"Max? Max? Are you even listening to me?" Nudge demanded impatiently. We were in her hotel room, sitting on the beds. Angel was stroking Total, who was sitting on her lap.

"Of course," I said absentmindedly, still pondering what I should do about Fang.

"Then what did I just say?" she asked, triumphant.

"She doesn't know," Angel answered for me. "She was busy thinking about Fang."

"Angel!" I scolded, avoiding Nudge's gasp. "How many times do I have to tell you? Don't read my mind! It's rude and I might not want you to know everything I think."

"Sorry, Max," she said, shamefaced. Of course she was – for now. Shed be at it again tomorrow.

"I was saying," Nudge continued, "When are we gonna eat?"

I checked my watch. It was six thirty. "I guess we could eat now," I shrugged.

Nudge pumped a fist in the air. "Yes!"

"What do you want to eat, then?" I asked, getting up from Nudge's bed and stretching. I had been so comfy, too.

She thought. "Pizza!"

"What kind?" I asked, resigned. Pizza for us was expensive. We'd need about a large pizza each for all of us to be full. How much were they again? Not cheap, I knew.

"Sausage," she said decisively.

"Pepperoni," called Angel and Total together as I walked out the connecting door separating them from Iggy and Gazzy.

"Ig! Gazzy! Pizza requests," I said over the noise of the basketball game they were staring at.

Iggy turned his eyes toward mine. "Mmm…I say sausage."

"Same," said Gazzy, his eyes never leaving the television. I rolled my eyes at his…guy-ness and went back to my room.

Fang was lying on the foot of his bed, writing something in a notebook. "Hey, Fang, what type of pizza?" I asked, coming in. Oh. Was that a moment I wrecked there? Call me Miss Discreet.

He looked up quickly and shut the notebook, as if he was five and caught with his hand in the cookie jar. "What?" He tried to say smoothly. I wasn't in the mood to interrogate him about his notebook just now. He was lucky I didn't feel like revenge for accusing me of flirting.

"I said what pizza toppings do you want? We're ordering in," I replied, lying down next to him and blowing out a breath.

"Anchovies," he said.

"Seriously, Fang. You're not still mad at me or something, are you?" I asked, shoving him lightly.

He shoved me back, but gentle enough that I wouldn't fall off the edge of the bed. "Nope. I'm not mad right now. I want pepperoni." I caught that right now, mister.

"M-kay." I made a move to get up to call, but Fang touched my arm. "Lay still for a minute. Relax. That's why we're here."

"I know, I'm trying, but-" I blew out a frustrated breath – "I can't just stay in one spot. I keep checking on everyone, or thinking of Itex, or planning what to do next, or-" I was about to say, "Thinking of what to do with you," but I caught myself just in time.

He draped his arm across my back, making it hard to concentrate. "I understand now," Fang said. "I get what it's like to try to – to situate everyone, to lead them, keep them safe. It's not as easy as you make it look, I'll admit that. You know what? I definitely wanted you back then. And not just because I wanted you to lead."

I cupped my chin in my hands. It was getting easier to relax just now. "So you really are sorry you left."

"Really," he said earnestly. Our eyes locked. His hand was still on my back. I couldn't move away as he leaned closer –

"Hey, Max! Did you order the pizza yet?" called Gazzy. Aaand relax time goes 'poof!' Way to wreck the moment, Gazzy.

I blinked and finally looked away. Fang moved his arm and moved away as well. "Not yet, Gasman, hold on," I called back. I rolled off the bed and picked up the phone directory. "Where should we order pizza from?" I asked Fang.

"Pizza Hut," he replied. Was that disappointment in his expression? Or was it just me?

"Pizza Hut it is, then," I said, dialing the number. I punched in the last number with a dramatic flourish.

I ordered our pizza fast and prayed for a female delivery person. I didn't think I could stand another 'flirting' episode. I lay down on my own bed this time, and flicked on the T.V. "What do you wanna watch?" I asked Fang.

"Anything unless it's sappy."

"Will do…" I flipped to the comedy channel. God knows we needed a laugh. Comedy Central will definitely do that for you. Soon even Fang was laughing at the crazy skits they came up with on this one show.

A knock echoed through our room. "Pizza!" Oh, thank God! It was a girl! What do you know? God does answer prayers.

"Your turn," I said to Fang. "Get the door for me, would you?" He obeyed, a first for the day. On second thought, telling him to get the door probably wasn't such a good idea, but too late.

As soon as he pulled open the door, I could see from my spot on the bed that I was right. I had a problem. The delivery girl looked like an older version of Lissa, for Pete's sake! She even flipped her hair over her shoulder the same way – wavy, long red hair that was nearly perfect and not matted like mine had been. Yep, she and Lissa – beautiful, long hair, slim yet curvy, human: the kind of person I wasn't and never could be. Not even the uniform she wore could hide that.

God has the sickest sense of humor.

"You ordered six large pizzas?" she clarified, flashing a white, even smile. Oh, yay. Another good quality. Why was I getting so freaking jealous?

"Yeah," Fang said. I came up behind him. You know, just in case she worked for Itex or something and he needed backup.

What? Quit looking at me that way.

She handed three pizzas to him and three to me. I shoved some money into her hand and hoped she would go away. She did, with one last dazzling smile. I shut the door, maybe a little too happily.

"What's up, Max? Afraid of a delivery girl? Or just jealous of every girl who looks like Lissa?" Fang teased. So he'd noticed who she looked like too. Was that good or bad? Oh, but for that little comment: he was so dead. I'd get him back later.

"I had the money. What were you expecting to pay her with? An excuse?" Oh! Burn! Fang – zero, Max – one!

"My good looks."

"You're a riot," I said sarcastically. I headed to the girls' room to give them their pizza. Total pouted when he had to share with Angel, but they would both get over it. If Total wanted human food, he couldn't complain about how much he got.

I sank my teeth into the thickest piece of pizza I'd ever had as soon as I was back in my room. Chicago pizza is BIG. I've heard even some human eaters who eat a lot can only eat three or four pieces. But I'm not human, so more for me!

Fang checked his blog while he plowed through his own pizza. I put on the Flock's iPod and enjoyed a moment of peace.

"Uh, Max?" said Fang. "I think you ought to see this."

And the moment of peace was suddenly gone. What can I do to just stay STILL for a few seconds, people?

"What?" I asked, abandoning my spot reluctantly and coming over to him. He pointed to the screen silently. Words weren't needed for this.

The images that we had thought were linked to my chip were flashing at light speed across the screen. This time, they were different: mutants marching in the prison yard at the Itex in Germany, Roland ter Borcht – I clenched my fists at the sight of the man – and mutants, dead, their bodies cast aside like trash. Finally it settled on words.

-Hello, Flock.-

Itex was haunting us again.

A/N: So how'd you like it? I told you it would start off a little slow, but now we're getting somewhere! Here's where the real story starts.

I'm trying to keep Fang in character, but after MR3, it got extremely hard to figure out his character and know what he would and wouldn't do. So please forgive me if he's extremely OOC.

Twenty four reviews on the first two chapters alone! I've never gotten that many before: keep it up!