Sunshine418 - Hey Steph! Ha, I'll try and update "When in Egypt..." soon. And no, that was not from actual experience. I've heard worse horror stories, though. LOL. I was feeling bad for poor Spike as I was writing it. And I was gagging when I was writing this chaoter.

seabiscuit0810 - Spikey isn't dead. Yet. Heehee.

BillThePonyLlama - Thanks for the nervous system information. But Spike was, indeed, alive. Well, at the time. Not so much anymore.

tokengirl - Yes, I DO care about grammar. I find it annoying when a person doesn't use grammar correctly. )

Disclaimer: All of the characters you recognize belong to the wonderful Meg Cabot. But SHELLY IS MINE!

Chapter 4

Oh. Shit. Oh shit. SHIT!

FUCK!

Oh, god, Jesse's gonna freak.

That's all I could think about as I was driving to the vet. Jesse. And how he would react to his roadkill of a cat.

Spike wasn't entirely dead yet. But he was bleeding all over my car seat. Luckily, I had a plastic bag in the car.

God, if I saw ONE drop of blood on my back seat, I would kill that cat. Erm, that is, if he wasn't already almost dead.

The drive to the vet wasn't very long. It was about 5 minutes, tops.

I rushed the mutilated cat into animal hospital. The secretary took one look at the thing and was like, "OH MY GOD!".

Then she passed out.

Ha, I'm surprised I haven't yet.

I mean, I guess it was THAT bad.

A few people screamed.

Another secretary that just came in for her shift - and I guess to relieve the one that just passed out - helped the previously passed out secretary. She was fine in a few minutes.

I'm not so sure Spike would be though.

A few veterinarians rushed out of their offices to see what the commotion was. They saw the mangled cat in my arms, took it, and rushed into another room. They told me to remain in the waiting room.

Hey, no objection here. I didn't want to see my boyfriend's maimed cat being operated on.

But the look one of the vets gave me said all I needed to know. Spike was a goner.

When I got over the sick feeling in my stomach, I retrieved my cell phone from my bag. Not the plastic bag - that was completely soaked with blood - which I know SOME people might have been thinking, since that was the last bag I last referred to. But the one I am referring to now is my purse. Except, I really don't like calling it a purse. It was one of those bags that you slip over your head and let it cross across your chest. Aren't they called messenger bags?

GOD, I was thinking about my frigging BAG, when I'm supposed to be calling my boyfriend to let him know that his cat is practically DISMEMBERED!

So I dialed his cell number. He might be on break from his night shift.

"Hello, querida," Jesse said after the phone rang two times.

"Uh, hi, Jesse," I said, as calmly as I could.

But, him being Jesse, he detected the waver in my voice.

"Susannah, is something the matter? You can tell me, querida, whatever it is," he told me.

I sighed.

God, this is going to be horrible.

"Jesse, yes, there is something wrong. Its...its Spike, Jesse."

"Why? What's wrong with hum, Susannah? Did he hiss at you again?" he joked.

Oh, god. I don't think I can do this.

"Jesse, this is serious. I wish it were only him hissing at me," I tried to tell him in an unwavering voice. No such luck.

"Oh. Then what is it?" he asked, a little nervously.

"Jesse, can you just come down to the veterinary clinic?" I asked him. "I'll explain when you get here."

"Yes, sure," he said, hurriedly, "Goodbye, querida."

And he hung up before I got to say goodbye.

He rushed through the door a good five minutes later. Funny, the hospital was at least fifteen minutes away...

He saw me and sat down in the chair beside me.

"Susannah, what has happened? Where's Spike?" he inquired.

I looked him in the eye. "Oh, Jesse, I don't...Spike may not make it, Jesse."

His eyes widened. "What happened? Is he ill? Has there been an accident?"

"Um, well, I guess there was an accident," I said. I took a deep breath and proceeded to tell him how I found Spike.

"Nombre de dios, querida. That's a lot to deal with in one day," he said sympathetically.

I felt really bad though. I mean, the cat he's grown to know and love just earned the title "Road Kill."

"Susannah, how did this happen?" he asked, exasperated.

"I don't know, Jesse. I guess he went for an evening hunt and a car came and..." I didn't think there was a need for me to continue that statement.

"I see." was all he said. The look on his face was all I need to see.

He was broken.

The look on his face made me want help in any way I could.

There has to be someway to...

Hmm...

Maybe Paul would know?

"Jesse, I'll be right back," I told him and squeezed his hand.

I went outside and called Paul's cell.

"Suze, what's up?" was Paul's greeting.

"Hi, Paul," I replied.

"Is there any specific reason you're calling?" he queried.

"Actually, yes," I answered, "I need a favor."

"What kind of favor?" he asked, seductively.

Eww . . .

"Paul, now's not the time to be thinking with your dick," I advised.

He chuckled. "Okay, Suze, I'll tame him."

Ugh. Guys.

"Paul, this is really serious. I need you to do something for me, okay?"

"Yeah, sure. What is it?"

I told him about Spike and everything that happened so far.

"Let me guess," he said, after I was finished telling him the short version, "you want me to find a way to bring him back to life."

I hate when he does this.

"Yes," I replied.

"Okay, but I need something from you, first . . ." he said.

"PAUL!" I yelled, astonished.

"Just kidding, Suze. Sure, I'll do it for you," he said.

"Oh, thank you, thank you, thank you, so, so, so MUCH," I gushed.

"Jeez, Simon, calm down. It's not that big of a deal."

"I know, I know. But thanks, again," I said, "Oh, and when should we come over?"

"Hmm...well, I'm, uh, kinda busy right now, but you wanna come over when ever you're done over there. As long as its no shorter than a half hour."

"Sure," I replied.

"Okay, well, see ya then. Bye."

"Bye," I said, and hung up.

I went back inside and accompanied Jesse. He looked down.

I guess I don't blame him, though. I mean, his cat is practically dead.

"Susannah?" Jesse said.

He looked at me with a solemn face. This was probably the only time he has showed emotion at a time like this.

"Hmm?"

He smiled a little.

"What am I going to do?" he asked.

I felt so bad. "Jesse, its going to be okay. Everything will turn out alright. I promise," I told him.

He tried smiling again. "But - but how do you know?" he queried.

"Jesse, just trust me. I have a plan," I assured him.

This time he truly, genuinely smiled. "Alright, querida."

After the operation came to an end, a veterinarian came out. He told us that they tried their best, but the injury was just too serious.

Jesse looked at me in a but-you-PROMISED way. I gave him a reassuring smile and said, "Trust me, Jesse," to which he nodded in reply.

The vet asked if we wanted to take the dead, mangled body - well, they said carcass and not so many gross adjectives - home or let them keep it. I said we'd take it.

We did - and it was SO gross. But you gotta do what you gotta do. And, apparently, I gotta bring a dead cat back to life.

We put Spike in another plastic bag that I found. I made Jesse do it, because I was NOT touching a dead animal, especially one as bloody as Spike.

Jesse didn't question me or anything. I knew he had faith in me. I just hope it would last long enough.

We drove over to Paul's place. Still, Jesse asked no questions.

I talked with Paul about it, and he found an incantation thingy that would work.

How'd you like it?

Sorry it took so long to get this chapter up. I kinds forgot about this fic for awhile. Sorry.

Okay, so REVIEW, my lovies.

«Nicole»