A/N: Thank you to everyone who read the last chapter, I checked my traffic stats and am very grateful for the views. A little bit of S/J fluff; I'd like to know what you think so if you do read, please tell me if you like.
In the parking lot.
The agitated buzzing of my cellphone alerted me to Jesse's arrival, and I got off the sagging bed to unlock the door to my motel room. I'd liberated myself from Morningside three days prior, and was now hiding out from the label using the funds from my savings account – the one Paul didn't have access to – before they figured out I was no longer safe and sound in rehab, if they hadn't been told already. I wouldn't be surprised if they had a few of the nurses on payroll. The room wasn't great, granted, with its instant-coffee walls and moulting carpet, and the suspicious smell coming from the shower, but I decided it was exactly the place that nobody would expect me to come. Plus, the cheaper the place, the longer I could stay here and away from the prying eyes of Paul Slater.
Lying back down on my bed, I heard Jesse's hand on the doorknob and looked up to see his smiling face in the doorway. He still looked tired, but the glow of his skin was back, and the look he gave me was positively radiating. "Hi, querida," he said.
"Hi," I replied, and made room for him on the bed. He sank down next to me and lifted a brown paper bag onto his lap. "Ooh, you bring supplies."
"The very best," he said, and emptied a variety of vending-machine goods on the quilt cover. I picked up a bag of Cheetos and tore them open. "Don't say I never give you anything."
"Um, I do believe it was my twenty that paid for these," I retorted, and I noticed Jesse's face fall slightly. "Oh, God, what did I say?" Jesse made a dismissive gesture with his hands.
"Nothing," he replied, and helped himself to some Milk Duds. "It's just that… one day, I will take you on a real date." Now I felt like an ass.
"That's not what I meant," I said, softly, and patted his knee affectionately. "I mean, come on, Cheetos! They're my favourite!" He grinned. "So, what's the word on the street?"
Jesse retrieved a newspaper from the bag. "Well, they've figured you out," he said, and he showed me an article a few pages in detailing my departure from rehab. "My guess is Paul was probably alerted to this a few hours before it went to print." Damn. I took it from him and began scanning the words.
"Ugh, they always use the crappiest pictures." Jesse gave me a look. "O.K, I'll be serious now. Even if Paul does know I'm gone, is he really going to guess that I'm in a crappy motel in Monterrey? It's hardly just round the corner from Morningside."
"Probably not," Jesse responded, but he looked dubious. "I'm just wondering if maybe we shouldn't move you. I mean, we still haven't figured out a plan of action."
"Speak for yourself. I thought my guerrilla-style assassination plan was stellar."
Jesse didn't look convinced. He began rifling through the newspaper again. "I was just thinking that maybe… you could move in with me." He said the last bit so quietly and quickly that I barely saw his lips move. But when the impact of his suggestion caught up with me, my heart turned over in my chest.
"Come live with you?" I repeated, and I could have sworn Jesse's cheeks coloured slightly.
"There's plenty of space in Marta's room," he added quickly, as if I had gotten the wrong idea. "Even with the baby."
"I don't know," I murmured. "I mean, I wouldn't want to put your family in any danger or anything…"
Right that second, there was a knock at the door. I yelped in apprehension, and leapt across the room to hide in the closet before Jesse could answer the door. Through a crack in the wood I spied the familiar figure of housekeeping trying to step over the threshold.
"Not today, thank you," Jesse argued politely, and eventually they got the hint. The door closed, and I stepped out of the closet, breathing a sigh of relief.
"O.K," I conceded, and Jesse grinned. "Maybe your place would be the best solution after all."
-x-
"Jesse!"
As we slid the key into the lock and eased our way into Jesse's apartment – me bundled up heavily in several beanie hats and sunglasses – we were greeted by a cacophony of sisterly demands.
"Josefina stole my bracelet, Jesse tell her-"
"Marisol drew on my colouring book, she knows it's mine-"
"Jesse, what's for dinner?"
He shot me an apologetic look as he detached several sisters from his body. I laughed at his misfortune, and began relieving myself of my disguise. As I set my final hat down on the kitchen table, a silence fell amongst Jesse's siblings. I glanced up, to see all three of them gazing at me in wonder.
"Chicas," Jesse said, "meet Susannah Simon. She'll be staying here for a few days."
"Susannah Simon," breathed the youngest, who I took to be Marisol. "I hear you on the radio all the time." I squirmed awkwardly at her admiration. I garnered similar looks from Josefina and Mercedes.
"We're all big fans, right, girls?" Jesse filled in, and they all nodded in awe. "Why don't you all go and wash up for dinner?"
"What is for dinner?" Mercedes persisted. "I'm starving." She rubbed a hand across her stomach for extra impact.
Jesse pulled a face. "I'm not sure," he said, and he began examining the insides of cupboards. "It has to be quick, I have to go to work-"
"Well," I piped up, and all heads snapped back to me. "I don't know about you, but I make a mean bowl of pasta." Jesse began immediately trying to dissuade me.
"Oh, no no no," he said, and he began pulling trays and dishes out of a cupboard. "You don't need to do that, you're a guest, I couldn't possibly ask you to-"
"It's fine," I insisted, and I strode over to the kitchen, placing my hands over his to halt his fussing. "Please," I urged, and he desisted. "I want to do this. To thank you for everything." He sighed in surrender.
"O.K," he said, and gestured to the few units and the hob. "It's all yours. I have to go change."
"Go," I ordered, and turned to his three sisters. "O.K, kids, who wants to help?"
-x-
I sat alone, now, in the darkness of the lounge, reflecting on the turn of events this evening had taken. Jesse had disappeared off to work just ten minutes after dinner, and I had spent the night bonding with his kid sisters, who were in equal parts adorable and troublesome. They argued, constantly, flicking each other with specks of pasta sauce and kicking each other with their jelly shoes under the table, until Marta returned home with her baby son in her arms, and silence fell across the table.
"Hi," she had said, even more weary than Jesse had been the day he had come to the retreat. "I'm Marta." She shifted the toddler in her arms, who grizzled and eyed me with suspicion. "You must be Susannah."
"I am," I said, and I rose from the table to greet her. "I'm just staying her for a few days-"
"You're more than welcome," she replied, with a wan smile. The baby moaned again, and she pulled a face. "I'm sorry," she said, "but can you hold him a second? I really need to go change." I took him in my arms and marvelled at his weight as she disappeared. I sat back at the table, surveying the De Silva sisters as they now ate their food willingly, and rocked the small child in my arms, letting myself, just for a second, picture what life would be like if I lived with Jesse forever.
The sound of the door disturbed me from my reverie, and I turned my head to see Jesse creeping into the darkness. "Hey," he whispered, and I smiled. "Why is it so dark?"
"I guess I like it," I replied, and reached behind me to switch on a lamp. "Sorry. Everyone's in bed."
"That's O.K," he said, and he sat down beside me, stretching his toes in front of him. "I'm just glad you survived De Silva dinnertime."
"It was fine," I equivocated, thinking back to the family scene I had witnessed. "Marta's back. The baby's check-up went well." Jesse visibly relaxed.
"That's good," he said, and he reclined into the sofa cushion. "I'm so tired I could just go to sleep right here." He closed his eyes, and he looked so peaceful for that one second that I couldn't take my eyes off him. I envied his calmness, and closed my eyes too to try and emulate it, sinking back and grazing his shoulder with mine. "It's good, right?"
"Very," I admitted, and exhaled deeply. His presence was soothing; I could feel myself relaxing in spite of everything. "Thank you for everything, Jesse. I'm so lucky that my only friend is you."
"I would do anything for you, Susannah," he said, and I felt his hand slide over mine and squeeze my fingers. My eyes snapped open at the electricity of his touch. I wondered if he felt it too. I turned my head to face him. "Susannah," he said, but I placed a finger on his lips.
"Don't say anything," I whispered, and moved my hand to around his neck, pulling him closer to me, and brushing his lips gently with mine, just for a second. My skin tingled at the contact, and I felt a rush of excitement run up my spine that I had never felt with Paul.
I tilted my head backwards to break the kiss, and exhaled, but Jesse moaned at the interruption and pulled me back, sinking his mouth into mine and running a hand through my hair. It was the most perfect moment I had ever felt, more addictive than applause and more satisfying than the most perfect set and yet strangely not so; the harder he kissed me the harder I wanted him to, and I pressed myself against him as we explored each other gently and tenderly.
"Jesse," I murmured against his lips, and he smiled.
"Susannah," he returned, before he lowered us down so that we lay side by side on the sofa, and we delved further into this newfound world of our own.