The telegram had been sitting on her desk for a week now. Kizzy had read it exactly three times since it had arrived on Monday. The first time, she had stared at it in disbelief for a while before snorting derisively and shoving it in her top drawer. The second time was that night, and once she'd truly digested the news therein, her heart beat in her throat for the next two full days. On Thursday morning, then, she read it for a final time and let the news settle numbly down her spine.

And now it was Monday again. And that meant James would be arriving from Greece. The last time she'd seen her cousin, she had been eleven and he was seven. The only thing she remembered from his visit was that he'd cut her braids off while she was taking a nap on the porch. Upon waking, Kizzy discovered her hair lying like limp, carrot-red snakes beside her rocking chair. She'd given an enraged scream before seeking him out and chasing him around the fields surrounding her house for several hours. He had gone back home with a black eye and deep scratches down both his cheeks.

And now Kizzy was standing at the train station, glancing at her watch and keeping an eye out for this man she still somewhat resented and knew she wouldn't recognize anyway. She tapped her foot impatiently as her eyes roved through the crowds of people, trying to guess which one of them he would be.

(CLOSED RP)

The entire plane ride to America, James ran his thoughts back to the last time he and Kizzy had seen each other. The entire time he was thinking about the fight they got into, James unintentionally rubbed his hand across his face where his skin was torn apart by Kizzys' sharp nails. Sighing deeply he sunk into his first class seat, and gripped the arm rest nervously. He was not used to flying in planes, he was more accustomed to trains and hiking. Ever since he was born he had been traveling across the world. After his visit to Kizzy as a child, he had gone back to Greece and started his journey alone. His mother had died on the trip back to Greece, and his father had long since abandoned them.

Landing in the United States, he was more than pleased to set foot on solid ground again. Quickly getting directions to the nearest train station, James fumbled with his wallet as he pulled out the cash to pay the fare. As soon as his luggage was stored James sat down in a window seat, and stared out of the window lost in his own thoughts. Would Kizzy still hate him? It had been years since they'd talked... He was now thirty two years old... Surely she could not hold a grudge for twenty five years. Then again women were insane, so who knows.

Feeling the train slowing down at the station, James checked himself in the mirror. He was wearing his normal attire: a loose fitting plain tee shirt, and cutoff jeans. His hair was short and sticking up all over the place, and his face had hints of a five o' clock shadow. He smelled strongly of peppermint and tobacco, and had a general air about himself of quite confidence and internal peace.

Stepping off of the train, his emotions aesthetically were calm and not-caring, however inside his heart was pounding out two hundred beats per minute and his stomach was scrunched up in tight knots. He had faced wild grizzlies and spat in the face of death many times, yet a simple meeting with his cousin Kizzy scared the ever living shit out of him.

Kizzy squinted at the faces of the people coming off the train. None of them looked very much like the little seven-year-old she remembered...but then who wouldn't have changed in twenty-five years? Suddenly, an unkempt man in some of the strangest garb she'd ever seen stepped off the train. She blinked several times and gulped, praying to God that this man would just keep walking and disappear and would certainly not be...he was walking toward her. She raised an eyebrow to her bodyguard, Ian, who was holding a sign that read simply "Kirk". The stoic man simply blinked straight ahead, watching the oncoming man. Kizzy gave a small, helpless sigh and forced a smile for her cousin while holding out her hand.

"James? James Kirk? It's...Kezia. Kizzy."

James couldn't help but let a smile out at the sign simply reading "Kirk." Extending his hand to shake Kizzys, James paused momentarily to see if this was some trick. Maybe she was going to pull on his hand hard enough to make him fall, or squeeze his knuckles hard enough to pop them out. Deciding that she wasn't too evil James shook her hand and smiled warmly.

"Kizzy! Always formal, give your favorite cousin a hug." James pulled Kizzy into a hug and winked to her bodyguard. The bodyguard simply put a hand on his shoulder and pulled him away from her, not saying a word. Maybe he was a mute! 

Following Kizzy to her car James checked underneath the car to make sure there wasn't a bomb strapped to it. He'd seen it all before, and would not take any chances now that he was back in America. It was unlikely that anyone from America remembered him since the last time he was there, but he knew there was a whole plethora of people who would be lining up to kill him. He hadn't exactly made the best friends when he was seven... but that's another story.

As Ian (thankfully) pulled James away from her, Kizzy gave her cousin a slightly frosty smile.

Oh, I forgot to introduce my chauffeur-butler to you--this is Ian. He doesn't talk much.

She smiled to her bodyguard before nodding her head to the side.

Shall we away to my house, then?

Without waiting for a reply, she turned on her heel and hurried away, forcing James to jog slightly behind her. Ian was easily able to keep up with her, his long legs keeping up with her stride. Once they arrived at her car, James suddenly stooped down simultaneously with Ian as he checked surreptitiously for carbombs. She raised an eyebrow at her cousin as Ian gave a nod and opened the door for the two. Kizzy slipped in and looked over to James as he climbed in beside her.

So...what is it you do for a living, again, James?

"I travel for a living. I deal with people that most normal citizens would see as... shady. I hit it big in the stock market when I was young and ever since then I've been a roaming soul. I found internal peace long ago after me mum died."

Buckling up James bit his lower lip, not knowing what to say. Watching the scenery pass him James kept his mind busy by figuring out all of his old contacts current ages. Surely not all of them were alive, especially not the ones who wanted him dead. Vinnie Muzzerio must be at least in his eighties by now if he was still living for Christs sake! 

"What is it that you do, exactly? And what do you have planned for supper tonight if you don't mind me asking." Realizing Kizzy was smirking at his outfit, James added "What, do you have a problem with my appearance?"

At James' first question, Kizzy's eyelids flickered slightly. She glanced out the window, watching the Chicago scenery moving silently by for a moment before she answered.

I suppose I can be honest with you since you're so upfront. I'm one of those shady people you deal with. Just...a higher class of shady person.

She flicked her eyes over to him and gave him a short smile.

I've told the chef to cook something kosher. I wasn't sure if you bothered eating right, so I figured we'd be better safe than sorry.

Looking her cousin up and down, she gave an inward sigh that twisted her mouth up into a smirk of bemusement. He really did look...so very improper. He probably hadn't eaten kosher since he'd left her father's horse farm twenty five years before. Once James noticed her smile and asked her about it, she shrugged cooly and looked out the window again.

It's just that you might as well be naked with just an undershirt and those...

Kizzy glanced at the cutoffs with fleeting disdain.

those marred waist overalls you have on.

I might as well be naked? I don't know what you mean. I wear what I want, and this happens to be comfortable, if not fashionable. It is light and easy to maintain hiking mountains, or crossing deep rivers. It also happens to make people look my way once, and never look again. They don't like to be caught staring, which helps me pull off some... deeds.

James heard his stomach rumble, and blushed accordingly. It had been awhile since he'd had a home cooked meal. It was mainly whatever he could find in the wilderness, or what he could steal from the store. He was a rich being but didn't like to spend money on things he could get for free. It would be nice staying with Kizzy. As long as she didn't still hold that grudge against him.

Hmmph.

Kizzy leaned her head back against the seat cushion. Several moments passed in silence as Kizzy let her mind wander to other things. Finally, she looked back over to James and gave him a taut smile.

So, you said in your telegram that you'd be heading out to Los Angeles in...an unspecified amount of time, now that I think about it. When do you plan on setting out?

I don't know to be honest. I was hoping to find some old contacts that I made as a child here, and get some business going with a few people. Then I also of course wanted to get the dirt on you, see how far you've come. I plan on adventuring far and wide across the United States. I've trekked across most of Europe in my many years, now the United States has the pleasure.

James peeked over the drivers shoulder to see what speed he was going, and smiled as the driver was doing just over the speed limit. He believed that if you were going to get a ticket for something, it might as well be for something big and not a minor thing like a speeding ticket and or not being belted in. Tilting his neck until it cracked he felt his pocket to make sure his wallet, black book, and diary were still there. 

So you mentioned you were one of these shady people I worked with? I highly doubt this, please explain what you meant by it. I'm hoping dearly that it doesn't mean what i think it does. Your parents would not approve if it is indeed the path I fear.

Kizzy's heart sunk as James continued to leave his length of stay indefinite. Great, a mooching relative. That's all I need. She noticed him looking over Ian's shoulder and raised an eyebrow over a small smile.

Getting used to American cars, James? Every time I go to Europe, it always takes me a while to get used to everything being on the other side.

She laughs lightly before tilting her head at James' question. Before responding, she gives a brief sigh and flicks open a silver cigarette case. She pulls out a cigarette but neither lights it nor closes the case.

Well...as much as I love family, I can't go into too much detail. Let's just say that I help a very powerful man in Chicago run a number of his less reputable businesses. My parents have no idea--and Grandmother Tzipporah died before I started any of it...heh, her death kind of let me do it, to be honest.