A / N: Okay guys, I'm totally sorry I haven't updated in so long. Apparently my teachers don't believe in that whole "easing the students back into school work" thing. Assholes. Thanks to all of you who have been reviewing diligently, I love you for it. Anyway, I hope this chapter is okay; I seem to be suffering from severe writer's block lately. Why, I have no idea…anyway, I'm open to all kinds of reviews – tell me what I can do to improve, yadda yadda yadda. I was hoping to make this chapter really long, but I needed to get this baby updated ASAP. By the way, if there are tons of grammatical and spelling errors, I have a perfectly valid explanation to give before you stab my eye with a spork.
Chapter 4
I rolled over, freshly awake, and groaned as I remembered the torture my mother had planned for me today. Shopping. I seriously doubted the existence of any kind of god at that moment.
A quiet knocked sounded at the door. "Susie?" my mother's voice called out quietly. "You awake, honey?" I sighed and slid out of bed, silently dreading the day before me.
"Yeah, Mom," I answered, trying to keep the despair from creeping into my voice. "I'm just going to go take a shower." I heard a shuffling on the other side of the door as my mom began to walk away with a murmured "Okay, hon".
I fell back onto my bed, wishing I could have been born some kind of sentient being with amazing magical powers instead of a person who could see and talk to ghosts. Whoever created mediators really is an asshole. But, I reasoned, if I was unable to interact with ghosts, then I never would have met Jesse.
Jesse. There was another unresolved conflict. Ever since that kiss I had been foolishly certain that things would start looking up in that department…stupid, stupid me. I turned on the shower and waited for the water to heat up, still wallowing in self-pity, and walked out into my room to pick an outfit for the day. I shuffled past the bed and was halfway to the closet when I heard an unusual – and yet familiar – growl, and darted my gaze over to the window seat where the maker of that growl-turned-purr was sure to be. There he was, the little demon. Spike. And yet, I couldn't keep my sour mood from lifting when I saw the faint outlines of a ghost as Spike's favorite person – and mine, I admit – materialized in front of me.
"Good morning, Susannah," he said, voice rumbling deep in his chest. I feigned polite disinterest as I slid past him to my closet. He was less likely to disappear that way (believe me; I've had practice with this). I shuffled idly through my hangers, finally deciding on a black silk tee with cap sleeves and my favorite knee-length denim skirt. After all, I was going to the mall, and who knew what amazing shoes I might be forced to try on there? Couldn't be giving a free show to the salesman now, could I? Resting my clothes on my forearm, I sidled past Jesse again before deeming it an appropriate time to answer – ten and a half seconds after he spoke. Not that I was counting.
"Hello, Jesse," I was getting good at this disinterest thing. "How are you this morning?" I finished, depositing my clothes on the bed and going back to the closet to look for a pair of shoes.
He turned to face me each time I passed him, so I could hear him quite clearly when he said, and rather shortly, "I am fine. The priest, however, is not." Shit. I had forgotten about that. Trying not to sigh too gustily, I turned to face him.
"About Marcus Beaumont? God, what did I do wrong now?" I asked, desperation finally creeping into my voice. Really, after having to deal with him, and then my mom, you'd think that some people would at least have the decency to wait until the subject of their ravings felt more human. I was about to repeat all this to Jesse when I noticed the look of utter confusion on his face…wait, confusion? What the hell? "Jesse?" I prompted, and his expression turned back to polite disinterest. (Um, hello? That was supposed to be my expression, thanks very much!)
"That is not what I meant, Susannah." Now it was my turn to be confused.
"What? but you said –"
"I know what I said, Susannah." He interrupted harshly. I felt my mask of confusion trickle away, only to be replaced by one of shock. He noticed, apparently, because the hard glint in his eyes softened. "When I said that the priest was not fine," he continued, calmly this time, "I meant that your Father Dominic was not fine, physically." It took a minute for the words to sink in. Physically? What was that supposed to mean? Realization struck, and I felt my breath leave me in a sharp rush.
"What?! Where is he? What's happened?!" Rather than stand around and wait for an answer, I dove into my closet and grabbed an old pair of jeans and my motorcycle jacket with one hand, simultaneously reaching for my ghost busting tool belt with the other. Jesse, apparently understanding that I was planning on doing whatever was in my power to help Father D. after watching my actions in silence (did I mention that he's highly observant? Um, not), held up his hands, palms out, as I rushed towards him.
"Wait, Susannah, just wait a moment. You have an engagement with your mother today, don't you?" God, like that really mattered? I kept the impatience out of my voice with difficulty.
"Yes, Jesse, but I really think that Father Dom's well-being is more important than Christmas shopping. Now please, would you tell me what's going on? Where's Father D.?" Jesse started shaking his head before I even finished.
"Susannah, the priest is going to be alright, eventually. I just wanted to let you know –"
"Eventually?!" I practically shrieked. "Eventually?!" I dropped everything I held in my hands then and grabbed Jesse's shirtfront in my fists. "Jesse, if you don't tell me what's going on right this second, I swear I will –"
"What, Susannah?" he cut me off again, grasping my wrists with his iron strength and pulling them firmly from his shirt. "Go rushing down to the mission to see what's going on? Despite the fact that if you would just listen you would understand that everything is under control and the priest is already at the hospital? That all he has is a minor concussion after being hit in the head with a large potted plant?" he continued, his voice rising. "That he was hit in the head because he managed to anger a very temperamental ghost?" I felt my eyes widen as he related his story, the outing with my mother temporarily forgotten.
"What? When did this happen, Jesse?" I had to remind myself that, unlike Jesse's, my voice would be heard if I raised it. Breathe in, breathe out. Right.
"Just this morning," he answered absently. "Listen, Susannah, you must not leave this house today." His statement brought me out of my shock. Not go out? As in, not go shopping with Mom? I wish.
"Jesse...I can't. Mom has been waiting for this day for a year – I can't just cancel on her all of a sudden, and for no apparent reason! Besides, why? The ghost wasn't after me, it was after Father D." I subconsciously cocked my head to the side, like when Max does when he's waiting for me to dump my leftovers into his bowl. Only, I wasn't exactly waiting for food.
Still keeping hold of my wrists, Jesse pulled me over to the bed and pushed me gently onto it, his face now alighted with worry. "No, Susannah," he said, even more gently now. There was something else in his voice too…was that concern? "The ghost attacked the priest because Father Dominic refused to tell him where you were."
A / N: Ah ha! How was that, my lovelies? I confess, I had no idea where this was going when I started this chapter…tell me, how was it? Are you very upset with me? whimpers I know it's kind of short, but my piece of parental started bothering me halfway through it. Well, it is almost 12:00 AM….anyway, please review if you have the time. I'm not going to say that I won't update until I get 10 reviews or whatever; I hate it when people do that. Remember, any suggestions or constructive criticisms are welcome! TTFN!
