Author's Notes: This is my first real fic, so be nice in reviews. It's also an alternate universe fic, and takes place after book 3, even though it doesn't make any reference to, or depend on, any previous events.
Disclaimer: Jenny Carroll/Meg Cabot owns The Mediator and all its characters, and maybe some other people own them to, unbeknownst to me. Anyway, the point is, I don't own them, and am using them merely for my own personal entertainment, and the entertainment of others, and am not making money, so no suing.
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This was insanity. Pure insanity. I mean...I was in love with a dead person. Now, mind you, he wasn't so dead to me as he was to everyone else, me being a mediator and all…but he was still dead. Not to mention the fact that he probably thought of me as the secondary character who was there for comedy relief, not the romantic lead. Oh, and combine that with the fact that a little girl, who was also dead, was now sitting on the end of my bed whining about her 'baba', and God only knew what that could be."Excuse me? Your what?" I was not in the most understanding of moods.
She looked up at me with these big, blue, tear-filled eyes. She was no more than 6 years old. I wondered how she died.
"Baba…mean…whyyyyy!!!" she screamed, and then she started bawling again. Now this type of ghost I'd had no experience with, so I just looked at her the way Jesse looked at me the first time I'd spoken to him. So, basically, I was totally confused.
It was then that, speak of the devil, Jesse appeared, wanting to know what all the noise was about. Turns out I didn't have to answer, because that was pretty obvious the second he bothered looking towards the foot of my bed.
"Susannah, who is this?"
I shot him a 'how-the-hell-should-I-know-I-only-work-here' look. Jesse looked a little perplexed at my obvious lack of mediator-ing skills, which he makes sure to point out to me at every possible moment. Which was why, obviously having more patience, and quite a few more years' experience, than I did, decided to go talk to little miss waterworks. He kneeled down on the floor in front of her, and, in a voice I'd never heard him use, one that, I guessed, was reserved for young children and the outrageously stupid, asked, "Darling, what is your name?" I promptly decided that this voice, just like every other aspect of him, was completely melt-worthy.
The little girl, seeing something in Jesse that she hadn't seen in me, apparently, stopped crying immediately. She sniffled a few times, and went, "E-emma." I was a little insulted that, after half an hour of fruitless attempts, I couldn't get her to stop crying, much less speak coherently, and here was Jesse, who could do it in a matter of seconds, but I decided that it must be a ghost-kinship thing. Or maybe there was just something special about Jesse. It was probably more of the latter.
Jeez, I really had to stop thinking about that kind of thing. I could not love Jesse. No. Bad Suze. Go love someone else.
I guess this whole thought process took longer than I thought, because, next thing I knew, just as I was forcing myself to fall madly in love with Heath Ledger, Jesse asked me what he thought we should do.
A quick glance around the room showed that Emma was nowhere to be found, and I guess Jesse caught my expression, which was probably a bit bewildered, since he then asked, teasingly, "You weren't paying any attention at all to the conversation I just had with Emma, were you Susannah?" The whole time he said this, he had this trace of a smile on his face. The kind parents get when they know they're supposed to be mad at their kids, but they can't help but laugh because the situation is so funny. Except it seemed a whole lot less parent-like on Jesse.
I didn't think this Heath Ledger thing was going to work out.
I blushed profusely at his question, not because I was ashamed that I hadn't been paying attention, that was hardly something new, but because of the thoughts that had been distracting me in the first place. Hopefully he didn't see my cheeks in the dark.
"Um…no, not exactly. But, I'm sure you'll fill me right in!"
"Alright Susannah…but first, what, pray tell, was distracting you?" He actually sounded a little concerned. About me. The thought just made me blush more, which said something, because I was so not the blushing type. But, of course, I had to remind myself that he was only concerned because he thought of me as his little sister or something equally non-romantic. I didn't want to worry him needlessly though, thinking that something had happened.
After a few seconds of thought, I decided I wouldn't lie. I'd be forward with him, and just say what I had really been thinking. Less trouble later, right? So, I said, "I was thinking about a guy."
What? I never said I'd tell the whole truth. I just said I wouldn't lie, which I didn't. Jesse was a guy, very much so, and I had been thinking about him. Therefore, I had told him the complete truth. I just saved myself some humiliation in the process.
For a moment I thought a look of hurt had flickered across his face, but then I realized I was just deluding myself into thinking I actually had a chance with the hottest guy I had ever seen in my life, who was also over 150 years old. Ha, yeah right. What is with my taste in guys?
"Oh. Well then, querida. I will tell you what Emma said while you were thinking about boys." Did he sound bitter? No, that's the deluding again. "She is 6 years old, and she seems very upset about someone she refers to as 'Baba'. She claims this 'Baba' was 'mean' to her, as she puts it, and wants help. As you would say, it is what you do, so I'm assuming you're going to give it. I asked her if 'Baba' went by any other names, and she was adamant that this person didn't, although that's probably highly unlikely. You have your summer vacation now, so will we start trying to solve this tomorrow?"
We? When had there been a 'we'? What, was Jesse, a ghost, signing up for the mediator club or something? I did appreciate the fact that he wanted to help though. Why was he insisting on making it so difficult for me to fall back out of love with him?
I had been sitting cross-legged on my bed, near my pillow, and while he had been talking, Jesse had come and sat on the edge of the bed, right next to me. As he spoke, I stared at his face; at his brown eyes that were so easy to get lost in if you weren't careful, at his perfect lips that I wondered what it would feel like to kiss, and at that scar that glowed whenever he was angry. I wondered where he had gotten that scar. I managed to snap myself out of my Jesse-trance quickly though. Well, maybe not quickly, but at least before he had to ask the same question again.
"Huh? Oh! Um, yeah. 'Course. Tomorrow."
"Are you thinking about that boy again? You must like him very much; you are very distracted tonight. Well, goodnight querida. Sleep well."
And then he was gone. Poof. Ghosts are irritating like that, popping in and out at will. It was kind of inconvenient if you ask me. He had seemed a little…off tonight though. I wondered why. Was he jealous of the 'boy' I had been thinking of? That would be ironic, the 'boy' being him and all. Amusing, yes, but possible? Highly unlikely. I had to stop giving myself false hope; it was a bad habit to get into. Maybe Spike had gone missing again or something. Yeah, come to think of it, I hadn't seen him around lately. Stupid cat.
It was with these kinds of thoughts floating around in my head that I finally started drifting off at 2:30 AM, completely forgetting about Emma and Baba, even though that should have been the highlight of my evening. Funnily enough though, if Jesse was involved, he automatically became the highlight of that particular evening. Or day. Or morning. Or whenever…mmm…Jesse…
He was my final thought before I drifted off to sleep.