LONG CHAPTER, KIDDIES.

Love Lolly and Hayley.

- 8 -

To say the least, when Paul had driven me home, I was pretty shaken. Well, you know, freaked. Weirded out. Shocked. Annoyed. Possibly stoned.

. . . Maybe Paul had spiked my szechwan.

Whatever. Andy grilled me about what I'd eaten for five minutes, and then let me go upstairs. There, I had a VERY COLD shower, for um . . . well, shut up, it's none of your business.

After dropping Suze off at home, I drove back with a certain bitterness. Why did Jose have to ruin our moment? AT THE WORST POSSIBLE TIME.

I was just about to get under her –

Ugh.

It was pretty late when I got back home. I went in my bathroom and took a nice, hot shower. Nice and steamy . . . just like the undeniable passion I held for Suze. And the one she had for me . . . if she'd admit it.

Once I got out of the shower, I wrapped a towel around my waist and was about to head for my bedroom, when I noticed something broken on the bathroom floor.

Hmm. That's odd.

After my shower, I quickly changed into my pajamas. Hoping that Jesse might have been there at the same time as not, I opened the bathroom door.

. . . No show.

With a half disappointed sigh, I crawled into my bed, determined to put all thoughts at the back of my mind. God knew it made my cheeks flush just to THINK about how my body had reacted when he'd been kissing me.

. . . Don't ask.

I picked up the broken pieces and figured out that it was only my ceramic toothbrush holder. That must have been the big crash I heard before Suze and I had our little escapade.

I stared at the sharp little pieces for a lingering moment, feeling a little sorry for the holder.

Isn't that how it always is, little buddy? You finally get close, so close to her, and then she smashes you to pieces?

I put all the pieces back on the counter for Jose to clean up later. I was still angry at him for spoiling my big moment.

Can you BLAME me?

All the anger I directed at Jose was making me tired. I mean, anger takes so much out of a person. Unless I'm mad at DeStupido . . . my anger was like fuel for the fire with this guy.

What was bothering me was, where the hell was Jesse? I mean, okay, I knew that he'd dropped by last night, because my window was shut in the morning. So whatever. I dunno.

With a sigh, I turned over, and fell asleep, thinking about Paul and McChicken Nuggets.

I think I officially have a problem.

Taking all my frustrations with me, I barged back into my room and slipped on some pajama pants and went to bed, all the while my head buzzing with thoughts of what happened that evening. Every movement, every breathy word she said, every touch was burnt into my brain. The whole scenario replayed in my mind over and over again. And even as I was sleeping, my imagination took over and ventured into what might've happened, had Jose just kept to himself like he was supposed to.

- 8 -

The day had sucked. Seriously. All I had to look forward to that afternoon was a STUPID shifting lesson. And, after what had happened that night before, I wasn't too keen on going back to Paul's lair - I mean, house. If you know what I mean? God knew, he'd installed a torture dungeon in preparation this time.

The day was seemingly endless. I had looked forward to to shifting lessons all night and all day long. But judging by Suze's strange behavior, I doubted if she'd ever speak to me again, much less even look at me. Especially after what had happened . . .

Lunch. Oh, fun.

I was sitting at the table with Kelly and her mindless companions, enjoying an utterly ENGROSSING conversation about the difference between store-brand facial cleanser and Neutrogena.

Oh, how my brain is stimulated. NOT.

CeeCee was going on about the Monsignor again, and how he was trying to get back uniform. Adam was building 'Spud' armies with fries and toothpicks, and I was boredly trying to think of all possible ways of getting out of my shifting lesson.

'Hey,' I asked Adam, 'You ever chucked a sickie?'

He looked outraged. 'You had to ASK, Miss Simon? You are looking at the EXPERT on them.'

I raised my eyebrows. 'Good. I need some pointers.'

CeeCee stopped on her righteous speech about how the Mission was soon going to become an oppressive dictatorship, or something. 'What are you trying to avoid? You already had your History test this morning,' she said accusingly.

'Not so much what,' I said, 'As who.'

'Oh,' Adam grinned, 'Sir Stalk-A-Lot on your case again?'

'You have no idea,' I murmured.

'Well . . . Adam drawled, 'You start by going to the toilets, and putting your forehead under the hand dryer, to fake a fever - '

So after listening to him intently, in five minutes I was trying to sickify myself. With now a freakishly hot forehead, I began running to the nurse's office, feigning a grimace -

Anything had to be better than being trapped by the school's future McDonald's patty flippers. I saw Suze get up earlier, and decided maybe I ought to see what she was up to. She disappeared in the bathroom, so I waited at a quiet distance. After a while, she emerged from the bathroom, and ran in the opposite direction. She didn't see me, but I had my ways of making my presence known.

I marched up to her and placed a hand on her shoulder. She instantly froze under my touch.

I spun around, and went very cold. Totally defeating the purpose of the hand-dryer-on-forehead thing. THANKS A BUNCH, PAUL. FOIL MY PLANS????

'Um,' I said, 'Actually, don't say anything. Really don't. I'm not feeling well. Really. Feel my forehead if you don't believe me. It's really hot,' I spluttered randomly, choking on stupidity and lustful memories.

I needn't have worried about going cold. Because suddenly, my body felt very hot. And not in a good way.

Funny. She looked fine this morning. Especially in those tight-fitting pants she was wearing. And she certainly wasn't sick last night.

But I humored her. I lifted the back of my hand to her forehead, which was moist with a glow of perspiration.

She used the hand dryer, I'll bet. That's the oldest trick in the book.

I slid the back of my hand down the side of her face and rested it on her cheek.

Um, okay, that was not my forehead.

'Paul - ' I began, but broke off. THIS was what I didn't want. THIS was all I could expect from a shifter lesson. So I had to get out of there.

Without another word, I jerked away, and ran to the nurse's office, now not needing to pretend I was dizzy. I actually was.

Whatever. With a critical inspection, the assistant novice called up my mum, and said I had a fever. Mum came and picked me up, frowning at me in disapproval.

Well, it wasn't long before I heard of Suze's early trip home. I was sitting in homeroom, as a matter of fact, and I noticed Suze wasn't there. Seeing that I was looking at her desk, Kelly leaned over and whispered in my ear, 'Did you hear what happened to Suze?'

Ugh. This was going to be interesting. 'No,' I replied, 'What happened?'

'She got sent home early today. Debbie heard from Amanda who heard from Scott who was at the nurse's office faking so he could get out of his English test. Scott said she was all sweating and stuff. Like she was dizzy or something. Scott said it probably was drug overdose or something – I mean, he would know and all, but Amanda thinks that she has mono. Her cousin had it and she said that –'

I began laughing to myself. Drug overdose? Mono? Where did these people get this stuff?

Mono. HAH. Dead people don't transmit mono.

'Actually, I saw her before she went to the nurse's,' I informed Kelly with a dumb, fake smile. 'I think she had a case of guilt-itis.'

Kelly stared at me dumbly. 'What's that? It sounds serious.'

'Oh, it is,' I replied with a smirk. Yeah. It's when you enjoy several kisses from the hottest man alive and then feel guilty after because you just two-timed your dead boyfriend.

Man, Jerry Springer is the worst show ever.

This guy wanted to dump his girlfriend because she didn't want to do it with him, using cakes and pies. Ewww.

Which got me thinking . . . me and Jesse . . . I mean, Jesse's dead. So if we were ever in the, erm, situation of . . . erm, STUFF, would that be considered as necrophilia? No seriously, would it?

Makes you wonder, too . . . wouldn't my life be fit to go on Jerry Springer? No, seriously, let's review:

'JERRY! JERRY! JERRY!'

'Hello. Today on Jerry Springer, we have Susannah Simon, Jesse de Silva, Paul Slater, and Maria and Felix Diego.'

'DIE BITCH!' someone would throw a tomato at me and would be removed from the audience.

'There's only two there, Jerry!'

'That's the kicker, my viewers. Three of them are dead! Susannah . . . share your pain.'

'Jerry? . . . I see dead people . . . and now Paul wants me but I want Jesse who was engaged to his cousin back when he was alive in eighteen fifty, and cousins making merry is really GROSS and she killed her cousin to get out of her engagement and her new slave driver hubby tried to kill me - '

'I SHOULD HAVE KILLED YOU!' Maria would cry.

The audience would be perplexed, not being able to hear her and all.

'YOU CAN'T SPELL!' I'd scream back at her.

Then we'd fight dirty,

'Jerry, Jerry, Jerry!'

'Ladies - LADIES!'

'Honestly,' Paul would go, 'No need to fight over me.'

'YOU HAVE FOOT FETISH!' Jesse would shriek.

'What? No, I - ' Paul would blush. Then he'd beat the crap outta Jesse.

'Jerry! Jerry!'

And Diego would smoke pot.

And we'd get sued, because the ghosts could sign the waiver, or something.

Mum would be so, so proud . . .

I was sitting on the couch, with an ice-pack on my head, courtesy of Andy. He gave me a bowl of vanilla ice cream, done up to the nines with sprinkles, chocolate chips, caramel fudge - the works. God, I needed to fake it more often.

Sickness, that is.

Not . . . anything else.

Eww, Simon. Eww.

I changed the channel in disgust as a farmer guy came on, saying he was romantically and sexually involved with his sheep.

I boredly watched the afternoon movie, getting spoonfuls of vanilla goodness.

'Suze,' Mum came in, 'I just remembered. Your tutoring from your friend CeeCee. Does she know you're sick?'

Yeah, mum? Not exactly up with the shifting lessons.

Three became four, four became five, and Suze was nowhere to be seen. I had no idea why she skipped, but I had a feeling she was at home "recovering" from her sickness.

I went into the kitchen to get some water, when I saw Mark, who was separating the medication for Pops.

'Hello, Paul,' Mark greeted in his normal cheery voice. I swear, I don't know when this guy DOESN'T smile. It must be pleasant to live in his world.

I replied with a bored, 'Hey,' and got a bottle of Ozarka from the cool metal fridge.

I took a swig and let the water pour down my throat as a cool refreshing sensation passed through me. Water is good.

Suze is bad. Bad for not showing up to her shifter lessons. Did she think her little sick puppy stunt could fool me? I knew she was trying to get out of it. I'm not a freaking IDIOT.

'I mean,' Mum said, 'Your math scores were disappointing, Suze.'

I rolled my eyes. 'Oh . . . oh mum . . .I feel bad,' I said, slumping a little. She looked worriedly at me, and said, 'Lie down.'

God, I'm good.

Mark is usually a pretty nosy guy, when he wants to be. The only he leaves me alone most of the time is because he's too busy fretting over whether or not my grandfather needs to get his diaper changed or whatever. But when he's not tending to Pops, he's usually all over me with questions, wanting to know every detail. 'Oh,' Mark said. 'Is she passing now, then? Is that why she isn't here?'

I snuggled into my couch, feeling pretty sweet.

I let out a sigh. 'No, Mark. She's failing. Miserably.'

'Then why isn't she -'

'She's sick.'

'Oh.'

Silence. I was finally able to shut Mark up. My mind on the other hand, was still buzzing. And that's when it hit me.

I smiled to myself and said, 'I think I'm going to go pay her a visit. You know, take her math homework so she can work on it in her . . . bed.'

Hopefully that wasn't the only think she'd work on in her bed.

Mark looked proud. 'That's a splendid idea, Paul! That's very thoughtful of you! You know, maybe one day you could care for the sick and homebound just like me . . . '

I flashed Mark a fake smile and said insincerely, 'I'll think about it.'

Mark was pleased. He began humming an annoying little ditty and going back to work.

God FORBID I ever turn out like that guy.

'You know what?' Mum said, 'You should go rest in your bed.'

WARNING. WARNING.

'What?' I asked in panic, 'Oh, no, I'm comfy here. I'm cooling down even. Yup.'

I didn't not want to see Jesse. I didn't know if he was there or not, but he was SURE to ask questions about why I wasn't "over at CeeCee's."

Mum pursed her lips. 'I don't know how I feel about you staying home to watch TV, Suze,' she said in disapproval.

'Oh, that?' I beamed, 'I'm just waiting for the gorgeous face of my mother to grace the screen, informing viewers of the devastating current affairs of Carmel-by-the-sea.'

Mum's annoyed look turned wry. 'You're a kiss ass, Susannah,' she smiled. Then she stopped. 'Now get upstairs.'

. . . Ugh.

I jumped into my car and sped off, riding off into the sunset toward Suze's house.

On my way, I stopped by the gas station to fill up on gas. What, with all the driving I was going to do, I had to fill her up SOMETIME. It'll be useful when I give Suze all those rides home. And from all our future dates.

I can see it now. A nice ride on the Seventeen Mile Drive, stopping at The Lone Cypress . . .

Not so lonely anymore. Hehe.

The particular station I stopped at wasn't up with the times. I mean, they didn't even have pay-at-the-pump for Christ's sake. I actually had to go inside and pay at the register.

The cashier greeted me with a casual nod as I handed him the receipt. He rung it up, but before giving me the total, he asked, 'Would ya like anything else?'

I thought of Suze at that moment for some reason, and figured my case wouldn't be hurt if I brought her a little Get-Well present. I told the cashier to wait a moment, as I grabbed a Jumbo-Sized Snickers Bar and a Pepsi.

Not the type of present I was thinking of, if you know what I mean . . . but it'll have to do.

For now . . .

Once on the top floor, I peaked around the door with suspicious eyes . . .

No Jesse there. Goodie.

I snuck in, hoping that he wouldn't sense my presence, or anything. Then, I slipped into bed and hid under the covers. Like right under.

I know. I'm odd. I just felt like . . . you know, camping.

Go me.

Maybe I was still hiding. From all the mixed up feelings that were surging through my body.

Hiding from me.

Well way to go, Suze. Now you're trapped under the bedspread with the Evil Susie.

You're a goner . . .

Bah.

Finally, I reached Suze's house. Pulling into the driveway, I threw my car in park and turned it off. I sat in the car for a moment, going over my plan of action in my head again.

Wait a minute. What plan of action? Had I even thought about this?

Well, Paul, it's back to the drawing board.

It was dark under my covers. Muahaha.

Okay . . . there were other cars in the driveway, meaning Susie wasn't home alone or anything.

Damn.

That meant I couldn't very well knock on her door or anything without facing her mom, step-dad, or any of her step-brothers. I can only imagine what might happen if Brad were to answer the door.

Okay. Getting in without anyone knowing besides Suze . . . that's all I have to do.

I can do this.

. . . Fuck this. I'm screwed.

I got out of the car, still without a game plan, and took the bag. I held it by my side, gripping the plastic hard in case it would slip through my fingers.

Bored, bored, bored . . . Aww, I want TV. This sucked. I didn't care if it was Jerry Springer with delusional Pokemon fanatics. I needed television.

. . . BORED.

If I remember correctly, hers was the window right there in the front. The really large bay window. Easy escape for when Suze decided to go ghost-busting. But no easy escape from me.

I positioned myself under the window and looked up at it. It loomed overhead, large and inviting. It was beckoning me - I tell you, BECKONING - for me to come in.

But, I figure climbing in was not the strategy to go for, not only for risking broken bones but also broken pride.

Or maybe even Star Wars obsessors who thought that they were romantically involved with Darth Vader.

I mean, ewww?

Scanning the premises, I found a bunch of pine needles, a few pine cones, some bushes, and some small bits of gravel used for landscaping.

And then it hit me. Like a rock. Not meaning to be cliche, I picked up one of the small gravel rocks and bounced it in my hand. Perfect.

I set down the bag and chucked the rock at Suze's window gingerly, aiming so it wouldn't hit the glass.

Click.

. . . click.

. . . Huh?

Click.

I pulled back the covers slowly from over my eyes, squinting, and looking around.

'Jesse?' I called. Damn it. Stay away . . . don't come now. Don't ask questions . . .

She wasn't responding. I wonder if she could hear them, or if she just chose not to. I decided it wouldn't hurt to keep on.

You know what they say: If at first you don't succeed, try using bigger rocks.

It wasn't Jesse.

I kicked back the covers grumpily, and stared around.

The tapping thing was louder.

Then I looked at the window, and saw small rocks being propelled at the window repeatedly.

I marched to said window, now rather pissed off. I threw it open.

'Doc?' I yelled, 'If you're testing that stupid cannon thing you made in fifth, I'm SO gonna - '

. . . Shit.

'P-Paul,' I said. 'What are you doing?

'I'm trying to catch you attention. Or break your window, whichever comes first,' I replied, setting down the last rock I was about to chuck.

I looked around in outrage, to see if anyone was watching. 'What are you DOING, though? I mean, here?!' I hissed, 'Go away!'

My hostility had NOTHING to do with past kisses that had been shared. NOTHING. Or, you know, the fast irrational pace of my heart, or the flush of my skin, or the rigidity of my hands.

NOTHING. STOP LOOKING AT ME LIKE IT HAD SOMETHING TO DO WITH THAT.

BECAUSE . . . IT DIDN'T.

She was looking down at me, shileding her eyes as the sun shone brilliant orange on her features. I, however, was in the cool shade of the house, seemingly cloaked in darkness compared to her.

'I brought you something,' I called up, holding up the bag as an offering.

I stared at him. This was weird. I felt like Juliette, being stalked by a slightly unhinged Romeo. 'Um,' I said, 'I'm good.' I stopped. 'Well, not GOOD, you know, being sick and all, and - '

I ignored her purposefully. 'I thought it might make you feel better, you know, so we can get on with our shifting lesson.'

'No!' I snapped. 'No, I'm - um - I don't have a fever. I have . . . something contagious. Do - David already caught it. Do did Jake. Dropping dead, the lot of them. And what with two funerals to organize, and me being . . sick, I can't do a shifting lesson - '

Crap. All of it, crap.

And there was further proof when I heard calling from outside Suze's bedroom door, the faint sound of some kid's voice, asking, 'Suze . . . who are you talking to?'

Gotta love the timing.

I blanched. I'm going to shave all of that little guy's hair off . . . THANKS A BUNCH, DOCCY.

'Um, he's a ghost,' I shrugged. 'Poor little guy, and his unfinished business - probably, um, a science report or something - '

Wow. I really didn't want to talk to Paul, did I?

'Funny,' I chuckled. 'He seems very alive to me.' I pointed into her bedroom, where her step-brother had entered shyly through the half-open door. He looked guilty for intruding. Not at all dead.

I rounded on him. 'Look dead!' I hissed at him in panic.

He just stared.

. . . Okay, I guess that was kinda lame.

'Just wanted to say . . . Andy said that dinner's in an hour and a half. And whether you wanted chicken or beef on your hamburgers?'

He was still looking at me weirdly. 'Is that Paul Slater?'

I went bright red. 'Um . . . ' I couldn't exactly say no. 'Yeah. Unfortunately.'

'What's he doing here?' Doc asked curiously.

'Nothing,' I said, pushing him out the door, 'Now scoot.'

While Suze was chatting with her little step-brother, I had to make myself useful. I quietly crawled up the wall, using the skill I had developed as an all-powerful shifter: climbing up storm water drains.

'But - ' he protested.

'GO,' I snapped. I felt guilty at being so Kelly-Prescott-after-she-got-dumped-and-hated-the-world at him, but you know, I really didn't want any witnesses to what I was going to say to P -

HEY.

'Hey,' I said casually, emerging from her open bay window. Needless to say, she was surprised to see me crawling from her window.

Well. I have to use my brawn for something. What's the use of having a strong muscular build and not using it?

Her jaw dropped in disbelief.

She wasn't the only one shocked. Her little stepbrother looked up at me with wide eyes.

I could do nothing but gawk like a loser-and-a-half.

Doc started muttering his repeat theory under his breath about how I'd chosen my male specimen with whom I wanted to breed, as to produce the most intelligent and well built offspring, so I slammed the door in his face.

'Get out,' I said in a not-so-nice way.

She pushed the little guy out the door. Fine by me. This gave us an opportunity for some quality private time.

'Now,' I said, 'About those shifting lessons . . . '

'I'm serious,' I glared. I mean . . . Jesse could so easily materialize . . . and see him. Not that he seemed to be overly visit-y at the moment.

Probably having fun eating flees off Spike or something. 'Jesse's um . . . he's - he's coming around in five, and he'll totally pound your ass if he sees you, so for your safety, you'd best - ' Piss off? ' . . . leave.'

'I'll only let my ass be pounded by one person,' I said with a meaningful grin, 'and that person is not Jesse.'

Eww . . . eww, eww, ewwwwww . . .

I wrinkled my nose, and looked away in complete disgust.

'Paul, seriously,' I said, moving towards my desk, 'You can't just barge into people's rooms, uninvited.' Yeah, same for people's mouths. 'You are . . . legally, not allowed to be here, since I didn't invite you to come in, and I specifically asked you to go - '

What's with the sudden law enforcement? Doesn't she know I don't go by the rules? I know them only so I can maze my way around them.

'You never "specifically asked" for me to go before,' I pointed out to her, in reference to our little encounter at the tennis courts.

I knew that would hit her. She can't deny that she was welcoming then. I'd even go as far to say encouraging.

That - that wasn't fair. That was different. He -

This sucked.

'Paul, get out of here,' I said, kind of breathily. I picked up my eraser, you know, prepared to throw it at him, or something.

'No,' I replied simply, taking a deep step closer. I heard her gulp, and I couldn't help but smile to myself.

I raised my hand to pelt my little eraser at him. Slightly pleadingly now, I said again, 'Go.'

She had her eraser in the position to fire at me if I pushed it. Which, of course, I was going to do.

'What are you afraid of?' I asked her, plucking the eraser from her hand gently.

HEY

HE LEFT ME RUBBER-LESS.

. . . I mean, no eraser. Not, you know, rubber as in condom -

ARGH.

What am I AFRAID of?

Duh. Jesse coming RIGHT now and seeing us together. God. It sounded like some torrid affair that we were having.

ME AND PAUL WERE NOT HAVING AN AFFAIR.

He just kind of had a tendency to kiss me and I had a tendency to like it.

No big, right?

I just gawked at him, my hand still up in the air.

'You took my eraser,' I said blankly.

How was I expected to ERASE things without my ERASER?

I looked at the eraser, now in my hand.

'So I have,' I replied. Then, I let it go and it dropped to the ground with a small thud.

He DROPPED me ERASER.

I gave him a scandalized look. 'Get out of my room,' I said again. BECAUSE NOW YOU'VE CROSSED THE LINE, BUDDY.

Nope. No can do.

'I know what it is,' I said, a little off subject. She looked confused for a moment.

'Huh? It's an eraser,' I said. 'Which you just DROPPED.'

'Not that,' I explained. 'I know what you're afraid of.'

With that, I took another bold step forward, closing the gap between her and I almost completely.

The desk was behind me. All I could do was half-sit on the table, trying to keep my distance. Yeah, I moved away from him - about all of two inches. Instantly, by body detected Paul's presence and began reacting accordingly. My forehead heated RIGHT up, and my breathing got short and sharp, and I couldn't look him in the eye, and my heart beat almost echoingly in my chest.

I had her backed up on her desk. I noticed this with much relish, because I knew I had her right where I wanted her. Again.

'Admit it,' I brought my voicedown low and leaned in a bit for added effect, 'You're terrified of me.'

HUH?

'No,' I said very stubbornly.

I looked RIGHT down, to my poor little lone eraser on the floor, forced to survive on its own . . .

I was bright red. I knew that.

I mean, yeah, I kind of was. Terrified of him, I mean. But not ALL of him. Just when he wanted to kiss me. And, you know, make me want to kiss him back. And forget that I had Jesse . . .

My stomach was completely tensed up in anticipation, and my lips were parted, as I breathed through my mouth.

I brought my hand up to her face and lifted her chin so she would stop looking on the ground. My thumb brushed her blushing lips, so soft. I wanted more than anything to feel those lips. On mine, of course.

My eyelids fell down, and I gasped. Subconsciously, I guess, I moved my face closer to his. 'Don't,' I whispered half heartedly. His hand on my face was doing things to me that are kind of embarrassing to mention.

'Are you scared now?' I whispered.

We were so close now we were practically sharing breaths.

Um, YEAH?

I didn't answer him verbally. 'Stop it,' I hissed at him, as his body pressed up against mine, making my breathing even more sharper. My hand moved to his upper arm, in what originally was a movement to push him away, but I guess I ended up just copping a feel, or something.

I wanted him away from me. I swear to GOD.

But I couldn't move.

And YEAH, I was SCARED.

She was SCARED. I could feel her heart beating harder in her chest. I wanted to scare her into her wits.

I tilted my head sideways a bit and looked at her through half-closed eyes. 'You know what they say. You have to face your fears . . . '

'Paul - ' I warned, but was kind of cut off.

I began kissing her, causing whatever her next words to disintegrate like sugar in my mouth. I wrapped my arms around her and held her close, so she couldn't get away.

Not that she was struggling.

SHIT.

I accidentally bumped my knee on the end of the desk. I didn't hesitate or stop, but I did decide to move to a more comfortable spot. Some place softer.

As in, pillow soft . . .

Her bed, if you didn't catch my drift.

Why was he DOING this to me? Making me want him like that, when I didn't actually LIKE him?

Oh, MAN.

It got scarier when there was a swirl of movement, and I was then being pushed deeply into a MATTRESS.

My mattress to be exact.

I choked on a breath, and yeah, tried to stop kissing him long enough to push him off of me. But it just wasn't happening. His kisses were searing fire on my skin.

And it didn't help that the Iron Grip had made its notorious comeback.

THIS WAS BAD.

I reigned in my carnal urges for a moment, just long enough to yelp at him, 'Get OFF of me!' and I started squirming furiously beneath him.

Wow. I can't believe how much effort I put into NOT feeling, when Paul kisses me. Makes you wonder, if sometime I should just, you know, not make an effort to resist -

WHAT AM I THINKING?

OFF, FIEND, OFF. YOU DARK ERASER SLAYER, YOU!

I looked down on her pleadingly. 'Suze . . . please . . . '

I couldn't help but feel cheated with every encounter we had. She always held back, always made things so hard for me.

Yeah. Very Hard.

'No,' I snapped, 'Paul, if you don't get the HELL away from me, I - ohhhhh . . . '

My eyes drifted closed in a painful pleasure as his lips came to my neck.

Oh, God . . .

Oh, that shut her up, all right.

I smiled as I slowly went to leave my mark on her skin.

What? So I wanted to give her a hickey. Claim her for my own. A mark she couldn't hide. A constant reminder that she couldn't avoid me. Sue me.

It helped matters NONE when his knee found its way between my legs. I gave a strangled cry, and but due to the neck thing, I couldn't move. I was immobilized, paralyzed, whatever you want. It's like when you stroke a shark on its nose. It can't move, because you're overloading its sensors.

Well, Paul was being a TOTAL jerk, and was doing that with my neck.

My hand slipped to her back, and I arched her into me as I continued roaming her neck with my lips. She let out a soft groan that had quite an effect on me. It numbed my senses and made me forget where we even were. I didn't care. I didn't care at all.

I was shaking. But I couldn't move.

I CAN INSULT HIM IN MY MIND THOUGH.

HA.

I BET YOU WEAR WOMEN'S UNDERWEAR.

AND THAT YOU REALLY DO LIKE FEET.

. . . This was SO not good.

My eyes were jammed shut. But . . . for a split second, I opened them, and saw something that made my arm stop.

I single sprinkle of materialization.

Acting fast, I swiped my leg and arm under Paul, and with superior shifter-strength, ( . . . oh, baby,) I launched Paul right off the bed. He flew gracelessly through the air for two seconds, and then landed with a small shout. With exaggerated movements, I LEAPT off my bed, flailing my arms in pathetic distraction.

'HI, JESSE,' I yelled with a huge, fake smile. 'NICE TO SEE YOU.'

Hopefully that was Shifternese to Paul for "GET THE HELL OUT."

Jesse stared at me. ' . . . Are you all right, querida? You're - flushed.'

THANKS. JUST SPELL IT OUT, JESSE.

My eyes widened. 'I'm FINE,' I assured him, my voice WAY high.

Jesse continued to stare. 'You look like you've been . . . running.'

I shook my head madly.

He was about to comment on another of my symptoms of Paul's kisses, when I did the only thing I could. I ran behind him, whirled him around, and gave him a BIG BEAR HUG. Paul's head peaked out from the other side of my bed, his eyes sinister. 'Go!' I mouthed at him. 'Missed you, Jesse,' I said to my ghostly boyfriend.

Oh. This was how the game was played. Yeah, make-out with me on your bed and then try to hide it from lover-boy? I see how it is.

I crossed my arms on the bed and looked up at her evilly. 'No,' I mouthed back at her.

I squeaked.

She continued to hug him, staring at me sharply. I decided it'd be a little fun to play with her.

Oh, darn it. I had to . . . sneeze.

Conveniently, of course.

I saw Paul's nose wrinkle up. 'Ah-ah - ' he began.

Right as the "CHOO!" came out, I broke away from Jesse, fell to my knees, and screamed out,

"THE HILLS ARE ALIIIIIIIIIVE –

WITH THE SOOOOOUND OF MUUUUUSIC . . ."

Jesse looked down at Suze like she was mad.

'Querida,' he said, 'Why are you doing that?'

Jesse picked her up off the ground with a chuckle, and brought her back to her feet. He was about to lean in to give her a kiss (HE CAN GO TO HELL FOR THAT), when all of a sudden, he stopped.

'Susannah . . . why is your neck red?'

And that, my friends, is what makes it all worth it.

I choked on my saliva, and almost began hacking it up. 'Max was - um, Max - THE DOG - just JUMPED at me this afternoon, because - Um . . . I had DOG MEAT on my neck, and he thought - ' I broke off lamely, 'Um, it was Max. He's - he's a feisty little poochie, ha ha - '

I'm a dead woman.

Jesse would have to be dense to believe that story . . .

'Are you all right, Susannah? The dog didn't hurt you, did he?' Jesse asked in concern.

. . . I rest my case. This guy is a loser.

Again, I just gave him another monstrous bear hug. He seemed to find my behaviour kind of funny. With another furious glare at Paul, who was now standing, I slashed a finger across my neck, in warning. A.k.a. "Get the hell out or I will GRIND YOUR BONES TO MAKE MY BREAD."

'Susannah, are you sure - '

'Nah, she has rabies.'

Oh. My. God.