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 Clavel: Here's the update! ^__^ Thanks for the review!
To Alda Rethe: If I weren't so lazy I would've used my library (it's the second largest in my state) as a source and looked for some good books about 1850 California. But I figured it would just be faster to use the web considering I have high speed Internet.
Anyway, nope, this story isn't over yet… My goal is to get Jesse a body of his own.
Also, I'm really considering doing a story about Jesse's sister Carmen, which would mean even more research on what little six-year-old girls commonly did growing up in the 1850s on a ranch in California.
Thanks again for reviewing! ^__^
A/N: It's chapter ten already? Wow. How time flies. This chapter is dedicated to ever person who ever has or will review this story! ^__-
Chapter 10: Keeping With Tradition
Diego went flying right onto his face where he groaned. He spun around and grabbed at one of my petticoats, which ripped with a resounding tearing noise. I kicked him in the jaw while holding Maria's arms behind her back at a painful angle.
Jesse was doing great with Paul too. At the moment, he was punching the other guy in the gut. Paul curled up – not without kicking Jesse in the shin though. The thing about ghosts that have been around for a long time is they're more experienced, and, as such, Jesse ignored the false pain. No body. No real pain.
Maria was trying to claw me with her nails so I would let her go to little avail. What got me to release her was Diego grabbing my neck. I let out a noise between a gasp and a gag and kicked Diego right between the legs. He grunted but still increased his hold around my neck.
A lot of things happened next. First, Jesse – noticing what was going on – punched Paul so he went flying into Diego – who promptly let me go and landed in a heap on the ground with Paul. Maria then grabbed Jesse's ankles while I was sputtering for breath. Jesse was sent down and wrestled for the upper hand against Maria, while they both swore – you could so tell they were swears – in Spanish.
Paul then grabbed both my wrists from behind me and whispered in my ear, "Come on, Suze. Let's leave these guys here."
"So you are double-crossing them!" I hissed, trying to free my hands.
"Slater!" hollered Jesse. I could see him with Maria in a headlock, and Diego coming up behind him.
"Jesse!" I yelled. "Behind you!"
Jesse shoved Maria away from him… Just in time to get punched in the nose by Diego. Blood gushing from his nose, Jesse cursed and slugged Diego in the stomach. With both Diegos down, Jesse advanced towards Paul and me. He looked good even all bloodied up and murderous.
"Let go of Susannah, Slater," Jesse growled.
"No can do, cowboy," said Paul, dragging me backwards. "You see, I'm going to take Suze and leave you and your other nineteenth century buddies here where you all can rot for eternity in a place with no time."
Maria hauled herself to her feet. She was bleeding pretty badly from a cut above her hairline, and she was scowling vehemently at Paul. "Traidor!" she accused in Spanish. It sounded too much like the English word "Traitor" to be a coincidence. "Just try and leave us here, Paul Slater, and we will find you and kill you for your treachery! No one betrays a De Silva!"
Diego was on his feet too now. He looked ready to kill more so than his wife. He had a heel print on his forehead from when I kicked him. He roared several things in Spanish at Paul.
"Not very popular, huh, Paul?" I asked mockingly.
"I don't need them now that I have you," he replied.
I snorted and kicked his legs. As a result, he pulled back his hands and I broke free. I rushed over to Jesse who glanced at me. Most of his attention – and mine – were on Maria and Diego, who were advancing towards Paul.
Maria giggled and watched with glee as her husband exchanged punches and kicks with Paul. I turned away then and said to Jesse, "Ready to go?"
Jesse smiled at me and asked, "Are we going to leave them like this?"
"It'll be good for Paul," I said.
"A lesson?" Jesse queried with a smirk.
"Yeah," I said. I stepped out farther away from the quarreling trio. I could hear Jesse following me as I called out, "Pase! Tahemet! How can we go home?"
Pase appeared then with a flurry of pink petals. Tahemet, squawking as usual, rested on her shoulder. Pase tossed a piece of her white, ankle-length tresses over her shoulder and eyed me with those creepy golden, pupil-less eyes of hers. "The rose, Susannah. Use the rose," she said more gently than ever before.
"Oh!" I said and took off my bonnet. It had slid down so it had been dangling behind me from its ribbon during the fight. I removed the rose from the top of the hat and snuck over by Paul. Jesse was peering worriedly at me, and he looked even more puzzled when I bent over the wrestling pair of Paul and Diego – who were so absorbed in kicking the crap out of each other they didn't notice me – and pricked Paul's finger with a thorn of the rose.
I came back over by Jesse, Pase, and Tahemet, and Jesse asked, "What was that for?"
"'Dunno," I admitted. "But I know it has something to do with this riddle Pase told me."
"Precisely," said Pase with a small smile. "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," she recited.
"So I just have to rest this on Jesse's grave?" I asked.
"Yes. Then something special will occur," Pase explained. "Now you must go."
Jesse and I nodded and watched as an opening appeared in the darkness. We crawled into it – Jesse first. Then me – and were sent flying in a tunnel that looked exactly the same as the one we'd just left…minus Diego, Paul, and Maria.
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We both were thrown out of the tunnel a few minutes later. The landing was more violent then last time, but not unwanted. I mean, I landed on top of Jesse with my face pressed in his chest. That has to be worth something. I certainly enjoyed it.
Soon I had to get up because Father Dom was yelling, "Susannah! Jesse! Are you both all right?"
So I sat up and Jesse said, "I'm fine. How are you, Susannah?"
"I've been better, but I'll live," I said. "What I wanna know is: how did you get in the tunnel?"
"When you fixed the past, he appeared in the church," Father Dominic explained. "I told him what was happening and we both agreed it would be a good idea to make sure Paul didn't try anything by sending him after you."
Good thing too. Three against one is not my thing – no matter how tough I think I am. I was so tired. This going back in time thing wasn't fun.
Not to mention looking at Jesse stung. He should be calling me "Traidor!" Or better yet, whatever murderer is in Spanish.
I stood up and said, "I'm beat."
"I suspected as much," said Father Dom. "Why don't you change before you go though?"
"Alright," I muttered wearily. I dragged my clothes from where I'd placed them in a pew before I'd left and went into the bathroom to change out of the "fairytale princess dress."
It felt so good to be in my black turtleneck sweater and matching, woven skirt. My black, knee-high boots were great to see as well. I stepped back into the church to see Father Dom and Jesse getting rid of the remains of the circle with the eye.
I decided it would be better to put the rose on Jesse's grave tomorrow. I was just too tired. "I'm going!" I called out.
"I'll escort you home, Susannah!" Jesse replied, saying good-bye to Father Dom.
"Good-bye, Susannah," said Father D. I nodded and left.
Grabbing my bike in front, I waited for Jesse. He dematerialized at my side in a few moments, scaring the living daylights out of me.
"What's wrong, querida?" asked Jesse after we started for home.
"Nothing."
"You're lying."
"No, I'm not."
"Susannah."
"Fine, fine. I am!" I yelled. I abruptly stopped pedaling and twisted around towards him. "You shouldn't want to even be near me!"
Jesse blinked at me confusedly before asking, "What? Why?"
"Argh. Because I helped kill you!" I shouted.
Jesse stepped back at that and said, "But wasn't that the purpose of you going back in time? To stop Slater from stopping Diego from murdering me?"
"It was, but it still felt wrong!" I yelled. I was practically bawling by then. Too little sleep. Too much I'd seen in one night.
"Shhh, it's okay," Jesse said. He wrapped his arms around me and pressed my head into his chest with his hand.
I let out a bark of laughter and said tiredly, "You said the same thing to Carmen when she saw a ghost!"
Jesse looked down at me intently. "She was a mediator as well, but my grandmother always called her a spirit shaman, so we did as well," he said. "Nombre de Dios, you were the girl that I danced with the day I died."
"Uh huh," I muttered into his chest.
"Susannah, you have to know something," he said. His voice called for me to meet his gaze. I complied and felt my breath catch as he said, "I may have regretted dying at first because I didn't understand why it had happened. But I never did once I realized what would've happened if I hadn't died. I would've been miserable and…"
"Jesse," I whispered. My blood was drumming in my ears so hard he probably could hear it.
"…I never would've met you, my querida," he continued. And then he leaned down to brush his lips against mine.
Had I been right in changing the past back? I didn't care anymore. What had happened had happened, and I couldn't change things anymore…neither could Paul for that matter. He'd said it himself, "…a shifter can use it only once in their entire lifetime to prevent someone's death. But only once."
I met Jesse's lips midway in that slit-second when he began to lean down. We sat there on my bike kissing until I was breathless. Then we made our way home in a companionable silence.
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We crept back into the house and up the stairs. Jesse plopped down on the window seat as I shut the door behind me. I went to sit down with him, but he stood up and pushed me towards my bed.
"You need to sleep, Susannah," he insisted.
I turned to him and pleaded, "But I just got you back."
"I'll be sitting right over there when you wake up. I promise, querida," Jesse said, nodding towards the window seat.
That reminded me of something. "Why did you almost call me querida when we met back in your time?" I asked. I took off my boots and yawned. Then, I slipped into bed and stayed sitting up, waiting for his answer.
Jesse went over and sat on the seat, so he was now outlined in moonlight. "It is a tradition my great-grandfather started," he paused there and looked at a random spot on my wall.
"Why are you so uncomfortable all of a sudden?" I asked, chuckling. "What was the tradition?"
Sighing, Jesse said, "When a male De Silva heir finds someone he, well, finds suitable, he's supposed to call the girl querida. I almost said it on accident that day, but it felt…"
"Right?" I offered.
"Yes," Jesse said, nodding. "It felt right." He turned to me and said, "At first I called you that just because you were the first girl I'd met since dying, but then it really gained its true meaning."
"Jesse…" I whispered.
"Good night, querida," Jesse said.
I smiled. "'Night, Jesse." I turned over and fell asleep, knowing Jesse would keep this promise.
And of course, he did. The next morning he was the first thing I heard as I rubbed my eyes and yawned.
"Good morning, querida."
That one little foreign word made me happier than anything he'd said before. It meant he loved me even if that's not what he'd intended it to symbolize at first.
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A/N: This story isn't over yet, but I think the end is near. I'll be tying up all the loose ends like the significance of Pase's like poem-thingy and what Angelina and Gabriel have to do with Suze… But then again, maybe not. I never plan too far ahead. ^__^
A/N 2: Remember to review! ^__^ Bye!