Hey! Just want to preface this of by saying, I'm sorry. Again. Now that my schooling is over for the summer, and the golf season is over, I can get so many more updates in, so be prepared!

I also want to announce that I have, in fact, started an Instagram page (I'm still thinking of starting a Facebook and Twitter...maybe) so I can give you all tidbits of new stories and any emergencies that may prevent further updating. You can follow me on Instagram @ barbarawrites. Hope to meet some of you all, and thank you so much for not giving up on me. 

Happy Reading!

James

"CHRISTMA~S!"

The powerful voice woke me up, making me jump in the covers of the spare room. Once my heartbeat slowed down, I heard the sound of loud music from the downstairs and the unmistakable singing of my very own Greta Levine.

"Christma~s!" She shouted again. Wiping the sleep from my eyes, I got up and followed the noise down the stairs, through the library and into the living room where Greta was reading and simultaneously watching TV, singing along to Mariah Carey's Christmas that was playing on a commercial. When I looked down at what she was wearing, I raised an eyebrow.

"Greta?" I asked. Her singing ceased and she adjusted her circle rimmed reading glasses on her nose.

"Yeah?"

"Why are you wearing giraffe...pajamas?"

"You like them? I bought them a while ago." She placed the book she was reading on the coffee table in front of her and picked at the hems of her pajamas as if to show them off. I struggled to come up with an answer to her question.

"They are very...you." I tried. She raised an eyebrow.

"Normal girls would be offended by that statement, but because I'm awesome, I take that as a compliment." She gave me a cheeky smile, her chin held high. I should have known Greta would take everything as a good thing.

"That's what I was hinting towards." I covered up. "What are you watching?"

"Oh, just last year's Christmas parade. Did I wake you?" She dismissed my earlier topic. Plopping down next to her, I shook my head. I didn't want her to feel bad for actually doing so.

"No, no." I lied.

"Darn. I tried so hard, too." She smirked and laughed at my shocked expression.

"Rude." I mumbled as she continued to bust a gut. "So, what's the plan for today?"

"Well," Greta got up from the couch, "just follow me to the basement and you'll see."

"This isn't the part when you tie me up and torture me, is it?"

"No!" She furrowed her eyebrows together, and waited a moment before saying, "that comes afterwards."

"Oh, gotcha." I nodded.

"So that's agreement?"

"I'd let you torture me forever without complaint if it just meant I got to see you till the ends of my days." The corner of my lip drew up in a closed-mouth smile. Greta laughed in reply.

"Shut up."

"For you, I'd stay silent for an eternity if it only made you happy."

Greta raised an eyebrow.

"You're really trying to get laid, aren't you?"

"It's that obvious?"

Greta snickered a bit, before continuing to lead me downstairs. "Oh, James, you'll be the death of me."

"Glad we both feel the same way." I gave her a friendly smirk as I took in the whole landscape of her basement. Walking down the creaking stairs, I had expected it to look a lot more like a meetup for a cult all strung up with beheaded goats and candles dimly lit. Instead, it was just as home-y feeling as the rest of the house. I watched as Greta bent over into a closet and pulled out two completely stuffed totes. "What is that?" I pointed to them, as she straightened herself out with a florish and blew away strands that were in her face.

"Christmas decorations!" Greta exclaimed, gleefully, with jazz hands.

"Oh, you know Christmas isn't really my thing..." I said, rubbing the back of my neck, sheepishly. Greta just smiled at me.

"It isn't mine either."

"Then why do you have two totes full of decorations specifically for Christmas?"

"Why are they dusty?" She answered my question with a question as she popped open one of the containers and as she did so, a huge cloud of brown dust flew up into the ceiling. Greta lightly coughed, and blew away the dust from her face. "Come on, grab a tote, preferably a clean one, and let's get decorating." She grabbed the ends of the blue plastic box and made her way back upstairs, myself in close trail with a container of my own.

"Why is Christmas not your thing? You seem like the total all-out Christmas-y kind of person." I asked, looking over the container.

"Never had a reason to celebrate for almost three years. It really does something to you. After my parents died, I dropped everything. Celebrations, restaurants and even my schooling." She explained, looking back at me, but still leading the way through her library and into the living room.

"Schooling?"

"Harvard Law. For family-related matters, like divorces, adoptions, things like that."

"Ah, yes, I remember you telling me that." How could I have not? That was the beginning of my earlier suspicion she was after me. As well as the end, but we don't have to make a timeline of how fast James Moriarty can fall in love.

"When did I tell you that?" Greta gave me a look of surprise, and shifted her eyes as if to try and recall that event.

"The night we met." I shrugged my shoulders.

"That was half a year ago!" She widened her eyes when she had seemed to realize what she said. "Oh my God, we met half a year ago!" Greta sat down her box with a huff.

"Time flies when you're having fun." I suggested. She raised an eyebrow.

"Is that what they're calling it, now?"

I threw a pillow at her from the nearest couch in response. She only laughed, and opened up the tote. Streamers, ornaments, and snowmen of all sizes were neatly organized within it and at the sight of it all, Greta slumped and let out a snort.

"My mom put away all this stuff. She was always organized, always had a plan. My dad never cared about being neat and clean, just like me. I haven't opened these totes since the last Christmas we spent together." Greta sighed.

"I'm sorry." I whispered just loud enough for her to hear. Her mood changed quickly when she gave me a warm smile.

"Oh, don't be. Now I get to open this stuff up with you. It's way better than having to do so alone." She pulled out a little shoe box that was full of little buildings and people on snowy stands.

"What is that?" I asked her.

"The very first thing we're setting up. Besides the tree, which we're getting today!"

"Today?"

"Well, yeah, I kind of procrastinated getting everything set up. Christmas is in a week." Greta gave me a guilty look making me chuckle lightly.

"I'm not judging. I don't think I've ever celebrated Christmas."

"Ever?" Greta asked, fixing the glasses that were slipping down her nose.

"Nope. You will be my very first Christmas." I gave her a lop-sided smile and looked back down at the shoe-box full of random miniature buildings.

"Hmph." Greta smiled back at me, and shook herself out of the daze we both seemed to be in. "Alright, let's get this place Christmas-ed up, shall we?" She waltzed out of the room, swaying her hips almost tauntingly. I laughed at her eagerness to set up her house with fake plastic strips colored green and red but nevertheless, I helped.

Greta began to take things off the top of her piano, to make space for her 'village' that was residing in the shoebox I was holding.

"Greta, wait." I stopped her by placing my hand on her arm that was outstretched on a picture frame.

"Hm?" She turned around to face me.

"Since I haven't, you know, had a Christmas, you gotta give me the full experience." I smirked. She suddenly snapped her fingers in my face.

"Yes! I gotta go get some music on!" She shouted and slipped from my grip and into the kitchen where she quickly went on her phone, 'bluetooth'ing it to the small speaker she had. Instantly she gasped as the first note.

"How do you know what song it is when it hasn't even barely begun?"

"This song? It is a Christmas legend." She began to sing along and continued to take down her stuff. "I don't want a lot for Christmas..."

"Is this all the Christmas experience I get?" I teased her, helping her clean her piano. Greta gasped again and rushed off in her giraffe pajamas. I shook my head and laughed to myself. "Okay...I guess I'll take all this down by myself." I muttered and moved my handful of photo frames onto one of her couches in the living room. One particular photo caught my eye that was framed nicely and everything. It just happened to be of a picture Maurice or something must have snagged at our first date during the baseball game when her and Lawrence they crashed. I couldn't help but smile at the two of us, Greta and I, together. We were standing together over looking the field and laughing at our awkwardness of the first time we romantically spent together.

It was a moment I never wanted to forget.

Forget about it.

No. Leave me alone, Jim. There's no place for you here.

"Tada!" Greta suddenly shouted behind me and made me jump. I dropped my hand with the photo frame to my side. I immediately burst out laughing when I saw she was wearing a 'Santa Claus' hat still wearing her giraffe clothing.

"This...is amazing. Thank you for this image, truly."

"You like it? I figured it was just like the cherry on top. Simple and small but totally awesome!"

"Yeah, totally awesome." I let out the last of my laugh.

"I like that photo, too." Greta said, taking me off guard.

"What?" I tried to play it cool.

"The photo frame you're holding? It's my favorite. Sometimes when you leave for England during those periods where you're gone, I find myself kind of...staring at it. Almost like a habit."

"Yeah..." I nodded and brought the frame up to give one last hard look at before setting it back down. Greta was already back at the piano, setting a white fabric on top of it. "What's this?" I asked her.

"A snowy ground, so to say. This is what we're going to place all the things in that shoebox you were supposed to have." She smirked playfully as she watched me frantically look for the box. "James, hon." She stopped me.

"Yeah?" My eyes were stopped by hers. It had been so long since I were lost in them, the last time that happened was about a month ago. In Texas.

"The box is on the kitchen counter." She slightly moved her head in the direction of the counter where, in fact, the box actually was.

"Oh. Yeah." I grabbed it, without taking my eyes off Greta. I so desperately longed for that moment again. That Texas moment. It was the first time I was truly happy. The first time James Moriarty felt alive. Jim was long gone back in England, but James. James was there, in the place he'd only dreamt of. The embrace of another, who actually cared for him. For me.

Almost all the decorations were nicely set up. The only thing left was the tree. Greta and I had set up a nice spot in between her two couches that was empty.

"Ah. And it's only 4:30." Greta sighed, placing her hands on her hips. She was no longer wearing her giraffe pajamas but a regular shirt and jeans. I began to somehow miss them. Her reading glasses were off too. She hardly ever wore them around for anything other than long periods of reading. "We can easily get the tree in an hour and come back before its time."

"Before its time for what?" I asked her, watching her put on the coat I had given her, yet again, half a year ago when we had met, and wrapped a multicolored blanket scarf over it.

"Before its time for the sun to go down. I've only missed a few sunsets in my lifetime and this night tells me this one will be truly special. So I gotta be there for it." She explained, placing a maroon winter cap and matching gloves on her hands and head. I followed her lead in getting ready, placing my coat and gloves on. No need for a hat.

"I see. Well, I'm glad I can be a part of it." I slightly smiled as Greta grabbed the keys to her Monte Carlo, that I would never drive because that would involve having to take classes which would make me have to get my American license and unfortunately, I can't use any legal document I have because they aren't exactly...legal.

The way to the tree farm was longer than I expected. About forty-five minutes of on the road, listening to Greta sing along to music on the radio and curse at drivers.

"Come on! Who did you take your test from? Bambi!?" , was probably one of my favorite insults Greta has ever handed out to anyone. Along with, "that car looks like a potato on wheels" and "Holy mother of **** <enter curse word of choice>there's something called a blinker, ****<another curse word is appropriate>-ing use it."

When we pulled into the farm, it truly was a beautiful sight. The snow on the ground seemed to glisten in the faint sunlight of the winter. Getting out of the car, we met up with a guy on a tractor who would give us a ride out to the pasture on a trailer. There were only a few other people with. A mother, father and one child, a couple teenage boys, who were laughing and slapping each other and another family of five. Just as we pulled out of the driveway of the building, ready to leave for the pasture, a few grungy looking men jumped on as well. Nodding their heads in acknowledgment to us. Something about them triggered something in my brain but I completely ignored it.

"I don't think I've ever been on...this before." I said after a while of looking around at the horizon and patting the wooden trailer that suspiciously shook ever thirty seconds.

"A hay ride?" Greta asked, with wide eyes. "Oh, I loved these growing up. Still do. It's more of a sentimental thing now."

"Is it a reoccurring thing for you, Americans, to put yourself on things that could cause death as call it fun?"

"Yes, yes it is, you wanted the full experience." She shrugged her shoulders playfully.

"Oh, I'm not complaining. I'm just harmlessly wondering."

"Sure." Greta replied, doubtingly, as we rounded a corner to see rows beyond rows of pine trees. Greta's arm suddenly locked around mine in excitement as she practically bounced in her seat. "It's been so long and I just..." 

I laughed at her as the tractor pulling the wooden slab carrying us slowed to a stop, the trailer shaking for the last time as it lurched behind the tractor. 

"Shall we pick a tree?" I asked her, as I stood up to stretch from the seemingly long travel. 

"We shall!" She jumped off the side of the trailer, ignoring the opening everyone was exiting from. Deciding I wasn't going to try my luck with the wobbly wooden edge, I made my way to the actual exit and followed Greta around. The balding, pot-bellied tractor driver fixed his suspenders and got out and gave the two of us a big smile. 

"Am I seeing the Greta Levine?" He gave a belly-aching laugh as Greta smiled back. 

"In the flesh." She joked, giving the man a big hug. 

"Clara, get out of the tractor!" The man shouted behind him. A short red-headed girl hopped out of the side of the tractor. "It's Greta!" 

"Greta? Greta!?" The woman attacked Greta as she spun her around. "It's been, what, three years!?" She exclaimed as the two let go of each other. 

"Yeah!" Greta breathed out. "Oh, Grant, Clara, this is James. James, this is Grant and Clara. They're family friends." She introduced us. I gave the two a friendly smile. Or what I hoped was friendly. Cheerily, I shook hands with Grant as I watched the girl, Clara, exchange playful glances with Greta. 

"Is he...?" Clara trailed her words. Greta nodded her head with a small smile. "That's awesome! This man gets a hug!" 

I suddenly felt a pair of arms wrap around my neck, practically pulling me to the ground because she was so short. I was used to being hugged by Maurice and completely squished by Lawrence so this was nothing. I was used to it, now. Greta laughed at my uncomfortable-ness. 

"You guys looking for a tree?" Grant asked the two of us, once Clara was finished her attempt to behead me with her hug. 

"No, we just came to churn butter." Greta said, sarcastically, and put her hands on her hips. Grant laughed hysterically. 

"Oh, I missed your sarcastic humor, Ms. Levine. Or is it something different...?" He looked at me, then back at Greta, then back at me. Greta giggled slightly. 

"No. It's Levine, still." 

As Greta, Clara and Grant continued to reconcile together, I took the time to look around at the place and weeding through Christmas trees. My eyes caught sight of those two men who jumped onto the trailer last minute, just staring at us, but the moment I looked at them, the two were acting like it never happened. 

"Alright, well, we better get picking out a tree." Greta interrupted my death stare. "Tell Louise I said 'hey'." We bid the two farewell and continued to walk away as our footsteps crunched under the fresh snow. 

As we walked, I began to suggest different trees, but Greta had an answer for each one. 

"What about this tree?" I pointed to a pine tree that I thought was acceptable. 

"It's too tilted." She nodded her head once, and scrunched her nose. 

"How about this one?" Pointing to another tree, I received a shake of the head by Greta. 

"Too tall. It won't fit inside my house." 

I went to complain when Greta smiled at something behind me. I turned around as I heard her take in a sharp breath.

"That's it. That's the one. That's the spot." She lead me to a small tree.

"Are you sure you want this one? It's rather small..." I tilted my head slightly to get a better look at it. 

"This is the spot where my parents and I always got a tree from. We planted a tree here a long time ago, and a new one would sprout out every Christmas and we'd take it again, and again." 

"I like this tree. It's perfect to me, if it's perfect for you." I smiled at her as she looked at the Pine tree from her memories. 

"This one sprouted six months ago." A voice said from behind. We both turned around to see Clara smiling brightly. "Six months ago, it sprouted for the first time in a few years. I thought you should know, since it's your spot Greta. It's yours." The red-headed girl walked away after saying her peace, her hands in her pockets.

Six months ago. Strangely, six months ago, we started dating. 

"Let's leave it." Greta said softly. 

"What?" I turned towards her, surprised at what she had said. "I thought you said this was your spot." 

"It is, but it would be a shame to cut it down before it got to grow as big as the rest of these trees." She sighed and looked up at the sky that began to lightly let snow fall.  "You know, I find it ironic that it sprouted six months ago, don't you?" 

"That's what I was just thinking..." 

We finally picked a suitable tree that we could work with. Grant had came and wrapped up our tree with a rope and tied it to the other trees which all had the same rope connected to the back of the trailer. 

"Oh, shoot." Greta cursed next to me. When I turned to look at her, I saw she had her phone out. 

"What's wrong?" I asked her as we got on the trailer and sat down in the same spot we had before. 

"It's already six, we're not getting back to my place in time to see the sunset there." Greta put her phone away. 

"Well, at least we can still see it from here." I suggested as she smiled at me. 

"Yeah, I guess it would be more fun on a hay ride anyways." Greta admitted and yawned. "God, I never expected myself to get tired this early." She muttered. I chuckled a bit before looking back out at the sun that was turning into a orange-blue mix. I admired Greta's love for the sunset but I personally loved sunrise. 

"You sure we can pull all of these trees as well as the trailer with that tractor?" I had asked Grant before he stepped into his tractor. He laughed at me like he does at everyone. 

"Oh, yes, son. This thing can carry seven trees behind it. That's why we have a seven family limit." He opened the door to the tractor but popped his head back out. "Mr. James, I've been meaning to ask you. Where you from? You definitely don't sound American." 

"London, England." I answered quickly, hoping to get by any talk of my hometown. 

"Beautiful place, ain't it. Sorry to be blunt, it was just bugging me. 

"Oh, no problem, sir." I nodded my head, and gave him a slight smile. He returned to his place at the wheel and I went to go stare at the sunset more when I felt a head on my shoulder. Greta was fast asleep already, huddled next to me in the cold winter air. It wasn't long before I felt myself drift off as well, my head falling on top of hers, the last glimpse of the orange slit of a sun imprinted in my mind. 

When I awoke, everyone was already leaving the trailer. I had no idea the trailer's frightening shake didn't keep me awake just in case we all died. My eyes fluttered awake, realizing Greta was no longer sleeping next to me. In fact, she wasn't even sitting next to me. I wanted to panic, but knowing the reality of the situation, she was most likely just fine. She was probably talking with Clara and Grant or something. But when there was no sight of Clara or Grant, my suspicions rose. 

"Grant!" I shouted as I saw the fat man hobbling away. Grant turned back to face me, looking like a deer in headlights. I took a sigh of relief. 

"Yes, son?" He came hobbling back my way. I moved to the other edge of the trailer where I could meet up with him. 

"Is Greta there with you and Clara?" I asked him, trying to keep myself calm and collective. 

"No. She's not with us, son." 

"Did she leave early?" I began to loose my cool. I shouldn't have let my guard down. 

"I-I don't know, son. Why don't you check your car? Maybe she's there?" He tried to help. I nodded my head and jumped off the side of the trailer as Greta had before. I changed my pace from a walk to a jog to a sprint. Looking into the side of her car was hard when it was practically pitch black except for the bright moon. My eyes adjusted as I searched in every seat. 

"Greta!" I shouted out into the night. Several of the families stared at me, but I didn't care. I needed to know where Greta was. "Greta!" I shouted again. As I looked around, everything in my sight began to swirl. I lost my focus, but when I regained it, I caught sight of a van swerving around the parking lot at top speed. Gunshots ran out through the parking lot as I ducked behind the back of the Monte Carlo, shielding my head with my arms. 

I knew who it was. I was beyond angry and beyond scared. 

"Greta!" I shouted once more before getting into her Monte Carlo with no knowledge of how to drive it. Turning the keys in the ignition, I felt my chest rise up in my throat. I needed to catch that van before anyone else could call the police. I would kill everyone in that van that took my Greta Levine. 

Switching to the first gear, I pounded on the gas pedal, the car roaring to life with a huge jumpstart. I hadn't drove myself anywhere in almost ten years, and driving in the wrong seat doesn't make it any easier, especially at night. I changed my shift again into third gear, completely skipping two and chased after them. I didn't dare turn my headlights on bright. I had to stop the van without actually hurting the van in case I hurt Greta, who was most likely thrown in the back seat. I reared on them, the gravel kicking up into the air, making chips in the windshield. 

I was right on the van as I ran into their back bumper. The van drove out of control for only a moment before getting on the right path. Turning onto an empty, two lane, tar road, I was able to drive the Carlo faster as I shifted to fourth gear, gaining right onto their side. A man in the passenger seat brought out his pistol and shot into my passenger window, shattering it but just barely missing me. Glass fell on my lap and landed in my hair as I swerved out of the way before they could pelt Greta's Carlo with more bullets. 

Driving with one hand, I searched my coat pocket for my spare pistol that I could use against them. To fight fire with fire. Instead I found my cellphone. Deciding against calling my men, I called Maurice first. 

My phone rang, leaving me anxious. 

"Pick up, Maurice. Pick up the damn phone." I cursed as I held it to my ear. The ring extended then quit. "Fuck!" I shouted, wanting to throw my phone at the van but decided against it, keeping my Jim-rage inside. He always had a habit of reacting unreasonably and in angry spasms. I redialed Maurice, who picked it up on the fourth ring. 

"Hello?" Her un-amused voice answered. "If this is the same damn boy that tried to get me to catch my fridge, you have my middle finger to stick up your ass, you mother-" 

"Maurice?! It's me, James!" I practically screamed into the speaker. 

"Well, hello there, Mr. Moriarty! How are you?" 

"Maurice, Greta's been taken! I'm following them right now. I have their license plate I can give you but don't call the police yet. They've fired gunshots but I'm trying to track down where they are going by following. I need you to calm me down before I get myself in trouble." I admitted. 

"I'm calling the police, James. This is serious." Her tone of voice told me there was no getting out of this one. I had to think of a plan and quick, and looking at the van license plate gave me just the idea I needed. 

"Alright. I can give you the license number for you, right now. You ready, Maurice?" 

"Yes sir, hold on." I heard the sound of ruffling papers and a pen clicking. "Alright." 

"Okay. FRT," 

"F...R...T," 

"673." I changed the numbers to a random pattern knowing that the police would follow a different car. 

"6...7...3, got it! Be careful, James. Don't be out there all night. Don't do anything stupid." 

"I'll do whatever I have to in order to get Greta home safely. I can't promise it won't be stupid. Bye Maurice." 

"Goodbye, James. I have some phone calls to make." She disconnected the call as I slammed the phone onto the passenger seat. It had been so long since I had been behind the wheel, it was sad it had to be at a time like this. I looked back up to find no trace of the van and myself speeding up on a car going forty miles an hour. I quickly skipped my car all the way to first gear and slammed on my brakes. My car swerved out of my control once again and my back wheels skirted back and forth. Letting go of both the brake and gas pedal, I grabbed a hold of my wheel and jerked it to the right, braking it on the side so that my passenger door was facing the road front ways. 

I screamed and punched the car horn. 

Yeaaaaah! I love this chapter! My heart was like pumping as I was writing this! Anyways, thanks for reading and hopefully you enjoyed this well-deserved chapter. Go follow me on Instagram at barbarawrites to get notifications when I upload new stories and then I can meet some of you as well! 

IF YOU LIKED THIS

VOTE
COMMENT
ADD TO YOUR READING LIST! 

and I'll see you all in the next chapter (which seriously won't take a month to upload)