So I've been extremely MIA. And I decided that I wanted to try picking up this story and writing again. And for those of you who hate me for flaking and then suddenly reappearing...TADA! I present to you: FLUFF as a retribution gift. And because it was a long time coming. Also side note: rating might get an upgrade, but perhaps I'll just save that for another story. Enjoy the chapter.

In the competitive and renowned sport of laser tag, there are two styles of war: one can either get their Rambo on and go all Kamikaze on enemy lines, or hide behind the barriers, clutching onto the laser gun for dear life until the enemy tracks you down and destroys. Being on a "randomly assigned" team of four 12 year old boys and Nudge against four 18 year olds (Fang, Iggy, JJ, and Michael) and two tweens comes at a huge disadvantage. It makes going ham on enemy lines a big no-no and hinders you from even leaving your base, because let's be real: someone's gotta protect it. So imagine my frustration when no one on my team even thought of strategizing and immediately ran off manically with their laser guns at the start of the game? Damn youths.

"Sulking doesn't look so good on you, Max," JJ laughed as she and Michael victoriously strutted out of the Laser room arm in arm. I pretended to pout while I walked towards the counter to return my neon gear. Sure I'm crazy competitive and am more bitter than an Olympic silver medalist when I lose, but I had had more fun tonight that I had for the past month. I figured that warranted a good mood.

"Oh shush JJ, those boys ruined the entire game! I'm pretty sure those 12 years olds just shot at each other for an entire round, even though they were on the same team!" Nudge growled as she started to untangle her laser gun. I grinned, glad to see that the competitive attitude was alive and well in the Ride family.

"Thanks for defending our honor, Nudge. Had we been assigned fair teams, you know we would've EXTERMINATED them," I laughed, using a robotic voice as a reference to Dr. Who. JJ swatted me with her neon sweatband as I dodged away and ran right smack dab into Fang's solid chest.

"And this is why I was able to tag you fifty times throughout the game, Ride. Watch yourself," Fang said lightheartedly.

"More like ten times, tops! And what is this; we're referring to each other by our last names now, Batchelder?" I replied, emphasizing Fang's last name and cocking my eyebrow. I enjoyed our verbal spars a bit too much and realized that Iggy, Nudge, JJ, and Michael had turned their full attention to us both.

"Only because this is war, Ride," Fang answered in a low voice, his eyes staring intensely into mine, almost hinting at x-ray vision.

From behind us I heard JJ say in a singsong voice, "All is fair in love and war," and deliberately ignored her. After staring back up at Fang, I had to look away from those dark hazel eyes. I mumbled something like "touché", removed my gear, and headed towards the bathroom, trying to hide my bizarrely flushed cheeks.

"Yal wait up, I'll just be two minutes!" I exclaimed, pushing open the door to the women's restroom. I shook my head, trying to scramble the image of his eyes out of my brain. We were just friends. Scratch that. Fang and I were just acquaintances. Platonic acquaintances. We simply have mutual friends and we occasionally make friendly conversation. See? Platonic. Acquaintances. I passed by some girls around my age looking in the mirror and walked into a stall, trying to convince myself that staring was totally normal between platonic acquaintances. But then again, Fang wasn't normal. And he really wasn't just an acquaintance.

"So basically our friends are assholes," Max snorted, fiddling with the radio tuner in Fang's car. He turned his head to quickly look at her face in the passenger seat, noting that she didn't look too pissed. This was a good sign. When Max had come out of the bathroom, she found only Fang left, waiting for her, with a story about how Michael, JJ, Nudge, and Iggy ran outside and jumped into Michael's van without warning and told Fang to drive Max home. Fang grimaced, remembering Michael's words that this was the "perfect opportunity to talk to Max about the feels that you two feel and to hug it out." Some plan, huh?

"I'd agree with you, but I don't know how you'd take your sister being included in that asshole category. She had her part in the plotting as well." Fang faintly smiled a Max, and to his surprised, she smiled back and shook her head, her blonde bangs brushing against her forehead.

"No, I definitely wouldn't take it well. She's naïve and foolishly likes to match-make, but she's no asshole. She's a sweetheart," a pause, "you know, I'm glad she's dating Iggy. He brings out the best in her. Makes her more tolerable and….and how she used to be before our mom died." At this, Max turned to look out the open window. It was still hot out for mid-October, and at 70 degrees, it was the perfect temperature. The open window brought in a slight breeze that teased Max's long hair and flushed her cheeks. Fang realized she was probably thinking about her mom, and instinctively reached for her hand. Having lost his own parents when he was young, he could empathize. She immediately turned her strong grey eyes to him when his right hand held her left, but she did not pull away. Fang swore in the mixture of the moonlight and streetlight, Max had never looked so beautiful. He couldn't help but stare.

"You should keep your eyes on the road," Max teased, breaking eye contact and looking straight ahead.

"The light is red," Fang replied, still staring. Shit. This was probably the part where he talked about his feelings right? Maybe apologized? He didn't know where to start. Especially when it seemed like now wasn't the most opportune whilst thinking of lost loved ones. But he wanted to broach the topic. He needed to.

"Do you mind if we take a small detour before I drop you off?" He asked, staring at her, willing her to look back at him. Max sighed.

"Depends on if I like where we're going," she turned finally giving him the small but sincere and trusting smile he'd been waiting for that entire evening.

"Trust me. You'll like it."

Imagine my surprise when we pulled up to a golf course. "Wow, you didn't take me to some god-forsaken forest to club me over the head," I joked, feigning surprise after we got out of the car and walked onto the immaculately trimmed green grass.

"Sorry to disappoint," Fang grinned. As we walked further into the golf course, a large cool breeze blew by us and I was reminded that I was only wearing a tank top and yoga pants from when I was kidnapped earlier. I tried my best to contain my shivers, but damn Fang and his staring.

"You cold?" He stopped walking and made a move to take off his leather jacket. Immediately I placed my hand on his arm, preventing him from removing it further.

"Don't," I breathed, "I'm a big girl and I while I do enjoy wearing men's clothing, I'll be the chivalrous one and let you keep your jacket. We don't want your dainty arms getting chilly," I smirked as we continued walking. He sighed in defeat and gave me a little smile. Did I want to wear his jacket and take secrets whiffs of it throughout the rest of the night? Well, duh. Did I want to see his toned, tan biceps along with the faint outline of his pecs underneath his black V-neck? Mayhaps. But I needed the chill breeze to remind me to not get too comfortable with Fang right then.

Agreed Max. Let's be real: you plus Fang's jacket and his pheromones equals you jumping said owner of the jacket all the while making dumb kissy faces.

Wow, thanks helpful voice in my head. I internally rolled my eyes, trying to shake off the horrible feeling and memory of the night of Bogey Lowenstein's party. I could not let my guard down and make a fool of myself again. After all, Fang made it really clear that we were just platonic friends-ish.

"Okay, we're here." Fang said, bringing me out of my internal musings. He immediately plopped himself down onto the trimmed grass, stretched his long legs, and folded his arms behind his head. His shirt rode up a little and I saw a few dark hairs on his lower stomach peeking out from above his belt. I glanced back up to his eyes and saw that he had one eyebrow raised, questioning. "Uh, excuse you, Max. My eyes are up here."

My mouth popped open briefly in embarrassment and surprise before turning into a scowl. Pursing my lips and shaking my head, I immediately lay down beside him on the grass, staring up at the starry sky. The gall—no, the nerve this kid had to tease me back! Honestly, it was actually quite…refreshing. I quickly cleared my throat.

"So what's so special about this particular patch of golf course?" I asked, nervously pulling out small grass strands beside me. Another cool breeze passed over us and I stifled another shiver. Come on, Max. Power through! You live in Chicago. A nice breeze is nothing.

Fang twisted his body and pointed to the flagstick standing a little ways above from where their heads were resting. "I got arrested after pole-dancing around this exact flagstick one night," he grinned mischievously, his chocolate eyes searching my suspicious narrowed ones. A beat. "But in all seriousness, when my parents died, I moved here to live with my grandfather. But I just couldn't sleep at night anymore. So I'd come out here and just lay on the grass, staring up at the stars and thinking about my parents." Thinking again of my own mom, I instinctively reached over and found Fang's hand. It was large, calloused, and so so warm. Oh god, when had I become so soft and nice? I mean, me initiating hand-holding? That never happened. In fact the last time someone held my hand on accident, he got kicked in the shin. Sorry Tommy Pendanski. I was a different girl back in the third grade.

My thoughts escaped me when Fang squeezed my hand back. Still looking up at the sky he continued, "I guess there's really nothing special about this one place. But I was drawn to it when I was younger and it reminds me of those I've loved and lost." At this he turned to look at me, his hair falling partially over his right eye. He gave another small smile and my breath caught. I could get used to this.

"Oh dear. I really can't tease you about that. This is a shame," I whispered back. We were facing each other now and for a moment neither of us just said anything, we just stared at each other as time seemed to stand still. But before I could suddenly shout "boo!" to startle Fang, I saw the green in his eyes again. And right then I realized that for the first time in a really long time, I was attracted to someone. And not just any someone, but the quiet, intimidating, and as I recently found, playful Fang Batchelder. Never breaking his gaze on me, he brought my hand up between us. Still staring into my eyes, gauging my reaction, he brought my hand close to his lips, turned it over, and kissed my palm so tenderly it made me shiver more than the cool breeze had that entire night. I sighed and a ghost of a smile appeared on his face.

"I want to try something," I blurted out, suddenly feeling bold as butterflies attempted to burst out of my stomach. "Now, I've never done this before, so lie very, very still. Your life may depend on it." Looking amused, Fang release my hand to lie back down. "Now close your eyes," I added, before he could object or question my motives. Fang gave out an exasperated sigh.

"Manners, Max. One must always say 'please,'" Fang replied, closing his eyes and folding his arms behind his head once more. I leaned over him and stifled a snort.

"Okay, please shut up." And before I could chicken out, I leaned over and kissed Fang Batchelder on the cheek. Okay, scratch that. It was a failure of a kiss. Seriously, I forgot to pucker and there was no suction at all. Just the front of my face pressed up against the side of Fang's face. And based on my extensive knowledge on kissing (note the sarcasm), I knew for certain that a good kiss was anything but what I had just done. I quickly went in for attempt #2, and satisfied that Fang had yet to scream bloody murder and run away with his arms flailing wildly above his head, giddily whispered, "2-0, Max in the lead," and returned with my back on the grass, eyes towards the stars, and my heart beating wildly like never before.

Fang chuckled beside me. "Ahh, I think I know how to play this game." And with that, he leaned over me, his warm body pressed against my cold one and placed a kiss on my left cheek, my right cheek, and another on my nose with the same tenderness and attention he had first given the palm of my hand. "3-2, and the lead is Fang's." As soon as he lay back down, I kissed his forehead, his jawline, and the wee corner of his mouth as gently as I possibly could and responded with a snooty, "5-3."

"You're really something else, Max," Fang breathed, turning over to his side and supporting himself with his right arm. Leaning over me, he kissed the left side of my face from my temple to my jaw three times, agonizingly slow.

"Just something else? Not beautiful, witty, goddess divine, or raucous? My, my, Fang. You really do need to work on your compliments." I teased, subtly inching even closer to him. You know, for the benefits of his body heat.

"What can I say?" He kissed each of my closed eyes. "You render me speechless most of the time." A teasing kiss to the corner of my mouth.

"Look, your compliments are already improving!" I moved to kiss his nose. "I'm a slave to your charms!" I teased, whispering in a dramatic voice. Another chaste kiss to his cheek.

"Like that night after Bogey Lowenstein's party?" I stopped myself just as I was about to kiss him again and quickly narrowed my eyes. Talk about bad timing. After tapping into my inner-feelings, I decided to just be nonchalant about it all.

I leaned back and quizzically searched Fang's face. I narrowed my eyes. "You're just trying to stall me. What's the score?"

"9-7, my lead," he answered a little too quickly, but then sincerity flooded his face. "I really am sorry about what happened that night, Max. Just the whole thing with Sam—"

"What about Sam?" I removed my hand from Fang's arm, confused about what Sam had to do with any of this. I tried searching for some kind of answer on Fang's face but found very little. This was all very, very sketchy and I didn't like it one bit. No way, José.

"I—I guess I just didn't want to be like Sam. You know the kind of guy who takes advantage of a girl when the opportunity presents itself." His face became serious and guarded.

I slowly nodded my head, somewhat accepting his answer. "I guess I also should then apologize for my drunken attempt to assault you. Sorry." Fang laughed, his eyes literally glistening with amusement. My cheeks burned.

"Any normal person would call it a kiss. But you? You call it assault."

I snuck a kiss to his temple. "Speaking of which, I should probably stop assaulting your face." Another kiss to his cheek. "But it's just so assaultable." A small hesitant kiss to his neck. Fang took a sharp intake of breath. After I made a move towards his earlobe, he gently pushed me back on the grass as he hovered above me.

"Max, this assault is serious. And wildly, wildly inappropriate." His dark hazel eyes bore into mine, seemingly growing even more serious and dark.

I nodded my head in agreement. "You're right, this is so inappropriate. We should stop this immediately." Fang wrapped his arm around my waist and brought himself even more tantalizingly closer, spreading heat throughout my body like wildfire.

He whispered just barely above my lips, "You know, if you back out now, you lose this game. And if you kiss me first, you also lose. And we both know you don't like losing, Ride." His warm breath spread over my face and I could practically taste his words.

My attempt to clear my throat came out more like a grunt. "That won't happen this time, Batchelder. I mean, I'm not even attracted to you," I mumbled, staring at his mouth.

"Clearly," he deadpanned, bending down to kiss my right cheek. Before he could, I grabbed a fistful of his shirt, decided, "oh fuck it" and pressed my lips against his. His hold on my waist tightened and his right hand cradled my cheek as I slowly brought my arms around his neck. His lips were warm and inviting and he deepened the kiss, biting my bottom lip and slipping his tongue past. Exhilaration filled me and my body pulsed with a nervous energy. My limbs became entangled in his and between breaths when I could actually hold a rationale thought, I wondered where exactly his body ended and mine began. Sure, I lost another game for the second time that night. But losing never tasted nor felt so good. I don't remember how long we were there on that golf course. But I do remember what happened when the golf course sprinkles suddenly went off.