A/N: Welcome to my oneshot. I won't bore you with pointless information, so here's what you need to know:

-This is set after the Flock escapes the School, but while Jeb is still living with them, and approximately four years before the first book.

"Pass the ball, Max!" Iggy shouted, waving his arms rapidly. "I'm open!"

"Go long, Ig!" she cried, and Iggy did so, tearing across the familiar rocky turf.

Somewhere far behind him, he heard her grunt, and he knew she had thrown the football. Picturing the invisible line between the two of them, and adding in the whizzing sound of the football as it approached, Iggy caught it perfectly. His teammates, Max and Angel, the latter being forbidden from playing football on threat of no T.V. for a week, cheered.

Suddenly, Angel yelled, with the speech of a two year-old, "Run fas'! Fang's coming!"

Psh, I can outrun Fang Iggy thought, but then reconsidered as Fang's fingers brushed his t-shirt. He pumped his legs faster, football, nestled safely under one arm, and promptly stubbed his toe on a rock. Iggy stumbled forward a few steps, muttering words he'd heard a whitecoat use when Max had punched him in his mad-scientist face, and resumed running.

Maybe a foot behind him, Iggy heard Fang's panting. He must have caught up when Iggy had stumbled. Though he knew Fang would probably claim he was cheating, Iggy unfurled his wings and took a leaping bound into the air.

He was so convinced that he'd escaped that it took him a moment to recognize the tightening at the top of his foot, and to realize he was falling the several inches he'd managed to fly. Face covered by his arms, Iggy hit the ground hard. For a second, he thought he had managed not to het hurt, but then he gradually began to feel the endlessly annoying and shamingly painful burn of scraped and cut skin.

Fang took his foot off of Iggy's shoelace, releasing the slight pressure on the blind boy's foot. "Iggy, are you okay?" he asked guiltily. "It was an accident, Ig; I'm sorry. Please believe I'm sorry."

"S'okay," Iggy muttered, reminding himself firmly that he had suffered much worse at the School. He stretched a hand up, and felt Fang grab it. Pulling himself to his feet, he said, "I think I'm gonna go inside. See you guys later."

Pattering footsteps announced Nudge's arrival. She had been on Fang's team, with the Gasman.

"Yeah," she agreed. "You should, like, put some band-aids on that one cut. It's kinda, you know, gross and bleeding and stuff."

Iggy nodded and headed for the E-house, taking care not to step on his untied shoelaces. He trudged up the front steps, cradling the arm with the cut Nudge had spoken of, and reached for the doorknob. His hand groped in thin air where the knob should have been, and he frowned. Reaching a few inches farther, his hand touched cloth. The winged boy recognized Jeb's sweater with a distinct feeling of dread.

"You've been playing football again, haven't you?" Jeb sighed.

"Yes," Iggy admitted reluctantly.

"That's what I get for leaving the Superbowl on. Stupid kids," Jeb said underneath his breath, and Iggy assumed the only good whitecoat had forgotten how good his hearing was.

Jeb ushered Iggy inside and seated him on the couch, telling the boy not to move until he got back. Minutes later, Jeb was carefully squeezing antibiotics on band-aids and then smoothing the bandages over the worst of the cuts. Then he began lecturing Iggy about the importance of keeping shoes tied, and even seemed surprised when the blind boy groaned.

"But I don't know how to tie my shoes!" Iggy protested.

"Oh." Jeb fell silent, leaving Iggy with no clue as to what was going on. "I suppose I'll have to teach you, then. You are ten years old."

Iggy groaned again. "You've tried that before. Let's just face it: I'm a failure at life!"

"Shoe-tying," Jeb corrected. "You're a failure at shoe tying."

Iggy rolled his eyes.

"Now, picture a rabbit-"

"I don't like rabbits," Iggy interrupted.

"I don't care. Picture the rabbit-"

"I've never seen a rabbit."

Jeb glared at him in frustration. "Fine. Picture a roller coaster-"

"A what?"

"Just picture a stupid loop you-!" Jeb cut himself off with a strangled noise.

Iggy waited patiently. This was hardly the first time this sort of thing had happened.

When Jeb spoke again, it was with forced calm. "Picture a loop. Actually picture two. Made of spaghetti."

"Spaghetti? Like, cooked, slimy spaghetti, or that stiff raw stuff?"

Jeb exhaled loudly. "Forget it. Think about shoelaces instead."

"What, no more clever analogies?"

"Are you ten or not?"

"Fine. Thinking about shoelaces: now."

"Good… Do you know what a knot looks like?"

Iggy decided that this was going to take a long time.

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"What are you doing?" Max asked, appalled, as she walked into the living room.

Iggy, sitting on the couch, almost crying in frustration, turned his head toward her.

"Jeb's teaching me to tie my shoes," he said miserably, holding up a knotted shoelace.

"No, Iggy, pull the String A under String B and then pull it back over," Jeb moaned, ignoring Max.

Max shook her head. Sometimes Jeb could be so stupid, father figure or not. "Let me teach him."

"I appreciate your offer Max, but Iggy and I are making real progress, here," Jeb growled. "I will teach him to tie his shoes properly."

"Um, yeah, about that… No. Just… no. I'll teach him," Max said flatly.

"I can do it just fine!"

"Please let Max teach me," Iggy moaned. "Please."

Jeb stormed off, Max's loudly whispered "adults" ringing in his ears.

Max vaulted over the couch's back, landing neatly next to Iggy. She unknotted his laces patiently and moved one of his hands to each lace.

"Now, remember what I do," she instructed, and moved his fingers to tie his left shoe.

"Did I get it?" he asked excitedly.

"Yep. Try the other one."

Iggy, being the quick learner he was, tied the second shoe without a problem. The pair high-fived, and then sat there silently for a moment.

"So…" Max said. "Wanna go play some football?"

A/N: I promised Fax, didn't I?

"Does he like me?" Max whispered in agony, watching a conveniently shirtless Fang do push ups for some manly reason or another. After finishing more than any normal human could possibly do, he stood up and walked over to her, body glistening with sweat, a strange look in his dark eyes.

He began to speak, but then hesitated, unsure if mere words could convey his feelings. Finally, he seemed to reach a decision, and pulled Max closer to him, placing a finger on her lips when she tried to speak.

Then, and oh, it was amazing, he kissed her.

-End Fax-

Thanks for reading, and please review.