Disclaimer: I do not own Eragon or Murtagh (Who's names have been changed to Edward and Garret respectively) But I do own Amethyst Cyre and my friend owns Mea Rivers.

Flamers will not be tolerated.

Deep, deep in the heart of Montana, a woman stands at her door with a set of luggage to her right and her purse to her left. The woman sighs, flicking blond hair over her shoulder. God, she hated this. The woman's dark eyes glared at the door to her home, before she slammed it shut and locking it tight.

"Europe here I come." The woman muttered to herself, grabbing her bags. Now she only had to drive to the airport, get all her things on the same flight and take off for New York. From there, England. Already, she could sense the headache coming on.

Why did her therapist suggest a vacation again?

The woman glares at the car, shoving all her things in. She snaps the door shut with her foot. Oh yeah, the anti-social passive-aggressive part. I guess that's a good reason.

Meanwhile, in the slums of New York, a brunette woman lugs her smelly suitcase down from her bed, smiling wide. She had been waiting for this trip for a long time. A LONG time. Every day after her "job" she would mark off a day on her calendar. Then, at her night job, all she could think about was going over to another country, seeing the world, seeing the men too. Of course, she had her fill of men over in America, she didn't think they'd be any different anywhere else. She could be wrong though.

The brunette glanced at her phone as it rang, and picked it up. "Hello? Yes this is Ami-Bear… Uh-huh… WHAT? Tyrone are you serious? I HAVE TO PACK TONIGHT! I told you I can-… Oh fine." She ended the call in a huff and almost threw her phone at the wall. Ugh… Gotta go in for a couple hours. Amithyst Cyre stripped off her clothes and got on her "work clothes" before walking out the door. More money, she thought walking down the steel steps to the street below. More money.

Back with the our Montana woman, said woman is driving a little bit too unfocused from the road, letting her mind sink into a happy silence as orchestra music fills her Mercedes-Benz. She glances down at her phone in the cup holder, biting the inside of her lip. It was a smart phone. Good? Yes and no. Yes, everything she could need was on that phone. Unlock the car when she lost her keys, maps when she did get lost, books, e-mail, etc. No, her work was on that phone. Every. Last. Page. Being the only good lawyer in Montana had its advantages and disadvantages.

The music came to a crescendo, making the woman smile. This was her favorite part. She pulls into the airport, the hard to come by smile, easily dripping off her face when her eyes watch a near-by plane take off. God, she hated flying.

The woman pulls up to the sliding glass doors, snatching her purse and phone as the valet opens her door.

"Miss Mea Rivers, on behalf of America Airlines I would like to personally welcome you to our airport." The woman, Mea Rivers, stares at the man blankly.

"Well, my bags aren't going to get themselves out, are they?"

Around 6 hours later, Ami sat at the airport waiting for her friend to get off the goddamn plane. She had been sitting her for about two of those hours. The other four hours were spent at her job. She had gotten decent money for it too. About six hundred dollars (after Tyrone took his share of course). She was the "star employee" at her work. Pfft. Star was about right. "The Amithyst Star" was her "username" at her work. Such a fitting name. She looked down at her outfit, having not changed out of it since she expected the plane a few hours ago. Sadly being poor did not give her the option of looking up the flights on the internet. She kinda had to go by word of mouth.

Ami smoothed down her mini skirt and popped her bubblegum she had in her mouth. It was gonna be a lonnnnng ass wait wasn't it? She looked down at her watch. Yep.

Mea nearly ran down the platform onto real ground. God, she hated flying! She tucked loose strands of hair behind her ear, her hands shaking badly. Calm down! You're fine, there's no point in being upset now. She told herself, shaking her head.

Mea straightened up, looking around the terminal for her friend. She felt a little out of place, with so few people here. Plus the people here were most likely from a delayed flight or on last minutes notice. Mea only saw about two, business suits, the rest being what-ever-I-threw-on attire. Mea looked down suddenly self-conscience. Okay, so maybe she didn't have to wear heels, slacks, and a teal dress shirt, but the sad thing is, she didn't have anything remotely… "normal." She even had to have help in the outdoors section at the mall because she had no idea what to buy for clothes! If that wasn't embarrassing…

Ami looked up and spotted her friend. Like a black spot on a white background, there she was. The girl smiled and stood up in her hooker heels waving wildly. Her best friend from forever was finally here. ON TO EUROPE! "MEA! MEA OVER HERRRRE!" She yelled, cupping her hands in front of her mouth. People were staring, but who gives a rats ass? YELL LOUDER!

Mea looked up from her phone the second her name was being yelled across the quiet terminal. Oh god, could this get any worse? Oh wait! It could! Now, her best friend, was waving madly and cupping her hands around her mouth. Mea sighed, raising one hand in recognition. She walked a little faster, giving Ami a heated glare before getting into arms reach. "Ami! For heaven's sake what is wrong with you?"

Ami kept her grin and popped a hip out, giving a small twirl and an "OWWW!" exclamation (similar to Michael Jackson) and hugged Mea. "OH MY GOD I AM SO HAPPY TO SEE YOU!" She squealed.

Oh god, space, space, space! Mea awkwardly hugged her back, quickly backing up to smooth out her shirt. Mea cleared her throat. "Yes, I'm glad to see you as well Ami." Mea eyed her clothes, crossing her arms with a disapproving look. "Ami, you're not still working for that atrocious man, are you?"

"Oh you mean Tyrone?" Ami asked as she placed her hand on her hip. "Girl, he's been treatin' me good!" She pulled put her clutch and showed her the nights earnings, grinning happily. "Six hundred smackers!"

Mea forced a smile on her lips, thinking on the inside; "Oh honey, that only takes me two hours…and that's the minimal rate." Mea nods, motion towards a different gate. "That's wonderful, but you should really be thinking about long term here. We can talk about that later, we're going to miss our flight."

Flight 184 landing in London

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