A/N I: My apologies this chapter took so long! At first I really wasn't in the mood to write, then I went back and rewrote part of it, and then the document manager wouldn't work, but now I've finally got it up and loaded!

Chapter III: Day Trip

As the sun spilled through the blindless windows of the old warehouse, Fang couldn't help but curse God for creating such a spiteful object.

With a low groan, he pulled a blanket over his head, but of course, it only fixed part of the problem. The sun still shown through the blanket's thin threading (as if they could afford any better). Fang had to admit though, it was better than nothing. And anyway, as it was he could go on hating the sun as he pleased.

Well, it wasn't the sun it's self that was really the problem. It was it's early wake up call that was the cause of Fang's (not to mention the rest of the Flock's) distress. Every morning, at the crack of dawn the fiery orange ball would oh-so-rudely announce it's presence with light so bright it left white dots across one's vision, long before anyone could get a proper night's sleep. Though he'd learned a cup of sugar and coffee (there was much too much sugar in it to call it the reverse) could usually make up for lost sleep time for the first few hours, but after a while came the eventual crash when the caffeine wore off. (Not at all convenient.) Really it was preferable to just try and wake up by one's self, when Max wasn't breathing down your throat.

Max was forever in a hurry that never seemed to come. There was really nothing to do, yet she acted as if she had some master list of things to do a foot long. But what was on that list, Fang had no idea. Really, all they did was eat, sleep and take a few weekly trips into the inner city for groceries and what not. Those were the only days that it seemed anyone truly woke up, because they were the only days anyone could really look forward to.

Other than that, the highlight of Fang's day was pretty much going to sleep. Which really wasn't part of his day in the first place, but who really cared anyhow?

"Mmm..." Max moaned in her sleep. Moans, snores, grunts and groans were pretty common from her cot, which she attributed to vivid, almost-real dreams. But odd noises wasn't all that slipped from her mouth in her sleep. Sometimes she talked too (more or less often it was a four letter word that caused Gazzy to giggle with hysterics and Nudge to clamp her hands over Angel's ears), though no matter how often Fang or Iggy (or anyone for that matter) told her, she'd always brush them off with a casual laugh and a "No, I don't!" Of course, she did. Whether she liked it or not.

"Colorado..." There she goes again, he thought to himself. He wondered what she could possibly be dreaming about that'd involve Colorado, but then decided that was much too broad a topic to explore for the time being.

Fang supposed it wouldn't be long before her sweet murmuring turned to rampant screaming, even though Max had always been one of those take charge, get going people, but lately she'd become a time bomb. Everything set her off, everything. Nudge chewing with her mouth open, Fang's complaining, Gazzy's smell, Fang's odd need for a life that didn't simply consist of obeying her every will, Angel's doting on all creatures small and furry, Fang's attitude, Iggy's night owlishness, Fang and anything to do with Fang, among other things, would set off a huge explosion of screaming and shouting that would only subside after hours of angry simmering and boiling. Honestly, Fang liked Max better when she was asleep.

In the distance, Fang could hear the sirens of an ambulance blaring. Which meant only one thing, another battered housewife, another robbery, another stabbing, another shooting, another drug addict gone down the drain. Just a typical, cheerful New York morning.

Ever since coming to New York, innocence seemed to have flown out the window. Angel's sweet naivety, her belief that everyone was a good person, was slowly being chipped away. In New York, they'd been exposed to so much more than they'd ever been exposed to before. Drug addicts, drunks, drag queens, streakers, street musicians, and gang members, the type of people that had almost seemed mystical in Colorado, where the closest thing they got to other human interaction was Google searches on the topic.

The other day, for example, a drunk had come stumbling down the street preaching about the birds and the bees. It was almost sickening, the type of pleasure he seemed to get from slurring his way through an impromptu sex-ed class. He'd peered down at small children and ask them in a sweet sing-songy voice, "Do you know what Mommy does at night sweetheart?"

When the child answered (usually it was a shell-shocked stare, a shake of the head or the obvious answer, "she sleeps,") he'd give a sort of gurgle-cackle before looking back down into those big round eyes and say, "I'll tell you what Mommy really does..."

Usually at this point the child had already been dragged away by frantic mothers, of course in Angel's case she'd been out with Gazzy and Max (Fang and the others had been on a mission to find a sanitary, slightly used copy of the New York Times in a trash can), so it took a minute for Max to finally realize exactly what was happening. Unfortunately, by then Angel had already answered with "I don't have a Mommy.", leading the drunk to say "You got a Daddy?" When she again answered no he said, "You wanna know where you came from, little girl?" Thankfully, Max intervened at that point.

Overall, New York really wasn't the place to be raising any kid, especially without a proper home. Colorado wasn't either, the isolation was no better than the over exposure. Then again, thinking it over, the life they lived was no way to raise any kid.

"Total..." It was Max again.

In response to Max's unconscious call, Total let out a low whine.

Realizing he'd probably be blamed if Total wasn't let out, Fang yawned and stretched his legs, pulling the blanket back down below his chin. Lo and behold, there was Total. Licking his face.

"Oh, god," He groaned, pushing the hyperactive puppy away from his bed.

With heavily lidded eyes, Fang swung his legs over the side of the bed and managed to pull himself upright. He scooped up the yapping dog in his arms and shuffled over to the collapsed in doorway. He tied a bit of cord around Total's collar and shoved the nuisance under the curtain, hoping that would take care of whatever the problem was.

"Good morning, Sunshine," Fang nearly jumped out of skin at the sound of Iggy's voice from behind him. True, Iggy was usually the first up of all of them, but Fang hadn't even been thinking about him at the time.

"Don't do that!" Fang cried, doing a quick turn on his heel to find Iggy rooting through the food bag. Which seemed to be very empty, judging by the deep frown spelt across his face.

Just as he had in Colorado, Iggy made the food. Max (still) could not be trusted to create something edible, and Fang had no interest in the craft, so to avoid starvation Iggy did what he could to create some-what nutritious, not-at-all well balanced meals for the group. Most consisted of cheetos and what not, but he tried.

"Sorry," Iggy replied off handedly with his head still stuck in the burlap sack. He rooted around for a second or two more, and then, finally, with a puzzled look upon his face he pulled his face out of the burlap sack. His eyes, though sightless, immediately flickered up to Fang and as they did, a small, almost mischievous, smile broke out across his face.

"Here, take a seat," he said, patting the upturned milk crate as he did. For a second, a split-second, Fang just stood there, staring at his friend. His mind racing, and his pulse going right along with it.

It wasn't that there was anything wrong with Iggy, far from it. There was something wrong with him. Because when Iggy said that, an odd thought had hit him. A ridiculous, impossible thought, but a thought none the less. Could all this seemingly friendly intent really be something more?

Of course, it was ridiculous. It couldn't possibly be- even if it was- Iggy wasn't like that- not that he wanted it- or maybe he-

Breathe, he reminded himself, breathe.

Realizing that he was being rude, Fang quietly took the seat offered to him. By that time, Iggy had gone back to his rooting, seeing as Fang had momentarily gone a bit mental.

"How's breakfast going?" He asked finally, peeking over Iggy's shoulder.

"Not well, unless you want to eat some stale bread," the blonde replied, tossing a bagged, loaf of bread over his shoulder. Fang caught it, but before he could even undo the tie he was already disgusted. The coloring, the texture, it wasn't at all right for bread. Maybe for sand, but not bread.

"Looks like we'll be heading in today," Fang sighed in a tired way, but as he did, a small smile crossed his lips. It'd been far too long since he'd been to Times Square and he was overdue for a Starbucks.

"Looks like it," Iggy said in agreement.

"Yep,"

The pair sat in silence for a minute, Fang trying to figure out something clever and witty to say, and Iggy in seemingly deep thought. It was an odd thing, that Fang was feeling. It was as if he wanted– needed– impress Iggy, but at the same time, he'd known Iggy all his life, what need was there for him to try and impress him?

Fang opened his mouth, still thinking of something to say, but before the words could come out, Iggy interrupted.

"Fang," He said, swerving his body to face his friend, "I want to talk to you about something." His voice was quiet and breathy, almost inaudible.

"What? What's wrong?" Their knees were touching, and their faces were inches apart, literally. Momentarily, Fang had the urge to wrap his arms around Iggy, but he quickly suppressed the notion and kept his hands well to himself.

"Fang, I-"

Whatever it was, it would have to wait. Because Max had woken up.

"Breakfast?" She asked hopefully, trailing out of her cot in a dazed, sleepy manor. She stumbled over a few sparse sleeping bags scattered along the way before managing to drag herself up behind the two. Like Fang, the mornings were not her best time. Her hair was standing at a 90 degree angel to her head, and her eyelids were drooping with sleep.

She didn't look at all reminiscent of their make over day two months before. The pink had faded (much to her happiness) and her hair was just as tangled and long as ever. The same went for most of the flock, who's fresh, new looks had worn away very quickly. Nudge's roots were now a good two inches long, and the blue tips of Gazzy's hair now touched his shoulders. The same would have gone for Iggy, if Nudge had not been going through a beautician phase and re-dyed Iggy's hair a darker shade of red (he was the only one who trusted her enough to let her even touch a bottle of hair dye). It fit him quite well, really. Though, Fang had to admit, it was hard to get used to seeing him with darker hair.

Fang and Iggy had both allowed their hair to grow long and tangled, because Max's one cut fits all style really wasn't suiting them anymore. Admittedly, theirs didn't grow quite as long or fast as Gazzy's, but it grew. It tickled their chins and by now, they could tuck it behind their ears if necessary. Quite a change to Max's buzz cut fetish. (A good one at that.) And Angel? Well, she still looked like Angel. Just as sugary sweet and innocent as ever.

In a rare moment where she wasn't upset or nagging at something (read: someone named Fang), Max actually seemed quite friendly, though it was a stretch for Fang to put that word with her name.

"You like stale bread?" Iggy answered, taking the stale loaf from Fang's hands and giving it a toss.

In slight disgust, Max undid the tie and took a whiff of the bread it's self. She crinkled her nose and replied, "Not really." before tossing it aside like sack of potatoes. Fang didn't know what she was thinking, but honestly Total wouldn't even eat that crap. They might as well have burned it, because there was nothing better to do with it. Besides, it would be more exciting then sitting there and staring at it.

"Looks like we'll be heading in to the city today," Fang said, letting just a hint of excitement show. Inside, he'd already made a list of things to do. Time Square, see if he could maybe get on TRL? Bookstore, maybe hit a Starbucks while he was at it. He needed to get an up to date copy of the New York Times too. There was so much to do!

For a split second, Max almost seemed to smile. Which was just weird, for her to show any hint of human emotion aside from anger. Fang could remember back when they'd been living with Jeb (bastard that he was) she'd been much quicker to smile, to laugh. Then again, they all had been.

"Yeah, I guess we are." She replied, the corners of her mouth uplifted ever so much. It made a world of a difference.

"Gazzy's going to scream when he hears that." Iggy laughed, and it was true. Gazzy was absolutely fascinated with inner-city New York. The billboards, the shops, the food, the culture, the people, it was all so new and different to him that the young boy couldn't help but try and gulp everything in at once with wide, saucer eyes. Angel and Nudge were much the same, though Gazzy seemed to be the most extreme of the three.

"He's going to scream when he hears what?" A sleepy eyed Nudge asked. With her hair tousled the way it was, and the dazed look in her big, brown eyes, she somewhat resembled Celeste. Minus the robe and halo.

"Guess where we're going!" Iggy answered excitedly, he looked a bit like a rabbit to be honest, hyperactive and overexcited. But that was okay, because someone had to exert some kind of energy or nothing would ever happen.

"Where?" Nudge's brain seemed to still be in sleep mode.

"The city!"

As Iggy had predicted (though on the wrong person, he had still predicted it) she let out a screechy squeal of complete and utter joy. "I can't wait! Can we go to Time Square? I haven't been there in forever! And I really want to visit the record store too! I've been looking in the newspaper and there's going to be a sale today, and I really want a new CD! I mean, all we have is Iggy's hippie music and those weird albums that Fang likes." She exclaimed, the words tumbling out of her mouth quickly.

"Hey! Where did you two get those anyway?"

"What CD would you get?" Max asked politely, gently moving the topic away from Fang's brief (emphasis on brief) stint as shoplifter. True, he hadn't been caught by anyone, and as far as anyone knew he'd bought it fair and square. But Max wasn't that stupid, she knew he hadn't that much money. Because that day he'd returned home with two new CDs, a new coat and a CD player for the flock to share. The coat and CD player he'd bought himself, but the albums had been a five-finger discount. But it wasn't like he'd done anything too bad, they were on discount in the first place. And he'd left a buck in the tip jar to thank the Virgin Mega-Store for allowing him the opportunity to steal from them.

"I don't know! But definitely nothing like what we have now. I mean, I tried listening to Iggy's music and I just got confused, all the words were..." Nudge took a momentary pause to search for the proper words, "They were just really weird. Like there was this one, and it just didn't make any sense! It was just a bunch of random stuff, like about eggs and Tuesdays and walruses and cornflakes and knickers and vans and all sorts of stuff!"

"Was the song, by chance, called 'I Am the Walrus'?" Iggy asked genteelly.

"Well..." Nudge thought, "It might have been. I wasn't really paying attention."

Iggy smiled, "That's the genius of John Lennon right there."

Nudge, in turn, frowned, "Well I didn't like it very much. It just sounded weird to me. So I took it out and tried some of Fang's music, but that was even worse! There was this guy and he kept screaming in this girly voice! And I couldn't even understand what he was screaming! Well," She quickly added, "I could understand some parts. But it was really weird, like he just kept saying 'Love, love, love' or 'Bang, bang, bang'! It was almost as bad as that walrus song!

"I tried a couple other CDs but they were all still really weird. Sometimes the singer guys would scream, and some of them just didn't sing at all... It was more like they just talked. And I didn't like that, because people are suppose to sing on CDs, not scream. Or talk."

"We'll just have to get you some CDs of your own." Max said sweetly. It was funny how she could be so understanding towards the younger ones, yet so cold towards the boy who was practically her brother.

"I'd like that a lot. Maybe we could go shopping too?" She asked hopefully.

"Maybe," Max smiled brightly, lying right through her teeth. The CDs alone were going to be a stretch, and they would probably be used too. They hardly had the money to go out and by Nudge a wardrobe like she saw in all the Gap adds.

"Good, cause Celeste needs a new tutu." Angel yawned, rubbing sleep out of her eyes with the bear himself in tow.

"Of course!" Fang was amazed at how the girl he'd grown up with, the honest, kick-butt, hard working girl, had turned into a slightly spazzy, paranoid control freak who could let lies roll out of her mouth with such ease. She'd never been as good an actress as she was now. She'd never lied as much either. It was such an alarming transformation, Fang really didn't know what to think of it.

Admittedly, Fang had had a bit of a crush on the old Max. The girl back in Colorado who could always take the time to mother the little ones and take the time to have a laugh with her older comrades, the one who had a sense of humor. With the million watt smile. Where had she gone?

Now, Fang could hardly look at the mess she'd turned into without thinking about who she used to be. There was no way in heck he'd ever feel the same about her.

Iggy caught his eye, pointing at Max and then giving a hand gesture to signify, "What the heck is she talking about?"

"I don't know," He whispered back lowly.

"Whatever it is, she better know what she's doing." Iggy answered in a hoarse whisper, just so that Max couldn't hear.

Fang gave her another long look, a sad, forlorned expression painted across his face, "I don't think she does."

A/N II: The albums Nudge referred to where actually some of my personal favourites. "Crimes" by The Blood Brothers, "The Used" by the Used, "Three Cheers for Sweet Revenge" by My Chemical Romance, "She Wants Revenge" by She Wants Revenge and "Nevermind" by Nirvana.

I gave Fang a very dark musical taste, if you will, and I gave Iggy a lighter version. (The Beatles, Bob Dylan, Bright Eyes, The White Stripes, etc.) It just seemed to fit better than the Taylor Twins, who gave me images of Hilary Duff and Jesse McCartney. In the next chapter we will see Nudge's taste in music portrayed in a very funny scene. Perhaps Max's and Gazzy's as well. (Angel really has no taste for music at this point.)

Anyways, thanks everyone for reviewing and the next chapter should be up within the next two weeks or so.