimming light. The thought that the kids would love it her crossed her mind, but Max quickly pushed it away. Thoughts like that either made her crumble into a teary mess or make her punch something. Neither reaction was really that constructive.

"It's perfect." He replied without looking at her, letting a smirk touch his lips as Carpzilla drowned the cat with a splash from its tail, sending it running. "Maybe too perfect."

"What I've been thinking the whole day," Max mumbled her response, tearing her eyes away from the reminder of her Flock to look at the sheep instead. There were six free rooms on this floor, and two bathrooms. This room even had its own en suite bit, shared with the bedroom on the other side.

Strange that. Six.

"So what're we going to do?" Man he was talkative tonight. Mind you, they'd been sat, cross-legged on her bed trying to decipher pages and pages of code in silence for hours on end. She didn't blame him for being talkative. She shrugged in response, pushing a bit of wayward hair behind her ear.

"Hang here for a bit, until you're all better" Fang snorted, but she continued. "We'll blow this dump when we figure out our next more, or we're forced to move."

"This is a dump?" Their eyes met as he raised en eyebrow, a grin on his facing telling her he was joking. She returned the smile, giving him a gentle thump on the top of his arm before walking back into the room, the carpet slipping between her bare toes as she headed for the bed. Max pulled the papers together into a messy pile on the comforter and picked them up, moving them to the quaint little desk on the other side of the room.

The room had a wardrobe and a little drawer unit that matched the bed, a dark brown. Mahogany, she thought Anne had said. Some kind of wood. Then there was the vanity table, or desk with a mirror to normal people. Max flopped down onto the stood in front of it and took a quick glance in the mirror, running her fingers over her flushed face.

She'd like to blame the wind, but inside she knew it was a lie. She'd been feeling very warm all day, even in the car on the way here she felt like she was burning up. Fang mentioned being warm once, but it passed. Max's seemed to be permanent, giving her a glow on her cheeks.

It was uncomfortable. Another annoyance to add to her list called life.

Fang walked up behind her and bent down a little, wrapping his arms around the tops of hers, holding them to her sides and kissing her shoulder before resting his chin there. She bought her hands up to hold his lower arms, closing her eyes and leaning into the head on her shoulder as he swayed them from side to side. Fang closed his eyes as well, willing to stay like that for the rest of the evening. His calves would hurt, but it was relaxing.

"Max! Nick! Dinner's up!" Anne's voice echoed up the stairs, interrupting their silent moment. Max sighed, moving to get up, but Fang held her a little tighter, keeping her sat in the chair as he kept them rocking.

"You OK, Max?" He whispered, turning his head to look at her flushed cheek. Her eyes were closed again, a soft smile on her lips as she swayed with him. As he spoke her eyes opened, turning her head to look at him as best she could.

"Yeah," she whispered, giving him a reassuring smile. "Just…a lot has happened, you know?" Fang returned her smile as he moved to kneel next to her, his calves folded under his thighs and resting one arm on her lap as the other came up to stroke her cheek with his thumb.

"I'm always here," he mumbled, matching her smile as he gently stroked her cheek. She tilted her head down and to the side, into his hand as his rough thumb caressed her smooth skin. Then he closed the gap between them, pressing his lips to hers as his hand held her cheek softly.

She kissed him back, gently pulling on his lower lip as he tilted his head a little more, kissing her more deeply. Wild horses pulling a bomb couldn't drag her away as Fang shuffled a little closer, leaning in, lifting his thighs from resting on his calves. Max tilted her head up very slightly to maintain the sweet, sweet contact, bringing an arm up into his hair an the other around his back. His other arm found itself around her waist, pulling her forwards. Her legs bent as she slipped off the edge of the stool, her feet slipping under the stool and her behind resting just on the edge of it, her legs bent under the seat as she held him tighter.

Much to her disappointment, he broke the kiss seconds after he pulled her to him, breathing heavily and flinching slightly. Max frowned, bringing her hand round through his hair to stroke his cheek. His jaw was tight, his eyes squeezed shut for a few seconds. It was still painful. She should have stopped him, his lips were still pale, his skin colder than it should be.

So much for being a responsible leader.

"Max? Nick? Dinner's getting cold!" The smell wafting up the stairs turned Fang's stomach, but it would turn anyone's stomach, regardless of health. Burning drifted up with a strong waft of coriander and a hint of chilli. He was sure he could smell toast as well.

"Smells like Anne cant cook either," Max commented, coaxing him to open his eyes. She was still incredibly close to him, held there by his arm. She had a smile on her face, but Fang could see the worry swimming in her eyes. He slipped his hand from her cheek to the top of her arm, mimicking her smile as he stroked it softly.

"C'mon," he said, holding her tighter still as he pulled himself back to his feet, taking her with him. "We wont know until we try it, and after hospital food, I'm game for even your cooking."

"Hey!" Max protested as he set her on the floor, giving him a playful punch in the arm before taking his hand. "I can cook better than you!"

"Can't" Fang smirked, teasing her.

"Can to. I'll prove it. You and me, in the kitchen, 9am. We're making breakfast."

"If Anne agrees," he grinned.

"She will. Nudge and Angel weren't the only ones with Bambi eyes, Fang. It's a girl thing"

*~*~*~*

Dinner was interesting, to say the least. Anne really had tried to make a nice dinner. She even made tonnes extra than usual, having noticed how much they ate in the hospital. Problem was, it didn't quite…work. She'd cooked chilli from cans. Five cans, to be exact, heating it up in saucepans. The burning smell was coming from the toaster. Apparently she was just as apt at making toast as Max was.

Meaning completely hopeless.

Max put another mouthful of chilli and charcoal in her mouth and chewed slowly. Fang was right, this was way better than hospital food. But their breakfast duel for tomorrow was still on. Anne had already agreed to be the taster, saying it was going to be like 'Master Chef'. Apparently a TV program of some kind.

"So, day after tomorrow, you start school." Anne casually broke the toast-crunching before putting another forkful in her mouth. Fang stopped chewing and glanced sideways at Max, who'd almost spat her mouthful out in surprise.

"Wait, what?" she asked after swallowing, grabbing her drink and taking a huge glug. Fang's eyes slid to his other side, where Anne was seated, finishing her mouthful before talking.

"You know, school. I figured you could try and have a normal life now, with me. So I enrolled you in a school." Both bird kids caught each others eyes at the same time, an eyebrow raised. Max then furrowed hers, and Fang shrugged, spearing another lump of toast and chilli on his fork as he nudged his head towards Anne. Silent conversations.

Almost as good as the old secret language at the School.

"We wont fit in there," Max said, laughing very slightly at the end of her sentence, picking up her fork again. "We're too old to just start school."

"You can go into a school at any time," Anne said, looking at her innocently. "We'll say you transferred, get Phyllis to draw up some papers saying so. They'll run tests to check your abilities and place you in the correct classes and things."

Phyllis was Anne's 'behind-the-scenes' organiser that was incredibly dedicated, underpaid for the amount of work that she did, and never asked questions. The bags of clothes and stuff in the back of Anne's car had been a result of Phyllis and an all-nighter in a store the FBI made stay open really late. The files on them Anne had been carrying in the hospital had also been a product of Phyllis' dedication to research.

Good old Phyllis.

Max wished she had the gift of the gab, like Nudge. Then she could have talked Anne out of her ridiculous idea and they could go back to relaxing. Instead, she drew a blank. Fang wasn't being particularly useful as he got up to make more toast.

"Good," Anne smiled, taking a sip from her drink. "I already got you your uniforms and books and things." Max looked up. She was till smiling that smile, the one that was beginning to agitate Max more and more every time she saw it.

"We have to wear uniforms?"

"Yep. And no wing slits. So you'll look normal, like everyone else."

"So we can't fly there and back?" Max wasn't sure she wanted to look normal. She was a mutant freak, but she liked being that way. It made her who she was: Maximum Ride, butt-kicker extraordinaire. That and it meant they'd either have to drive there, or walk. Both weren't the most appealing options.

"We don't want to risk someone seeing you. I'll give you a lift in, but you'll have to walk home." Anne stated as she laid her knife and fork neatly on her plate and folded her hands in her lap. "I'll be at work, but it isn't that far away."

"Right," Max commented, already hating the idea as she played with the last bit of chilli on her plate. Fang had slipped back into his chair, a fresh plate of chilli and non-burnt toast half eaten in front of him. For someone recovering, he had a big appetite.

Probably a good thing, Max thought as she pushed the last of the chilli into her mouth, placing the knife and fork as Anne had and pushing her plate slightly away. Anne took the napkin off her lap and walked around the table, picking up Max's empty plate and putting it on top of hers.

"Did you like it?" She asked as she took them to the sink, slipping them into the bowl and starting the tap. Max blinked a few times at the back of her head, taking a few seconds to decide how to say what she was thinking.

"It was…different?" She ventured, instantly wishing she'd come up with something better. She expected Anne to get upset, or angry, but instead she burst out laughing, looking over her shoulder with a happy smile. Max actually found herself smiling back. This was the closest to a biscuit-box picture-perfect family dinner, even is she had just insulted her cooking.

Fang slid up beside her and slipped his plate into the soapy water, mumbling a thank you as he walked away. He stood looking into the darkness out of the kitchen window for a few seconds before speaking again. "Going to bed."

"Yeah, me too…" Max stretched her arms above her head, ignoring her shoulder as it clicked.

"Ok, night. Get lots of sleep for you cooking competition tomorrow!" Anne responded gleefully, waving a marigold-gloved hand. Max caked on a grin until she looked away again, then it dropped. This whole 'mummy-dearest' situation seemed too sweet to be real. Her brain was waiting, possibly pleading, for it to end.

Knowing her life, it would be abruptly.