Author Note December 31, 2008 /The order of events in this section has been changed up. The missing section at the end will have to be added to the beginning of the next FAX scene. Until that is added back in, there will be a disconnect between how they got from outside the station to inside the station.
I really like how the FAX turned out in this rewrite. I'm getting kind of discouraged with no more reviews, now that chapters aren't being added daily. It is like a drug, that release of endorphins that comes from being loved. I thought I wouldn't stoop to this level, but I'd really like to read your thoughts on this chapter. If you've already reviewed it once, send me a PM and I can even add it to the end of the chapter as a review. Or maybe there's some other way ... I'll do my best to publish it with the story if you make the effort./
Fang was waiting on the high branch of the tree where he had used his wings to protect Max from an attack on her DNA. Now Max was returning from a surveillance flight. She angled her wings and parted the swaying upper green leaves of the tall tree. Feet pointing down, she drew her wings up quickly. As soon as her feet touched the branch, she crouched and grasped the thick bark with her fingers to steady her balance.
Then she straddled the branch and looked into Fang's eyes. Her reflection in his pupils showed the flush of excitement on her face that came every time she flew.
"I found the perfect place to camp for the night. It's a forest service station elevated high above the ground." Max couldn't hold back a smirk when she said, "You can climb up the ladder – just like the rangers do."
Fang tugged at her hair in mock annoyance. "You still think I'm won't be able to fly by tonight?"
Max reached out and let her fingers brush over one of his delicate flight feathers that was pointed out at an odd angle. In a motherly, soft voice she said, "I know it."
Fang's hand curved around the back of Max's head. His mouth opened, like he was going to say something. Instead he simply looked into her eyes.
From the depth of the forest, a tree began to creak and then there was a soft thump as the trunk fell over. Max looked around, but the tree was too far away and the leaves were dense this high up.
A breeze blew through the leaves, whispering shush, shush. Fang's eyes watched in wonder as a few strands of Max's hair blew up like kite strings before floating back down to her face.
The late afternoon light filtered through rustling green leaves, dappling the branch and Fang's face with sunlight in contrast with splotches of green-tinted shadows.
Max broke the silence. "Turn around, Fang."
Without questioning, Fang turned and straddled the branch the same way Max had done. His wings had not yet contracted. He wouldn't admit that he was still in pain from wrenching them forward to shield Max from the attack. But Max knew it.
Max wordlessly lifted the bottom of his black muscle shirt up his waist. He automatically lifted his arms above his head so that Max could bring the shirt over his head. She stood up to draw the arm holes off of his lanky arms. Carefully, she extracted it from between his wings and dropped the shirt into his lap.
Fang tucked the shirt into his waist band and let it hang over his back pocket.
Max sat down to begin her examination of his wings and his back. On his neck and back there were deep scars from the claws of wolf-human hybrid Erasers. The scars stared at her, gut-curdling reminders of deadly fights Fang had lived through. Even the bird-kids' hyper-drive metabolisms couldn't make their bodies heal from these tortuous wounds completely.
Max ran her hands up from his waistline over dark bruises along the skin on both sides of his back.
"Ow!" Fang growled through clenched teeth, "Could you be a little gentler?"
"I was gentle. You're bruised everywhere, Fang!" Max asked, "How heavy was that attack?" She peered at him under his wing. To see his face, she bent forward and lay her elbow on his thigh, curling around his back.
Fang's face hardened and he looked away from Max. "It hurt enough to make me want to run away," he managed to say nearly soundlessly.
Max waited for his eyes to turn back and meet hers. Eventually she gave up and straightened herself out behind him.
Hesitating for a moment, she carefully fingered a contour feather at the base of his wing along his back. She pulled her fingers down the feather gently and watched a few particles of dusty dirt float into the air. They reflected the yellowish light of the sun like dust motes in a sun drenched room.
Then she continued feather by feather, smoothing them, fitting them neatly back where they belonged. She picked bits of leaves and twigs out from between his feathers. There were a few red mites that she squished between her thumb and forefinger, too.
Max worked like she was in a trance, methodically straightening each feather and restoring order. In an absentminded voice she said aloud, "We should do this with the rest of the flock. Get everyone to preen each other. That would help develop teamwork, don't you think, Fang?"
Fang looked over his shoulder. His eyes were heavy and glazed over as he said, "That's not going to happen."
Max was silently working on his wing again. She gently eased closed the bones in his enormous wing until it was nearly folded in. Then she began fingering each of his primary feathers.
In a low, meditative voice, Max said, "You're letting me groom you. If I can get you to do this, then I can get anybody on board."
Fang laughed nearly silently. "I also let you kiss me. Are we going to build the team with a kissing contest?"
Max straightened her back and warned in a harsh voice, "You're asking for trouble."
Fang searched for her leg with one of his hands. When he found it, he leaned back to croon, "I'm only asking for your love."
Max pursed her lips together tightly as she fingered each of his feathers. Fang kept on humming some off-key music. Every once in a while he glanced behind him with a smirk on his face. Max kept her eyes on her work whenever he turned around.
"Your wings are huge!" Max muttered as she completed work on his right wing.
"You know what they say. 'The bigger the wing, the bigger …'"
"The mouth," Max snapped. "Do you want me to work on your other wing? Because if you do, you better behave."
Fang twisted around to show Max a funny puppy dog expression on his face. Max kept a straight face for a moment, but finally laughed aloud. "Alright, alright. Show me your other wing."
His left wing was more damaged than the right one. She pulled out a tangle of debris and a broken feather came with it. Fang winced.
"It really hurts, doesn't it?" Max whispered sympathetically.
Looking down, Fang grumbled, "Next time I decide to rescue you, remind me how this turned out."
Max stopped and reprimanded him with a tsk and a huff of air. She slowly started grooming him again. Some of the feathers had bled where they were broken off. The dried blood broke into dusty particles when she fingered those feathers. A bit of blood had dripped on the skin beneath his wings.
When she finished, she tucked in his gigantic wing gently, next to the right one. Then she rested her forehead on the small patch of warm skin between his wings. "Thank you for keeping me alive," she whispered.
Fang was silent. Max turned her head and rested her cheek on his bare skin. His warmth radiated into her face.
She gently eased her fingers under his wings where she let her fingers glide through the filoplumes and downy feathers. Her hands felt warm there, buried in the soft feathers.
Max applied slight pressure on the left side of his back and along the breastbone as she massaged his taut wing muscles.
"A little bit higher," Fang requested. "To the left. No, the left." Max moved her hands where he directed. He finally sighed contentedly. Max next worked on the muscles on his right side.
After the sun's yellow brightness diminished by a few shades, Max's eyelids drooped heavily. She put her arms around Fang's waist and dozed off, leaning on his back. She drooled slightly on his back.
Fang began to slump forward, sleep threatening to overtake him as well. His head nodded forward and he jerked it up. Max didn't wake up.
After a few minutes, Fang's head nodded forward even more. This time when he jerked back, Max's balance shifted. She slowly slid off the right side of the branch. Her eyes opened just as she fell to the ground below.
She landed on her back, and the air was pushed out of her chest with an oooff.
"Max!" Fang's distant voice called out.
Max lay still.
I'm thinking that I don't want to hurry up and find out if anything's broken.
Fang will be more than happy to point out any breaks I have. Why is he climbing down that tree? You look stupid. Just fly down. It'd be faster.
Oh, I was fixing his wing earlier, wasn't I? He can't fly, is that it? We make a great comic relief team, don't we, Fang?
He knelt at her side and felt along the bones in Max's neck with both hands. Then he ran his fingers across Max's skull. "'S good," he said to himself.
He gently moved each arm and leg, then ran his hands behind Max's back and ribs. Finally, he fingered her collarbone.
His taut face finally relaxed and he looked into Max's eyes. "I think you're going to be okay. How do you feel?"
Max opened and closed her mouth, kind of like catching flies. "Besides the headache? I don't know," she finally said.
Fang leaned closer. "You don't know?" He ran a finger in front of both of Max's eyes, and she tracked it.
"You're supposed to be feeling okay," he said with a tense voice.
"Fang," Max said quietly.
"Yeah?"
Max just looked up at him.
"What is it, Max?" Fang said, leaning closer.
Max lifted her hand and found his hand. Then she whispered, "I'm crushing on you right now."
Fang's face went blank. Then he flushed slightly and leaned in to kiss her lips. He followed with another two light kisses, and caressed her cheek with his free hand. Max's eyes opened again to look into his.
Fang cleared his throat and looked away. Then he helped her stand up.
She lost her balance slightly, leaning into Fang for support. "I got it," she managed to mumble. She shook her head.
"Clearing out cobwebs?" Fang chuckled, avoiding her eyes.
Max muttered, "Ha ha. Let's see you fall three stories and get up without broken bones."
"I'll leave the stunt work to you," Fang joked.
Max glared at him.
Fang put his arm around her shoulder, "Take it easy, Max. Let's focus on survival. That's always good for a laugh. Which way to the station you scouted out?"
Max trudged forward.
"And the fearless leader Maximum Ride resumes her trek across the wild woods …" Fang did a poor imitation of Jacque Cousteau.
"You're in a good mood," Max muttered.
Under his breath, but loud enough for Max to hear loud and clear, he said, "You kissed me today. What kind of mood did you expect me to be in?"
Max huffed. "I was glad to see you."
Fang took her hand and whispered in her ear, "You lllllooooooveeee me. That's what, two times now?"
Max grumbled, "You were helping me. It seemed like a nice thing to say."
Fang stopped Max and angled her to look at him straight on. "It was a nice thing to say. And it was even nicer when I kissed you just now, wasn't it?"
Max turned away abruptly. "Can't you just drop it?" She stomped ahead of him.
"No, I can't," Fang said, striding beside Max.
"Why not?" Max spoke into the air in front of her, not looking at Fang.
Fang kept pace with her. He said nothing. Max glanced at him. He was looking ahead, with a blank expression on his face.
Great. He has to think about. Can't he just say he loves me?
Max ran ahead of him without explanation. Then she heard trickling water on the side of a hill.
"We need water," she shouted behind her and trotted up the rocky hill until she found a tiny spring.
She splashed the water on her face. When she looked up, Fang was kneeling beside her. He cupped water to his mouth, thirstily gulping handful after handful of the cool tonic.
She fought herself. He's going to think you're flirting, Max. Don't do it.
Ignoring her better judgment, she blurted out, "I should wash your back, you know. How 'bout I use your shirt? It can dry overnight."
Fang nodded. Max tugged the shirt free from his waistband where he had tucked it in earlier. She let the spring water flow over it until it was saturated. Then she wiped down his back. He stood up wordlessly and turned to face her. He was almost a foot taller than Max. She stood on her toes and reached up to wash his neck and shoulders. Then she ran the shirt down his arms, like a mother hen doting on her chick.
Fang said nothing. He looked off at the trees, standing immobile. Finally Max wiped down his chest and then rinsed the dirt out under the trickling spring, which took some time. Fang looked down at her, watching her hands squeeze out the shirt and soak it over and over again.
Finally she handed the dripping shirt back to Fang. "Wash your face," she told him.
He wiped the shirt over his whole face in one swipe. Then he turned the shirt over and wiped Max's face in three gentle, caressing strokes. "You really ought to let me wash your back, too," he said in a lulling voice, suppressing a smirk as he eyed her shirt.
"You're a beast," Max huffed and walked away.
"Does that mean, 'No?'" he asked, catching up to her.
Max refused to look at him or talk to him.
#####
When the forest station came into sight, Fang watched Max fly up to the top platform. She wordlessly disappeared behind a green metal door.
He climbed the ladder quickly. Now this is much higher than most forest stations I've seen. There's probably not any ranger who would even be fit enough to make it to the top of this ladder. But that's a good thing. I suppose there will be plenty of supplies here. Hopefully the kind that aren't supposed to fall into the wrong hands.
Once on the platform, he walked the perimeter of the station. It had a railing on all four sides except where the ladder was accessible. An extra foot of mesh wire extended beyond the railings to keep small gadgets from smashing to the ground if they were somehow dropped over the railing. Next to the green door was another ladder up to the top.
Fang leapt onto the roof of the station. A helicopter landing circle was painted on the sheet metal. At the west corner of the station, he jumped back onto the platform. Climbing over the railing, he sat on the ledge with his feet dangling and he stared into the colorful sky. It was transforming from broad orange hues to feathery pink strokes.
"Come and see this, Max," he said just loud enough for Max to hear.
The green metal door opened with a clang. The sound of birds flying out of nearby trees filled the air momentarily.
"Looking at the sunset," Max remarked. She climbed between the rails and plopped down next to Fang.
The bronze sunlight reflected off of Max's hair. Fang gazed at her. Then he leaned to her side and his mouth nearly grazed her ear with its wisps of bronzed hair falling around it.
She has no idea what she does to me when she looks like that, does she?
He moved closer to her and reached over to hold her hand. She didn't flinch when they touched.
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[FF PM] from: Eighthnote
Wed 12/31/08 12:25 PM
Profile: .net/u/1530412/
So good idea, having people PM you since we can't review. I really like the
rewrites - I wasn't sure what you were going to change originally, but now
that I'm reading it, I'm thrilled at all the differences. I especially like
that less of it is in third person. The parts where you do Fang's thoughts
are different from Max's thoughts so it's easy to see the difference between
their characters, something a lot of people forget. I can't wait to see what
else you change. I'll keep a closer lookout this time, promise.
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