Hello, you're all ever so patient. I love you all. Truly I do. You guys keep me writing. Otherwise I just grind to a halt and have bouts of waxy flexibility. So here I present to you, chapter three. HINT: keep an eye out for the differences in Max's, Fang's, and Iggy's minds.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Iggy POV:

Pace, pace, pace, pace. Why was I so on edge? Every nerve ending on jitters, nervous energetic tension holding me taught as a ripcord. Pace, pace, pace. The kitchen which usually seemed so large grew small in my anxious pacing, my feet seeming to consume more and more floor with every pass. Back and forth through my dominion. Past the pots, the pans, the stove, the refrigerator. My usually calming sanctuary seemed a prison. A cage for a pathetic blind canary.

I don't think I could take it any longer. I still don't know why Fang's presence had me wanting to shred his face off with my favorite cheese grater. He was my brother, and yet when he came into my kitchen I... I just wanted to crush him. Silly, stupid, blind bird kid. There was no real reason to fight Fang, no reason to despise him with such a passion. It couldn't be explained. I could only hope it would pass, the house couldn't stay divided forever.

My hand skimmed gently over my oven, usually a comfort to myself. The smooth hard surface provided some imagined support. Today this familiar touch of metal offered no aide. The house itself was eerily silent.

I knew Nudge, The Gasman, and Angel were out somewhere flying. Probably through the trees or something. But that still left the question of Max and Fang.

Fang by himself was an anomaly if loud; the guy seemed to have digested his vocal cords for the most part in a fit of angst. Max on the other hand was the opposite. Max was generally loud and made her presence known, our dear leader wasn't a stickler for the beloved 'in door voices only' rule. Pity, my ears could probably last longer without screams, yells, explosions, and what not radiating through them.

Max.

My blood seemed to boil. Max. Argh, if only I could see. I pictured Max in a bikini like the beach bunnies I had Fang describe to me so long ago.

She would be wiry, strong; muscular and fit. Yet curvy. Max had boobs right? I couldn't see (pity the blind kid!) and of course couldn't feel. So all I had is this mental image to oogle. Even that though… lust seemed to flood my system.

A fit of lustful lunacy hits me. I could go find Max. I could go find her and… and what? Reality Iggy: She'll smack you up. If I tell her I'm a pervert picturing her in a bikini… or less, in my head? That would never do. I can hear the "SEXIST PIG!" right now as if Gazzy was pranking me.

Jeez. She had such soft skin. I know this. From all my times of playing doctor I knew this; I remembered my hands skimming her body, gently.

I stood in my kitchen, my domain, and perved on mental images of my sister. (Poor pathetic blind kid). I imagined my hands on her bare flesh, each caress, my hands on that forbidden soft side of the dear leader. Would she buck against me? I pictured her as a wild one…. Oh, God, Iggy you've hit rock bottom….

And with that I slumped onto the wood floor. How could I be feeling like this? I had always felt for Max like a sister, so why was it now that I couldn't keep my mind from drowning in the gutter?

I turn my pointless eyes towards where I know the oven is, "You suck, you know that?"

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Fang POV:

I can't believe I just did that. I can't believe I just did that. I REALLY can't believe I just did that. We did that.

I'm here. In Max's messed up bed, just laying down, staring at her. And she's staring at me. I wonder what she's thinking. I hope it's not about that she didn't like what we just… did. Or performed? Or… And I hope she isn't regretting it. What if she regrets it? My heart felt as if it hovered a brink to some terrible pit, if she hated me now it would surely fall and smash to oblivion. Oh Max.

But she had said we could do that again right? Hearing that wasn't just my hopeful delusions right? Whatever God there is for mutant bird kids, please let her have said that.

And her pants… They will be 'misplaced' for their treachery. The Gasman would appreciate the new fuse for a bomb.

"Fang, Earth to Fang..."

My daydreams halted and I was jerked back into a moment that I was stupid to leave.

"Huh?" Very intelligent conversationalist is he says Yoda, great job Fang.

"I love you, but the kids are going to come back sometime soon…. Sooo…"

She squirmed nervously. And this I could understand. I did NOT want to be caught half naked sprawled in Max's bed. Not a pleasant picture. I could imagine Nudge would speak of nothing for the next week, and the Nudge Channel is broadcasting 24/7.

So I nod, and reply, oh so tactfully, "I'm going to shower."

That's me. Mr. Ace Of Conversational Arts. The carpet squishes under my feet. My carpet, should the need to remind anyone rise. My Max. That just brings up what we did and, why hello there Mr. Happy. Pants suck, always, but the entrapping denim is shed soon enough.

The water's warm, as it pelts my back. Interesting how I was too involved in my fantasy to even recall turning it on and getting in.

Max… my hand drifts south. It rubs against my chest, down each ab muscle… 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6. Curled black hair greets the eager pilgrims of my finger tips. I pretend it's not my hand, but Max's.

Max's hand wraps around my shaft, slowly going up. Her thumb rubs gentle circles on the head. Her fingers trace the veins gently before wrapping around and pumping with more vigor. She always special minds to the tip, each time sending electric pulses through me that make me unconsciously buck and stiffen. Harder, faster. Some animalistic groan escapes me. Shut up Fang. My fantasy continues, progresses, gets dirtier, and finally I crash again. Muscles spasming in blinding ecstasy for the second time today.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

I can't believe we just did that. Invincible Maximum Ride just shamelessly dry humped her best friend. But Fang was so much more than that. He was my second in command, my confidant, my inside joke keeper, my support, my comforter. And it felt so natural to just be with him.

Bird genetics or not, this would have probably happened anyway at some point. It was inevitable. And by God, was it amazing. His tongue was skilled; the hands that crushed the bones of foes were incredibly gentle. As if she was some sacred treasure to be painstakingly revered in every inch with incredible care.

I, Maximum Ride, felt loved…

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Fang POV:

I was just dressed, but my hair was till dripping as I heard a knock on my door.

"Come in." I already knew it was Max. Who else would bother?

She blushed. "Fang, I've got a mission for you. We need some groceries and stuff. Here's a list."

The list is chucked at me with the force of shrapnel from a grenade. I wonder what's on it. I nod to Max, but she's already gone. I unfold the paper. My eyes are greeted with two words.

Get condoms.

Some grocery list. Groceries my ass! Condoms… my mind wanders down the familiar gutter path. I shake my shaggy head of wet hair. Not now. But… condoms equate sex right? Oh my God. Sex with Max. Can you say nervous? And exhilarated. But nervous… shit.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Until next time beloved readers. Please review and tell me what you want in it! Tell me what you think of the POV's, if I'm pulling it off well, or if I'm epic FAILing. Thank you to all who reviewed. You light the world with spontaneous support, kudos to you.