Well, I got some inspiration for a new story. Hope you enjoy it. I can't promise a lot of updates, but I have midterms coming up (which means half days), and I don't study, so I'll have some free time on my hands.

Rating: T

Disclaimer: I do not own the Mediator series. Duh.

Summary: Post Twilight, Suze and Jesse's relationship is growing, but their happiness is having an effect on Father Dominic, whose own true love was cut off too soon… but what if his darling Marilyn returns after all these years? What if Suze realizes she can travel back to keep her from dying in the first place?

Chapter One

The phone on the wall rang, and instantly I perked up. "Room 212. Oh, yes, hello, Lianne." Sister Ernestine's lips pursed, but she responded to Father Dominic's secretary with a, "Yes, of course. She'll be right down." I had already gathered by books when she hung up the phone and turned to me. "Miss Simon, Father Dominic wants to see you. And will you please ask him to schedule your meetings at a different time? You've been called out of Religion seven times in the past two weeks. There is no way you will pass the exam if you're never in class."

"Sorry, Sister, I can't help when Father Dominic wants to see me," I said, as I breezed out of the room.

I stole a moment in the bathroom to fix my hair and makeup before continuing to the office. Not that I'm trying to impress Father D., but rather someone else I was sure was there.

"'Morning, Lianne," I said, and she waved distractedly as she spoke on the phone to someone—judging by her frazzled tone, the Monsignor.

"Ah, here she is," Father Dom said. "Good morning, Susannah."

"Hello, querida," Jesse smiled, standing up as I entered the room. He kissed me quickly, and pulled out the chair for me at Father Dominic's desk. He placed his hand casually on my back as I sat down.

"Hey, Suze," Paul said, slouching in his chair with one foot resting on the corner of the desk. Jesse looked at him disapprovingly.

"Now, have--" Father D. began, but Lianne soon buzzed in.

"Father, Monsignor Constantine is on the phone. I told him you were in a meeting with some students, but he needs to speak to you now. Line three."

Father Dominic sighed. "Of course, Lianne. Excuse me, children." He picked up the phone, hit a button, and said tiredly, "Hello, Peter."

Jesse and I politely tuned out (I think Paul was too busy texting on his phone to have been paying attention anyway.) His free hand found mine, while his other one continued to gently make circles on my back. I rested my other hand on his knee.

"Are you free this evening, Susannah?" he asked quietly, while Father Dominic continued to speak with increasing frustration and weariness.

"I have a student council meeting until seven," I said, "but I can blow that off, no problem."

Jesse smiled. "No, no. I have a lecture until then, I'll be done about 7:15. Do you want to come over afterward, for dinner? Or do you have too much homework?"

"Of course not." Like I would pass up dinner with Jesse to do pre calc. "I can walk over to the Society after my meeting." I squeezed his knee.

"Pasta or chicken?" he asked with a smirk.

Jesse was still learning to cook, but he was trying. Even though his pasta was just from a box with sauce from a jar, and his chicken was one of those rotisserie ones that you stick in the oven for 20 minutes, it was delicious. I would gladly give up Andy's gourmet for Jesse's, well, less than gourmet, cooking.

"Pasta," I said, smiling back at him. I quickly pecked his lips, but then Father D. cleared his throat, and we separated. But he didn't look angry, just… sad.

"Sorry about the interruption. Now, any new ghosts you've encountered?" Paul shut the phone and slipped it into his pocket.

"I'm still working with Jim," Jesse reported dutifully. "He's beginning to open up about his parents." Jim was a nine year old boy who died a few years ago, and didn't know how he died—but from what he was saying to Jesse, he suspected Jim was a victim of child abuse. His research showed that Jim was murdered, but the case was unsolved.

"I just got rid of Erin," Paul said, uninterested. We all looked at him incredulously. "Relax. I didn't exorcise her or anything. I just finally got her to realize her boyfriend was an ass and not worth hanging back here for."

"Excellent," Father said, though a bit uncertainly. "Susannah?" I shrugged.

"Nothing yet. Not since Alice, last week." Thank God. I was thoroughly enjoying my ghost-free week off.

"Good, good… let me know if you are helping someone else." I nodded. "Well, now, is that all?" No one said anything, so he continued. "That's it, then. Susannah, Paul, you may go back to class. Jesse, are you going to work?" He nodded, standing up.

Jesse is going to begin classes at the Carmel State University in the fall, and until then, he is working two jobs to save up for paying tuition, and keeping him in his small, one-room apartment downtown. He works mornings and afternoons at the local branch of Borders, and gives lectures at the Carmel Historical Society in the evenings.

We all left the office, and while Paul continued down the hall, Jesse and I stopped to say goodbye. "I'll see you at about seven?" Jesse confirmed, his arms circling my waist and pulling me close.

I wrapped my arms around him in a hug, and pressed my lips against his, and then again, and then for a third time…

"Ahem. Susannah, you ought to get to class." I nodded.

"Bye, Jesse," I said, catching his hand as we pulled apart and squeezing it.

"Bye, querida," he called, as I followed Paul's footsteps down the hall. I heard Father Dom ask Jesse, "Can I speak to you a moment?" and I worried I had gotten him in trouble.

When I slid back in my seat, Cee Cee flicked a note onto my desk. You look flushed, it said. Did Jesse happen to be at your mediator meeting? I glanced over at her and grinned, confirming her suspicions. She grinned back wickedly.


"Okay, I think we've covered, like, all the important stuff. You all are free to go," Kelly proclaimed. I began gathering my things when she spoke again to me. "Suze, do you, like, have a ride home?" Startled, I shook my head.

"I'm heading to the Historical Society, actually. It's just a few blocks away."

"I'll drive you, no prob." Surprised, I thanked her, and we headed out to her car (after she told Debbie to find another ride, which definitely piqued my curiosity). "Like, why are you going there, anyway?" she asked as she put the car into drive and pulled out of the parking lot.

"Oh, Jesse lectures there. I'm meeting him up after work, and then we're heading over to his apartment for dinner."

"Wow, he must be really smart if he works there," she said.

"Yea, he is really smart. He's going to school next year to me a doctor," I said, taking a moment to be the Proud Girlfriend.

"That's awesome," she said half-heartedly. "So, how are you guys doing? Like, relationship wise."

Suddenly, I realized exactly why she had offered me a ride.

"Fantastic," I said enthusiastically. "Never better."

"Great," she said, even less meaningfully than before. "Where did you guys meet, anyway? I've lived here for almost my whole life, and I'd never seen him before that dance back in December."

I figured the truth wouldn't fly ('Oh, he was haunting my bedroom') so I came up with the vague answer Jesse and I had prepared for this question. "Just around the neighborhood. You know. He didn't really get out much. He was new to Carmel." Her Porsche pulled up in front of the brick building. "Thanks for the ride!" I said, and I slid out of the car, waggled my fingers at her, and shut the door. She sped off a moment later.

I was a familiar face with the receptionist, and I didn't even have to ask before she said, "Jesse's lecture isn't quite finished. You can slip in the back, if you want. It should be over in a minute or two." I thanked her, and went down the hall, glancing briefly at the paintings and relics on the wall.

I slipped into the back of the small auditorium, where Jesse was in the front, speaking about Old Carmel, and what went on back in the days he was alive. A PowerPoint presentation was reflected on a screen, with photographs, pictures, and letters that had been scanned onto a computer.

At the end of the PowerPoint, he asked if anyone had any questions, and I raised my hand. I was in the back, so I don't think he could see my face. "Yes?" he asked, pointing in my direction.

"Can you tell me about the de Silva family?" I asked with a serious face. Jesse squinted, discerned my face, and grinned.

"Of course. Manuel de Silva immigrated to the Monterrey Peninsula in 1810, with his wife Mercedes, and started one of the largest ranches in Northern California. They had three children, Miguel, Jose, and Carmen. Manuel divided his ranch between his two sons, who, later on, decided to join the two together with the marriage of Miguel's oldest son, Hector-" Jesse smirked at me, "-and Jose's daughter Maria. Unfortunately, Maria was already in a relationship with a slave driver named Felix Diego, who murdered Hector and thus ended the de Silva line."

"Isn't your last name de Silva?" someone in the front row asked. "Are you related?" I stifled my laughter, imagining the group's response to an honest answer.

"Coincidence, I suppose," Jesse said breezily, though he did catch my eye. "Perhaps a very, very, distant cousin." There weren't any more questions, so people slowly began leaving the small auditorium, and I started walking down to where Jesse was drinking from a bottle of water and shutting down the computer. "Hey, querida," he said, as I approached him. I leaned over the seat between us and kissed him quickly.

"Nice answer," I said jokingly.

"Thanks," he said, laughing. A woman approached him, who had obviously been sitting in the audience.

"Mr. de Silva?" Jesse shook her hand.

"Please, Jesse."

"I just wanted to tell you how fascinated I was by your lecture. It was like you had actually been there," she praised. I quickly turned my burst of laughter into a cough.

"Thank you very much," he said politely. She rested her hand casually on his arm—a little too casually.

"I was wondering when your next lecture was. I would love to see you again." Jesse and I exchanged glances.

I was actually rather amused. This woman was in her mid 30s, easily, and she was hitting on a 20 year old guy.

"Um, well, I am going to be speaking about the artists and writers of the area on Tuesday, at 6:00. I hate to, uh, cut this conversation short, but I've kept my girlfriend waiting long enough," he said. He was obviously more nervous than amused by the whole situation.

The woman looked at me, and I smiled and waved. "Hello."

"Sorry to keep you," she said. "Thanks again."

"Not at all," Jesse said, obviously relieved she didn't press the matter. She went back to her friend, and they left, leaving Jesse and me alone.

"Someone has a cru-ush," I said in a sing-song tone, to tease him. He rolled his eyes as he locked the projector into a closet, grabbed his jacket, and took my hand as we left the auditorium. He signed out, said goodbye to Barbara, and led me out the door towards the parking lot.

"You know, someone else has a crush on you, too," I said. He smiled.

"You?" I looked at him disgustedly.

"Where would you get that idea?" I asked, and he laughed and wrapped his arm around my waist. "No. Kelly has the hots for you," I informed him. He looked thoughtful.

"That blonde girl? I thought she and Paul were going out." I shook my head.

"He broke up with her about a month ago. Now, though, I think she has her sights set on you. She drove me here, just to see if we were on the verge of breaking up, so she could sink her paws into you." Jesse shuddered, and I laughed. "Don't worry, I set her straight."

He opened the passenger seat door of his old, beat up Honda—the thing he loves best in the world, besides me, he assured. I slid in and buckled my seat belt (Jesse is big on car safety) as he climbed into his own seat and started the car and headed off toward his apartment.

He held my hand loosely as he drove easily through the streets, then suddenly broke our comfortable silence. "Have you noticed something… odd with Father Dominic lately?" he asked. I thought, and remembered this morning.

"No, not really. Did he yell at you for making out with me?" Jesse shook his head.

"No. That's what I'm talking about. He just said something about Jim, then told me I was a very lucky man, and to hold on to you."

"That's weird," I said. "He usually starts going on about abstinence and 'appropriate interactions' whenever he sees you touch me." Jesse nodded as he pulled into the parking lot alongside his building.

"I don't know, maybe I'm imagining things. He just seems… off," Jesse said, after a struggle for words. He opened my car door, and helped me out.

"I'll pay closer attention next time I talk to him," I said. "Maybe something's bothering him."

We went up to his apartment, and Jesse busied himself in the kitchen boiling water and slicing bread, while I settled on his bed (Jesse didn't actually have a couch, as his apartment was practically miniscule. There was his bed, a desk, a dresser with a TV and radio, and a bookshelf in the only room besides the kitchen and the bathroom) and flipped on the TV. I knew Jesse loved Jeopardy! and I have to say, it was growing on me, too, so I flipped it on just in time for Final Jeopardy.

Jesse shouted out the answer from the kitchen before I even began to contemplate it. He was, of course, right.

About twenty minutes into Wheel of Fortune, Jesse popped his head in from the kitchen. "It's ready," he said. I switched off the TV and scampered into the kitchen, where he had a small candle lit in the middle of his worn, wooden kitchen table. Two plates of pasta were already laid out, with a basket of French bread and a small dish of parmesan cheese on the table.

"It looks delicious," I said, and sat down in the chair he had pulled out for me, and we began to eat.

We talked about school, and he told me a story about this crazy old woman who always comes in on Thursday at 12:15 exactly, asking for a copy of some obscure book that Jesse is fairly certain doesn't exist, as he has searched every single database available, and it isn't in any of them.

After we ate, Jesse began doing the dishes but I grabbed his hands and pulled him away from the sink.

"I only have about half an hour before I have to head home," I said, and pulled him along beside me into the other room.

I sat down on the bed, and he immediately was at my side, his arms around me, his lips against mine, caressing gently.

We fell against the mattress as his tongue found its way into my mouth, and we moved carefully until he was on top of me, one of his knees between mine. His hand had found its way to my waist, and was teasing the skin where my skirt and t-shirt had separated.

I moaned softly into his mouth, and his hand on my lower back urged me against him, as his other worked its way up my stomach and under my bra.

We continued this way for a good amount of time, until I felt something familiar pressing against my leg, and I knew Jesse would be ending it soon, lest he lose control and do something he might regret.

I do have to say, though, he doesn't need to worry about self control, because he obviously has that bit down if we haven't done it yet.

Just as I expected, I soon felt his warm hand pull out from under my shirt, and he rolled onto his elbow, leaning over me slightly and panting. I sat up, straightened my shirt, and deftly re-hooked my bra. His hand went to my cheek and held my face gently. I smiled, kissed him gently, and then glanced at his clock.

"It's about time that I should go, anyway," I whispered, and he looked over at the clock too, and sighed.

He rolled off the bed, as did I, and I helped him wash the dishes, then he drove me home. We kissed for several minutes in his car, before my mom turned on the porch lights and I knew she knew we were out there. "I'll call you tomorrow," he whispered, and kissed me one last time before I slipped out of his car and up to my house.

I said the required things to my parents about what I did at Jesse's (had dinner, watched some TV. I left out the making out and getting to second base part), before heading up to my room.

But I couldn't climb into bed and fall asleep, dreaming about Jesse. Because on my window seat was sitting a girl. Who happened to be dead.


Hope you enjoyed chapter one. I don't know when I'll get chapter two up, but from prior experience I know that when I get a lot of reviews, I get inspired to write sooner.