Fang: Saint's obsessed...

Me: Yes, yes I am... Anyway, here's another little Glee crossover for ya that came to me randomly one night. Posted it on Tumblr first, but figured it might as well join the rest of my fanfic work here.

Fang: An exclusive club...

Me: Highly exclusive. :P By the way, this is a ONESHOT. Oneshot, oneshot, oneshot. I know I could go on, I'm highly aware. Maybe someday, I will add to it. But right now, I've got too many fanfics going as it is. It's ok to write a oneshot when that inspires me, but I can't be starting anymore full-length fics until I finish some of the ones I already have up. So you can bug me to write more all you want, it probably won't happen for awhile, at least.

Fang: Blah, blah, blah, just post the fic already.

Me: Why are you in such a hurry?

Fang: I'm hungry! The sooner you're done with this, the sooner I can go down to the vending machines and get food!

Me: Fang and I are in a hotel with Affie and her grandson, Nick. Going to Florida in the morning. :D

Fang: And hungry now.

Me: -eyeroll- Yeah, yeah, just one more thing...

Dis your claim claim, dis your claim claim, yeah yeah!: I do not own Maximum Ride or any bird-kids associated with it. This includes Fang, though I may have sort of kidnapped him. I don't own Glee, either. If I did, there'd be a lot more Klaine. ...Ok, Klaine may have had it's own spin-off show by now. And Rachel and Blaine would be siblings. I also don't own the song 'Shake Your Groove Thing'. That would be Peaches and Herb.

Fang: Are you done yet?

Me: Just about.

Third Person POV

An awkward silence had fallen over the Anderson household. Only a short week ago the Andersons had brought into their home a boy who they thought they'd never see again. When their older son, Blaine, was only a year old, the couple had brought into the world a second little boy, Blake. But on the same night as his birth, baby Blake Anderson was kidnapped from the hospital where he was born. Though searches were conducted, and even private investigators were hired, the boy was never found.

That is, until fifteen years later. The government had seen it fit to return a couple of experiments that some rogue scientists of theirs had been found chasing around the country. And one of them happened to be a boy. A boy with wings.

And though Mr. and Mrs. Anderson still remembered the teen as their little Blake, they settled on letting him be known as the name he had given himself, as strange as it might be. Fang.

And there Fang was, in the very heart of the silence that shadowed the household, pacing awkwardly around his large room. He had already taken in every possible exit, including the balcony on the northern wall, had inspected the closet full of new clothes his parents had bought him, checked the desk, fully supplied with a new laptop sitting in the middle, played with the flatscreen TV, blu-ray player, and stereo system, sat on the bed, complete with new comforter, sheets, and blankets, and gone over the pictures, over and over, that he had sitting on the edge of his bedside table. Older ones of him as a baby. Pictures of his parents. His older brother. Newer pictures of the Flock right before they were split apart.

Fang was anything but comfortable in this room. All he needed was a reason to escape.

He gave his wings a flap, rustling the black feathers. He felt restless. He stared towards the balcony for the hundreth time that day. If he wanted to, all he had to do was open those double doors, take a leap, and leave this shiny new life behind. Go back to something that made sense. Be with his Flock again.

But Max had encouraged him to stay. Give it a shot. His parents were actually decent, his family not eager to sell him back to science or star on the Jerry Springer show. He should be ecstatic.

Instead, he just felt kind of lonely.

Fang started to go through the collection of books his parents had supplied for him on his bookcase, just trying to occupy his mind. But, as much as he tried, he couldn't stop his mind from thinking of his Flock, all split up around the country. Angel, Gazzy, and Total had ended up in Montana with a nice couple that ran a small horse farm. Nudge had been reunited with her dad who owned and operated a cafe with his partner in Pennsylvania. Iggy lived up in Maine now, adopted by his aunt and uncle. His aunt was his mother's sister and had nothing to do with her money-hungry sibling. They had two other children around the same age as Iggy and spent part of their time living on an island off the coast.

And, of course, Max was in Arizona with her mother and sister.

And Fang was stuck in Ohio.

What really got to Fang, though, was how everyone else seemed to be having such a great time already. He'd heard from everyone, especially Nudge, who he'd taken to e-mailing back and forth every day. Everyone, that is, except Max. Fang hadn't heard a word from her. Nudge said that she had spoken to her briefly, and for Fang not to worry, but he couldn't help but feel a bit slighted. It seemed Max had time for everyone lately, except him.

"Hey there, little brother!"

And then there was Blaine. Fang's friendly, bubbly, openly gay brother. Fang was still having trouble believing that he was actually related to the little hobbit. Blaine was supposed to be older, but Fang was already taller, though Fang figured that might have to do with all the genetic experimentation. (He had inwardly shuddered at the idea that he might have been that short.)

It wasn't the first time Blaine had just invited himself into Fang's room, and Fang barely acknowledged the older boy this time, mumbling some sort of greeting while keeping his eyes on his books.

He almost cringed when he heard Blaine slowly walking his way, but managed to keep his composure, even when Blaine came to a stop right by his younger brother's side. There was a pause as they both gazed up into the bookcase and Fang fought the urge to jump out the nearest window.

"There's a good one right there." Blaine said, breaking the silence as well as Fang's gaze, that had slowly shifted to the balcony. His eyes flicked back to the bookcase, searching for whatever Blaine was trying to point out.

"The Hunger Games." Blaine said, reaching up and pulling the book off the shelf. "Ever read it?"

Fang just shook his head.

"Really interesting. Got some futuristic stuff, conspiracies, fights to the death, a little romance." He smiled at the book, like it was some kind of long-lost friend. "You should give it a shot sometime."

Fang just nodded. His eyes were on the book in Blaine's hand, but his mind was out the window, through the sky, and halfway across the country.

"Yo, Fang? Fang!"

Fang almost jumped. "Yeah, what?" He snapped.

Blaine laughed, putting the book back on the shelf. "Chill, bro. Hey, I know you have wings, but does that mean you always need to keep your head in the clouds?"

"What?" Fang asked again, eyes narrowed.

"You were a million miles away there." Blaine answered. "Were you really looking for a book on this shelf, or were you just looking for an escape?"

Taken aback by the question, Fang didn't answer. Instead, his eyes watched his older brother, who, seeming unfazed by Fang's silence, begin to walk across the room towards where the TV and stereo system sat.

"Have you tried this baby out yet?" Blaine asked, gesturing to the stereo.

Fang slowly shook his head.

Blaine smiled. "I suppose we'd know if you did. It's hooked up to speakers all around the room. Got a CD player, a place to hook up your ipod or laptop..." He trailed off, thinking. Suddenly, he darted to the other side of the room, grabbing Fang's laptop off of his desk and bringing it to the stereo. Fang slowly made his way over to Blaine as he quickly got the laptop running and pulled up a tab for YouTube.

"Fang, my little brother, it looks like you need some help to... Loosen up." Blaine said. Fang was not liking the sound of this. "So, Fang, do you dance?"

Fang's eyes widened a fraction. "Dance? No, I don't."

"Great time to start, then." Blaine said, hooking the computer to the stereo's speakers.

"There's nothing more that I'd like to do,

Than take the floor and dance with you."

Fang began to shake his head, but Blaine ignored his brother's protests, instead reaching out and firmly grasping both of Fang's hands in his, dragging him out to the middle of the room.

"Blaine..." Fang said, trying to pull his hands out of Blaine's grasp. Blaine's whole body seemed to be flowing with the music, dragging Fang's rigid frame with it.

"Shake your groove thing, shake your groove thing, yeah yeah."

"Come on, Fang, move! Stop being such a statue!" Blaine said, laughing. He tried to use Fang's arms to make him move to the music, pulling them back and forth. "Humor me, bro."

Fang sighed inwardly, letting Blaine move him back and forth, hoping to humor the older boy enough that he would leave him alone.

Blaine tried to move Fang around to the music, hoping to get some kind of response out of him. But when a pained expression continued to stay plastered to the younger boy's face, Blaine proceeded to suddenly spin his brother around in a circle, nearly tripping Fang up.

"Hey!" Fang exclaimed, catching himself.

"Well, move yourself, and I won't have to do it for you." Blaine said, laughing. "Come on, Fang! You're not a rag doll!"

Fang just stared at him.

"Don't look at me like that, bro, you look like Bambi caught in the headlights... Or Ms. Pillsbury." Blaine, who had let go of Fang's hands, began to dance circles around his younger brother.

"I don't dance." Fang said again.

"Why not?" Blained asked.

"I'll, uh, look like an idiot." Fang answered, watching his older brother's moves.

Blaine grinned. "Oh, come on, Fang! First rule of dancing; dance like no one is watching." He took Fang's hands in his again. "Courage, man."

"Courage?" Fang asked, but Blaine didn't answer. He was already moving his arms back and forth again to the music.

"Shake your groove thing, shake your groove thing, yeah yeah."

"What is this, disco?" Fang asked.

"Something like that." Blaine answered. "How does it make you feel, Fang? The music?"

"Like bashing my head through a disco ball." Fang muttered.

Blaine rolled his eyes. "I mean movement-wise."

"Ummm..." Fang couldn't quite think of an answer.

"Can you move to the beat?" Blaine asked. "I mean, without me moving you."

The last thing Fang wanted was to move to any beat, but Blaine didn't seem ready to let this go. Slowly, Fang began to rock himself back and forth to the music.

"There you go!" Blaine said. "You've got a start there! Let's put a little more into it." He started pulling on Fang's arms again. "You've gotta get your hips moving! Come on, I know those work. I've seen you walk."

"Ever think of being an exercise instructor?" Fang asked him, trying to make himself move the way Blaine was showing him. It felt a bit... Unnatural, but, strangely enough, he seemed to be getting it.

"No, but it might be fun. I'll put that down on the list." Blaine caught Fang's eye and Fang saw the quickest, mischievious grin flash across his face.

This time, when Blaine spun him around, it was no surprise for Fang. Blaine, on the other hand, went tumbling to the floor when Fang spun him back.

"Oh my gosh, Fang!" Blaine said laughing as his brother helped him up. "Nice move."

Fang grinned. "I catch on pretty quick, when I want."

"Hey, you've been holding out! You do smile!" Blaine said, giving his brother a clap on the shoulder.

Which evolved into a headlock

Fang wriggled out of his brother's grasp and tried to run for it, but Blaine had him by the hand again. He pulled him back and had them both moving to the disco beat again.

"Come on, bro, shake your groove thing!" Blaine said.

"What the heck is my 'groove thing'?" Fang asked. He had been able to slip his hands free from Blaine's, but, for some reason, he hadn't been able to make his body stop moving yet.

"No idea." Blaine said, shrugging.

"I think yours is your eyebrows." Fang said, hip-bumping Blaine into the desk.

"Oh, half an hour and you've already mastered the hip-bump!" Blaine said with mock enthusiasm. "My brother is a prodigy!"

Fang rolled his eyes. "Mine is a dancing monkey in a bowtie."

"Hey, everyone loves the tie." Blaine answered. He took hold of Fang's outstretched wings, moving them with the beat. "I think I found your groove things!"

Fang gave his wings a flap, gently knocking his brother off. "I'll show you groove thing!"

"No way! The student shall not surpass the master!" Blaine dove at Fang and caught him in a second headlock.

Under any other circumstances, Fang would have had the easiest of times escaping from such a small threat as Blaine. But within five minutes of Blaine arm wrapping around his neck, he had Fang completely incapacitated. Fang couldn't find back, his sides were hurting him terribly.

He had been laughing too hard.

As Kurt and Rachel ascended the stairs in the Anderson house, they fully expected to find Blaine holed up in his room, music blaring. Maybe a Harry Potter movie or a Doctor Who episode playing in the background. They even considered the chance of finally seeing Blaine's elusive younger brother. If Kurt were to be honest, he dreaded the idea of meeting the boy. All he knew of Fang was that he was 'highly reclusive and anti-social' according to his brother. But, unlike Blaine, who was convinced Fang just needed time and a little encouragement to become a stable member of society, Kurt sort of thought Fang sounded like one of the serial killers from an NCIS episode.

In any case, they found neither Blaine in his room nor Fang hanging the neighbor's bodies in the broom closet. Instead, they were met at the top of the stairs by what sounded like a '70s disco party going on from a room near the end of the hall. Slowly, the pair made their way to the door.

"Maybe we should wait." Kurt suggested, realizing just exactly who this room may belong to.

"Oh, Kurt, don't be such a worrywart." Rachel said before taking hold of the doorknob and pushing the door wide open.

Kurt and Rachel had indeed formed many expectations about what they would see on the Anderson house's second floor, but none of them even came close to reality. There,in the middle of the room, standing back-to-back, were Blaine and Fang, laughing over the music as Blaine tried to show his younger brother how to do a ridiculous disco move.

But the dancing was not what sent Blaine's friend and boyfriend into shock.


The two boys neary jumped out of their skins, Blaine diving across the room to shut off the blaring music and Fang snapping in his jet black wings, trying to hide them behind his back.

"Hey, Kurt... Rachel." Blaine said, smiling sheepishly to them as he shut the now silent laptop.

Both teen's eyes were still fixed on Fang. "Blaine..." Kurt said again. "Does your brother... I mean, I thought I saw..."

"He has wings!" Rachel blurted out.

Blaine look to Fang, who, after a pause, slowly nodded, though his eyes flicked between these two new people and his brother, still unsure.

Blaine, though, had no uncertainty in his voice as he addressed the two shocked guests. "Kurt, Rachel, there's something you should know about my little brother..."

Fang: Mmmm... Food...

Me: Fang got chicken tenders. And mozzarella sticks. And french fries. And a salad. And pie.

Fang: I was hungry!

Me: Obviously... Dancing works up an appetite, huh?

Fang: -.- I don't dance.

Me: And for a good reason! Trust me, people, in real life, you don't want Fang to dance. It's a sad sight.

Fang: -.- And to disco music? Really?

Me: Had to. :P It just... Worked.

Fang: -facepalm-

Me: But I need to shower soon, so...


Fang: -noms food-