Disclaimer: I do not own any part of the book series "The Mediator" by Meg Cabot, nor will I ever. I do not own any characters or settings you recognize, and I do not profit from this in any way. "Sweet, Sweet Revenge" is a story written by me (IceCreamGurl6455), purely for my own entertainment and the entertainment of others. No part of this story can be duplicated, quoted, or replicated without my permission and proper citation. Scenarios referenced or created by SapphireShell91 and Bunnylass were obtained by permission. Thank you for understanding the terms on which this story was and continues to be written. I appreciate your time and thank you in advance for complying by my personal standards, rules, and international laws.

Hello, everyone, before you read this story, I would like to say that:
1) This is a companion fic to SapphireShell91's story, "When Saying Goodnight, Tongues Usually Remain in One's Mouth."
2) This is a sequel to Bunnylass's fic, "Dinner at the Ackerman's."
3) I am not Meg Cabot.

Thank being said, please check out those stories to fully appreciate this one.

Done? Good. Happy reading!

I walked out the door, happy as hell that everything had gone all right: I wasn't grounded, I wasn't forbidden to date Jesse, no ghostly interruptions… It was everything I ever wanted. For that one night, I was normal. I was happy that Jesse had agreed to come, because I was finally able to pull him out for the world to see and say, "This is Jesse de Silva, my boyfriend." I was also glad that Doc had someone who he could relate to (intelligence-wise), Sleepy and my mom (not to mention my recently joined the whatever-the-dead-do-in-the-afterlife squad dad) approved of him, Andy hadn't scared him with the cooking, and Dopey…well, that he already knew what Dopey was like.

My not-ghostly-anymore-but-still-hot boyfriend followed me to his car. He, like a true gentleman, waited until I was out of my family's sight to start kissing me. And lets just say that for a guy who had pretty much never kissed anyone when he was alive (due to extremely stupid laws made by uptight and stuffy people), he was pretty good at it. Not that I'm like Kelly Prescott or anything with more than enough experience in these things, but still, Jesse was…well, Jesse.

I was reminded of these facts as we both broke away, gasping for air. It's still amazing to see this and know that he's actually alive. And, you know, not having to always be the killjoy who has to stop kissing because she needs air. Yeah, that's definitely a factor.

I see it as a privilege that my family and friends can actually see him now, instead of only me (thanks to my freaky mutation). I was reminded of another time when no one could see him but me… Oh, revenge would be sweet.

After Mr. de Silva felt he had kissed me enough, he pulled away and just stared into my eyes. I stared right back, but the effect was ruined by extreme case of stifled hysterical laughter. He started frowning, and that just made the giggles grow. He should be used to my behavior after almost a year, but what do you know? He was clearly baffled, and it showed. I continued smirking at him.

"Susannah?" he asked, hesitantly. I kind of felt bad about leading him on in this situation, and the giggles disappeared. "Querida? What have I done to get you so amused?" He asked in a frustrated tone. The confusion and befuddlement of this far-more-intelligent-than-me guy was just too funny to watch. The laughter was insanely entertaining to me, for some strange reason, and I slapped my hand (very ungraciously) over my mouth in an attempt to salvage my dignity. It didn't work.

It's just that I remembered something quite funny that you said to me," I choked out. He still didn't understand a thing! "Oh, it was a long time ago now, I think, within the first couple of months of us knowing each other, and you were scolding me for something you just did, just now." His hypocritical move and perplexed expression set off the laughter again.

In typical 17th century fashion, he just looked down at me. His eyes make me melt; I know this, he knows this, heck, any girl with half a brain would do the same thing. Except tonight. I wouldn't fall prey to his shameless attempts to get me to talk, even if it killed me. And actually, spontaneous combustion was looking very likely at the moment. If, you know, the giggles can do that to you.

I looked at him and felt sad. It's all his fault, he just looked at me with those big, black eyes. It's simple: if Jesse's happy, Suze is happy; if Jesse's sad, Suze is sad; if Jesse's mad, Suze is kicking some ghostly butt.

So, instead of losing every shred of self-respect I had, I settled for smiling sweetly up at him. I leaned in close to his ear—almost killing myself in the process, may I add, thanks to ballet flats not being as height-enhancing as, say, heels—(his arms, I noticed, immediately went around my waist) and said in a sugary voice, "Now, I may have only been alive for eighteen years, Jesse, but that doesn't mean I don't know how people say goodnight. And, generally, when people say goodnight, they keep their tongues to themselves." I watch his face as my words sunk in. "Hy-po-crite," I said, saying each syllable slowly. His face was white (almost ghostly, may I add, but without the ethereal glow) with shock, and he seemed frozen in place. I kissed him lightly on the cheek, chuckling, and hopped down from my oh-so-comfortable perch in his arms. I didn't know when he'd recover, but I didn't want to take my chances. When I reached the door, I sighed, and turned back. He wasn't wearing his Susannah-that's-not-funny face, which I took as a good sign. It almost looked as if he had bowed slightly to me. Yeah, I disregarded that, because that would be a totally un-Jesse-like thing for him to do, though the thought was romantic.

"Goodnight, Jesse," I said, smiling. He, I saw, was wearing a small smile of his own.

"Goodnight, Querida," he said in that silky voice I had come to love so much.

I turned to go inside, but before I touched the door, instinct took control. I stuck my tongue out at him, then rushed inside and closed the door. I stood with my back against the door, giggling, for a few moments, before peeking out the window to see Jesse leaving. I snapped my finger, saying, "And, that is how Suze Simon does it."

I hope you enjoyed this; give me your feedback by reviewing!

~IceCreamGurl6455