Disclaimer; I don't own Maximum Ride. The brilliant James Patterson does. And I don't own Staplegunned. Nor do I own New Moon in all its crappyness.

A/N; Yay, my first Max Ride novel! W00T W00T! Hehe :D It's Niggy/Nudgy/NudgexIggy/you get the point :D 'Cause Nudge deserves some love. Even if it's from the blind pyro. Lol ;)

There's also a bit of Fax in this, 'cause you just gotta love 'em.

The title is from a song by The Spill Canvas, AMAZING song, seriously, you've GOT to hear it. Same with other Spill Canvas songs, I love them. And this song is totally perfect for this story, thus, Staplegunned was born :D A few lines in this are even from the chorus in the song.

Staplegunned

"So the werewolves were totally hot and all, but really! The book was, like, ten billion times better. Don't you agree, Angel? I mean, you read it, too? Oh, but you were Team I-Suck-Blood. That guy is so boring though! Vampires are so awesome, but this Edward dude is so lame! He's all 'Oh, Bella, I hate you. Oh, Bella, forgive me, for I love you with all the pieces in my tiny, messed up heart. Oh, Bella, stop hanging out with that bad boy Jacob so we can make tiny paper mâché hearts and proclaim our undying love for each other—"

"Welcome to the Nudge Channel! All Nudge, all the time!" The Gasman snickered, cutting me off.

"But seriously! They totally portrayed it wrong. I mean, it's my thirteenth birthday and I get stuck seeing a sucky movie? The book was so much better!" I complained. "The only good thing about it was Taylor Lautner! And Alex Meraz was really hot too. But other than that, the movie sucked. Iggy agrees with me! Right, Iggy?"

"Well, I'm not sure about the whole attractive werewolves, but other than that, I agree that it was a pretty crappy movie," Iggy agreed. Oh yeah. He's blind, forgot to mention that.

"You were the one that wanted to see it!" Max grumbled to me. I noticed that Fang's arm was around her shoulder. That reminded me...

"Yeah but I wasn't the one who was making out throughout the whole movie to the point where everyone avoided me!" I pointed out. True.

"Well—" Max blushed and stopped. Fang rolled his eyes and smirked.

"Why don't you guys just proclaim your love for each other already? Max has once, but she was overdosed on Valium at the time. I'm not really sure if that counts." Angel piped up.

"Wait, what?" I asked, along with Iggy and the Gasman.

"Long story," Max said, glaring at Fang who smirked down at her.

"Not really. All that really happened is—" Fang started, but shut up when Max whacked him on the head.

Max, Fang and Iggy were all fourteen years old. Today I turned thirteen (we found my birth certificate somewhere. Turns out I was twelve the whole time, not eleven, and it was my birthday today, December ninth. Oh joy) and Gazzy was eight. Angel was six (trying to convince us she was seven), but sometimes I swore she was sixteen.

Fang and Max were totally in love with each other, though they only really embraced it a while ago. Max could be so oblivious at times, even if she was the leader. She could fly at super-speed, it was totally cool. And Fang could disappear into his surroundings, 'cause he's so quiet and dark and stuff. Gazzy and Angel were the only blood related of us, and they were total opposites. Angel was a mind-reader and mind-controller, she could telepathically communicate with you. She had a pet dog named Total, who's a small black Scottie. Oh, and he can talk. Right now he's engaged to a malamute about three times his size named Akila. And there's Gazzy, otherwise known as the Gasman, which let me tell you, is a very apt name. Never be in the same room as him after he eats a burrito, words of advice. And he's the biggest pyromaniac you'll ever meet. As Max put it, you could lock him in a padded cell with only dental floss and a jello cup and he'd find a way to make something blow up. His partner in crime was Iggy. Sigh, Iggy...

Okay, so I was not going out with Iggy (yet). But I really, really wanted to. Not that I ever told him or anything. After all, he's just my older brother, the blind pyro. Just another member of the Flock. Just another guy with blue, blue eyes and gorgeous blond hair and wings...

Did I mention that we were 98% human, 2% bird? No? Well, now you know. That 2% provided us with huge appetites (sadly, in the Gasman's case), feather (no pun intended) light bones, a ton of muscle and awesome wings. Not to brag or anything. 'Cause, you know, because of them we'll never be normal, we'll always be freaks, we have to save the freaking world...

Yeah, no pressure. No pressure at all.

Why don't you tell Iggy how you feel about him? Angel asked me telepathically.

Er, because I don't feel like being laughed at, maybe, I said, emphasizing the last words.

You never know. He might surprise you. She said cryptically, then left my head. See what I mean about her acting more like sixteen than six?

Seven.

Whatever.

"Hey, Nudge?" Came Iggy's voice, and I swear my heart skipped a beat. Then restarted, pumping overtime.

"Yeah, Iggy?" I said quietly. I know. I was just as surprised.

"Whoa, is Nudge being quiet? Gasp! This is a monumental moment! Call the papers!" Gazzy exclaimed.

"Shut up, Gazzy," I muttered. "You were saying, Iggy?"

"Can I talk to you in private?" He asked.

Uh-oh.

Angel, if you told him how I feel about him, I will have your head on a silver platter.

I said nothing, Angel said in a sing-song voice. Yeah right. Little bird-kid probably told him everything that I've ever thought about him.

Iggy and I walked over to this bench thing near the theatre where we just saw the sucky-movie-that-shall-not-be-named.

"So, whatcha gonna say?" I asked him. His sightless eyes were staring right through me.

"How are you liking your birthday so far?" He asked, clearly stalling.

"Fine. Especially with all the cute guys." The cutest standing right in front of me.

"Yeah. I know what yu mean. Well, not really, but you know," Iggy shrugged, looking kind of embarrassed.

If that expression, saying that in every awkward silence a gay baby is born, was real, then there would've been a lot of babies being born in that moment who were about as straight as a circle.

"I like you," he said, seemingly out of no where. Well, that's probably because it was out of no where.

Okay. Let me just say that I was so not expecting that. Maybe him saying that he'd never feel the same about me as I did about him, but not what he just said. It was not in my list of possible outcomes. No where even near that list.

Sometimes I'm a very sad excuse for an optimist.

"Huh?" Came my oh-so-witty response.

"Do I have to spell it out for you?" He asked, running his hand through his hair like he did when he was nervous. Whoa. Iggy was nervous? Ohmygod ohmygod ogmygod that meant he was serious! "I-L-I-K-E-Y-O-U-N-U-D-G-E."

"I like you too, Iggy," I said, assumibng he meant he liked me as a sister.

"No, Nudge. I mean I like you as more than brotherly like, but, romantic like," he explained, not looking at me.

"Are you pulling my leg?" I asked cautiously. You can never be to sure.

"No. I'm actually being serious for once. What do you want me to do? Scream it in your face?" He asked, still looking away, a light shade of pink on his cheeks.

"Um, no. But, I never... I never knew you felt that way for me." Felt for me how I feel for you.

"I have. For a while I've liked you. I just need to know if you feel the same way for me," he said, turning his head back towards me and looking boldly into my dark brown eyes, as if he could see them. I wished he could see the giant smile creeping up on my face.

"Iggy, you are such an idiot. Of course I like you! Seriously, you're so oblivious some times. I mean, I know you've got some right to it, but come on, I'm not very subtle. I'm very conspicuous, actually. You're more oblivious than Max—"

I got cut off for the second time today, this time by Iggy's lips crashing on mine. My arms wrapped themselves around his neck and his were around my waist, every once in a while lifting up to feel my wings through my shirt. A reminder that I didn't need to keep secrets from him. A reminder of just another reason why I liked him.

Of course, I wasn't in love with him (yet) but the chemistry between us could destroy this place better than his and the Gasman's best bomb. Seriously.

And I wasn't going to let his go.

When we finally separated, Angel said I told you so in my head and the others were watching Iggy and I in confusion. Gazzy was singing "Iggy and Nudge-y sitting in a tree! K-I-S-S-I-N-G! First comes love, then comes marriage, then comes the baby in the baby carriage!" Where he learned that song, I don't know. Probably TV.

But I didn't really care about them at the moment. My motor-mouth had even stopped, as I stared at the boy I've liked since, like, forever. Who, apparently, liked me back. Talk about best birthdays ever.

"Happy birthday," Iggy murmured, smiling, as if he read my mind. I couldn't wipe the grin off my own face if I wanted to.

"It is," I agreed, and leaned down to whisper in his ear, "I think that we've got something here." Then I kissed him once more.

I was happy.

I was complete.

I was with Iggy.