Dear Ms. Maximum Ride,

First of all, glad you're back. Seriously. Everything was a total and complete mess while you were gone. It was almost as bad as the time we all split up and you went to Europe without us (you suck, by the way. Europe? I wouldn't be as jealous if you went to, say, Kansas or something. But Europe? I mean, come on. Couldn't you have waited for us to have that big huge cheesy McCheese reunion scene and then gone to Europe? No, apparently). Actually, it probably was worse. You have no idea how bad it was on our end of the stick.

But I get that your side sucked too, don't get me wrong. The whole thing kinda really sucked. I think we can agree on that, right?

So yes, I'm glad you are back, Max. I honestly, honestly am.

As I was saying, everything was a mess. All of us were...myself included. But especially Fang. Oh, especially Fang.

He was liked the Living Dead. I know Fang is always like The Living Dead, but this time, he managed to freak all of us out. I know Fang being a zombie isn't that far off the mark, but he was really crap. Fang was a Fang version of a zombie. It was like eat, sleep, sit and stare at nothing, repeat. It was bad.

Fang is the reason I'm writing this note, actually. You see, we members of your flock have all been aware of your suppressed sexual frustration/tension. We are not deaf, dumb and blind. Well...I'm blind, and I noticed. So it was obvious. Like running naked through traffic kind of obvious. Like running naked through traffic in winter. Singing the national anthem. With an army of ninja elves. Yeah, I mean, real subtle, Max.

Note the sarcasm.

Anyways, while huge cheesy McCheesburger reunion scene number deux was enough to touch the heartstrings of this mutant (and that's saying A LOT. I almost barfed in my mouth on the beach reunion last time), it was still a bit...much.

Okay, the running across the field, sobbing, was dramatic and looked like it belonged in a terrible romance movie (that is to say, amusing, yet slightly over the top). Then Fang started running towards you. That would've been fine if we'd all done that and had a group hug or something equally clichéd.

But we didn't.

No, you two started Frenching each other. In front of Angel, and your mom, and God and everyone in between.

Too bad it wasn't raining. That might have 1) made things even more romance-movie ugh-worthy and 2) disguised the fact that you were kissing each other in a way that must be classified as a very high PG-13.

Oh, and then Angel initiated a group hug. End romance movie.

How do I know all this, you ask? Well, Nudge described it to me. In full, lustrous detail.

She's eleven. In case you forgot. Oh, yeah, and the Gasman's eight. I think he went back inside to puke or bleach his eyes or something.

And Angel, who is six, had to listen to your thoughts whilst you were first-basing. I am fourteen, and I am not sure I could handle that. I might have to kill myself afterwards.

Shame, Max. Shame.

So, though I express sincere joy at your homecoming (seriously, Max) I must, on the behalf of your mother, the poor, young, innocent children, and your biological sister who all deeply admire you, ask you and your, er, beau to, for the sake of all that is pure and good in this world, CONTROL YOUR FREAKING HORMONES.

Like, seriously, take it down a notch, Juliet. Romeo is not going anywhere anytime soon. He is not leaving your bed (Heh, that's what she said moment. Ahem)...side. Trust me. I tried. He will not move. Even to do the flipping grocery shopping. He's leaving it to the blind kid, the shopaholic, the eight year old who mimics voices and the six year old with mind control.

So Romeo is now pretty much a freak. Or a stalker. But you're not going anywhere, so he can't exactly be following you, right? But if you were, he'd be following you. It's the thought that counts, right? So he's a stalker.

The point is...

We're going shopping.

Dontcha love anti-climatic moments?

Your mom said to leave a note, cause you two lovebirds were sleeping next to each other and according to Nudge and Angel 'lookin' so darn cute' (I'll take their word for it. That's something I don't need to see) and heavens know we didn't want to disturb you and the cuteness. Or you might wake up and kick our asses.

Oh yeah, and I told Gazzy to get a picture before you woke up. And he figures he'll live longer if you stay asleep.

Oh, and your mom swears if you ever do that again before you're eighteen, she will personally skin both of you. And I quote: "I know nothing happened. And nothing will happen for a very, very long time. Because if they do anything, um, questionable—or even somewhat close to questionable—then they will both be skinned in the most painful way I know." And seeing how she's a vet, with lots of sharp and pointy objects at her disposal, I'd take her at her word. So we thought we'd make the moment last a little longer.

You're welcome. Plus, you'll always have the pictures. Once again, you're welcome.

So that note is a little bit longer that We're at the store, back in an hour. But I thought you might enjoy it. Appreciate the effort, I even had to get Ella to proofread it for me. Oh and she says:

Hi Max! It's Ella. I'm SO SO glad you came back. We missed you. Fang, especially. But you know that already, right? Anyways, I think you guys are cute. Iggy doesn't, which is why he's writing this novel to you anyways. XOXO Ella

And now I'm back. So yeah, also, try and keep it PG around us normal folk. You star-crossed lovers can do whatever you want when you're alone (Ella, do not tell your mom I said that) but please. Spare us. Oh, and yourselves, because if you do anything past first base and Dr. Martinez sees it, you'll regret it before you can say PDA.

Oh, and the two of you (Hi, Fang, I know you're reading this over her shoulder) can prepare for a veeerry long and awkward chat with Dr. Martinez. And a veerrry long and awkward chat with yours truly. And Nudge too. And Ella.

Because what fun is having a boyfriend/girlfriend if you don't get teased mercilessly by those who you love dearly and would never kill?

You're going to kill me, aren't you. (That wasn't a question.)

Love ya both...

Iggy.

Dear Jeff:

Too right I'm going to kill you. A 'welcome back, and we'll leave you two alone' would have been nice. But ooooooh no. You wrote that—thing. I will thank you to stay out of my love life, you freak.

You're lucky I'm tired, Iggy. You better hope I'm asleep when you get back because, trust me, there will be hell to pay.

I am fully aware that Fang and I "first-based". Who made you, of all people, the chaperone? Thank you for your unnecessary and completely uncalled-for commentary of probably one of the best moments of my life. Yeah. Thanks. A lot.

But that wasn't even what sealed the deal. Not even the Romeo and Juilet quip. Oh, Ig, by the way, if I'm Juliet and Fang's Romeo, than who are you? Paris? Because, you know, Paris dies. Romeo kills Paris. I think. Or maybe it was Juliet. An angry and bloodthirsty Juliet. Yeah. Not the greatest analogy, now is it?

Not even the picture. Though for that, you can prepare for major butt-kicking. And then I will find those pictures and destroy them. That bomb-making you taught me may be crude, but it is effective. Ask those Association people in Boston where their building is, if you don't believe me. So I'm sure I can take care of a few pictures.

No, you pig. It was the 'that's what she said' bit. It was one of those 'the last straw broke the birdkid's back', y'know. Incidentally, your back is the one that'll end up broken. Although all the other parts of your charming letter helped guide me to this course of action.

Ella, I know you're reading this. I don't care if you are related to me, you are not off the hook, sis. You were an enabler. You are encouraging him! DO NOT ENCOURAGE HIM.

And that goes for the rest of you. I am still the same Max. I will still hurt you. I am just a happier Max. But I will still hurt you.

So be warned.

Oh, hi Mom. Don't worry about a thing. Me'n Fang'll be model boyfriend and girlfriend, okay?

Just as soon as I kill...everyone...in...my...family...

Oh, it's good to be back.

Max

Dear Iggy,

You die.

Fnick.

A/N: You can tell I wrote this late at night because I've reverted to my usual style: humor. But there it is. Are you happy now? Can I go back to procrastinating for Before It's Too Late?

Oh, hey, and if you haven't heard, there are 2 Maximum Ride FanFiction Awards going on. One by Myrah and one by OutsideJokes. Go nominate and read through the nominees, I've read a couple of really good new stories that way.

AndIgotnominatedforOutsideJokes'andIamsupersuperexcitedIdon'tknowwhointheirrightmindwouldnominatmebutSQUEE!

Ahem.

Thanks for all the reviews and support, you guys. This is dedicated to you. I love them. Without you, this would be a one shot. Or a two-shot. But not a three-shot. Everyone who requested "More, OMG MORE", I am looking at you. Thank you all.

That said...

It is over. Done. Kaput. Finis. Got it? NO MORE CHAPTERS.

Love you all...

BlueWingedKitty