Dudes...I'm sorry if this chapter lacks...luster, especially towards the end... I had a realllly crap day, and just...couldnt put my heart into it properly. Blame my dad having a shout at me for no real reason.

Job hunting. Guh. Kill me now.

Anyway, here it is, I'm trying not to lapse on these...

Also, the guy at the end is an impression of an english Chav, but colourful. And i didnt have time to reread this the seventy eleven times i usually do before posting, going out, thank GOD, or i might murderalise my dad...


dallascowboysncountrymusicfan: Yeeeeah, i really didn't like Lisa, being a diehard FAX fan. Therefore, she will be pushed away if i do a sequel, as will that Sam dude. Unless I need them for plot or something...i might be evil here...

CRAZY: thanks :) always nice to see a new reader.

happyasusual4: lol I try, I try...


Part 12

Fang was the first to wake the following morning. It was strange. Before the incident with the School she'd always been up at the crack of dawn, never much of a sleeper either. Now she seemed to be sleeping into a more normal time. The brain attacks must have taken more out of her than she thought.

Tilting his head up, he examined the sky as he let the events of the previous day run though his head. Lying low had been a major bust. He didn't remember anyone with cameras, but knowing this money-orientated world someone would have sold their 'experience' to the papers. They'd have to find somewhere to hide for a few days.

Just not in the subway tunnels.

Turning his head slightly, he could see Max sleeping peacefully against the tree trunk. She'd curled up and twisted to the side, so he could just see her hair-covered face and one of her arms. Her legs hung precariously off the edge of her branch, her fingers twitched very slightly. She was dreaming.

Fang smiled slightly. They'd need to find something reasonably nutritional today, even if it was fast food with that crappy salady stuff they used. Bread and peanuts wasn't exactly brilliant for your system, his stomach was already complaining. Deciding to let her sleep as long as she wanted, he turned back and leant his head against the tree once more, closing his eyes, letting his mind wander. But he found it continuously falling on the same thing again and again.

She'd called him her boyfriend.

He wasn't really sure why it was a big deal to him. He wanted to believe it wasn't, but it just wouldn't work the way he wanted it to. It played on his mind. She'd said 'We'll see'. Was she being playful, or did she really mean it? Sighing softly, he curled his legs up and held his legs to his chest, leaning his chin on his knees. He'd ask her later, when they found something to eat or when a better time came up.

Watching the birds fly overhead, he didn't have to wait long before Max stirred. His first indication of her waking was a curse word as she almost fell off her branch. Fang smirked slightly to himself, not moving an inch or even opening his eyes as she heard the rustling of branches.

"Morning," her soft, sleepy voice finally opening Fangs eyelids as he turned to look at her. She was now settled on the slightly smaller branch between them, her legs swinging in the air as she stretched. She had a small twig sticking out the top of her already tangled hair, her clothes even dirtier and grubbier than before.

Yet she looked beautiful

"Hey," he replied softly, turning slightly to look at her properly. She gave him a small, sleepy-contented smile as she held the branch beneath her, continuing to swing her legs absently. He gave her an adorable smile back, reaching forwards and pulling the twig from her hair. Max recoiled a little as she did so, a force of habit. Her turned the tiny twig over in his fingers, shrugged and flicked it to the floor before turning his attention back to Max.

"Might want to use the hairbrush," Fang commented, reaching out again to smooth her hair where the twig had been. "You look a bit tussled."

Max ran her fingers through her hair, where her fingers almost immediately got tangled in its knots. She sighed, thanking Fang as she took the brush he was now holding out to her and beginning to run it through her hair. It was easier this time, only a few days or dirt and drama having knotted it.

"I need to get this cut," she mumbled as she finished brushing it through, holding the brush out to Fang. He took it and slipped it back into his jumper pocket.

"Can have it done. We have money." He stated, looking back up at her. Max shook her head, looking out into the sky.

"Waste of money," she commented, her legs slowly coming to a stop as she focused on a bird in the distance, zooming in on it with her raptor vision "I can borrow those scissors when we find a mirror or something and hack most of it off." She looked back at Fang, who simply shrugged before looking at the bird she had been studying before. They stayed in silence for a few more seconds before Max broke the silence.

"You think we're mentioned in any newspapers or anything?" she mumbled, not taking her eyes off the bird.

"No idea," Fang replied, looking back at her. "Only one way to find out."

-

How she ended up carrying the piles of newspapers she really didn't know, but here she was, walking behind Fang with a pile of newspapers in her arms. They picked up one copy of each newspaper that they found a mention of them in, to study them further. If they knew what the public were looking for they could hide it.

Wings were an obvious one, but they hid those anyway.

Finally, after an hour of gathering the papers, Fang held the door open into a burger Café so Max could step inside. Flopping down in a booth by the emergency exit, she spread them over the table. Most of the newspapers had a single fuzzy image of them flying out of the building on the front page, apparently taken by a tourist who was 'in the right place at the right time'.

Thankfully, she hadn't been in a hot air balloon at the time. The picture was fuzzy. The two flying kids could easily be a trick on the computer or just a dodgy photo of two birds. Max sighed softly. It could have been much worse than it was.

Fang returned to the table with a tray of burgers, fries, ice creams and jumbo drinks, settling down next to Max and scanning the newspapers as he unwrapped a burger and sank his teeth into it. Max reached for a pack of fries, nibbling on one as Fang swallowed.

"Not particularly bad then. Not clear images." He commented before taking another large bite. That burger didn't stand a chance.

"Problem is the descriptions," Max added as she flipped a couple of paged into one of the newspapers. After a few seconds scanning the page, she pointed to a paragraph in the more detailed overview of the event. He leant closer, finishing off the first burger with one more mouthful.

"'I was there' said a Mrs. Arbleberry, 59. '"We saw them come in. They looked scraggy, like pigeons off the street, but convinced the waiter to give them a seat. Soon after the manager went to deal with them. Riff-raff causing trouble, we assumed. Then the police turned up, and cornered them. That's when the boy jumped onto the table and leapt up higher. We all thought we'd drunk too much when he unfurled some dirty great wings and flew straight through the skylight. The girl wasn't far behind, stealing a basket of bread as she followed."

Everyone who were in the restaurant and many passers-by claimed to see the same sight. Two flying teenagers. Police artists drew renditions of the two from descriptions given by patrons who saw them, shown on page six…'

Max was digging into a burger as Fang flipped to page 6 of the newspaper. The pictured were not particularly accurate, but they were close enough for someone who got too close to recognise them. Fang slouched back in his chair slightly, shoving a handful of fries into his mouth. Max looked over his shoulder at the pictures.

"Wow, do I look like that?" Max asked before taking another bite of her burger.

"Prettier," Fang answered, keeping his attention on his fries. Max could feel her cheeks burning as she looked at him in surprise, but his attention remained on the food. He'd probably do something stupid if he looked at her, so he decided against it. Max took it confusedly, but kept silent. The two ate in silence for a little longer, mulling over their options.

"What do you think of this Institute thing?" she finally broke the silence as she reached for a second pack of fries. Fang shrugged, still working his way though the pack in his hand.

"Didn't seem to be anything here," he stated. "Though they were very protective of the supposedly non-existent basement." Max nodded thoughtfully, chewing on a few fries at a time.

"Do you think its worth going back?" Fang looked at her, swallowing the last of his fries before speaking.

"Unless we can find a way into the basement without going in the main doors, not really." Fang said, unwrapping a burger. "That and there might be nothing there at all."

"True…"

After finishing his burgers and fries, Fang started playing with the ice cream in the tiny serving tub, swirling the spoon around to mix the little piece of chocolate into the ice cream itself.

"I think," he paused to examine the liquidy substance on his spoon. "That we should find some new clothes, and get away for a few days, let the excitement die down." He put the spoon in his mouth as he looked at Max, who seemed to be staring out the window mulling something over.

"Good idea," she said finally, reaching for her own ice cream. "Change of appearance and time for the media to give up. Works for me."

-

Finding a clothes shop was surprisingly hard for the pair, especially when they daren't not stop and ask for directions in case people recognised their hazy faces and announced their existence to the world. Max had the hood of her jacket she'd sworn to hack off over her face, Fang just let his hair hand over his features as they walked briskly along the city streets.

Max didn't like having her hood up, it obscured the three-sixty view she desired when she turned her head. It wasn that she didn't trust Fang to do it well, but that it was a security she liked, to be able to do it as well.

Four raptor eyes were better than two.

Their hands were clasped together between them as the pushed their way through the hoards of people. Fang was bringing up the front again. People seemed to part in front of him rather than having to jostle them out of the way.

Probably his eyes, Max thought to herself, silently grateful if it was his eyes, that they had such a useful effect. They scoured the streets trying to find their way through the sea of city goers and get to anywhere that sold clothes. Unfortunately, they weren't having much luck at the moment. The stores were either ridiculously expensive, or weren't even a clothes shop. Heck of a lot of café's though.

Fang was beginning to get bored with the wandering, and seriously considering just going to a really expensive place. Max didn't want to, something to do with no idea on how much money was on her card. Made sense, they didn't know its limit, they should use it wisely, but he was seriously considering it. He also considered stopping and asking for directions. Wasn't likely someone would recognise them after all, but the small risk still evident was stopping him.

Behind him, Max was doing yet another three-sixty. Wasn't much else to do when you're just following someone through a crowd. He eyes were quickly drawn back behind her, checking she'd seen what her brain told her she had.

Crap. Two supermodels were following them.

She gave Fang's hand a gentle squeeze, and he looked around at her quizzically. She discretely nodded over her shoulder, trying not to be too obvious about it. Fang caught on and took a casual glance, spotting the supermodels as quickly as Max had.

Tightening his hand on hers Fang instantly started running, ploughing his way through the masses, searching for a side road to run down. Max was keeping up, daring not to look back as they shot between streets and shops, down side roads, jumping over ridiculously small dogs. Finally, they saw something useful.

"In the Mall!" Max shouted over the wind rushing past her ears. Fang had already seen it. A huge glass and white plastic-looking metal structure a few minutes run from where they were. He gave her hand a small squeeze in response, making a bee-line for it through the crowds ahead of them. As they got closer to the building, Max dared a look around.

The supermodels were gone.

Fang didn't look back as he rocketed through the automatic doors of the Mall, pushing and weaving through people. His aim was to get to the back. They always had two exits to these please, right? Then they could use it as an escape route.

"Fang!" Max's voice finally made it into his slightly panicked brain and he swung his head round, fearing the worst.

"They're gone," she continued, letting him drag her further into the Mall as he checked for himself. She was right, the supermodels were no where in sight. He let his step slow, feeling his heartbeat at its shocking level for the first time. His legs shook a little, a combination of running and adrenaline.

"I think they were really just supermodels…" Max mumbled softly, and Fang couldn't help but smile at her.

"Better safe than sorry," he said, silently cursing when he realised he'd just uttered a Jeb catchphrase. Max smiled back, an apology he didn't think necessary in her eyes, and probably on her lips as she opened her mouth.

"Wow, kids, did someone throw you in a garbage truck?" The voice was loud and happy. Fang looked up to see a boy…or man, he couldn't quite tell, dressed in a brightly coloured tracksuit and a bright red cap turned half sideways.

Fang assessed the boy as Max gave herself a quick once-over. Her nice new clothes had random rips in them, probably from falling out of that tree or sleeping on a grimy cement step in the under city. The were also stained in a variety of different colours, minus her shirt. That had been protected by her jumper, that was beginning to look very unhappy.

Looking up, she noticed Fang himself didn't look much better off. His jeans had so many holes it was a surprise they didn't just fall apart, being held up only by the belt around his tiny middle. His jumper was really dirty, covered in muck and grime and dirt from the under city. Her estimate was his shirt could probably kill a few people by now.

He was too wrapped up in running his eyes over the brightly coloured guy to really look himself over. The guy's smile remained even under Fang's ice stare, which was always a good sign. He didn't look like an eraser either.

He didn't think even the school could convince them to wear that crap.

"S'up?" Came Fang's very short reply. Max rolled her eyes behind him.

"Yo, dark dude, you think you and your bird would, like, want a makeover?" He still had a smile plastered on his face, a notepad was suddenly whipped out of his pocket and into his hand, a pen in another. "We've a few, like, free slots Man."

"Sorry," Fang waved him off haphazardly. "We don't have any money, even I-"

"Don't cost nuffin'" the lad continued, flicking through his pad a few seconds. "An' we has hair stylin' and clothin' an accessories that'll make you an' your bird here unrecognisable. Even to your parents."

Max was trying not to snigger at the appropriateness of being referred to as a 'bird', even if she was offended by him assuming she was Fang's apparent possession. Fang's eyebrow shot up at the last second.

"Unrecognisable, eh?" he queried, shooting Max a glance.

"Yeah dude, we can do anything' you wants doin', extras will be charged though…" the little clerk continued, pen poised to write their names down.

"We'll do it," Fang finally decided, taking yet another look at Max. She looked kind of…well, he expected to see annoyance, as he'd just decided she was getting a new look. Instead, she looked quite happy with the idea, even if Fang had decided on it without her.

"Duuuuude, you wont regret it! We got stylists ready to do something' drastic with that hair o' yours, Man, it needs loppin' off. An your gal will look good in 'eels an' shorter 'air."

Max immediately held her hands up. "No way! Gotta be practical, and I'm keeping the combat boots." She instructed the boy, who simply nodded away.

"Sure Babe, you can 'ave whatever you want, your style. We'll be there to guide you." Fang just shrugged his shoulders. He didn't mind having his hair cut, it was annoying him anyway.

But if they tried to dress him in anything brightly coloured, they wouldn't be able to sit down for a week.