Disclaimer – The Mediator belong to Meg Cabot. I'd like to thank her for Jesse though! ;)

Rating – T

Summary – One-shot. After an embarrassing disaster with Jesse, Suze soon discovers that sometimes it just doesn't pay to say yes to your best friend . . .

A/N – I've had the need to write a Jesse is a ghost, Suze is a plonker, fic for a while. And this is the idea that came to mind. It's a bit coo-kie, and OOC but I had fun writing it. :) Plus, I needed the distraction. So I hope you enjoy it! Please review and make my weekend a lot better than it's going to be! *Hugs and love!*

Suze Simon's, How-To . . .

'Suze Simon's, How-To . . .'

I can't believe CeeCee is making me do this, I grumbled to myself, sitting on the ledge of my sink in my very own private bathroom with a notepad perched on my knees. You're probably wondering why I was sitting in my bathroom instead of my perfectly pink, frilly bedroom with purple, forget-me-nots on the border running around the room. Considering there's this thing called a bed in the room which just happens to be incredibly comfortable the last time I checked. Or, you're wondering what this, 'How-to,' list is all about. Well, you can blame my best friend, CeeCee Webb for that stroke of genius. Not! Being the editor of the school's news paper, it's obviously up to her to come up with good, half-decent stuff to read. Other than what they're going to be serving for lunch in the next week. I can see the front page now . . .

Breaking News . . . Corn-dogs for lunch! Unhealthy and bland! Get 'em before you starve!

When I think of it that way, I guess it's not a total bust having to 'contribute' something. But what the hell was I supposed to write about?! That was the question running through my mind from the minute she told me, to the second my detention was over for not paying attention in class - because I was too busy pondering that question. I'm not usually the one to freak out over something as easy as writing some junk - no offence to CeeCee - for the school news paper, forty-five percent of the student populace don't even read! I deal with the dead on a daily - sometime even hourly - basis, for cryin' out loud! This should be a piece of cake, right? Right? Wrong. Because secretly, I'm a closet control freak who hates the thought of someone reading my . . . junk and laughing about it. Really something that doesn't sound fun to me!

So . . . so far, I've rambled on about my school's new paper and the article I'm supposed to be writing, but I haven't gotten around to actually telling you why, I'm writing it in my bathroom and not on my oh-so-comfortable bed, where I've slept many a good night's sleep. Yeah, so maybe I am prevaricating and beating around the bush and any other metaphors I can think of. So what?! You would be to if you knew what's in there waiting for me . . .

Only some six-foot plus, darkly dangerously handsome, Spanish guy with abs to drool over and a soft-spot for an ugly as sin cat with only one ear. A.k.a, Hector de Silva; a.k.a. Jesse - the love of my crap, ghost filled existence. He also doubles as a guy who's saved my life more times than I care to admit or brag about and who happens to have been haunting my house for the past hundred and fifty-years. Ah, yes, there's the rub, right? My hot Latino roommate is dead. Talk about a real date-killer. My life is one big death pun! I can't tell my best friends that I have a crush on a guy - like I'd even use the word crush! It's more than that any-way. I love, Jesse. I didn't expect to. I didn't want to! I just didn't do a hell of a lot to stop myself from falling so . . . deep!

Well, it's kinda hard when the guy has his wash-board abs on show constantly and goes all Latino knight to the rescue on me! Come on, I'm a girl. I have needs! And Jesse smiling all sweetly the way he did before he reached out and stroked my cheek . . . STROKED MY CHEEK, as in a sign of affection . . . met some of those needs. So sue me!

So where does that leave lil ol' Suze Simon, right?

Sitting in my bathroom, chewing the end of a pen while looking down at a note-pad with the title, 'Suze Simon's, How-To . . .' list and nothing else; because my head's in my bedroom with Jesse, imagining a life where's he's not dead and I have an article for my best friend. My future isn't looking too bright, is it? Well, at least I can scratch off working for any kind of paper or magazine as my ambition in life. Four words for an article due in two days weren't looking so good. Neither, I noticed, picking at my nails, were they. Hmm, maybe a polish would help me. What's Jesse's favourite colour? I could paint them his - No! No! Bad Suze! You're not trying to get his attention! Bad!

Ugh, maybe my article should be called, 'Suze Simon's, How-To Stop Day-Dreaming About Your Dead Hot-Roommate . . .' Oh that'd go down a treat. Not!

"Come on, Suze; think, think!" I muttered around my pen, tapping it against my teeth with a click, click. "Forget him; ignore him; it's not going to happen; move – "

"Forget who, Susannah?" Jesse innocently asked strolling into my bathroom uninvited. So my door was wide-open so I could get sneaky-peeks at him every two seconds. But I could have been half-undressed or something! Not that, that would've been a totally bad thing . . . I mused. "Your day-dreaming again, querida," Jesse came to a stop in front of me, wearing one of his patient, slow smiles that made me feel like a dumb-ass. But it sent warmth from the tips of my fingers to the end of my curled toes anyway. He's used to my mind going off in different directions, namely towards him. If he's not used to it by now, then he'll never be. As it was, he just stood with his arms lightly crossed over that loose shirt, pulling it taut and empathizing his tanned, broad - Oh for cryin' out loud, woman! Get a GRIP! No wonder he looks at me funny most of the time. I was probably drooling too!

Subtly checking to see if I was or not - I wasn't for the record! - I forced myself to concentrate and remember what he'd said when he interrupted me. And then I felt the blood rush to my face. Oh crap, what did I say!? Please tell me something that didn't include me saying Jesse and love in the same breath! I searched his expression, trying to see if I had. But I didn't see anything like disgust or fear or, oh I don't know, maybe love or lust or something. Just the same obsidian eyes, model-worthy cheekbones and jaw, chiselled nose, scarred brow -

FOCUS! It's no wonder he looks at me weird, is it?!

"Adam!" I said suddenly, the first guy to pop into my mind. I laughed nervously and shrugged. "Just Adam. I've got to learn to forget Adam as . . . anything more than a friend. Yep, that's it. Because . . . CeeCee likes him and you just don't do that to best friends, you know? Not that I thought there could've been anything between us anyway! Because there wouldn't. I'm still completely free. Uh-huh, no man in my life right now. Just . . . totally free for a guy to make the first move . . ." I trailed off, biting my lip to keep myself quiet. Jesse was cocking his scarred eyebrow in that way that meant he thought I was losing the plot. So I dug out ol' familiar, 'This girl don't care,' attitude and shrugged. "So what'd you want? I'm trying to work here if you hadn't noticed."

He bent his head to look at my note-pad, so close my head swam with dizziness, even closer still when he raised his head, our lips just at the right level to kiss . . .

"You have a title, Susannah," He burst my bubble by saying. "You have been in your bathroom for over half an hour and all you have is that?" He shook his head and stepped back. I completely ignored that little dig. I was too busy feeling bereft of having him so close. How can a ghost smell good? I shook off that insane, probably my imagination thought. I just gave him the perfect opening to kiss me, didn't I? What'd he want me to do - sky-write it for him!? Geez, give a girl a chance!" . . . wants to speak to you. He said it's important."

I blinked, shook my head and blinked again. "Huh?" I very-Brad like asked.

"I said," He repeated with deliberate slowness. "You have a spectral visitor in your bedroom waiting to speak to you. He said it's important."

My eyes widened and I shot a glance to my open bathroom door, not seeing anyone. But Jesse's not a liar - at least, I don't think he is - so I hopped down off the sink, almost bumping into him when I lost my balance. I was still suffering from Jesse dizziness, which just got worse when he reached out and steadied me by holding me by the upper-arms. It was kind of possessively with the way he was looking at me too. His thumbs rubbed over my skin in a way that left my arms on fire. But just as suddenly, he pulled away and left me swaying on my feet. I sagged back against the sink ledge and tried not to grin. Oh yeah, I so get to him too!

At least, I hope that's what it was. I didn't smell did I? Ugh, horrible thought!

"Well why didn't you say so?" I sassed, pushing aside the scary thought and brushing past him for my bedroom with Jesse close behind me.

When I stopped by the bed and saw the guy leaning over my vanity and tweaking his glowing reflection in the mirror, I suddenly had a title for CeeCee's article –

'Suze Simon's, How-To Make Your Dead Crush Jealous . . .' seemed perfect when I took in the guy standing and admiring himself. As far as ghosts go, I haven't exactly had much luck with mediating any hotties. Not before I moved to Carmel and met Jesse anyway. But this guy . . . could be my ticket to Jesse lovin'! He looked about Jake's age and was built like an athlete. His hair was a much lighter shade than Jesse's and shorter. Kind of spiked with gel, I guess. Plus, he had a tattoo down his left bicep of some tribal thing. I know the tribal thing's been done. But this guy was perfect for me trying to at least get some kind of jealous reaction out of my unresponsive room-mate! Thank God he was easy on the eyes!

Throwing my note-book on my bed, I cocked a hip and flicked my hair over my shoulder. Gina would kill me for trying to flirt like that - but I was desperate!

"You asked for me?" I called out lightly, finally making the narcissistic spirit realize he wasn't the only one in the room.

His eyebrows shot up when he clocked me, an appreciative smile creeping across his too-good-looking face. I wanted to turn to Jesse and poke my tongue out in a, 'Ha! See? At least he notices I'm a girl!' But I restrained myself and grinned back. "You're the mediator? Wow . . . This after-life shit's not so bad," He leered. I heard Jesse clear his throat from behind me, stepping forward so he was half-blocking the guy's view of me and felt a thrill race through me. Reaction! Just, not quite the one I wanted. "What, you her keeper?" He asked Jesse, not bothering to wait for an answer before he stepped up to me where I met him half-way and took my hand. "The names, Blake. And you sweetness is . . ."

"Suze," I smiled from under my lashes. I thought I heard a growl coming from Jesse's direction, so I turned to look at him, my brilliant idea of using this guy growing with every second. Okay, so I was winging it. But I knew I'd make an impact eventually! "D'you mind leaving us alone? I think Blake here could do with some . . . one-on-one time," I batted my eyelashes innocently, trying so hard not to break out into girlish giggles. You know, like I do that sort of thing . . . Although at this point, Jesse was acting more my guard-dog than a potential jealous boyfriend. "You don't mind, right? This is my room after-all . . ." I dug in a little harder.

"Yes, Susannah, I do mind in fact. I'm not leaving you here with this . . ." He waved his hand out at Blake, searching for the right word. " – boy." He finally finished, crossing his arms over his chest again. Don't look, don't look! "I am not leaving this room." He repeated, walking to sit on the window seat to prove his point.

I already figured he'd say that, so I tightened my hand on Blake's and twisted to look at Jesse over my shoulder, shrugging carelessly. "Suit yourself. We'll go in the bathroom instead then." I just had time to see the shock and incredulousness of his damn handsome expression before I dragged Blake to the bathroom and closed and locked the door behind us. Like locking it would really keep him out, but it proved a point. I leant up against it, listening out and waiting to see if Jesse would appear or something. But he didn't so I relaxed. Blake still had my hand, so I shook it off and moved away from the door.

"All right, he's the deal," I addressed the good-looking ghost watching me curiously; not saying a word since he first spoke to me. "'Cos I'm tired of being used as the messenger or whatever it is you spirits need around here, I'm going to ask a favor that I deserve," I started, pacing in a circle around him, waving my hand around. I was still winging it and because of that, I didn't see the flaws in my plan. But I was feeling confident! "That guy out there - yeah the one in the nineteenth century get-up. And no, he's not a cowboy so don't even ask him that - just happens to be the love of my life. And you are going to help me make him jealous! So, what'd you say, Blake? Want to make the mediator happy?"

I stopped pacing and waited for him to catch me up. When he looked at me, it was like I'd grown a second head!

"That guy out there . . . The ghost . . . The - whatever he is. You're in love with him?!" He gaped, not looking too good looking with that pose. It wasn't exactly Calvin Klein potential.

Rolling my eyes, I tried to keep my patience in check. "Yes. I'm in love with him. Geez, what's so hard to understand about that?! So he's a ghost . . . what's your point? You're one and it didn't stop you from checking me out a minute ago. Get over yourself. And hey, I haven't told anyone what I just told you, so you better take that to the - err - next life or wherever it is you're going. Or I'll make your life as a ghost very unpleasant, got it?!" I was pointing and poking at him the more vehement I got. By the time I was through, I reckon I could've said jump and Black would've asked how high! It gave me a rush to have that kind of power over him.

"Great, so here's what we're going to do . . . We're going to hang out in here for a while, you know, long enough to seem as if we're making out and all that. Make it believable. Then we're going to go out and see his reaction. Got it? Think you can do that?" I asked, hands on my hips, basically dictating to the guy.

He stared at me like I was going to say something else . . . What'd he want me to write it down for him? How hard was it to understand?

"That's it? That's all you wanna do?" He cocked an eyebrow. But when I shrugged, he smiled. "Okay sure, I can do that." And then he snaked his arm around my waist and suddenly yanked me so I was flush up against him, lowing his mouth to mine. The instant his lips made contact, I went ice-cold all over! I thought I was going to be sick! The next, I was kneeing him in his family jewels and watching him fall to his knees on my tiled floor, his face pinched with pain.

"Ow . . ." He wheezed.

"What'd you expect?" I hissed at him quietly, glaring for all I was worth. It was taking a lot of effort not to squeal, 'Ew, ew, ew! A ghost just kissed me!' There's only one ghost I wouldn't mind that from and it wasn't Blake! "I said make it seem as if we're making out! Not do it!" I helped him back up to his feet and wondered if there was actually a brain in that spiky head of hair of his, or if he really was that chauvinistic! Ironic that he's just the type of guy Jesse's prone to going all cave-men on me about, when here I was, fighting the idiot off while trying to make Jesse jealous! "Look, you gonna play along or not?" I asked, stepping up to the mirror to scrutinize my hair.

"Sure, whatever. I'm in no rush I guess." He shrugged, apparently over the fact I'd just kneed him in the crotch.

"Good. So when we go back out, I'll tell him we sorted out your little problem and you just pretend to like, fade away or whatever. Then come back later and I'll help you for real, when he's not around, capiche?" I asked to his reflection, slightly nervous at the twinkle to his green-blue eyes. He nodded, watching me carefully so I went back to checking myself out.

While I waited for the time to pass, I shook out my hair, running my fingers through it enough to make me look like I'd been doing something, other than talking in here. I was going for the ravaged look. It looked passable. I giggled a few times, loud enough to seem believable. And Blake added some sound-effects of his own, the jerk. By the time I was ready to get out of the too cramped bathroom, I was looking more than ready for our little act, feeling almost triumphant and flushed enough from jumping on the spot a few times.

Jesse looked up the moment I opened the door, his eyes sweeping over me before dangerously narrowing into black slits. I felt another thrill race through me and pretended to try and pat down my hair while Blake grinned all secretively and leant up against the door-frame of the bathroom, watching us both.

"Sorry we made you wait," I said to Jesse, clearing my throat deliberately. "We got a bit," I licked my lips. ". . . carried away."

Jesse's eyes swept between me and Blake, his chin rising speculatively. I've always known Jesse's not a fool, but I was expecting more of a reaction than that?! He slowly stood up from his seat and turned his hard-ass stare on Blake who didn't even seem to flinch under the scrutiny. I suddenly went from feeling triumphant, to my stomach plummeting to my feet. It was my room, so how come I was the one feeling out of place and excluded!? How'd that work?

"So I take it Susannah helped you with your . . . problem?" Jesse asked Blake, breaking the uncomfortable silence that should've involved Jesse going into a jealous rage, or protecting my virtue or some other crap like that. I was getting nothing! There went my idea for a new title . . .

"Not really, we didn't exactly do a lot of talking," Blake answered, which was true, we'd stood in an awkward silence for most of it. And then his words sank in and I spun around to stare at him. He was ruining my plan! Crap, crap and double crap! As if the plan had gone how I wanted it anyway. But that's not the point! He still could've played along! I probably should've asked him what his problem actually is, I suddenly realized, having a very bad feeling settling in my gut that was still sitting at my feet. "It's nothing a phone-call won't sort out. I just need you to get in touch with my girlfriend and tell her to give my favourite Jersey back to my parents. I love her, but I don't want her keeping it." He grinned, suddenly looking like the devil in ghost form.

You could've heard a pin-drop then . . .

I glared at Blake like I could make his smart-glowing-ass burst into flames if I wished it hard enough, and tried not to look at Jesse who I could see from the corner of my eye, suddenly looking a lot perkier. Blake moved from his position at the door and lifted the phone, thrusting it at me. "Come on then, call her. Her names Sophie. Just tell her what I told you. She's in to all this supernatural crap, she'll believe you." He punched in a number and I had no choice but to take the phone from his hand.

I did, but not without muttering, "Thanks for nothing," I spun around to face the wall, my cheeks flaming from feeling both Jesse and Blake staring at me. Never, never again am I plotting something like that! I thought to myself grinding my teeth together. Finally a sniffling voice answered the phone and I turned my attention to that. "Is that Sophie?" I asked, waiting for a wail of, 'Yesssss!' to end before I spoke up again. "Great, I've got a message for you from a jerk-off called, Blake. He said give his favourite Jersey back to his parents. That's it." I finished, even though I wanted to ask how she could've gone out with such an ass!

I slammed the phone down before I had to listen to her wails that had gone up a pitch after I said Blake and turned to glare at him. But he was already fading away. He didn't leave without throwing me one last comment though. "That's for kneeing me in the nuts. Laters, sweetness!" He laughed viciously, disappearing completely.

I was so screwed! And humiliated! Did I forget to mention that?

But I'd also like to point out here; before I go any further . . . no-one can say I'm not brave! I mean, I face the un-dead every-day, some of which have some decidedly sketchy notions of what's holding them back, usually meaning revenge or something just as bad. But considering I'd just make a complete fool of myself in front of the love of my life, and managed to give some dead guy a good laugh before he disappeared into the unknown - I turned around and faced Jesse head-on, prepared for whatever he was going to say or do. You can't call that cowardice! I just have to point that out there for the record . . .

Jesse looked at me with way more humor than I liked, his lips twitching from trying not to laugh. All men are jerks! Let me note that now, too. Even hot Latino guys! There was something else in his expression too, but I was too busy trying not to blush to look close enough for it. Then he just had to go and ask, didn't he?! It wouldn't be Jesse otherwise.

"So what exactly did you do to look so . . . mussed, querida?" He questioned after he cleared his throat, making me blush five shades or red that I'd been trying not to do! He pressed his lips together to try and stop himself from laughing, but he did anyway. Deciding to scrape what was left of my dignity up off the floor - it's not as if I had to stick around and be laughed at - I picked up my notebook with the crappy unfinished title and no article and spun on my heel. Jesse's laughter he was trying to contain, following me. "Aw, querida, where are you going?!" He called out, still laughing at me!

"Bite me!" I growled, so not walking away without having the last word after that!

He just laughed harder. Maybe I should've said, kiss me. That would've shut up in a hurry!

I slammed my bathroom door closed behind me this time, not bothering to lock it. It's not as if he'd open the door anyway. I shook my head hard enough to make myself dizzy and brushed my hair back up into a pony-tail. I never do pony-tails! But suddenly, I just didn't want to see my try at acting all ravaged and stuff. I wouldn't have minded if it was for real . . . and because of Jesse. Then I got back up onto the ledge of the sink and stared down at my empty note-pad, feeling even more uninspired than before. Pulling the lid off my bed with my teeth, I scribbled down a new title, knowing it'd be a hit and my down-fall into loser-dome at school if I ran with it.

'Suze Simon's, How-To Look Like A Total Idiot While Trying To Make Your Crush Jealous . . .'

Either way, I knew one thing . . .

Sometimes, it just doesn't pay to say yes to your best friend.