Disclaimer: The Mediator belongs to Meg Cabot.

Rating: M – adult scenes, cussin' and violence.

Summary: Multiple POV's. Stuck in witness protection with a bodyguard she can't stand; the perspective of where the real danger lies soon starts to blur for Suze. Causing time to run out and both threats of Jesse and her potential killer to dawn closer each day...

A/N: This is the result of a personal challenge to myself. But after going over it more than enough times, I've just decided to stick it up. It's been sitting in my documents for months, and now I'm biting the bullet and going for it. So thank you so much for checking it out. I'd love it if you review and make me as proud of this fic, than I already am :) Peace!

Big thank you to LossOfSurroundings. . . she know why :)

Conflicting Danger

Running along the beach, I could feel and see my breath rushing out before me with little warm bursts of air. The cold chill of the morning was clinging to my damp hair. Sweat trickled down the back of my neck and temples, seeming like ice quickly melting from my warm and flushed face. My heart was keeping a steady rhythm, even with the pace I was at. The soft sand beneath my sneakered feet tried to offer resistance, but I was too determined not to break my stride. Little grains were getting dislodged and shot up behind me in the process. Shifting underneath my heavy weight as I ran with all I had. Like the very demons of myself were on my trail, licking and pinching at my heels. Coming one step closer each time I nearly let myself falter.

The drone and beat of the rock music I liked to listen to while I run was beating in my ears. Continuing to help keep my breathing and pace under control. I couldn't hear the crashing of the waves beside me as I ran parallel to them. I get more of a workout and run here, than anywhere else. With the music as a distraction from my flyaway thoughts. My morning ritual of running along the beach when I wasn't on assignment is a familiar and missed routine in the past few months. I ran my life by routine for so long, it was hard to dislodge the age old haunt. But letting myself become complacent and quiet, wasn't an option to me anymore. I need action and a rush.

The beach is empty as I run a marathon sprint along the sand. The sweat mainly brought on by the added layer of clothing I was wearing. Otherwise, I hardly lose a breath. I've run longer distances with weight carried twice my own before. This was nothing but a standing tradition I was reluctant to break free from. The sun had barely started rising over the horizon, but the day started a while ago for me. As soon as I open my eyes, there's no going back into an endless murky nightmares. I run until the sun has risen above the edge of the water. A beacon in the sky and a light in my life, I never take for granted.

Eventually I pulled my sprint to a dull jog. Pulling over and running along the soft sand until I reached my own house. A place with a private beach and plenty of solitude. If I wanted company I could easily drive into town. Take in the local sights and fair. Have a drink in the bar full of people who have known each other for decades. Where I always try not to stand out as much as I do. Not wishing for company to join me in my quiet. On the occasions I wouldn't be working on assignment; I would have the odd game of Poker with the local sheriff. Joined by some acquaintances I've met over the years since I moved to my corner of the world. On good terms with the local law, based on our similar back-grounds and history.

Sometimes I'd feel a little braver and branch out to go to the local bar and try my hand at a couple of rounds of pool. Going up against the next person offering me an unbeatable challenge. I can feel the burning eyes of patrons curious of me. Some leave me alone, while others get confident enough to really question me. I know they're all wondering of my quiet behaviour and solitude in such a small town. I don't speak to them anymore than I really need to though. Politely brushing off a female's attention and tries to get me to notice them. Some more persistent than others.

But I never take an interest in them. Turning away from their heavily made up eyes and under-dressed clothes. I don't have the life, or the luxury of being in a committed relationship. And the idea of a casual acquaintance or one night stand hasn't been my style for quite some time. I had more of a reputation when I was younger and serving in the Marines. But relationships get broken and burnt with the line of work I specialise in. I wouldn't do that to them, or to myself.

But I'm well aware of what some of the locals say about me. Cold, reclusive and brash, Jesse De Silva. I'd personally call myself lucky, private and un-tameable.

I come to a stop at the back door of my house. My feet planted apart while I lean down to rest my hands on my knees. Taking in a deep lungful of air. Smelling the crisp dawn and promise of a new day. The gulls flying above the land, searching for a hungry treat. I can taste the grittiness and spray on my lips, no doubt clinging to my hair and skin. My breath is still coming out in little puffs of air but I don't pay it any mind. I'm too caught in trying to banish the bitterness my thoughts had brought to me. Of the past I had left behind, but see everyday around me. Annoyed that I'd let my thoughts wander even for a second. Reminding me why I hated being on sabbatical.

Through with my memories I pulled myself up straight. Stomping the sand off the bottom of my shoes and pulling them off to wait on the decking. Rapidly cooling down, I finish my stretches on my already overused muscles. Flexing and rotating to stop the cramp likely to set in if I don't. My stiff shoulder from an old wound already aches from the chill of the air. And I rotate it just to feel the pain again. It doesn't take me long to finish and I finally pull my earphones out of my ears. Letting the sound of the waves wash over me as the background of my music still rumbles through the air. I know I shouldn't listen to it so loud. Hearing is one of my senses I rely on the most for my field of work. It comes with a natural instinct to danger. But it hasn't stopped me yet.

Pushing open my wooden and rickety back door, the panes of glass rattling slightly, I step into my minimalistic and basic kitchen. Leaving the door wide open to allow the breeze from the ocean to circulate through my home. I'm well aware on just how unsafe my house is. It's open and vulnerable to anyone with any courage and foolishness to try and invade it. There's no alarm system. No trip wires or silent warnings. The doors are never locked, with nothing to keep my house or the few belongings I have strewn around it safe from an intruder. I've never thought of investing in anything like that. I have enough training and skill to protect it myself just fine. And no-one would be brave enough to around here.

Sheriff Comber has often said it needs a woman's touch. But he knows as well as I do, that isn't going to happen. I had my chance once before and I let her slip me by. I wasn't going to make the same mistake again.

Shaking my head of my thoughts, absently trying to rid myself of my black mood seeming to come over me, I made my way over to the fridge. Grabbing the first bottle of water I saw. Just as I was unscrewing the bottle lid, I heard the door to a car closing loudly from the front of my house. I don't stop in my task, nor do I go to the front windows to see who it is. Instead I stay surveying the contents of my fridge and contemplating making myself an omelet when the brisk but powerful knock comes to my door. For a minute I thought about letting them stand there, receiving no answer. But the thought that came before that one, reminds me that the visitor must know something of me to come knocking at such an early time.

And while I was supposed to be on sabbatical.

Biting back my sigh and curse before I let them out, I schooled my expression and took an amble walk down to my front door. Unlocking and swinging it open just as the man on my porch is raising his fist to knock again. His shaggy blond hair falling into one of his eyes while he pulls himself ramrod straight up before me. Dressed in a designer suit, I picture him with a pair of long shorts, propped next to a surf board. He'd look more comfortable, I muse. His blue eyes glint back at me in slight irritation. But I don't move from my position blocking the way into my house.

"'About time you answered the door," Lance Andrew's bit out, glaring at me. "I haven't got all day and it hasn't even begun yet, for crying out loud." I let his gruff tone go over my head. On a normal day he wouldn't look so uptight and pensive. Which means just like the suit suggests, that he was here on business terms. But instead of standing back and allowing him in, I stand with my arms crossed over my chest and glare back.

"I'm supposed to be on sabbatical," I retort, ignoring his snipe. "Orders from the powers-that-be themselves. So what makes you think I'm particularly happy to find you here myself, Lieutenant?"

"Don't call me that," He instantly replied. His voice dropping several octaves. He was Lieutenant Lance Andrew's before I met him. Serving the US Air Force before he was medically discharged and hung out to dry. At least until the agency I work for myself picked him up. Putting him and his brilliant tech skills to good use once again. Offering the chance of the thrill of the job, without the strict rules and regulations I too found myself hating with time.

But he's never liked being referred to by his old rank, since. It raises his hackles just as much as my own would have done.

Now we both work for the private agency - Reidman Security and Recovery. And Lance has found something more appetising and productive to do with his time. Getting pulled out of his thunk he'd found himself in, a little under two years ago. Staying on board with us and working alongside the F.B.I. and others when asked. Doing what's done best. Being the second hand ready to deliver and who are prepared to take the risks, others are too afraid for. The thrill of the chase and the rush of the danger in every mission and assignment we've been recruited to. Getting the chance to travel all over the world with the benefit of working beside the same people you trust with your life.

Just like I was supposed to be doing, before I was put on reluctant and ordered leave for a while. A break that had only been in place for two weeks so far. But I couldn't help the rush of adventure to course through my blood at his sudden appearance. I didn't want to be home, twiddling my thumbs and letting old memories creep back. It wasn't my style or what I would call relaxing. I wanted to be out there, covering my friends' six and doing what I was born to do.

"You going to let me in, or what?" He asked impatiently, but his posture gave nothing of his irritation away. "We're on the clock here, we don't have long," Waiting a few seconds, I continued to stand there. Before I stood back and let him walk past me and into my home. I let my eyes sweep up and down the road before I closed the door. Taking in everything I needed within seconds. "Nice place you got here." Lance commented as he walked down to the kitchen. His own eyes taking in the spartan and uncomfortable home.

"What's the job?" I questioned, moving past him and into the room. Taking up my opened bottle of water again, suppressing the wince at the pull on my shoulder. "And what's the urgency?"

"We got a case Boss needs you on," He said, getting down to business quicker than I would have thought him able. He may have been thrown from his career, but he didn't let them dampen his spirits or his personality any. Only seeing him so tense was making prickles of unease crawl my own spine. "You're the best we got for this case. Everyone else is either on a mission or not good enough for Boss. We got the call late last night from Agent Ballack," He paused, watching my face for any change of expression. I didn't give him one. "He has a witness needing to be kept in one of our most secure safe house's and pronto. The information she's got is too important for anything to happen to her."

I sensed a 'but' in his tone.

"Why don't you just put her in Witness Protection?" I asked eventually.

"Because she won't go," He said, sounding irritated. "She's adamant she's not having a new identity or anything. She's refusing to co-operate, no matter how long it might take for her to be able to go back to a normal life again."

"What and who is she being kept from exactly?" I asked, tired of going around the houses and not getting straight to the point.

"She witnessed her roommate get shot in front of her. She saw the killer and he knows it. Somehow she managed to get away from him and his goons, but not before they gave chase and came close to catching her. Point is it's someone the F.B.I has been after for a while. And they need her kept as safe as possible, until he's caught and put to trial. They lose her, they lose the guy."

"Who's the guy?" I asked. He obviously wasn't going to tell me without some prodding. I watched curiously as he swallowed and cringed slightly. It must have been someone notorious in order for Lance to become so uncomfortable.

"Steven Carson," He muttered eventually. I let the name sink in and all the information that came with him. Drug's lord and money launderer. He was pretty much running the underworld when it came to drugs. His 'empire' as he liked to call it, was notorious and hard to find secure evidence on. Each time the F.B.I thought they had him, he managed to counteract it and they were right back to where they started again. He was obviously getting sloppy if he managed to let the victim get away.

But it didn't mean he wasn't still dangerous. He had more power than anyone was comfortable admitting. He wasn't just a notorious drug's lord. He was also the main suspect, for countless murders across California and many other states previous. He didn't always carry them out himself. Most of the time he got some other fool to do it. But every now and again, he would step up and take it into his own hands. But again, it wasn't easy pinpointing it on him. Due to the witnesses' usually disappearing with no trace left behind. No matter how safe they might have been.

But this new case seemed to be the supreme exception.

I took in everything Lance told me, before nodding in understanding. This wasn't the first baby-sitting job the agency had put me on. As uneventful as it might sound, the danger is just as equally high as any other mission I might be sent on. As secret and need-to-know as these safe houses were, there was always someone willing to pay good money to someone who would leak the right information. And the only thing standing between the killer and potential victim; was me. And anything was better than having nothing to do.

"When do we leave?" I asked, ready to get started as soon as possible. Hoping my eagerness wasn't that easy to see. No matter how much I tried to rein it in. My black mood was lifting slightly with the anticipation of a new case. Lance glanced down and checked his watch, frowning at the time already lost.

"As soon as you get your butt moving," He replied. "Like I said, we're on the clock. Agent Ballack's getting his panties in a twist at the delay as it is. But Boss wouldn't have anyone else on the team but you. Said you're the only one with the patience and willpower." I was starting to make my way towards my room, when his words stopped me short. I turned back to him in question. Picking up on his humoured tone. "She's a spitfire this one, Jesse. You might want to watch yourself." He smirked.

I grinned in return, turning my back to him and continuing to my room. Calling over my shoulder before I disappeared. "I think I can handle her," I heard Lance laugh in answer. I knew I should have probably been irritated my 'vacation' had been interrupted, however much I didn't want to take it. But I wasn't. Something told me this case was going to be different from others.

And I grinned in anticipation.

xXx

"Miss Simon?"

I ignored the nasal voice of the officer or agent who was addressing me. He made my name sound so grotesque. Like I was the one who had done something wrong. Like I had been the one who fired the gun and killed my friend. And taking any sense of normalcy and life I had right up until that moment with it. Taking my fate and shoving it into the hands of these clowns surrounding me. Watching them juggle and mix it around with each cycle. What did he know anyway? He wasn't the one sitting in an unfamiliar room, full of complete strangers, waiting for them to decide what they were going to do with me next.

"Miss Simon," The annoying man said again. I could feel my hands clenching into fists around my legs pulled up to my chest, with my head buried in my knees. Listening to all their rushed and excited voices around me. Some rising over others. Some whispering quietly. I knew they weren't directly talking about me. But the paranoia that had been starting to trickle in since I put myself in their 'capable' hands was still eating at me. "Are you okay? Can I get you anything? Is there anything we can do to make you more comfortable?"

'Yeah, turn back time and stop all this from happening,' I acidly thought. But I held my tongue somehow. The urge to sink my clenched fist into his face, just to relieve some pent-up grief and frustration was so strong, it was almost like I was looking at myself from an outsiders view.

"No," Was all I answered with instead. My tone must have sounded more threatening then I realized, because it wasn't even seconds before the man swiftly left me to wallow in my self-pity and burning hate.

I didn't like it here. I didn't like not knowing what was going on. What they were planning on doing with me. I made my objections to go into witness protection quite clear; over my dead rotting corpse. There were lots of reasons I refused. But I wasn't going to tell them. So the only other option they had left was to put me into protective custody. I knew they only offered me the witness protection because it was one less problem for them to have to deal with. Out of sight, out of mind. I wasn't stupid, I got it.

But if they thought I was going to give in and cave; then more fool them. I wasn't giving in for no-one. So they had to use a little more of their resources to keep me safe and alive; that wasn't my problem. Charge it to the tab of the guy who pulled the trigger and started all this mess. I was just an innocent by-stander, much like my friend had been. Only I was luckier and got off with my life.

I bit back the sob that rose in my throat at that thought. I'd been trying to so hard not to break down. Not to show weakness to these brash and unemotional people surrounding me now. They didn't care about me. They only wanted to catch the killer and class it as another case solved. I didn't have the luxury of doing that right now. And until this whole thing was passed - or at least until I was somewhere safe - only then would I allow myself to break down. For Thea, for her family and for the life that was taken so cruelly. And lastly, for myself. I was going to have to go it alone. Just like I've always done. No friends around me to help keep me up. No family on the end of the phone. Not that I would have called them even if I could.

Just myself and a room full of people, prepared to put their life on the line to protect my own.

I didn't know what was worse; seeing my roommate and friend get shot and having to live with the knowledge there wasn't anything I did to help her. Or knowing there were countless people around me right now, prepared to die in a moment's notice too. It was a depressing thought and one I put to the back of my mind instantly. If I started thinking things like that then I really would need to see a psychologist when this was all over. It wasn't in my nature to see the bad in everything. But due to unforeseeable circumstances within the last thirty-six hours, I could already feel the shift.

I didn't hold back the weary sigh this time. My head still buried in my knees. I was too afraid to lift my head and watch what everyone was doing. I felt like I stuck out like a sore thumb, but completely invisible at the same time. And the sudden realization of what was happening around me threatened to come tumbling down on me like a house of cards. There wasn't anything I could do anyway. I would just be in their way. But it was just so frustrating constantly not knowing.

I registered a knock at the door to the room that was swiftly followed by someone calling over the crowded place. I didn't bother looking up at the knock and I didn't bother to look and see who the new people coming into the room were. They'd probably just be another couple of suits anyway. Here to join the fray and constant hub that seemed to be hanging in the air around me. I heard deep voices murmuring together. Some-how coming through to me even with all the other noises. I was too weary to put too much thought into their presence. I hadn't slept since the night before this all started. As much as my body craved sleep, my mind wouldn't shut off. And as soon as I let that guard down, the images and sounds would come back to me again.

I didn't want to relive it. Not yet.

I felt someone step before me, standing and waiting for me to acknowledge them. "Miss Simon, your security detail is here," I squeezed my eyes shut a little tighter. Imagining all sorts of different people I could have been introduced to if I picked my head up. I noticed that the noise level in the room seemed to have dropped around us. That the frantic atmosphere seemed more empty and hollow than before. I didn't know whether to be relieved or terrified.

"Miss Simon," He said again. His tone strained and slightly weary. I shouldn't have given the guy so much hassle. So far he's been the only one who has been remotely concerned or worried about me. The only one who showed any kind of compassion or sympathy towards me. Or was it empathy? Either way, my behaviour towards him now only added to the guilt I was already piling on myself.

Taking a deep breath I opened my eyes and slowly raised my head off my knees. Looking straight into the light brown eyes of Special Agent Will Thompson. His eyes held the smile his face was lacking. It went a little ways to soothing my frazzled nerves and calming me slightly. He was a handsome man. His brown hair was short and styled. And he was definitely what I would call a pretty boy. Not really my type, but I could appreciate a good looking man when I saw one. He'd make someone a good husband, if he wasn't already.

"Yeah," I said in answer. My voice sounded dry and raw. Like I'd been screaming at the top of my lungs.

"The security details that will be with you at the safe house are here." Agent Thompson replied. "As soon as you're ready you'll be making a strategic exit and taken there. Until it's deemed you're out of danger. Okay?"

"But you won't tell me where," I countered. It wasn't a question. It had been made evidently clear I wasn't going to be told anything more than they thought necessary. Which still wasn't much to go on. I just had to do my job. Which was being a good little girl and do what the big bad men in suits told me to do. I probably should have told them I never do as I'm told.

"No," He said, shaking his head. "We can't do that. It's for your own safety, Miss Simon. I assure you, the men who will be with you are the best at what they do. I wouldn't ask for any other. You can trust me and you can trust them. We'll get this case solved as quickly as possible. It won't be like this forever."

"Well," I said, enforcing my voice with as much strength as possible. "I don't exactly have a lot of faith or trust in myself right now, Agent Thompson. So putting my confidence in their abilities isn't something I'm going to be doing anytime soon." I was aware of my sarcastic and biting tone, but I couldn't seem to be able to stop myself before it was out. I watched as Agent Thompson pursed his lips and frowned at my words. The only thing stopping me from throwing my hands in the air in defeat was that I could see he wasn't frustrated with me. He was frustrated at the circumstances that made me so bitter and mean.

I sighed feeling worse than before. "So who is it I'm going to be sharing a house with for the foreseeable future?" I asked, trying to lighten the tense and awkward air that seemed to be a constant lately. It worked, because Will cracked a smile that again, soothed me a little. He gestured for a couple of men who were standing in my peripheral vision, to come over. Suits I had ignored up until that moment.

"This is Lance Andrews," Agent Thompson said, introducing me to a tall man with shaggy blond hair and twinkling blue eyes. He had broad shoulders but looked slimmer, more athletic than most of the agents I'd met over the last few hours. He had laughter lines around his mouth, telling of a relaxed and easy-going personality. "He's the expert on anything technical. He'll be the one surveying all the security equipment built in and around the safe house. He'll also be the back-up for the leader of the team," He paused, gesturing to the man standing next to Lance. "Specialist Jesse De Silva."

I let my eyes rake over the man standing at Lance's side. Where I thought Lance was tall, Specialist De Silva seemed to tower over him. It could have been from where I was sitting, or because of the menacing way he filled out the black suit he was wearing. He had thick broad shoulders and a wide chest that tapered down to a lean waist. His arms looked powerful and strong as he held them at his side, just like his long legs. The tan of his skin stuck out against the crisp white of his shirt. Opened loosely at his throat. Telling of his heritage.

My eyes travelled up to his hair. Noticing how dark and thick it looked. An evident wave running through it. I saw a sliced scar slit through one of his eyebrows, instantly making me curious to how he got it. His facial features made him look like he was chiseled from stone. A strong square jaw and defined cheekbones. A straight nose that led me down to his thin, lilting lips. Turned up minutely at the corners.

His knowing smile at my perusal made my open stare instantly shoot to his eyes. I didn't blush at being caught. Just like I didn't take my hard stare away from his. An electric charge of energy zapped between us, making me shiver. But it was like looking into obsidian stones. Black, cool and unemotional. His expression gave nothing away of what he was thinking. But for his small grin that'd dropped as soon as the electric passed between us. His eyes held a storm I didn't want to be caught in. He looked deadly and dangerous as he handsomely stood before me. The perfect stereotype, for the classic stuck up bodyguard image. I almost rolled my eyes as how predictable it was.

And I disliked him instantly.

"It's nice to meet you, Miss Simon," Lance cut through to me. Making me break my intense staring competition with Specialist De Silva. I looked back to his twinkling baby blues and tried to pull up some semblance of a smile. Failing pretty dramatically.

"You can call me, Suze," I said in reply. If I had to hear someone call me Miss Simon one more time, I really was going to go mad. I wasn't a kindergarten teacher. Which was how it sounded. "Or Susannah if you really have too. But I'd prefer Suze, if it's all the same." He nodded and I turned to look at Jesse. A little more prepared for what might happen this time. Waiting for something from him.

"Susannah," He curtly replied with a brisk nod to me. His voice held the slight hint of a Spanish accent I didn't pick up on properly, until he turned to talk to someone else. Answering my silent question of his tanned complexion. But that was it. He didn't say anything more than that. He looked away from me to talk to Will. Pretty much disregarding me as even there. I clenched my teeth to stop myself cursing. If that was the way he was going to play it, so be it. But Lance smiled almost apologetically for him. "Where's Ballack?" The team leader said.

"Back at HQ," Will replied, taking him and Lance away a little ways. Talking in hushed tones together. Too quiet for me to be able to hear. But Jesse turned and looked at me at one point. Staring at me just as hard as I was staring at him. He seemed to hold my gaze forever. I refused to cave and wither under his black stare. But eventually he turned back to Lance and Will. Gliding back into the conversation effortlessly.

As the men talked around me and discussing the next step, I dropped my head back to my knees. One thought going through my mind as the searing image of my new baby-sitter flashed across my eyes. 'It's going to be a long stay together.'

A/N 2: The next update should be soon! Thanks for reading :) Cookies for all, to celebrate me finally posting it :D