AN: I'm sooo sorry for being late, but you guys have a lot of reading to do. You thought I was beat up on the last chapter (7,000 words to be exact) ? Just you wait

Just you wait...

HAPPY READING

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James POV-

With hesitation, I moved from out of the curtains and took one last look at Greta before I was fully exposed. I prayed for the first time as I crept along the side of the glass walls, Whoever is out there, if you're real, whether it be the voice in my head or the Angels I oppose, don't let me die today. Don't do it for me, do it for Greta.

More screams were heard and another gunshot as I stopped in my tracks to see the fat man, holding a young girl by her hair, pressing a gun to the side of her head and one body falling to the ground. Two bodies laid before the helpless girl who looked around 5 years of age. This is wrong, that has to be her parents. It all just reminds me of what Moriarty does in London. The unconscious me unaware of what he's done until the end when he tortures me with all the memories.

A plan. I needed a plan. My two men, and my private jet are in Utah. What should I do...?

Assessing my situation in seconds flat was an easy hobby of mine. The exit was behind the door that lead out of the lounge, of course the airport was all open to the lounge, but the way to get out on the runway held a series of hallways. Maurice called the police and I'm certain so did others, but there should be security, unless they're all helping citizens outside.

My plan was made. Distract them until authorities arrive, then they'd be outnumbered. As I was about to take action, I heard the skinny man shout. I hit the ground behind a bench. I couldn't let them see me yet.

"Napoleon! Goochy goochy goo! Come on out! You know who you are...and we know where you are...don't make us come and find you. I'm sure this young lady would hate for any delay in your arrival..." He said slyly, his voice was rough and forced like radioactive gamma waves through a concrete wall. I swore to myself if they touched that girl, I would rip them to shreds with my bare hands. I needed Moriarty right now. A yelp from the young girl was all the motivation I needed.

Standing up and creeping close to the man's back while he was looking the other way, I could feel a smirk coming on. He's here.

Moriarty is here.

I became halfway unconscious and suddenly my words weren't my own. I could only think about protecting Greta and the newly orphaned girl. She seemed to notice me too, and her big green eyes widened, her blond hair still in the grasp of the fat man, unaware of me.

As the man turned around to face me, he jumped back several feet. At the noise of him stumbling, the 'fat guy' looked my way, startled as well.

"You rang?" My voice croaked yet it was not my own.

"Oh! You- uh...you showed up." The skinny guy propped himself up and pointed his gun at me, shifting eyes with the fat man.

"Well?"

"Well," the Marshmallow Man interjected, sneaking quick glances at his accomplice, "it's just that-What was that?" A loud banging noise scared all of us as we began to look around for the source. Maybe it was the cops who finally decided to show up as actually help. London inspectors were just the same. Always showing up after all the work is done.

"It's just that we've been expecting you...after what you did to our boss's right hand woman... he's not a very forgetful person, you know. " Celery interrupted, saving whatever Pillsbury Dough Boy had to say earlier before we got distracted.

"I know. She deserved it." I spat with a rage I've only felt when I let Moriarty control.

" Oh, there you are!" A voice boomed from a ways away. I knew that voice right away. From the corner of the darkened airport you could see a female figure. "I knew the man in the lounge was not the Moriarty we all know and love."

"That Moriarty is still here, and he's not leaving."

"Not unless we kill him." The Stewardess fully emerged and joined her gang of suicide shooters. The fat man looked askance. I, however, was unaffected. I was used to death threats like compliments to a Super-Model.

"But, Leslie, that's not what the Boss-"

"I don't care about killing him physically, Ringo. We're gonna kill him mentally..." She was sly that was for sure. What did she mean by that? "Oh? Who is this?" She knelt down towards the little girl, who fidgeted in Donut's (Ringo) grasp. She tried to back away from the ever creeping closer 'Leslie' but Ringo pulled her forward by her hair. The girl yelped as her body lurched forward. "What's your name, little girl?" Leslie asked, with a fake sweetness added to her voice.

The girl did not answer, she only glared at the woman. I admired the bravery and stupidity of the girl. I only feared she did not know what she was dealing with. If my suspicions are correct, these mental patients work for Miguel Francessca. The second most dangerous man in the world. His empire is climbing, and climbing fast. Too fast. His credentials almost compare to mine. His empire is close to rivaling my own.

"Are these your parents?" She kicked one of the bodies and pulled up the head of who I could only assume is her mother. The girl did not respond again, and stayed silent like a mouse yet the state she held was close to a lion's. "Oh, she looks like you...so pretty..." Leslie cooed, taking out a knife from the inside of her heels. "But-! Oh...this isn't very acceptable!"

The girl whimpered as the Stewardess, Leslie, blew her black long hair out of her skinny face and inched the knife closer to the already dead mom.

"Oh, no. Not acceptable at all. They have a beautiful young daughter! They should be smiling!" Taking the knife, she stabbed the tip into the cheek of the woman. With a flourish, the knife was drawn all the way across her mouth to the other cheek. The real me wanted to throw up but Moriarty had seen worse, so there I stayed, in awe of the insanity of this woman, 'Leslie'.

The young girl began to cry and whispered, "No, no, no..."

Leslie smiled dangerously at the girl and began to play with the mom's dropping mouth, pouring blood like vomit.

"Oh? You don't like that they're smiling now? Well, maybe you should answer my questions..." Dropping the body, she put a hand on the girl's shoulder and methodically played with the blade of the knife. "So. What is the name your smiling parents call you?"

"Shirley." She said quietly, hiding her face from the knife Leslie was holding close.

"See, Shirls? That wasn't so hard, was it? It's simple." Leslie gave her a cold smile and twirled the blade before plunging it into the mother's stomach.

"God, you're so messed up..." I blurted out without thinking twice. Leslie turned towards me, her hip turning to one side as she raised her eyebrow.

"Me?" She argued as she pointed at herself with her slender finger. Her nails were painted a black color, a color Greta would never be. She'd always be that light purple in my mind. I suddenly remembered her hiding spot behind the curtains and wondered how she was. She's heard everything, seen everything. My eyes shifted towards the curtain.

When I had given my speech, I knew if she was there, she'd hear everything. I wanted to let her know how I felt before she hated me. I lied to her about myself, I lied about who I was, and why I was where I was when I had met her.

You can't love someone you don't know.

"You're not so innocent either, Mr. Perfect." Leslie continued to lecture. "You want me to go through all your problems?"

I said nothing but glared at her with a stare equivalent to a thousand gunshots and a bomb being dropped on her small body.

"Oh, that's right! You're playing the good guy for that girl, right?" She took a step closer and I cocked my head to the side, not even caring that I was still at gunpoint by Pencil Man, as if to say, 'One more step and the light of day will be nothing but a faint, distant memory'. Lucky for her, she got the memo and she didn't come any closer, but teasingly waltzed around me. I can't control Moriarty all that well, so pissing him off will leave you with no mercy. "Oops! Probably shouldn't have said anything then. Oh, but wait! Where is she?" Leslie teased. "Did she find out who you were? The monster we are all guilty of? You're judging me on how messed up I am, but you! You're the icing on the cake, Mister!"

I never let go of my stare, but I felt my bottom lip shake the slightest bit, trying to hold it all in. I took deep breaths and did everything I could to calm myself.

Don't listen to her, you still have me, I'm good. I'm here, too.

Rip her throat out.

No, it just proves her point. Ignore her, save the girl and Greta. She'll be less mad if you leave Leslie alone. No matter how evil she is.

Listen to yourself, you've grown weak!

Greta always says showing kindness is not weak. Don't listen to yourself.

I willed myself not to scream at the fight going on between myself. Satisfy yourself, don't give in to evil, satisfy yourself, don't give in to evil. It was always an endless battle for me. Until Greta came along and showed me the power in simple mercy and kindness, I was lost in which direction I should have taken. I would continue to follow her, instead of Moriarty while I was in the USA. It was part of our deal, and not killing Leslie now will still stick to our oath. I'm not reading any rules or regulations by sparing her. Anyways, if I find her in London, I will not hesitate to smite her. For a split second, my gaze returned to Greta's hiding spot.

"That's what I thought." Leslie continued. Now, I know this may have came as a surprise to you, this whole ransacking of the airport, but trust me, this is all for a good cause."

"What kind of a 'good cause' is this?" I whispered, my glare towards Leslie was transferred to the man who was holding the gun at my head.

Leslie, who has the hearing ability of a hawk, snapped her attention towards me yet again and smiled. "Donald, let this sexy, clueless man know the good cause in what we're doing."

The man holding me at gunpoint took off his mask, a mischievous grin dancing on his sharp features. His brown eyes that matched his hair twinkled with an insanity I've only seen in the mirror. Him and Leslie both had a mesmerized look on their faces, as if blood and torture hypnotized them in a deep, happy trance.

Again, I checked where Greta was, to see if she was there. I looked down to see her feet still there, stone still.

Good girl, I had thought. If she made any noise she'd be dead where she stood. The thought of Greta dead made me sick to my stomach. More sick than witnessing the torture of Shirley's already dead mother. You just don't kick a man when he's down.

"Gladly." Taking a step forward, Donald's grin turned from mischievous to cocky. I challenged him by taking a step closer. His hand, still trembling despite his collective look, brought his gun closer and began to load it as he spoke. "See, listen here, what we're doing...it's simply ridding the world of a psychopath so another, better psychopath can take his place and his rule." He clicked the bullets into place and cocked the handgun back, aiming it around the room and stopping at my forehead. If Moriarty hadn't had taken over, my breath would have caught in my throat but instead, I stood where I was. Breathing normally like being held at gunpoint was a normal occurrence and for Moriarty, it most likely was. Bringing the gun down and shrugging with it still in his hand, Donald raised an eyebrow. "Call it your own abdication. After all, history does repeat itself. Except, you'll be exiled to a more...permanent island."

Stupid yet clever history reference. As the gun was brought back to my forehead, I took one last look at the curtain. Her boots were still there, underneath the slit of the curtain.

"Wait, wait wait." Leslie put a hand on Donald's shoulder. Ringo took a step, the girl, Shirley, being dragged behind him.

"What boss?" His thick voice boomed. Leslie smirked and nodded her head in the direction Greta was hiding. My eyes widened as I followed their gaze and quickly shot my head back. All three of the thugs, including Shirley, peered with curious looks.

"I think the Napoleon's Empress never left him, boys." Leslie's voice cooed, and she raised her eyebrows. "Shall we?"

"No..." I muttered. I didn't care that I was under gunpoint, I was going to save Greta. When they opened the curtain, all logic set beside, I would fully unleash Moriarty. There's no say in what will happen, but I can't let her get caught.

Analyzing my situation, I realized that Ringo's gun was fully unloaded except for one bullet. If I knew anything about thugs, it's that their aim sucks. One bullet against me doing whatever I have to, makes him outnumbered. Donald, however, was fully loaded. If I could grab a hold of his hand and completely get rid of his bullets, I'd just have to worry about Leslie's knife. I'd have to be quick about it so I don't get shot myself before I could save Greta.

My heart began to pound and my mouth felt dry as I stood still. There were only feet away from the curtain. I wanted to yell at her to go, to get away before they could even see her but that would give them an advantage and a reason to shoot me. You would think they were dealing with one of my henchman instead of myself.

Ringo strained his neck to see what was going on as Leslie grabbed hold of a corner of the curtain.

Greta POV-

I watched with trembling hands as James ran away from behind the curtain, careful for it not to show me. I immediately had to come up with a plan. My last glimpse of James showed him sneaking around to not startle the men.

My head was swirling with decoding everything he had said to me. Did he really love me so early in our relationship? I guess my mother and father only dated for about nine months until my dad proposed. I was sure it was just a spur of the moment kind of thing with us, though. I wasn't sure how I felt yet. Of course, there was no time to think about all that since we were in the middle of a life-or-death situation.

The statue of George Washington I was next to was right up against the wall and this curtain I was using was not a comforting hiding spot.
If I could just move this statue, I could hide from behind it, I thought, and looked around for some way I could move it without making a sound, just enough so I could hide behind it.

Taking the hair binder that was rapped around my wrist, I put it in my hair in a low, messy ponytail. But really, who cared at this point? Some of my thick hair immediately fell out since I could o it wrap it around two times before it would combust on me, but I didn't really make a deal out of it, my mind was places other than my appearances. My clobbering rain boots would make noise if I were to step anywhere to move it. Careful not to tip them over, I slipped my foot out to reveal my penguin socked feet. Appropriate socks for the situation, Greta, I thought to myself.

When I faced the statue, I realized it was bigger and heavier than I had believed it to be. Thanks, George Washington. You just had to have a big, burly statue. Go be president somewhere else.

Sighing to myself quietly, I worked myself halfway in between. With one arm wrapped completely around the back and the other holding onto the corner facing me, I blew a strand of hair that fell out of my messy ponytail and willed with everything in me to move Georgie. To my surprise, it didn't take much at all, with the kind of force I was using to push, the statue slid enough for me to hide in. I could see from my perspective James was still hiding as I found the source of the scream that snatched him away from me.

If was a little girl. A little girl with blonde hair and big, green eyes. Another woman was being held at gunpoint and was begging for the girl's life.

"Please, sir. Don't kill her. if you have to, shoot me. She deserves to live more than I do." The woman cried, as entire being shook with fear at what they would do to what I assume is her child. Looking down towards the bench, I caught sight of pair of legs on the ground and a trail of blood flowing down away from all of the mess.

I remembered James and looked to see if he was realizing what was going on here too but he was looking around the room, in his own little world. Knowing James, he was most likely thinking about what he would do, so I didn't try to bother him. His eyebrows were furrowed and his eyes were squinted, but his eyes always did the most talking. They were assessing every part of this room and the airport connected.

"Oh, yeah?" The bigger man had challenged. His mask was a frightening kind that I knew would give me nightmares.

"Yes."

"Okay." As the man cocked his gun, the mother and daughter watched with fearful eyes. I think it took us all a while to realize what he was going to do and once the mother got to the conclusion, she rushed forward to her daughter.

"Shirley Curly, I love you so much, remember us-" She was interrupted by a gunshot and the little girl's screaming. The whole room went quiet as the mother's body fell. My mouth fell open, and a choked sob came out that I silenced right away. Immediately, I turned my back to the statue, and slid to my knees.

Don't let this girl become like me, please God.

With her parents shot in front of her, her face reminded me of my incident and I felt guilty for going there. I wanted to comfort her, I wanted to fix the situation, but knowing how I handled it at 20, how was she supposed to handle it at 5 years old?

These lunatics were not kidding. They were here to kill and destroy this place. But why? What is their objective beside chaos?

Since I couldn't just waltz out into the open and ask them why they were killing people, I stuck around to figure out. And as I waited, they began to taunt someone named Napoleon. Instantly my mind went to the movie, Napoleon Dynamite, and whispered to myself, "Tina, you fat lard, come get some dinner."

Suddenly realizing I had zero impulse control when it came to real-life, dangerous situations, I mentally slapped myself for laughing. I willed myself not to turn around and see what was going on, to see whether or not this Napoleon was here and what they would do to him.

Reluctantly, I stayed behind the statue so I would not get caught y the dangerous men. I didn't think, if I had died because of them, that James would forgive me for disobeying his orders to stay behind the curtain/statue. This goddamned statue.

"You know who you are...and we know where you are...don't make us come and find you. I'm sure this young lady would hate for any delay in your arrival..." Another, different voice called out. Instead of the deep and booming voice the bigger man had, this new man had a squeaky one that made him seem like he was a late bloomer.

A yelp from the young girl made me jump in surprise. What were they doing to her!? Were they hurting her? I had to check, I just had to. I wouldn't be able to live with myself witnessing another death I could have stopped. I could help and I knew I would, I'd just have to think of a plan. How could anyone live with the death of dozens on your shoulders? How could anyone go day-by-day without taking time just to think about them and remember them. When Alexis Lillidelchi died, my forced therapist (when I was transferred to the psych ward) told me just to forget about them, forget they ever existed, but why...why would you want to murder someone twice in your mind, the most horrific place in your body? After all, doesn't everyone want to be remembered?

Turning around, I was able to see the bigger man pulling on her hair but no huge wounds were inflicted upon her. There was no gunshot but that didn't mean they didn't have knives or even bombs. My back was now back against the side wall. In full exposure, but this man was keeping them on their toes. But what if it was a woman? Then I'd be screwed, they'd think it was me, kill me, then I'd be screwed. I'd miss Thanksgiving dinner! My favorite dinner in the year!

I couldn't find James anymore, and I grew scared. There was a man creeping up behind the skinnier man, but I could tell, just by his presence, it was not him.

"You rang?" A new, croaky voice echoed, scaring the entire airport. I kept my eyes shut, I didn't want to see what they would do to him, even if they were surprised to see him in the first place.

"Oh! You- uh...you showed up!" The skinnier man said, from all the way across the lounge, I could hear his gun shaking in his hands. They were gonna do it, they were gonna kill him. In order to stay sane, my mind went to happier places. The Cinnabon! Why hadn't I thought of it before!?

In the Cinnabon, there was a fire extinguisher. Somehow, I'll have to open it so I don't start the fire alarm and I could use it against the men. After all, there were only two. But I think the big one added one more. More dialogue went on as I spoke, and I realized that I missed half of the story. Tip-toeing quietly, I started my journey to the Cinnabon once again. But of course, my feet had to get to best of me, as one went over the other and tripped me. I was fine, except I bit my lip.

"-What was that?" A voice boomed, more specifically Fatso McGoodHearing but turn against, China could've heard me fall. Holding my breath, and scoring over towards a bench, not a single sound was made, but soon, I was getting hysterical and almost bean to laugh at myself. I had to puff out my cheeks to keep it from coming out.

To my surprise, and slight humor, no one checked where I was hiding to find the source of the sound. Or in other words, me. Now I knew, I was destined to do this, no matter how hard it will get. I needed to help and redeem some trust in myself once again.

When the small man began to intervene the silence, I knew all attention on me was lost. Slowly getting back up, I noticed only the little girl was watching me. Putting my pointer finger to my lips and smiling, I signaled for her to keep my being a secret. She smiled small-like back, and it broke my heart a little. I wanted to snatch her and James, and go away.

James! Where was he? I looked around the waiting area again, crouched behind the bench at this point so I wasn't in long-term exposure. When my eyes caught onto the mystery man, I realized it was him. The mystery man was James.

He probably went on a limb and suggested they didn't know what the Napoleon looked like and pretended to be the real guy to save the girl. Or was it him? It made sense that he would feel responsible and try to help the way he wanted to behind the curtain, but James was no Napoleon. I would know, I'm his girlfriend.

Getting out of the area as fast as possible with making as little noise as I could, I raced to the Cinnabon. My mind instantly going to a theme song like, 'The Eye of The Tiger' or 'I Will Survive' by Gloria Gaynor. I guess the airport sound system had a different choice, playing 'Staying Alive' by the Bee Gee's. The one group I absolutely hated in this world, with a burning passion!

Rolling my eyes, I continued on, determined to stop this. As I grew farther and farther away from James, I grew closer and closer to my destination.

A female voice stopped me in my place, "Oh, there you are!" Scaring me half-to-death thinking they were talking to me, I took a defensive stance. That was when I realized that it was coming from the other end of the airplane. Damn girl, vocals much? I had thought. Turning around, I could see the figure, slender and provocative, from where I stood, in the dark of the west wing of the airport. Only the shop's lights were on, and I could see the Cinnabon.

More muffled voices spoke, and although I couldn't make out any words, James was angry. I've never even seen him angry before, but just hearing him like that made me scared for the people around him. Except the little girl, he's always had a soft spot for children. And ice cream trucks for some reason.

I forced myself to push forward and achieve my goal. I wanted more than anything to be there with James, and to help him. You are helping, Greta, I reminded myself. You're helping everyone.

As the lights in different stores flickered on and off my body, I came to realize I was lost without people guiding me. It was eerily quiet and I realized I wasn't alone. From what I saw at the public lounge, there were two invaders (not including Ms. Model) . Was it possible there was a third, patrolling the building and keeping everyone in?

Deciding against it, I continued on, but as I did, I continued to hear rhythmic footsteps. To my amazement, those virtual stand up maps stood in the middle of the empty hall. Rushing towards it, but still keeping my steps light, I hid behind it. When the coast seemed to be clear, I took out my phone flashlight and shone it on the map. Of course, there was some glare, but it was still readable. In fact, the Cinnabon was just a right turn away. Guess I'm not that lost after all.

"Who's there?!" A voice suddenly shouted, an I realized I was in great trouble. Turning my flashlight off on my phone would signal someone was there after all so, so I gently set my phone on the ground, flashlight up, and
crouched low on the ground. "Come on out, and we won't have as much problems." The man's voice had a slight Latino accent, that was smooth and very persuasive. I was half-tempted to come out of hiding, but I knew what I had to do.

Sinking into the shadows, I crawled my way out of sight and was then able to see the bright Cinnabon lights. "Yes..." I praised myself quietly, and went to go bring myself up from my knees. Placing a hand on one knee, I pushed myself upright an started to run, right away, to the open doors of the pastry shop. Once I reached the doorway, I turned back at the feeling of being watched.

Sure enough, a slender and tall figure lurked in the shadows of the abandoned airport. If he had a gun, I knew I was dead and as I waited for the sting of the bullet and the shock of hitting the ground, I only experienced the surprise of the man chuckling and walking away. Did he not know I was going to sabotage his mission? He must think I'm so fatso who took advantage of an empty building. Not denying that I am, but that was not my intended reason to go to the Cinnabon.

I stood there for a while, wondering why he gave me mercy, and then walked into 'Heaven on Earth'. You would think going in a building determined on one thing, you wouldn't get distracted, but the moment I stopped in, my eyes skimmed the menu. "God, Greta, what are you doing?" I scolded myself. Shaking my head, I jumped over the counter to where the fire extinguisher was. Now, what to open it with? I thought. If I had sounded the alarm, the man outside would know I was actually up to something and not just getting a sweet bun or two before waltzing away from danger.

I wished I had my phone so I could learn how to pick the lock on the side of the red box attached to the wall next to the back where only staff could enter. Sneaking to the back to find the keys, I noticed several people huddled in a corner. They all cowered at the sight of me, most likely thinking I was coming to hurt them. Some were just citizens and others were staff here.

"Don't worry, I'm not here to hurt you." I cooed, softly. I knew the trauma of a shootout can make a human's mind go on crazy-mode so I decided not to push any more of their buttons.

"Are you here to help?" A staff worker asked, as everyone began to stand up.

"Are they gone?"

"Have you seen my sister?"

"How about my mom? Have you seen her?"

"I'm pretty sure my laptop is out there, too."

I was hit with a thousand questions all at once. I shushed them all and walked outside to see if that strange man was still patrolling my every move. Thankfully, he was not. "No, they are not gone. I need someone to get me the police on the phone, I left mine outside somewhere." I answered everyone and made a request of my own.

"What about our families?" A man with ginger hair spoke up.

"Don't worry about them. I just need the key to the fire extinguisher and a phone."

"A fire? Is there a fire?" Murmur ran amongst them. I shushed them again.

"No! There's no fire, I just need the fire extinguisher."

"Here," a young girl, staff, handed up her land yard over to me, "It's the Ace key."

I nodded in gratitude. "Thanks."

"And here, you can use this." Another voice piped in. A young woman who wore a fuzzy cat sweater and had side bangs handed me a flip phone. I looked at it, side-eyeing the relic.

"I need to call the police, not 2001."

Another phone was handed to me and I swiped to emergency call. As I typed in 911, I handed the lady her phone. Rushing out of the back and sandwiching the phone between my shoulder, I fumbled for the Ace key. Thank God, there was only one Ace key. I was expecting having to try three different keys three different ways in order to open the box.

"This is 911, what's your emergency?"

"Hi, we have a shooting at the airport, and the situation is getting more dire. There's two either dead or injured and they have a little girl hostage,"

"Okay, I'm gonna need you to slow down, hon-"

"I will not slow down, I'm taking action as soon as possible. My boyfriend is out there trying to distract them. Where the hell is the police?"

"Well, they should be there soon. We've had multiple calls-"

"Soon obviously isn't soon enough with two dead, is it? I snapped back. I finally got the key in and with a swift click, the door popped just enough open the I can pry it all the way out. Unhooking the extinguisher, I heard her stutter. "Just know I am taking action because you guys didn't. Alert your men that they need to get here faster or there's going to be more blood. My own if it must be, but I'm not standing around and doing nothing. Good day to you." Hanging up the phone, I raced back into where all the victims were hiding. I wasn't going to be a victim today. I wasn't going to watch as these men ruin other innocent people's lives. I wish someone would have intervened with my parents, I'm going to intervene for them. For the little girl. For Maurice and Lawrence. No longer would I stand back and wish for it all to be over.

Determined, I threw the phone back in and raced out of the Cinnabon. Well. If I had said that, it was a lie. I did turn back and take a bite of a cinnamon roll before leaving, but I deserved it! Especially after my speech with the lady on 911. Talking made me hungry.

Now, I was truly racing to save the day. Sneaking around corners and crouching down in light places where the moon's radiant beauty shone through the huge windows that replaced walls, I finally made my way to the area. I could hear the very same voices, and drifted closer to hear what was going on. I had to catch them off guard in order for this to work.

Two guns against a fire extinguisher. Sound like good odds to you?

"Donald, let this sexy, clueless man know the good cause in what we're doing." She said flirtatiously. What the hell did she thinks she was doing? Only I can think James is sexy...not that I did or anything...

It was then I realized that this woman was the very same stewardess staring at James during the plane ride. I wanted nothing more than to smash her face then and there.

"Gladly." The smaller man that had taunted the Napoleon earlier had spoke. "See, listen here, what we're doing...it's simply ridding the world of a psychopath so another, better psychopath can take his place and his rule."His hand reached into his pocket as he took out several shiny silver pieces, bullets, and clicked them into place in his handgun, cocking it back and aimed it, mindlessly around the public lounge.

"Don't do it, please." I whispered to myself. I was on the verge of tears. Not him, too. I know James warned me about this but I wasn't ready. I wasn't ready for him to be taken away from me.

Was this how James felt when he confessed beneath the curtain? Is this how he feels when he speaks to me? Was this the feeling he gets when I secretly catch him staring at me? When he stopped it at James forehead, I felt a lump grow in my throat. Don't do it. Don't take him away before I could feel more. I wanted my chance to look at him the way he does when I'm reading. I wanted my chance to feel more than just butterflies in my stomach when he laughs.

Or maybe that's it.

Maybe I've felt that feeling all along, and it took him confessing to me to realize it. Those late night phone calls where I pretend I'm awake while he's in London so he doesn't know he actually woke me up, and when we would sing in the car to all my CD's. I loved the time I spent with him, and every moment in between. Just knowing there was someone in my favor across the seas.

Maybe that was the feeling of love.

Maybe that's what I felt every time he smiled. Love.

I loved him. And although it took me to see him at gunpoint to realize what I was missing, it was a damn good feeling.

"Wait, wait wait." The very same, seductive female voice I had heard before I had grabbed the extinguisher, whispered. Creeping closer and closer, I could see the actual features of the woman as she placed a hand on the shoulder of a man who had James at gunpoint. Trying to keep my gasp in as I watched his face go from accepting death to suddenly worried, I watched as everyone's gazes landed on the very same curtain I was hiding beneath. I looked down at my feet to realize that I had, in fact, taken off my shoes making it look like I was still there.

The thugs and the woman crept closer as James frantically looked around the room. He looked like he wanted to rip them apart before they could even reach the curtain, and I felt my heart break. He really thought I was beneath that curtain and I was giving him a heart attack. I felt so guilty that I didn't realize the woman's hand was already on the curtain.

I rushed up while everyone's eyes were on the curtain and tapped the woman's shoulder. She jumped and turned around to face me. Bringing up my fist to my mouth, I cleared my throat as she continued to stare at me wide-eyed. All eyes were on me to see what my say would be in all of this, as I carefully chose my last words to say to this woman. "BITCH." I cried, and brought my arms back behind me and swung the extinguisher with such a force that an elephant could feel. And as soon as I had hit her, she was down. Lights out.

As soon as I did so, James rushed forward and grabbed hold of the skinny man's hands that held the pistol. Forcing them up the ceiling, James hijacked it so that all three bullets the skinny man had, was now lodged in the ceiling. Three loud bangs and everyone was quiet. With the woman down, I took the gunshots as my cue and popped the fighting man square in the forehead with the extinguisher. His eyes went cross-eyed as they finally shut and passed out on the ground.

James and I smiled at each other breathing heavily, both of us panting with our hands on our knees. Taking him into a huge hug, he twirled me around.

"I'm glad you're not dead." I whispered in his ear, humorously.

"I think I'm more happy you're not dead! But I did like the extinguisher bit." He responded, still spinning me.

"Oh. You might wanna stop spinning me, I'm not feeling all that well. I just had two Cinnabons." I felt like hurling. James immediately stopped and at this point I had dropped the extinguisher. I was more excited at the fact that I had kicked two thugs asses in a matter of seconds.

My favorite part of this whole endeavour, quite frankly, was not when the woman crumpled to the floor without any means of protest, but how the fat man handled all of the action. He just seemed to stand there with a gun in one hand, and you might as well had just handed him a bowl of popcorn and 3-D glasses. He took of the scary mask I had caught him, as well as the other man, wearing, and propped it up on top of his head. "Well, I probably could have reacted to that better."

I picked the extinguisher up again, and took hold of the young girl's hand, expecting protest from the man but instead he seemed to give me her. He continued to stand there.

"I'm Shirley." The girl said quietly. I bent down to her level.

"Greta Levine, nice to meet you." I greeted her. Shirley smiled shyly but then glared at the man who had a hold of her the entire time. Walking up to him, the man peered down at her, still stunned at the whole idea he had lost. Shirley's leg was raised back and in milliseconds flat, propelled forwards right where the Good Lord split us.

Shirley then walked back and sat on the bench as a twisted look of pain was etched on his face before crumpling to his knees. I glared at him too.

"I hope you learn from this." I whispered, swinging my arms back that still held the extinguisher and swung them back forward on the side of his face. "Timber!" I shouted, as he finally went down. Looking around the room at all the bodies on the floor, including the parents which gave me a newfound sadness, I sighed. "I could really use some Turkey and mashed potatoes right now. But I swear on my life, I'm never eating another Cinnabon ever!"

I hurried over to James and put my arms around him again, burrowing my face in his chest. His nostalgia was different again. Before he was angry and almost villainous, now he was gentle and thoughtful. I didn't care, though. I didn't care about anything that had just happened. I just cared that James was here in front of me, and not laying on the ground. Hot, silent tears rushed down my cheeks as he comforted me, putting his arms around me as well and placing his head on top of mine.

"It's okay. It's all alright now. I'm here. I'll always be here."

"Pinky promise?" I sniffled, and held out my pinky. He laughed and hooked his pinky with mine, his free hand on my hair. And there it was again. That feeling.

"Pinky promise."

+++

AN: AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAh

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