Disclaimer: Don't own anything you recognize. I own this plot alone. All other things that your recognize from the Mediator Series belong to Meg Cabot. A/N: This is a fanfiction where two roles have been reversed. I tihnk you'll find out who very quickly, *wink wink.* Enjoy!

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*Flashback. *

I walked in to what was to be my new room. It was perfect. Everything was pink, and very feminine. The double bed had a beautiful canopy, and just below the huge, foggy window was a plush window seat, with beautiful looking cushions on it.

'Do you like it Susie?' mum asked, frowning, and twisting her auburn hair around a slender finger in an apprehensive manner.

I smiled. It was just so perfect. I could tell that her and Andy had spent a lot of time decorating it.

'It's . . .' I trailed off, as I heard something that made me stop dead.

It was a laugh. A very deep, cunning laugh.

And then, I saw something behind a grinning, sweaty Andy that made all blood drain from my face.

This room was already occupied.

'I - but - who . . .' I stuttered, looking wildly past Andy.

Mum's worried frown turned into an annoyed one.

'Oh, Suze,' she groaned, 'not again . . .'

~*~

As soon as I got Mum and Andy out of the room, I walked straight over to what had made me so frightened before.

There, leaning nonchalantly against my new closet, was a guy. Quite a guy. I would go as far as to say he was a stud. I mean, h-h-hot! His dark hair fell messily yet smartly over his forehead, and he was looking out the window in a very bored way. Oh, and it didn't help that what he was wearing was just YUMMY. He donned a tight fit shirt over a body that was totally to- die-for! You could totally see the definition of his washboard abs. And the biceps weren't shabby, either. Oh, not at all. His jeans were baggy, and very street wear, with chains and belts dangling on the right. Around his neck was a bulky silver necklace, and sunnies were shielding his eyes. But he was totally tanned, obviously because he got out a lot.

Hottie alert!

It was just a pity he was dead.

That's right, a ghost.

I could totally tell, by the way that his body was glowing in that spectral way that only ghosts do.

I just stared for a few seconds, until he finally turned his head. And I saw his mouth drop open.

He whipped off his sunnies, and I saw his eyes . . . They were gorgeous, mysterious, and roguish all at the same time. They were an icy blue, yet there was something dark about them . . .

'Er, hi,' I said, still shocked.

He blinked, and then seemed to choke on his own spit.

'Holy crap, you can see me?!' he asked in awe, standing up straight. Whoa! He was tall, man! I stumbled back a step, because he was looking at me in a really weird way. It was stunned, yet . . . I dunno, uh, smug. Like I said, it was weird.

'Well obviously,' I said, rolling my eyes. Yeah, okay, I tossed my hair too, because I already made it clear that the dude was a good looker. 'Oh, I can hear you too. Isn't technology these days amazing?'

He was still looking at me up and down.

'Who are you?' he asked, crossing his arms, and leaning back on the closet, acting all cool and casual again. well, he at least, seemed to be over his shock.

I wasn't.

'Excuse me?' I snapped, 'Who are YOU? And what the hell are you doing in my room?' I put my hands angrily on my hips, trying to look all "don't mess with me, bud." However, it only served to make him smile. It was a smile that made my spine seem to click out of place slightly. It was crooked at one end, which did nothing for my fear. Yeah, so I was scared? It's not a crime, is it?

Well, okay, for me it is, but yeah.

He was still smiling that little twisted smile, and it was way freaking me out now.

'Get out of my room,' I hissed, and turned to leave.

Then, in one swift movement, this guy had grabbed me around the waist, and had slammed me against the wall. Not brutally, or anything, but it was enough to know that he was dangerous.

'You are a medium,' he said, looking down at me, with a suppressed ferocity burning in his icy eyes. That smile was still tugging at his lips.

'No kidding, blockhead,' I retorted. Again, he slammed me against the wall. This time, it hurt. Okay, now I was pissed.

'Hey, buster, piss off!' I snarled, and gathering my strength, I shoved him back. He staggered, and fell inches from my new bed. He wasn't angry though. He was still smiling.

'I have a name, you know,' he said with amusement. He stood up, and sat on the edge of my bed comfortably. Again, I swallowed nervously.

'What is it, numb nut?'

He chose not to hear me. 'Do you want to know my name?' he asked, resting back on my bed, his arms above his head. He was still looking at me.

Still smiling.

Oh, I'm so glad HE had something to smile about.

When I didn't answer, he just laughed softly, shaking his head ever so slightly at me. My skin crawled with dread.

'I'm Paul. Paul Slater. And this is MY room.'

I blinked, and then scoffed. 'Yeah, nice name, bucko. And no, this is not your room. It's mine, now. I legally own this place, and even so, I'm sure that frills don't work with you. Now leave, or I'll make you.'

The Paul dude sat up slowly. 'Really?' he asked, delightedly. 'I'd like to see you try.'

Suddenly, something registered.

'Wait,' I said, stopping dead. He raised his eyebrows expectantly. 'Uh, how do you know that I'm a mediator?'

'Medium,' he said, 'But mediator is also a correct term. I know, because I used to be one.'

Whoa.

I mean . . . WHOA!

'Seriously?' I asked. This was out of the ordinary, now. I went and perched myself on the window seat. He was still watching my every move . . .

'Yeah. Well, more or less. I was more powerful than a medium, but I'll work with that, so you understand.' He stood up again, and I flinched slightly. Hey, the guy scared me . . . His eyes were so pale, yet so entrancing, haunting, even. He was dangerous. Oh, very dangerous. I'd have to watch my back, here.

'By the way, what's your name?' he asked, going over to my dresser, and picking up one of the bottles of red nail polish that mum had set up oh so carefully for me.

I took a moment to reply. 'Ah . . . I'm - well, I -'

Paul laughed, examining the nail polish more.

'Suze. Just call me Suze,' I said breathlessly.

'Suze,' he said raising his eyebrows as he bought the bottle right in front of his face. 'Susan? Suzanne? Or . . . Susannah?'

'Susannah,' I answered. 'But don't call me that. Suze will do -'

SMASH!

I jumped, and let out a startled shriek as the little bottle of vanish in his hands exploded, blobs of scarlet flying everywhere, even through him. Little shards of glass drifted to the floor, among the small puddles of red.

Okay . . . There was a guy in my bedroom who'd just shattered a bottle of nail polish with his MIND. Can anyone sense a problem for little Susie?

'Nice one,' I snarled, standing up instantly in protest, 'for your information, that was Nailfinity! You know how much that costs, you bastard?'

Oops.

Unexpectedly, he materialized right in front of me. My eyes went way wide. He grabbed me by the arms, and dragged me over to my bed. I squealed and struggled, but he wouldn't let go. I mean that grip he had on my arms? Yeah, it was like iron.

IRON.

'Let go of me, you psychopath!' I scowled, still thrashing about recklessly, as he threw me down on the mattress. Then, just before he could do anything, uh, rash, I rolled off the bed, and was out that room like it was 70% off at the shoe store.

At the foot of the stairs, I plopped my butt down, panting. This was not good . . . Not good at all . . .

The ghost of earth's hottest guy was in my new bedroom. Just why did he have to be an asshole? WHY? What did I do to deserve THAT?! Why couldn't I just get a normal, nice dude who'd call me sweetheart and would not hold me in vice-like grips that made my arms go all red and puffy?

This was NOT COOL!

Yeah, you could understand why I was pretty miffed . . .

'Susie?'

I screamed, and turned to see who dared call me that.

'Paul! Leave me alone! I -'

I stopped, as I turned and saw David, (although, I affectionately call him Doc,) standing there, with his sticky out ears, his flaming red hair, his too-big glasses, and his mouth open in polite disbelief.

'Er, you all right?' he asked, frowning under bushy orange eyebrows.

I swallowed, stood up, and seized him by one of his abnormally large ears. 'Never, I repeat, NEVER, under any circumstances, call me "Susie." Do we have an understanding?' I whispered murderously.

He nodded, terrified. 'Yeah, I got you. No Susie. Sorry, uh . . . What do I call you?'

'Suze,' I replied. 'Suze is good.' I let go of his ear, and he took a few steps back, bashing into the wall behind him, and knocking a photo frame to the ground. The glass shattered.

He went beet red. 'Uh, you didn't see that,' he said, bending over and cleaning it up, providing me with a lovely view of his bony posterior. I wrinkled my nose, and smiled in spite of myself. 'And I'm sorry for calling you Sus . . . sorry, I won't say it. I hope that you aren't at all displeased with me.'

I smiled. I mean, he was just so nerdy, it was kind of cute. 'Nah, we're cool.'

Again, he blushed.

I . . .

*End of flashback . . . *

. . . 'Suze. You wanna listen?'

I shook my head. Great, I was daydreaming. Again.

'What?' I asked blearily. I was sitting in my room, with my head against the desk, trying to study. It had been two weeks since I'd arrived in Carmel, only to find that my bedroom wasn't as vacant as it should have been. I looked over my shoulder, and saw that that Paul guy had materialized behind me. Directly, my heart began to beat a little faster. It hadn't been exactly smooth sailing since we had first met. It was like living on the edge. Everyday, I knew that my life was in danger. Because, when that Paul dude got mad, he always took it out on little ol' me . . .

And I was nothing compared to his ghostly powers.

'Uh, hey . . .' I said nervously, edging away from him slightly

'Look, you wanna know how I died?' he asked with annoyance. 'If I tell you, will you stop asking?'

I sat up, attentive. 'Yeah, okay . . . Maybe we can see what's holding you back.'

He raised his eyebrows at me. Oh so typical.

'Yeah, whatever. I'm not moving on. I'm staying right where I am. But yeah. I do know exactly what's holding me back. Or who, I should say.'

This was a bit freaky. He was, like, glaring at me, with a fire in his eyes that suggested . . . I dunno, the need to kill, or something.

'And that is?' I prompted, moving my hand in small circles in a "continue?" manner.

His look became darker.

'I'm still here because of my killer. His name is . . .' He trailed off. I could see that his fists were clenched, so his knuckles were shining white. Whoa. Suddenly, things around my room began to shake slightly.

'Paul!' I said in alarm. 'Just tell me the dude's name, and stop it! You're scaring me!' he was too.

He relaxed, but only a bit.

'His name,' he said, spitting slightly in loathing, 'is Jesse De Silva.'

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*Flashback . . . *

(Paul's POV.)

I heard the woman and her husband walk in, and didn't think anything of it. They were always in here, fixing up this gloomy room, and painting everything pink.

Eugh.

I wasn't in the best mood. Because, judging my the decorations, I knew that some little bratty girl would end up moving in.

And a little bratty girl was no fun at ALL for me.

So when a chick of about sixteen stepped in, I stopped and looked. Whoa, what a babe. I looked with interest at her. Oh, she was very curvy, with a beautiful face, and the most stunning emerald eyes I'd ever seen. And the hair . . . It was floating around her shoulders in a cloud of majestic brown. Okay, things were definitely looking up. I watched as she was looking around her room with a dreamy expression on her face. She had looked, everywhere, in fact, but at me. I was blocked from view by who I assumed to be her father. But then, why should she look at me? I was a ghost.

Because of bloody De Silva . . .

'Do you like it . . .' the woman asked, frowning. I didn't here the girl's name. Oh well, I'd get it off her later, somehow . . . By scaring the living daylights out of her? I laughed.

Once I was done looking at my new, ah, roommate, I turned to look out to the ocean, that was so close. I like the beach, it's a wicked place to be, with all the surfing at the sea spray. Just a pity that I'd never be able to do it again . . .

I must have been looking out there a long time, because suddenly, I felt the gaze of somebody. I turned my head, and there stood the chick, gawking at me like she was trying to catch flies, or something.

Hang on!

I whipped off my glasses, to check that my eyes weren't playing tricks on me. Nah, she was looking at me, all right. In her eyes, I could sense a feeling of wonder and admiration. This was normal. I used to have this affect of girls back when . . .

. . . When I was alive.

But this, this was a totally different situation.

'Er, hi,' she wheezed. Poor babe, looked like she was about to faint or something. Hehehe, that wouldn't be so bad . . . I could play knight in shining armour.

But yeah. I blinked, and my throat seized up.

'Holy crap, you can see me?' I checked. I could feel an excitement brewing in me. Oh, this was good. Very good. She was in my bedroom, with a bed little than a meter away, and she was mine . . .

All mine.

I smiled in total satisfaction. Oh, I liked this a lot.

She seemed unnerved by my grinning. 'Well, obviously,' she said in a way that suggested she was trying to act tough. But I could see right through her. She was scared of me. Yes! She rolled her eyes. 'Isn't technology these days amazing?'

My grin widened. Oh, she had my sense of humour. Blunt sarcasm. We were old souls. I looked at her body again, and was aroused even more.

I folded my arms, and leant back, still smiling in a smug way. Oh, it was so hard to rein in . . . But I'd have to.

'Who are you?' I asked, raising my eyebrows. I felt her dread.

'Excuse me?' she shot back acidly, 'Who are YOU?! And what the hell are you doing in my room?!'

That amused me even more. Oh, she was already mine. She was so unbelieveably sexy. Perfect for me. What a flawless body! This situation couldn't have been more perfect. My grin widened, and my eyes were burnt on her. I felt her shrink within herself. Her eyes opened further, and she subconsciously stepped back.

Then, she put her hands on her hips. I could see she was annoyed. Annoyed that she had allowed fear to claim her so easily. She now glared at me, but the dread didn't leave her eyes.

'Get out of my room,' she whispered in a way that made me snap. I couldn't control this desire any longer. As she turned to leave, I stepped forward, seized her around the waist, and slammed her against the wall. She looked up at me wildly. I breathed heavily down on her. Oh, self-control was so hard!

'You are a medium,' I stated, my breath slightly ragged. My eyes were narrowed, fighting the craving that burnt me from within. Her eyes were so beautiful. Like a sparkling lake of green, in the sunlight. They were like magic, I would go as far to say.

'No kidding, blockhead,' she snapped, and tried to get free. She almost did too. Oh, she was strong. Perfect . . . I slammed her on the wall again, and she looked very hopeless for a split second. I had already won her. It was too easy.

'Hey, piss off!' she shouted, and I felt myself flying back. Like I said, she was strong. But not strong enough for what I could do to her . . . I landed very close to her bed. 'I have a name, you know,' I said, and sat on the edge of it. it was a very cosy bed. I saw her gulp.

'What is it, numb nut?' she said fiercely.

I smiled. Oh, if only she knew . . .

'Do you want to know my name?' I said. I lay down on her bed, propping my head up with my hand, still watching her. Oh, she was divine. Once again, I praised God for this perfect prey that he had sent to me. She was so naïve, so pure.

So mine!

I laughed out loud, and shook my head in disbelief. Where HAD this idyllic luck come from, I ask?

She didn't answer me. I could see her hands beginning to shake. 'I'm Paul. Paul Slater,' I introduced, nodding slightly.

She blinked, and then sneered. 'Yeah, nice name, bucko. And no, this is not your room. It's mine, now. I legally own this place, and even so, I'm sure that frills don't work with you. Now leave, or I'll make you.'

I sat up. Now, this was getting fun. 'Really?' I asked gleefully, 'I'd like to see you try.'

Her eyes narrowed, but then, she stopped dead.

'Wait,' she said, taking a step toward me, 'how do you know that I'm mediator?'

Mediator? Oh yeah, that's what some people call mediums.

'Medium,' I corrected, 'But mediator is also a correct term. And, I know, because I used to be one.'

Her reaction was very rewarding. Again, I thought that she was going to faint. Her eyes were fixed on me in incredulity, and her luscious lips were opened in a tiny O.

All yours, Paul.

'S-Seriously?' she stuttered. She stumbled over to the window seat, her hand on her chest. I could imagine that this was a lot to take in. I almost felt sorry for her, you know. Almost.

'Yeah. Well, more or less. I was more powerful than a medium, but I'll work with that, so you understand,' I said fairly. Of course I was more powerful than a stupid medium! I was one of the greatest shifters that had ever been! I had cast all others into shadow, including my grandfather, AND De Silva! I stood up angrily, and saw her recoil a little. She was looking rather dizzy, as if hoping that none of this was happening.

Well, babe, it is.

'By the way, what's your name?' I enquired with an arched eyebrow. I wandered over to her dressing table. Feugh . . . There were heaps of little bottles of nail polish, hair brushes, little jewelry boxes, and all those other girly things that us guys steer clear of. I smiled maliciously, and picked up one of her nail polished. The liquid inside was as red as the blood I used to bleed.

She hadn't replied me, but was opening her mouth and closing it again. 'Ah . . . I'm - well, I -'

I laughed. This was just so funny. Out of all the girls that I'd met, no one had been as scared as this. Mind you, I'd never ambushed anyone in their bedroom, and no other girl had seen me as a ghost. But I'm sure this one knew that I could kill her with a single look.

That was what was so appealing.

'Suze. Just call me Suze,' she said in a jumbled rush.

'Suze.' That was nice. Nothing too slutty, nothing too horrible. I held the bottle of nail polish right in front of my face, reading the label. I wanted to make sure that it stained. 'Let me guess . . . Susan? Suzanne? Or . . . Susannah?'

Susannah,' she answered, still looking at me strangely. 'But don't call me that. Suze will do -'

As she said that, I concentrated all my brain power and my willpower on the liquid in that bottle. And . . .

SMASH!

I relished in her brief scream, and smiled. The vanish exploded everywhere, just as I had commanded it to. It stained everything and anything within ten centimeters. I began to laugh, as she fell off the window seat.

'Nice one,' she snarled at me, her face contorting in anger and some fear. She stood up, glaring at me. 'For your information, that was Nailfinity! You know how much that costs, you bastard?'

Oh, the vehemence in her voice made me crack like a twig. I lost control completely. Instantly, I made myself disappear with a scintillating blue glow. I materialized right in front of her standing before the window seat, and heaved her over to the bed. She screamed and thrashed about, but I didn't care. Nor did I let go. I knew that this was going to happen soon. Why not now? I'd been dead for six months, I needed to . . . indulge myself

Grinning malevolently, I pushed her down. She was yelling bloody murder at me, screaming, 'Let go of me, you psychopath!' but that only served to fuel my passion even more.

But then, just as I let go of her wrists for a split second, she jumped clean off the bed and was out of the room like a stampede of elephants was after her.

I sank onto the bed, still breathing heavily.

I laughed, staring sinfully at the open door.

Oh well. There was always next time . . .

I'd have her in the end. As I always did. **************************************************************************** ********* A/N: Well? How bad was it? Nah, I think it was all right. Just please, I hope to get about five reviews. I have already written chapter 2, but I want to see how many reviews I can get first. Please tell me what you think, and give me any ideas! Oh, tell me what you think of Paul, too. That's important to me, seeing as he is the character that I have the most trouble with. Thanks for reading! Remember, REVIEW NOW! Love Princess Roxanne.