AN: *announcer voice* WEEEEELCOME TO A NEW CHAPTER OF GRETA! ARE WE READY TO RUUUMBLLLLLLLLEEEEE? This chapter is really kind of cliche at moments (sue me, a little is fine, at least they didn't meet at a coffee shop, alright? they met somewhere much much worse) but this one's pretty long, I felt much needed after the couple short ones I had and last chapter was a little goofy but fun to write!

HERE WE GO! Happy Reading! (Beso Beso) 

Moriarty POV- 

I patrolled the London City airport, seeming that was the least likely port they would go to which means they should be here. Hundreds of people seemed to have places to go as well, making it hard to spot Sherlock Holmes. If by chance, they were somewhere else, I'd be right behind them in a helicopter that was parked right on top of this building. 

I told them I never were to likely get my hands dirty. But this is way different. 

There were multiple cameras that we hacked into on every airport in the area, every airport the cabs would drive to. The cabbies have limitations to how far they can drive, and we have Sherlock trapped. There would be no getting away from us. 

My followers were dressed up as security guards, flight attendants, pilots and travel agents in a matter of minutes. One call, and off they go to do my will. And my only priority in the world is Greta. The only priority I want. I would move mountains for her, if it only meant I would be able to see her smile, hear her laugh, wake up next to her every morning. 

It's a crazy thing, when a psychopath falls in love, because when they do, they fall hard. They fall fast. And they appreciate it more when they love you back, because they understand how hard it must be to feel the same way for a maniac. A criminal. 

Which is why I never told her. 

I wasn't the same with her. 

I would never be the same with her. 

My earphone buzzed with the sound of glorious revenge. 

 "Sir, we caught sight of them. Heathrow Airport." A voice cracked as I stood in the middle of the airport, my finger in my ear, so I can hear better. 

"God damn it." I growled. "Go get them, then." I began to walk towards the doors that lead to the actual lot for the aircraft, where my helicopter would be waiting for me. 

"Yes sir. But, how do you want us to go-" 

"I DON'T CARE! JUST GET THEM!" I shouted into it, not caring about the looks people were giving me. I threw down the earpiece, and smashed it underneath my foot, in heated anger. 

They can't take her away from me. 

The double glass doors were getting closer and closer, beckoning me to get them so I can save myself. A part of me should have faith that Greta would still love me after she found out that I was a monster. The other part of me, knew what was more likely to happen. 

She'd run away from me. Scared. 

I'm feared everywhere. 

I just hoped she would be the only one to see me differently. To not cower at the mention of my name, or curse it. 

I rounded out the door, and felt my heart beat faster with every step. If we can't pin-point which plane Holmes and Watson had boarded, I'm done for. Everything would be over. My pilot, nodded at me, as I climbed into the passenger seat, and put on the co-pilot head set, making sure my sunglasses stayed on. 

The copter was soon in motion, as I watched the wrong airport grow farther away by the second. 

By car, the ride to Heathrow would take thirty minutes. But by flight, it would take ten minutes top and time was crucial. They would be boarding in less than an hour, and we still have to keep our sights on them, no doubt, they would do anything to distract us, or manipulate us to take a wrong plane. 

Without her, I become okay with the way I am, and never want to change. I look at her, and I see myself living a normal life. Without the killing, minus the stealing, manipulating and the cheating. I could be what she needs, I could become alright with just staying as long as I'm staying with Greta Levine, and Greta Levine stays with me. 

+++

-past- 

"So..." Greta trailed, as we held onto ice cream cones from a local 'Cold Stone' we stopped by. Her conversation starter came out more like a question than a statement. "Would you call this dessert or a snack?" She referenced her chocolate-chip mint cone while I had a boring old vanilla. 

I thought about it a while, playfully. 

"Definitely a snack, it's only, what, around noon? Dessert is always after supper." 

"I thought so too. But what if you had an ice-cream cone at four I mean would that be considered a..." I know she kept talking, but I could never comprehend any of what she said. Cliche or not, I was staring at her, taking in every part of her, from the gap in her teeth, the dainty-ness of her fingers, the way her nose turned a deep shade of ruby-pink in the bitter air. 

The way she walked. 

The way her arms moved went she talked. 

The way her nose crinkled when she smiled. 

Everything about her was special. She was like someone who's presence seemed like a dream itself. A dream I never wanted to wake up from. 

"Uh, James?" Greta snapped me out of my trance and I scolded myself for even being in one in the first place. 

"Oh yeah, I'm sorry." My eyebrows furrowed and I stared at my feet, placing my hands in the pockets of my jeans. 

"No, I'm sorry. I was rambling again. I really need to learn to control that." She tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear, and shyly smiled. Almost forced, as if she believed the fact that she was even close to irritating me. Which was far from the case.

"Never do that. I like that you're so passionate about everything you do. You put meaning into the smallest thing, I should be sorry I never met you before now. You are truly fantastic. Don't make yourself believe otherwise, that would be nothing short of a shame." I looked over at her and gave her a small smile. 

The book store was growing near, and I could just smell the crisp, autumn air. The weather here is much nicer than in the streets in London. It's either too hot or too cold. 

"Do you have any family, is that why you're in America? To visit them? I never really asked, I believe." Greta asked me. 

"Um. Yes, and no. I'm in America for week-long business conference. But I do have family, I'm just not in contact with them anymore." I admitted. Why, I had no idea. It just kind of slipped. My face twitched with an emotion of regret. I was afraid she was going to try counseling me, and I really didn't want that. 

"Oh. Now that is nothing short of a shame." She said, and nothing more. Which I was thankful for. 

"Do you?" I blurted. She shot her head to face me, eyes wide with confusion. 

"Do I what?" 

"Do you have a family?" I asked more cautiously this time. Realization hit her face along with a little embarrassment. 

"Oh yes. Well, had would probably be the best word for my situation. I don't have anymore close relatives." She said, glumly and threw her ice cream cone away. I did the same after raising an eyebrow. 

"What...what do you mean?" 

"My...uh...my mother and father both were only children, and so there goes aunts, uncles and cousins. My grandfather on my father's side went insane, and he's at a mental hospital. My grandma on my father's side died, the other grandma is in a nursing home in Kansas City and my mother never had a dad growing up." 

"Oh. I'm sorry." I said, awkwardly, since I had no idea of handling that problem. I noticed, she never faltered her voice, besides the one time, so she has no problem talking about family. But then I realized something. 

She never said where her parents were. 

"And your parents?" I tried, again as cautiously as possible. Her back stiffened, but we continued walking still. Greta sighed, and faked a smile at me, her hair falling from her shoulder parallel to the ground as she tilted her head. 

"They're uh...yeah...they're dead." She struggled. No tears came out, but a blank expression sufficed. 

"I'm sorry for pushing you, I-" 

"It's okay." Greta assured, changing into another forced smile, interrupting me. "You didn't know. Now you do, and I'm not hard for me to talk about it anymore." 

Everything about that seemed like a lie. It was still hard for her. It didn't take a genius like me to figure it out. 

"Okay." I scratched the back of my neck, as we reached the doors of the book store. I noticed Maurice with her hands cupped on the glass walls that revealed the inside and watching us with sparkling eyes. I chuckled. "I think your boss is waiting for popcorn with whatever film she's watching." I smiled waved at the elderly lady suddenly acting like she was never stalking us through the window. 

"Huh?" Greta whipped behind to notice Maurice as well who returned to stalking once I turned my attention to Greta. "Oh! Oh gosh, I'm so sorry." She shook her head. I chuckled again. 

"You say sorry to much." 

"I'm sorry-wait..." She paused, catching herself. We both jumped at the sound of the door swinging open and a loud voice yell. 

"So how'd it go!?" 

Maurice. 

"It went delightfully well, thank you Maurice, for sacrificing this lov-ely young woman for a few hours." I replied, politely. Greta snapped her face towards me, her dark brown-black hair following a few milliseconds later. 

"What makes you think I'm young?" She said playfully, a smile dancing on her lips. 

"Everything about you, Greta Levine. Everything." I replied, as smoothly as possible. Greta's cheeky grin never faded as we sat there, Maurice too (just a bit more awkwardly), in the moment.  

"Well!" Maurice interrupted. "I'm pretty sure Greta is free tomorrow? Yes. Tomorrow. Maybe you could swing by say...twelve o'clock? And pick her up for another stroll down Children's Street, perhaps." 

"That sounds perfect! Doesn't it, Miss Levine?" I asked, politely and sneakily asking her if that was alright with her. She just stood there, until she knocked herself out of her daze. 

"Oh! Yes, that sounds great!" She happily rocked on her heels, partially biting her lip. At least, I hope it was happily. 

"It's settled, thank you Maurice. See you two marvelous ladies tomorrow, then?" 

"Yeah! See you...tomorrow." Greta nodded, her head and walked up the small concrete steps to get to the book store front door. She smiled back at me one last time, as she went inside, leaving Maurice and I alone. 

"She's quite the young lady isn't she?" Maurice broke the ice, as I watched her walk back to her desk, from the window. She caught sight with me, and smiled. I gave her a small smile in return. 

"Yes, unlike one I've ever met." I said, the same cheeky expression on my face. 

"You be good to her, now. She's been through hell and back and she doesn't deserve anymore trouble." She said, suddenly becoming serious on the topic of Greta's safety. 

"No one like her deserves trouble." I admitted. "Have a good rest of your day, Maurice. I honestly thank you for everything you've done in a matter of one day." I nodded a final good-bye to her as I began to walk backwards, away from the comfy and homey aura of the Book Shop. 

"You too, Mr. James. Enjoy the nice weather." 

"Always." I muttered, before she turned to walk inside the lighten-up bookstore. 

That one walk I was given by myself, made me realize I really enjoyed being with Greta and that it was a friendship I would want to put all my effort into keeping. 

The leaves fell from the orange, red and yellow trees and you could see them twisting into a small tornado of colors in the air, and I zipped my coat tighter to me, as I felt my nose grow red from the biting air just like Greta's had done so. 

My limo reached me around the corner of a small range of stores all closed together into one skyline. I got in, and we soon began to move once again. 

And all I could do on the ride to my hotel was think of her. 

AN: HOLA! COMO ESTAS! MI ES FABULOSA! 

Okay sorry bout that, I just started taking Spanish and I love it (NO COMPRENDO WITHOUT MY BEST FRIENDO) 

But you know what else I love? 

GRAMES! (the ship name for Greta and James ship name...notice how I said James instead of Moriarty...*small evil laughter*) 

AND IF YOU DO TOO

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and I'll see you next week! (Adios, mi chicos! Tu es extremadamente fabulosa! BIEN BEIN BESO BESO)