A/N: Howdy!!! OK, so I'm gonna be acknowledging your reviews for both chappies 9 AND 10. Seeing as I posted them at the same time. Phew. This may take a while...

Nice Hayley: I lub it in books when guys get jealous. Especially for no reason. That's why I try to put a lot of jealousy in...hehehe. You MAY have noticed...I figured Paul could have told Dopey about the bedroom escapade when he got drunk or something. Or maybe he just wanted to get Suze in trouble, I don't know. Don't look at me, I just write this thing! "If she dies...she canbe with Jesse." - or not...What if she moves on? And Jesse...doesn't? Hehehehehehee

xxreixx: Jesse just annoys you? HOW? Weiner. ;-P

Oenone: You have heard they have Prada in death? What are you, Jesus?

deadly-terrors: You're not haunting my dreams. Just terrorizing them. There's a difference, ya know. Have a cheesy watsit hands her a cheesy watsit

Pens in potatoes: The whole Jesse-tucking-Suze-into-bed? I was having a slight angel moment. I have this thing about angels. And I could just picture Jesse with a golden-white glow (in Suze's dazed eyes) helping and healing her. I like to think there are angels walking amongst us. Because I'm a freak. ;-D And I'm totally working on the Paul-Suze makeout session! Fear not, lusty wench! :-)

SweetestReject: Danker shun! Or whatever that German thingy is. And no one say "Worzel" cos that's a type of sausage, not "Thank you" in German.

Mystique Angelique: I totally agree with you on Meg's last excerpt - It was so unJesse-ish. He would normally have listened to Suze about what she had to say about Paul, and not kissed her to shut her up. I make my Jesse do that because normally I think he is quite dull in Meg's books, so I can get away with it...hehehe. Also, I'm a teenager with rampaging hormones coursing through my blood, so I can blame any lustations on that. And the fact that I need to get laid. But that;s beside the point and, frankly, probably a little gross for you lot to know about. Moowhahahaaa. Stop, Emily. Just....stop. "is Paul going to like, do something aong the
lines of soul tranference, or something? Like, take Suze's life?"
- You are a very perceptive bunny, you know that? Seriously. But you'll have to wait until chappie 12 (which is coming like, either tonight or tomorrow) to find out exactly what they ahve to do. Well, not exactly, but the generaly gist of it. And I am totally working on more Paul-Suze stuff. A lot of you guys are asking for it, so. You know. I'm gonna work it in there...MOOWHAHAHAHAAA. Good stuff, good stuff. And thanks for noticing how I try to get real life into it - I always try to do that because it helps make it more believable. It does make it harder though, living in England, cos I don't know half the stuff Suze is talking about most of the time, lol. So usually my "real life inputs" are really random and crap. Lol. But if you think they are ok, then EXCELLENT. (I totally had fun doing that roleplay - even if I did make Paul a bipolar PSYCHO. A lot of rage output was used. It made me feel healthier. Hehehe)

tt: Please, no Buffy mentions in my reviews. Or Spike. Or Angel. Please. No. No. Just....no. AND NO CSI ONES, EITHER!!!! Ta for the review...hehehhee

Naomi: Aaaw! Ta, senorita! My last comment means: no psycho-analysing me in front of my reviewers. Lol. I don't NEED psycho-analysing, but if I am gonna be "shrinked up" - NOT IN FRONT OF MY REVIEWERS!! (I don't want to give the wrong impression....) Hahha - too late for that, me thinks.................................................................... ;-P

Hauntedgurrl: I like cliffies. Hehehe. I never thought I was very good at them, and yet...I just couldn't stop! Lol.

Jessie: Coolioness! Thankness! Enjoyness!

Jesse's babe: How confusing. Above you is Jessie, and you are Jesse's babe. How hilarious. ........ Except your real name is Rachel. So. You know. Hmmmmmmmmm.

Gen. Kenobi: I lub Ewan McGregor! He's so purdy!!!! I love replying to you guys!! It's thanks for reviewing my stories! You guys always make me smile, even with the shortest of reviews. Lol - thanks about the getting published thing....Not too sure about that though...HAHAHA, especially the Aftershave publishing company...Lol. Such a great idea. Only genii like us would appreciate it. Is it genii, or geniuses? How confuzzling....

DancinSweethart: I know! Pride and Prejudice is awesome. I still waiting for the DVD for my birthday (in like, 3 weeks!!) hint hint MUM.

Teen-princess: HAHA, physco - I think you meant psycho, right? Lol. I always spell psychiatrist wrong. Why would they put a "p" there? WHY? We're starting school on Thursday AND I'M SCARED!!!!!!!!!!!! I don't know what supplies I'll need or if I'll even be SMART enough for my GCSE subjects....my head may just explode.

UnangelicHalo: You are so right - heaven wouldn't be heavenly without shopping. Hehehe. I haven't lost "it" or anything. I never had "it". Silly boy.

Princess Alexiel: You told your bro about Paul? HAHAHA, man. My bro would think I was mental. The only books he reads are faction, Spot the dog, and Hard Core Porn. (He reads Spot for the pictures). How old is your bro? NO, I'm not perving on him. I just like learning about my loverly reviewers (do you think this reflects on how dull and boring my life is? The fact that I like to find out about other peeps? Maybe I do need to be psycho-analysed.) The crows were messed up. I wanted to BBQ them.

RayHaisa: You make my story seem like soup - "The plot thickens". Hehehe. Where's the bread for dunkin'?

Alenor: Paul haunting her in the shower? Excuth me? Where did that come from? You worry me. All of you. Haha. I may just have to use that idea though..... Lol.

Also, thanks again to everyone who's STILL reviewing and reviewed Where's Jesse's VPL? - you guys rock! Haha. Your reviews make me laugh.

AND, I'm thinking of posting a 1800-Where-R-U story. BUT, I will post the first chappie ONLY (I have written 3) and if I get ok reviews, then I will post the rest. So, please can you like, sample it and post your HONEST reviews? (The first chappie is REALLY weird - I was slightly drunk, lol. Can you really blame a girl?)

I think that's it. I wonder if any of you actually read these bits? Or are you all too selfish and only read your acknowledgements? I feel so used... HA! Or not. You guys rock my pretty pink socks off.

ENJOY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! ACK ACK ACK! Furball...


Needless to say, I left Paul's house pretty sharpish after that.

Can you blame a girl? His grandpops had just told me that in trying to save Paul's life, I would be sacrificing my own.

I wasn't gonna be sticking around the object of my untimely death for much longer after that, I can tell you.

So I walked home slowly, my mind not really on the walking or the journey back. I was about twenty minutes away from Paul's glass house when he appeared beside me.

My death dressed in Lacoste and smelling of sophisticated man. Only instead of the scythe, he was holding my book bag.

"Forget something, Cinderella?"

I made a silent grab at the bag, and he let me take it. "I was talking about the prince," he said, taking back my bag and resting it on his shoulder.

"I didn't see my Prince Charming and I really don't do balls," I said neutrally, concentrating on not limping into any poison ivy.

"I'm pretty sure I could help you with that. I know a real good way of making you do balls," he whispered.

"Paul!" I screeched, maybe a little higher than I would have liked. But, come on! He was talking about men's dangly bits! I have fully not reached that stage with my mother yet, I'm not about to discuss it with the living Testosterone. "Do you have to turn everything I say into a foul innuendo? Just because you have no ethical morals, doesn't mean all of us are as uninhibited as you!" I hobbled a little faster.

Yeah, like I could out-limp a tall hunk of pure muscle and long legs.

"Sorry. I just become a big piece of raging hormones whenever you're near me."

"Oh good. Nice to know you're not like this with every woman. Makes me feel a lot better," I snapped. I don't know why. Maybe because I was feeling a little uneasy walking with the reason I may be ending my life very soon?

Unfortunately, Paul noticed my rather abrupt mood too. "Jeez, Suze. What did my grandpops say to you when you were gone?"

"Nothing," I said. When really it wasn't nothing at all. And it was playing inside my head over and over again.

"Sure, Suze. That's why your tense as hell and scared out of your wits."

I stopped in my tracks. "I am not scared out of my wits," I scoffed. Cos I wasn't. Just because I knew I was going to die a little sooner then expected, didn't mean I was scared!

Paul took advantage of my stand-still by grabbing hold of my arms. "Suze, come on. Just tell me. I want to help." And I believed him. It was a shame there was nothing he could actually do to help.

I stared helplessly up at him, my mind in turmoil. I could tell him...but he'd feel guilty. Or maybe he wouldn't? Maybe he's just stare in my face and go, "So?" in which case I wouldn't help him and would instead feel like a murderer the rest of my life.

But was it better to feel like a murderer, or like the victim of a murder? Ooh, tough choice. And there's no over-excited audience to help me out, either. Where was the wheel of fortune when you needed it?

Paul grinned. "You wouldn't believe how cute you are when you confused."

I promptly did something that to this day I am very ashamed of doing:

I broke down into tears.

Seriously. One minute I was standing up and gazing into Paul's face in confounded anguish, the next; I was collapsing in a sobbing heap towards the ground.

If it hadn't been for Paul's snatch of me into his chest, I would've most likely obtained yet another serious injury.

He pulled me against him and stroked my hair as I left my snot and salt-water mark on him. "Jesus, Suze, just what the hell did that crazy old geek say, anyway?"

But I couldn't very well tell him, could I? Not when he was being so nice to me. I didn't want him to feel responsible and guilty for my death. And at the same time, I didn't want to feel responsible and guilty for his death.

Yet, I doubt either of us actually wanted to die. I knew I didn't. So of course Paul wasn't going to want to die either. I mean, he had a much better chance at living than I did anyway. He had a chance to actually be something. He was smart and good-looking and didn't let ghosts ruin his life.

"Do you want to live a long and fruitful life?" I asked in between hysterical sobs. How embarrassing. I jus couldn't stop. And they weren't normal sobs, either. They were big, gulping, sniffing, howling sobs. The kind that strongly resembled a dozen foghorns being blared successively.

If Paul was taken aback by my seemingly random question, he didn't show it. He just continued to soothe me with his hair-stroking and calm voice.

"As long as I have the right person to share it with, then yes."

Well, okay then. In that case I could just persuade Paul that he was never going to find the right person to share it with. Then he would surely not want to live.

"What if you never find the right person?" I sniffled.

"I already have," he whispered.

If that was supposed to be a comfort, it wasn't. I howled with even more passion this time and clung to front of his sweater. This meant if I killed myself for Paul's life, he wasn't going to want it anyway!

Which meant he was going to have to let himself die! Excellent! I'm saved!

Then why was I still crying harder than ever?

Eventually I stopped. Crying, I mean. I looked up at him with big, round, tearful eyes and asked, "What would you do if I said I had to die?" I didn't think I should add the "to save you" part just yet. I wouldn't want him to break down and cry like I had just done because he was going to lose me.

This time, Paul did look taken aback. "Why would you have to die?" He asked.

"No reason," I said, looking down at the pavement and scuffing my sneaker on it.

"Dammit, Suze, what's going on? You're really starting to freak me."

Just you wait til I've finished freaking you out. Then you'll regret ever asking that question, I thought bitterly.

"Okay. The good news is: I know how to save you. In a roundabout way."

Paul nodded solemnly. "And the bad news?"

I took a deep breath. "One of us will either commit suicide saving you, or will commit homicide saving you."

I looked up at Paul and saw him staring down at me. His breathing had slowed and he looked scarily blank-faced.

"Paul?" I asked timidly. "You are still alive right? Otherwise this whole me-dying-to-save-you thing might just be a bit of waste of time."

Paul gripped my arms, hard. I kinda gasped at the shock of it. "What? What did you just say? You-dying-to-save-me thing? What thing?"

Might I add that all the while Paul was rambling this off, he was also shaking me really hard?

"Paul, Paul!" I put my hands on his shoulders and squeezed them. "Stop shaking me," I said slowly, like a teacher when she or he is telling off a child in the gentlest way.

Paul stopped but he proceeded to pull me into him in a firm, tenacious hug. "I am not letting you die," I whispered vehemently into my hair. I didn't think now was a good time to tell him that he really didn't have a choice in the matter.

But all of this did confirm one thing for me: God does actually hate me. As soon as I was up there I was going to be having a few words with the big guy, Himself.

First though, I had to deal with the people on earth. Foremost: Paul.

"Tell me everything he said. Everything," Paul said viciously. I don't think he quite believed me.

"Your grandpa said that I have to "think of the basics – the simplicities of the ordeal" and then I have to reverse it. I have to fill that void with what you're missing. And then he said that it may just be the death of me."

He said it so casually. Anyone would have thought he wanted me to die. Maybe I should have listened to the crazy old coot when he told me to stay away from his grandson.

Paul held me in place with a sharp blue-eyed gaze. He looked hopeful. "He said it may be the death of you."

This wasn't all that comforting.

"Yes. May. That's still not quite the same as, "Suze will not be risking herself any physical or mental harm at all, ever." Because that would be great."

"You're not going to die, alright? I'm not gonna let you. We'll figure out how to do this without killing you."

"Well, the only other option is that we kill you. And I'm not a murderer. I totally don't suit those orange jumpsuit thingies."

Paul looked amused. "I'm pretty sure they don't actually have to wear those, you know."

I gave him my bitch-look. "Oh, and that makes up for the fact there aren't any Kate Spade catalogues or Jimmy Choos? Not to mention I won't be able to wear my new Bobbi Brown stay-put lip liner?"

"Why would you need stay-put lip liner? It's not like I'll be in there."

It took me a while to figure this out. After all, he was, more often than not, the reason my lip liner gets smudged. Him and his soft, cushiony lips.

But now was not the time to be thinking of that. It didn't help, though, that he was standing so close to me.

"I need to get home," I said definitively. "I have to think about our predicament."

Paul crouched slightly so his eye level was the same as mine. "It's my predicament. Not ours, definitely not yours. Mine." I swallowed and nodded. If only he wasn't being so nice and kind about all of this. He was basically giving himself us to the slaughterhouse.

He really must love me.

Poor guy. I suppose this isn't what people mean when they say things like, "I love you so much I might die." Usually then they mean their heart might burst it's so full of love. Not that their heart might completely stop because they give up all their life trying to save another. Because that's just unromantic. In a romantic kinda way.

"I'm going to walk you home now, okay?" He gave me a nervous smile.

"Are you sure that's a good idea? I mean, what if-"

Paul's smile turned dry. "Neither of us are going to suddenly drop dead just bu hanging with each other, Suze. I'm pretty sure we actually have to do some work like my grandpops said."

He had a point. I just wasn't too sure I wanted company. Being told you have to kill yourself to save someone else doesn't' exactly put you in a festive, social mood, you know?

Plus I wasn't too sure how Jesse was going to take the news. I knew he never liked Paul, but I got the feeling this might just push him over the edge. I'm pretty sure Jesse wouldn't mind murdering Paul – instead of me doing it – so that I could carry on respiring and pumping blood around my body.

We were pretty silent on the walk home. Well, we weren't exactly eager, all of sudden, to find out how to cure Paul when the consequences seemed so dire – even more dire than having Paul back with us, full-bodied.

I'm not normally a girl who likes ultimatums, and this one proved my reluctance to start. Liking them, I mean. "Die or kill the (other) guy who loves you" doesn't exactly inspire me to do much, at all.

I wanted to go home and sleep and wake up with this all being a weird and wacky dream. Obviously I'm still growing into my mature mind. And I had a lot of growing to do.

It was like that Michael Cain film, The Swarm. When all the killer bees are wreaking havoc and – surprise, surprise – killing off the Texan population, and there doesn't seem to be much hope. That's what it was like. Those first minutes after the doctor tried an antidote to the bee's venom, and it doesn't work. That's exactly what it was like. All hope is lost and the bees are still coming. Only they've been slowed down because of a cold, Alaskan front trapping them in the Texas region. But everyone knows it's only a matter of time until that Alaskan weather fades and those bees are heading out towards the big cities.

The Alaskan front in my story is that we have no idea how to even begin to save Paul.

But that would soon fade. And then: it was kill or be killed time. Those bees are coming. At least it's not flying poison ivy, or something like that.

When we got to my house, I murmured a brief good-bye and practically ran up to my house. I know, not exactly the move of a gracious host or anything. But still. I really needed some alone time.

I sat on my bed and stared off into the distance. Okay, not really the distance considering my wall is only like five foot from the end of my bed, but you get the idea. Dr. Slaski's words just kept going round and round in my head.

"Fill that void with what he's missing."

Just what was missing? A month ago I would've said his mind. Paul did seem like the crazy guy you get in all the movies.

But now I wasn't so sure.

He was always going on about missing my love, missing me. How I was I supposed to fill that void? Jump into him through his mouth, or something? Maybe just my tongue would do...I've filled that void often enough, if you know what I mean.

No. I'm pretty sure I wasn't that void.

"..think about the basics." Well,Paul was semi-dead.

"The simplicities of the ordeal." Paul's life had been half stolen from him.

"And then reverse it." Give Paul back his life.

"...it may just be the death of you." How did that fit in? To reverse it...I would have to give Paul back some life. Half of some life, to be exact. So how was that...

Uh oh.

Uh oh.