AN: Chapter Eight! This is really going well. Thanks for all your reviews – we're passing 60! Yay! – and I am really sorry about the wait! The last chapter length will be the new default (starting for Chapter Nine and forward) meaning that every chapter will be as long as it from now on. Unless I have plans for it to run into two parts, that is. Lol. But since you guys had to wait for this one… It's a little longer.

I would also like to ask, how many chapters do you guys want? It'll be a fairly long story (approx 20 chapters) but I think I could manage to make it more. So, review and tell me your thoughts!

I'll stop with the boring Authors Note and give you chapter eight: Paul's warning (just as the chapter title suggests) Btw, Paul's girlfriend comes in next chapter!

-Elmer's Girl

Chapter Eight

'Susie! Someone's on the phone for you…oh, wait… I know who it is! Suze, It's Paul!' My mother yelled to me from downstairs. I groaned, clapped twice to turn on my lights, and promptly – also, to my chagrin – I fell out of bed. This only caused more groaning and when I did manage to stand up, Mom was wrapping her fists against the door.

Thump. Thump. Thump. 'Suze!' I heard her voice call from the closed – and locked – door on the other side. Mom's voice then adapted a more calmer tone and I could barely hear her voice whispering through the phone, yet I did. 'She'll be out of bed in a minute, honey.' Honey? My mom called Paul honey?

Weird.

Paul had become quite a friend to me after he had come to terms with his false feelings for me. He had hung around with Kelly for a week or two and then shifted onto other girlfriends. Er – No pun intended.

I think he dated a quite bitchy blonde girl for a while, Cornelia, her name was. Then he settled down with Abby, a seventeen-year-old with short, spikey red hair and these large hazel eyes – I quite liked her. We talked a lot. But Paul and Abby decided, after a while, just to be friends. They did have these weird flirting games on the internet though, they were very disturbing whenever I went over his house.

Yes, you read that right. I had been over Paul Slater's house, willingly. Not that anything had happened to us though, I made sure of that. Paul also understood – now, at least – that I was completely devoted to Jesse. I told him, yesterday at noon, to be exact, about my pregnancy.

He was delighted to hear it, Paul took it more lighter than my mother or Jesse. With only a mild shock. I think he expected me to get pregnant sooner or later.

Back to the matter at hand. I was pooped. My early-morning meeting with Ophelia had rid me of all energy I had once held. I cursed Paul under my breath for awakening me out of my deep slumber.

But then I looked at the clock, and, with a sheepish grin, I realized that Paul had every right to be calling me. It was ten past twelve in the afternoon, Silently, I still cursed him, but anyway…

I opened the door and plucked the phone out of Mom's hands. She just rolled her eyes at me and walked down the hall. Leaving me to deal with the Slater.

'Yo, Paul. This better be good.' I muttered into the phone, steadying myself on a bedpost, I stared into my mirror that hung on my wall not far from me.

I stared into the eyes of a hopeless case. The chestnut mop on the top of her head was so messy, it made Beyonce's hair, from the movie Goldmember, look like the neatest thing. That, looking back on that move, was saying something for my hair.

Her hair wasn't all that was messed up. She looked completely drained – exactly how I felt. I was so caught up at looking at the pale skin and bags underneath my reflection's eyes, that I did not notice Paul talking until he himself acknowledged the fact that I wasn't listening to him.

'Suze? Suze!' With a garbled sigh and a few words I hate to admit that I said, I replied with a groggy 'What?' and put all my remaining power in listening. Not doing anything else, just listening. Listening seemed hard enough.

'I have to tell you something very important. I don't know how to word it though… you might want to sit down.' I was directing all my power into listening, I wanted to say, idiot, do you think you could cut me a little slack? I went to bed at freaking six in the morning…

Sure, it was twelve in the afternoon but that only equaled in six hours, long enough for a normal human at my age, but not long enough for me. I need about eight minimum, and especially more now that I was two and a half weeks pregnant.

'Okay. What's up?' A migraine was beginning to take its toll as I continued to speak. I cursed Paul yet again, it wasn't as bad as a post-shifting headache but pretty damn close.

'Suze. This is serious.' Paul's voice was stony. I straightened at the icy tone that emitted from him. We were connected by our shifter powers so naturally I felt Paul's sudden radiant anger that bounced off of him. Anger because I wasn't taking him seriously. I guess I should, though, he couldn't really blame me. I just got out of freaking bed!

My moods are just so calming.

And my sarcasm exceeds me. I chuckled inwardly but regretted it as soon as I did, this mind-chuckle thing just made my migraine worse. Like, 1000 volts worse.

Meh, Technical terms confuse me.

'Fine. I'm sorry Paul, but I'm a cranky soon-to-be parent and I've been having these sudden migraine's, am I really to blame?' came my weak complain. I heard Paul sigh over the phone.

His next reply was obviously forced. 'I guess I get what your saying, sort of. Since I've never been a woman and do not desire too, I wouldn't have a clue what your going through in the mothering aka. Womanly area.' Then his voice changed from the slightly contemptuous to another humorless attitude.

'Listen. Suze. I'm sure it's just nothing, but… I've been having these visions. Dreams if you will, and… well. They aren't one's I can brag about, I mean. They're not… very nice.' Both of my eyebrows flew up at this sentence. Dreams? Paul was having dreams as well? My body suddenly felt more alert, watchful if you will.

'Let's not talk about this over the phone, Paul, especially since I'm so tired. I'll meet you at the Coffee Clutch at two-thirty, okay?' By the time these words penetrated my throat and made their way out of my mouth and into the dispatcher of the phone, I felt completely drained. Life sucked for Suze Simon at that moment.

'Will do.' Paul replied shorty. It seemed that he felt my tiredness. 'Although,' his voice adapted the sardonic mood again, 'It's twelve in the afternoon, Suze. You really should be out of bed by now…' I could practically feel his sly, I'm-so-better-than-you grin on me.

'Whatever Paul,' I rolled my eyes… then regretted rolling them again. My eyeballs were now stinging. Growling slightly in pain, I gripped the receiver harder, wishing Paul would end this converse.

'See you Suze.' Now it was just getting on my nerves, I grumbled a reply and disconnected from the call, almost throwing the phone across the room. But then I caught a hold of myself, and with the last burst of power I had, called out to my mother to come and get the phone.

When Mom came in, I quietly asked her if she could wake me back up at two, giving me exactly a half an hour before the designated time that Paul and I chose to chat at the Coffee Clutch.

Then, I am happy to say, I snuggled up in my still warm blankets, and drifted off with my own steady breathing as my lullaby.

-(§)-

I guess I wasn't as pooped as I felt, because only an hour later, I woke up again. This time I had energy and sense of co-ordination. Dressing in nothing too sexy but nothing to slouchy, I chose a pair of worn jeans and a bottle green tank-top.

Placing a denim jacket over these clothes, I slipped into the same leather boots I wore at 6am this morning when I went to Ophelia's and scooped up my purse. By then I was ready to go.

As I passed the threshold into the bathroom to brush my har, I was hit with a realization: I hadn't had morning sickness this morning. I was slightly relieved but worried as well… if you didn't have morning sickness was there something wrong with your pregnancy? I asked Mom this in distress and she just started to giggle at me.

'Of course not, Susie. You and your baby's fine if you don't always have morning sickness… you always manage to crack me up Susie.' Then her eyes filled with unshed tears again…'Come here, give your mom a hug.' She wrapped her motherly, caring arms around me and her embrace was one I could get lost in forever. It was so warm, so loving. Kind of like Jesse's. Except I had known my mother's hugs more longer than I had Jesse's. I loved them both the same.

'You know I love you, don't you mom?'

'Of course I do. I love you too, Suze.' My mother gave me a peck on the cheek and then left. I did my hair, just by brushing it straight – the result turned out to be more bushy though. Checking my hair off my list, I pinched Andy's car keys and wandered out on the balcony of our house.

Lost in the moment as I stared at the large, Victorian ex-hotel, I realized how much shit I really was in. I was pregnant. It seemed to be as if I only realized it for the first time.

I wasn't ready to be a mom! I started to panic. I was sure – so sure – that I was ready for this… but it turned out that underneath that array of confidence I had inherited so contentedly from my Dad, was fading away – and fast. When I finally had the courage to get into the car, I had to stay in the driveway for a few moments.

Banging my head on the steering wheel, careful to avoid the horn, I tried to calm myself. But I was fighting a loosing battle there, I thought, as another string of thoughts rushed through my head. I am a teenager… only seventeen, almost eighteen… I'm not ready for this… I want it… but I'm not ready…

Gathering up every ounce of courage I hadn't already lost, I drove out of our driveway and onto the road. I knew that the risks were too great for me to breakdown here, so in a way, I was more safe on the road because the road was more dangerous…

That made no sense whatsoever – even to me. And that's saying something.

Paul wasn't there when I arrived. But I walked to the nearest table – which happened to be the one closest to the window, to my relief – and sat. Sighing, I rested my head in my hands. It took only three or so minutes for me to remember why I was actually there to meet Paul…

He wanted to warn me of something. By the tone he had used, it was fairly serious and without a doubt about me. I groaned at this prospect – I didn't want anything to happen to me. Serious or comical.

There are times I wish I was normal. I wished right then that there was no such thing as Alegion, the evil and good planes of it and the Phostelle people. I couldn't really well wish that there was no such thing as mediators, because if I did, I would have never met Jesse. And I did not want that to become a reality. Jesse meant my life. And I guess, now under the circumstances – our unborn child as well.

I loved them both.

Tears stung in my eyes. They flew down as fast as raindrops would from the sky. Promptly, to my surprise, it did start raining. It seemed that the rain was me weeping, for the fact that I had everything I had ever wanted. Jesse, someone who loved me. And our baby, a definite proof of that torrid adoration we felt for each other.

It was then that Paul decided to grace me – cough – with his presence. He sat in the chair opposite me and looked out the window for an evanescent moment before turning back and seeing me for the first time. He jumped slightly, shocked at my appearance. 'Woah… Suze…are you -' he trailed off and just shook his head.

I didn't think there was anything wrong with what I was wearing. Then it dawned on me, he was talking about my constant, and quite loud, sniffles and tears. Also the small, wet puddle I had made on the rosewood table.

Looking at the colour of the table made my mind flash back to the table in Ophelia's house. Then another flash came – it was of me saying goodbye to my newfound friend, with a white box in my hands and walking towards my car. I remembered what was in that box. The robe that I had found with help of the pendant.

Ophelia said that if the Celtic Moonstone Pendant found the gown, than it is rightfully mine. I liked the fact that I had now received a new gown, but I was still a little hazy on the Pendant. I mean, it was doing a whole 'snitch from Harry Potter' rerun. Not that I've ever seen that move… er… yeah.

Okay, Doc said once that the special effects were pretty good so I watched it with him once. Good enough for you?

'Hey Paul.' I dried my eyes and looked up at the gorgeous man in front of me. Paul and I, friends; nothing more, taunted each other but gave complements as well. Paul called me "sweet thang" and I called him "gorgeous." It was our little routine. We think of it as a game.

'Are you okay, Simon, you look like shit.' I rolled my eyes at this, but when I looked up, I saw the seriousness in Paul's eyes.

'Thanks for being so truly honest. Side-effect of being pregnant, Paul, is that I will often feel – and look – like shit.' It was Paul's turn to roll his eyes. He dismissed the small debate between us and got straight down to business. A tactic of his – he wanted to become a lawyer – that he used quite often.

'Alright. You've made your point, so I'll get down to the key points.' Paul took a napkin from the dispenser leaning against the outskirts of the window. When I just nodded in reply, Paul continued. 'I've been having dreams about you, Suze, and not in the way I know your thinking.'

I raised an eyebrow, knowing what he meant. But then again… maybe what Paul was talking about was different to what I was. 'So you don't see visions of blood and gore when I am forced to kill my own brethren?' My other eyebrow raised. Paul looked a little knocked for six, and shocked aplenty.

I, however, was feeling quite indifferent. If he had come to tell me about the haunting dreams of, as I had said, blood, gore and the smell of death on myself, he was wasting his time. Because I had the dream's firsthand. But I guessed, in a way, he was just looking out for me. Which made me feel a little fuzzy inside. Paul caring for me, I mean.

'You mean…' Paul's voice trailed off again, in disbelief more than alarm. Yep, I thought, I was correct. He was talking about those dreams.

I rested my head ontop of my hands and looked at him through pensive, emerald eyes. '¿tu como bein?' I had learnt at least a little Spanish from Jesse... and I wasn't completely dumb.

'Si, Senorita.' Then he added in English, 'But Suze. These shadow people… their not to be messed with… Especially since their after you and your child. I should also tell you, they come from a place called–'

I had already heard this. 'Alegion. I know. They are a Ancient Alegionphost myth… I have been told all that before. I know what your saying and I thank you for warning me, Paul, it means a lot, but I really need to –'

Paul's steel blue eyes bore into mine, my own green eyes were fluttering every now and then but Paul's did not desist in getting wider. Hell, I didn't even know that eyes could go as wide as Paul's had right then.

'You know, how could you possibly know!' He exploded. But I don't think it was out of anger, I felt more of a shockwave coming from him than that of a rage.

'I have a friend. She's a psychic, and she knows these things.' I told him, not flinching once. Paul was still looking widely stunned at my knowledge on this topic. 'I'll give you her number and address, I'm sure she'd like to hear from more mediators.'

'Shifters.' Paul corrected me automatically. Then he seemed to snap out of it. I gave him a copy of Ophelia's phone number and address, then he asked me, quite politely. 'So, who is this psychic and how did you meet her?'

And so I spent another half an hour telling Paul about Ophelia and the day at the booth. I knew I could trust Paul so I also told him about what I thought I heard Ophelia say about me not being Shifter, or my name not being Suze Simon. Paul nodded, telling me that it could be possible I was something else. It would make more sense to this whole Blue and Black Alegion mesh.

I told him of the pendant and the way it zipped through the air towards the dress. Nearing to the end of our converse, Paul asked me if he would go on a date with me. I refused, telling him that I was with Jesse now and that he knew that and should respect that.

Paul's response was unexpected – instead of looking downcast as he would usually do when someone rejected or deprived him of something he wanted or had – burst into laughter.

After his little outburst of pent-up Paulie-giggles. Paul replied with a: 'No, Suze. You mistook my invitation. What I meant was a double date, I have a girlfriend already… you nut!' I put on a face of mock shock.

'A nut? I am deprived of your latest title and placed as a nut!' This caused Paul to laugh again and nod. Then when I didn't say anything he said: 'If you don't answer, I'll give you the blues!' Oh no. I knew what the blues were.

Paul's eyes morphed from normal sized to double and widened in moments. His flippy-floppy curly hair fell into his face as he pushed himself forward. The blueness of his irises was intoxicating… he looked just so helpless and pathetic, with those large, blue eyes…

'Stop it Paul. I'll ask Jesse later.' Paul did a little victory dance, then, realizing we were in a public place, flushed with mortification.

'Ooh… Ickle Paul is embawassed… Poor Paulie.' I cooed, squeezing his cheek before standing. 'I have to go. I'll call you around five?' Paul snorted.

'What-' I asked, eyebrows raised with a look of "Tell me or you die" written on my face. 'Prey tell, are you, Mr Paul Oliver Slater, snorting about?'

'Nuffin.'

'Aww… come on Paulie… You can tell Aunty Suze.' That made him choke on something, his spit, I guess. It was quite funny. I only patted his back with a large grin.

'What?' I asked again, this time for the chocking fit, not the snort.

'Aunty Suze?' Paul asked, a sly smirk setting on his face like the sunrise or when clouds formed – ready to rain down on all of Carmel.

'Shut up.' I hit him playfully. Then my watch beeped twice. 'Oh, I have to go. CeeCee wants to take me out for an hour or two!' I said goodbye to the still snorting Paul and left the Clutch.

The story I said was true, it turned out that CeeCee wanted me to help her choose a birthday present for Adam. I didn't really want to go – Cee is really picky with the presents she chooses for her "boo." Her nickname for Adam. I think it's cute, personally, but not as good as Querida.

Hopping into my car, I considered Paul's double date idea. But I really would have to ask Jesse. For a moment I wondered who Paul's new girlfriend was, but when I started to drive to CeeCee's house – the one she shared with Adam now – I forgot all about my pondering and everything was replaced with present ideas for the said boyfriend of my best friend.

AN: Woah… Huge Chapter. I kind of liked it. And for the people who are getting a little restless for the arrival of Paul's girlfriend, as the plot suggests, you will get to meet her next chapter. You won't be disappointed! So review and inspire me!

Until next time, Blessed Be.

-Elmer's Girl.

Es dificil de creer…
Pero fácil de vivir
si tú te enamoras.

La Fuerza de Amar (The Strength of Love) by Chayanne