Wow . . . look at our baby . . . she's 15! Ch15 is here for your reading enjoyment. Me and Hayles got a little feisty in this chapter (not with each other, you freakies,) so don't mind that.

Sorry for the inconvenience of you know, fanfiction not working.

BUT HERE IT IS.

Love Lolly and Hayles.

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Word travels fast around the SIA. I mean, if you did the math, that's six mouths . . . seven if you count Jesse's, even if technically his mouth doesn't exist anymore.

And one of those mouths belongs to CeeCee Webb, who's a freaking journalist. Journalists LIVE for gossip and detailed little stories. And Adam takes big news and turns it into a big joke. I thought for certain that he would have joked about our misfortune with the . . .well, Misfortunates.

But no. Word hadn't traveled through the whole SIA grapevine yet. In fact, the grapevine seemed to steer completely out of the direction of the Slater brothers.

That means Dani didn't tell Paul, which totally surprises me. And, apparently, Paul too. So surprised, in fact, that it made him just a LITTLE upset, but not at DANI. Oh NO, Paul just decided to go all POSTAL on ME instead.

Let's back-track, shall we?

You see, after I had left Paul and Dani to do whatever it is perfect people do, I decided to go downstairs for a snack. I mean, fighting sure does rouse an appetite. Right as I got to the stairwell, Jesse materialized so suddenly, I thought I might have tripped had I not seen him coming.

'Why do you always do that?' I asked Jesse, annoyed. Jesse smirked at me from his leaning position on the railing of the stairs. Even though I wanted to hate his guts, I had to admit that Jesse was one gorgeous creature.

'I haven't done that to anyone in years, Susannah. I miss the reaction,' Jesse said ever so calmly. I don't understand how anyone could sound so calm with such a smirk on their face. It seemed so mismatched, you know?

I rolled my eyes. 'What about Jack? Why haven't you scared the pee out of him yet?'

Jesse's smirk turned into a full-on dazzling white smile. 'Because, Susannah,' he said in a way that – I'm afraid to say – made my face go a little red, 'it is more fun when you do it. I missed your reaction.'

Great. He missed scaring the poop from my butt. Glad to hear it.

Ew.

But for some reason I kept thinking that maybe he actually missed me too. Okay, I didn't THINK it . . .I HOPED. But I shouldn't have, because I knew Jesse didn't. Miss me, I mean. Because why would he have let me go in the first place if he wanted my company?

You know what? Whether you're seventeen or twenty-three, guys in general are still pains in the butt. I guess you learn to deal.

Or you learn to knee 'em where it hurts. It's very effective, you know.

'Yeah . . .what do you want, anyway?'

I know. I was sounding rude and shit. But Jesse admitted that he loved to torture me, in not so many words. And I had just gotten out of a fight, and so adrenaline was still pumping in my veins, impairing my judgement slightly. I probably still had some energy to take him on too, if he hadn't totally taken me off-guard with the whole surprise pop-up.

When he didn't answer right away, I breezed past him down the stairs

Jesse calmly answered down to me as I neared halfway down, 'I'd like to make a gathering – a meeting, if you will – of the SIA. In the library.'

That stopped me right there. A meeting? As far as I knew, the SIA didn't DO meetings. We were, like, the anti-business or something. We just never had meetings because we never really needed them. There's only three things to do in the SIA: Research, Resolve, and Remove. So simple. No meeting necessary.

But I had a feeling, judging on the no-nonsense expression Jesse's face now possessed, that there was a little more to this "meeting" than the three R's of the SIA.

'If we must,' I sighed, which caused Jesse to give me a fleeting look of sympathy, before he sat on the edge of the stair rail and slid down it, Mary Poppins style. God. Does he float away on umbrellas too? Ugh. And we won't even GO into that whole Poppins dress.

Hot as Jesse is, he just wouldn't do to dress up in THAT.

How I shudder.

When he reached the bottom of the rail, he hopped off and landed expertly on both feet.

'I shall see you there, Susannah,' he called back up to me, waving a casual hand in the air as he went off to inform the others of the meeting.

Well, that's just dandy.

I blinked several times after him. It was now pretty much late afternoon. Like, almost six, if my watch speaks true to me. And it probably was, because, you know, the whole sunset thing.

Well, the sun was ALMOST setting. Not yet, but soon it would.

. . . Um, yeah.

Here comes the sun, little darling . . . and I say . . .

It's not all right.

Feeling weird, I wandered down the ever-dust-ridden hallways to the library, which didn't improve all that much, in the dust department. It was still old, and musty, and dull. Everything was either brown, grey, or green. Rich colours, faded over time. It hadn't changed since this morning, save the books that CeeCee had left spread across one of the tables. Her laptop was still there, too. The hard, lumpy green chairs were still around the tables, looking uninviting. I nervously sat on CeeCee's previous one, and started leafing boredly through her research, finding nothing of interest. With a sigh, I wondered where the hell CeeCee WAS.

. . . On second thought, actually, I didn't want to know so much.

You see, ever since young Cee had bagged old Adam, I was thinking that she was starting to think of herself as this little sex kitten. Which was SO CUTE. Not to say that she dressed like Dani, or anything. Eww. God no. That's like, illegal. Or it should be. But nah, CeeCee's confidence had increased SO much, it was mind-blowing. She now wore outfits that showed off her albino skin, making her look incredibly classy. She loved dark colours that made her paleness stand out more, going for shock rather than subtle. I was noticing that she loved purple. It brought out her eyes.

CeeCee was really beautiful, despite the albino thing. She'd risen above the nasty comments and the racism that she'd received in her life. Adam washed that all away for her.

And it was magical for her.

I could see that.

Hell, you just had to look at her eyes and see how happy she really was.

It was a truly wonderful thing. I was totally happy for her.

Just . . . you know . . . a little on the envious side, is all.

But aren't we all?

I mean, what more could a girl want? Being with someone who loves her that much.

Because, my friends, Adam was no different from her. He was in ecstasy.

Which made me wonder, how great WAS their sex life?

. . . Eww.

It must be pretty damn good. I mean, Dani needs Botox to smile that much. CeeCee seems to manage the whole permanent-smile thing naturally.

That was kind of sad, if you thought about it. To think that CeeCee had beaten me, to, you know, do It. Oh well. She deserved to be happy, more than me. It was as simple as that.

It kind of made me a little irritated to think that CeeCee was busy screwing Adam, when she should have been, you know, researching.

But THEN, I was having a fight with a Lucifer incarnate, so I couldn't really talk, right?

Which made me wonder, THEN, why the hell DID Paul ask me to fight? I mean, I totally didn't buy the whole I-wanna-see-your-fighting-skills thing. In fact, I had gotten the distinct impression that his plan all along had been to see if I was . . . well, bullshitting.

That's right, my lovelies. Paul didn't believe me about the Cole thing, and he wanted to find out for himself.

Well, um, I think that he found out.

If the whole "STOP! DON'T HURT ME!" thing was any indication.

God, kill me now.

I'm seriously. Yeah, because, after he'd done that – you know, put his fist down – I saw this really weird look in his eyes. In fact, I've been thinking about it ever since I ran out of that room. It was disturbing. It was a clash between anger, and grim satisfaction. The anger, obviously, was because Paul was furious with what I'd let myself become. You know, helpless and stuff, when it came to Cole Kennedy. And now, after much deliberation, I'm starting to think that the "grim satisfaction" was because, well yeah, it had been his little scheme into tricking me into reacting EXACTLY as I would if I was being whacked by Cole.

And trust me. This guy hit me often enough for me to have gotten in the habit.

Which is even more pathetic of me.

But, um, can we not go there just now?

Um, yeah. Thanks.

Sigh.

I waited boredly, touching the keys of CeeCee's laptop, waking up the screen. You had to type in a password to get into it, anyway. She kept all her top secret journalism stuff on her laptop, and I had no desire to intrude in her work. That laptop was her life. She wrote EVERYTHING on it. And I had a feeling that she didn't exactly keep, you know, back-up discs and stuff. Adam said she's writing a thesis, at the moment. About what, he hasn't dared to ask.

Maybe it's about the "Big Bang Theory."

Only . . . you know, CeeCee's got a new way of looking at the word "bang," since she started up with Adam.

. . . Okay, Suze, that is just wrong.

Um, uh huh.

'Suze!'

I looked up boredly. Jack came walking in, grinning. He looked pretty smooth, in a fresh pair of baggy jeans, with a few chains on the side, and a black Good Charlotte T-shirt. I noticed, with relief, that Jack wasn't a complete Paul clone. Jack seemed a little more laid-back as he clopped around in his Converse All Stars. Paul, as far as I knew, probably didn't even own a pair of sneakers. He'd probably never even CONSIDER purchasing sneaks AT ALL. It's just how Paul IS.

With this knowledge, I smiled at Jack as he slid into the chair next to me.

'So,' I said cynically, 'Jesse made you come to this gay meeting too?'

'Uh huh,' he said. 'It sounds boring.'

'It will be,' I assured him.

'Oh, thanks,' he answered sarcastically, 'You could have at least lied so I would have had false hope.'

I twitched up the corners of my lips again. He was so weird. But cute.

'This really IS like a job now, Suze,' Jack noticed.

'Meh,' I sighed, and rested my head on my folded arms, which were also on the table. 'Where's everyone else?'

'I dunno,' Jack shrugged. 'Do you know what the meeting's about?'

I looked back up at him. 'Jesse didn't tell you?' I asked in surprise.

He wrinkled his forehead. 'Uh, no. Why?'

I was about to reply, when Jesse materialized by the table in a blue shimmer. Jack smiled up at Jesse fondly and greeted him with a cheery, 'Hey Jesse.'

Another thing the Slater brother's don't have in common. Mutual feelings towards Jesse, I mean. You'd think that Paul's raw hatred and ill will towards Jesse would rub off on Jack or something. But no . . .Jack seemed to love Jesse. Not like I loved Jesse or anything . . .ew, that'd be GROSS. I mean love like you would love, well, your own brother. Jack's spirit, you could tell, would get so much higher when Jesse was around.

Jack was different around Paul, like he became a totally different kid. He would try to act older, often times imitating whatever his older brother did. It was like Jack was trying to impress Paul somehow.

I don't even know why the kid cared. Sometimes Paul can be a little . . .

'BeeeYOOOOtiful afternoon, idn't it?' Adam called as he burst in the room, tugging CeeCee along with him.

Behind the happy couple came Paul with Dani who whispered something sensuously in his ear. Paul smiled at Dani playfully and mumbled something back at her, which caused her to giggle like a little schoolgirl.

'Yeah,' I replied to Adam, trying to keep down my gag reflex, 'Beautiful.'

'So what's this about, anyway?' CeeCee asked, slipping in her seat slowly.

'Yeah,' Adam said, looking around casually, 'I mean, I just got out of the shower and there was a memo about it, I think. I can't read Calligraphy all that well, Jesse.'

Adam couldn't see it, but Jesse smiled at him and shook his head. Jesse turned his head towards me and glanced at me for a fleeting moment, but quickly turned away when I met his gaze.

I felt pretty nervous, as Jesse slowly took a seat, about the meeting to come. I guess it was because I knew what was coming, what was going to be said.

Maybe everyone knew. I hoped everyone knew. Not about the part where Charlie tried to strangle me, or where Nathan kissed me, or how Robin's voice made me shiver . . .

Gosh. I just wanted them to know that I found the Misforts. Me. ALL ME!!

I felt something brush my elbow, and I looked up to see Paul, taking the seat next to Dani, which also happened to be next to me. I looked away quickly, suddenly becoming interested in my hands, trying to ignore my burning cheeks.

'Uh, can I ask something? Jesse's supposed to be heading this thing, right?' asked Adam.

'Yeah.'

'Well, um, there's going to be a little communication error. Jesse's a great guy and all, but he's just a little bit . . .dead.'

'Just a little?' Paul asked nastily.

Jesse ignored his witty little line and waved a piece of paper, immediately dragging all of the attention towards him. Especially from Adam and CeeCee, who looked at the paper in awe. I rolled my eyes. It's like they've never seen a ghost before.

Oh wait. They haven't.

'Susannah,' Jesse addressed me solidly, 'I would like to enlist your help, to pass the highlights of this meeting along to Adam and CeeCee. Could you, perhaps, serve as a translator?'

'Why not make it easier and just let someone with a heartbeat hold the meeting?' I asked dully.

'You had an opportunity, Susannah, to hold a meeting of your own,' Jesse replied simply, 'I don't remember you jumping at that opportunity earlier this morning.'

I sniffed indignantly. 'You smell.'

'Real mature, Suze,' CeeCee snickered.

'Yeah? Well you smell too.'

'She smells NICE,' Adam said as he kissed CeeCee's cheek.

Jack's nose wrinkled teasingly. 'No she doesn't.'

'I do too!' CeeCee piped up. 'It's Oscar de La Renta.'

'That's old lady cologne.'

'It's not cologne. It's perfume –'

Riiiip.

No, someone did NOT let rip. Like, fart or something.

Ewww.

Nah. That was Jesse, dramatically ripping the piece of paper he held in his hand, as a means to call order to this out of control group. CeeCee's eyes widened, and her mouth closed.

Even when you can't see him, Jesse's still sometimes intimidating.

Paul pushed his chair back and propped his feet on the table, folding his arms in front of his chest. This caused Dani to stir from her private ogling of Jesse, and she glanced at Paul in mild disgust.

You could so tell she wanted to jump on Paul for bad table manners. But, alas, this is AMERICA. It's a free country. There was nothing her snobby British ass could do about it. Especially since Paul could whip out how her correcting him on his manners is "unconstitutional" and he could possibly drop a big fat lawsuit on her.

Well, that's enough to make ME think twice about it.

'What's so important anyway?' Adam asked. 'Did the toilet paper run out or something? Should I alert the media?'

Paul waved his hand boredly. 'Let the man talk. I'm interested.'

Oh, sure. Riiiiight.

Because there was so missing the undeniable, suppressed loathing in Paul's eyes. Or Jesse's for that matter. The guys hated each other. It was so obvious. Well, to all people who could actually SEE Jesse.

But whatever.

Jesse took a deep, unnecessary breath and started, 'I am sure by now you have probably heard that two of our own, Susannah and Danielle, have come across other ghostly inhabitants in –'

Paul got to his feet rather quickly. Now, I'm sure, he really WAS interested in what Jesse had to say, if his quick movement were any indication. 'Wait. What?'

'Yeah, what?' Adam went.

'The fact has come to my attention, and I think we have a duty to –'

'When, exactly, did this happen?' Paul demanded. 'And why didn't anyone tell me?'

Uh, oh. Just as I feared. Here we go . . .

'What, happen?' frowned CeeCee.

'Paulie, dear, calm down,' Dani cooed, touching Paul's arm lightly from where she was sitting. 'Sue and I came across them earlier this morning. I would have told you sooner, but I was so . . . shaken about it afterwards.'

Gag me with a spoon. THIS was too much.

I had the bravery to softly snort in cynicism.

'Oh, is this about the ghosts you found earlier?' Adam asked with a yawn. 'I already know about them. Can I sleep now?'

'Adam,' CeeCee warned.

'HE knew before I did?' Paul asked incredulously. 'How does Adam McTavish know before ME? He can't even SEE them for Christ's sake!'

'Hey, watch it, Judge Judy. I have a right to know, too,' Adam snapped boredly.

Jesse cleared his throat and continued quietly among harsh, loud chatter, 'From what I hear from Susannah and Danielle, these ghosts' intentions are quite . . . malevolent –' . . . Erm, more like horny '- I'm afraid we must take action immediately to ensure our safety in this school.'

'For the mortals, at least,' I said boredly. 'Why don't we stick Anti-ghost stickers everywhere? That'll put 'em in their place, right? Oh, hang on. That will limit your roaming of the school, Jesse,' I beamed flatly at him.

His gaze grew stony.

And I didn't care.

'Susannah, this is serious. Please consider the risks of having them here, possibly to attack again at any point in time,' he said gravely, like someone had died, or something.

Which was just it.

Only now, they'd come back to haunt us.

And I mean that so literally.

Ow. My foot's numb.

Sigh.

Paul was still incredulous, and kind of, um, angry. Well, I totally expected him to be. You know? 'Who else knew about this? About the ghosts being found?' he demanded coldly.

'Um, the ghosts?' I suggested.

. . . What? They did.

'Sue and I knew, because we saw them. Jesse saved us from them, so he knew. And I think Sue told CeeCee and Adam,' Danielle said in her hideous accent.

Paul looked scandalized.

'You didn't think to tell me?' he shot at me heatedly.

I yawned. 'Slipped my mind,' I shrugged.

Paul glared at me furiously. Remind me to annoy him more often. He looks so funny when he's pissed.

Teehee.

'With the Mortal Combat, and all,' I added.

'I like that game,' Jack said happily.

We ignored him.

'And plus,' I pointed out stubbornly, 'Miss U.K could have told you. Shaken? God, shaken, my big toe. Give her some scary glares, why don't you? Or will her anger with you affect her bed performance, or something? Rage is a great aphrodisiac,' I said crudely.

CeeCee stared at me in shock, and Adam snorted.

Aphrodisiacs? Like I, Suze Simon, would KNOW.

Paul, next to me, looked really pissed off.

Ha.

'If it makes you feel better, I didn't know either,' Jack said quietly.

Jesse coughed, trying to get attention.

We ignored him, too.

'I'm afraid it doesn't, Jack. If you all didn't notice, Jack and I work here, too. So kindly inform us when something of this magnitude pops up. I could have handled it.' The funniest thing? His comment was to everyone, but his fiery eyes of ice were piercing ME as he said it. Yeah. Like I was the only one who knew about it.

I let out a noise of nonchalance.

'I don't have to tell you anything, Paul,' I said smoothly. 'I'm not the one fucking you.'

'Ha!' Adam yelled in delight.

Paul's eyes bugged a little.

'Suze!' CeeCee scowled.

And Jack just cracked up laughing. 'Eww!' he snickered wildly.

Wow. Look at little Susie, coming out of her shell. Our baby's growing up, and swearing, and everything. Aww. Idn't it so cute?

Teehee. I said "fuck."

Fuck, fuck, fuck-y fuck. How'd you like that, Slater scum?!

Um . . . sorry.

Jesse looked a little sick. 'Susannah . . . please. Not in front of Jack.'

Jack's little face was beaming brightly. 'I can handle it,' he laughed immaturely.

'No you can't,' everyone – but me – snapped at him.

Jesse made an impatient noise, one which was useless to CeeCee and Adam, who couldn't hear the dead like us poor souls could, 'Please, everyone. It doesn't matter who knew or didn't know about this. What's important is that it has happened, and we must do something about it.'

I sighed, and put my head on the table again, facing like, um, AWAY from Paul. He was still majorly pissed. In translation for Cee and Adam, I muttered boredly, 'He told us to shut the hell up.'

Jack was still grinning like the Cheshire cat on steroids. 'Something like that,' he said energetically to them. Hey, if swearing is all it takes to get thirteen-year-olds to worship you, I should be profane more often, huh?

Jesse's ghostly voice grumbled. 'I propose that first, before taking any course of action, we must present this to the Good Padre. He is well enough that we can visit him right away. I think it is necessary that he knows about this too, and that it would be most wise to seek his advice.'

'Now?' I asked skeptically.

'What are the ghosts like?' asked CeeCee dreamily, for she was not suffering from Jesse's boring speech.

I rolled my eyes. 'Ask Dani,' I suggested. 'She can provide you with all the major details, down to penis size. I'm sure she measured.'

'Suze,' CeeCee said, a little shocked, 'What's gotten into you?'

Jack started giggling again.

Whoa.

What? So SUE me. I was angry at Paul. You know, for the whole forcing-the-truth-about-Cole out of me before. He knew everything he WASN'T suppose to know, and it wasn't FAIR. I had my right to privacy, right? I had my right to, um, independence?! This was AMERICA. I was allowed to DO THINGS ON MY OWN.

And if my methods of getting rid of my savage ex were a little . . . um, slow, then that was my own problem. NOT some snobby LAWYERS who has a POLE jammed up his BUTT.

A REALLY BIG POLE.

WITH SPIKES ON IT.

AND SUPER GLUE.

SO IT COULD NEVER COME OUT.

IT WAS STUCK UP THERE FOREVER.

AND IT MADE SHITTING DIFFICULT!!!!

. . . Something like that.

Dani gave me a sarcastic noise. She was probably giving me a look to match, but I wasn't facing her. I had my eyes closed, and my right ear resting on my arm. 'She's just a little shocked from the confrontation,' she assured everyone. 'I would be, if I had nearly gotten strangled to death. Poor thing, must be horrible to be so defenseless.'

Don't you just LOVE how she sugar-coated THAT?

I jerked up angrily, and shoved Paul's face backwards with the palm of my hand, so I could make vicious eye-contact with his skanky girlfriend. 'At least I didn't start MAKING OUT WITH THEM when they wanted to get frisky,' I retorted hotly.

Paul looked kind of weirded out at the fact that I'd plowed my hand at his nose. His nose was all dry. Like, you know, not sweaty. It was . . . you know, a nice nose. Nice skin. Like, as if he used a good brand of guy moisturizer.

Whoa, Suze, off topic much?

Dani looked pococurante. 'They kissed me. Simple as that.'

'You kissed them back!' I snapped at her.

'But that means nothing to you,' Paul's muffled voice said dryly to me, 'So she's in the clear now, right?'

I fleetingly shot him a look of alarm, fearful that he'd tell everyone present, in detail, of what his hidden meaning was when he said that, but he didn't.

Though I wouldn't have put it past him, because he was seriously annoyed at me, at the current time.

'Paul, go catch a chicken,' I glared.

'I accommodated them in my defense. You did not. And you almost got yourself killed,' she said smugly. 'I think that I was the smarter one.'

Paul looked a little disturbed at this, sending Dani a curious glance.

'You LIAR,' I yelled, bashing my fist dramatically, 'You SO – '

'Senoritas!' Jesse said, his volume commanding and irritated. 'Por favor! Calm yourselves. We need to decide what to do, and as I said before, I believe it would be wise to consult Father Dominic about the issue. Does everyone agree?'

Dani, giving me a look of bubbling, sizzling poison, cocked her perfectly profiled head to the side, and gave her Cosmo-Cover-Shoot smile, purring, 'It's a marvelous idea, Jesse.'

Adam and CeeCee looked at her blankly.

'What is?' Adam asked.

'Susannah, tell them, please,' Jesse said impatiently.

I sighed.

'Cross-dressing, Adam,' I said dully.

'What? Susannah, no – '

Jack cracked up again. Like, REALLY.

I guess I can understand. The mental images I just very wonderfully supplied everyone with of Paul and Jesse in fishnets and heels, were, perhaps, not necessary, yet ever so comical.

'Come on Jesse,' I teased boredly, 'We all know you used to try on my panties when I was at school.'

Paul rolled his eyes, and grunted.

Jack was shaking with rambunctious laughter.

'Really?' Adam asked in gullible astonishment.

'Can we pipe down?' Paul drawled from my right, getting annoyed as well. 'I don't care about Jesse's "tendencies". We need a plan – '

'Sure you care, Paul,' I quipped. 'The sight of Jesse in his leather mini makes you get hot all over.'

Jack was now a lost cause, he was laughing so hard.

Must be great to be thirteen.

Paul, however, wasn't so amused.

YEAH. BECAUSE IT'S TRUE. YOU'RE GAY. DANI'S JUST A COVER UP.

'Go to a gay bar, already,' I said to him.

. . . God, a little bold, Suze?

I didn't care. I was annoyed.

Yeah. And Paul was still mad at me.

Well SORRY.

'Are we keeping you from something, Suze? Or are you actually going to be serious about our job?' he demanded in a cold tone. I sat up, and looked up at him tiredly. 'I don't think you see the seriousness in this situation. Jesse's right, for once. If I'm not mistaken, you of all people should be the most concerned about this, especially since you are now possibly their biggest target.'

Dani made a little noise of affront, which Paul chose to ignore.

'What the hell?' I asked. What bullshit. Me? Why the hell would they go for me? I mean, okay, yeah, I've been attacked twice now, already, (three times if you include the SHOWER, and the BLOOD, and the EWW-ness of it all,) but yeah, attack me AGAIN? What are the odds?

Honestly. How random of him.

'It's like prison,' I explained. 'They'll go for the guy with the small hands. Run Jack, run.'

Adam snorted.

Jesse was regarding me stiffly, too. 'Slater is right, Susannah. You should take this more seriously. You were the one they were strangling, after all, if what you say is true.'

Ha. He didn't believe me, either.

Get a life, Jesse. Literally.

'Oh, that?' I smiled prettily, 'I made that up, mommy. I just want attention.'

'Well, Charles almost cutting off your airways sure did the trick –'

'You're just glad he didn't FRIGGING FINISH THE JOB,' I shouted at Miss-Inflatable-For-Your-Convenience – she probably pumped them up in the morning or something – when Paul bashed his fist on the table, making everyone jump in alarm. Even Jesse.

Whoa.

It was like he was about to start shrieking, "Order! ORDER IN THE COURT, I SAY!" or something equally as retarded.

'Shut UP,' he hissed. AT ME. NOT AT THE OTHER CRIMINAL PARTY.

GOD. What? Was he worried that she wouldn't screw him if he embarrassed her, or something? JESUS.

'Can I go now?' Jack whined.

'No,' CeeCee said, glad to contribute something.

'Not yet. Susannah, can I trust you to call the hospital to ask for a visitation this afternoon or evening?' Jesse seemed a little BITTER about something. What that was, I couldn't guess. Maybe it was the fact that our oxygen tasted so good . . .

God, I'm such a bitch.

Well, at least Dani rates higher on the Bitch-O-Scale than me.

So s'all good.

'Please, Susannah?' Jesse said through gritted teeth. 'Ring the hospital, on the telephone?'

Nuuuuuuh. On the smell-o-phone.

'I can do it, Jesse,' Dani volunteered with a toothy smile.

'Anytime, anywhere,' I muttered under my breath.

Paul heard.

'That's IT,' he yelled at me. 'Suze, go get a fucking life.'

I blinked at his volume. My heart literally stopped for like, three seconds or something, before it cautiously resumed pumping. My pupils were tiny. I was kind of, you know, freaked that he yelled at me that furiously. I mean, God, I know he was angry, AND that he was genetically P.M.S, but honestly.

Jack's smile was scraped of his face.

See what I mean by postal? And it wasn't even fair! Dani didn't tell him about it either. It was as much her fault as is was mine. And you know what? At least I wasn't cheating on him with eighteen year old GHOSTS. I practiced self-restraint, something DANIELLE obviously didn't possess.

But Paul didn't choose to see it that way. Thus, his gaze was angled at me, stinging like a bunch of arrows as it pierced my heart.

In all honesty, Paul's suggestion kind of hurt. I mean, it's like he was telling me that I hadn't changed at all, and that I was still that naïve little seventeen year old that hadn't the foresight to see that her life was about to spin out of control. And maybe he was right, AGAIN. Maybe I hadn't grown up. Maybe I hadn't changed.

And maybe I never will. I'll always be this pathetic loser who can't keep a job or fight off her abusive ex. And this fact will never be laid to rest by Paul, who I'm sure would constantly remind me of my horrible reality.

I was too emotionally wounded to reply. The whole room developed a momentary silence, which spread faster than the flu virus in the middle of November.

'Meanwhile,' Paul continued once he was convinced he had everyone's attention, 'the rest of us can go and visit Father Dominic. That is, unless you can handle this maturely, Suze.'

I shot Paul an ireful glare. Paul was treating me like a freaking two-year old. 'I can handle anything.'

Oh. Shouldn't have said that. The look Paul gave me scared me, because I knew that at any moment, he could reveal what I COULDN'T handle.

Namely, Cole Kennedy.

I saved myself quickly by springing to my feet. 'I'm on it. Done. Dommy before dinner. Gotcha.'

With a snap and a quick wink, I pushed my chair back in place, waiting for the meeting to be officially closed. At my past avenues of employment, the boss never held meetings before. If there was a problem, it was pointed out and fixed right away, or else heads went rolling. So I really didn't know how these things worked.

Jesse exhaled gustily. 'Meeting adjourned.'

Everyone mumbled something incoherent as they followed my suit, pushing in their chairs. I chanced a nervous glance at Paul.

I guess I was still kind of worried that Paul might all of a sudden go, "Funniest thing. Guess how Suze got that bruise on her cheek . . . "

Or something.

'I'll just, um, go make that phone call now,' I said nervously. 'But, uh . . . what if they won't let us see him? I mean, don't they have rules or whatever?'

'Just show 'em a little leg,' Adam winked at me.

'Shut up, Adam,' CeeCee said as she nudged Adam in the ribs. He doubled over comically, meriting a chuckle from Jack.

'That won't be necessary, Susannah,' Jesse said solemnly. 'Last time I checked, Father Dominic is in a fairly stable condition.'

'You could say it's his birthday, if all else fails,' Adam suggested with a grin. 'They might go for that.'

I never thought of that. Shows how uncreative I am. Or maybe it just shows how sneaky Adam is. Paul was looking away from me, but where he was looking, (at Jesse) still obviously made him angry, because he was glaring like there was no tomorrow, for him to glare some more.

GLARE WHILE YOU STILL CAN!

. . . Or, um, something.

'How old is he, anyway?' I asked, curious.

'Really old,' Jack replied, wrinkling his nose.

Adam smiled. 'I think he's like one of those Redwood trees, with the rings in the middle. Count his wrinkles, and maybe you'll find out.'

Jack and I sniggered. Father Dom was pretty wrinkly. Not prunish or anything, but I'm sure counting all of his wrinkles would be pretty hard.

And plus. Don't guys have other wrinkles, in, um, certain places?

But hell. It was a penis. Dani wouldn't mind exploring. She wasn't picky.

Skank.

Serious. She was probably the cover girl of the "STOP RAPE; SAY YES" policy.

Jesse cleared his throat and looked at the old clock impatiently. It didn't work anymore. The time was stopped at 1:35. 'Susannah . . . '

'Um, I'll go get my cell phone.'

'Is that upstairs?' CeeCee asked. 'Don't you need someone to go with you?'

I shrugged. 'Up you hop, Jack. Let's go on our honeymoon.'

Jack, looking a little too eager for a thirteen year old going for a walk up a flight of steps, scrambled out of his chair, grinning like an idiot. I think he was still won over from the whole "cross-dressing" crack I'd made.

'Actually, Jack,' Paul muttered to his brother, 'Go sit back down. I need to have a word to Suze.'

'But she asked ME to go,' Jack glared. 'Not you.'

'Believe me, I'm getting no pleasure from our chat,' he assured Jack, to which I gave Paul a nasty look.

'You heard him, little guy,' I snapped at him, 'I'm going on my little phone retrieval with him, not you. If you have a problem with that, I can make it so you'll have to get a testicle retrieval.'

Again, Jack's face split into a huge grin.

Paul, with a very hard face, just stared at me. It was kind of, um, creepy.

'Okay,' I relented, and sighed. 'Jack, honey, I'll call you.'

Again, he laughed childishly.

With constantly blinking eyes, I exited the library with Paul.

'What?' I asked.

I felt that it was best to remain as detached from him as possible. Otherwise, there was NO way that he'd change his image that he had of me. You know, the "poor, defenseless, stupid, weak Susie."

I wasn't that.

Well, not all the time.

And I didn't want him to see me as that.

Why the hell I CARED what he thought about me, I didn't know.

I mean, I shouldn't have. But I guess I did.

How gay.

'Why the hell didn't you tell me about it?' he snapped angrily. 'I had a right to know, Suze. You had plenty of opportunity to tell me, so what made you think you'd be all idiotic and not let me in on my JOB?'

'Oh, please,' I rolled my eyes. 'Get over it, already.' And I walked down the hall, as people, you know do. Walk down halls, I mean.

Only, I guess that on the rare occasion, people walking down halls get stopped by people bigger and more powerful than them. Because Paul totally grabbed my arm, and spun me back to face him.

'Is it because you didn't want to look bad, or something?' he demanded, his eyes glinting like a bunch of sharp knives.

'What?' I said, despite the fact that I'd heard him perfectly. I was stalling my answer. Of COURSE that was why I hadn't told him. Well, that and the fact that I didn't want HIM to look GOOD.

Which was basically the same thing, right?

YEAH.

'You don't want to look bad. Weak. That's why you didn't say anything to me,' he said, his jaw-line set stubbornly. I just blinked, as I do.

'No way,' I laughed nervously. 'I have to go make a phonecall, Paul. So, go back into the library, and carry on with your very nauseating socializing with your girlfriend, while I do the job that Jesse just asked me to do. Okay? Because seriously, his whole glaring thing is getting old.'

Paul angrily gripped my arm harder. 'Answer me. You didn't tell me because it was ME. You would have told Jack. You were going to FIND Jack. You don't TRUST me, Suze. How can I trust you?'

'You don't have to,' I said stiffly. 'I don't care if you trust me. It totally doesn't matter what you think of me.'

And yet, it did. I valued Paul's opinion more than I wanted to.

He laughed hollowly. 'Then why didn't you say anything?' he tested. Before I could answer impatiently, he said, 'Exactly. You think that I'm going to take away this stupid victory thing that you have. You think I don't notice, Suze? How you're always competing? I notice, all right. And you know what?' he leaned in very close to me, so his lips were by my ear, and sending my body into subtle, sub-zero shivers, and whispered chillingly, like he was this satanic sex god, or something, '. . . I'm not going to let you win.'

I froze, for a moment.

I hoped his hand didn't feel the sudden chill of my small wrist. But I totally did. My whole body was suddenly really cold. My arms even had goosebumps.

Like, whoa.

I yanked my arm away from him, refusing to look at him. 'Piss off,' I said savagely. 'I'm not competing, with you. Ha. I laugh at the thought of you, ha, ha –'

Yet I didn't exactly sound that sure of what I was saying, you know?

Paul, giving me a half-satisfied, half-angry look, took a single step back, and crossed his arms coolly. 'Whatever you reckon, Suze,' he said simply. He TOTALLY knew what he'd just done. What he'd just made me feel. That he'd chilled me. Little did he know how much.

Like, my pride was kind of ice-solid now, too.

The fact that he was aware of the power he still had over me, was kind of scary. Okay, really scary. Once again, I was forcefully reminded of how much I didn't trust this man standing before me. Someone who I knew I couldn't anger, or else I would regret it severely.

I sighed, making as much noise as I could with one exhale of breath. 'I'm so glad that you've deprived me of an escort, Paul, namely your brother. I shall venture alone now. Go screw yourself – I mean, you know, see ya.'

And I tried to make a dramatic exit up the stairs, but he totally called to me, 'No, Suze. I'm coming, so you don't do anything ELSE wrong and then neglect to tell me about it.'

. . . Butt muncher.

Hmph!

'If you REALLY want to know,' I babbled, 'I didn't tell you because I was afraid you might exorcise them or something, especially after hearing that they dared layeth a hand on fair lady Danielle.' Quite a fib. I guess I just wanted him off my case.

But you know Paul. ALWAYS persistent, no matter what.

Surprisingly enough, Paul didn't try to defend himself. Which kind of left me to wonder . . . would he have exorcised them had he known at the time? What would happen if they came back for more?

From, you know. Danielle. Not me. He didn't give a shit about me.

Or even if he did . . . he would exorcise ghosts for me. Just, you know, pretend to care about a certain stalker that he believes I have.

In which his belief was kind of true.

Instead, Paul asked, 'How many of them were there?'

'Four. They were killed in the attic in 1969. Big fire. Nasty, nasty stuff, I tell you,' I answered casually.

Paul seemed slightly impressed. 'You must have done your homework, Suze.'

'Yeah.'

What I didn't tell him is that I was only able to find this information only after CeeCee practically pushed me in the library. Which made me feel kind of bad because, well, CeeCee spent most of her spare time in there researching, while I struck gold almost immediately.

I could have given her SOME credit, I suppose, but you don't understand how capable I felt with Paul's look of approval. Like maybe I'd finally get MY piece of Success Pie.

Paul's already had enough. Success Pie, I mean. He's got to fit in those high-priced business suits, you know? And Dani had a huge portion as well. She probably barfed it all up afterwards, though.

'What else do you know?' Paul asked, a penetrating gleam in his eye.

I hesitated for a moment. I didn't know quite how much to tell him. Part of me wanted this to be my proud secret; that I knew more about them than Paul did. But the other part of me was afraid of what Paul might do – or TELL – if I didn't divulge him in this knowledge.

I frowned in mock thought. 'One of them was called Robin, I think. Coulda been Robert. Gosh darn, Paul, I really don't know. You might want to ask their bed-buddy.'

Paul, yet again, dodged my comment. You know, for someone who is so hungry for knowledge, you'd think he'd be HAPPY I told him about Dani. I mean, I didn't exactly say "Hey Paul, your girlfriend wants to get in Jesse's pants. And Robin's, and Charles's, and Nathaniel's, AND I'm even sure she'd get it on with the little blonde one too."

I hinted strongly, though, and he wasn't even questioning it. He obviously trusted Dani . . . a whole lot more than he should. It was like he was completely blind to the hungry stares, flirty winks she gives to Jesse, and even my obvious comments. Or else, he CHOSE not to see them.

But WHY? Why would he choose to put up with that? He could so dump her and go for someone who'd actually LOVE him.

Of course, who needs love when you're dating a supermodel? The sex probably made up for it.

. . . Ewww, Suze, ewww.

Paul saw right through me, and shot me a doubtful, 'Hmmm.'

Okay. This was annoying. He might as well know it all. I mean, if I didn't tell him, he'd probably get all mad at me AGAIN, and then probably sue me for something ridiculous that has a really long name that I couldn't pronounce and then he'd tell everyone about Cole and then my life would be an even bigger train wreck than it already was . . .

'Fine. Their names are Robin, Nathaniel, Charles, and Bart. They're all eighteen years old, except for little Bart, who's about seventeen. They supposedly committed suicide in the attic thirty years ago, and they all appear to be heterosexual,' I smiled. Paul scowled as I continued, 'At least, that's what Dani concludes. She also thinks they're pretty hot. Me? I like my older men. But you know? To each her own. Personally, I'm not into pedophilia.'

That just made me realize something . . .

I'm twenty-three. Jesse's twenty, thereabouts.

Oh great. How embarrassing.

I AM a pedophile.

Joy.

'Why?' Paul asked, a smirk crawling across his face. 'Did they try to put the moves on you or something?'

. . . Shut up.

'Oh God, you and the Misforts have something in common,' I said with my trademark eyeroll. I continued up the stairs again, leaving him behind.

Paul jogged up the stairs ahead of me and stopped me with a wide grin. 'What's that supposed to mean? Good taste in women?'

Uh . . . what was THAT supposed to mean? Was he serious?

'Actually, not so much,' I replied, in reference to Dani. Could he have picked anyone skankier or bitchier? Of course, it was also a little blow to myself as well. I mean, he liked me back in the day, and look how I turned out. Loser with a capital "L".

'I meant to say your, um, persistence. And, now that I think of it, your despicableness.'

Paul looked like he wanted to say something, but before he could, Dani's shrill accent pierced the air-waves, calling, 'OoOOH Paulie, my pet! Honey!'

'Oh, damn,' I said, my words oozing with sarcasm. 'Go get her, champ.'

I didn't wait for a reply. Instead, I pushed Paul out of the way and went up the stairs the rest of the way. I heard Paul call back to Dani, 'Coming, sweetie.'

I swear, I almost peed in my pants laughing. SWEETIE? How unoriginal was THAT? He could have at least shown some creativity in his pet name. And the way he said it . . . it just didn't sound right. Paul's too businesslike and powerful to use cutesy pet names like sweetie. It was like he forced it out, just for show.

But I shouldn't talk. The only thing Cole ever called me was "you dirty little whore". On a good day, he'd call me a "nasty bitch".

Feel the love, ya'll.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 8

About an hour later, after a dinner of Adam's Macaroni Cheese, we found ourselves once again in the hospital waiting room. Paul was looking at an old issue of Golf Digest while Dani's head rested lightly on his shoulder. Jack seemed content cracking jokes with Adam about celebrities on the cover of People Magazine, while CeeCee continued writing her thesis on her laptop. Jesse hovered around, looking at everyone from a distance, occasionally disappearing and reappearing to check in on Father Dominic.

Hospitals kind of gave me the creeps. Not like the mall did or anything, but just the general jitters. Most of my experiences in the hospital were where I was the one in the hospital bed, hooked to IV's and being bandaged up.

Oh, and getting severely dumped. But that's a different story.

I flipped boredly through an outdated issue of Family Circle. I didn't have a family, and if things kept on they way they were, I didn't think I'd EVER get one. I mean, I can't even get a decent boyfriend. What good would learning how to cook a "Thanksgiving dinner even the kids will love" be?

But, I thought grimly, it keeps me from thinking about other things like painful memories that hospitals usually brought on.

Arguing, betrayal, tears, my life coming apart . . .

And then, I remembered something I hadn't reminisced about in a long time . . . that time Jesse touched my cheek after the RLS Angels had their way with me.

How warm the back of his hand felt against my cold, bruised cheek, how that was the only part of me undamaged, how much I wished my lips hadn't been split open where I had to get stitches, because I wanted to lay a big fat one on Jesse right then and there.

That was the moment I realized I was desperately in love with Jesse. Possibly the best thing that had ever happened in my life. My greatest happiness

Ironically enough, it turned out to be my greatest pain.

After being gone for about ten minutes, Jesse finally reappeared again, leaning against the wall. Just then, a pretty nurse with a wooden clipboard came out and asked, 'Are you lot here to see Father Dominic?'

I sat up immediately. 'Yes ma'am.'

The nurse glanced back at her clipboard. 'All right, then, you all can go in and see him now.'

I smiled at her and thanked her. Her light brown eyes lit up warmly as she said, 'Tell the good Father congratulations for me. Forty years in the ministry is a long time.'

Okay, so it took a little more convincing. Adam, even though his birthday idea was clever, he forgot one thing. Hospitals keep records. Lots of them. They know your name, social security number, and mother's maiden name. But they don't ask for date of ordination for priests.

Who's the creative one now?

We went down the hallway a ways, until we were at Father D's room. I remembered it from the last time we visited. It was still pure white as ever, and spotlessly clean, just as the pretty nurse's uniform.

Father Dominic looked incredibly weak as he lay limply on the bed. His breath was slow but shallow, almost like a small pant. They had him hooked up to all sorts of crazy monitors that beeped and flashed with each movement he made.

As we came in the door, Father Dominic lifted his hand wearily. His tired voice said softly but enthusiastically, 'Well, hello there! What a surprise, to see you all!' He flashed us a smile; weary but at the same time incredibly bright.

I immediately rushed to his bedside. I could barely stand seeing Father Dom like this. I felt anger – no RAGE. Who would do this to a PRIEST? Or to anyone for that matter?

I think I had an idea of who it was, too. Four extremely possible suspects flew through my mind, which made me even more enraged.

As I looked at Father Dom, I couldn't help but notice how much older he looked now than he ever had. I mean, the rumor going around the Mission was that Father Dom grew more handsome by the decade. It was totally true, too. His pale blue eyes never lost their vibrancy, and his pure white hair was complimented by a healthy, rosy complexion. His face wasn't overrun with liver spots or wrinkles. He was perfect, for an old guy.

But now his blue eyes looked strained and tired, and his white hair only served to make his pale face even paler. The only thing that was the same about Father Dom was his smile, which remained even though he was in visible pain.

'It's so nice to see you all here,' Father Dominic said, adjusting himself so that he was sitting up a little. 'I was quite wondering if you had forgotten about me.'

An unbearable silence followed, each of us afraid to be the bearer of bad news. Father D, after all, had no idea about the discovery. Someone had to tell him. That's why we were here in the first place.

No one stirred. It became quite evident that if I didn't make a move, no one else would. I didn't want to tell him, though. His energy, I believed, should have gone to his rehabilitation, not to worrying. What if it sent him in shock? I wouldn't want the guy to have a spaz attack, now would I?

But I guess if you're going to have one, you might as well have it in the hospital.

It turns out, no one needed to speak up because Father Dom was able to catch on that there was something wrong, just in our silence.

'What's the matter? What happened?'

'We found them, Father D,' I replied solemnly.

'You mean the . . . the-'

'Ghosts. Yeah.'

Father Dom's pale blue eyes scanned the other members of the SIA for answers. Adam looked instantly at the ground, CeeCee bit her lower lip, Dani coughed uncomfortably, and Jack busied himself by trying to get the black scuff marks off the pure white floor by using the rubber soles of his All Stars. I noticed that Jesse and Paul were the only ones that accompanied me at Dommy's bedside; Paul at my left and Jesse at my right.

'I knew it was a matter of time before he would show himself,' Father Dom said.

Oh. I had to be the bearer of bad news . . . again. 'Actually . . . When I said ghosts? I meant that. You know. The "s" thing and all.'

'There are more than one?' rasped Father D.

Jesse shuffled closer. 'I am afraid so, Padre.'

He went a little white. Well, whiter than before. Which was kind of saying something. You know? 'Oh my. How do you suppose we are to deal with this?'

'We were kind of hoping you'd have the answer to that question,' Paul said, sounding unusually uncomfortable.

Father Dom's eyes widened considerably. 'Oh dear . . . oh my.'

Oh my is right.

Well, I was going for "Holy shit," but this guy is kind of blessed. So he has to keep a good profile, as far as profanity goes.

Unless, you know, his computer is malfunctioning.

Whatever.

Father D looked kind of thoughtful, in a shocked way. He kept blinking, which was weird. Probably because he wasn't wearing his glasses, and his eyes probably hurt. His glasses were on the bedside table, and I almost reached over to go get them for him to put on, but I noticed that he wasn't even looking at anyone. More like, at his bed sheets. But you know, past them.

'How many?' he asked after a moment.

'Four,' Paul said curtly. 'Well, according to Suze.'

Yeah, Paul. Say it is if your source is dodgy a little MORE, why don't you?

Honestly.

'Well?' I shifted a little to the right, before realizing that I was getting closer to Jesse, and then promptly moving back. 'What do we do? Can you like, drop God a line, or something, and ask him how the hell we work this out?'

'Susannah,' murmured Jesse in a gentle warning.

I ignored him, keeping my face hard.

Father Dom shook his head. 'I honestly have no idea, Susannah. Are they . . . violent?'

'Yeah,' Paul nodded. 'They've tried to kill Suze twice.'

'Twice?' asked Jesse suddenly, with a frown.

'UMMM,' I said pointedly, 'You mean ONCE, Paul.' I gave a nervous laugh, and a glare, 'That time with the dumbwaiter doesn't COUNT. You know? That was Jack, not me.'

JESSE DID NOT KNOW ABOUT THE DROWNING THING. JESSE WOULD NOT KNOW ABOUT THE DROWNING THING!

ESPECIALLY not about the mouth-to-mouth resuscitation.

Paul gave me a wry smile. 'My mistake.'

. . . Grrr.

'I still advise you not to perform exorcism,' Father Dom instructed with a firmness in his tone.

I rolled my eyes. 'Can't we just – '

'No.'

'But they're – '

'No, Susannah.'

'What if – '

'Suze, shut up,' Paul snapped at me. He looked back to the Good Father, who was looking at me severely. 'Susannah, if you are even considering exorcising these ghosts, please put that idea out of your mind. Have I not taught you mediation skills suitable enough?'

'I'm a shifter,' I corrected him, a little distantly. I crossed my arms. 'Not a mediator.'

Father Dom paused for a moment. 'Beside the point, Susannah. You are NOT to do anything drastic. Paul, please keep her in line?'

'Oh, I will,' the corners of Paul's lips perked up in mirth.

Oh, and if I played up? What would PAUL do? Spank me?

. . . I did not just think that.

Shit, I did.

. . . Eww.

Well, this was kind of a useless conversation. I mean, I already knew that I was forbidden to do exorcism. It was like, taboo. Totally. Not that, you know, anyone could DO anything about it if I did. Honestly, what was so bad? Ghost is dickhead. Suze is pissed. Ghost is bye-bye. End of short, sweet story.

Someone point out what is WRONG with this plan?

No one?

. . . Exactly.

And PAUL was just standing there, acting like EXORCISM wasn't first thing on HIS mind. Of COURSE it was. Seriously, he was acting like this noble saint, or something, whenever he was in front of our old principal. Like he WASN'T contemplating just booting these ghosts to their next plane of existence.

I totally knew he was.

But he obviously liked the fact that Father Dominic seemed to be putting him somewhat in charge.

Father D?

Cool guy.

Holy person.

Baaaaad judge of character.

'Can I have some money?' Jack asked. 'There's a vending machine outside.'

I dug my hand into my pockets.

No coins.

Oh, how embarrassing.

Hang on, oh yeah. I'm poor, aren't I?

Prince Paul fished a dollar bill out of his leather wallet, and Jack snatched it with a hurried "thanks" before hightailing it.

'I'll go with him, and make sure he doesn't get anything too fattening,' Dani said luxuriously, as if she was doing something incredibly admirable. Paul winced a little as she exited the room.

'So, the plan is to, what?' I snapped. 'Sit around, and get our asses kicked?'

'No,' Father Dominic said, sounding really exhausted. As if I was sucking the life out of him. 'You will talk to them. In groups,' he added, sending me a reprimanding glance. 'Susannah, listen to me when I say that now is not the time to attempt any acts of nobility. If these ghosts are well aware of their capability to kill, then you are in danger. But I believe that I am correct in saying you would sooner offer to be crucified in Christ's place, than to move out and not do anything about this.'

I gave him an awkward look.

Um, thanks Father D, for telling everyone about my desire to be a heroine.

I'm sure everyone will just totally forget about that now.

Not.

I should have told him this in confession, and THEN he wouldn't have been able to repeat it in the presence of other peoples. Jeez. Did this dude shut up about how SEE-THROUGH I apparently was?

With a grumpy look in his direction, I muttered, 'Well, I think that we've established our action plan. One which we were going to do anyway. So coming here was a waste of time.'

Father Dom looked a little hurt at that.

I felt a little bad. As if I was making out like coming here just to see him was totally unimportant to me. 'I didn't mean it like that,' I sighed. 'Just . . . you know. Your plan wasn't exactly a revelation.'

Paul looked at his watch. 'It's getting late, Father. We'd better hit the road. And Adam and CeeCee want to stop off at a 24 hour gas station to, you know, get milk and other supplies.'

Namely, liquor. But Father Dom didn't need to know that.

Adam nodded, and wiggled his eyebrows at CeeCee. 'Milk is good.'

'You'd know,' Paul grinned.

. . . Um . . . eww?

The scary thing? I actually GOT that joke.

And Paul being gross?

Yeah. Not exactly my comfort zone.

'Anyway, we're going to go,' Paul shrugged, turning around, and straightening his tie – YES HE WAS BACK IN A SUIT, THE FREAK.

'Wait,' Father Dom said suddenly. 'Susannah . . . stay a moment, might I have a word?'

It seems like everyone would like a word with me nowadays. Only, these words turned out not to be so nice, if you know what I mean.

I groaned. 'But, um, you know, we have to go and all, Father Dom. So maybe later –'

'Nah, Suze, stay,' Paul stated nastily. He was obviously hoping that I'd get scolded some more. Which he was probably right in saying.

But whatever.

So yeah. Everyone conveniently shuffled out of the room, leaving me to Father Dom's heavenly wrath.

Amen.

Father D looked pretty menacing for someone in white hospital blankies. 'Susannah, sit.'

'I'm fine standing – '

'Please, sit,' he ordered, rather than asked.

I grabbed the chair CeeCee formerly occupied and pulled it close to the hospital bed, taking a seat.

Father Dom gave this big sigh. 'Where have you gone?'

I found this to be a slightly perplexing question. 'Um . . . you just told me to sit, and I kind of you know . . . went to the nearest chair, and stuff – '

Maybe I SHOULD have given him his glasses?

'No, Susannah,' he sighed. 'Where has this sixteen year old Susannah gone.'

Oh. Her again.

I regarded aloofly all of a sudden.

'She's dead,' I said shortly. 'Get used to it.'

He sighed, looking kind of sad. 'No, Susannah. She is not. You are not two different people. You are just hiding the vibrancy of your old self, I rather think. Smothering who you could actually be.'

No. No way. He did NOT just say that it was ME who was killing the old Suze.

a) She was DEAD.

And b) I DIDN'T KILL HER.

JESSE DID.

And he claimed that he was no murderer. Maybe not physically. But there were worse things than death. Sometimes, even life could be more of a punishment.

I was living proof.

And the fading bruise on my cheek was evidence.

I didn't say anything to the priest that lay in front of me.

Father . . . why did they call priests of the Catholic Church "Father"? What? Was he suddenly this perfect father-figure that I could go to with all of my problems? Did he think that he had all the answers? The perfect advice for me? My remedy?

I think not.

I stood up. 'No, you mean, who I could have been,' I corrected him.

'No, Susannah,' he said. 'I do not stand corrected. You heard what I said. It is not too late. Nothing is too late. You make it seem like there is no hope for you. I am aware that you are . . . ' he frowned, obviously trying not to say either "depressed" or "a major loser, at the current time," '. . . going through something – ' Nice recovery – 'that is difficult for you. But you are twenty-three years old. You life does not simply end.'

Unless a black, muscly eighteen year old member of the dead offs you.

But you know, what are the odds?

'So?' I said quietly. 'Who cares if it does?'

. . . That wasn't supposed to come out like that . . . I wasn't meant to sound suicidal. I was NOT going to kill myself. Just, you know, really, how much would it affect the world if someone else did it for me?

Not all that much.

Father Dom sighed. He looked even more tired. Weariness of the mind, and spirit. I was testing his faith. 'Susannah . . . life is not some competition that you must undertake in order to get to an award. Life is the award. And frivolous misuse was not God's intent for such a precious gift.'

'DON'T bring that guy into it,' I bit at him. 'I do not misuse life, Father D. I'm just, you know, waiting for it to get a little better before I start smiling a little more.'

'It won't get better if you do not try, Susannah,' he groaned. 'You must put in the effort, to produce a worthy result.'

I think that they'd given him waaaaaay too much morphine.

'What if it's not worth all of the work?' I asked. 'What if I have been working my ass off, trying to make a new life for myself, but it's just not the same?'

Father Dom tried to interject, 'Susannah –'

'You don't understand,' I silenced him by making a swift motion with my hand. 'Father Dom . . . it'll never be the same. Ever again.'

'No, Susannah,' Father Dom said in stern manner that seemed to take a lot of energy from him, 'I think it is you that doesn't understand. These trials, they are only temporary. Just as temporary as life itself. If there is one thing I have learned in my many years, Susannah, is that these things will come to pass in their own time.'

'I used to think so, Father Dom. But now that he's here, I –'

Sometimes, I need to just keep my mouth closed. If not naturally, at least with the aid of heavy-duty duct tape or superglue. Stitches would work, wouldn't it?

I didn't mean to use pronouns. It just slipped out. And now, I was certain, Dommykins knew. About how Jesse being here was really affecting me. I half expected the same speeches Father Dom used to give me in high school, about sexual purity and how it would never work out, and crap.

You know?

Stupid lecture, like "bashing ghosts is wroooong, Susannah."

I did get a speech. But not one I expected. I totally wasn't prepared for it.

'Susannah. I know that when someone leaves, whether it is for a few years or forever, it is still hard to accept. First, you blame it on yourself, and then you place the blame on the other person. The truth is that it is no one's fault, except for maybe time. You just have to realize that even if that person is no longer part of your life, your life is still worth living because it is only what you make of it. You can continue it, making adjustments for a life without that person, or you can hang on it forever and tumble down an emotional mountain. I had to do that, Susannah. I had to move on, just as she had . . . '

Father Dom took a long pause to breathe. He looked even more tired than he did before. It took me a moment to realize who he was talking about. The woman he once loved. Or, should I say, the ghost of the woman he once loved.

Oh, God.

I went very still.

'Oh, Father Dom,' I choked. I gave him a look of pure sympathy, but he just closed his eyes.

'I – I'm very tired, Susannah. I think it is best you go back with the others.'

A small gasp escaped my throat. I suppressed it the best I could, as Father Dom blinked wearily from his bed. He waved his hand to dismiss me, but instead I took it in my own.

His hand was cold. Just as cold as my heart. Father Dom's hand was never cold. He was always supposed to be warm. Why was he cold? Was it because of the things that he was just reliving?

. . . Duh, Suze.

I felt extremely guilty. In my own problems, I had caused Father Dom to look back at painful memories. I felt his pain. His unbearable pain . . .

Father Dominic fell asleep. His breathing became slow and steady, in and out and in and out . . .

And that's when I realized my eyes were wet. Crying, not only because of the guilt, but because Father Dom was right. I needed to move on.

But how did Father Dom manage? He became a priest. And even though his service to the Church had been so faithful, and he had a great many people who respected him . . . he wasn't happy. I knew he wasn't happy.

That optimism, that smile . . . it was his way of coping. He was coping, but deep inside, he could never move on.

Would it be the same for me?

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 8

I was feeling kind of distant as Adam drove me and CeeCee home. Posh and Becks – I mean, Dani and Paul, had taken the Jaguar. Namely Paul's car. Um . . . yeah. Logical, no?

Hmm.

I was kind of dying of gratitude that I wasn't stuck in the same AUTOMOBILE as the Royals. Because, Dani had broken a nail at the hospital. A fake nail. But still, she was going on and on about it. Honestly. She was like, 'I cannot sodding believe it! It was a centimeter long!'

Ugh metric.

To which I replied, incredulously, 'You measure?'

To which she scoffed, 'Why not?'

To which I raised my brows, 'Well, then again, it's not that weird. I'm sure Paul measures. Just, you know, not his nails.'

To which Paul gave me a very frost look, and refused to speak to me.

I muttered something about P.M.S. and he totally tugged Dani out of the hospital entrance, and said to CeeCee that he'd see us back at the school.

So, with Paul and his pre-menstrual stress, and Dani's need for a manicure, I was very glad that I was not sharing a car with them.

You know?

And, yet, I felt so strange as I walked back into the school. As if, in the hospital, I was out in the real world. And back in Fortunaschwein, I was in an alternate reality, again. Part of a video game. Or a plot that had already been written.

It wasn't exactly a feeling that thrilled my pants off.

I certainly hope NOTHING thrilled my pants off.

Ewww.

Whatever. It had been a kind of long night. I mean, yay. Father Dom knew I was depressive because of Jesse. Wow. I'm so happy. Not.

And yeah, I was worried about him too.

Father Dom, I mean. God, not Jesse.

Father D seemed really upset. About, you know, his spectral ex. And I felt so bad about making him remember her. I mean, I knew heartache, of that category, specifically. It didn't tickle. Oooh, no. And the fact that I now definitely knew that Father Dom wasn't this happy, holy homo sapien. He was still grieving over lost love. Love that he knew he'd never find again. That he wouldn't LET himself have, again.

In respect for this girl – no, woman's memory.

And hey, just so he'd REMEMBER that, he went and got himself PRIESTIFIED.

Um, I mean, ordained.

Same thing.

What was eating me was, would I be like that? Would I ever fall in love again? And if I did, would it be any different? Or would it be all the same? Heartbreak, tears, silence, solitude, avoidance, suffering, all over again.

And no one to share it with.

Love was different for everyone.

Just, mine would always be cursed.

Lucky me.

But whatever. I crawled into a change of clothes, namely, pajamas, sparing a thought to who did the washing around here, when I realized I was too tired to think about laundry.

So yeah. With a yawn, I was just tugging my Lycra tank top on, when –

CRASH.

I jumped in alarm, and spun around accusingly, looking for the culprit.

But there was no one there.

This really nice looking terra cotta vase that used to be on the dressing table, where the mirror was, had smashed on the ground. It had been old. Like, antique and stuff.

Now it was in a hundred, thousand pieces at my bare feet.

I looked at it with wide eyes.

. . . Because, what was most disturbing, was the four flowers that were strewn amidst the shards of ceramics.

Four dead flowers.

In fact, they were burnt.

And then I realized.

The Misfortunates were here.

Four burnt flowers? Yeah. Nice one, guys. Okay, yeah, you burnt to death. I got it. Who cares? It's really getting kind of boring n –

Wait.

They had seen me in the nude again.

EWWW.

PERVS!

'Get out!' I snapped, furious. I self-consciously clamped my hands over my chest. Something that had been out in public about five minutes ago.

Oh, Jesus. Eww, eww.

You know how I always feel cold? Well, I didn't then. I felt very hot.

And not in a good way.

I heard soft sniggering, but could see no one. Cowards.

But I kind of guessed that they hadn't exactly left, when the pieces of broken terracotta began to float. The sharps danced around me, circling me, and teasing me.

Laughing at me.

I picked up one of the pillows from the bed where my day clothes were strewn. I held it out in self-defence.

Wow. That'll help, Suze.

'I have a pillow, and I'm not afraid to use it!' I threatened.

Um, yeah Suze. And they had SHARP PIECES OF CLAY.

This was SO not fair.

The pillow was ripped from my very fingers, by an unseen force. I was very offended, with my, 'Hey!' but was kind of, you know, stiff when all of the ceramic pieces zoomed at my FACE.

'Oi!' I yelled, ducking in horror.

When I looked up again, the vase shards weren't floating. They were on the ground. Forming the messy words, "Ha, Ha."

My blood ran cold, as my light switch suddenly flicked off.

'Okay, um, this isn't funny anymore,' I said awkwardly, backing to my bedroom door as I spoke. The darkness that my room had been plunged into was intoxicating. I swallowed a mouthful of nothing, and my throat was sand-dry. 'Not that it was ever, but . . . you know. Because you have a totally gay sense of humour, I hope you realize that. So, I'll let you be funny. Yeah. You can totally trash my room, okay? But I, um, I'm going to get some water, or something. Later, guys – '

As I backed into the door, I grabbed the knob. But, it was locked. Which was kind of strange, because last time I checked, the door didn't HAVE a lock.

You know?

'This is getting old, ladies,' I rolled my eyes.

I twisted the handle some more, getting pissed. This would be fine. Suze? Just your regulation haunting. Nothing to worry about. Meh. They would totally lay off as soon as –

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAH! SHIT!

BLOOD!

I squealed in abstract horror, at the scarlet blood that was splashed heavily on my hands. It was on the door knob too. I jerked away from the door. 'Eww! EWW!' I wiped it madly on my pajama pants . . . it was spreading . . . dark, red, wet, thick . . .

Blood was sadistically emerging across the walls. My heart was in my throat.

Did I mention I have a little thing with BLOOD?

I mean, you know, GREAT AMOUNTS OF IT?

The blood was saying the same thing.

Everywhere.

". . . HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA . . . "

Everywhere.

Over, and over, and over and over again . . .

'This is a joke that I SO don't get,' I yelled, moving away from the walls. There was no Dani to distract them now.

The written laughter was surrounding me, and the redness of the blood seemed horribly dark. The shadows drenched the words, and made everything seem deadly, and consuming. The "Ha Ha's" were drowning me. My throat clenched, and I felt like I was about to swallow my tongue.

Because I couldn't get out of this frigging room.

'Hello? It's called SLEEP-TIME,' I said through gritted teeth. 'Yeah, um, people with a HEARTBEAT need it.'

. . . That was when I heard the sound of gentle sloshing. Like someone was walking through a wading pool, or something.

I stopped, and my heart went kaboom.

I looked down at my feet.

Water.

My room was filled with an inch-deep pool of WATER.

. . . WHAT THE HELL?!

My face went blank. That was when something started swirling from my feet, churning rapidly into the dark, shallow water.

More blood.

My blood, it seemed.

I started breathing faster, and faster, and faster –

THE WATER WAS COMPLETELY RED.

I started shaking. 'Stop it! I'm serious! Look, see my face? Pissed. I am pissed. You've seen this face before, you're seeing it now. I'm PISSED . . . off.'

Seeing that the water – no, the BLOOD, was starting to pour upwards, so it was passing my ANKLES, and there were now WAVES, I desperately ran for the door again.

What? I wasn't going to LET this happen. That DOOR was going to get its SHIT kicked out of it if it DIDN'T HAPPEN.

AND THE DOOR DIDN'T EVEN HAVE SHIT!

I tried the knob again, but, noooo, not blood.

Nah. Just, oh, I dunno, the door handle was FRIGGING SCORCHING.

'Shit!' I withdrew my hand rapidly, as soon as the searing sensation shot up my arm, 'Shit, shit!'

It was burnt, bleeding, blackened, and –

. . . It was normal again. My hand, I mean. All an illusion.

'THIS IS NOT FUNNY!' I snarled. I kicked at the door, but it was too hot.

THEN, THE DAMNED THING BURST INTO FLAMES.

'AAAAAH!' I screamed, and staggered back, splashing in the pool of red.

". . . HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA. . . "

Burning.

This room was on fire.

Smoke gushed into the room, and I began choking. Drowning in blood and smoke.

'STOP IT!'

But they didn't stop. They didn't. My body was soaked in red. I couldn't move. Then, my hand that I was flailing around, was suddenly grabbed by something.

A scorching hand. My arm felt like it had been BRANDED by an IRON. I could see the handprint.

With horrified eyes, I was screaming . . .

' . . . JESSE!"

I swear to GOD, I didn't mean to call him. It came out! I swear, I didn't mean to. He was the LAST person I would call these days.

EVER AGAIN.

Yet, it was his name that I screamed out.

And then, it all stopped.

. . . I was lying on my back, on the floor. The air was clean. The fire was gone. The red blood wasn't there. The burns didn't hurt any longer.

And, oh yeah. Jesse was standing over me, looking down at my expression of raw fear, with his scarred eyebrow quirked. Unsurely, he asked, 'Susannah? Susannah, are you all right?'

IN THE HEAD?

I scrambled up in a wild frenzy, pointing with feral accusation. 'IT WAS RIGHT HERE!' I yelled in fury, panting. 'WHERE DID IT GO?!

'Where did what go?' Jesse asked quietly, his low volume contrasting with my own. He looked around the room with suspicion. Everything was fine. No more blood, no more menacing "HA HA HA HA's."

Nothing.

I glared at my hands. No burns. No bleeding. My clothes were dry, and not a bit stained with red. 'But I – they . . . ' I put my hand on my head, still trying to remember how to breathe properly. 'It seemed so real.'

Illusion.

It had been an illusion.

. . . I'd never seen one that seemed so deadly.

My God. This house – this school, it was under a possession so demonic that the ghosts haunting it could alter reality, perception, sound, sensation, and everything that I thought I knew.

It was terrifying.

I'd never met ghosts with such power.

They weren't ghosts, I concluded. They were frigging POLTERGIESTS.

Their death had been horrifying.

It must have.

'What did, Susannah?' Jesse's voice was pure, curious, and slightly concerned.

Yeah. While my heart was about to blow up, it was pumping so much.

Lots of goo, peoples.

I sat on the end of my bed, in a complete daze. I was shaken up. I licked my lips. They were dry. My whole body was dry. Not saturated.

It hadn't been real.

'Um . . . you know, nothing. Just, uh, the usual. Your regulation haunting,' I laughed nervously. My giggle was thin, and scared, still. 'Sorry I called. You can go now, if you want – '

YOU MOST CERTAINLY CAN NOT.

' – I, um, get freaked out by blood, that's all. Uh, even if the blood doesn't exist,' I babbled, staring at my hands, laughing shrilly still. 'I mean, its kind of gross when you think that it's your blood, and stuff, and you know, dying from blood loss would TOTALLY suck, and I was just, you know, worried because the door was kind of um, on fire, and I – '

My voice crackled, and died.

Oh my God. How embarrassing.

My face was aflame. A cold sweat doused my brows, and my upper lip, and my forehead.

Shut up.

I was freaked, okay?!?

Jesse walked quietly across the still room. He came to a halt when he saw the broken vase. No flowers.

It was the only sign that there had been a disruption in my bedroom.

Not that it was mine. Oh, no. It probably used to belong to one of the Misfortunates themselves.

Haunting hot spot.

'It was them, wasn't it?' Jesse said grimly.

NO SHIT, SHERLOCK.

'Nah, I just looked at the vase, and it blew up, Jesse,' I said with vicious sarcasm.

Jesse blinked down, sighed, and then concentrated on the broken pieces. They levitated, and then all landed in a very neat pile on the dresser, so there were no sharp bits for me to trip on.

'Nifty,' I said, in a strangled voice.

Then he turned back to me, and came to stand over me. I inhaled a deep breath, and held it obstinately. The shadowed realms of his face were intense. Godly. Exquisite. Dark. 'What happened, Susannah?'

I laughed a little. 'That's just it. Nothing happened.'

Illusion.

'You called,' Jesse said shortly. 'Did they appear again?'

'Nope,' I shrugged.

Okay, um, feeling even MORE stupid.

How GAY was this?! SCARED by something that wasn't even THERE.

Jesse took a step closer to me, sitting on the bed. I leant back instinctively, and released the breath that I'd taken hostage before. 'That is all then, Susannah?'

I looked down. No it wasn't. 'Um . . . Jesse?'

I was stampeding all over my dignity and pride as I uttered those words.

Jesse paused, before saying graciously, 'Yes, Susannah?'

'Uh . . . you wouldn't be able to – ' I looked up at him, at his face, so gorgeous, so dead, so noble, so reminiscent. This man broke my heart. ' . . . Never mind.'

I could FEEL him smiling. He was going to make me crawl. 'What is it, Susannah?'

I swallowed. Hard.

'Well, you know, you're probably, you know . . . um, busy . . . doing, er, stuff, and all so nah, you . . . I mean, if you wanted to, or whatever, which you WOULDN'T, I mean . . . I can so handle myself, if I . . . it's just –' I stopped stumbling with my words, and just looked up at him with pleading eyes.

I was begging.

Again.

Oh, God no . . .

'My only business here is to protect the living. It is, after all, my duty,' Jesse said gently.

'Um,' I answered intelligently. 'Cool.'

It was freezing. Yet I felt like I was in a chamber of flames, perishing.

'If, you know, you didn't mind or whatever – '

'It is all right. I shall stay,' Jesse assured me.

I began to say something incoherent, as my cheeks flushed again, when Jesse added, 'To keep watch, Susannah.'

YOU BETTER BELIEVE IT, BUSTER.

'Um . . . good idea,' I smiled weakly. 'Glad you, um, thought of it.' I coughed. 'So, er, I'm going to . . . you know, sleep – '

Jesse held out his hand to me. I stared at him like he was an alien in a fluorescent pink bikini for a second, before accepting it. Darkness. He lightly pulled me to my feet, and smiled down at me, wordlessly.

I just blinked up at him like the loser I was.

A moment. Frozen.

'Goodnight, Susannah,' he whispered.

I couldn't say a word. My heart was in my throat.

After another moment, immobilized by time, Jesse took his hand away. He walked very slowly, and definitely to the window, small though it was.

'If you need me, Susannah, I will be here. By your window,' he told me. 'Like old times.'

Pain. Years of pain.

My face was deadpan. 'Um . . . okay.'

By my window.

Where was he, those years?

He wasn't BY MY WINDOW, THEN.

Daintily, I staggered or hobbled or waddled or something, to my bed, slipping under the covers. Jesse's familiar glow was cast over me.

It took me a while to calm down, and fall asleep. Jesse didn't say a word.

And I think I was already dreaming, by the time I thought I heard someone say, '. . . Querida . . .'

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 8

With love,

Lolly and Hayley.