Disclaimer: no own.

I find a one-shot helps writers block.

Thanks to b4k4 r3dux for giving me this plot bunny!

Discovering Fanfiction.

Tap.

Tap tap.

Tap.

All I could hear was the maddening taptaptap of Fang's slim fingers against the keyboard. I ground my teeth together, gripping the pale sheets of my bed tightly in an attempt to stop myself from reaching over to the next bed and knocking that stupid laptop onto the floor.

Fang wouldn't be very happy with me if I did that. So instead I rolled so I was facing the illuminated window, with its pale netting billowing around it. Every single window in the house was thrown wide open; summer in Arizona was way too hot for comfort and any kind of breeze was welcome. I sighed audibly; the chances of me getting to sleep with that inane tapping in the background were non-existent.

I heard Fang shifting around on his mattress, the sheets making small noises as they rubbed past each other as he moved. The tapping paused for a brief moment, before resuming its annoying tirade at an even faster pace. I took a few deep breaths. An angry, irritated Max would wake up the whole household. We'd been staying with my Mom for the past few months, after she insisted upon it after my sixteenth birthday. I just had to have a proper party, apparently. We'd never really gotten round to finding our own accommodation again, though, so now we had picked room, and were living here, seemingly, for the time being. My mom had seemed uncertain about me and Fang sharing a room, but one look from me had silenced her thoughts. I was now regretting that decision.

"Will you please stop that?" I sat up, holding the thin sheets to my chest as I twisted round to look at him. His face was illuminated by the laptop screen, his jet black hair tousled and hanging into his eyes, casting eerie shadows. He cocked one eyebrow at me, pausing his typing to look at me. I observed the tangled sheets surrounding him, one even clenched in his fist. Hmmn. What got him into such a state?

I kept on looking at him, but he simply kept that one eyebrow raised above the rest. I huffed in annoyance.

"Well?" I glared at him. I was waaaay too tired to be dealing with this right now.

"What? I've stopped typing." He looked away from me and back to the precious laptop screen. Oh yeah.

I detached myself from my bed and jumped over into his, grabbing one of his sheets and sliding my legs underneath it. I glanced up at him, watching as his expression changed from one of un-interest to one of slight shock as I moved my legs to lie directly beside his. I was only wearing a singlet and small shorts, so he was feeling my bare legs against his, as he only wore basketball shorts to bed.

We'd been in what some would call a 'relationship' for about a year now, but nothing had happened except kissing. So I guess he was allowed to be slightly surprised when I squished our bare legs together in his single bed.

"Whatcha looking at?" I asked, peering at the bright screen. I could see a few tabs opened (did you notice the use of 'tabs' then? Fang had been teaching me on how to use a computer . . .), one of which said . I'd never heard of it, so I reached into Fang lap to grab his laptop. He immediately jerked it out of my reach, causing me to almost fall across him as my hand tried to follow it.

"Hey!" I looked indignantly up at him. "Give me the laptop, jackass!" he mashed his lips together and shook his head at me, and amused twinkle in his eyes. I narrowed my eyes and groped the air in vain again; pinned by the bed sheets and Fang, so I couldn't reach. He started to chuckle at my attempts, so I withdrew my other hand from the sheets and used it to smack him upside the head.

"Ow, Max! What the hell was that for?" He whisper yelled. I flicked my eyes pointedly towards the laptop hovering four feet above the ground, kept in place by his outstretched arm, before looking back at him. He sighed resignedly, and reluctantly placed his precious baby in my lap.

I shot him a smug grin and started moving my finger over the touch-pad thing. I immediately opened up the internet tab that Fang had minimised and opened it again, coming face to face with the world of for the first time.

I took in the blue and white design, the 'unleash your imagination' slogan in the top corner. I glanced up at Fang, confused. What kind of a site was this? He gave me an equally confused stare; he'd obviously clicked on it without knowing what it actually was. I turned back to the screen and began searching away, clicking on a button saying 'books'. I was then brought to another page much like the last, this time with reams and reams of what I could only assume were book titles. It looked like they were all listed in alphabetical order.

Boooring.

I clicked on yet another button, this one saying 'most popular'. I was faced with another list, this time with a number by each of the names. I didn't have time to ponder what they represented, however, because I saw Maximum Ride written about four names down.

It was no secret to the flock that I had written about our experiences. It had been my way of coping with all that had happened, and forewarning the rest of the world, even if they thought it was purely a fiction book. But I can't say I wasn't surprised to see it on this foreign website.

"What's this site, Fang?" I didn't even turn around; I just started moving the little arrow up to my name.

"I don't know. It was posted on a comment on my blog by some fan girl. I just clicked on it." I nodded silently, feeling him lean in closer to get a better view of the screen. I drummed my fingers on the laptops edge as I waited for it to load; it seemed to be going extra slow on the page I wanted to see the most. Typical.

After a few intense minutes, it finally loaded, and I could also hear the cogs in my head working as I tried to make sense of what was in front of me. It looked like this website was for people who had read my books, and wanted to write some more, using the characters.

I noticed that on almost every 'story', the word fax was there in capital letters. I turned to Fang. 'What's Fax?" He stopped scanning the screen and faced me.

"Uhm, from what I can see . . . It looks like 'Fang' and 'Max' combined." I looked at him blankly. He shrugged and we turned back to the screen again. I scrolled all the way down, until I saw a couple of drop down bars. I clicked on one of them, seeing it had 'Ratings'. I clicked on the one saying M.

I waited again for the page to load, drumming my fingers this time on Fangs leg. He elbowed me in annoyance, but by then the page had loaded and I was moving the cursor once more. The first one up was called 'Max and Fang'. Not very imaginative, but whatever. The summary rambled on a about some sort of 'lemon' and 'smut'. Confused, I decided to click on it, and began to read.

I think that Europe heard my shriek.

I shoved the laptop away from me, sending it flying onto the floor. Fang lunged forwards, his wings snapping out on instincts as he reached for his precious hunk of junk. The sheets had moved backwards with me, however, and forwards with him, so he ended up flipping over and smooshing his face into the mattress. I heard his groan of annoyance coupled with the heavy thud of the laptop on the carpeted floor.

He scrambled to detach himself from the bedding as he retracted his wings and picked up the laptop. He scanned it quickly, checking for any visible signs of imperfection. He then sat it on his lap and quickly scanned the black text.

It was obvious he hadn't read it, by his calm expression. I wondered what he'd been looking at instead? But then it finally seemed to click in his head about what he was reading, and he gave a startled yell as he slammed the laptop shut. His head whipped around to face mine, seeing me flat up against the wall, the sheets lying forgotten by my feet and a blush coating my cheeks to rival his. There were a few moment of embarrassing silence.

"What. The hell. Was that?" I whisper shrieked. I subconsciously listened to see if I could hear any Flock members moving, awakened from our yells, but it seemed as if they were still sleeping.

Fang gave me an equally confused look. "I don't know! I just clicked on the link, you were the one to find . . . that." He looked away from me, gazing at the window with an intense stare. I could understand why. The story I had clicked on had involved a rather . . . graphic scene between me and Fang.

I couldn't believe someone would actually write that kind of thing. Ew.

The awkward silence stretched on for at least ten minutes, me examining my fingernails with great interest, and Fang staring at the window, a shadow of a blush still on his cheeks. Why is he still blushing? Then I realised that when I'd moved backwards, I hadn't brought the sheet with me. I was wearing small shorts, and my legs were brought up to my chest.

Ah.

I immediately grabbed the bedding and brought it up to my chest, shuffling down the bed to get into the middle. At least Fang hadn't given into his teenage bird-boy hormones, I though as he slowly brought his head back to look at me.

"What are you doing?" His eyes flickered between my now outstretched hand and the laptop. Shrugged and grabbed it anyway, moving next to him and opening it once more. I tried not to read what was written on that godforsaken story as I struggled to go back to the previous page, but it was as if my eyes were glued to it. Just looking at some of the words, let alone the plot line were enough to cause the blush to return.

I managed to get back to the main Maximum Ride page, and was sifting through what I could only assume to be recently updated stories. I saw one, labelled 'Seven For A Secret'. I scanned the summary, seeing it had spoilers for 'Fang' I was confused, I'd never written a story after Max, everyone knew that. Well. Apparently not.

"You wrote another book?" Fang asked, looking at me with slightly narrowed eyes.

"No! 'course not, I'd have told you."

A quick search on Google later revealed that someone had taken the alias James Patterson, the same one that I had used, and had written another book. About our life. That was not true. And who the heck was Dylan? To say I was monumentally pissed would be an understatement.

But there were more pressing matters to deal with.

I returned to FanFiction and clicked on the 'Seven For A Secret' story, which was rated 'T', which I assumed not to be one of those lemon things.

But I can't exactly say this was much better. A few chapters in, me and Fang were sat there, identical expressions on disbelief on our faces as we read about my pregnancy. It didn't occur to me to stop reading it; I actually wanted to see what would happen.

Two hours later (hey, we're not the best readers out there) we'd finished reading the 'story'. I turned to face him, returning the screen back to the homepage.

"Well. That was certainly . . . interesting."

"Damn straight." I replied. "Still . . . that was only two of these stories. I wonder what the others are like . . . I wanna try another 'M'" Fang stared at me in slight shock, as I shot him a devilish smirk.

Suffice to say, within the next five minutes I was shrieking again that the 'lemon' before me.


The next morning, Fang and I walked into the kitchen, dragging out feet. We were so tired; we'd only managed to get to sleep at around five am.

Iggy smirked at me as we walked in; my mom had managed to find someone willing to try and repair his eyesight. It wasn't brilliant, but with the aid of glasses he could now see.

"So . . . fun night?" he asked, now wearing a full-blown grin. I stopped rummaging through the fridge with Fang to face him.

"Excuse me?" He smirked.

"I may be able to see now, but my hearing is still as good as it was. Don't think I never heard your yells during the night."

"Iggy . . . run."