I know I said no more A/N's for a while, but I'll be super-quick. THANK YOU FOR ALL YOUR REVIEWS. THEY'VE BEEN AMAZING. I LOVE YOU ALL :D

And we've finally reached over 500. This is INSANE. WAYYY more than I ever expected. So thanks.

There. Done.

Was that quick or WHAT?

The Base

All of a sudden, I stiffened. This place… it looked familiar. Anastasia seemed to realize it the same time as I did.

"You brought us back here?" she said incredulously. "To the Base? Tee, it's been completely ruined. Gazzy blew it up. What're you bringing us here for?"

"Shut up," he ordered. "And you'll find out sooner or later."

"Sooner, most likely," muttered the Eraser on my left, grinning toothily, leering at me.

I drew back sharply, revolted. A chorus of laughs erupted from around me.

"And… here we go."

We had reached a stretch of nothing but cracked floor tiles, and I bit my lip to stop myself from saying something out of line. Anastasia, of course, couldn't help herself.

"Are you kidding me?" she burst out. "If this is your idea of–"

Subject twenty-seven flashed her a glare. It read: do you want to die?

Apparently she didn't. Her mouth snapped shut, but her eyes still flickered with fury, disbelief. A week ago – was it really only a week? – she was on their side. Now, they were holding guns to her head, and threatening her life.

"Go."

An Eraser dropped to his feet, and scrambled around for a couple of seconds, before pressing his nose against a stub in the ground, whereupon a blinking red light – the size of a large coin, or the circumference of a Pritt stick – appeared. Following this, Tee pushed past him and shoved his thumb into the light.

A dull, female voice, the type you hear on voicemails, intoned, "Fingerprint confirmed. Fingerprint confirmed. Subject twenty-seven, mutant, 49.5% human, 20% timber wolf, 5% Bengal tiger, 15% vampire bat, 5% Javan rhinoceros, 5.5% American bullfrog. Subject twenty-seven. Access granted. Access granted."

At this, I couldn't help letting out a snigger. And I had been doing so well with keeping my mouth shut.

"Vampire bat?" I said. "Really, Tee? And 15%'s pretty massive."

He glowered. "Scared?"

I mock-shuddered. "Terrified."

Anastasia couldn't help herself, either. "Bullfrog?"

"Okay," he snapped. "One more word, and I don't care anymore. Screw research. I'm blowing your heads off, and then we're going back for your precious flock."

That shut us up all right.

Below us, one huge floor tile began to lift, then slide away to reveal an opening. It was nothing like I'd expected to be. The interior was sterile, smelling horribly of the School, lit bright with overhead lights, and, naturally, white.

We walked down a few steps, upon which the ground beneath us stretched to a wide corridor. Then, we were forced into a sealed white room with no exits whatsoever – meaning no transformations back into my favourite mosquito –, where the only air we breathed was already inside. Granted, it was a pretty huge room, but still. Had they taken us from certain death up in the cave to suffocate us? Was it more in style?

As if in answer to my question, Subject twenty-seven said, "There are oxygen canisters lining the wall back there, so if you run out of air, get over there."

So they don't want to kill us, I thought.

But they want to keep us in a room with no exits, Anastasia thought back instantly. No escape.

"You guys have fun," called out Subject twenty-seven, and the Erasers who had come down with us jeered and laughed.

"Oh, we will," shot back Anastasia. "And you go have fun with all your bullfrog friends. Tell them I say ribbet. Now, can you do us a favour, and just leave? Or just croak, and make the world a better place."

My eyes widened. That was a good one. Croak. Tied in with the whole bullfrog thing, and also meant die. Very clever.

Thanks, she thought, somewhat proudly.

You're getting better, I replied, but I still remain the unbeaten insult master.

Insult master? Whatev–

"You think you're so funny, don't you?" he snarled, interrupting us. "Well, all I've got to say is, let's see who's laughing tomorrow morning."

And the huge metal door fell shut before either of us could say anything more.

Anastasia woke me up early the following day, rushing into my dreams. My eyes slid slowly open.

Get up, she thought. I can hear them coming.

I moaned. Why can't I wait a couple more seconds?

Do you want to be waken up with a boot in your face? she asked.

This, it had to be said, was a good point.

Fine. I'm up.

A moment later, there was a metallic screeching noise as the door began to lift. And, standing there, were Subject twenty-seven and my two escorts from last night.

"Missed an old friend?" he asked Anastasia, and held up the gun.

"So do we get meals here?" I said conversationally. "Because we'd really like a nice old British toad-in-the-hole."

He scowled. "Get your asses up. Someone wants to see you."

"Who could that possibly be?" Anastasia retorted. "The Queen? Or maybe even the Princess who kissed the frog…?"

His face turned a deep shade of umber, bordering on purple. I was enjoying this.

"Cat got your tongue, Tee?" I smirked. "But no. Don't toads have abnormally long tongues? Then again, I guess you're no ordinary toad. You're a toad mutant. One in a million."

He said only two words. "Get up."

Somehow they forced us up – the gun was involved – and then we began to walk down the long, bright white corridor until we had reached an important-looking door at the very end.

"So who lives here?" I joked. "All your mutant tadpoles?"

His scowl twisted horribly, flashing rows of sharp teeth, and then he rapped his knuckles three times against the door.

The robot voice again. "State your identity and purpose."

"Subject twenty-seven. Mutant. 49.5% human, 20% timber wolf, 5% Bengal tiger, 15% vampire bat, 5% Javan rhinoceros, and–" He glared at us. "–5.5% American bullfrog. I've brought the two Subject elevens."

A red light flashed on a screen, and he pressed his thumb up against it.

"Scanning. Scanning." A pause. "Access granted. Access granted."

The door swung open, and there, sitting behind a sleek white desk, was none other than the person I loathed most in the world.

"Hello Angel, Anastasia," said the Superior, smiling.

Fang POV

"Gazzy?" I hissed, facing her. "Are you surethis is a good idea?"

She glared unflinchingly back at me. "Fang. There's nothing I can do. He's going to come, no matter what I say."

"But he's…" I struggled to find the right word. "Unstable."

"I can't physically get someone to keep him here," she said. "And one more person's not gonna hurt."

"But d'you want him getting hurt?" I questioned. "Because this is the Gasman we're talking about. Nothing's gonna matter to him more than killing this Subject guy. It's gonna get him hurt, dead, or messed up."

"I know," she said quietly. "But he's, what, eighteen now? He's a big kid. He'll be fine. I was four years younger than he is now when I had to fight Omega, remember?"

I rolled my eyes. "But you're Max."

This caused her to blink slowly up at me, and smile.

I looked right back, taking in all of her, just like I always did. Her flyaway hair, the colour she called dirty blonde, but which always reminded me of the colour of the chocolate chip cookies Dr. Martinez always made, minus the chocolate chips; her brown eyes, currently trained on my face, ever the same; the curving slope of her pale, rounded nose; and, finally, her mouth.

God, I loved that mouth.

Which is why, an instant later, my thumb was tracing lazy circles over it, and she was taking in a shuddery breath. Then I couldn't wait anymore, and I was kissing her, the way I always did, starting off slow and gentle, and then–

Iggy cleared his throat loudly.

Max stiffened, blushing crimson and jerking her head away. I pulled back my own head reluctantly, annoyed. It was just getting good.

Who was I kidding.

With Max, it was always good.

"Are you guys going, or what?" he asked.

"Sure," spluttered Max. "I… uh, we…"

She was so damn cute when she was flustered.

"If you want," he offered, "I can go instead of Gazzy."

"I heard that," snapped the Gasman, storming towards us. "And you can't keep me from going, Max. I'm legally–"

"An adult now," finished Iggy. "Yeah, we know. Heard it a million times. But they're just going fishing for clues. That's it. They're not gonna be down there, Gaz. No-one is. Ever since you blew it up, it's like a freaking wasteland."

"So what d'you want me to do, Ig?" he flared up. "Stay here and act daddy to your kid?"

Iggy flinched. "Look, there's no need to–"

"Guys," Max cut in. "Quit it. Okay, Gazzy, you can come. But as long as you do what I say, 24-7. You want me to repeat that?"

He shook his head. "Gotcha loud and clear."

"Iggy, I want you to stay with Nudge," she went on. "Look after her, Total and the guy- I'm sorry! Tiger."

He nodded.

"And when Total gets up," she said, "Make sure to kill him personally from me. Tell him if there's ever another fight like last night, I want him to run. Or fly. Whatever's convenient. Just get the hell out. Then get him feeling better."

"And what about the…"

He didn't have to finish. We all knew he meant Angel's message.

She hesitated. "Show it to him. It'll mean a lot. Then let him brood for a while, and afterwards… well. Anyone have a secret talent for chocolate-chip-cookie-baking?"

For some reason, she glanced towards Gazzy as she said this.

"Well." She manages another tiny smile. "Bye, then."

Nudge tries to smile back. "Tally-ho."

I wanted to try and lighten the atmosphere. But then, it wasn't very à la Fang.

Max made up for it, though, and touched the top of Tiger's head fondly. "Hasta la vista, baby."

"Be back soon," said Iggy.

"Sure," said Max.

Gazzy and I just stood on the sidelines; Gazzy was itching to leave, I was just waiting patiently for Max, and slowly fading into the background.

And when she finally furled her wings wide and strong and ready, we took this as our cue to leave, and pitched ourselves over the side of the cliff, heading for a place all of us wanted nothing but to forget.