A/N: Yay! I remembered Gina's last name! I'm so proud of myself.

Chapter 5

Needless to say, I did not sleep very well Friday night. It took me quite a while to get the image of Paul and Kelly kissing out of my head. Then, I kept thinking about Damien, the newest member of our mediator family, and his ghostly friend Dylan (the one who crashed our "date"). To top it all off, in the middle of the night, I was struck with the realization that my stepbrothers might have deprived me of underwear. I had to get up, turn on the light (Gina, most vocal sleeper ever, rolled over and murmured "Nos cool i sauray"), and dig through my suitcase before I was able to relax. My suitcase, however, provided another distraction from sleep: a note, reading:

"Hey, Suze.

Like what we packed for you? Sorry, but the only way we could make sure you'll come home is to keep all your clothes. Don't be too pissed.

Jake, Brad, and David"

I was pretty sure that Jake was the one who actually wrote the note: it was too neat to be by Dopey, and David's writing was compact. These three sentences took half a page in Sleepy's round, wide, sprawling handwriting.

I must have fallen asleep eventually, because I woke up abruptly on Saturday when Gina's mom pulled open the curtains in Gina's bedroom. From the glare which invaded our formerly dark room, I guessed that it was almost noon.

Gina groaned and pulled a pillow over her head. Even though I was the one who was used to a clock three hours behind, Gina still slept later. Her idea of a normal weekend schedule was to sleep until around four, then party the night away. No, she's not a vampire. I mean, who ever heard of a vampire with orange hair?

"Suze, you have a call," Mrs. Augustin whispered to me.

Gina threw her mother a very dirty look. ""Whatdi you neea wakus both ufor?"

I heard a light laugh, like a tinkle from one of those wind chimes that old people are always hanging up on their front porches. "It's about time for you to be getting up anyway, sweetie."

Gina grunted and pulled the pillow back over her face. I took the phone from her mother and said "Yeah?" Hey, don't start on me. That's not how I normally answer the phone, but you would be grumpy too, if you were woken up at the crack of dawn when you had serious jet lag. Okay, maybe not the very crack of dawn, but at least the chasm, or perhaps the wide ditch of dawn.

"Suze?" Damn. Not Jesse. Then again, I'm not sure if I would want to be talking to him right then. I was not exactly at my best. Thank god whoever was on the other end couldn't see me. Hearing me was bad enough.

"Um, this is David." He sounded a little hesitant. At the time, I thought he was worried that I'd be mad about the clothes thing or his waking me up. I was annoyed, and I told him as much.

"It's two forty-two." David informed me. "You should be up by now. It is healthy for teenagers, such as yourself, to get a normal, eight-hour sleep each night. Waking up at three in the afternoon is not normal."

"Hey," I told him. "That's not fair. It's still eleven something in Carmel. I haven't adjusted to the time change."

I got the sudden feeling that Doc was about to tell me that "eleven something" was still pathetically late (not that he'd use the word pathetic), so I headed him off at the pass.

"Why are you calling?"

David's voice became even more unsure than when he first told me it was him. "Well, um, actually…"

With a sinking feeling, I realized that whatever he was going to say probably had to do with the paranormal. Wonderful.

"I-I know you don't like to talk about…ghosts" (he whispered this last word, as though his quietness could induce similar calmness in me) "b-but… I think there was one in our house last night."

"Not possible," I said automatically. "He doesn't live there anymore."

"I don't think it's the same ghost as…you know, the one that haunts your bedroom." My stepbrother had actually managed to interpret my mass of fragments and unreferenced pronouns correctly. "He's always been pretty peaceful."

"And this ghost hasn't?" I asked skeptically.

Doc's awkwardness, if anything, increased. "Well…no." He sighed. "Have you talked to mom or dad recently?"

"You mean since I left?" I asked. "Sure. I called when I got here to let them know my plane hadn't sunk. Like there's an ocean between California and New York."

"And that was the last time you spoke to them?"

I affirmed.

"Then you wouldn't know."

"What wouldn't I know? Cut the cryptic crap and spit it out, David." That was nice. Really illustrated me at my best. "I'm sorry Dave. It's just…I went on vacation to get away from ghosts and I've already had to deal with one." That would be Dylan. Not that Damien and I had actually helped him yet. We were going to meet up later.

"Last night," David began his story. Finally. "I was up late―"

"How late?" I inquired.

"Maybe midnight." That is so not late. Well, maybe for an eighth grade it is. "I was working on a project for my stats class. You know, I have to make a poster with the data I got last week."

"Yes, David. I know." I had to cut him off; otherwise he would have gone on all night about his project. I mean, hearing about it once was enough. Five or six times was major overkill.

"Sorry," he apologized, getting back on track. "Well, I heard these weird noises." Wait a minute, now I was hearing weird noises too. Was he just trying to scare me? "I thought they were coming from the living room, but I wasn't sure." Not, they weren't in my right ear, they were in the left, the one away from the phone. "It was fairly spooky, actually." Talk about spooky. This low rumbling sounded like someone dying. "Especially as our house is haunted." I didn't see any ghosts that could be causing it. "In the interest of scientific observation, I went to go see what it was." This was really creeping me out. "I was walking down the stairs, when suddenly—"

I didn't hear what David said next because at that moment, I heard a huge rasp and I screamed.

"Suze?"

Breathing rapidly, I tried to locate the source of the noise. I saw the covers on Gina's bed rise and fall gently, and realized that she had been snoring.

"Sorry. Go on." That was embarrassing.

"Well, when I got to the landing, you know, between floors, the bookcase started to wobble. And before I could move, it fell on me."

"What?" I ejected. "The bookcase fell on you?"

"Yes," David affirmed. "An hour later, I was in the hospital with two broken ribs and a sprained ankle."

"Why didn't someone call me?"

"Well, it was only last night," Doc explained. "Mom and Dad probably didn't want to wake you." That was a laugh. Gina and I had been up until 4 am, talking about our evenings and catching up on old gossip.

"But the reason that I'm calling," my stepbrother changed the subject smoothly "Is that it wasn't an accident. It couldn't have been. What happened is physically impossible."

"Are you sure?" This conversation was so not one that I wanted to be having. "I mean, maybe the bookcase was just unstable or something." I desperately wanted what happened to be an accident. Then, I wouldn't have to get involved.

"No, I know for a fact that the bookcase was stable. And if it fell, it would have fallen backwards, not forwards. Someone pushed it."

"And you're sure no one was there?" I was grasping at straws here. "It was fairly late, you were probably tired."

"No one was there." Dave repeated.

I sighed. "Fine, I'll look into it. Try to stay out of trouble while I'm away, will you?"

"Okay, bye Suze."

"Bye." I waited for Doc to hang up. He was waiting for me. The air was heavy with tension, or so it seemed to me.

"David, I-I—"

"It's okay, Suze. You don't have to say it just because I'm in the hospital." How had he known what I was trying to say? How had he known how hard it was for me?

I don't even know why it was so hard for me. I said "I love you" to my mom all the time.

True, I'd been saying it to her since I was a baby, so maybe she wasn't the best person to compare. But I could say it to Jesse too, and I met him later than David.

I remember the first time I told Jesse I loved him; he already knew it, of course, but this was the first time I had spoken it out loud. It was about a month after he became alive again, mid-January. We hadn't made up after our latest quarrel. I had woken up late that day, rolled out of bed, and into the first clean clothes I could find. Makeup: concealer, blush, I'd do lip gloss in the car, no time for eyes.

Dopey: Get your ass down here!

Andy: Language, Brad.

Sleepy: Why're you yelling? Some of us are trying to sleep.

Me: Coming!

Mom: Susie, honey, hurry up.

David: Here, I saved you some toast.

Me: Where's my math homework?

Dopey: Did you do it?

Andy: On the coffee table

Me: Thanks

Dopey: Can we go now?

Sleepy: Will you be quiet?

Mom: Bye kids.

Andy: Have fun at school.

Dopey: Where're the keys?

Me: I gave them to you.

Dopey: I don't have them

Sleepy: Shut up!

David: Keys are on the hook.

Dopey: Nuh uh.

David: Catch

Dopey: Ow.

Me: Grab the keys and let's go.

Dopey: It's your fault we're late.

Me: Fuck off.

Andy: Language.

Me: Fine. Go masturbate in a corner, then.

Mom: Susie!

Me: What?

David: Come on.

Dopey: We're getting cold out here.

Andy: No, Max.

Mom: Maybe he has to—

Dopey: Get in.

Me: Why do you get to drive?

Dopey: Because.

David: Buckle up.

Me: For the love of god.

The ride to the mission was relatively uneventful. As was the rest of my day, aside from completely sucking. I hadn't had time to organize my stuff, so I couldn't turn in a lot of my homework. Plus, I was really self conscious about how I looked. I was wearing jeans and some shirt that I dug up from the bottom of my closet. It was orange, a color that looks awful on me. I don't think my socks were matching.

My hair was even worse. It was scary. I mean, yes, I had stopped straightening it all of the time, but that morning I hadn't even had time to finish brushing it. Curly hair, especially mine, gets these massive tangles that have to be undone really slowly, with a comb.

So I think I've made my point that by the end of school that day, I was completely stressed, depressed, and generally not feeling too great. That was why, when I saw Jesse standing in the parking lot outside of the mission after school, instead of my heart giving a happy lurch, it sunk to somewhere around my shins. Which, by the way, I had not been able to shave that morning.

I was happy to see him, I really was, but that feeling was drowned out with the urge to get home, into the shower, and to wash away all the memories of that crappy, crappy day. The fact that Jesse looked totally dreamy (and I was not the only one who could attest to this. Half girls coming out of the mission were staring at him.) made me feel even worse about myself. He must have noticed my discontent, since he seemed suddenly nervous.

"Um, would you like to go for a walk, Susannah?" I nodded, and prepared myself for the routine "I'm sorry" speech; Jesse and I argued a lot. Cee Cee told me once that we were the most argumentative couple she ever met. Adam said that we reminded him of his grandparents.

"Well, I just want to apologize for anything I did that might have insulted your dignity. A lot of what I said was inappropriate." Notice how Jesse never actually admits that he's wrong.

"I'm sorry too. I got really worked up; I overreacted." Notice how I don't either.

Okay, so I kind of made up that part of the memory. That's because I don't even remember what we were arguing about. As I mentioned before, we do it a lot. Argue, that is. But I most definitely remember what came next.

"I—I was very worried, querida. I thought you might still be mad at me." Blah, blah, blah, yada, yada, yada. Hey, just because I'm in love with the guy doesn't mean I hang on to his every word. "And I don't want you to be mad at me, because…because…" That's it. Just say it. Say it, Jesse, I mentally coaxed him.

"Because I need you, I can't live without you. You're the reason that I'm living." Getting warmer… "and when we fight, it's all I can think about. I'm not even sure if I should be thinking about you this much, it's not proper," Christ. "but I just can't help it." As Jesse got hotter and hotter, his words sounded almost feverish. "I feel sinful, but when I'm around you I just don't care because you light something up inside me and—" Whoa. Run-on sentence much? "and it won't go out, which I know because I've tried to stop it but now I just want it to engulf me because" Say it. Say it. "because it feels right. We feel right."

Close enough. I put my hands on the sides of his face. "I love you, too, Jesse."

I could see him trying to process what we'd both said. His fingers curled gently around mine, but I don't think he noticed. He muttered something in Spanish, then looked questioningly into my eyes. I saw his mouth open and close several times before he finally managed to put his thoughts into words. "I love you?" he sounded unsure, but his voice became stronger as he repeated himself. "I love you. I love you, Susannah. I love you." He leaned forward a few centimeters and kissed me. Needless to say, I kissed back.

A/N: Sorry it took me so long to update, but I had major writer's block in the middle and Jessie swore she'd kill me if I didn't put in some fluff, so I couldn't just post what I had. I hope you all like it, and I didn't confuse you too much by switching to play mode in the middle.

Speaking (well, writing) about JESSiENESS, I'm doing a tagteam with her which should be up sometime soon. We're thinking of calling it "Tupperware" but if you have a better name we can use, tell us. Check her profile!

Now, you know what I'm going to say. Do I even need to bother? REVIEW! NOW! I COMMAND YOU! STOP LAUGHING! I'M NOT THAT SHORT! OKAY, I AM! BUT I CAN STILL BE COMMANDING! SORT OF! I'M GOING TO STOP NOW! REVIEW!