Summary: Fang decides that he's had enough. He's tired of Max running away from him and running away from the truth, so he enlists the help of Max's one weakness.
Warnings: None, other than serious fluff. Your teeth might hurt from the sweetness!

This is set in the Martinez household, somewhere between the Final Warning and MAX.

Chocolate Chip Cookies


"Fang" I called, my head stuck in the cupboard. We were at my mom's house and I was getting cranky, because frankly, it had been far too long since I'd seen one of my favourite things about coming here. It had been about 12 hours, actually. Yeah, okay. Maybe I had a problem.


I nearly jumped out of my skin. "Do you have to do that?" I grumbled as I turned around to face him, leaning against the work side with my arms crossed. He was right behind me, but he moved to stand further away as he answered me.

"Do what? Breathe?" he smirked.

I rolled my eyes. "Whatever. Have you seen –"


I looked up at the ceiling as feet thudded across it and down the stairs. I grimaced as they bounded like an elephant into the kitchen and was thankful Mom was at work and Ella was at school.

"Max!" Gazzy said "come and look!"

I put a smile on my face. "Look at what Gazzy?"

"Iggy and me made this really cool bomb and we're going to let it off next time we see the Flyboys, just wait, it's going to be GREAT! We rigged it so that when it explodes it covers them in that nasty stuff Nudge uses on her hair so they'll be all sticky and gross and then-" he drew in a deep breath "- we can fly over the top and drop feathers on them and then they'll really be like birds!" he laughed maniacally.

And I thought Nudge talked a lot.

I looked at Fang for help. He simply smirked again.

Thanks for the help, buddy.

"Gazzy, what did I tell you and Iggy about explosives? Not around humans." I put on my stern leader Max voice and he looked a little disheartened. I sighed. "But I'm sure it's great."

He perked up again. "Oh, it is!"

I watched him sprint back out of the kitchen and I turned back to the cupboard, trying to rid the image of Flyboy's looking like turkey's ready for basting. I was tall but I couldn't see up to the top. I stood on my tiptoes and peeked over the top shelf. Nothing.

"What was it exactly that you were looking for?" Fang asked, still standing behind me with his arms behind his back. There was a mischievous glint in his eye.

"Cookies. You seen 'em?"

"These cookies?"

I spun around and saw him holding the box Mom and I had made only yesterday. He grinned one of those woah-did-the-sun-just-explode? smiles and I couldn't help but smile back. "Yes!"

"Oh. Cool."

My brow furrowed. "Cool? Give them here."

He seemed to think about it for a second. "Well... No. No, I don't think I want to."

"What?" I was genuinely bemused. What was he doing? Why wouldn't he just give me the dang cookies?

"I said" and I saw in the way he stood that he was not planning on moving any time soon "I don't think I want to give you the cookies. But I bet they taste great. Should I find out?"

"Fang..." I warned him slowly. He smirked again, cracking the lid off the box and picking out one of the little chocolate chip pieces of heaven. "If you put that in your mouth, I will have to kill you."

He snorted "as if you could"

"Is that a bet?"

"Is this a chocolate chip cookie?" he raised it to his mouth and took a slow bite, savouring the mouthful "mmm" he said "tasty."

I pounced. He darted out of my way before I could reach him and was leaning against the wall of the kitchen with that stupid smirk that I just couldn't wait to wipe off his face.

"Fang. Give me the cookies!"

"Come and get them" he challenged, humour deep in his eyes. I leapt forward until I was right in front of him and reached for the cookies behind his back. I looked up to lecture him about immaturity and found I was only a centimetre from his face and his dark eyes were staring into mine with that look he gives me sometimes that makes me stomach do flip flops like it's a pancake at the International House of freaking Pancakes. How does he do that?!

I swallowed hard. He bent his head down slowly, not taking his eyes off mine. A hand reached from behind him and rested behind my neck, pulling my head gently up to meet his lips. My eyes fluttered close as he kissed me softly. He tasted like chocolate chip cookies.

My adrenaline must have kicked in or something, because before I knew what I was doing, I had pushed him up against the wall and was kissing him ferociously, my hands tangling in his dark hair, my breathing ragged. I heard the cookies drop onto the floor beside us as the hand holding the cookies found my waist and the strong arm attached to it wound itself around me, pulling me tighter to his body. His tongue ran gently along my bottom lip and I allowed him entry into my mouth as we both fought for dominance in the kiss. As if to tell me that he was in charge, he arched his back off the wall and spun us around so I was pushed against the wall. His lips left mine and I whined a little.

"Relax, Max" he whispered, his lips finding my neck and leaving butterfly kisses in a trail along it "we can do this all the time"

A thrill ran through me. I had been missing out on this all the time while I was running away. I could have this all the time if I wanted to, if I could just get my act together and –

I stopped thinking again as his lips landed back on mine. Our makeout session was completely different from all the other kisses we'd had, because this time, even though I was scared to death, I knew I wasn't going to run away.

"Fang" I said, gasping as I pulled away. He moved back to my collarbone. "I'm –"

I heard him growl, low and deep in his chest. His arm tightened round me. "You are not going anywhere." His eyes were burning into mine again with the kind of intensity I imagined was necessary to bake something.

"I know" I panted "I was just saying. I'm not going anywhere."

He smiled and my stomach flipped. Gently, he cupped the side of my face in his hand and kissed my lips again, sweetly this time. I stop up on my tiptoes again and threw my arms around his neck. Then he pulled away and just looked at me for the longest time, almost as if he couldn't believe what was happening. As if he was the luckiest guy in the world.

I grabbed him and snuggled into his chest, holding him tightly. His strong arms held me as tight as they could right back. I could feel the contours and the scars of battle on his chest, even through his thin shirt. I sighed happily, tracing patterns with my finger there. Then I remembered something.

"Fang" I whispered "you dropped the cookies."