Disclaimer: I do not own any of the James and the Giant Peach Characters or story line. That honor and esteem belongs to Rohld Daul. I do own Mr. Lipchitz, Cheryl, Rico and this fanfiction plot line.

Thanks for your patience everyone. Thanks especially to Demonwolf, Panic, shaddowridder221, and Panlynn for your thoughtful reviews. I'm terribly sorry for the long wait. I've got one more chapter planned for this story before it's finished. I'm also working on another story, a one shot featuring earthworm in the works, that I should be finished with by the end of the week.

Chapter 2

Cheryl's boss had lost his mind. Sad, certainly, but true. When she arrived at work yesterday, finding him in fetal position quivering underneath his desk, raving about lost money and a giant lady bug, she could think nothing else. Now raving about money was something she'd come to expect over the years she'd worked at The Trash Rag. She could understand that, or at the very least tolerate it. She didn't get paid to deal with giant imaginary bugs.

"They're not imaginary!" Her boss shouted from behind his desk.

Cheryl winced, almost biting off a chunk of her cheek along with her gum.

"I just said out loud didn't I?" She asked her coworker, Rico.

He nodded sympathetically. He had missed Mr. Lipchitz's psychotic break yesterday, but Cheryl kept him well informed.

Rico swept across the checkered tile, the single rickety fan blowing at his back, lifting the dust and dirt just out of the brooms reach. The dust bunny ballet, Cheryl mused. Rico, apparently gave up sweeping away the flying dust, and shuffled closer to Cheryl.

"He seems okay now," he murmured.

Cheryl slowly walked to the small office in the back of the store. His head was turned to the paperwork at his desk, brow furrowed, pen racing across the small slips of paper. Other than the slight tremble in his hand, he seemed perfectly normal.

She nodded to Rico as she returned to the cash register. "Maybe," she whispered, "if we don't say anything, he'll forget about the whole thing".

Rico shrugged, eyeing a particularly stubborn stain on the floor he'd have to get to after sweeping. "We can only hope." Rico liked his boss well enough. He paid well, was courteous to his employees but didn't take grief from people. Rico could not say that about his previous bosses. It would be a shame to lose him to some form of insanity.

Cheryl sighed softly, and walked back to the register, plopping down on the ancient footstool behind the desk.

The store for a while was silent, aside from the clicking of Cheryl's manicured nails on the desk in tempo with the popping of her bubble gum. If the noise bothered Rico, he didn't show it, humming along with the beat of her nails to some long forgotten song from his childhood.

Once in a while Cheryl would pause to twirl whatever parts of her red hair wasn't sprayed stiff or pinned up. It was, Rico decided, Just the kind of day they needed right now. Slow boring and absolutely normal. Perhaps this routine would help his boss clear his head, and they could forget this ever happened.

The one thing that could be said about fate was that it had a sense of humor.

The bell jangled, soon followed by the shuffle of footsteps. Rico kept his eyes to the floor, gathering the last into the dust pan.

"Welcome to the Trash Rag," Cheryl spoke in monotone, clearly engrossed in the magazine she left on the desk," how may I-".

What Rico heard next he could only describe as the high pitched squeal of a dying cat. Rico yelped and fell back onto the tile. The once full dust pan flipped backwards and emptied onto his shirt and face. Blinking back and coughing dust, Rico stumbled to his feet, rushing to Cheryl's aid, broom raised at the ready. What he saw next made him drop the broom at his feet.

After years of knowing Cheryl, he had developed a scream radar of sorts, which allowed him to determine the difference between new gossip column on her favorite movie star, to someone was about to attack me with a knife. The scream he had just heard had fallen into the latter category. A small red headed boy in a worn suit did not warrant such a scream.

"Uh, hey kid." The poor kid looked understandably spooked at the sight of a shrieking red head and a large, dust covered, mustachioed man who only a few seconds ago was wielding a broom like a weapon. Rico let out what he hoped was a soothing chuckle, wiping at the dust on his face.

"Hullo," the boy mumbled softly, shuffling his shoes.

Rico was a grown man, mature, stable, and full of machismo, and a mustache that he swore made ladies swoon. As such he was secure enough in his masculinity to admit that the little guy was cute enough to make his heart dissolve like sugar in hot tea, and give a soft, genuine smile. Rico was pleased to see the kid smile back, a little less nervous.

"I'm here to get a picture book," he spoke in a soft British accent. Rico gestured to the left, pointing to the small book shelf decorated with pictures of small furry creatures and purple clouds. The boy beamed when he saw it and rushed off to the shelf, shouting out thanks and he ran. Rico smiled at his retreating back, and turned to Cheryl, who was still shocked still.

He frowned. Cheryl was not someone he would ever consider prone to overreacting. She was sardonic, sarcastic, cynical, but never prone to being so…overexcited.

He considered waving a hand in front of her face to get a rise out of her. Instead, he turned following her line of vision towards whatever had brought her such fear.

There was a seven foot grasshopper waiting by the glass door. The grasshopper, dressed in what looked like a fine, but equally worn suit, checked his pocket watch with a hum. The tall creature adjusted his monocle as he turned to face them. He gave a friendly wave with his two left hands. They both waved back, Cheryl still with that dazed expression on her face.

"Hello there," he smiled a toothless smile, eyes warm.

"Hello," said Rico.

"Eh-"Cheryl squeaked.

"Pardon me," the Grasshopper spoke in an accent that could only be described as eloquent, "but your establishment, the…"Trash Rag", was it, came highly recommended by a dear friend of mine. My boy, James, and I, had to visit it for ourselves."

Rico turned back to Cheryl offering her a quizzical look, which she returned with an even more frayed expression than before.

"Your friend…" Rico continued softly, "She wouldn't be the ladybug from a few days back, would she?"

The Grasshopper blinked, surprised, "Why, yes, as a matter of fact, did you two meet?"

Ah. That explained a bit then. "I didn't have the pleasure. But she did meet my boss."

"Ah yes, Mr. Lipschitz. She spoke at length about him. He was quite helpful, especially in identifying those government books. Saved us quite a bit of trouble, as you can imagine."

"I don't doubt it." Rico agreed.

"Is he here?" Grasshopper asked, looking up passed Rico's shoulders as if Mr. Lipschitz would appear behind him.

"I'm afraid not," Rico said quickly. He had a brief and horrifying vision of Lipchitz screaming and throwing coffee mugs at the polite creature that stood before him. "He had to step out of the shop for the day. Personal matters."

The Grasshopper frowned, "Oh dear, I hope it's nothing serious,"

"Nah, I don't think so."

The little boy came running back as fast as his legs could carry him. The previously shy and scared boy was open and chatty with the large insect in the waist coat. He held a large picture book over his head for the Grasshopper to see.

"Mr. Grasshopper!" he cried, hopping from foot to foot. "I found one, and it's perfect!"

The Grasshopper eyed the books colorful cover as critically as he would a Da Vinci painting. Then he smiled warmly.

"Well done, James. This looks like a fine story indeed. Now let's go to the register to pay for it."

He turned to the register, and for the first time, saw Cheryl's fear frozen face. He stared at her still terror filled face, his own smile quickly falling away. The little boy, who was too short to see what was happening, just hummed quietly to himself.

"I say, are you quite alright?" The grasshopper asked.

All Cheryl could manage was a high pitched squeak before Rico stepped in.

"She's been feeling a bit out of it, today," Rico explained, gently pushing Cheryl away from the register. "I'll ring you up. Cheryl, why don't you get some tea from the break room, alright?"

Cheryl gave a shaky nod, staggering to the back of the store.

The Grasshopper hummed. "That seems to be happening a lot lately."

I can imagine, Rico thought. "Maybe there's a bug going around or something"

"Indeed," said the grasshopper, still unconvinced. "Just the picture book please,"

"No problem," said Rico. While he rarely ran the register himself(in normal circumstances Cheryl was the more personable of the two) he ran up the book with no hassle, passing the bag to the Grasshopper, who in turn, passed it to the excited child insisting on carrying it himself.

"Thanks for coming," Rico called out as they walked to the door. "Come back any time.;

"We will," said the boy. "This place is nice. Next time, Miss Spider should come with us. She loves books!"

As the door closed Rico watched the duo walk down the sidewalk and turn the corner. He walked to the entrance, placed the "back in five" sign on the front of the door, and rushed back to find Cheryl.

She was sitting in the break room, nursing a cup of tea in her shaking hands.

"What the he-"

"Language," he admonished.

"You saw that, right?" she pointed eratically in the direction of the door. "The boss's madness isn't spreading is it? Please tell me you saw that."

"I saw it. He was real. You're not crazy."

"There was a giant grasshopper in the shop." She spoke softly, staring at the tea cradled in her hands.

"Yup," said Rico.

She blinked, and let out a faint hysterical giggle. "He wore a monocle and bought a book,"

"So he did,"

"A gentlemen grasshopper. She blinked, and turned to Rico in disbelief. "How are you not scared?!"

He shrugged. Honestly, he'd seen stranger things back in Guatemala. In an odd way it was a bit of a relief to see a bit of magic in New York. It made that eternal ache for home vanish for a while. Besides, the grasshopper didn't try to eat anyone, which was a major plus in Rico's book.

Cheryl turned to Rico, realization dawning in her eyes. "The boss wasn't crazy, was he?"

"No, doesn't look like it," he said.

"…We owe him a big apology don't we?"

"Very big,"

"We should probably explain things to him then? I mean, if they're coming back right?" She turned to him frowning, almost afraid, "they're coming back for certain, aren't they?"

"Mm hmm"

"Right, of course they are." She looked down at her cup, thoughtfully, the trembling in her hands dying down. "Let's wait until tomorrow for the explanation, okay? Oh, don't give me that," she snapped when Rico gave a disapproving hum "I'm gonna tell him, alright? Just give me time to let this sink in first."

Rico stared at her, at the small tremble in her shoulders and the almost wounded look in her eyes.

"…Fine"

She sighed. "Thanks sugar." He was rewarded with the first real smile he'd seen on her today, and he gladly returned it. True to Cheryl's from, it didn't last long. Wait, who's up at the register if you're here?"

He gave an apologetic shrug and a halfhearted chuckle.

"Oh seriously?!" Any fear she had left in her washed off in a shower of irritation. "Rico, we can't leave the store like that. Come on, before we lose more customers," She set her tea aside, marching purposefully to the desk, Rico trailing behind her.

He couldn't help but smile. She gave their boss plenty of grief about money and work ethics, but she was almost as bad as him. As Cheryl lost herself to work Rico began his search for the broom and dustpan. For a while, all was quiet except for the clicking of the register and Rico shuffling around the floor for the cleaning supplies.

Rico had finally gotten the dustpan from underneath the bookshelf, and began to look for the broom.

"Well, Cheryl said. "Now that I think about it, he wasn't so bad."

"Yeah?" Rico said, pleased.

"Yeah," Cheryl said, finally back to some semblance of calm. "He seemed nice enough. He didn't break anything, eat anyone, he was downright gentlemanly."

"He sure was," Rico smiled broom in hand and the peace of the bookstore restored. He swept once more.

"And it could have been worse, I mean, it's not like he was one of those icky spiders or anything,"

People in this town were awfully jumpy, Mr. Grasshopper thought, frowning. A bit too jumpy really. Many of the people he had met, at least on this side of town, seemed to flinch every time Grasshopper looked at them. Perhaps this neighborhood wasn't as safe as he had heard. Or, he thought, somewhat bitterly, as accepting as those in the arthropod family. He was becoming more and more worried about his prospects in this city. Their warm welcome aside, if people couldn't accept him for what he was, he couldn't imagine how they were going to accept the fact that he and the rest of his small family were going to raise a human boy together. He looked down at James, walking along next to him cheerfully. Maybe he should have left James with the others, where it was safer. He looked up to the street, seeing the sign for their hotel in the distance, and the tension in his shoulders dropped.

"James, hold onto my hand while we're walking," Grasshopper said, "I don't want you getting lost in the crowd."

"Mr. Grasshopper?" Can we go on more walks in the city like this soon?"

"Maybe a bit later, James. Right now, I think it's high time we had a talk with everyone else"

"Oh," James said. "Could I show them my book first?"

Grasshopper smiled, "Certainly, I'm sure they'll love to see it.