Dear readers of Flashlight.

Me and Hayley love you.

Hahaha . . . well, here we have it, Cole's finally put to justice. And this chapter has a few little twists that me and Hayles didn't plan either. Muahaha.

Poor Jesse.

Love Lolly (and Hayley who is sick.)

PrettyFeet . . . you really don't have much faith in us, do you?

And Ocean Blue Sky? Me and Hayley thank you for probably the most awesome review we've ever received.

- 8 -

No matter how much preparation you're given before taking the plunge, making an official police statement really is no joke. In fact, it was probably one of the hardest things I'd ever done in my life.

First off they had to send me off to some small clinic to get me all checked out before they had me write my statement. The officer, one of the same ones that was there for Dani's death, assured me that this was standard procedure for victims of sexual assault.

The doctor checked me out. I was fine, except for some bruises, which the doctor said would go away in a week or two. Only, I knew they'd be gone in a matter of days, maybe less, because shifting was also commonly associated with quick healing. But they didn't know that.

I sat on the examination table afterwards, looking around boredly at all the diagrams on the wall of the nervous system, the structure of the human body, and some poster that instructed you how to avoid germs.

Paul was there with me the whole time, except during the examination when they made him wait in the waiting room. It was just as well. The gown they had me in was one of those ugly blue ones with only two strings in the back, which only kept it semi-closed. And it was, like, three sizes too big so it sagged off my shoulder. I had to keep tugging at it to keep it on.

It was kind of weird. They kept poking me and prodding me. They touched my bruises, and asked if they hurt. I had some reflex tests, too. I felt like a science fair project or something.

But it was all over now. Well, sort of.

There was a knock at the door. It was the police officer, Officer Jones, that came in and asked, 'Miss Simon? May I come in?'

'Well I'm, uh, not really dressed yet,' I replied, sort of wrapping the gown as tightly as I could around me.

'That's all right, ma'am. I'll wait until you're ready.'

I put on my clothes, which the nurse had folded up nicely for me and stuck in the corner of the room. I called for him to come in when I was done.

The officer got straight to business when he came in.

'Now, as an American, Miss Simon, you have a right to draw up an official statement against Mr. Kennedy, if you so choose. You don't have to, but it would sure help get him where he belongs,' Officer Jones said. 'No pressure or nothing.'

Yeah, no pressure, all right. On one hand, I could put Cole in jail for good. But then, what if he got out on probation or, God forbid good behavior? What would keep him from attacking me again? Or any other poor girl he got an obsession with?

'I don't really know what to say,' I replied, looking off distractedly at one of the medical posters. 'I mean, I've never done a statement before. I'm not even sure how they work.'

Officer Jones took off his hat and took a step closer. 'It's all right. It's your decision whether or not you want to go ahead and make a statement or not. I just want you to know, ma'am, that you have the right to have a voice. You can stop this guy. All we need is your word. Your story.'

All I truly wanted was to stop Cole from ever doing this again. To me, or to any other woman. But I was still a little unsure of myself. I'm not necessarily a great storyteller or anything. What if it came out all wrong?

But in the end I said I'd do it. Under certain conditions, of course.

'Can I bring someone with me? Like, you know, for support?' I asked.

'Yes, you are entitled to have one support person in the interview,' the officer answered. 'You can even have a lawyer present, if you wish.'

Wow. I'm killing two birds with one stone, here. Because guess who I wanted to come with me?

You got it. Paul.

I figured not only would he know what was going on, but I also felt comforted knowing that he'd be there.

'All right,' I said, with more confidence than ever. 'I'll do it.'

8 –

Making a Statement to the Police:

The statement you are about to make is an important part of the process of justice. The police will use it to determine whether a crime was committed, if conviction is likely, and what measures to take in order to prevent further crimes.

Your statement may also be a part of the evidence presented in court by the defense and/or the prosecution. You may also, at one point, be called as a witness in court.

Remember that your statement is very important to the police, for they are trying to collect as much evidence of a possible crime that they can. The police, in no way, have any intentions of being obstructive to you.

You may make your statement whenever you are ready. If you decide now is not the time, you may come in later. However, it may be wise to do it now for the sake of remembrance.

But you don't have to, essentially. That's what they're saying.

Whether I wanted to or not, I still felt a sort of obligation to do it. The brochure went on and on about how it was my choice, my right, and how I didn't have to if I didn't want to. No pressure, right?

Wrong. Placing the decision up to me was, ultimately, giving more responsibility than I wanted. It'd be one thing if I was forced to do it. I may not have liked it, but I'd do it because I had to. But since I had the choice, it was easier said than done.

I did it, though. And I must say, I was mighty proud of myself, too.

It was a crazy process. They had me in this room with all these people in there. It almost made me nervous, until Paul made them all introduce themselves and tell them what they did and why they were there.

All I had to do was talk. Sit there and talk, while these people listened. Someone typed up what I said, word for word. Another was operating the tape recorder. And yet another was pointing a small camera at me.

I just talked. I had to tell them the whole story, how I met Cole and when, exactly, our relationship but the dust. I recounted several incidents when he'd gone off the deep end and hit me. I even pulled out my cell phone and read a few of the messaged he'd sent me.

Of course then they took my cell phone away. They needed it for evidence. Paul made them give me some sort of reimbursement for it, in the form of some cash so I could get a new one.

I didn't even know any of this was possible. Leave it to Paul to navigate the system.

But during the statement, they asked questions. Hard ones, easy ones, emotional ones, technical ones. How many times had he hit me in the past? How often did he pay visits to my apartment after we'd broken up? On what days, usually, did he come and harass me at work?

I got through the interview without showing a single emotion. I didn't laugh, I didn't cry . . . I wasn't even angry. It was like I was on auto pilot or something. I couldn't feel anything, I was so detached.

I was telling a story. Someone else's, perhaps not even my own.

But it was MINE.

Only sign the statement when you have carefully read over it. Signing it means that you agree that the content is a fair and accurate account of what happened and the knowledge you have of that which will be investigated. If you are not happy with your statement in any way, a new one will be drafted. If you would like to make any changes at a later date, a new statement will be written.

When you are pleased with the contents of the statement, sign it at the bottom of EVERY page. On the last page sign immediately below the last line of your statement; this is very important. This is to ensure that nothing can be added to your statement illegally.

Nervously, I put my name on every piece of it I could. Of course, I read over it carefully, and I let Paul read over it too. He seemed just as satisfied with it as I did. A little mad when he actually read what had gone on, but satisfied all the same. When it came to the last page, I signed my name, which sealed the deal. It put an end to Cole and to my troubles. For now, at least.

Susannah Simon

Who knew that my name could be that important?

Who knew that Susannah Simon could stop Cole Kennedy, all by herself?

I sure didn't, at first. But now I know that I can.

8 -

As I got out of the car, I looked with glazed eyes at Cole's car, which was still sitting there. It was caked with dirt around the tire panels, and looked like a real pile of crap. In comparison to Paul's Jaguar, it looked really really bad.

Wow. I couldn't believe that I'd even attracted a guy like Cole.

Then again, I couldn't believe I'd attracted a guy like PAUL.

'Are you okay?' Paul asked for the millionth time. I guess it must have been weird - me just randomly stopping in mid-step, to stare at the transportation of Mr Kennedy. 'Yeah,' I said quickly, trying to shake away the thought about how screwed I would have been if he had have gotten me in that car, while I was almost unconscious. Screwed literally and figuratively. 'I'm . . . fine.'

He walked by my side up the long gravel drive to the school. I saw that his eyes were narrowed dangerously. God, what was his deal NOW?

'What?' I asked in slight annoyance.

'Nothing,' he said in a snappish way. 'I'm just gonna – ' I looked down, and saw that his fists were tightly balled. Uhhhh . . . okay, please don't chuck a Cole, I don't know if I could deal.

Once we were in the entrance of the school, he slammed the front door, and the words he yelled made me knew that trouble was brewing.

'DE SILVA!'

It certainly wasn't "Jesse, you've got some 'splainin' to doo!"

I stared at him as he shouted at the roof, looking around for the ghost in question.

With a cascade of gentle light, Jesse appeared beside me.

'What?' he asked boredly when he saw Paul. 'Where were the both of you? I came back, but you were gone, Susannah.'

'Yeah, something kind of bad happ – '

But Paul wouldn't let me get a word in. He was already staring Jesse down. 'I thought I made myself clear for you to watch her,' Paul said in a cold, acidic tone.

Jesse, looking curious, a little surprised, and kind of condescending, raised an eyebrow.

'I know what you said,' he replied. 'Not that I hold words from your mouth in my highest regard, but I would have watched her without your direction, Slater,' he said.

'Paul,' I shook me head, 'He didn't r – '

'So,' Paul now had a kind of give-me-one-reason-and-I-swear-I-will look in his eyes, 'Why weren't you looking after her then?'

'I believe I was, until Padre called,' Jesse said a little defensively. 'I sent her outside so she would stay out of harm's way – '

'From the Misfortunates,' Paul finished for him, an angry smile appearing across his lips.

Jesse nodded curtly. 'Yes. Now please get to your point, for I believe you have one – '

'Suze wasn't out of harm's way,' Paul took a large step up to Jesse, so they were a foot apart. 'She almost got killed, you – '

Jesse's eyes bugged. 'Susannah?' he turned to me quickly, 'What happened? Did you have an accident?'

Yeah, Jesse, I peed my pants.

'Paul,' I said again warningly, 'This isn't necessary – '

'No, she did NOT almost have an accident,' Paul's voice rose, 'There was nothing accidental ABOUT Suze almost getting sexually assaulted, RICO.'

Jesse's mouth fell open. 'Nombre de Dios . . . I - what happened - !'

'YOU did,' Paul said, giving Jesse a very hard shove. 'Yesterday you gave ME shit about not being able to protect Suze from four very aggressive ghosts. And yet YOU couldn't even protect her from a member of the living! You stuck her on the outside of the school, you idiot! Didn't you even THINK of what could come from anything BEYOND Fortunaschwein? Cole Kennedy, for instance.'

Jesse stumbled briefly, still employing an alarmed look. 'Are you all right Susannah?' he asked in slight panic.

'Yeah – '

'No thanks to you,' Paul again shoved him, this time a lot harder so Jesse actually DID fall. 'Some friend YOU are to her - she was very nearly murdered because of you!'

Jesse dematerialized and reappeared behind Paul, shoving HIM forward. 'Icierra el pico. Mind what you say, Slater,' he said in a very harsh voice, 'You have no concept of friendship, and I didn't realize – '

'You're USELESS,' Paul, who'd spun around, yelled in his face, 'You're a dead cowboy who can't do anything right! Look what you did to her! Look what you ALMOST did to her today!'

'Did to her - ?'

I knew exactly what Paul meant. I knew what Jesse had done to me, but that was in the past.

Jesse's eyes flashed with a white hot rage.

'Yeah,' Paul provoked, smiling a dangerous, goading smile, 'You don't even BELONG here de Silva, and even though you ARE here, you still can't do anything. You love her, do you? That's a great way to show love to your QUERIDA - almost get her killed – '

Jesse's fist came out of no where, I swear. And so did Paul's, in total hate and retaliation.

'Hey!' I yelled, but neither had heard, or cared. Jesse had grabbed Paul's shoulder, and was punching him in the stomach. Paul swung his arm up and he knocked Jesse on the side of the head.

'Stop it!' I shouted, because you know, this REALLY wasn't appreciated seeing as earlier I'd been victim of acts of violence MYSELF, and seeing it again was just a wee bit DISTRESSING, YOU KNOW?

I swear, if I have to do another statement, I'm going to FREAK.

Paul, half grinning, kicked Jesse's shin, resulting in Jesse pummeling him, before shoving him against the entrance door by his shoulders.

God, this SUCKED.

'If you don't stop it, I'll – ' I went to threaten ferociously, but neither of them were paying any attention to me.

I realized then and there that Paul and Jesse had been wanting to do this for a LONG time. This was just their first good excuse to. Too long had they been working "side by side." This is how they REALLY felt about each other.

Paul kneed upwards, catching Jesse's . . . uhhh . . . well, it was a good thing Jesse was dead and wasn't able to have children already, or he probably would have been undergoing some serious infertility.

Jesse groaned, 'Vaya al infierno,' and punched Paul's jaw in fury, and Paul jammed his foot down on Jesse's, making said ghost spring back.

It was horrible. This was even worse than that time in my bedroom. I mean, they were angrier here . . . a lot angrier. AND I DIDN'T HAVE A FIRE EXTINGUISHER!

It's a wonder the school didn't get closed down sooner for not having easily accessible extinguishers. It had to be violating a zillion school safety codes right there.

And, you know four boys ended up dying. You can't overlook that.

But for this little fight, only one man could possibly end up in a similar situation. Jesse doesn't seem capable of killing a fly, much less a person. Unless that person happens to be Paul Slater. Something had to be done.

'Come on, STOP IT!' I snapped, moving closer to the both of them nervously. I mean, I didn't want to exactly leap into the fray or anything.

I tried to grab Paul's fist as he was about to aim an extra heavy punch at Jesse, but tripped over my own feet and instead fell target to a very hard blow.

My shoulder immediately seized up in pain, and I fell down.

Paul stopped instantly, pale. 'I didn't - Suze, why'd you – '

'Look what you did!' Jesse yelled, kneeling down to me.

I gripped my shoulder. If I thought COLE punched hard, I really had no idea. I mean, Cole's strong, but he's got nothing on Paul.

'Ow,' I said, wincing. 'I told you to stop it, but did you? No! The pair of you both SUCK.'

'Suze –' Paul started, but I flashed him a nasty look, 'Shut up.'

Jesse went to help me stand, but angrily, I shoved him off. 'JUST GO AWAY.'

Both of them were being big babies about the whole thing. I mean, they kept hitting and blaming stuff on each other . . . it wasn't anyone's fault. Jesse was needed elsewhere. How could he possibly think to protect me from Cole, who he only just heard about? And if Paul thought it was too dangerous, he just shouldn't have gone to Dani's autopsy thingie.

Then again, Jesse didn't give Paul enough credit. I mean, Paul was the one who spent the whole afternoon listening to my statement and making sure every legal tidbit was taken care of in the process.

I shouldn't have sympathy for any of them. Them tearing each other apart was tearing me apart. How in the hell did they expect me to choose sides?

I stormed away from the pair of them furiously, and as soon as they were both out of sight, I had to fight to not cry. I know, I'm a gay assed freak, but . . . well, COLE had been very violent like that, and seeing the both of them reenact that right in front of me was just not cool. I'd go as far as to call it insensitive.

Paul and I had picked up a pizza in Gilroy for lunch, so I wasn't exactly hungry. The police thing had been long and grueling. My statement was as true as I could remember it. Paul had been there the whole time. For me.

Ha.

I sighed, and turned around to see Bart standing there, looking a little lost.

'That man almost killed you,' he said bluntly.

'You don't say.'

He shook his head a little, and brushed little blond locks out of his eyes. Pity ghosts can't get haircuts. 'I'm sorry.'

I smiled kind of bitterly. 'Yeah, you are, aren't you.'

He nodded. 'I know,' he said. 'Especially about Robin . . . but you know I can't control him.'

Maybe you should LEARN then. You haven't exactly got anything to LOSE, RIGHT?

I shrugged. 'That's nice.'

'What's wrong?' he asked, noting my sarcasm.

I glared. 'I'm just not in the mood for any of our woman-to-woman chats now, okay?'

He took offense to that. 'Hey, I get enough of that from the other guys, okay? I REALLY don't need you too. I thought you were alright, Susie, but if you're going to be – '

'I'm sorry,' I said tiredly, 'I'm just REALLY not feeling too hot. So does this little encounter have a point?'

Looking a little miffed, he pursed his lips. 'I just wanted to tell you something,' he said.

' . . . Well . . . ?' I prompted.

'That before I died, I was one too,' he replied.

Okay, my shoulder was REALLY hurting, and I was really wanting to get to the kitchen so I could get Tylenol-happy.

Sue me if I didn't like him being cryptic.

'You were what? A woman?' I asked.

'No,' he shook his head in frustration. 'One of you.'

'You were a Suze Simon.'

'No, a . . . a shifter, or whatever it is you call us.'

I stopped dead. 'Hang on - WHAT?'

WHAT THE HELL?

I . . . he . . . but, he couldn't, not little Bartie-boy-

He looked solemn. 'I was forever running around the school, shooing away ghosts and getting into trouble with it. I was late to class all the time. I even got caught by my principal fighting of a gh – '

'You were a shifter, and you thought that NOW was a good time to tell me!' I shrilled at him, 'Why didn't you mention this earlier, Bart?'

He shrugged. 'You didn't ask.'

'Oh yeah,' I snapped, 'Because I'm so likely to pass around a survey to all the ghosts that I meet. "If you were a shifter or born as any other type of paranormal freak, please check the box below." '

'It doesn't matter,' he looked taken aback. 'I just . . . thought it might make you feel better.'

'How'd you figure that?' I said a little harshly. 'Now I have to feel sorry that YOU got stuck with the same curse as me. That's twice as much sympathy. Is there any relevance to your being a shifter at all?'

'Sorry,' he looked quite regretful that he'd told me, 'I thought you might like to know . . . sorry, I'll go – '

Before I could reign in the bitch-with-horns and say that I was sorry for venting, he dematerialized. I slid my hand through my hair, and realized how much my shoulder was now hurting. A steady ache thudded in my arm.

God, I wished Jack was still here. We could make sundaes together and forget about all of our troubles.

Wearily, I made it to the kitchen, and sat on the counter top, next to the series of fridges along the wall. What? It was a big school, hence, a lot of mouths to feed, and a lot of refrigeration required.

I sucked in a low, long breath, held it, and then let it go. Once again, I felt on the verge of breaking down. This was all wearing me out, and taking its toll on me.

'Susannah?'

I looked up, and Jesse was standing there, looking concerned. Instantly, he moved in on my shoulder, lifting my sleeve up. 'It's swelling,' he reported.

'Look at it go,' I cheered lamely at the red fatness.

'That sinvergüenza,' he cursed under his breath.

'Shut up,' I said. 'You were fighting too, okay? So just shut up. And he's right . . . you shouldn't have left. I mean, at least not for that long . . . '

'I truly am sorry,' Jesse bowed his head, and then looked back to my shoulder. 'You need ice on that.'

'Oh, we've moved on from putting butter on my wounds, have we?' I said with a little more sarcasm than necessary.

Jesse realized that he was not in my good books. 'Butter is for burns,' he said a little matter-of-factly. 'Susannah, please . . . I'm more sorry than I can say.'

'That I almost died,' I said. 'But then, I almost die everyday. So it's nothing new.'

He opened the freezer ala ghostiness, and instantly a packet of peas zoomed out menacingly, before flattening itself against my shoulder. I flinched slightly at the stark coldness, but closed my eyes.

Jesse had finally embraced the art of modern medicine. I'm so very proud. Whoo hoo.

'So,' I said, 'what was so very important that Father D needed to tell you?'

Jesse was still holding the peas against my arm, just by staring at them. 'He wanted to ask about Danielle, and how her death was affecting the SIA,' he said solemnly. 'I told him that Jack left this morning. He agreed that that was probably for the best. He had a particular interest in asking after you and Slater,' his eyes darkened. 'Why is that?'

I managed to hide a gross blush. 'No idea.'

Dismissing the notion immediately, Jesse went on. 'We talked a while . . . he told me that the funding for his operation had been sent. He was not aware how.'

'Paul,' I said.

'Scusi?'

'Paul paid for it,' I repeated.

Jesse made a small noise, but didn't comment.

'What?' I raised my eyebrows.

'I just . . . doubt his intentions,' Jesse chose his words after a moment.

'His intentions?' I frowned.

Jesse's gaze intensified. 'Paul Slater is not a good man,' he said. 'Surely you are well aware of that, Susannah.'

I don't get why Jesse was so hot and bothered. What did Jesse want from him anyway? A freaking Nobel Peace Prize? Or what? For him to join the Peace Corps?

'He's not as evil these days,' I said in subtle defense. 'He's paying for Father Dominic because I asked him to.'

'See?' Jesse said with mild triumph.

'What am I seeing?'

YOU SEE NOTHING, SUZE! AND WHEN YOU DO, YOU HIDE FROM IT.

'That he – '

'Don't even say that, please,' I said a little rudely. 'His girlfriend just died, Jesse. She was murdered. And I'd expect you of all people to be capable of a little compassion, okay? As opposed to the pair of you going around decking each other like he just went too far with a "yo mama" joke or something.'

'A . . . yo mah-mah joke?'

'You know? "Yo mama's so fat that when she hops on the scales it says to be continued." Oh right . . . you probably haven't heard one.'

Jesse blinked. 'I see,' he said.

'Why'd you fight him back?' I asked. 'You let him get to you. He did that on purpose.'

Jesse glared at my arm, and the peas suddenly pressed very hard against my skin. 'Ow!' I recoiled, and they slid to the floor.

He didn't have to take it out on ME!

'Sorry,' Jesse apologized, 'I . . . I got mad.'

'I can tell,' I snapped. I saw a couple of peas trickling across the floor in frozen animation. 'Hey, Jesse. You pea-d on the floor.'

He looked down, confused. 'I . . . sorry?'

I shook my head. Jesse never seemed to get my modernized humor. 'Don't mind me, I'm being an ass.'

He didn't reply to that. He levitated the peas and again, held them more gently against my shoulder. 'You must know that there is no love lost between Slater and myself, Susannah,' he said. 'I retaliated because he was insulting my intentions towards you.'

'God, what is it with guys and intentions?' I rolled my eyes. 'I mean, my intentions of a day are "don't get yourself killed" and "try not to embarrass yourself too much." Why do guys have to have complicated ones, frequently involving me, according to you?'

Jesse smiled slightly, staring at me. His eyes were dark with a light amusement. And he didn't even have the decency to respond. Instead, still smiling, now a little more mournfully than before, he brushed the back of his hand across my cheek.

'Jesse,' I said in a low tone of warning, 'Don't.'

Suddenly, he stopped smiling. 'What is that?' he asked sharply, moving so he could see my cheek better.

'Uh, Cole's not a very nice ducky,' I said. 'He's a pretty evil ducky when he wants to be, actually.'

'He hit you?'

'Only repeatedly,' I said. 'It doesn't matter anymore, though . . . he's not going to hurt me anymore.'

That's what Paul promised me, anyway.

Jesse's eyes blazed, as he glared at what must have been a hideous lookin' bruise blossoming happily on my cheekbone.

'Susannah,' Jesse said sadly.

I sighed. 'I'm fine,' I said. 'I mean . . . nothing happened. He didn't – I mean, he almost d – but he didn't, and that's all that counts. I'm okay.'

'You're cold,' Jesse said.

I looked down, and saw that an eruption of goosebumps had appeared across my skin. A reaction to the very THOUGHT of what Cole had almost done to me.

Of how far I knew he was about to go.

I knew it as soon as I saw him, and even more so when he had his hand against that part of me, applying enough pressure to terrify me beyond reason.

'Not really,' I shrugged a moment later, as the little bumps all over my body faded.

I saw that Jesse's expression was less than cheerful.

'It's okay,' I said. 'I mean, it's not your fault. What almost happened, I mean.'

'I'm sorry,' he said again, sliding his hand casually into mine. He ran his thumb over the top, and just kept staring at me. Like I was the Mona Lisa, and he was trying to figure out why I didn't have eyebrows, or something.

Yay.

'Don't worry,' I stressed to him. God, if HE dwelled on it, I sure as hell was going to. And it was hard as it was, trying not to fall apart there.

I tugged my hand from his and coughed gently.

'Should Adam and CeeCee not be back by now?' Jesse questioned, changing the subject. 'They left early this morning . . . the car trip is not a long one, and so one would think they'd be back.'

'Maybe they crashed into a ditch and they all died,' I suggested. 'Because that's what the SIA's about, right? Death? I mean, first you. Then Dani.'

'Susannah,' Jesse said in slight shock, 'That's not – '

'Kidding,' I muttered, sighing. 'But you're right. They should have been back eons ago. You can't go . . . check on them, can you?'

Jesse shrugged, and dematerialized. The peas slid off. A moment later, he reappeared in front of me. 'They're driving back,' he informed me. 'I believe that they are not dead. And Jack is not present in the car.'

'So they've either dropped him off in Carmel of have sold him to Columbian drug lords for E,' I concluded. 'I'm going with the latter, since it's Adam we're talking about.'

Jesse shook his head at it. 'It is a rare day, Susannah Simon, that I understand a word that comes from your lips.'

I smiled a little.

'That's comforting.'

Again, he just smiled at me. His eyes looked softer than I'd seen them in a while. They were tainted with a pain that I knew I was responsible for. Oh well . . . it couldn't be helped, now. Not unless I lied to him to make that pain go away . . .

'Why is it that the Misforts never come on this floor, pretty much?' I asked. 'I mean, like, they pretty much stay in the attic. Why?'

'Surely you must know that a ghost generally sticks to where he or she died,' Jesse said, 'Even I have the longing to go back to your bedroom sometimes. At night I do . . . for a few seconds. Then I come back here.'

'Okay,' I said. 'Just wondering.'

Jesse bowed his head again, before grinning back up at me.

'What?' I asked. 'What's funny?'

'Just recalling,' he said, 'The time when I found you in David's bed armed with an axe.'

'Shut up.'

'And a mace – '

I blushed feebly, and Jesse chuckled. 'I don't believe I've ever laughed so hard, querida.'

Don't call me that . . . for your sake, Jesse.

I smiled awkwardly. 'It's your fault for having an illiterate homicidal ex-fiancé who wanted me dead,' I told him. 'So there, cop that, vaquero.'

His smile faltered. 'Now Susannah, that was uncalled for.'

I tossed my head. 'I fight dirty.' Then I added, 'Cadaver breath.'

Jesse laughed. 'Need I remind you of your vampire slaying incompetence?'

I sniffed in indignation. 'That was uncalled for.'

'Those were our days,' Jesse said. 'They always will be our days.'

'Yeah,' I agreed. 'I was so young and stupid. Now I'm . . . well, still stupid, just a bit older.'

'Couldn't agree more,' he grinned.

'You weren't supposed to,' I pointed out.

'Hmmmm,' he smiled. I looked down and was shocked to find that both of my hands were in his. When had they gotten there?

And he was standing like, right in front of my knees now. He was close to me. When did THAT happen?

I miss so much, I swear.

Then all of a sudden, he jerked back, looking away.

'I'm sorry,' he rushed to say, 'lo siento, lo siento –'

'Huh?' I was confused.

He looked back up at me, with difficulty. 'I can't trust myself to be with you, Susannah,' he told me.

'Why not?' Uh, this was weird. What? Did he get mad impulses to kill me too?

Join the club.

'Because,' he said with some reluctance, 'When I'm with you, Susannah, all I ever want to do is kiss you.'

I swallowed. 'Oh.'

Again, he looked away, running his hand through his hair. 'I'm sorry – '

'Uh, it's, um, okay,' I shrugged. Was it?

This was really weird.

'Why?' I gave him a strange look. It's just ME, after all.

'I don't believe I need to spell it out for you,' he told me. 'You and I already know why.'

Oh. Yeah. That.

I sighed, not really knowing what to say. I slid down from the bench top, picked up the peas, and put them back in the freezer. Jesse was still standing about a meter away from me, not daring to move an inch closer. His honour wouldn't allow it.

Although a second later, he'd told his honour to get screwed, because all of a sudden, he was standing right in front of me, a new look in his eyes now. It was both soulful and urgent, tainted with an ancient sentiment. I could actually feel him breathing. He didn't even NEED to breathe. He was dead. But he was breathing like any heart-beat owner would be doing, right there and then. Except Jesse's breathing was extremely breathy. And kind of ragged.

'Please,' he said in a voice that pleaded with me till the ends of time, 'One kiss, Susannah . . .'

This was really random.

I looked up at him, totally gobsmacked. 'Uh – '

Noticing that look in his eyes, however, I didn't think I could say no. Not to him, not then.

One kiss. It didn't mean anything. At least, not to me.

Why did he want it though? Was it going to give him like, high hopes about me? Because they'd definitely be in vain.

So, with me backed against the fridge, I closed my eyes, and moved my head forward. When his lips touched mine, it meant nothing. I mean, it felt nice. Sure. Don't all of Jesse's kisses feel nice? They're amazing. He was so soft and gentle in his affection. His hands were holding my shoulders, one of them mindful that one of my shoulders was still swollen, and taking that into account by holding it more loosely. Said hand then slid up my neck, till it caressed my face ardently. I could feel him breathing on my face. His nose was touching mine.

And all I could damned well think about was a certain lawyer who I would have done anything to have been doing this with.

With as much gentleness as it's beginning, Jesse ended his kiss by pulling his lips away from mine. He hovered over my mouth for a second, leaning his forehead against mine, breathing hard. I was too. My eyelashes fluttered open very slowly, and I looked up at him.

'Dios, usted es tan hermoso . . . ' he said in a long breath out.

My face felt numb. And most definitely my lips. I had deep regrets from consenting to that. I should not have done that.

After perpetuity, he asked against my cheek, 'Nothing, querida?'

I blinked. 'I'm really sorry,' I said. 'Maybe I'm a lesbian.'

In spite of himself, he laughed. But he stopped pretty quickly, and slowly pulled away from me, sliding his hands down my arms, till they reached my hands, before dropping them. 'I cannot believe I actually did that,' he said with some surprise. 'I'm sorry for offending you, but I . . . I had to know, Susannah.'

He sounded so, so sad.

'Now I do.'

'You're a really good kisser,' I said.

What the HELL? Suze, be TACTFUL? He's just established that you're definitely not in love with him, you could be a LITTLE more supportive, you loser.

He smiled with embarrassment. 'I doubt that'll get me far,' he said. 'I'm sorry, Susannah, again. I don't know what came over me – '

'It's okay,' I said quickly. 'Just, it can't happen again.'

He gazed at me with increasing dejection. 'Si, si, I know, it won't – '

'SUZE? IS ANYONE HERE, EVEN?'

Both of us looked at the kitchen door quickly, at the sound of Adam's voice. I could hear rather hysterical laughing.

'Uh,' I said, 'I think CeeCee and Adam are back.'

Jesse nodded vaguely, looking absent and low, and dematerialized.

Pulling myself together, I jogged out the kitchen to the entrance of the school, where CeeCee and Adam were literally cracking up with laughter. Adam was twirling CeeCee around in the air, holding her around the waist.

What's the joke?

At the first sight of me, CeeCee screamed in thrill and Adam's hands loosened till she slid back to her feet. 'SUZE! What's my name?'

. . . Um.

'CeeCee?' I said uncertainly, due to being in the presence of insanity.

'No, my WHOLE name!'

'CeeCee Webb.'

'WRONG!' she erupted into another fit of giggles.

. . . No way . . . no freaking way . . .

'You're joking,' I said. 'Are you JOKING?'

Both of them cracked up laughing again.

'Presenting,' Adam said brightly, 'Mr and Mrs Adam McTavish. We wanted to be Mr and Mrs Smith, but Brad Pitt and Angelina Jolie took it already. There's something to be said for being assassins though – '

'YOU GOT MARRIED?' I exploded, 'WHEN?'

CeeCee, trying not to pass out from giggling so much, explained how they'd ducked into a registry office on their way back. And that was that. They were bound in unholy matrimony.

'Father Dom's going to crucify you,' I said in awe. 'But – YOU'RE MARRIED! OH MY GOD!'

The three of us started laughing and screaming – although Adam will deny screaming, saying he is too manly to emit such feminine sounds – and dancing around.

MY FREAKING BEST FRIENDS JUST GOT FREAKING HITCHED.

'I LOVE you guys!' I squealed, hugging them both blissfully. 'Are you going to have another wedding?'

'Of course,' CeeCee tried to calm herself down. Her hands were shaking she was so excited. Her face was beaming, like the sun itself. She was so, so happy.

While Jesse de Silva was so, so sad.

'With the whole enchilada,' Adam went on, his arms around CeeCee's waist, 'Only the best for my . . . my wife. God damn it, that sounds good,' he added, his eyes narrowed comically. 'CeeCee McTavish. My wife. Love of my life.'

I clapped my hand to my mouth to try and stop myself from my ecstatic hysteria. I madly kissed Adam on the cheek and then CeeCee, and then hugged both of them again. 'Where the hell did this come from?'

A pang of nervousness struck up in Adam's eyes. 'Well frankly,' he said, 'My wife and I were scared shitless. And I was all, "CeeCee, my raspberry poptart, my enchanted honeybee, my Venus di Milo with arms, I shall have your hand in marriage before the day is done or my penis is not 17 inches!" And considering it's not, I was a bit worried – '

'This morning, he told me he wanted to do it today,' CeeCee explained, trying and failing to hold back her sunny smile, 'And so we did.'

'In the eyes of God, we're not technically married,' Adam shrugged, 'But then again, I am God. A bed god, so I deem us husband and wife. Although I'm willing to be a bigot if you want to join our happy relationship, Suze,' Adam nodded curtly. 'That will involve many exciting adventures in the bedroom for the three of us – '

CeeCee cracked up all over again. 'I can't believe this,' she shook her hair, laughing her albino ass off, 'Oh my God, we actually went through with it – '

'Mr and Mrs McTavish,' I said to myself. 'Wow, guys. Wow. Wow, wow, wow. And I'd better make a freakin' bridesmaid at the wedding or God help you – '

'But we got the Best Man penguin suit picked out for you already,' Adam looked appalled.

CeeCee hugged me tightly. 'You're my best friend, Suze. You're the freakin' Maid of HONOUR, hello?'

'Well, I was going for that,' I smirked. 'I can't BELIEVE you got MARRIED – '

'Neither can I,' CeeCee giggled. 'Oooh, look at my ring!'

She held up her hand.

' . . . It's candy,' I said slowly, to which CeeCee started giggling even harder. Adam proudly held up his matching candy ring. It was a gummy looking pink lolly with swirls of lime green through it. Adam grabbed a whole packet of them out of his pocket and popped a couple in his mouth, before handing some to me. 'No artificial colours, flavours, or preservatives,' he read off the bag.

I just shook my head at the two of them. They both looked so happy. So truly happy. Then, Adam wiggled his eyebrows at me. 'Don't mind us,' he said, before chucking another candy ring in his mouth, yanking CeeCee to face him so forcefully that she squeaked in shock, and kissing her.

Lots and lots of tongue.

. . . Eww.

Apparently CeeCee was trying to get the candy in her mouth.

. . . Uh, nice.

'Get a room,' I scowled at the pair of them humorously.

Ha, I wonder how quickly the spirits would descend if I told them my little catastrophe with Mr Kennedy today?

That's information that's best left unsaid.

'Mum's gonna kill me,' Adam said. 'She didn't even know I was engaged.'

'Neither,' CeeCee said. 'Mr Adam McTavish . . . '

'Mrs CeeCee McTavish,' Adam replied in fake seduction, squeezing her butt. 'Your ass is officially my property, Cob-Webb. I may do with it as I please.'

'Same goes for your dick,' CeeCee smiled giddily.

'If only you had one,' I said teasingly to Adam.

In affront, he demanded, 'DO YOU WANT PROOF OF ITS EXISTENCE, SIMON?'

'Um. No.'

Sigh.

And, so. My two besties had said "I do."

I couldn't have been happier for them. Although, when the adrenaline from their big news wore off, I knew very well how low my mood was going to go again. But that wasn't now. Now, I was relishing in the fact that Adam and CeeCee were wedded.

So shut up.

- 8 -

You know what I was starting to hate even more than crying?

Shivering.

Which is saying something. I loathe crying with every fibre of my being. But since two nights ago, I don't think I've ever shivered more in my life.

There I was, at 3am, sleepless in Father Dom's car. I was shivering like mad. It was so damned cold, and the quilt that I had felt like nothing.

After I'd found out about Cee and Adam, things had gone downhill once again. Paul wasn't talking to me and was avoiding me at all costs, AGAIN. Despite what I'd been through that morning. Jesse wasn't anywhere, so I couldn't talk to him about that kiss. I'd made my point loud and clear, but still . . .

I hadn't taken anything to help me sleep tonight, and I was now severely regretting it. I mean, last night, I'd been terrified of the fact that a fellow member of my Supernatural Investigations Agency had been killed. Now, I was - DON'T LAUGH.

But I was terrified of Cole.

Which didn't make ANY SENSE, I realize this perfectly. Seeing as he was all locked away, so he couldn't try to hurt me anymore.

But the fact of the matter was, something truly horrific almost happened to me today.

I almost got raped.

No, really.

RAPED.

Forced against my will. Screaming and crying and begging him to stop.

Raped.

And it didn't mean anything that he wasn't here now. He HAD been here. He HAD had that intention, and he was DAMNED well going to go through with it.

And I'm sorry, but that scared the fucking bejeezus about of me.

Because I was alone, again. It was night. I was cold, and I couldn't sleep. I was surrounded by an unearthly mass of deep shadow and fog, and there were three very violent ghosts haunting the school just adjacent to where I was currently situated.

EXCUSE ME FOR BEING A LITTLE WIGGY.

I tried so hard to close my eyes and block all thoughts, but it SO wasn't happening. If it wasn't Cole's fist coming towards my face in seemingly slow motion, it was Paul and Jesse attempting to beat each other shitless. Or it was Dani's eyes. From, you know, her corpse, not her living self. They were bearable.

Her dead eyes were not. They were things of nightmares. Gaunt, hollow, dead, haunting.

And when it wasn't that, it was Cole all over again . . . chasing me, touching me, threatening me, hunting me down . . .

I didn't like being alone. But I sure as hell was alone now.

And it was damned scary.

My teeth were chattering by now. I lifted my hands up, and glared at them. They were both shaking like mad, like little vibrators. Eww. Nice reference, Suze.

Every time I went to look out the window, I couldn't bring myself to. I kept seeing Cole standing there, in the dark, smirking at me. Even though he wasn't there, I saw him. It was if his memory, not his ghost, was haunting me.

Pull yourself together, Suze! You RETARD. Come on, STOP IT. When you're on your own, no one can hurt you.

But it's scary to think what would happen if all of a sudden, you WEREN'T on your own.

All of a sudden, someone's there with you, watching you, waiting . . .

SUZE, FOR GOD'S SAKE, STOP IT!

AND FOR THE LOVE OF ALL THINGS HOLY, STOP SHIVERING!

Which only made me shake harder.

This was nuts. It was madness. I was terrified of being alone. Now, anyway. It was truly horrible. The corners of my soul were frozen with an ice-cold grip of fear that would not relinquish.

And after an eternity of debating, "Yes," and "No . . . " I finally opened the car door, and hopped out, holding onto my flashlight religiously.

I made my way shakily over to Paul's jaguar. If he was awake, maybe we could talk and I wouldn't be alone -

He won't be awake, Suze.

I shone my flashlight in front of me, moving as quickly as possible before the darkness had a chance to consume me completely. The chill threatened to assassinate me there and then. I was numb with cold. I couldn't feel my fingers or my toes.

Once at Paul's car door, I realized, uh, he had tinted windows. And I couldn't see through them anyway.

God, DAMN IT . . .

Why was I even standing there? Why was I going to PAUL? After how he'd treated me lately, the Cole thing TOTALLY aside, why did I still TRUST him? Just thinking about him made more shards of dignity crumble away.

Suze, leave him alone. This whole thing was traumatic for him. His girlfriend - NOT his stupid one night stand - had been murdered.

So just go back to your little priestly friend's car, and shiver THERE, not outside the door of the guy you slept with for a couple of hours.

Closing my eyes at the pang of pain, I turned around and hugged my arms around my upper body.

The slightly stronger wind is snatching at my skin that was exposed. I shivered with yet more violence.

'Psst! Hey, where do you think you're going?'

I turned back around, and saw that the car door was open slightly. A weary looking Paul was gazing out at me curiously.

'Oh, sorry, I was just . . . you know, seeing, um - go back to sleep, sorry - '

Paul raised his eyebrows. 'Do you still have that phobia of getting into cars with me, Simon?'

I hugged myself even tighter. 'Um . . . '

I touched my fingers to my face, and realized how cold I actually was. My fingers were ICE. Jeez.

'Come on,' Paul opened the door more, 'Get in.' The Jaguar's black interior looked very inviting.

'Oh - ' I said, off-guard. 'Uh, I didn't mean to - '

'Suze, get in,' he said in a firmer voice.

'Okay,' I muttered, sliding in. I'm SO easily bullied.

I slowly closed the door, and then sat with my knees together tightly, my hands in my lap, and my head bowed. I was very, VERY aware of Paul's presence . . .

'Here,' Paul handed me one of his blankets. His hand brushed against mine. 'Whoa, Suze - you're freezing.'

As opposed to "you're hot."

Yay.

I looked up, but not at him.

'Um, thanks,' I said, pulling the blanket over me, before leaning my head against the window.

I clenched my teeth together in an effort to get them to quit chattering.

'So . . . ' Paul drawled, 'Couldn't sleep?'

'Not really,' I smiled very, very weakly. 'You?'

'Same,' he sighed. 'Black leather isn't as comfortable as they play it up to be.'

Luxury isn't always perfect, Paul.

'You've got something on your mind,' Paul told me. He pulled his own blanket around his shoulders.

'Maybe.'

'Mind sharing? We both can't sleep, we might as well be productive. We have all night, after all,' he added with a grin.

I took a large breath. Here he was, doing to all over again . . .

I stared more intently at the leather lining of the seat in front of me. 'Cole?' he guessed softly.

A kind of strangled noise came from me, but I didn't say a word. Why did I even COME here? All he was going to do was ask and ask and ask and take and take, and take . . .

Why didn't I go to Mr and Mrs McTavish's car?

Sure, I would have had to watch them provide each other with orgasms, but it was better than THIS.

I breathed in again, and looked out the window, but since all I saw was Cole, over and over again, waiting in the darkness, I had to look away, back at the car seat.

'Suze,' Paul said. 'You know, if something's bothering you, you can tell me. We've been needing to have a little chat for a while, too.'

'Yes, okay?' I said quickly. 'I'm scared. Happy?'

'No,' he replied. 'Why do you think I'd be happy that you were scared, Suze?'

Because you're a thing of evil and you smell bad.

I didn't answer.

'I don't want to talk,' I said a little stiffly.

'Well, I do,' Paul leant over to me a little. 'I think we owe it to each other, Suze.'

'Not really,' I sniffed, still gritting my teeth to prevent any chattering.

Paul grunted something in annoyance.

'What do we need to talk about?' I asked in clipped tones.

'Us,' he responded.

I will admit, my heart was frivilous and foolish enough to thud that bit harder at hearing at word.

Just a two letter word, and yet, it made a small, powerful hope develope within me . . .

Us . . . ?

'Well,' I half yawned, 'I'm not in the mood to hear a nicely crafted bullshit story. I'm really tired, Paul.'

Paul's face was expressionless. 'You think I'd lie?'

'I don't know,' I shrugged. Paul groaned, and looked up at the ceiling kind of helplessly. 'Well, what do you EXPECT?' I demanded, twisting to face him.

'I don't know either,' he responded.

He closed his eyes.

'Look, I have no idea of knowing how you think. Or what you really want out of this thing. Now, I'm used to getting hurt. It's like, the norm for me. But I don't like to actually dig my own graves. That's just stupid. So I'm not going to believe you if you just call me a missing piece. And that night . . . ' I paused, and breathed in deeply, 'that meant more to me than I think you realize.'

Paul's shoulders sank a bit, at that.

'And,' I went on, 'It's looking like another thing to add to the long list of my mistakes.'

'I hope it doesn't make it. I'd hate to think that you regretted it,' Paul said sideways to me.

I smiled wryly, in spite of myself. 'You WOULD hate that, wouldn't you.'

'Of course. Because I didn't. What we did . . . it was more than okay by me.'

. . . MORE THAN OKAY?

I went very still, and then jerked around. 'More than okay!' I echoed shrilly, and then promptly began fumbling around for the door knob, 'Oh my God - '

'Suze - don't, no wait, stop - don't go,' Paul said quickly.

'Why the hell should I STAY? So we can do more things that are more-than-okay by you?' I shoved his stupid blankets off of me.

Suze, you're an IDIOT.

Paul's hand came to my shoulder. 'I - Suze, please, you know I didn't mean it like that - '

I couldn't believe this. I couldn't believe HIM. I stared at his hand in pure and utter disgust. Most of this feeling, however, was directed towards myself. I mean, how could I have been so stupid?

I should have exercised more self-control. In the heat of the moment, I should have taken my hands from his soft, silken curls and onto his strong, muscular chest and-

Aw, hell. Given those circumstances, it would have been hard for ANY girl. Unless you're batting for the other team or something.

I found the door knob and jerked the door open with all of my might. I was about to step out, when a random gust of mighty wind came and pushed me back in the car, the door slamming behind me loudly.

You know what? Getting in a car with Paul Slater is just a BAD idea. It doesn't matter if he's seventeen, or twenty-three, or even a hundred and ten. Especially since he has the ability to pull crap like THAT.

It was even worse when I noticed just how close Paul's little bit of shifter magic had brought us. I tried to ignore it and look angry instead of aware and nervous. Of course, I could

Of course, I could pretend I was miles away, and it still wouldn't change the fact that my nose could almost touch his cheek.

'Please,' Paul pleaded, 'let's just talk it out. I'm sure we have much to say to each other that we've avoided for a really long time.'

'There's a reason we've avoided it, Paul,' I said, crossing my arms tightly over my chest. 'It's because whenever we try to confront it, it always blows out of proportion, and then when we get all worked up over it, it turns into something completely pointless and irrelevant.'

'Like sex?' Paul asked.

I looked away, trying not to look hurt.

'Yeah. I mean, we were in this huge argument and then the subject changed from my problems to your problems, and then all of a sudden it was US. And then you had to kiss me and then THAT happened-'

Paul cut me off with the wave of his hand. 'Suze. Have you ever stopped to think that maybe it's the arguing that's pointless and irrelevant?'

He had me there. 'Well, no,' I replied. 'But it wasn't like we were planning this to happen.'

'Maybe we didn't have to. Maybe it was bound to happen sooner or later, and then just happened to be the right moment.'

'Since when do you believe in fate, Slater?' I asked, narrowing my eyes at him.

Paul let out a breath that I didn't realize he was holding in until I felt it on my burning cheek.

'Since I met you.'

I groaned a little. 'Right,' I said disbelievingly. 'Whatever.'

'You think I'm lying?' he asked in defense.

'How should I know?'

He snapped his head back to the front. 'Just because of what happened after, we can't ruin this, Suze.'

'Ruin WHAT?' I demanded angrily. 'What are you talking about? Us? We don't have anything, Paul! We have both established that that . . . night - it wasn't meant-'

'What do you mean?' he faced me again. His nose looked particularly strong in the moonlight, and I could see the soft reflections of me in his eyes.

'Well, I know you didn't care about it,' I babbled, 'And I - '

'How do you KNOW what I think, Suze? You've just said that you don't! You have no idea what goes through my mind just as much as I have no idea what the hell goes through yours.'

'You TOLD me!' I cried at him, 'Remember? "So I stick you for one night and suddenly you love me?" when we were up at the attic - '

He laughed at me. 'You thought I MEANT that, Suze? I was trying to get you out of there.'

I swallowed.

. . . Oh.

'Well,' I said bitterly, 'You didn't have to say THAT. You don't realize how badly that hurt, do you?'

'You weren't going to leave any other way,' he told me. I looked down. His hand was beside mine, on the leather seat. I tugged the rug back up to me, trying to fend myself from the cold.

I twisted away, and pouted. This was all so screwed up . . .

'I just don't want to think about it anymore, okay?' I said, dissmissing something he was about to add.

'Fine,

' Paul said. 'No more thinking.'

I felt his hand graze my leg. I instantly froze.

'No. I'm going to keep thinking . . . thinking that you suck and that you're being totally unfair by messing with me,' I snapped. I swatted his hand off my leg and held the blanket closer to me.

Even I, Susannah Simon, did not deserve this. And that's saying something.

'Don't you realize that nothing in life is fair, Suze?' Paul asked, sitting back in his chair a little, but not in defeat like I hoped. 'I mean, if you think about it, is it really fair that Father Dom has a tumor? I mean, he's a freaking priest. If he's doomed, we're ALL doomed in this world. And what about Jack? Was it fair that he had to leave the school? All because the fab four of this damned school had to go and murder my girlfriend? And, I might be mistaken, but it's also not fair that Cole sought you out, catching you and all of us off guard. I mean, none of us DESERVE this, do we?'

I went a little stiff.

'Maybe we do,' I replied, softly.

'God, Simon,' Paul kind of scowled, 'Don't start that again.'

'Start what? The fact that people eventually get what's coming to them?'

'When did YOU start believing in fate?' Paul echoed from earlier.

'I don't,' I said. And as much as God sucks, I for some daft reason, believe in Him. Weird. 'All I'm saying is it's not fair that you're doing this . . . I don't know how much of it I can take.'

Paul shook his head at me in disgust. 'I'm not being fair? Suze, we did something together . . . we gave each other something precious, and you're trying to tell me that I didn't mean that? You think that's fair? Or is this just your twisted way of telling me that you didn't want it to happen? And you're trying to make it seem like my fault so you're not feeling guilty. Is that it?'

'No – '

'Suze, embrace the truth or dub it as a lie. We had sex. That's that. Now that was probably the best thing that I've experienced. It meant a whole lot more, since it was with you. I mean that,' Paul stressed at me. 'Okay?'

'A whole lot more than what?' I asked nervously. 'Paul, I had to tell Jesse that I didn't love him. Before all of this. And it's true, I don't. After all this time I couldn't keep loving and hating him. Paul, was it worth me telling him? Because if that was just a "whole lot more" to you, while for me it was probably "the most," I - ' I trailed off, and sighed. 'I just don't know . . . '

I looked back at Paul sadly, and saw that his face was blank in shock.

'You don't love Jesse anymore,' he echoed tonelessly. 'You're serious.'

'Er, yes.'

He blinked, still looking flabbergasted. 'You mean . . . you weren't thinking about him during - the whole time, that was all for me?'

Uh, that sounded weird.

'What do you mean?' I asked. 'What's the big shock?'

He shook his head in mild disbelief. 'Just . . . you'd be a little stunned too, if the only reason Suze Simon ever came to me was because of Jesse de Silva.'

I bit my lip a little. 'It was all for you,' I said quietly.

Paul let out a small laugh, and looked out the window, eyebrows raised. Instantly, I flared up. Jesse's pain was music to his ears. 'It's NOT funny,' I spat, 'You have - you have NO idea what it was like, telling him that I didn't love him. It was so . . . he was just completely broken, and - so don't you DARE - '

'Shhhh,' Paul pacified me, looking back. 'Suze, I'm not laughing at him, I swear. I just didn't expect that.'

'Expect what?'

'What you just told me,' he said. 'I was scared that you'd look me in the eye, say it all meant jack to you, and tell me that you were wishing I was someone else. Wishing I was him.'

I shook my head quickly. 'No . . . earlier today, Jesse kissed me. And - all I could think about was you,' I said huskily.

'He kissed y - ?'

'It was nothing,' I said quickly.

Paul just stared at me, before laughing a little, again. He shook his head. 'God, I'm an idiot,' he muttered.

'I'm even more of one,' I added with a sigh.

. . . Suze, what he's saying, it - it could only mean one thing -

Oh please, God, don't let this be a lie . . . please, PLEASE, don't let it be a lie.

This was it.

I took a deep breath, and all my blood froze in mid-pump.

Please, oh please . . .

'Paul, just give me a straight answer,' I half-choked out. I looked him in the eye gravely.

Breathe, Simon. Remember that thing? Involving oxygen? Do that thing.

'Do you love me?'

A horrible wave of unbearable cold washed over me, bringing the chill up to full scale. I shivered, and my heart was at a standstill, stained with ice-cold qualms.

Paul's mouth parted. But my gaze was on his eyes.

He answered.

'More than you'll ever know.'

I swallowed something huge in the back of my throat, and closed my eyes. Hard. I felt his hand on my face. It was so unbelievably warm. He reinforced his words, 'Suze, I love you.'

I breathed out noisily.

'That's good enough for me,' I whispered.

And I closed the space between us.

And I was kissing him, and he was kissing me. A lot. The next time I was conscious enough to realize what was happening, I was straddling his lap, holding his face, kissing him. His hands were on my hips, pulling me right against him. I felt numb from the quick change in my body temperature. I'd gone from freezing to sweltering in a matter of seconds, it seemed.

Oh, God . . .

Soon, my mind got lost in a far away place as I succumbed to feelings that were purely physical. The way his hands felt on me was thrilling. They made my skin, my blood, and my soul yearn for him to never stop touching me. There was something more in his kiss . . . it was so much deeper than just lust.

Paul kissed along my jaw, then on my neck, and I half-moaned. It was hot. And cold. But he was making it hot. His mouth descended till it was kissing the skin over my collarbone. My head rolled back, and my hands smoothed over his shoulders. The tell tale, um, throbbing of certain places made it's big return, which probably wasn't the best thing, then.

My senses were jarred, and my skin was burning wherever he touched me. I didn't want him to stop. He returned his kiss to my lips, kissing me with an almost abrasive pressure and with even more passion. My hands went straight to his hand, and he groaned softly. Then, with his hands still firmly on my hips, he quickly moved me so I was lying against the car seat. Then he crawled over me and continued kissing me. The breathlessness was coming back, and so was the dizziness, and the pleasure. I was drinking it all in like a life force.

One thing about the backseat of a car?

It's kind of cramped.

But whatever.

He was leaning on his elbows so I wasn't getting all of his body weight. He lifted his head from mine after a second, looking down at me. 'Are you okay?' he asked, 'Is this . . . after what happened today, this is probably too – '

'Shut up, Paul,' I breathed. He kind of smirked, before moving back down to my mouth, where he gently bit my lower lip.

I'm sorry, but that just felt too damn good. A stifled moan escaped my throat, and my nails dug into his shoulders, pulling him against me more. He kind of make this half-groan against my lips. I felt it throughout my entire body. One of his hands was arching me into him, teasing the skin there cruelly. I shuddered from the long lost pleasure.

But then, it all stopped, way too quickly.

Because what I saw outside the window made my heart seize up completely.

'Oh my G – Paul stop it, don't – '

Paul pulled away quickly, while I looked past him with abject horror. 'Suze? What – '

'Jesse,' I whispered. 'Oh, shit – '

'What about him?' Paul demanded with slight anger, but I was already on my way to wriggling out of the car.

Because Jesse de Silva could obviously see through tinted windows.

And he'd seen quite a show.

The look on his face was proof of that. He looked like he'd just been killed, again and again and again and again and again . . .

And I was the one killing him.

By the time I'd forced the car door open, Jesse had started to dematerialize.

'WAIT!' I shouted.

He stopped, and his form became solid again. His eyes were red in fury and indescribable hurt.

My world started spinning faster and faster. No, no, no, no, NO, NO! Why did these things HAPPEN? Just when something DID go right, something had to go WRONG.

He stood there, appalled. 'Oh, Susannah . . . '

I didn't know what I could say to him that would make him stop looking at me like that. Those two words were filled with something that was worse than hurt. It was a toxic fusion of resentment, rage, revulsion and other emotions that I couldn't even begin to identify.

He stared at me for a moment, before looking up at the night sky, closing his eyes.

'Jesse,' I said in my smallest voice, 'Look, you weren't supposed to f – '

'Susannah!' Jesse's face rippled suddenly in anger. That's when I realized what was fueling him.

Jealousy. Dark, deadly jealousy.

'When you told me you were no longer in love with me, that other night, I was – ' he discontinued, and looked away heatedly. 'But to have gone to him! Him, Susannah?'

He started cursing in low, loud, rapid Spanish, distressing me even more. My heart was thudding. 'Jesse please, would you just hear me out? I know that – '

'No,' Jesse's eyes flashed, 'I've done enough hearing. More so than I believe I can endure.' There were emotions flying hotly across his face that I didn't even know EXISTED. 'I – I understand in this damned time that it is common for a man and a woman to . . . come together for one night,' he spat in abhorrence, 'But you and SLATER? Why, Susannah? I know that you do not love him!'

'How the HELL did you figure that?' I demanded. 'You don't know ANYTHING about me! Jesse, I'm not the Suze you knew five years ago, okay?'

'That, I believe. She would have never – '

'The old Suze is DEAD,' I yelled. 'You KILLED her, okay? She couldn't take life without you do she just gave up, because it was easier. This new one was living the life of a dead woman. Only now has she actually started LIVING.'

He flinched at my words.

'Jesse,' I lowered my volume, and my throat closed up as I said it, 'As much as you'd like to think otherwise . . . I do love him.'

Oh my God.

Really? Whoa.

. . . I hadn't been able to even admit that to MYSELF, let alone Paul. Why had it taken JESSE to realize that?

Jesse went dead still. He just froze. Immobilized. Something in his eyes just . . . faded. Like a fire that had been burning was suddenly extinguished. He didn't say a word. He just stared at me, lost.

'Say something,' I begged.

My eyes welled up . . . I couldn't bear to break a heart . . . it had happened already to me, and I knew the exquisitely horrific pain of it. It wasn't fair that I was now subjecting Jesse to this, even if it was indeed him who had inflicted such a curse on me. But no one deserved it. However, there didn't seem to be any other way . . .

'Jesse,' my voice was something breathy and dying, 'I'm so sorry.'

His eyes snapped back to mine. Another replacement fire was lit. 'I sincerely doubt that.'

'What?' I gasped, 'You think I want to hurt you? I couldn't – no way. You want me to LIE to you?'

'As a ghost, I have no care for truths,' Jesse said coldly.

I shook my head, backing away. 'Jesse, you never talk like this. Why are you saying th – '

The wind kicked up and started to blow. The trees behind him swayed. Jesse remained impeccably unaffected by nature's wrath. Either that or he was causing it, I wasn't sure.

This was scary. Cole had had an obsession with my body.

But Jesse had an obsession with my love.

It was bad enough that it couldn't be his.

It was even worse now that it was most definitely someone else's.

And adding to that fact that said "someone" was Paul Slater, well . . . it was just unbearable.

'Jesse,' my voice was breaking up, 'I'm sorry, but I can't choose who I love – '

'Yes you can,' he shot back, 'You chose HIM – '

'Look, I can't HELP it if I'm NOT IN LOVE WITH YOU ANYMORE, OKAY?' I screamed shrilly at him, into the night air.

Oh God, oh God, I didn't m –

Shit.