Hiya. Happy New Year's Eve :) Last day of 2012!

This is a little one-shot I wrote up for little miss flYegurl with a prompt for her birthday/the month of November/the holidays, since it took me about three months to write this :T Sorry about that. I hope you like it, all of you! Because this is seriously one of the most suggestive things I've ever written.

flYegurl's awesome present prompt: "I would like a Figgy in which Fang is totally crushing on Iggy but doesn't want anyone to know because he doesn't think Iggy likes boys, but Iggy knows and messes with his head through a series of hilarious situations embarrassing to Fang that eventually results in them dating. You can include a banana in there."

I dunno if this suffices, Steve, but oh well. I had fun.


Well, Iggy had been about to say that his days were getting boring. Sitting around all day on Dr. Martinez's couch, making countless amounts of cookies and pies, listening to Total flip out whenever he spasmodically shone his laser pointer on the wall, playing with severely questionable materials that may have or may not have been illegal in the backyard with Gazzy, it was all very fun, but he was beginning to think it mundane. His life, just chilling after all that apocalypse mumbo-jumbo that never happened, was getting boring. Iggy didn't do boring.

Maybe he should be more thankful for Nudge's big mouth sometimes.

Psh, nah.

"Pst." A sharp, short whisper met Iggy's super-sensitive ears, and he perked up slightly before resuming his work of that night's dinner of Chicken Parmesan. Since Dr. Martinez had had a long day at her office, Iggy thought it would be good to cook up the doc some nice food instead of the heads of lettuce he had been planning to throw at the flock's heads. He had to finish so that he could surprise her when she came home from picking Ella up at cheerleading, hence his complete ignorance to Nudge's exaggerated whispers. Dr. Martinez was going to love it so much, she'd forget all about her horrible day at work and she totally wouldn't even mind that Gasman and Iggy had accidently created a new waterless pond in her backyard.

"Iggy!" Nudge was insistent. Iggy didn't want to die or be grounded. Ella promised that she'd take him to the mall the next day to buy new clothes, without any of the flock's (save Angel's) knowledge. He didn't want to stay home and miss out on Ella helping him and getting some churros without the rest of the flock to steal them all, and he certainly didn't want to be caught trying to explain why his punishment should be postponed a day and two hours. Opening the lid on the rice he was cooking on the stove, Iggy smelt it to check its progress, and then set it back down. Nudge was close enough now that her entire stomach was lying on the divider between the kitchen and the living room, breathing heavily. Iggy turned around and leaned against the cupboard.

"What do you want, Nudge?" Iggy moaned, crossing his arms. Nudge huffed, pretending to be affronted.

"What, do you think that I'm just gracing you with my presence because I feel like hanging out?" Nudge asked. Iggy raised one eyebrow. "Well, I'm not. I have Max for that. No, my dearest Igster," she leaned closer, but Iggy didn't twitch one muscle. "I have heard a secret."

"Stop the presses, call the President." Iggy shrugged, returning to his rice and checking it again. He tested the heat of his chicken as Nudge fully swung into the kitchen from the divider, her light feet landing solidly on the tile floor.

"It's a really good secret." Nudge exclaimed.

"This is a really good banana." Iggy retorted, holding up a banana dislodged from a bunch in the ceramic fruit bowl on the counter. "Will you ever know? No, because I'm going to eat it."

Nudge spewed spit as she fought not to laugh, which made Iggy furrow his eyebrows and turn away from his cooking again.

"The...oh, the...banana...oh my gosh," Nudge wheezed, gripping the counter for support from her self-induced laughter meltdown. "That's...too much, it's just too much, my gosh."

"Enough with the censorship, Nudge, get it out."

"The secret..." Nudge straightened up again with sudden utmost stoicism. "It's about you. And Fang. And I guess Max, kinda, but mostly you and Fang. Or Fang. And you're involved. Gosh, are you involved."

"Well, if you're gonna tell me, tell me, I know you can't hold out much longer." Iggy took a handful of shredded cheese from the bag and dumped it into his mouth.

He could practically feel Nudge's grimace. She stepped closer, putting a hand on his chest. "Wait, this isn't chicken, is it? Gosh, Iggy, you know I'm a vegetarian now, and chicken is so totally not a vegetarian dish! If I was going full out vegan I couldn't even eat this cheese! You are so totally lucky that I am not vegan; all I'd have to eat is rice! Not that cheese and rice is that much better. I guess it'll have to do, but seriously, can we be a little more animal-conscious from now on?"

Maybe he'd just throw a head of lettuce at her.

"Oh, right, the secret!" Nudge bonked herself on the head. "Right, so, Iggy, c'mere."

"I'm cooking, Nudge." Iggy groaned, but Nudge grabbed his arm and hoisted herself so that her head reached his ear, which was approximately a foot and a half above hers.

"Are you ready?" She rasped.

"I'm ready to end this, yes."

"I have received some pretty solid proof–"

"What kind of proof is this, eavesdropping at Max's door?" Iggy inquired.

"–That's not the point. The point is that it is very and so scarily true, that...that..."

"Nudge, I will break out my meat cleaver and find the nearest bunny, I swear to God."

"Fang is gay." Nudge blurted out. She dropped down to the floor, heels slamming on tile. "Wait, you wouldn't do that to a little bunny rabbit, would you?"

"Fang." Iggy tried to close his gaping mouth. "Fang is...gay."

"Well, I dunno, really, he could be bisexual for all I know, or experimenting. All I know is that when I passed by Max's room, Fang was in there, and they weren't making out. They were talking. About things. And you were definitely mentioned in there somewhere."

"How can you be sure?" Iggy's voice was surprisingly firm, which was odd, because he was sure it would have cracked by now.

"I can't." Nudge shrugged. "But it isn't my nummy tall ginger parts that Fang may or may not be looking after. Why don't you go ask Max for yourself?"

"I...I'm cooking!" Iggy exclaimed. "Go do it for me!"

Nudge scoffed. "No thanks, Iggy. I've got all of the bunnies in the neighborhood to protect from you and your evil meat cleaver. I'll go grab Angel to come with me. And in about ten minutes Gasman will very conveniently have to have Fang give him some early impromptu driving lessons so he can break the law four years early."

Nudge click-clacked out of the kitchen in her fancy shoes, and Iggy blinked a few times before slapping himself a little bit and bringing himself back to reality. "Right. Uh, right. Thanks."

"Hurry it up, stupid!"

Iggy sputtered for a minute, unsure of what to say, before settling on something intelligent. "You're stupid!"

With no response, Iggy sighed, and paced for a few minutes. He checked his food one last time before stroking his imaginary beard. "Hey, Total." He called out.

A little Scottie head poked its way into the room. "You called?"

"Can you keep an eye on the food for like two seconds?" Iggy asked, already making his way toward the stairs. "If something catches on fire, just scream."

"Um...okay."

Iggy walked sneakily to Max's door, channeling his inner ninja. When he didn't hear Fang's voice coming from inside nor any suspicious making-out noises, he knocked once hesitantly before barging in like a man.

"Iggy, what did I tell you about knocking?" Max drawled without looking up from the PSP she was playing with on her bed.

"That it's not just the thought that counts," Iggy replied in a dull, singsong voice. He'd heard it a hundred times. "Look, I gotta talk to you."

"Yeah, well I gotta get twelve hundred more coins before I can go to the next level." Max muttered, eyebrows furrowed in concentration. "Make it snappy."

"Well, uh..." Iggy itched the back of his head nervously. "I uh...I heard some things."

"Things?" Max didn't look up.

"Yeah, uh, I was cooking, see, and then, uh..."

Max sighed and paused her game, throwing it on the covers. She looked up at him, hair raggedly perfect and flannel shirt baggy over her tank top. Max narrowed her eyes. "What did Nudge say?"

"She said Fang was gay!" Iggy nearly shouted the words before he remembered that it was possible for his mouth to close and covered his lips with his hand. Max sighed again, running a hand through her hair exasperatedly.

"All right," She muttered, tapping a spot on the bed next to her. "Sit down."

Harnessing his inner cuddly child, Iggy circled around the other side of the bed and sat down with Max, propping his overly tall body on the headboard. Max picked up her game again and started playing, and Iggy listened to the tinny sound effects for a few minutes before Max spoke.

"Are you homophobic, Iggy?"

"No!" Iggy exclaimed. "No, no I'm not, you know that."

Max shrugged. "I know. Just gotta make sure. Fang's kinda insecure about stuff."

"Fang? Insecure?" Iggy scoffed. "I knew those bangs were a cover for something."

"The kid can be emo if he wants to be emo." Max stuck her tongue out as she continued playing. She killed the boss at the end of the level and went on to the next one. "No self-harm involved, nothing but a mess of a teenage kid you used to kiss when you were fourteen."

"Max. We're fifteen."

"Things change."

"Did Fang change? Is he full-out gay, like he watched Magic Mike and suddenly he was turned like a sexy male stripper vampire? Or is he just, I dunno, bicurious?"

Max pulled her lips to one side. "No idea. You know, he really likes you."

"Nudge told me that too."

"Is that why you're freaking out a little?"

"I think that warrants me freaking out a little."

Max shrugged again. "I guess. I dunno, he's just never, you know, been comfortable with...people, and you guys are like best friends. You don't like him back, Iggy, that's no big deal, not to anyone. And if you do, well, no one'll judge you guys. You don't want to get all schmoochy-face–"

"Who wants to get all schmoochy-face?"

"–Then don't, just support him." Max paused the game again and shifted so that Iggy knew that she was staring at him with her famous You-do-wrong-by-me-you'll-wake-up-underwater glare. "Fang's a sensitive, brick walled little jerk, so don't make me rip off your down feathers, 'kay?"

Iggy absentmindedly rubbed his wings at her words, and then got up from her bed and walked toward the door. He closed it behind him and smiled. "Supportive and caring?" He scoffed. "I can do that."

"LUNCH TIMEEE!" Iggy scream-sang to the rest of the house, prompting every one of every four species living in the house to come down to the dining room in record time, human, bird-kid, dog, and mutant-dog-thing alike. Dr. Martinez was at work, but Ella was home for some national holiday or whatever, so essentially the gang was all there. Iggy exited the kitchen with a giant platter of hot dogs already bunned and an assortment of condiments, as everyone seated themselves. Iggy set the tray down and sat next to Gazzy and Ella on either side, across from Fang and Nudge. Max and Angel took the end chairs, and everyone, except maybe Ella, took a good five hot dogs for their first round. Halfway through her third hot dog Nudge spoke up.

"Iggy?" She asked tentatively. "Are these those tofu dogs I pointed out to you in the grocery store the last time we went?"

"Uh..." Iggy took a bite of his own hot dog, chewed it, contemplated for a bit, and then swallowed. "Nope."

"What?" Nudge spewed whatever hot dog was still in her mouth back onto her plate again. After the resounding "ew" issued, she wiped her mouth and exploded. "I told you a million times Iggy, I am a vegetarian! I can't go around just eating all of these poor little animals just because of your sick mindset that you have to go around and slaughter everything you see, cook it and eat it! There are other methods of gaining nutrients in the world, you know, not just eating every single cute little living thing around you! There are veggies and fruits and grains and all that stuff that is so good for you! We don't need to go around eating this disgusting slop! Animals are just so mistreated! That white chicken in the nuggets at McDonalds? That is sooooo not actual chicken; it's the gross chicken parts! Seriously Iggy, have you ever had a celery stick in your life? Just put some peanut butter in there, it's a good nutritious snack! You are so lucky I'm not a full-out vegan or I'd be like arresting you and sending you to like animal activist jail!"

The flock listened to Nudge's tirade silently, Max rolling her eyes and crossing her arms and the kids staring expectantly at Nudge, waiting for her breath to finally run out. Iggy chewed slowly as she spoke, lids half closed as he gradually became more and more bored listening to her drone on. Fang hid his head in his hands. Unblinking, Gasman gradually reached forward and grabbed a hot dog from the middle of the table, pulling it back and shoving it slowly into his waiting mouth. When Nudge finally finished, Iggy blinked once and grabbed a hot dog out of its bun from the middle of the table.

"Listen here, bucko," He sneered, pointing the hot dog at Nudge, but he got his aim a little off, and ended up making it look like he was addressing Fang as well as Nudge. "I can eat my mystery meat if I want to eat my own damn mystery meat."

"Iggy!" Max snapped. Iggy flicked his wrist to exaggerate his point, making the hot dog jiggle. Fang screwed up his face in distaste. Gazzy beamed.

"I have nothin' against vegemawhaterians," Iggy continued. "But I refuse to be oppressed by the fact that meat is not delicious to you. This hot dog," Iggy waggled his hand again, and Fang bit his lip. Iggy picked up another wiener in his hand and shook that, too. "And this hot dog, are offended by your tyranny. They were so graciously prepared by the Hot Dog God for your enjoyment, and what do you do? Spit on them!" Iggy was now practically shoving the hot dogs right into Fang's face, leaving the rest of the flock and Ella in giggles. "All you do is make them feel bad for being made of meat!"

"Iggy..." Max stifled her laughter, trying to get his attention. "Iggy, you're...Fang..."

"So if you don't like my cooking, you can take your malformed taste buds somewhere else." Iggy finished with a huff and a smirk. He blinked and turned slightly before laughing and positioning himself toward Fang again, hot dogs in hands still extended. "Am I making you uncomfortable, Fang?"

Fang turned his head away, looking at Max desperately. She, of course, just laughed. "Yeah, a little, Ig."

"Aw, you don't like Wittle Iggy?" Iggy said in a baby voice, retracting his hand and plopping the hot dogs on his plate before smothering them with ketchup. Fang bit his cheek, sending Nudge, Ella, and Max into uncontrollable laughter, and Angel's eyes widened dramatically, making Iggy laugh. Gasman blinked innocently, looking at Fang.

"Yeah, Fang, what's wrong with wieners?"

"Iggy, it's soooo hot!" Gasman whined.

It was hot.

It was damn hot.

It was soooo hot.

Iggy nodded his agreement, wiping the sweat off of his brow. Fang lounged in the shade of the willow tree in the backyard, arguably the only thing yet untouched by the Dynamite Duo and their epic explosives on the whole property. The craters and mounds everywhere made for awesome cover during paintball wars, though. Those were always fun.

Except for days like this where Iggy was pretty sure that the paintballs would freaking melt it was so hot.

"Why do you get the shade?" Gazzy whined, sweating in the sun.

"Because I'm older." Fang responded.

"False, sir!" Iggy announced, and dove under the shade of the willow next to Fang, spreading his long limbs out over the other, poor avian kid. Fang squirmed under Iggy's weight and he smiled at Fang's discomfort. "See, look! Perfectly doable. C'mere, Gazzy, share the love."

"No thanks!" Fang grunted out. "I could do...without the love sharing. Really. I'm fine. But thanks for offering."

"I'm not offering." Iggy scoffed. "I'm doing. Gazzy, love me."

Gasman protruded both Iggy's and Fang's personal space and fell on top of them, effectively squishing Fang beneath the two of them. He huffed in annoyance. "Why did Dr. Martinez have to kick us out of the house! There's an Xbox in there, and this isn't cool at all! It's still hot!"

"Allow me to fix that for you, hun."

Max was there. Max was there with a squirt gun. Max was there with a Super Soaker.

"Prepare to die." Max hissed. Three pairs of eyes stared up at her for a few silent seconds, impersonating does in headlights.

"ME FIRST!" Gasman screamed, wriggling off of Iggy and Fang and running straight at Max. Max backed up and shot a heavy jet of water at him, hitting his chest and effectively soaking him on sight. Gazzy cried in pain and joy, whooping as he ran at Max as fast as she backed up. Fang flipped Iggy onto his back, running after them.

"I want some!" He shouted, sprinting into the stream of cool, cool water. Iggy growled and ran after them at full speed, yelling at the top of his lungs.

"Get off, you douchewazzles, it's my turn!"

Iggy knocked into Fang, who fell on top of Gasman, who was jumping onto Max. They fell like dominoes past the corner of the house and right into a semicircle of small girls holding big water guns.

Max had brought friends. With Super Soakers.

They were suddenly completely outnumbered and outgunned and totally screwed.

Everything went still.

"Attack!" Angel screamed, and the world became a mishmash of water and squeals and grass and tickles. Before Max could recover Iggy swiped her gun out from under her chest and scrambled to his feet, grabbing the back of Gasman's shirt collar as he ran. Gazzy grabbed a fistful of Fang's hair, ignoring the yell of pain that it elicited from him until Fang had gained some footing on the grass. Iggy decided that he was going to be badass that day and launched himself over a mound of dirt and sand and previously buried dog toys, landing in the crater and pressing his back against the dirt wall, gun to his chest. Gasman and Fang tumbled in after him, landing on their stomach and their ass, respectively.

"Alright," Iggy breathed, holding a hand back in the other twos' general direction. "We're gonna run out and attack them all. Gasman, douse the small ones with your fumes while I attack head on, and Fang, you go from the rear and attack Max from behind. Just, you know, jump on her and flatten her to the ground until I get her and soak her to the bone. What color shirt is she wearing?"

"White."

"Perfect." Iggy nodded at Fang. "You good, buddy? You know, unless that makes you, well, uncomfortable, or whatever."

Fang gulped. "Uh..."

"Good. So, on three, I'm going to scream 'kumquats', okay, and then they'll all be wicked confused, and that's when we charge. We all set?"

Fang crawled forward, eyebrows furrowed in frustration. "Iggy–"

"KUMQUATS!" Iggy screamed, leaping out of the ditch and running across the yard. Gasman followed him, arms up and screaming a battle cry. Fang cursed and clawed his way out of the crater, muttering a continuous stream of obscenities as he crawled. The sight before him sent him charging into the fray himself, Gasman having stolen Ella's water gun and turned it on her and Angel. One of Nudge's wings was covered in mud, and she was down on the ground, trying to wrestle a muddy shoe out of Total's grasp, who of which had decided to join the fight. Max and Iggy were grappling for the Super Soaker in the grass, shouting censored swears at each other as they fought. Fang ran over, grabbing Nudge's arms as she reached for her water gun and pulling her away toward the other end of the lawn kicking and screaming. After depositing Nudge on the ground, Fang turned around to run back toward the battle, but by the time he arrived, it was too late. Max grabbed the gun from Iggy's hands and pointed it at him, firing what had to be the Super Duper Awesome Painful Soaker setting at him. The jet of liquid hit Iggy square in the chest, knocking him back on his buns as the water soaked every inch of him, leaving even the ends of his ginger hair dripping. Fang was about to spring forward to avenge him when suddenly a wall hit him from above and suddenly he was ten pounds heavier with the water covering him from head to toe. Wiping his saturated bangs from his face, Fang looked up into Gasman and Iggy's bedroom window, where Angel, Ella, and Gasman were smiling down at him, holding a large, and now empty, bucket.

"You've just been crossed!" Gasman cackled.

Fang sighed and walked over to Iggy and Max, where Max was laughing triumphantly at the poor ginger on the ground. Fang stood over him, holding at a hand. Max walked away, giggling, to help Nudge out of the mud and douse her with the garden hose. "Need some help?"

Iggy just held up a pale hand, and Fang grasped it in his own, pulling a waterlogged Iggy up onto his two feet. Once he was vertical, Iggy was all smiles, and he cocked his head to the side.

"Where's Max?"

"Oh, um, she's over there, torturing Nudge with an outdoor shower." Fang remarked, watching Max chase Nudge across the front lawn.

"Oh, well then." Iggy shrugged, and proceeded to just practically begin stripping in the middle of the backyard.

"Whoa, man!" Fang backed up a step, hands up in front of him. "What the hell are you doing?"

Iggy froze, his wet t-shirt halfway up his torso. "I'm taking my shirt off. I'm wet."

Fang's face flushed in a sweaty blush, skin suddenly clammy. "Wait, like...right here?"

"Yeah." Iggy muttered through the t-shirt, which was now completely covering his face. "We're both like, dudes, right?"

Fang stood frozen for a moment before spinning around and walking briskly back toward the house. Iggy stood up straight with a puzzled expression on his face, wringing out his hair, utterly shirtless. "Fang?"

Some days life sucked. It was one of those days. It was always one of those days for Fang.

Always.

"Hey Fang, you're strong, right, get this bookcase off of me."

"Fang, can you help me, I can't cut this cucumber."

"Hell, Fang, did you give me Gasman's pants?"

"Can you turn Friends on?"

"Lookie, Fang, I found a website that can tell us if we're soul mates!"

"I'm sad. Do you wanna snuggle?"

"Hey, Fang." Iggy muttered, walking tentatively around the couch. When some furniture guys came in and brought new sofas and coffee tables, they moved Dr. Martinez's whole set up about two feet, which had really thrown Iggy off for a little while. After he had tripped over Total and onto the edge of a table instead of a cushion, he'd been walking around a little hesitantly. "Can we talk?"

"Unless it's about Die Hard or the growing potato stash Gasman has in the closet, the chick flick moments can wait until I'm dead, thanks." Fang deadpanned, stuffing popcorn into his mouth as his eyes didn't leave the television screen.

"I know I've been kind of a jerk lately..."

"You're a jerk always."

"And kind of inappropriate..."

"We are talking about you, right?"

"And I've been avoiding talking about this to you, I guess I just decided making it funny would make it go away or something."

Fang tore his eyes away from the screen and to the pale ginger bird kid staring over him, his sightless eyes not-so-trained on the wall past him with birdies painted on it. "Ig, what are you talking about? Is this about not watching Friends? C'mon, man, you know I like that show, it's just I've seen like every single freaking–"

"Nah, it's not that." Iggy felt for the couch cushion and sat down, plopping his feet on the coffee table. "It's like...I was cooking, and Nudge was being Nudge, and she walked past you and Max in Max's room, and apparently you guys weren't making out, which would have been my first guess."

Fang furrowed his eyebrows and put down the bucket of popcorn, looking at his friend. "What do you mean?"

Iggy took a deep, rattling breath, pulling at his hair with his long fingers. "I...I just want you to know, man, I'm not, like, homophobic or anything–"

"Max told you I'm gay." Fang said it first, not Iggy. Iggy was just the one inwardly freaking out in the corner. Things were normal.

"Well, not specifically, really," Iggy gulped down a swig of some ginger ale. "Just, I dunno...Iggy-sexual, or whatever."

Fang stifled a laugh. "Iggy-sexual."

"I don't know, man!" Iggy exclaimed, a grin breaking out on his face and making his freckles stand out. "I never get any answers, and it's not like I know whether you spend time looking at me or anything."

Fang huffed. "That's not how anything works, Ig."

"That's how I'd work if I could see."

"Yeah, well, you're weird." Fang muttered. "But you're...we're cool, right?"

Iggy shrugged. "What can I say? I'm stuck with you forever anyhow. We're already, like, BFFL's for life. And you're pretty weird too, so I guess you can join my secret club."

Fang pulled his lips to one side, and then scooted a bit closer to Iggy on the couch, tentatively reaching out a bit and touching his hand–not holding it, really, just...whatever. Iggy shook his head and grinned at Fang, and they just sat there, smirking, like the weirdoes they were.

They had a total of fifteen seconds before Gasman stormed down the stairs and the timer for Fang's favorite pie (everyone's favorite pie) went off in the kitchen, sending the entire flock from wherever they went during the day into the living room in hopes for early pie-snatching. But they got fifteen seconds. It was awkward as hell, but it was adorable, and that's the way avian kids roll.

And maybe life wasn't really all that bad or boring, anyway.


Aw.

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