Sorry this took so long! Hope there are still people who want to read this. Or cats, sharks or ants, I'm not picky.

Thanks to Stephanie Sunshine, who is my main motivator to continue writing this story.

I've decided that I will switch around the story between Suze and Jesse's POV. And to anyone who was wondering, AU means Alternate Universe, and so the story isn't directly related to the Mediator books. Okay?

Read and review!

Jesse

After 15 years we met again. Fate dealt their cards and we received the good hand.

She was resilient, as I watched her fought off the deranged ghost as best as she could. It was after I had made sure that the ghost had gone somewhere else that I turned to her and saw that she was unconscious. I lifted her to my car and brought her to the San Francisco Memorial, noticing for the first time how beautiful she was.

And how lucky for her that it was me who had stumbled into the attack instead of someone without the gift of mediation.

When she woke up she wanted to get out of the hospital immediately. But I made her sit back so that I could check her again for any other injuries. There was something familiar to the bright green eyes, but I couldn't place them and I couldn't place her.

Then she said her name. Susannah Simon.

Strange how after that it seemed like no years had passed as we talked and got to know each other, again. Well, we didn't really talked the last time we met as we were at that age when we dislike the opposite sex, and she more to me as I tried to look after my sisters while she taught them complicated cartwheels and flips. Susannah thought I was too interfering.

It was almost a month after the fateful meeting at the park when I finally had the courage to ask her out. To formally court her. She agreed.

During the date, we talked about work and current events, and I began to realize how passionate Susannah was about her work as a counselor for troubled teens at the Social Development Centre. She cared about the children the way they were never cared by their own families, and I felt a tug in my heart as I listened to her talk about her latest case.

Can you fell in love with someone you've only known for a month? Well, a month and fifteen years if you wanted to be specific.

When we were standing at the beach and watched the waves, I thought, maybe you can after all.

I never kiss a lady on the first date. I just think that move is too forward and we should get to know each before becoming closer in that sense. But that night as I looked at Susannah's serene face as she gazed at the sea, her eyes reflecting the moon and I couldn't help myself. When she turned to face me, I lifted my hand to her face and kissed her.

Inside my head, I was appalled at myself, but I was too encouraged by her response to think straight. A kiss that was meant to be a peck on the lips turned into a full, deep and sensual one. It was different than any other kisses that I've had in my life. It was exhilarating.

When we finally pulled apart, I stammered for an apology for my rash behavior, but a smile from her told me that it was alright.

After that everything changed, for the better. As corny as it sounds, it was as if I had found my soul mate. The things we had in common pulled us together and the things we had in difference complemented each other. I just never thought that our differences would cause us so much pain.

My parents were eager but a little cautious when I told them that I wanted them to meet the woman that I've fallen in love with. It was about time too, since my sisters kept asking about Susannah, especially Marta who remembered Susannah from our meeting in Madrid. Everything was planned perfectly, and I thought it would go exactly as planned.

I was absolutely wrong.

All was well in the beginning. My father had questioned Susannah on her family, her job and pretty much everything else in her life. She took them well, if a little surprised. I wanted to rescue her, but I didn't want her to look helpless in front of my father, so I let her show him what she was made of.

On the other hand, my mother was happy, although I overheard her mentioning something about Spanish cooking to Susannah and I noticed both of them didn't seem too happy after that. I never actually found out what she said.

But the turning point was when I went to look at Josefina's drawing that was placed second in her school's annual drawing contest. I remember leaving Susannah with my parents at the kitchen while I went to the family hall with Josefina.

When I came back, I heard the last thing I ever thought I would hear. And it was my own father who had uttered the words.

"Susannah, you don't belong with Jesse. We've made the decision, and that's it."

"Padre!" I cried out in shock. I could not believe what I was hearing. "What decision are you talking about?"

He looked at me hard. "Jesse, you know very well what I am saying. That girl is not your match. She doesn't have anything in common with our family. You know that –"

"I know that I love her! That's all that matters!" I almost shouted in disbelief and frustration. I looked to my mother for support, but she was standing besides my father, looking every bit disapproved as he was.

Then I realized that Susannah had left the kitchen, and I heard the front door slam. Turning around, I ran to the living room and out the front door, ignoring my mother's cries for me to stop.

I tried to stop Susannah. I tried to talk to her, to plead with her, but when she looked like she would agree to for us to still be together, she changed her mind. She said it was over, but even when I stood there watching her as she left, I knew that it wasn't.

I was too angry to speak to my parents after that, and left their house immediately, stopping only to say goodbye to my sisters. Marta and Mercedes understood, but they didn't say anything. Perhaps they saw the pain in my eyes, and the disappointment in my voice.

My calls to Susannah weren't answered or replied and soon I decided I couldn't go on not speaking to my parents. I was still angry, but I didn't want them to think that I was insolent. So a month later I went back to their house and pretended that the last incident never happened, and they were happy to go along with it.

I felt it was hard to forgive them, though. And I wasn't so sure that I did, especially since my mother was so eager for me to be with the daughter of one of her friends. She was Spanish, so immediately she was perfect in my parents' eyes. They didn't even care that she worked as a model, which in my opinion was the most useless job in the world. It was sickening.

I never stopped thinking about Susannah. It was almost to the point of hallucination, because my heart quickened whenever I saw a glimpse of long chestnut hair or heard a voice that sounded just like hers. But the hair always belonged to another woman, as did the voice. My best friend and colleague at the hospital where I worked, Dylan, noticed my strange behavior, but thankfully didn't say anything about it.

Then one day during one of my visit to my parents', my mother told me about this event that the daughter of that friend of hers was invited to. I ignored her obvious hints for me to go to that event with the model until my mother put on a pretense of being upset and started chattering about waiting so long for me to get married and being too old for any grandchildren until I couldn't take it anymore and agreed to go to the stupid event.

So there I was, bored almost to death, listening as my date for the evening, Theresa, talked to supposedly important people who meant nothing to me. There were times when I felt like I was being watched, but when I looked around, I didn't see anyone I knew.

Then I heard it. Laughter, so clear and familiar, like music to my ears. Instinctively I turned around, even though experience told me that it was probably one of my imaginations again. But it was not.

It was her. It was Susannah.

I stood and stared at her, and she looked back at me, her chestnut hair that had so long haunted my dreams tied up neatly and her light green dress matched her beautiful eyes perfectly. This time, the hair, and the voice were really hers.

Then she smiled a brave smile even though her eyes were sad, and without thinking, I walked towards her.

She looked surprised, and I half-expected her to run, but she stayed where she was. And when I took her in my arms and kissed her, I realized that it was better than any dreams that I ever had.

After that we continued our relationship in secret. Well, we didn't set out to intentionally deceive others but our principle was 'don't ask, don't tell'. So as long as no one asked me where I was going or what I was doing, no one needed to know that I was spending time with Susannah. Especially my parents.

We didn't know how long this would go on, but there were no time to think about the long-term. We were together, that was all that mattered at the moment.

The moment, which unfortunately didn't last that long.

--0-0-0-0--

"So. Aren't you gonna tell me?"

I looked up to see Dylan leaning against the counter of the nurse station, his right hand holding a cup of coffee while the other in the pocket of his white coat, and he was smirking at me.

I turned back to the row of files of my patients on the counter. "Tell you what?"

He sighed exaggeratedly, shaking his head. "Why you're so happy."

"Do I look happy?" And I knew I didn't. I rarely was when nearing the end of my shift after a day of treating patients and hence being as tired as hell.

He put the cup of coffee on the counter, winking at a nurse named Lisa who was sitting there. She rolled her eyes, but smiled anyway. We all knew of Dylan's reputation. Ladies' man.

"I'm not talking about today. I'm talking about in general. You know, like these past few weeks…I see that you actually seem happy. Not sulking and brooding and walking around like Dr. Doom, scaring away all the patients. I even had to comfort a small child from the trauma after being treated by you," he said, putting on a fake concerned expression.

I fixed him a look. "I wasn't that bad. I just had some problems…and it's been resolved. So now I'm feeling much better."

He sipped his coffee. "Does it have anything to do with that girl?"

Nombre de Dios. I almost dropped the files. "What girl?" I asked, trying to sound nonchalant even though my heart felt like it had stopped. He couldn't have known about Susannah. There was no possible way.

"That hot girl. She came to see you here the other day. The one who looked like Salma Hayek." Dylan grinned his perfect teeth. "You two have something going on then?"

Breathing a small sigh of relief, I arranged the files back to their positions. Now that I knew he didn't know anything about Susannah, I started feeling angry about Theresa and her continuous meddling with my life. "No, it has nothing to do with her. I don't have anything to do with her. If you see her next time, just tell her I'm not in. Okay?"

"Okay, okay. Don't get your knickers in a twist," he said, using one of the expressions he heard from his favorite British TV show. Then he went to throw his empty cup into the trash bin.

Picking up the file for my last patient for the day, I turned to walk to his ward when Dylan suddenly came to stand beside me.

"It's Suze, isn't it?" he said in a low voice, his dark blue eyes looking seriously into mine. "You've made up with her."

I swallowed, feeling my heart racing. I wanted to lie and say that he was wrong, but even without me saying anything, I knew that he already knew. He wasn't joking when he said it this time. His face had lost all of the humor that he had earlier.

In the end, I decided to give in. Looking around to make sure no one was near enough to hear our conversation, I sighed and said, "How did you know?"

"Jesse, I'm your best friend, and there are things that best friends can guess without having to tell each other anything. I may be blonde, but I'm not dumb."

Glancing at his blue-black hair, I narrowed my eyes. "You're not blonde," I stated.

He smiled wickedly. "That's what you think."

Shaking my head, I tried to get around the fact that Dylan knew about my relationship with Susannah. The one that was supposed to be a secret. "Dylan, you're right, but we're trying to keep it between us –"

"Dr. Rourke? Mrs. Swinney is complaining of chest pains again," Lisa interrupted us from the station, a phone in her hand.

"I'll be right there," Dylan replied, before turning back to me. "Look, I don't know what's going on between you two and your parents and all, but don't worry. I won't tell anyone. That's not my style."

Then he walked away, and I stood there for a moment before making my way to my patient's room. I didn't doubt Dylan and I knew that he will keep his word, but at the same time it worried me. I hoped no one else had noticed anything about this.

I turned the knob to the private room of Mr. Stanley, who was being warded after suffering a heart attack. He's stable now, though, and should be released in a few days.

I pulled the curtains and saw that he was sleeping. Walking over to his clipboard at the foot of his bed, I checked his vitals and made some notes. Then I checked his drip to make sure the amount was right, before taking his pulse and blood pressure. He didn't even stir in his sleep. I was so intent on doing my job that I didn't notice there was someone sitting on a chair at the back corner of the room. It was when the person stood up that I noticed him in the corner of my eyes.

"Visiting hours is over, sir. Please come back tomorrow," I said, without looking up from writing the notes on Mr. Stanley's file.

There was a pause. "You can see me?"

Instantly, I looked up and saw that the man was glowing a faint yellow. I mentally kicked myself. Why didn't I notice that before I spoke? I must have been more tired than I thought.

"You can see me?" he asked again, now looking excited. I took in his simple appearance of white shirtsleeve and black trousers, his young, open face and guessed that he must have been around 20 years old when he died. So young, and all of a sudden I felt pity for him.

I glanced back to the door to make sure that it was shut before replying, "Yes, I can see you. I'm a mediator. It's my job to help those who have passed away to move on."

He nodded slowly, looking amazed. "I never knew people like you actually existed. I thought it was just a myth."

Despite my weariness, I smiled. "Well, we don't actually advertise ourselves. I'm Hector de Silva. And you are?"

"Darren Murphy," he replied and shook hands with me. I felt strange. Never in my life had I actually shook hands with a ghost.

"Darren. Do you know why you are still here?" I asked.

He looked puzzled. "What do you mean?"

"Do you know why you haven't moved on? Why you are still lingering on earth?"

"You mean it's not my fate to be a ghost forever?" He looked shocked.

I shook my head and smiled shortly. "It's highly unlikely. Usually those who became ghosts after they passed away have unfinished business that they must attend to. And from my experience, after whatever deed that has to be completed is completed, the person will move on."

"Oh." He looked like he was thinking. "I see."

"Are there any unfinished business that you have to do? I can help you with that."

He didn't reply. Instead, he stared at Mr. Stanley who was peacefully sleeping.

I knew that he was new to this whole ghost situation, and I should be more patient, but it was already 8.45pm and my shift was supposed to end 15 minutes ago. I was hungry, tired and the last thing I needed was to help a ghost who appeared to be as lost about his predicament as I was.

Sighing, I said, "Darren, I'm sorry, but can you think of any things that – "

"We've been friends since we were 10," he suddenly said. He was still staring at my patient, a sad expression on his face. "I hate to see him looking like this."

Puzzled, I tried to understand what he was saying. "Are you talking about Mr. Stanley?"

He smiled wistfully. "Steven Stanley. All of us used to call him 'Skinny Stanley' at school because he was one of the skinniest people you'd ever met. It's not like he didn't eat, he did eat, in fact sometimes more than the rest of us. The doctors said it was high metabolism or something like that. He was skinny, but as healthy as a horse."

I looked at the young face of Darren, to the wrinkled face and grey hair of 56-year-old Mr. Stanley. He was not making sense. Unless…"How long is it since you've passed away?"

Darren's face changed and he looked confused, as well as something I couldn't quite identify. "Last month. Just two weeks after my 57th birthday." Then he looked at me. "Imagine my surprise, waking up and seeing myself like this, like I just graduated from high school. Do you know why?"

I nodded slowly, realising what had happened to him. "Sometimes ghosts appear in the form of themselves at the peak of their life. That may be why you end up looking like that, instead of how you looked like when you passed away," I explained.

He nodded, then just stood there staring at Mr. Stanley again. I glanced discreetly at my watch. It was now 5 minutes to 9pm.

Frustration building inside me, I took a deep breath and said as pleasantly as I could, "Darren, I want to help you. But you must tell me anything you know about… anything that might relate to why you ended up as a ghost."

Darren looked up at me, and I realized that the expression I couldn't recognize earlier was anger. "I was murdered. And the same people who did that also tried to kill Steven. I know it."

Dios. That was not the answer I was hoping to hear.

"How do you know that? Do you have any evidence?" I asked, trying to keep the doubt out of my voice.

"No I don't. Not yet though. But if you want to help me, look into the YLN Corporations. They've been buying some of the hotels in the city in order to create their own hotel chain and monopolize the hotel industry. Me, Steven and Robert own the Hotel Twenty but we didn't want to sell it. A few months later, I'm dead by food poisoning, and now Steven is in the hospital supposedly of heart attack. I know it must be them, their doing." He looked outraged.

I was quiet for a moment, thinking. "But there aren't any signs of foul play in Mr. Stanley's conditions. How do you know that he didn't get it naturally?"

"Because Steven is one of the healthiest man I know. Remember I told you about him in school? Well, he ain't that skinny now, but he sure is as healthy. He plays golf, squash, and even tennis sometimes. Suddenly he fell over sick. It's not natural."

"The disease could be hereditary," I said, trying to look at all the possible angles. Murder was the last thing I wanted to consider.

Darren sighed. "Hector, I know his family, alright? No one in his family has ever suffered from heart disease. Not his mom, his dad, his grandparents, his brother or sister. This is done by someone. And I have no doubt that it's one of those from the YLN Corp."

I shook my head, trying to think of other reasons. But he sounded so sure, and despite how young he looked, he sounded like someone who had lived long and knew much. I wasn't sure if ghosts retain their knowledge from their life even after coming back in their younger self, but looking at Darren, I wouldn't rule it out.

"I have to have something to go by. You cannot expect me to walk up to the company and start to investigate them. If what you're saying is true, this is a very serious situation," I told him.

He thought for a while. "Alright. I'll deal with that. In the meantime, please warn Robert about this. I have a feeling he might be next on their list."

"Robert who –"I started to ask, but he had already dematerialized.

Great, Jesse. Now look what you've gotten yourself into.

Picking up the file and the blood pressure device, I walked out of the room. From the clock at the nurse station, I saw that it was already 9.15pm. I know I should start thinking of plans regarding Darren and his theory on YLN, but I was too tired. I've been working since 8am this morning, and at the moment I just want to go back, eat some dinner and sleep.

After saying good night to the nurses, I walked towards the locker room. On the way, I saw Dylan, who has the night shift. He was talking to a surgeon and didn't see me.

Seeing him reminded me of Susannah. As usual, when I think about Susannah, I thought about what she was doing at the moment, and when would I see her again. We haven't seen each other in about a week, both being busy with our jobs but we promised to meet this weekend. Two more days, I thought.

After taking a shower and changing out of my uniform, I grabbed my bag and left the hospital. As I drove home, I wondered if I should stop by and buy some food. Sometimes I cook my own dinner, but tonight I didn't feel like cooking. I didn't feel like dropping by any shops either, and decided to go home and order some takeaways.

When I pulled up the driveway, I noticed that the living room lights were on. I switched off the car engine, frowning. That's odd. I always switch off all the lights when I leave my house in the morning. I got out of the car and walked up to the front door. While I selected my key, I felt uneasy. I wondered if my mother had decided to come after all, even though I had told her that I couldn't eat dinner with her that night. But she doesn't have my house key. In fact, no one else has one but me.

Slowly, I unlocked the front door and pushed the door open. Everything looked normal, and I walked in, looking around the front hall. I wondered if I should have a weapon of some sort, in case there's a burglar or somebody like that. As I closed the door behind me, I was contemplating on whether to pick up the umbrella in the stand to serve as my weapon, when I smelled something delicious. Something like food.

I groaned inwardly. It was my mother. She had decided to come and cook dinner for me because I couldn't come to my parents' house that night. Taking off my coat, I put on a happy expression, even though I didn't think I could handle her lectures right now.

I turned to walk to the kitchen when someone walked out of it and leaned against the wall in front of me. I froze. It wasn't my mother after all.

"Hi Jesse," she said, smiling.

I couldn't help but smile back. "Hello querida."