Imperfection

PART I

This is something a little different. It's not a cliché, and hasn't been done before…at least I don't think so.

I don't own the copyrights of Mediator under my bed. I checked, I promise.

Enjoy.

000

You know what the funny thing about bars is? There's always someone in them.

Always. Seriously.

So when I stumbled through a bar at 2:30 PM on a Monday, somewhere in an alley in New York, it was half full with men in beards carrying all the signs of unemployment.

I wonder if they're single too, like me.

I sat on a bar stool.

'Gimme the strongest of what you've got. No wait, cross that, give me a Bloody Mary. Strong'

The bartender didn't as much as blink. Guess you get used to how pathetic people's lifes' can get, huh?

I bet Paul's gonna be late. He said 2:30, it's 2:35. Oh well. Who cares.

I was sitting there, slurping my drink (I have no clue what it is; Jesse was the one who liked drinking, not me)

Always, I was sitting there, minding my own business, trying to decide the easiest way to commit suicide, when Paul came in the bar.

Paul Michael Slater.

And here I was think he wouldn't have come. I mean, it was a little crazy, even to me, this situation we were in.

He just sat down, two seats away from me, and without looking right or left mumbled something to the bartender.

I ignored him and the chugged the rest of my drink.

Yesterday

I could barely pick up my three suitcases and Versace purse. I was so proud of myself; the tears didn't come till I reached the elevator. I could tell that Jesse still felt bad and guilty.

Well, let him. He deserved it for all the agony and humiliation he put me through.

He promised to help me anytime he could, and reminded me that he would be in touch. That's just who he is.

Some people are like that.

Some people can be so fucking kind to you, while they're backstabbing the whole time.

I loved him.

That's all I could think the whole elevator ride down. I loved his stupid smile and stupid respect for woman, and his perfect profession, and the way that I never even suspected till the last minute he was breaking up with me.

'Querida…'

I shook my head to clear the voice.

Being alive suited Jesse. He loved living life. When we dated, he actually enjoyed going to dance clubs and parties. I had thought he wouldn't; I mean; he used to be so righteous and just so…the good guy. The guy I could count on to drive me home safe. I was always the one who would go crazy and need excitement and get into trouble.

He was supposed to save me from that.

But what I didn't count on was 150 years. You know, that's a hell of a long time.

So after a while, as all people do, Jesse inevitably changed.

Present Time

Paul still hadn't looked at me, and I kind of liked it. Just observing him, not believing how much he'd changed in just...when was it, three years since I last saw him? Four.

The last time was when he'd asked me for one last dance at my wedding. My wedding to Jesse.

He had changed so much in looks since then it was scary. And something told me his looks weren't the only thing that had changed. He was a different man.

But then, I'd had my fair share of watching people change.

Yesterday

The strangest thing in our break-up was the fact that the day before, we had been fine. Jesse had never let me even think for a moment that we would be over.

We were married, for godsake.

Hell, I still couldn't believe that all the time he had been planning on how to break the news. The terrible, terrible words that still haunt me and ring in my ears, on the sidewalk in New York.

Just STOP, Suze. Don't think about that.

I distracted myself by checking into a seedy cheap hotel and dumping my bag on the bed, all on auto-pilot. The only time my voice wavered when the man behind the desk in the lobby asked me my name.

'Susannah De Sil- I mean Simon. Just Susannah Simon.'

He'd looked all knowingly at me and my stupid suitcases and Versace purse.

Present Time

'Suze. Didn't see you there.'

'I'm sure you didn't.'

'What are you drinking?'

'I'm-I'm not sure, exactly. It's called a Bloody Mary; one of my friends drinks it on a regular basis. No clue what's in it. It's nice, though. Why don't you tell me, I'm sure you know.' I said blabbered, then felt the numbness rush back into me.

'Look Suze…' He self consciously ran a hand through his hair and took a sip of his gin and tonic.

Then I felt sorry for him. I was being a bitch. He hadn't done anything to me, as far as I had known in the last four years. And, from what he'd told me, he was suffering a loss too.

All of a sudden it struck my just how surreal this was. I was in some bar with Paul, slowly getting drunker, and I was feeling sorry for him.

Ha. That's rich. I pitied him when basically we were in the same boat.

'Where are you staying?'

I looked at him then, really looked, deep into his eyes. He seemed truly concerned to know.

I just laughed. Several men looked up.

'Hey baby, we can make you laugh too, laugh all night long if you want.' One of them, who wore a red bandanna, called out to me, winking.

Paul tensed but didn't move.

I ignored them both and told the bartender to give me another drink.

The Day Before Yesterday. Ignore Pun.

It's strange, but I didn't cry. I just know that I'll never forget his exact words and my exact clothes.

I'm serious.

We had just got back from Jill what's Her Name's party around four. I was in a white D&G mini and a black scoop neck. White silver and pearl earrings. No make-up. What was the point?

'Susannah we need to talk.' He pulled of his shoes and shirt, and got in bed in his boxers. I used to think that was sexy. At that time, at 4AM, all I could think was - dude you need some deo.

What?

So sue me if the effects of him dancing all night long in the same room with 40 other bodies were getting on my nerves.

AND my secretary quit today, too.

'What for?' I mumbled. The only talking I wanted to do was…no wait I didn't wanna talk. Period.

'Susannah, I love you. I think we have a great marriage. You know that, right?'

'Mhhmm' I mumbled and snuggled into my blankets. Don't worry, I changed the skirt first. All I wearing was a large oversized tee and underwear.

'But…you know how I used to have trouble fitting in, back at the start? How hard it was for me, and how you helped me the whole way?' His voice was soft, strong, and not slurred. A miracle considering how many beers he'd downed.

I stiffened. You see, Jesse never talks about his life as a ghost. He seemed resent all those years he wasted. He had hid it pretty well, when I first met him, but now that he was alive he was intent on never feeling that frustration and loneliness again.

And I had completely understood. What I didn't get was why he was bringing this up now.

'Look, I know you won't believe this. But-but it's come to a point where I can't control it any longer. Susannah, I'm sure you've noticed how much I've changed.' Stop beating around the bush already, dammit! I thought, my drowsiness fading quickly.

'Susannah, I guess what I'm trying to say…is that I'm tired of married life.'

I froze. Not just my body, but my every organ, my heart, my brains. Only my ears kept hearing the words I refused to believe.

'I spent 150 years on my own, and time seemed to just stretch on endlessly. Then-then' His voice broke to almost a whisper 'I met you and it was the happiest time of my life. But then I become alive, and everything was happening so fast…I worked my way through medical school, and I had no to time to really live life. Now, finally, we're married and yet…' It hurt him to say this but he had to; he had no choice anymore.

'I love living. I love partying, enjoying with friends, dancing…and I never really had the chance to date.' He said the last part so quietly I almost didn't hear it.

But I did. And it tore my heart out.

'Are you cheating on me?' My voice was dry, brittle.

'Of course not! I would never do that to you!' His voice was agitated. 'Please try to understand I will always love you. But I don't feel ready to be in a serious relationship. I don't want the responsibility of a family. Please, mi querida, try to understand…150 years is just too much. I can't take it all in, even now.'

I lay there in the silence, in the dark. I remembered Carmel. I remembered the long sun soaked days that Jesse and I spent there, exploring the beaches, just reveling in being in each other's company.

We didn't want anything, anyone else. Just the two of us were enough for each other. When had that changed?

I lay there, and asked God.

Why did we want so much from life?

Present time

Soon we both were pretty drunk. No, I'm talking wasted drunk. Seriously. He was calling me Susie and I was putting my hand on his thighs and leaning towards him.

'Paulie! Did I eva tell ya 'bout how – how hot you are?' This struck me as extremely hilarious. I started giggling, hysterically.

'Susie, love, it's such a great thing that you ditched the gay cowboy, now we can go and have hot wild sex in the back of the bar.' He said, slurring.

I thought about it, and pouted.

'He's not gay, Paulie baby, but he is a cowboy.' I sat back, pleased to get this important fact clear. Jesse would be so proud of me.

'Oh yes, my bad', Paul nodded amicably and we both sat in a contented silence, slurping our drinks.

I got up. 'Ima- Ima go now, okie, Paulie smooch?' I tottered towards the door, drink in hand, oblivious to the catcalls and whistles.

Somewhere deep down, I felt a strange deep humiliation. I, Suze Simon, had been reduced to such a low? How had this happened?

I let the anger flow through me, and I turned. Paul was still sitting and drinking, grinning lewdly at the barman. I think that's when I pretty much lost it. Even Paul preferred going gay on the BARMAN rather then ogle at me. I scowled and marched up to him.

'Slater.' I said loudly. No more Paulie-waulie for him. Oh no, he was in big shit when we got home.

Suddenly I couldn't remember why I was so mad, or why this great bitter sadness was filling my very soul.

And I needed to pee.

But mommy said never to go pee in a public place if you can help it.

I miss mommy.

'Paul!' I said louder. He sighed and threw a bill at the bartender. He got up, swaggered towards the exit, and stepped out.

I dumped the rest of my drink over a man in a red bandanna and followed him out.

Two hours later…I think

I have no clue how we got home. I know it entailed a lot of yelling, pointing, hugging, and generally freaking out the population of New York. We wobbled through the streets, and got lost, and spent ages trying to find...well, we didn't know.

In the end, Paul had the presence of mind to hail a taxi, mumble out the address of his apartment.

The Next Day

I woke up in some strange bed, with a strange smell and strange bedclothes.

I turned and saw a bare back next to me, half covered with the blanket. I watched the steady rise and fall of his back for a moment, and then reluctantly tried to wake him.

'Jesse. Honey, we're gonna be late…' I moaned. 'Oh god, my head hurts.' My brain felt foggy…

I rolled him over and nearly fainted.

Paul. Holy crap!

It was like alarms going off in my head, and memories of yesterday came sharply back into focus.

Oh, this was not looking good. I mean, my life had gone from normal to freaky-off-the-scale-crazy in just three days. And, sure, my husband and love of my life wanted a divorce. So what?

I would have to learn to just deal. And that would NOT happen by getting drunk in a bar with Paul Slater.

Who, incidentally, was getting a divorce too. Except his was, like, on the verge of coming for months now. Or so he told me.

Its all his fault. Ohhh, there was going to be hell to pay…Paul always was an ass. Now, he has just dropped to an all time low by getting a girl drunk after losing the love of her life. I mean, I was in no state to protest when he met me in a café, and offered to meet me in a bar to 'catch up'.

Yeah, right. More like get wasted together.

All of a sudden I felt impossibly tired, even though I had just woken up. My headache was back in full force, and I felt like crying. Just letting it all out, all this anguish locked up in me, a dam to stop my emotions.

Because nothing, nothing, was alright in the world if I didn't have Jesse with me. Together we were perfect, the model couple, the one who all our friends had envied when we were younger.

But now was not the time. I would not

'Hey, looks like someone woke up in a good mood. You know, I really liked being called honey. You should do it more often.' Paul drawled from his side of the bed.

I threw my pillow at his head and got out of bed.

'Did you have to sleep in the same bed as me, wearing…that?' I asked in distaste. I was still wearing yesterday's clothes. My hair was a mess. There was a bad taste in my mouth.

And I needed coffee. Badly.

'Well…I have only one bed. And I've been sleep half naked-', I winced. '-ever since I was nine.'

He finally got out of bed, stretching and (on purpose, I'm sure) giving me an eyeful of his very impressive abs.

He grown up to be a powerful man, even though his body wasn't beefy. He was tall, I noticed, taller then me, but that was no surprise.

I couldn't keep the blush of my damn face as I just stood there gawping at him like he was a Greek god. I felt like a schoolgirl all over again.

He wasn't beefy like a wrestler, but still had a very impressive six-pack and muscles in his chest and neck were corded tight.

Don't get me wrong. Jesse was very very yummy to look at in the buff, but he was somehow different. His body was more like a piece of art, sculpted and lean.

Paul was more solid, somehow more there, and I felt safe and at ease around. Which, considering our history, was saying something.

Whoa, since when do I stand around drooling at abs? I scowled at nothing in particular, snapped at Paul, 'For god's sake, put on a shirt and make me some coffee.' Ohhkay, Queen Suze, much?

He looked amused and pulled on a white undershirt from his closet.

Our breakfast conversation went something life this:

Paul went, 'I think it's time we sorted out a few things.'

Yeah. Hmm, like what, I suppose? Maybe...the messy net of thorns that are otherwise known as my life?

'Look, what do you need to sort out? Huh? Tell me. Ok, you're divorced. But you have your own place to live. You have a fat check every month due to the big shot lawyer I always knew you would be,' Actually I didn't know what his job was, but considering the size of his apartment I could pretty much assume he was getting a lot of dough. But by then I didn't care, I was cracking. 'You should ask the real question. My life needs to be sorted out, and that none of you're business. You've done enough, thank you very much.' I stood there in his kitchen breathing like I had just run a mile and staring at Paul.

Finally, he said something, breaking the tense silence between us.

'I'm not a lawyer.' Of all the things to say, I must say that was pretty random.

I just stared at him like saying, 'Soo…?'

'I'm a doctor. A neurologist to be exact.' He looked down at his hands. 'Just thought you should know before you assume too much,' His voice dropped to a whisper.

I sank back into the chair. Paul? A doctor? This was like the world had just turned even more messed then it already was. I felt like someone was writing my story for a dramatic show, but he got the characters all mixed up, like he was making them OOC.

But this was the truth, my life, my reality.

'But-but why?' I spluttered.

'Do you remember the night of the Winter Formal?' He asked, blue eyes boring into me.

Hah. As if I'd forget.

'I told you you'd made an impact on my life.' He shrugged, looking innocent, and drank some coffee. 'I guess I never realized how much.'

But I knew there was more to this then he was saying.

Then it hit me. 'Wait a minute, you just became one because you were trying to compete with Jesse, right?' I narrowed my eyes. Far-fetched? I didn't think so. 'So you could – even though it doesn't make sense – somehow impress me?

He looked embarrassed, and said sheepishly, 'I wouldn't put the way you did, but…yeah, that kinda-'

I didn't let him finish.

'HOW COULD YOU JUST-just change you're life for me? I asked, stunned.

Now he looked positively queasy.

'Maybe for hope that one day you'd change yours for me.' He said it so quietly I almost didn't hear him.

Almost.

And that is when I knew that there was no justice in this world.

Even a fairytale could change, even the prince could turn beast.

And, I was starting to realize, as I looked at Paul, even the beast, for the sake of love…could turn prince.

000

A/N: This is a bit rushed, and I planned on making it a one-shot but that's changed now. There will be three parts. The next chapter will be better edited, I promise.

Please review because I'm not sure if this is ridiculous or something…Please, just drop a line : Ok, Bad, or Worse ?

Oh and thanks to my awesome beta, yabanabi! No guess who's writing this sentence hehe…

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