AN: I had a plan...I could have sworn I had a plan to say something here... OH WELL, anyways, here's a random and semi-productive chapter for you all. For now on they'll be longer so it will take a liiiitle longer to upload. 

Happy Reading! 

James POV-

"-So tell me again, you hit them all with a fire extinguisher?" Maurice bombarded Greta with every detail of the airport incident while on our fifteen minute plane ride to Texas. Greta shifted her eyes as if she'd rather not talk about the whole ordeal. I completely understood, she obviously has questions for me as well.

What was I doing when the deranged mafia asked for a specific person? Why did I seem different? What was I hiding?

So many things were most likely running through her mind, a million miles a second, and I wouldn't be able to answer her. If she finds out on her own, she'd be even more angry then if I tell her myself, but I just couldn't do that at that moment. I'd just have to make extra sure she didn't find out until it was the right time.

"Yeah. I guess." Greta quietly remarked, sinking into her chair. I turned my head over to her and gave her a small smile. I knew Maurice didn't mean to overwhelm her, she was just still on an adrenaline rush. "What do you think is gonna happen to Shirley?" She mumbled, now speaking to me.

"Shirley? The little girl?" I asked. Greta nodded her head. "I really don't know." I shrugged, sadly.

"Do you think she's gonna end up like me? Before all of this?" Greta looked down, her head bowing and her hair falling in front of her face.

"She'll be fine if she does. Look around now!" I exclaimed. Greta looked up at me and smiled, but I could tell there was more she wanted to do or say.

She took a deep breath. "I just can't help but worry. So much happened to me after...ah, I'm just being over dramatic."

After her parents. Just say it, Greta. Tell me. I don't want to hold this secret anymore that I know.

"You're actually not, Greta. I'm just as worried."

"But you don't seem like it."

"Really? My hand is trembling. Feel." I held my hand out for her to grab hold of. As she did as I asked, she laughed at me lightly which caused me to smile. Her laugh always made me smile. "I tend to hide my emotions. It's what men do."

"Amen!" Lawrence piped in by putting his finger in the air, still not turning around to face us. You could hear Maurice slap him from behind them. "Ow!"

"Quite eavesdropping on their alone-time conversations! That's my job!"

"Yeah, it is." Greta teased her, straining her neck forward and tilting her head, as if to state how obvious Maurice was being. It was funny how just moments before she was gloomy, but now she was joking around.

As we all spent our time laughing and joking around with each other, it was like the airport situation never happened. Greta was back to her normal, goofy self, but I had my suspicions it wouldn't always be like that. All the trauma would catch up to her, and hit her like a ton of bricks.

And what I said about men hiding their emotions was true, I was scared shitless about the thugs I had encountered. When I was able to escort Greta and Shirley out of the airport, just as the cops arrived, they reported no bodies in the lounge. No thugs and no dead parents.

The police still called it a shootout, just a fleeting one. If the cops were able to show up earlier, they wouldn't have gotten away. I was in no doubt that Miguel Francessca was involved in this whole mess. If there was one thing he learned from me, was cleaning up after himself. Obviously, he was not as good as me (he never really was) but none-the-less, I was still worried.

The young girl, Shirley, cried and cried when they took her away from Greta. They had only met each other a few minutes beforehand and Shirley was already clinging to her. Greta always just had a welcoming and loving persona about her, from the first day I met her, well maybe not the first day but the days to come. I could tell Greta was fighting everything in her not to run after them and just keep Shirley but she lived several hundred miles away from her, there was just no possible way.

And of course, with no bodies, there would be no funeral. Shirley was too young to realize that. It was a sad thought, to think that she would be raised up in a orphanage/foster care and find out she never had a funeral for her parents. If I were more sane, that would have beaten me up throughout the rest of my life.

But then again, even with a funeral, Greta had extreme emotional wounds and I did fear she would end up like Greta before I had met her. Her eyes were so cold and powerful, and I was instantly drawn to the darkness I saw in her. Looking at her now, there was so much light that my viewpoints of her changed. I was no longer attracted to her sadness and pain, her joy and goofiness were so much more satisfying.

We never really found out what happened to make us all go to the airport in New Mexico in the first place, but knowing Leslie was a stewardess, I'm sure she came up with something. And to be honest, I did smell smoke. The urgency in the pilot's voice on the intercom signaled something much more than a re-fuel. An engine must have went down or something of an extremity.

Pulling out a phone and earbuds, Greta opened her phone and clicked on an app. I sat back and decided to get some awake-rest, as Greta liked to call it. It was when you were awake but just rested your eyes. I at least got five minutes in when I felt Greta doing...something. Opening one eye, I saw that she was making hand motions.

"What are you doing?" I laughed a little, as I spoke as she vigorously waved her hands and stared at her phone. Pausing to look up at me, she took out an earbud.

"Re-learning sign language. My teacher in High School accidentally taught us BSL instead of ASL, whatever that means." She said, meekly embarrassed. I couldn't control my laughs and I doubled over in my seat.

"Why in the world are you learning sign language?"

"'Cause I want to. Why else?" She said, laughing a little too.

"You do know that I know sign language right? And what you're doing in absolutely not sign language."

It was true. A client of mine, who was willing to pay huge bucks to murder the Prime Minister of Canada, was deaf so I memorized his hand gestures and boom, I knew sign language. I'm very smart. Or rather, he's really smart. I never really knew which traits were who's, we both just jumbled together.

"Really? I paid five bucks for this! Isn't this 'cats in the attic'?" She did some weird jazz hand move motion instead of the actual thing.

"No, that's how you say 'Christmas ham' actually. What app are you using?"

"Learn LSM today. It's a sign language teacher app thing."

"LSM? That's Mexican sign language, Greta."

"It is? Oh. I thought it was a form ASL. That's American, right?"

"Yes, dear."

"But then what's BSL? Because that's the form of sign language Ms. Potts taught us Senior year and she told us it was the way you get to learn ASL because it was 'an upper level'."

"She taught you British Sign Language? That's what I'm educated in."

"No kidding. They say you learn something new about someone every day, but I thought they were bluffing."

"Yeah, here let me check. What am I saying?" I spelled out her name and then added a few more words.

"I like music!" She exclaimed, giddy with pride. "Okay, let me try. Obviously it's the right kind of sign language, but you're better than I am and I'm a little intimidated." Greta chuckled a little bit and readjusted her body in her seat so that she faced me. Signing a little, she began to laugh in the middle of it, and then continued to move her hands some more.

I chuckled at what she signed and looked over at Lawrence. He did, in fact, have huge nose-hairs.

"So I'm guessing I did it right, judging by you're face?"

"Yes, yes, you did perfectly."

And we both laughed and laughed in the silence of the plane. Maurice turned around to us, and raised an eyebrow.

"You do realize it's almost midnight and you two are laughing like hyenas. Do you ever get tired?" She whispered. Greta raised her neck and looked around the plane, when her head came back to us, a guilty look was on her face.

"Um, she's right. The whole plane's asleep except us." She told me. I tucked the corners of my mouth in for a split second.

"Oh. I apologize." I turned my body back to the front.

"This is your Captain speaking, once again." The burly tone of the pilot gave static that made all the passengers cringe. I pushed at my ear, trying to pop it as the sudden noise created a ringing. Greta's eyes squinted shut as the frequency adjusted. "I apologize for the interference, we are landing in Texas, so if you'll stay in your seats until told otherwise, that would be greatly appreciated."

Greta let out a hefty sigh and slouched in her chair. "I'm preparing myself for the Martin spawns. And you should too, they're...different." She mumbled, to keep from ear-shot of Maurice and Lawrence. She failed.

"Are you insulting my children?" Maurice turned back, a look of non-legitimate anger on her face.

"No! Of course not!" Greta defended herself, but was interrupted by Maurice bursting out laughing.

"Oh, no I didn't mean it like that! I was wondering if I could join in!" She laughed again before turning around and hitting Lawrence on the shoulder. He leaned in and as he did so you could hear Maurice whisper in his ear, "Did you see the look on her face? Priceless!"

Greta rolled her eyes and looked over at me.

"But in all honesty, prepare yourself."

To prepare myself wouldn't even prepare me enough to meet these people. I could not imagine any spawns of both Maurice and Lawrence, the thought kind of scared me. When we got off the plane and into yet another airport, Maurice ran to see her family who were in a lounge area. Does every airport in America have the same layout or what?

The Austin-Bergstrom Airport was the same as every other airport I've ever been in. There was  a passenger drop off and pick up, lounge where you can find your family members, a baggage claim, shops and cafes scattered all around the area.

I've always admired how airports worked. Everyone knowing where they're going. In lines and in order. Maybe I'll start to base my criminal empire on an airport. Oh, and remind me to fire Kevin. Literally.

Go away. You're not supposed to be here.

Greta stayed beside me. "I'm nervous." She whispered and stopped in her tracks as Maurice began hugging her children and grandchildren. Lawrence was right behind her, hugging and even crying. They must not see each other often and seeing the reunion made me smile.

"Why are you nervous? You've met these people before! Do they even know I'm coming?"

"Oh yeah, Maurice face-timed her family about you right after you asked me out. Literally right after." She exclaimed, chuckling. I shook my head and grinned.

"Oh, of course."

"But...last time I saw the whole Martin's was a couple years ago. They always invited me but I hardly ever showed up. Holidays are always hard for me." She shrugged. I knew she wanted to talk about her parents. Greta never told me, I heard from Lawrence but she never told me herself.

"Don't worry about anything. At least you've already met them." I pointed out.

"Fortunately, that's true. They're gonna smother you with family love, not gonna lie." She forewarned. Oh god, please, I groaned internally. No more than hugs.

As we got closer, I got to take a look at the rejoicing family. It was, in fact, a big family. From what I could count, and believe me I did, there were eight entirely new people I'd have to tolerate for a weekend. At least I had Greta. I really wanted to impress the rest of the Martin's, it was like meeting her entire family.

"The thing is," Greta pulled me aside, obviously sensing my tension, "you can't act like you're trying to please them. They sniff that out real fast. Just be your intelligent and wise-cracking you and you'll be great, I believe it."

"Oh my God!" A woman's voice shouted, no doubt a Martin, from across the area. "Greta!"

At the mention of her name, Greta whipped her head to see a woman running towards her. She did the same.

"Oh my God! Juliet!" She shouted back as the woman wrapped Greta up in her arms. They both were laughing uncontrollably and the woman, Juliet began to cry even.

"I haven't seen you in forever, and you're just as beautiful as you're mother still. You haven't aged since graduation! Oh my God, we have to catch up- oh, hello! Are you James?" She let go of Greta.

"Yes, I am." I gave her a semi-awkward smile,as she gushed.

"Oh my God, Greta! He's even better than I imagined! Come here, you!" She raced to me and pulled me in a hug as I chuckled, taking her in. Yup, she takes after Maurice one-hundred percent.

Juliet Martin was a tall and skinny woman, taller than Greta, and had brown hair that was in manageable, yet frizzy curls. Her eyes were a brown, like Lawrence but held a more friendly feel to them. You could definitely tell she was a motherly figure everywhere.

"Oh-Oh my God." She raced back to Greta. "Mom told me his smelt good, and I didn't believe her at first, but he does smell good." Juliet suddenly paused and turned her attention back towards me, as I shifted uncomfortably on my feet. "Oh, I'm Juliet by the way."

"It's very nice to meet you, Juliet."

"Ooh! Manners, good going Greta. Let us go meet the rest of the family and get your guys bags, hm?"

"That's a great idea." I replied, walking alongside Greta to the rest of the Martin's. She nudged me in the side and grinned at me.

"What did I tell you?" She said, quietly. "They'll love you if you don't try and impress them."

I laughed from my gut quietly and shook my head as we neared closer and closer. Maurice put a playful hand on my shoulder as Greta greeted everyone. From what it looked like, no grudges were held onto her for not ever making it to their holidays. Tears were shed, mostly on the girls part, as they all rejoiced in family togetherness. If she had forgotten how much she was welcomed into that family, not a waking moment would she not be remembered.

It seemed like they were all in a line, hugging and crying, just to get a feel of Greta.

"Aye! Is this the lucky guy, righ' here? Am I lookin' at 'im?" A man with a bronx accent chimed in. He casually and coolly stepped forward to shake my hand.

"If you're referring to Greta, yes I am." I said, with a polite smile. This man seemed too...American for my taste. He had slick back, black hair and a strong jawline. Almost reminding me of a can opener.

"Like a said, lucky fella. I'm Tony and I'm sure you've already met my wife, Juliet. You are?"

"Oh!" I said, surprised at the formality of the man holding out his hand for me to shake. "I'm James, nice to meet you." Taking his hand to shake.

"Ah, look at this guy! Thinks he's gonna get a handshake? Nahh, you's one of us now. Come here!"

A hug. He pulled me in for a hug. Laughing lightly, I did not want to disappoint as I was squeezed harder than Juliet had before him. Maurice slapped Tony with her handbag and scolded him. What an old lady thing to do.

"Can't you see the man is being suffocated? Have some manners, really Tony."

"Nah, mama. He's all good, aren't ya, Jim?"

I was thrown back by the misuse of my name.

I like that. Jim. Jim. Jim Moriarty...

Shut up. This isn't your place.

"It's James but yeah, I'm fine." I corrected, him, readjusting my coat to fit my neck better rather than choke me.

"Ha! Look at this joker, he thinks his name is James. Sorry man, but this is America. You're being renamed, son."

"That sounds alright with me. But if you're going to make me an American name, it's gotta be Larry or something." I played along, thinking it to be best if I had done so instead of fight it. And I was right, Tony had busted his gut and leaned on my shoulder for support.

Jim. Jim. Jim Moriarty.

"Love this guy already." He wheezed out.

"What can I say? I'm pretty lovable."

"Well, you must be to spark Greta's attention. Whatd'ya do? Buy her a book or somethin'?"

"No, actually. I don't really know what I did. I'll have to ask her sometime." I shrugged.

"Ooh! Is that an accent!?" A cheery voice piped in as I blonde woman in a bright pink dress walked into our sights. Greta, with the two young boys sitting on her feet as she walked, made her way with the rest of the family to the big clump. Lawrence and another couple, who I can only assume is the 'ten-year' couple, stayed behind. He seemed to be telling them an interesting story about the whole issue at the airport or the one about the guy who was addicted to brake fluid.

The guy said it was okay because he would know when to stop.

"Jane, watch yourself!" Maurice scolded her as well. As the woman, Jane, pouted playfully, she stepped closer.

"I just wanna know if that's an accent, mama." She teased and turned to face me.

"You're not gonna hug me too, are you?" I joked, with a patient smile on my face. She giggled.

"Of course! Any friend," She wiggled her drawn-in eyebrows at this point, "of Greta's is a friend of mine!" And again, I went through the same dignity-draining hugs I was forced into the entire day. And it was one o'clock at night. You would figure this bunch would be beyond tired. After a few seconds, the hug drew too long and I wanted to shout into the airport, 'I do not consent!' but figured it would be inappropriate. "We were besties in High School, weren't we?" She called out to Greta, who was wrestling a child over her head.

"You were four grades younger than me, Jane!" She cried back, never letting go of the child. "Hey Sammie, quit texting your girlfriend and take your bro." She went to hand a teenage boy with bad posture and his eyes glued to a phone screen, the boy she was carelessly holding by a single foot but he waved her off. He had what I could only assume a typical American boy's fitting on, with a brimless hat on his brown, semi-curly hair and, a 'Nirvana' graphic tee and black skinny jeans with zippers stitched into them.

"It's Fred's turn to take Cameron. I'm busy." His surprisingly low voice bellowed, never looking up as his fingers clacked away on the screen.

"Well, what are you gonna do when you run out of data?" She mocked him in the same deep voice. He looked up from his phone, and put it in his back pocket.

"I'm gonna take Cameron, that's what I'm gonna do." He mocked back. The two exchanged smiles and I knew there was an aunt-nephew sort of relationship the two had. Sammie's, as Greta had called him, outstretched hands took the squirming black haired boy and set him down on the ground.

Greta waltzed her way over towards me, and took hold of my arm. "Samuel's normally better at communication. Whatever he's doing must be important."

"I don't know. He seems too...laid back." I finally chose, after watching him wink at a couple of girls who were watching him.

"Well, I thought you were a snobby rich guy with the whole tux-y thing when I first met you, but obviously that wasn't the case when I started talking to you."

Oh, believe me. I'm much worse. I'm Jim Moriarty.

I gave her a small smile.

"He's rich!?" Jane squealed, from right next to me. I made a mental note to visit my doctor to test for hearing loss.

"I'm really not." I argued.

Hell yeah, I am. Wanna taste, Suzy Q?

Thankfully, Greta didn't oppose what I had said and rolled her eyes at Jane and moved on.

"I really want you to meet Jackson. He's a really cool dude and you've already met everyone else. Then we can go get your bag."

"What about yours?"

"Don't have one, remember? Lawrence just kind of sprung this on us."

"Right. Lead the way." I motioned forward as Greta grinned.

"Hey Jackson, Sarah! There's someone I want you to finally meet." She called out. Lawrence was gone, most likely getting his bags before everyone else, everything was a contest to him. First one to grab bags, first to eat a whole meal, first to get in a vehicle. He always tried for first.

The couple turned their heads and smiled and I finally got a good look at them. The man, Jackson, had blond-brown hair like Lawrence's (only his is fading gray) and had a scruff just along his jawline. Jackson's wasn't as strong as Tony's can opener but it was still very defined.

His girlfriend, Sarah, seemed rather friendly and looked to be of Asian descent.

"Hey, Greta! Thought you'd join us sooner or later." Jackson teased and she laughed lightly.

"Yeah, I've always enjoyed your guys's company more."

He's a handsome man. Maybe this was the cookie-cutter CEO you've always dreamt for Greta. Maybe she'll leave you for him. Maybe it'll be good too, when she's gone. We could finally get back to all the important things, like...business. And firing fucking Kevin.

"Oh, how rude of me. I'm Jackson Martin." He held out his hand to me. I shook it, but with caution of hug. Thankfully, he did not hug me like the rest of the Martin's and he gained my immediate respect.

"I'm James, nice to meet you." I greeted him, an then moved on to his wife. I had never had so much human interaction before and it was hard to get used to, but I reminded myself of who I was doing it for and it was all worth it.

"I know it's a little creepy to say, but I already know. Mom talks about you and Greta all the time. Hate to pry, but is it five months now?" Jackson asked. He really did seem to be, as Greta had put it, 'a cool dude'. His girlfriend was quiet yet polite, still.

"Yes, about. I would be lying if I told you I was surprised to hear." I joked. Jackson laughed, and it was hilarious to hear because it was like listening to Lawrence laugh.

"Yeah! She's always been like that. Always being the talk of the town. My father sure isn't quiet either though. He always has something to say."

I nodded my head in agreement.

"But they've always been real accepting of everyone." He continued. "They never had beef with anyone, kept a clean conscience coming back to America after living in Australia for several years."

"Yes. It was nice that they immediately took me in. Maurice was rooting for Greta and I to date the moment I met her."

"Oh yeah! I remember hearing all about that. She was really frustrated at the fact you hadn't asked he out."

It didn't take long for us to bond and as we all walked to the Baggage Claim to meet Lawrence and get Maurice and I's bags. I didn't even notice until Greta had pointed it out that we had talked the entire time.

"Greta. Where's your bag?" Julie asked. Tony was right behind her with a sleeping kid in his hands and a young boy semi-asleep on his arm. Samuel stood in the back by himself.

"I don't have one. Lawrence procrastinated telling us we were leaving until the last second. He literally told us we were going to be at your house for Thanksgiving and the plane was taking off in the next fifteen minutes. I didn't really have time to travel back home and pack." She turned and gave Lawrence a look.

"So what? I just forgot to tell you. You know, I'm not the only one to blame. Maurice could have said something earlier." He tried to pinpoint to the old woman, talking with Jane who abruptly shot her head up in exasperation.

"It was your job, Lawrence. Your job." She argued. With everyone's bags in hand, we made our way out of the airport.

"Alright. We've got three vehicles." Juliet pointed out as we all walked drowsily in the silence of the almost empty parking lot. "Jackson and Sarah's Prius, Jane's smart car and Tony and I's mini-van. So let's divvy it out." She ordered. Sarah spoke for the first time.

"We can take your kids and you guys take your mom and dad, and then Greta and James." She offered. Samuel was still clacking away at his screen, and the young kids were sleeping on their parents. Jane pouted a little, but turned to Samuel.

"Hey Sams, wanna ride with your Auntie Jane?" She said sweetly. Samuel only shrugged, but his phone in his back pocket, eventually answering with,

"Sure."

"Sounds good to me." Tony nodded his head, the mass he called hair on top shook forward. "Aye, Freddie boy," he gently and teasingly slapped his kid awake who was draped on his mother's arm, "wake up, kid, yo' riding with your brotha's in Uncle Jackie's car."

Jackson rolled his sleepy eyes at his nickname and took Cameron from his sister.

"Tony, don't wake him like that." Juliet scolded. He laughs lightly as the brown-haired boy awoke with a jolt.

"Aye babe, he's tough. He's a Larson after all." He defended his actions.

"Whatever, let's just get home and sleep." Greta interjected and hid her head inside her hood, pulling the strings so it completely covered her face. Although Cameron was in the car, you could hear him bust out laughing. A heart-warmed smile was all I could see of Greta as she walked around in a circle, making the child hysterical. 

"Alright, alright. Let's all get a going. We've got a big day to prepare for tomorrow." Maurice opened the passenger door to the red mini-van and got in. Lawrence opening the backseat door behind her. Greta was still making faces at Cameron through her sweater as I crawled into the very back through Lawrence's door. 

"Greta! We're leaving!" Juliet cried as Tony got in the driver's seat. 

"Okay, coming." She shouted, never putting the sweater back in place as all three cars whirred to life. Jackson and Sarah's car left as soon as Greta was out of the way, Jane following close behind. As she got closer, we tried to tell her to take the sweater off her face but her argument was, 

"It's my new style, you racists." 

Which earned a chuckle from Juliet and Tony but Maurice just rolled her eyes. As she grew closer and closer we tried to tell her to turn left in order to get into the car, but she freaked and went to other way, slamming herself into a huge diesel truck on accident. 

"Woah!" Greta cried, and finally put her sweater in her normal place. "Every time I try and prove a point, I just embarrass myself." She complained and stomped her way into the vehicle, plopping herself next to me in the way back. Juliet sat next to Lawrence as Tony and Maurice sat in the front. Three rows of seats we were compacted into, and we were off. 

Off to a place I never thought in a million years I would be able to go to: My girlfriend's family's house for Thanksgiving. 

AN: So this chapter was a cutesy one, and there are more to come but, know I got a heart-pounding, soul-cutting chapter for ya'll in the making... MWAHAHAHA

If you liked this chapter, 

VOTE

COMMMENT

ADD TO YOUR READING LIST

And I'll see you in the next chapter of... Greta...