What do you MEAN I haven't updated this since April? Come now; let's not be facetious. I would NEVER… All right. In all seriousness, I had a weird time with this chapter. First draft I didn't like, second draft I lost somewhere; they say three's the charm, so let's hope, neh? I maintain that the chapters for this will (now) come quickly and will be fairly brief length in comparison to other things I've done.

Simon says review.

Two

Remy blinked, but the open-shut action of his eyelids did nothing to clear away the apparition before him. She remained there, wearing her long dress and that look of mild amusement. So pale she nearly glowed, like face of the moon, his Ghost of the Necklace. Ghost of the necklace? That had to be the stupidest thing he'd ever heard, really. The very idea was absurd, for so many reasons, not the least being the fact that ghosts –phantoms, specters, spirits- didn't exist. They were the stuff of bad dreams, campfire tales, and occasionally, Shakespeare. And that trick she'd done with her hand was just that –a trickIf anything, he should be annoyed that she'd used such faster-than-the-eye manipulations against him.

With each thought, Remy's tongue grew back a little more, until he was at last ready to call security and get her thrown out of his hotel room. Attractive or not, she wasn't playing with a full deck and Remy had no time or energy to placate the insane. He'd just opened his mouth, intent on giving her one last warning, when the girl glanced past him and…

Well.

Walked through him. One minute she was a foot away, watching him watch her, and the next she was pushing through his chest and legs and arms to get onto the bed. He looked over his shoulder to see her move across the rumpled sheets. The bed didn't sink under her weight. "This hotel room is really nice," she remarked, "Are you rich o' just lucky?" She studied him. "Maybe both?" There was a slightly cold, tingling sensation in his limbs.

He didn't answer, because… she'd walked through him! Through. Him. Through him. No matter the number of times he repeated it to himself, the statement didn't make any more sense. Reality didn't shift into a place where it was perfectly normal for girls to appear in his room and start phasing past his body like he or she was just a holographic image. Something clicked. Holographic image!

He narrowed his eyes and glanced around. This would be so like Bella, to find the technology and mastermind a ruse that made him doubt his sanity, while she giggled and smoked from her own ghost-less hotel room, watching the whole scene unfold on a computer screen. "All right," he said, feeling relieved that at least there was a sensible answer. "How much is she payin' you?" It wasn't enough. The girl was a damn fine actress. She said the words like she believed them.

She didn't hesitate to respond with, "Fifty thousand."

He almost choked on his own saliva with that amount. "What?"

The girl shrugged. "Ah could pick a different number. Higher. Lower. Change it ta yen."

"Bella don't renegotiate contracts," Remy pointed out.

"Who?"

"Belladonna. Femme who put y' up t' trickin' me."

"Oh. Right. Naturally. Of course." She rolled her eyes and jumped off the other edge of the bed. Her attention was at the mirror, then. She examined her face, traced a hand beneath her eyes. Like she was touching a mask, he thought. "You're far too clever for me an' uh, Bella. Can't believe we ever thought this little game would fool ya." Her voice carried a distinctly mocking tone.

"Well," he said, "y' could've put on more of a show."

"Ya mean like… flickerin' lights?" Her voice was too eager. "An' quiet moans in the dark? Maybe some chains on my limbs, a la Jacob Marley? Wow. Those are great suggestions. Ah don't know why Ah think ta ask for that stuff when Ah was bein' murdered an' my soul imprisoned in a shoddy necklace. Damn it!" She stomped her foot.

"Chere," Remy sighed, sensing he was close to once again losing control of the situation.

But she was holding up the edge of his sheet now, asking, "What if Ah put this over my head an' cut two holes for eyes. More convincin'?" When he didn't answer, she let it drop from her fingers and flutter back down to the mattress. They stared at each other, challengingly, Remy and his Not-a-Ghost.

"Dat ain't funny."

"Ah'll be a good lil' ghost an' work on my act. What's purgatory for if not ta entertain you?"

"An' can y' stop wit' da sarcasm, hmm?"

"Yes, Master." She folded her eyes, blinked, and vanished. Seconds later, she began to hum the I Dream of Jeannie theme song in his ear. He ran his hands over his face and sighed. What the hell was happening?

"All right, can I call a truce?" Remy conceded. "I'll make like you're a real ghost, an' you just shut da hell up. We'll sit an' play nice, like good lil' kids?"

The silence lingered on and he wondered if, maybe, she'd done him one better and just disappeared for good. But then she materialized again on the same chair where he'd first seen her, sitting pretzel style, her face once again unreadable. A sigh lifted and fell her chest. "A habit," she said. "Ah don't breathe, but my exasperation still needs an outlet. An'… the whole Jeannie thing was probably takin' it too far. Sometimes, Ah overreact. It's just the most annoyin' thing ever when the only person in the whole world who can hear ya, doesn't believe you're even real." She dropped her gaze.

Remy found himself sitting. "I'm da only one who can hear you?"

"So long as that," she kicked a foot towards the discarded necklace, "is yours, yeah."

Remy's attention at last turned back to the silver necklace that had started everything. If it had been lackluster before, it was downright dull now. He easily could've bought its likeness for fifty cents at the local drug store. Curled up and forgotten on the floor, and he felt a pang of guilt in remembering how he'd last seen Genevieve in a similar position. Opting not to share that with the ghost, he instead lifted the piece of jewelry into his hand. It burned, ice cold, in his palm.

"So, how did you know Gen?" The girl asked.

"We were new friends," he said.

"Oh." She nodded. "How… how did she die? Was it like a car accident, a murder? She was too dumb for her job, you know." She gave a sad laugh. "Too nice for it, too. She always used to swear that she was goin' ta help me find a way ta free my soul. We must've poured over fifteen thousand books, lookin' for somethin'."

"It was a murder," he confessed.

"Ah knew it." Rogue sighed again.

"Listen, I-" He stopped, though, and they both turned at the sound of rustling behind the door. Bella, he figured, when a key slid into the lock. When he looked back, the girl was gone, vanished again. A gush of fresh air accompanied the pretty Cajun as she entered. Bella entering the room was like the break of dawn. She wore a bright gold dress than nearly matched the warm tan of her skin, and all her curling hair let loose, like a cascade of sunlight down her shoulders. She drew open his curtains and let the morning start to seep in.

Curious eyes scanned the room, as if searching. "Did I hear y' talkin' t' someone?"

Unconsciously, his hand tightened around the bracelet. "Myself," he said quickly. His own eyes darted back to the chair where the girl-ghost had been sitting. He wanted to tell Bella about his encounter, but couldn't find a good reason to. It wasn't like she could see the girl.

"Oh." She shrugged and sat down beside him. "Listen, about last night…"

"Don't worry 'bout it." Remy said. "I know when Candra says the word, can't nothin' be done."

She shifted, uncomfortable. "Maybe somethin'."

"Huh?"

"Henri called me again. He said y' don't answer y' phone for him, ever. Said he misses you."

At this, Remy frowned and momentarily forgot about his visitor. The memory of his brother was haunting enough. "Henri is taboo. Dat's how come I don't answer m' phone for him. He should understand. Da choice was made clear: his girl or us. He didn't choose us." He could still picture the back of his brother's green shirt as he and the petite Merci walked off into the sunset like a Hollywood miracle, all hopes and dreams and soon-to-be-wedded bliss. Neither of them had spared a glance for the LeBeau family left behind, denied their son and brother. Of course Bella was quick to forgiveness; she wasn't the one who'd had to clear out his room on Candra's orders; if Julien had done the same, she'd have murdered him on his honeymoon.

"But Remy…"

"I don't feel well t'day, Bella. Could we reschedule our plane tickets for tomorrow?"

Her face was drawn in a pout. "I guess."

"An' no more talk 'bout Henri?"

"You'll change your mind sooner or later," she promised him. "An' you'll regret it if it's later."

"Bella."

She huffed. "No more talk about Henri. Today." She stuck out her tongue.

The ghost didn't return after Bella's departure, and Remy soon found himself alone in the shower. The water beating against his chest was nearly scalding, a welcome warmth. With hands full of soap clouds, he rubbed tension from his shoulders. There was too much to think about, so he tried to concentrate on nothing at all. Blindly, Remy made a grab for the shampoo bottle. He emptied a handful of the cold sludge onto his scalp and started rubbing it into his auburn hair. Almost relaxing, that.

The faintest of smiles appeared on his lips.

"Would you like a little privacy?" Wide-eyed, he half turned to see the ghost leaning back against the wall. The water didn't seem to touch her at all. She was examining him with more interest that before. He looked down to see what was drawing her eyes and-

Oh.

"I'm takin' a shower!" He insisted. Not that he was particularly averse to having attractive females in the show with him; he just preferred that they got there upon invitation. Or, failing that, had the decency to get naked too.

"Ah can see that," she answered, calmly. "Ah'm bored. Was that girl here earlier Bella?"

"Yes."

"Huh."

He narrowed his eyes. "Huh?"

"Ah just expected your girlfriend to be a little more…"

"More what?"

She scrunched up her face and shook her head. "Never mind." She glanced up. "This is a nice shower."

"Get out." Remy said.

"More dumb, since ya ask."

"Why would m' girlfriend be dumb?"

She shrugged. "Ah don't know. Ya seem the type."

"I'm da Dumb Girlfriend Type?"

She grinned. "So ya think so too?"

He blinked, and damn it all if soap didn't sting his eyes. He wanted to rub them, to duck his face under the faucet until the contamination was clear. But somewhere, that seemed like letting her win. So he stood there, letting the tearing of his eyes be masked by the fall of water against his shoulders.

"Bella's m' partner, not a girlfriend," he heard himself say.

"Huh." She said again.

"Now what?"

"Pretty girl spends her time with you, has a key ta your apartment, and you're not interested. Is there anything about your life choices that you'd like to share? 'Cause really, Ah end up findin' out all the big secrets anyway."

He gripped the wall. "I don't know if it's gonna work between us, Chere. Me an' you keepin' company. I feel like I'd have killed y' if you weren't already dead."

"Ah'm tryin' ta be open-minded an' understandin'!" She protested.

"By arguing wit' me in da shower?"

"Always a complaint." She threw up her hands and stepped through his shower curtain.

He sighed, and then she poked her head back through. "By the way, Ah'm flattered." Remy considered this for the briefest second, before realizing what she meant. Then, he threw a glob of soap at the space where she'd been. God, he was going to go stark raving mad.

And there we go. Review, and I promise that I will update like, fast. It'll be our pact, okay? As always, all questions, comments, and coconuts can be sent to me. I'm Eileenblzr at Yahoo. If you're lost, thinking 'oh no! What will I do until Eileen updates?' you can always mosey on over to my other fic-in-progress, Out of the Blue. It gets jealous if SS gets all the attention. Again, thanks a bunch!

On a personal note:

AnalisDestiny, the past, heartsyhawk, abril4, jade, musigmistress, Enchantedlight, black spades, Rogue14, Orange, Kyo-Kitty, Texasgrrl, Elle457: You guys are all the bestest ever and I owe you a debt of gratitude. Whatever you want, just ask it. I'll be sure to smile and hope fervently that it comes your way.

Ishandatwenty: Thanks for scaring me with the promise of too much work in Real College, Ish. Just as I finalize the paperwork, too. Actually, the ghost isn't Rogue. I know, you thought 'cause of the accent, right? Actually, it's Sam in drag. True story. I've watched too much Sorority Boys.

Katya-Who-Will-Not-Read-This: You're supposed to be the keeper of the stories. How did you lose my other chapter!

Gothikstrawberry: Is the ghost Rogue? Well… I feel like I shouldn't say yes, just because I thrive on other people's wonder and confusion. But, you know, Romy is in my blood. Thanks!

Wildcardrose, Chica De Los Ojos Café: Still not forgetting about WMB! I swear! It's just…delayed. Thanks!

Rogue Gal: I fear I might not have explained things too well in this new chapter. But yes, it's Rogue, and yes, it's Romy, and yes, there will be a continuing add of detail, I promise.

Poisoned-Tattoo: Difficult rhyme, too. Impressive. Most impressive. Thanks!

Freak87: You don't count since April has a long time, right? I don't even know if it was in April, or in May. Well, one of those spring months. Spring is right next to summer, after all…heh. Thanks!

Neurotic Temptress: Always expecting another update? Where are yours, hmm?

Paula: Where are you!

Kouken no Kouchou: Hi! I feel like… I'm disappointed that these chapters aren't longer, more detailed, because I'd really like to hear what you think! If you're ever wandering, maybe you could take a look at Blue, which I'm also writing and which has, incidentally, more story written. Anywho, thanks!
Silverbells: Are you really a math major? Really? 'cause you like, like math? I find myself…stunned. Thanks for the review!

TheRogueAuthor: Don't cry! Do review! Thanks ever so much!