Chapter 3:

AN: Thanks for the reviews guys, I appreciate it. This chapter is kind of tying the last one into the rest of the story, so I might end it here. Unless I get another idea. But I don't know, this seems like a decent place to end this fic.

I'm surprisingly good at being ignored. Just thought I'd put it out there. I don't like it, obviously, but I'm good at it. That doesn't make much sense, does it? What I mean, is that when Max was distinctly ignoring me for the few days after my operation as we stayed at the doctor's house, I wasn't an ass about it. I took it like a man.

I was still curious as to why she was ignoring me, though, but I was too embarrassed to ask her. Ugh, girls are impossible.

On the third day, I realized that, even though my hand wasn't working yet, we had to get back to the Flock. It was horrifying to think of what could go down with Iggy in charge. But in order to leave, I'd have to (gasp) talk to Max, who wouldn't even look at me.

"Max," I said, cornering her in the kitchen. She looked at me flatly.

"What."

"We should leave."

"Your arm's not better yet."

"Who cares."

"You can't fight."

"Sure I can."

"Multiple Erasers."

"Iggy's in charge."

"Fine." I love how that whole conversation was spoken in a flat, emotionless monotone. Actually, I don't love it. I hate it. Max was being so…weird today.

"We've got to leave," Max announced. Dr. Martinez looked up in shock.

"But Fang's arm isn't better yet," she argued.

"We have friends waiting for us, though," Max told her sadly. Sure, she shows emotion for her.

"Oh, all right. Just be safe, okay?" Max grinned.

"Sure." The sad thing is that the doctor probably believed that she'd actually be safe. Dr. Martinez got up and hugged Max, and then Ella followed the suit. I turned toward the door so that nobody would hug me. I don't know, I guess I'm just not much of a hug-y person.

Unless it was Max. I'd hug Max. But obviously, she wouldn't let me. She'd probably go, like, bleach her shirt or something if I so much as brushed against her. Because it was me, toxic Fang.

"Wait," Ella said. "You guys should probably change your clothes."

"We don't really need to," Max told her. "We've been in worse shape."

"No, I insist. I've got plenty of clothes upstairs. Come on!" Max didn't even have a say in this as Ella yanked her up the stairs. I repressed a grin.

"Do you want to see if I can dig something up for you, Fang?" Dr. Martinez asked.

"Nah, I'm fine."

"You can go wash up in the bathroom really quick before you leave." I was ready to tell her that I liked my man stench, but then I thought, hmm, maybe that's why Max has been avoiding me!

Okay, so that's clearly not why. But being a little cleaned up might help. I washed my face, and used some of their soap to clean myself off. I wasn't in the mood to hop in the shower, so I just washed my arms and rinsed in the sink.

When I came out of the bathroom, I heard Ella say, "It's so cute though!" from her room across the hall.

"I'm not wearing a skirt," Max muttered. "Do you have any idea how hard it is to fly in those things? Plus, how awkward would that be if Fang flew below me?" I felt my cheeks get hot, and I walked quickly away. God, what was with me? Blushing, seriously? And I thought Max was the weird one.

When Max came out of that room, all I could do was stare. I'm sorry, that's just what happened. I find her beautiful on a daily basis, even when she's got blood and dirt crusted to her hair, but right now was just above and beyond all standards.

Ella had taken to combing out her hair, and smearing some makeup on her eyes. They say white on white doesn't work (pretend I don't know that, okay?) but she made it work. She was fitted into a white low-cut tank top and white short-shorts, and I couldn't help but gawk at her. It's like she said to herself, how can I ruin Fang's decency? Ah, here we go!

I'm not attracted to Max because of the way she looks. I love her because of who she is, how she acts etc. But damn, she was hot. Again, I'm sorry, but that's how it is.

"Fang's staring," Ella whisper-giggled. I turned my head away really fast, concentrating on my sneakers. I didn't want to see Max's reaction. Well…actually I kind of did. I glanced back up to see her looking at her feet, but her face looked kind of angry from what I could see. Or almost offended.

"Let's go," she muttered. I stood quickly and strode to the door as she hugged each of them again.

We took off, but once we were in the air she flew over to me, awful close. Like, I was worried about whacking her with my wings.

"What are you doing?" I asked. She smiled (oh my God).

"You smell like strawberries," she stated. "And vanilla."

"Is that a good thing?" I wondered. Please say yes, I thought.

"Sure, sure. If you, you know, like boys." My eyes got wide. Shit.

"That's the only soap they had!" I said defensively.

"It's okay, Fang. I still accept you." I glared at her, but she just shrugged and flew in front of me. Damn it, her mood swings were driving me crazy. One minute, she hates me. The next, she's teasing me. Grr.

I was contemplating how I'd convince her I liked females without freaking her out, when we arrived at the place we'd left out Flock.

And guess what?

They weren't there.

"Shit!" Max shouted. I tried not to let on how nervous I was.

"Where are they?" I wondered out loud.

"If I knew that," she responded curtly. "I wouldn't have shouted shit." I held up my hands. (Well, my left hand. My right one just kind of hung there.)

"Where should we look?" I revised. I saw her switch into leader-Max mode. She glanced around, looked distinctly at the scrapes on the ground, and spread out her wings.

"Come on," she said, flying up. I followed her, but she stayed close to the ground, flying slowly. I didn't say anything as we swooped around.

"There," she said suddenly, pointing. There were clear tracks, of a big truck. We were in the middle of nowhere, so we assumed that these were the tracks of whatever had the Flock.

Following the tracks, we eventually came upon a huge semi-truck. It parked as we saw it, and tons of Erasers piled out.

"What?" Max asked. "I thought they were all dead?" I looked a little closer.

"Those don't look like normal Erasers," I noticed. "Don't they look a little…different to you?" She glanced at them.

"Yeah, they actually look more advanced. And…" she swooped down further, studying the army. "They kind of look…not alive."

"Robotic," I agreed. She shot me a look, and I thought, what the Hell? How in the world was that look-worthy? What now?

I realized that we needed to get down, but didn't know how. Then I got a really, really awful idea. But pig-Fang thought it would be fun, and I'd never get another opportunity. And we'd end up having to go down there, no doubt.

So, I reached down and hit Max's ass.

"WHAT THE HELL?" She screamed. Unless everybody below us was suddenly deaf, I was pretty sure they heard. Max spun around, her eyes absolutely blazing. I kept impassive, as I knew it would piss her off. "WHAT'S WRONG WITH YOU FANG?" I flashed a smile that I knew would piss her off even more.

"Your ass looks good in those," I told her matter-of-factly. And since this is Max, she didn't say, aw thanks Fang, you're so sweet. No, she took off. Toward the truck. So I followed.

We were way outnumbered. She called out to the Flock, and we heard their response—from inside the truck. Then something awful occurred to me: Angel was standing right there, and she was holding someone's hand. Who, you might ask? Why, Mr. Jeb Batchelder himself!

That was a bad sign. That was a really bad sign.