Me: Hello, Fanfiction readers!

Fang: Dear God, she's in one of those happy-hyper moods. Not a good sign.

Me: Why not?

Fang: It usually means you've written something to make fun of me.

Me: -evil grin- What makes you think that?

Fang: That.

Me: Mwahahaha...Anyway, to explain this oneshot, I had a thought. I thought of the one reason Fang must return to the Flock and will never survive on his own!

Fang: And what the Hell is that reason?

Me: You'll see!

Fang: Great...A surprise...

Me: But, before we begin...Important business!

Simon Says: Remember to Disclaim!: Yeah, my current legal battle with James Patterson over my gaining ownership of MR is still in the works, mainly because Spiffy and Pooky are really slow lawyers, so I still don't own Maximum Ride. And I just kidnapped Fang here, I don't own him.

I also don't own the last quote in this fic. I'll tell you which one it is and who owns it at the end.

Fang: Great, a surprise quote, too.

Me: Well, let's see what I wrote!

Max's POV

"You're kidding me!" I said as I raced down the hall of our latest safe house, still trying to straighten out the shirt I had just put on.

"No joke." Mom said from where she walked behind me. "He showed up this morning."

I turned the corner into the living room area, and sure enough, there he was, curled up in an easy chair, sipping hot cocoa, and looking like someone had just put him through the dryer a couple times on the 'tumble' cycle.

Fang was back.

The Flock was all around him, either looking at him anxiously or hopping around in excitement. Dylan, I noticed, couldn't do more but stare at him, propping up a wall with his shoulder, his arms crossed. The perfect picture of annoyance and disbelief.

"Well, I was wondering when you'd show up." I said from the other side of the room.

Fang managed to look up at me for a couple seconds, then looked away. He probably spotted the 'not-so-enthused' look on my face. This kid had a lot of explaining to do...

"I wasn't expecting you for, oh, say, the next twenty years!" I spat.

"Plans...Changed..." Fang managed, holding his cocoa closer to him for warmth.

Ok, I may be pissed at the little son of an Eraser, but I wasn't completely heartless. "What the Hell happened to you, anyway?"

Fang suddenly found something outside the front window quite interesting. "Don't ask..." He muttered.

"Eraser attack?" I guessed.

Fang shook his head.

"You were mauled by rabid fangirls?" Iggy tried.

Fang shook his head again. "I only wish..."

Oh, I'm sure he did... "Botched suicide attempt?"

He rolled his eyes. "No, Max. I'm not suicidal."

"Sure coulda fooled us with the 'emo' thing..." Ella pointed out.

"Were you mugged? I saw this whole show on T.V. about gangs and cities and stuff and-"

"No, I wasn't mugged, Nudge." Fang said, saving us all from the Nudge Channel.

"Aliens?" Gazzy guessed excitedly.

"I only wish, Gaz..." Fang answered.

"Fine." I said, looking at Angel. "Ang, what happened to Fang?"

She looked up at me, smiling knowingly. "I really think I should let Fang tell you...Trust me..."

My eyes shot back to Fang. "Ok, spill the beans. What happened?"

Fang sighed. "Well, I kinda discovered...Ummm..."

I made a continuing motion with my hand. "Go on."

"Well..." Fang said. "I found out that I can't dumpster dive anymore for food, since all of our 'fans' recognize me there. They recognize me in restaurants. too, which I didn't have money for, anyway. They kept, like, trying to maul me...Thanks for the publicity, Angel." He mentioned sarcastically.

Angel grinned. "I try."

"So, I was forced to...Try to cook..."

Iggy let out a snort of laughter. "You? Cook? Fang, for crying out loud, you failed at using Angel's old Easy Bake Oven."

"I know..." Fang answered, grimacing.

I looked at Fang, studying his leaner-than-usual physic, his now almost-gone hot cocoa. I heard his stomach suddenly rumble from the other side of the room. "Fang, let me guess. You couldn't survive because of lack of food."

Fang nodded, not looking up from his cup.

"Oh, for crying out loud!" I said, throwing my hands up. "I'd think, after everything we've been through, you could've figured out how to survive!"

"I tried to plant a garden." Fang mentioned.

"Oh, really?" Mom said, walking up behind me. Mom was an avid gardener. "How did that go?"

"I guess it takes more than burying a seed and pouring water on it..." Fang said.

"Sure does." Mom answered. She crossed her arm, smiling down at Fang, obviously holding back a laugh. "So, I'm guessing you're a bit hungry."

Before Fang could even answer, his stomach rumbled again, answering for him.

Mom let out a chuckle. "I'll go make some sandwiches." She walked off into the kitchen.

"So..." Fang said, looking up at me. "Am I...Allowed to stay?"

I just looked at him for a minute. I thought about him leaving on the wedding day, his stupid letter, the weeks of absolute turmoil I went through after he left. I almost kicked him out right then. But then, I remembered all the times he'd saved my butt, all the fun times we'd had with the Flock...How good a kisser he was...

"You're too pathetic to let out too far away from home." I said, finally.

"I can stay?" He asked, eyes widening slightly. Ah, he's surprised. "You don't...Mind me here, Max?"

I saw Dylan out of the corner of my eye, watching me. Waiting for my response. Wanting me to throw Fang out, or at least admit that I didn't want him around anymore.

Well, Dylan needed to learn he couldn't get his way around here.

I shrugged. "What can I say, Fang? I still love you, you son of a bitch." I spun on my heels and stalked back to my room before Fang could react.

He needed to learn he couldn't get his way that easy, either.

Me: And the quote "What can I say, I still love you, you son of a bitch" is owned by...Jimmy Buffett! Part of the last song from his musical 'Don't Stop the Carnival."

"You went crazy, ran off with an actress, and didn't get rich. But what can I say, I still love you, you son of a bitch."

Fang: Saint's currently obsessed with 'Don't Stop the Carnival'.

Me: So...Reason Fang can't survive on his own...He'd starve!

Fang: I'm not that bad at cooking.

Me: Maybe not, but I love picking on you! -huggles-

Fang: -headdesk-