A/N: To be honest, I kept how Susannah and Jesse call each other because I can't see her calling him "Hector."
I do hope none of you are getting the wrong idea and think that this is going to be some amazing original fanfic. Because it really isn't. I simply twisted the Mediator canon and changed the story appropriately. Any plot twists that happen are already set by the books themselves. Anything really deviant will come in the sequels when I really have to change the story to make ends meet, for example: creating an older/wiser character for Jesse to talk to in lieu of Father Dom. (Yes, I do plan on re-writing the other books as well. They're already drafted.)
Anyway, I'm glad you guys enjoy the story. I know some chapters are 800 words long and others twice as much, but that's just how it turned out. (P.S: I'm already up to Chapter 10 on this; I just release them on FF.net every other day or so for kicks.)
Chapter 3:
On the bed, the only furniture unwrapped and set up, was a young lady. In a Victorian dress, low neckline, bustle and all. She had a necklace on that she fiddled with nonchalantly. She must have thought I was just staring at the room because she didn't bother to move. She did look up after a moment though, her emerald green eyes staring directly into mine. I've never seen such eyes. I think that was when she realized it because she turned around to see if there was anything else I could be staring at. As she did, her brown slightly curled hair fluttered over her shoulders.
I cleared my throat (as well as my wandering mind and eye) and said uncertainly, "Umm… Miss?" She was after all, a lady of some sort. I had dealt with ghosts as old as hers before, but they were never this, well, attractive.
Nombre de Dios… Out of all the bedrooms to haunt, the loveliest ghost I had ever seen was in mine.
I pushed the idea out of my mind, as she jumped up in surprise, exclaiming. "You can see me!" I couldn't tell if it was fright or anger that was mixed in with surprise. Maybe a bit of both, although anger wasn't usually what I got from lady ghosts. Mostly just a lot of crying about a lost pendants or letters from a lover. That sort.
I braced myself for any tears that might come and said, "Well, yes, I can." I added quickly, "Is there something I can help you with?"
She just looked at me in confusion and said, "Nobody has seen me in 150 years. Nobody." If I didn't know any better, I'd say there was a bit of pride in that count.
I replied patiently, "Yes, well, I'm a mediator. It's my job to help those like you, Miss." I've had to explain this quite a bit to my older ghosts. Since they had been dead so long, they were used to not being noticed so they always had the biggest shock when I tapped them on the shoulder.
"Susannah."
"Excuse me?"
She replied patiently in the same tone I had just given her, "My name is Susannah."
"Oh. All right then, Susannah." I continued, "What can I help you with?"
She sat back down with a small frown on her lips. Lightly painted rouge lips, I might add. The kind that could look pouty when it was to her advantage. But as she continued, my attention turned away from her lips and back to what she was saying, "What do you mean by help?"
"I mean, what is it that is keeping you here? I'll do my best to fix it so you can, you know, move on." That's the simplest way to put it to make her understand, right? I'd do whatever task she wanted, and then I could have this comfy loft to myself.
Wrong.
Instead, she raised an elegantly curved eyebrow in suspicion, "What if I like just staying here?"
I sighed, "But that's not how it works. You're supposed to move on to heaven or your next life or such." I thought that mentioning hell would only upset her more.
Susannah stood up again, a look of defiance on her face. Stamping a slippered foot, she said, "I have been here for a century and a half. Who are you to tell me to leave?"
I stood up as well, a little peeved now that she was trying the superiority card with me. I said, "My name is Jesse de Silva, and I am the mediator." I took a calming breath and continued a little more gently. "Wouldn't you like to move on? A lady like yourself can't possibly want to stick around here."
Somehow, this was the wrong thing to say. Susannah's eyes burned bright and the room started to rumble ominously. "I am not some lady to be ordered around! Not by you, not by my father, nobody!" If she kept this up the tenants below us could have ceiling and ghosts raining down on them.
I did the first thing I could think of to stop her. I took one quick stride forward to stand in front of her and seized her by the shoulders. The rumbling suddenly halted and Susannah's eyes were wide in confusion and surprise. I said firmly, "Stop that! You could hurt someone that way. If you're going to be mad at me, only involve me. Understand?" I caught most ghosts unaware when I suddenly touched them in anyway. It made them pay attention. I imagine it made quite the impression on her since she probably had not been touched in 150 years. That's a lot to take in.
Susannah seemed at a loss for words as she looked up me through her eyelashes. She kept staring as I let go of her. Fingering her necklace nervously, she muttered, "You… How…?" She didn't seem to be able to say more than that and dematerialized.
I unpacked an outfit, along with a heavier coat, and got dressed in the adjoining bathroom. I had a feeling I hadn't seen the last of Susannah and the last thing I needed was for her to catch me undressed.
Just as I finished combing back my hair, I heard the door unlock and the family walk in. I stepped out of my room to greet them and go on our way. Susannah was no where in sight.
We, the new family, went downtown to what seemed like a nice little deli place near the Metropolitan Museum (I made a mental note to visit there at some point). Turns out though that the place was actually much bigger than I thought, extending inward and packed with tables as if it preferred that rather than vying for space actually on the city street. It did have a quaint quality to it though. The walls were covered with signed photographs of famous people who had eaten there. I couldn't blame them though because they had the best cheesecake I had ever tasted. Ever.
Dad and Annie were practically reveling in the moment, their new growing family eating a lovely meal. At least, that's how they saw it. Oh, don't get me wrong, my new stepsiblings and stepmother were wonderful company, but I would hardly call the dinner moment heartwarming. Megan was making odd shapes out of her food with her hands, Jenny was already done and reading a book on UFOs, and Carrie had answered her cell phone midway through her salad. I got a paper napkin and cleaned up Megan as best I could, catching a glimpse of Dad and Annie again, who were still wearing identical adoring smiles. I realized in that moment that maybe it was this chaos that made them so happy. After all, only a family would be so openly unruly with each other.
After dinner, we went home and everyone said goodnight to me at my door. Annie seemed genuinely saddened (for the first time I've met her) that I was living alone. Dad comforted her and reminded her that Carrie and Jenny would be picking me up Monday to go to school. We finally parted and I staggered to my room to sleep. Jetlag wasn't working out too well. I didn't bother to take off most of my clothes, just threw my coat over the corner of the bed, and went to sleep directly on the covers.
In my jetlag induced haze, my brain distantly registered a faint floral fragrance. While comforting, I was sure I had just imagined it.
Of course, by Monday morning, I was positive I hadn't.