1: DISCLAIMER (4 entire story, cuz imma forget) I DO NOT OWN MAXIMUM RIDE OR THEBOUNTY HUNTER.

2: U GUYS R SWEET. U force me to write more. XD

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A/N: BACKGROUND INFORMATION: Remember Dwight? From the first chapter? He said Fang owes his boss some $$$? Dwight works for a "LOAN SHARK", or a person/company that loans out money to people.

3rd POV

Dwight walked into the hidden office in the back of a Souvenir Shop. The office belonged to his boss, Marian Janssen, who was the loan shark. She had a successful business; it was, of course, not known to the police. If they knew Marian sent out her own men to beat the crap out of people who don't pay her back, she would be in prison in the blink of an eye.

Marian turned around in her swivel chair so she was facing Dwight when he walked in. "What the hell happened to you," she said sharply, eyeing his injuries.

"Fang Boyd."

"Who?"

"Nick Boyd. The one you sent me after? Asshole kneed me in the eye," Dwight muttered.

"If only I gave a shit," Marian said, sighing. "So did you get my money?"

Dwight awkwardly looked around the room, not meeting her eyes.

She stared, and stared, and stared at him, before soon she screeched out, "OMEGA!"

(hint: Omega + Dwight= partners)

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2 mintues later, sitting in front of Omega's computer)

"Nick "Fang" Boyd," Omega read. "Ex-cop; fired last year for 'neglect of duty.' Current debt to us, because of gambling, is just over 11 grand ($11,000)." It was then that Marian came over. She slapped the ruler she'd been holding on the desk, making Omega and Dwight jump.

Omega continued. "We haven't seen a single penny and it's been two months."

"This is not good," Marian said, pacing the room. "We let this bum slide—people are going to start thinking that 'Hey, Marian's gone soft! We don't have to pay up!'"

She shook her head and pointed to the two of them. "No. You get him in here; Dwight—you break some part of his body, and then we'll have a Happy Fourth of July weekend!" She said cheerily.

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MPOV

"Unbelievable," I muttered, now sitting in the passenger's seat. Fang had whipped out some trusty handcuffs and shackled my right wrist to the door of the car. "How did you find me?" I snapped at him through the open window.

We were parked at a gas station, and Fang was doing his windows. "Well, I had a little chat with your mother…"

My MOM? "You called my mother? She didn't know I was there."

"No, but she said you went to go 'suck up some luck.'" Fang replied. "And I remembered your Dad had some crazy theory that all the losing at the track must leave all this extra luck lying around." He continued to swipe his windows. "I knew you'd be in section 'D' because that's your lucky letter." He dropped the window-wiper he was using and turned to look at me oddly. "Who has a lucky letter?"

I was actually kinda stunned. "I didn't know you knew all that stuff about me," I called to him.

"Of course I do; we were married." He took returned the gas pump and walked over to his driver side window, leaning onto the edge with his forearms. "But honestly, I love being single. I love everything about my life. Great job, good friends, hot girlfriend."

He caught me offguard with that. "Uh—girlfriend?"

"Yup. What—you didn't know that?" I just raised an eyebrow in reply. "Oh yeah," he continued. "I've had a number of crazy, exciting relationships since we crapped out. But I think this girl just might be the one."

"Hm. What's her name?" I challenged.

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FPOV

I almost crashed when she asked that; but I couldn't let her know I was lying. "Uh—" I would've said Lupo, but she was Iggy's girl. "Lissa." I mentally slapped myself. In all honesty, she was the last girl that I'd want to be my girlfriend…

She narrowed her eyes, trying to read me; I kept my face impassive as she asked, "And what does Lissa do? She a stripper?"

"No, she is not a stripper." I rolled my eyes. "She's a judge," I lied.

I knew I took her by surprise 'cause she looked confused; taken aback. "A judge?"

"A Court of Appeals Judge," I lied some more, trying to tick her off.

It worked, because the next thing I knew, she was calling out to me, "Ohhh, BULLSHIT. Bull-shit!"

"I'm not bullshitting you!" I said, holding in my laugh. "She's a Judge! Actually, kind of like the one you skipped out on."

She glared at me as I got back in the car.

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MPOV

"Alright, that's it—I'm done. I give up. I give up," I was saying. We were driving through Atlantic City now, and it was dark. I had absolutely no intention of staying in this same enclosed space any longer.

Digging through my bag, I pulled out some money and said, "Just—I don't wanna play anymore; Here, take it." I handed the bills to Fang.

He kept driving, but was now looking between my money and the road. "What's that?"

"Five-hundred dollars," I replied. Waving the bills around, I added. "Just take it and dump me anywhere on the side of the road. Anywhere. Right here—I don't care."

"Honey, I'm getting five grand just to bring your ass to jail—so do the math."

"No, you do it." I poked him in the shoulder.

"No," he replied indignantly.

I continued. "The Fang Boyd I knew? He could take this five-hundred dollars, walk into any casino and turn it into 5 thousand—just like that," I pointed out, snapping my fingers. "He could turn it into 10 thousand."

TAKE THE DAMN DEAL! I was thinking.

Instead, he muttered, "Yeah? Try fifty."

Fifty thousand? I played the doubtful card. "I dunno…I wouldn't go that far."

Now he looked over at me. "Why not?" he asked, and I caught a hint of confusion in his voice.

I looked at him innocently, playing him. "I dunno—you think you still got it?"

"Hell yeah, I still got it." Then, as if he flipped a switch he said, "You know—this isn't about the money."

"Ah," I said, not believing him.

"It's about me doing my job." Sounded more like you're trying to convince yourself, Fangy….

I just made a fan with my money and fanned my face like one of those Japanese Geisha girls.

Fang looked at me.

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Next thing I knew, Fang had pulled over and was uncuffing me from the car. As I got out, I said, "Alright. Now listen: If you win, you let me go. That's our deal—right? You get what you want, and I—"

He gave me a look and interrupted me. "Don't tell me—just c'mon."

We walked up to the casino we parked in front of: the Taj Mahal.

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Tailing Fang

3rd POV

"Oh, oh!" Sam spotted Fang and Max walking into the Taj Mahal. "Found ya! Wow….Sam!" he started talking to himself. "You are a huuugggge stu-u-u-uud!"

I found their car in the parking structure ad parked next to them.

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With Omega and Dwight

Still 3rd POV

Omega was on a bench next to the river, talking to Dwight on the phone. Dwight was in a supermarket, loading up on snacks.

"Dwight, be honest. Apart from chasing some guy down, breaking his legs, beating his face to a bloody pulp—you don't get a lot of aerobic exercise!" Omega was saying.

"Why are we even talking about this?"

"Because you're gonna get me killed one day when you're too slow to react in a life or death situation," Omega replied.

"I'm not too slow!"

Omega's phone beeped and he told Dwight, "Hang on; it's Marian." He switched calls. "Yeah?"

"They spotted Fang at the Taj. He's driving a blue Delta '88," Marian said.

"I'm on it."

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MPOV

"Ok, listen: there's this kid; he works at Old Dule's; he gives me information sometimes," I explained to Fang. We went down the escalators leading us into the casino floor.

"You mean he's a snitch," he corrected.

"Fine, he's a snitch," I replied, irritated. "But I think he's in a lot of trouble. I had him ask around about the suicide—this guy that dove off of a roof—"

"Shows me what you know," Fang muttered. "Suicides don't dive—they go feet first."

"Is that true? How do you know?" I asked him.

"Every cop knows that."

"Well, if every cop knows a suicide goes feet first, then why would a cop rule it as a suicide?"

Fang gave me a look as we got off the escalators. "How the hell should I know? Why don't you ask the cop who filled out the report?"

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SAM POV

Getting out of my car, I ran—crouching low to keep out of sight.

To my right, Fang's car was parked. I crawled my way over to the back side of the car, crouching by the trunk.

Knocking on the trunk, I hissed, "Max! Max, it's Sam; I'm here to rescue you!"

After a few moments of silence, I panicked. "Oh my god, she's passed out!"

I went around to the driver's door, opened it, and unlocked the trunk from inside of the car. "YES! Hero time…!"

I returned to the trunk. "Okay—here you go, I gotcha—" Lifting the lid, I saw it was empty. "Ohh—Oh shit. Shit, shit, shit!" I slammed the trunk shut in defeat and found myself greeted by a blonde dude leaning against Fang's car.

He smirked at me. "Hi," he said. He nodded towards the car. "Delta '88, huh?"

Think fast! "Uh, yep. Yep, it sure is. This is, uh, this is my car…" I answered awkwardly. It's not like I had a choice; either go along, or get reported to the police for B&E into someone's car…

The guy came to stand next to me as we looked at "my car."

I decided small talk would bore him and make him leave. "Yep, it was even used in an ice cube commercial." I mentally shot myself in the foot. Change of subject. "You a big fan of cars?" I asked. "'Cause what I really like about this is that—"

Suddenly, my face was being forced down into the back of Fang's car. Hello, blackness.

MPOV

"500 on the pass line, please," Fang said.

We were inside the casino now, at the Craps table.

Wait. 500. Say WHAT? "Whoa, whoa, whoa—you're betting all of it? What if you lose?" I asked him, freaking out.

"Then we're back in the car. So if I lose, I still win." I hated his logic. He held the two dice out to me. "Now blow on it."

I regarded at him with a weirded-out look. "No!"

"You always did it before," he pointed out, causing me to roll my eyes. "Look, you want me to win, don't you? If I win, you go free, remember?" He pressed. Fang gave me a look and I returned it, mocking him.

"C'mon, shooter. Roll the dice," the dealer said, clearly impatient.

I rolled my eyes again and blew on the dice.

In Craps, you pretty much have to get a 7 or 11 to win. If you roll, say, a 3, you have to get a 3 again before u get winning roll.

Fang rolled, and a 4 and 3 came up, making a 7.

…Win-ner! He doubled the money, going from $500 to $1000!

4 thousand more to go…

I blew again on the dice for his second roll. Like before, Fang was betting it all.

A 5 and 6 were rolled, and two more stacks of $500 came our way.

$2000.

He held the dice in his hand and gestured at to blow.

Aand….it's a 3 and 4.

Now we had $4000.

He placed another all-in bet—all 4 grand.

Blow.

Roll.

It turned out to be a 5 and a 5, but the second 5 turned over to a 6, and Fang won 4 more thousand.

That's $8000! He won!

"Eight grand…so beautiful…" Fang smirked.

"See, you did it! I said you'd do it, and you did!" I laughed. "I'm outta here—You win, I walk!"

As I turned to leave, Fang grabbed my arm and pulled me back. "Where do you think you're going?"

"Are you kidding me, Fang? We had a deal! You win 5, I walk free!"

"No, you said 10."

"I said 5 Fang."

"In the car," Fang said slowly, "you said I could turn 500 into 10,000."

"Yes, but first I had said—"

He cut me off. "No butts. Why would I try to win 5 when I'm gonna get 5 for bringing you in! That doesn't even make sense!"

"Well you know what doesn't make any sense? I'm walking; I'm leaving—okay? I'm outta here." I was already starting to walk away when he pulled me back again.

"Hey—no!" he placed me firmly in front of him. In my ear, he said, "You will stay put until I win 10 grand—then you walk, okay?" He held the dice in my face. "You have my word—now blow."

I just stared at the dice through narrowed eyes. "You're word is worth shit."

"Let's go, shooter!" the dealer pressed.

I just shook my head, annoying Fang. "You know what? Forget it; I can do this all on my own. It's all me, anyway," he muttered.

He rolled, and a 3 and 1 appeared. 4; not a winner.

"Okay, four…I can do that," Fang said, thinking aloud. "Two 2's, or a 3 and a 1."

"Yuup. Or a 4 and a 0," I added sarcastically, knowing , of course, you can't roll a 0 on one of the dice.

"Shut up," he muttered, and he rolled.

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We got off the elevators at our floor.

Clearly, we were staying at the Taj Mahal for a little while.

And clearly, Fang was being a sore loser. "Of course you're to blame!" he was telling me. "What, a 4 and a 0? C'mon! You mock the Gods of Craps—and I paid for it!"

"The Gods of Craps?! Do you hear yourself?" I exclaimed.

"No," he said, grabbing me and leading us down the left hallway. He spoke sarcastically. "All I hear is the sound of eight thousand dollars in chips being swept away from me."

I groaned. "Fang—Fang you have got to let me go!"

"No, I don't have to do anything except win my money back—which I will do as soon as I can find the damn room!"

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SLAM. That was our door.

We finally found our suite. And it looked fiiine.

"Wow. This is nice," I commented, observing the elegant furnishings.

"Glad you like it, 'cause you paid for it," he told me as we entered the bedroom. I caught a smirk on his face as he was passing me.

I grabbed his arm so he faced me. "I? I paid for it? Me?"

"Yeah… I lifted your credit card," he explained, still looking smug. "I mean, it was a pretty shitty thing to do, but I feel better now that you know," he added, sarcastically.

"You stole my credit card?" I shrieked.

"See, that's what you always do. I borrow your credit card and it turns into stealing. You're always blowing things out of proportion."

"You know what? Just stop it with the 'always' crap," I told him.

He was currently walking me over to the bed and sitting my down on the bed's right side, the non-window side of the bed. I paid no attention and ranted on. "We dated for six months. We were married for nine months. That is fifteen months, okay? That is NOT 'always,' champ!" I corrected.

Sometime during my speech, Fang had pulled out those cold, hard handcuffs and handcuffed my right wrist to the horizontal bar on top of the headboard. My arm hung at a 40/45 degree angle. And I'm not too hot on that idea. "Hey—what are you doing?"

He ignored me, placing his duffle bag on the sofa at the foot of our bed.

I tried again, realizing he was leaving. "Hey. Hey, hey—where are you going?" he continued to ignore me and headed back towards the main room. "HEY! FANG!" I was shouting now. "Don't you dare leave me here like this! Fang!" I stood as best as I could, picked up a vase on the bedside table, and threw it at Fang. It missed his head by half a foot as he turned a corner. Instead, it hit the wall, exploding and raining to the carpet in pieces.

Fang popped his head around the corner just to say, "You'll probably have to pay for that," he reminded me, and then disappeard.

I screamed out in frustration and plopped onto the bed in defeat.

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*Time Skip*

9:OO PM~ Fang enters elevator, heading down into the casino confidently.

3:OO AM~ Fang returns to their floor, stepping off the elevator all tipsy and wasted.

He returns to his room and immediately falls asleep on the bed.

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MPOV

I heard him come in and I waited a few minutes before making my move. I propped myself up and peered over to my left. He was fast asleep and snoring softly.

And just a wee bit further on his corner table was his gun. I needed that gun. Surely he'd uncuff me if I had his weapon, right?

So I did what I could.

I started my rolling over to my left and sliding my handcuffed hand along the horizontal bar it was attached to.

Now…how to get on the other side of Fang. Without waking him up.

I tried reaching across my right side of my body with my left arm, my free arm, desperately trying to grab the gun.

No chizz.

I almost fell on top of Fang, but I caught myself on the bed with my left hand.

Ok. New plan.

Awkward plan.

I slid my attached wrist, my right one, all the way across the bedframe until it reached the end—which was Fang's side of the bed. Then I held onto the frame with my left hand. To balance everything out, I had no choice but to lift my right leg over Fang and place that knee on his other side—on his left side; this left me in a straddling position.

God, he better not wake up. Mind you, I'm still in a dress.

As I was reaching over again, I heard a groggy, "Whadar'youdoing?"

"What?" I gasped and looked down, seeing Fang looking up at me sleepily.

"Are you tryin' to seduce me?"

Some voice inside of me was screaming, Play along! So I did.

I laughed slightly and gave him that flirty look I used to give him; smirking with a mischievous look, I flipped my hair over my shoulder. I pretended to give in, saying, "Yeah….I am…" I added in another slight laugh.

He chuckled with me. "Wow…" He took in a deep breath and added, "What would you like to touch first? You always loved my shoulders…"

I almost choked in surprise, but I continued the act. "Oh yes, your shoulders…and especially in the right jacket? So….impressive," I drawled on.

"How about my chest?"

"Soo….solid and so strong…" I continued.

In case you hadn't guessed….I suppose I wasn't lying. Fang was a very well built man…

"And my lips?"

I didn't hesitate as I answered, "Your lips are…a… perfect…match…for mine." I had leaned in to give him a kiss, hoping I would throw him off a bit so I could grab his gun.

As we were literally a centimeter apart, he interrupted us. "But what you'd really like to touch first," he said, making me slowly pull away from his face. "is powerful; sometimes dangerous." I looked at him curiously now. "It's hard…"

"Yes?" I pressed on.

I gasped in shock when he jerked his gun in my face. "And that would be my gun," he finished, wearing his stupid, trademark smirk. (GOD I didn't even see him grab it!)

He started laughing at me as I rolled my eyes and glared down at him. "You are such a dick," I told him. I groaned and rolled off him, collapsing back on my side of the bed. "Such a dick…!" I was muttering.

He threw my words right back in my face when he added, "Yeah….but in the right jacket…" he continued chuckling.

Ass…. I thought, repositioning myself so he faced my back. I sighed in frustration.

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I had such fun writing that last part... XD Hope this made up for the zillion of years I kept u waiting….. ^_^ sorrryyyy…

Thanks so much for the review guys. Haha, don't hold back! ;)