Disclaimer - The Mediator belongs to Meg Cabot and the song to Shania Twain.
Rating - K+
Summary - Suze/Jesse fluff. Set after Twilight. Suze's wandering thoughts about life and love are interrupted by an impromptu dance with Jesse in the kitchen . . .
A/N - Okay, one hour ago I wasn't sure what I was going to write. Now I'm done, I'm really happy with it. I hope you enjoy. Please review. :)
Dedication- To I want to be Jesse's girl who has just written one of the BEST Mediator fanfics - 'Time Heals All Wounds'! If you haven't read it, then go now! I hope you like this one, hun. :) Hugs and love aplenty!
The Woman In Me
Standing at the kitchen counter preparing a dinner more than likely to turn out to be a disaster, I let the last strands of the music filling the kitchen change and move on to another. Only half my mind on my task of chopping up tomatoes. I'm not really a big Shania Twain fan. But somehow the CD got into my collection and I only found it when I started to unpack when I moved in with Jesse, a couple of months ago. Three blissful months of living in sin with sexy Jesse De Silva. My lips quirked at the thought. I know Father D wasn't happy about it. But after everything we've been through, I couldn't care less. I know it's just his not-so-strict faith shining through.
'I'm not always strong. And sometimes I'm even wrong. But I win when I choose; and I can't stand to lose . . .'
Without conscious thought, I started swaying and humming along to the soft tune. A girl could get used to this, I thought dreamily. Preparing dinner for a jaw-dropping, handsome man who just so happens to share my bed too. Since the day Jesse opened his eyes and said one simple word, my life has been a breeze. Sure we get the odd ghost that tests my patience and makes me want to knock their teeth down the back of their throat. But that's what I've got Jesse for. My anchor who keeps me grounded. I'll take on anything so long as I get to keep Jesse with me for the rest of time. I'll even turn totally domestic for him.
'But I can't always be, the rock that you see. When the nights get too long, and I just can't go on . . .'
Glancing at the clock on the microwave I wondered where he was while I danced across to the fridge. When we told everyone we were moving in together, they all thought it would go wrong. My mom gave her patented, 'Susie are yousure,' talk. Brad laughed and tried to bet with anyone who would listen that we wouldn't make it a month. Gina thought it was a great idea; especially when she pointed out she'd have somewhere cheap to stay when she comes visit. And you already know Father D's reaction. But I don't get what all the fuss was about. I've lived with Jesse before. So he was still a ghost and I was pining for him when he wasn't looking. But Jesse and I know something they don't . . .
We're meant to be together.
'The woman in me, needs you to be. The man in my arms, to hold tenderly . . .'
I didn't think I could be any crazier in love with him. How is it possible that my eyes fill with tears when he tells me he loves me? Not in a careless throw it out there kind of way. I mean truly saying it with every conviction. Or for my heart to skip a beat every time he looks at me with a look so loaded, it's like I'm seeing the rest of forever there already. Just to have his arms wrapped around me when we kiss or just for a hug. The way they hold me in just the right way that I feel invincible. Like nothing can get me. Because that is the kind of love I feel for Jesse. The kind you can't describe; can only feel. How did I get so lucky?
'Cause I'm a woman in love. And it's you I run to. Yeah the woman in me, needs the man in you . . .'
I tossed the salad I'd been slowly preparing into the bowl; still swaying in time to the music. My mind capturing an image of Jesse the day we moved in. Carrying the heavy box up the stairs and in to our room like it weighed nothing. As soon as he'd put the box down, he swept me up into his arms instead, kissing me in a way that made me cling to him. Did I ever cling to Paul when he kissed me? I absently wondered. There's no denying Paul's a great kisser. And he knows it. But his hands never held me like I would fall apart in his arms. Or kiss me with the kind of tenderness I wanted. He was just . . . there. Jesse's kisses are . . . breathtaking. Knee-jerking. Heart-thumping and perfect. Especially when he'd gently set me down on the bed and kissed me a little more thoroughly. It would have been a great moment if David didn't interrupted us.
'When the world wants too much, and it feels cold and out of touch . . .'
I was just about to move over to the sink when I felt his hands on my hips, stalling me from swaying. I tensed for a fraction of a second before relaxing. My hands dropping the knife and chopping board back to the counter and gripping his hands when they wound around to rest on my stomach, his chest pressed against my back. There was once a time I would have said I hated surprises. Especially the ghostly kind. But Jesse's surprise of sneaking up on me, made me love them all over again. I let my head fall back to his shoulder when he brushed a light kiss to the pulse on my neck, just below my ear. His breath blowing across my skin. "Querida," He murmured huskily.
"Jesse," I sighed back, a smile dancing on the corners of lips.
'It's a beautiful place, when you kiss my face . . .'
I let him turn me around in his arms, his rough palms sliding up and under my top to splay against the hot skin of my back. My hands skimmed up his arms and across his shoulders to rest at the back of his neck. There was barely room to breathe between us we were standing so close. I traced the lines and plains of his ruggedly handsome face. Lingering on the smooth white scar through his eyebrow before dropping my gaze to his. His eyes darted to my parted lips before he dipped his head to capture them. His thin lips pressing against mine with enough urgency that I couldn't help but return the quick kiss. When he pulled away, he pressed his head to mine; taking in a deep breath.
"Susannah . . . Dance with me?" He asked, already stepping back with me to the center of the kitchen.
"Yes . . ." I sighed, letting him lead me.
'The woman in me, needs you to be; the man in my arms, to hold tenderly . . .'
I swayed with him to the slow rhythmic lull of the song, laying my head to his shoulder and closing my eyes. It's so Jesse to just suddenly take me in his arms and slow dance with me; in the kitchen of all places. But I wasn't complaining, because it felt too good to touch the hard muscle of him against me, my hand feeling the steady beat of his heart and his hands sliding up and down to around my waist in a slow and tantalising caress while we danced. Since the Winter Formal, Jesse's gotten really good at slow dancing. Enough to make me wish I could just blot out the world and stay like that instead. Just let the music breeze around us. Who says we need any more than that?
'Cause I'm a woman in love. And it's you I run to. Yeah the woman in me, needs the man in you . . .'
The words of the song finally filtered in and I grinned. I'd be kidding myself if I said I didn't need Jesse. I'm starting to think I need him like I need air to breathe. I'm more dependent on him than anyone realises. But not in a weepy, damsel-in-distress kind of way. I just need him with me. I need his silent look encouraging me when I'm dealing with a pain-in-the-ass spirit. I need his hand squeeze mine when I'm faced with something I can't fight my way out of. I need his smile to make me realise it could be a lot worse than whatever it is I'm dealing with at the time. I need Jesse as much as he needs me. When no-one else is around, it's like nothing exists. It's just us.
With my scars and flaws . . . And his dreams and confidence . . .
'Yeah the woman in me, needs the man in you . . .'
The song tapered off slowly and Jesse pulled me to a stop. With a little whine I lifted my head off his shoulder, opening my eyes to gaze up at him. "Did we have to stop?" I pouted, softly stroking his hair through my fingers. He chuckled, capturing my face with one of his large hands and removing my pout and replacing it with his smirk. I pressed myself closer to him, inhaling his scent and shivering at the feel of his fingers across my lower back. I sighed with pleasure; my knees turning to jelly when his tongue dipped to caress mine, deepening the kiss and taking me to new heights Paul had never been able to lift me.
We broke away breathlessly, my eyes blinking open slowly. He had a smug grin at my slow reaction and I slugged him in the arm lightly. But he only laughed, capturing my wrist to turn me so my back was pressed against him, when I went to swing for him again. "We have para siempre to dance, querida." He pressed a kiss to my cheek and then my temple before nuzzling my neck with his stubbly chin. I squirmed and giggled from the ticklish feeling. Tugging his arms closer around me, I tipped my head back and looked up at him.
"Okay, Jesse," I smiled, lifting a hand to cup his cheek. "Whatever you say, hon."
He gave me a wink before he let me go and got back to our dinner. Picking up where I left off. I stood there, watching him move around the kitchen with confidence. I knew I had a dopey look on my face. But again, I didn't care. I just watched him unabashedly. I've got everything I need. A great home and a busy social life – If you can call ghosts social. And a sexy man to come home to. The woman in me doesn't need any more than that.
I just happen to be the luckiest woman alive, who has it all.