Timeout
By: ChocolateEclar
Disclaimer: I don't own anything that has to do with the Mediator Series by Meg Cabot/Jenny Carroll, including Jesse (*cough*darn*cough*), Suze, Paul, Father D, CeeCee, Adam, etc.
Claimer: I own Miss Evelyn "Eve" Gemma and the plot. (I still wish I owned Jesse instead of Eve.)
To ReaderCHica: Thanks a bunch for reviewing!
To Clavel: I have to agree with the whole "...things are always right at the end, if they are not right then it isn't the end…" quote. I couldn't bear it if Jesse and Suze didn't get together in the end or – even worse – if Paul and Suze became a couple. That would just kill me.
Hmm… Can Jesse get anymore adorable you ask? Good question. *laughs* I bet he can. It's great seeing in his natural element, no?
Thanks again for the review!
To La Angell: Here's the update… Thank you for the compliments. ^_^
To Corcra: GOOD GRIEF!!! AHHHHHHHHH!!!!! And here I thought I knew the Mediator Series inside and out, and I mix up the stepbrothers!!! AHHH!!
Okay, I feel better now. Thanks so much for pointing out my error. I already uploaded the fixed chapter.
The hottest senior ever, you say? *grins* Sounds…interesting. Hehe. And this guy looks like Rob? That's just…wow. Cool! *laughs* Truth be told, I have crushes on all of Meg Cabot leading males: Jesse, Rob, Michael, David, Jacob, etc. (I just finished reading "Victoria & the Rogue" and I officially love Jacob you see. I just started to read her other Avon True Romance book – "Nicola & the Viscount" – so we'll see if I add onto my list.
Thanks again! ^__^
To esodes08: Twilight's not planned to come out until January 2005 I'm afraid. I can't wait either… Thanks a bunch for the praise. It always feels good to know I'm doing a good job in keeping with the books. ^_^
Chapter 6: From Dreams to Reality
Every night I had that same dream, and every night it ended at the same spot – with me holding Jesse's hand and standing up. But just that glimpse of Jesse sent my heart thumping in my chest. What did it mean? Was I supposed to change the past back?
I didn't tell Father Dom about it – though I didn't know why at the time. Would he disapprove of my doubts of leaving things be? I decided to try to do something different in the dream. Instead of waiting for Jesse to come to me, I attempted to walk across the dance floor to him…but – for some reason – I couldn't. It didn't matter what I did, it was as if my body were stuck in place. An actress in a role.
What kind of repeated dream couldn't be altered?
On that fifth night – when I tried to vary things but couldn't – I awoke staring up at the canopy as usual, but with a new thought swimming through my head.
I soon realized what it was – a memory from Dopey's party…
"Susannah. Susannah, what happened? Are you all right?" the memory of Jesse said urgently after I had returned from the Shadowland, his eyes boring into mine.
Why had that of all memories resurfaced out of the blue? Did I miss something? I knew Jesse was concerned for me and that he probably loved me, but he'd never said those three little, meaningful words to me…ever. Was this one of his ways of showing love?
I shook my head and rolled onto my side. Argh. I'd never get to sleep now that I had that thought on my mind.
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The next day I taught Dopey several important lessons:
Lesson #1 – A sleepless Suze is a cranky Suze.
Lesson #2 – Even someone smaller than you can land you on your butt if provoked.
Lesson #3 – Only a fool interrupts a teenage girl while she's applying eyeliner unless it's an emergency. (Possible Results: Eyeliner in girl's eye and Major Butt-Kick for the party at fault)
In other words, Dopey has a sore butt courtesy of me, we both are grounded for a week, and I had to wash eyeliner out of my eye. Naturally, we both were late for school that day.
At lunch, I was called down to Father D's office. "Is everything all right, Susannah? Some of the faculty have become worried you've been overly…stressed lately," he said after I'd take my usual seat, a yoyo from the drawer of confiscated items in hand.
"I'm fine," I insisted. A little tired, but fine. "I should be asking you that question though."
"My head feels much better and the cut's almost healed," Father Dom responded. "You've been having doubts about if you're doing the right thing with Jesse, aren't you, Susannah?" he whispered after a few moments of silence.
"I…I have," I admitted finally. And then I explained the dreams and how I couldn't seem to change them.
Father D sighed and nodded at the end. He folded his hands, propped his elbows onto his desk, and rested his head against his fingers. With closed eyes, he mumbled something that distinctively ended in something like "lee."
He looked up at me – as if he'd said nothing – and asked, "Will you go into the past, Susannah?"
"I don't know," I whispered, my eyes downcast.
Father Dom let out a long breath and said, "I'll meet you at eleven tonight in the church."
"W-What?!" I gasped.
"It's time we stopped thinking of what-ifs and fix things."
"But why? I thought you didn't-"
"Never mind that, Susannah," said the old mediator with a weary smile. "I'll have everything ready – even an outfit for you to wear to fit in with 1850."
"But we don't have the incantation thing Paul used," I pointed out.
"You do recall Dr. Slaski, Paul's grandfather, is a mediator as well and they are his notes?"
"Of course I do. I'm the one who told you," I answered.
"Well, I've already spoken with him and he's lent me this notepad," said Father Dom, pulling the same notepad Paul had had the last time I'd ever seen Jesse. "It's my understanding he took them from his grandson's room."
I blinked, my mouth gaping. "Are you sure this is a good idea?" I managed to croak.
"Yes," said Father Dominic. "I am. Are you?"
Good question. I was sure nervous. What if I got trapped in time or something, or Paul had devised some kind of way to stop me from doing this? I certainly wouldn't put it past him.
But I had to do this no matter what. If not for Jesse, for me – even though I didn't want to be selfish.
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Jeez, women of the 1800s had a whole lot of layers of clothing. I must've weighed atleast two pounds more what with everything I had to wear to travel to 1850 California.
"Where'd you get the dress?" I had asked after arriving at eleven. I fingered the white and pale blue fabric and gazed up at Father Dom.
"The yearly play held here stores costumes like this one in boxes in the attic of the rectory," explained Father D.
I went into the girls' bathroom out in the hall and slipped off my clothes to replace them with a chemise (this fancy slip-like thing), a corset (which aren't as bad as they say they are in movies), several petticoats, and a two-piece dress (which was this matching skirt and bodice). Most of the petticoats were white, but a few were light blue, and the two-piece dress was all sky blue trimmed in white lace. To finish my attire off, I put on stockings, little black dress shoes, white gloves, and a tan bonnet held on my head with blue and white ribbon.
I felt like an actress going on stage as I reentered the chapel where Father Dom was drawing the circle with an eye in it on the floor in chalk. He stood up and inquired, "Quite different clothing, aren't they, Susannah?"
"Sure are," I said, my voice coming out ragged to my chagrin. I really was getting anxious.
"You'll be all right, Susannah," Father Dom said reassuringly. He held the notepad in his hands and flipped it open. "Are you ready?"
"As ready as I'll ever be," I mumbled, stepping inside the circle.
Father Dom cleared his throat and began to read. The words repeatedly crescendoed and died down in time with the pulsing glow of the ring around me. My skirts flowed around my ankles and I gripped them tightly. My heart was loud in my ears as I heard the final line. And then I was rapidly engulfed in green light as Father Dom called out, "Be careful, Susannah!"
And then I was flying through darkness with streaks of purples and blues and greens running across it. I'll admit I was scared stiff, yet I still appreciated how beautiful it all looked.
A trail of sakura petals flew past, along with a parasol, a rose, and a raven's feather. I stopped abruptly as the items gathered together, and a woman appeared before me. The feather turned into an actual raven that sat on her shoulder while the sakura petals settled at her feet and matched the pale pink color of her long-flowing gown – I have got to find a dress like that one day. Maybe not in the same color, but the same style.
She held the white parasol gracefully in one hand and the rose in the other. Her hair was ankle-length and pure white; her eyes pupil-less and golden. Her gaze gave me chills, and I backed away.
Truth be told, she reminded me of the Russell Crowe-like gladiator guy I met in the Shadowland, except she was obviously a "she," pretty, and not so dull. Maybe it was the whole mystical being thing they both had going on.
She was the kind of girl guys gawked over on magazine covers: a picturesque beauty with all the right curves. Still, something about her scared me. Could've been the freaky pupil-less eyes…
The raven let out a squawk, and I jumped. "Hush. Be silent, Tahemet," said the woman, her voice so cold it sent shivers up and down my spine. She turned her gaze on me and said neutrally, "You have finally come to repair the damage the ingrate shifter, grandson of the aged shifter, has done to the timeline of you and Hector De Silva. Aye?"
I nodded, gulping. "Umm…yes. If you don't mind me asking, who are you?" I queried meekly. I couldn't help it. The woman was scary.
"I am known as many, none are relevant to you, shifter girl," replied the Goddess – for Goddess I was sure she was. "You may call me Pasebakhaenniut, or Pase, if you must. Pasebakhaenniut means "the star that appears in the city," if you are wondering."
"Er… Nice name," I said. I was that nervous. "W-What's Tahemet mean?"
"Queenie," replied Pase with the tiniest of smiles and an affectionate pat on the raven's head.
"You do not need to fear me, shifter girl," Pase continued in that same toneless voice. "In reality, I will assist in your quest by arranging a means for Tahemet to accompany you."
"Really? Because you're some time goddess or something and Paul's screwed up time?" I asked, feeling a bit less edgy.
"You could say that," answered Pase with another little smirk. The rest of her face remained as blank and emotionless as a model on too much Botox. She held her right arm out to the right and the raven – Tahemet – alighted on her wrist. The bird leaned over Pase's hand and took the rose clasped in it in her beak. She then took off in one powerful beat of wings and plopped the rose in front of me.
"As long as you are outside of your own time, carry that rose with you," stated Pase.
I picked up the flower – careful not to prick myself on any thorns – and looked over the beautiful scarlet petals.
"Prick the finger of thy love's foe, and thou shall have good fortune. Rest thy fair rose upon thine heart's desire's grave as well, and thy good fortune shall be far greater," recited Pase, shutting those freaky gold eyes. She opened them again and added, "Fare thee well, Susannah Simon. Go, Tahemet!"
And then she had vanished in a swirl of sakura petals, and I was rushing through darkness with strips of light passing by. This time – cawing all the way – Tahemet flew nearby.
And then suddenly…we arrived. The darkness ended abruptly – sending me flying onto the grass. I picked myself up – it was hard in so many layers – and dusted off my skirts. I tucked the rose – which I'd held firmly in my hands in the "Timeout Tunnel," which is what I called the strange dark land I'd been in outside of time – in the ribbon wrapped atop my bonnet.
It was sweltering and the raven's insistent screeching didn't improve my growing rotten mood. What was even worse was Paul Slater was sitting in the wagon going by being pulled by two horses. He was chatting with three girls in bonnets and frilly dresses. One was definitely Maria De Silva – soon-to-be Mrs. Diego after she had Felix Diego off Jesse. The others I didn't know, but one was a redhead and the other a blonde. Redhead was giggling at something Paul had said as I dived behind a bush to keep from being spotted. The last I could hear of them – beside hoof beats – was Blondie saying in a heavy southern accent, "Oh, Mr. Slater, you are such a tease."
Oh, Mr. Slater, for getting us in this mess, if Jesse doesn't beat you to a bloody pulp later than I will.
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A/N: Sorry this took awhile. Don't forget to review though… ^_^ Bye!