Greta //(A BBC Sherlock: Moriarty Fanfiction)

Chapter 35: "That car looks like a potato on wheels."

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."