Elevator Ride with the Devil
Disclaimer: Nope, not mine.
A/N one-shot, I won't brag… but what d'ya think? By the way, setting: everything happened except the end of Twilight, Jesse didn't come back and lived his own little life as a caballero. Sorry for his fans, next fic is for you!
I'm exhausted! Seriously… all day I've been running around in the corridors of hell –no not Shadowland- and now I was finally going to take the usual elevator ride down to the lobby, most probably bitch about my life to the cleaning lady Lisa and then grab a cab and lock myself in my luxurious apartment.
Sheesh… what a life!
You might be wondering who I am. So I'll give you the hard, cold facts. My name is Susannah Simon and I would die before telling you my second name. I'm twenty-three, what I like thinking is the perfect age: old enough to drink young enough not to think. Yeah, motto of my life… well, for now anyway. I am a big apple girl, got the accent and all the shebang. Happen to look pretty good in my own way… and I don't mean in my own ugly way. I have been told many times that I am BE-U-TIFUL!
Physical description: green eyes that have hardly shed tears –or at least, that's what I like to think-, long brown hair that is fashionably cut but let's not go into the details. I have what my dad likes calling generous lips which basically means they're rather big but most guys find attractive and my best-friend Cee-Cee says she envies me. So, I can't exactly tell you the angle at which my nose is or the exact size of my ears and I'd rather massage Sister Ernestine's feet then tell you how much I weigh, just know that I'm fit (kickboxing and what not). As for my height, I'm pretty tall yet not gigantesque. Yeah… sounds good.
So, right now I'm describing the end of my tiring day. I didn't feel like my job has anything that I can potentially brag about so I skipped the whole I'm-a-psychiatrist-so-how-do-you-feel-about-that. Have you ever seen Freaky Friday? Yeah, that's pretty much my job description though I sure as hell am NOT joinable when on a shopping spree. So sue me, I actually have a life!
As it is, right now I'm too tired to enjoy my life so I'm postponing partying with Gina and Cee-Cee (my two best-friends in the world) and their beaus, Adam and well, yikes, my step-brother.
Yeah, you might want to know, I have step-brothers and well, they're considered hotties which I find is gross and Gina kind of started dating the eldest… Jake or as I call him Sleepy because well can be quite slow BUT that was in the old days and caused by hard work to earn himself a pimp car.
God, I said pimp, shoot me now.
But I should stop talking about the irrelevant details that form my life and talk about the present.
I'm waiting for the elevator to GET TO MY FLOOR and I am losing patience. That might be because the freaking thing is blocked and I'm getting impatient with the putz who's boinking his secretary in the upper levels. And to make matters worse the guy waiting next to me is sweating profusely from the armpits and I'm quite certain he's not a fellow psychologist but a patient with a twitching problem.
I'm not prone to trust people with twitching problems who need to get counseling. (A/N I don't exactly know what I'm talking about so yeah, no prejudice. Just in case you're thinking of landing me a law suit and all. I'm innocent. Plus… technically you don't know who I am but whatever… back to the story.)
Elevator still not getting here, I am starting to lose it. Seriously, how long can that guy TAKE I mean, five minutes not enough? He's in a frigging elevator with a girl who SHOULD –emphasis on the word should- have some dignity.
I'm starting to believe maybe they aren't actually having a quickie –do you have a quickie anyway?- but are playing a game of poker and do not know the rules.
It's been ten minutes and I'm getting cramps in my leg. Sweaty guy left and so did Miss. I-chew-gum-hoping-to-be-cast-in-the-next-Willy-Wonka-movie!
Good news is, the elevator is FINALLY here, and I am getting on it!
You know what. I don't really want to get on it.
You're mistaken, it's not that there is incriminating evidence of uh, a couple's sexual experience in the thing itself – let me pause to say EWWW! - Or that hypothetical couple might be sucking face. In fact, there was just ONE guy in the elevator. The thing was, he's a lawyer.
You know the whole 'Kill all the lawyers, kill them tonight,' thing. SO TRUE!
I don't happen to hate lawyers, just this guy. You might not know much about me so here's a little flashback from when I was a teenager with… spirit…
"That was pointless," he said in a low voice, as we made our way towards our lockers. "I mean, we have our career paths cut out for us, don't we?"
"Well, you can't really make a living doing what we do," I said, then remembered, too late, that Paul certainly seemed to have managed to.
"An honest living" I amended.
But instead of feeling ashamed of himself, as I'd meant him to, Paul just grinned.
"That's why I've decided on a career in the legal profession," he said. "Your dad was a lawyer, right?"
I nodded. I didn't like talking about my dad with Paul. Because my dad was everything that was good. And Paul is everything that… isn't.
I'll give you three guesses who became a lawyer and for some pretty freaky and irritating coincidental fluke in fate is standing in my elevator.
You got that right, Paul Slater, the devil himself.
I could always wait for the next one but my legs are cramping and my stomach is screaming 'ICE-CREAM IN LOBBY!' while my brain is trying to focus its attention on the threat in the blasted box.
So all I can think of is to get in the bloody thing and pretend I don't know who the bastard is. Which, I am telling you, is quite a feat because I SO long to give him a nice bloody nose!
The door closed behind me and the music elevator started… don't you hate that damn tune? And then Paul –DAMN HIM FOR TURNING INTO A COMPLETE HOTTIE! – With a newly acquired low voice went, "Which floor?"
I know this is going to sound pathetic but I wasn't really prepared to hear his voice… call me stupid but I didn't realize that in five years he might not sound and look the same. Sure I hoped that maybe he had a huge scar on his face that would make him less hot and that maybe his voice would turn all feminine and high pitched or something… but I'm wrong. If anything, he was BETTER than he used to be.
So, um, I might not have answered straight away. And when I did, I, um, might have turned to look at him. And if I didn't get a good look at first I sure did then… let me say something: lawyers…HOTT!
I know, I know, you're dying for a description. So here goes a BIG something. He was wearing a rather casual suit: black slacks that showed of his butt (yeah, kind of saw the back a bit… uh, intentionally?), a black shirt and well… who cares. I'm not half as good with men brands and all I can see is his cut body that was VERY well defined by his clothes. Isn't that the MOST important?
Yeah, thought you'd agree with me on this one.
Anyway, when I finally did answer him I guess I didn't sound TOO different and fake and all like I intended cause he looked at me real closely and then BAM! He had that I-know-you smirk that was invented with the only purpose to strike fear into my heart.
"Well, well…if it isn't Susannah Simon…"
Hmmm… why does that sound familiar? Oh yeah, that's the line he used back when he came to haunt me at my high school when I was an innocent girl of sixteen… and he was a hot guy of the same age…
"Uh… you are?"
LAME! I think I was blushing so deep red that I was going to fade into the background, yeah, somehow the elevator is red. What is the deal with that? So, I am blushing, lying and falling so deeply back into my old habits such as getting freaked by Paul Slater. To put it bluntly, last time I saw him, well, things weren't all that cool.
"Suze, are you alright? The fire and…God, are you hurt?" Paul was asking me, he was holding me in his arms. What was he thinking? Now that Jesse is gone I'm going to fall into his arms?
"Let go of me."
"Suze," he started, but when he saw my glare I think he got it. "I- I'm sorry… do you remember?"
"OF COURSE I REMEMBER, YOU JERK!" As I was screaming at him I felt water works starting. I can't believe it, Paul Slater was making me cry… and somehow it wouldn't be the last time..
"Suze… still haven't changed have you?"
Okay, big gulp. I kind of forgot Paul's tendency to know when I was lying and see through me as if I were in Victoria Secret lingerie. Right, even my metaphors get screwed up when Paul is near… awesome!
"Sorry, I really can't place you," I am burning in hell for that OBVIOUS lie! I mean, I was burned, what the hell was I thinking lying MORE? Sometimes I'm amazed I'm still alive, you'd think God would have struck me with lighting by now. But then, maybe he did.
"Suze, you've got to stop being sore about it. It's graduation day, at least you could pretend that we're on friendly terms," Paul smiled at me and looked at me with those eyes. How can someone be so despicable yet be so good looking and have those eyes? God was cruel with his irony.
"Paul, I'm not sore, I happen to hate you. And I'm sorry but my hatred is so overwhelming I can't even simile any kind of feeling for you other than it."
"Suze, it wouldn't have worked either way. Even Father Dominic agreed. If anything, I did you a favor."
Yeah right, Paul. I SO needed my one love to disappear forever.
"A FAVOR? God… I can't believe you have the nerve!"
"You know what? I'm starting to get tired of trying to get you to be my friend even if it's only for one day! We both know that you and Jesse couldn't be and DON'T start bullshitting me about how it didn't matter to you that he was dead! He had no breath, no warmth, how could you love a ghost? As time would pass you'd grow and he'd stay the same age… why can't you accept the truth for once, Suze?"
"There had to have been another way…" I whispered. It hurt, because it was the truth but that doesn't mean that it was important to me. But then, I was sixteen, still, it was love…
"Open your eyes for once and look around yourself Suze! Other people care for you! You could love and be loved by anyone! Rico Suave wasn't the only man for you, hell, he wasn't even a man!"
I hated him for being so right, it was cruel… unfair.
"WHAT WOULD YOU KNOW OF LOVE?"I yelled at him, tears starting to stain my face. Thank God for waterproof mascara.
"I know about love no matter how heartless you think I am, Suze… just because you don't believe I can feel doesn't mean I don't." His voice was so cold, like ice and those eyes of his were piercing me so deeply. I lost my breath…
"I'm sorry," I murmured.
His look softened but seemed to turn darker. He muttered something under his breath, smirked at me and then turned his back.
What did I know about love?
"Not about to give up your little charade, Suze?" He smirked even more if possible. Paul has very nice teeth, I mean, if they didn't always form into that annoying and self-centered smirk of his he might pass as attractive. Well, he already is but he isn't sexy, well at least not in my opinion. –coughliecough-
"Fine… Paul Slater, mean anything to you?"
Alright, I know what you're thinking: I can't POSSIBLY pretend not to remember him, right? Well, here's the funny thing, I kind of did say that. As in: "Paul Slater, uh, not really no. Are you sure we know each other?"
Yeah, now he REALLY doesn't know I was lying. NOT!
"Suze, enough of the silly lies; you wouldn't want me to mention painful memories just so you can place my name?"
God, and to think I found this moron hot?
"Oh, right. How silly of me to forget a jerk like you? You were the annoying shifter who never could let anyone be right but him!" Harsh… but totally deserved.
"I guess I had that coming." See, even HE agrees with me. "But I'm sure you have some good memories of me," oh, he sure knows how to ruin my happiness!
I won't lie to you. It was a good kiss. I felt it all the way down to my poor, blistered toes.
Which is not to say I kissed him back. I most definitely did not…
Well, okay. Not that much, anyway.
It was just that, you know, Paul was such a good kisser. And I hadn't been kissed in a very long time. It felt nice to know that someone, at least, wanted me. Even if that someone happened to be a person I despised. Or at least someone I was pretty sure I despised.
The truth was, it was sort of hard to remember whether or not I despised Paul. Not while he was kissing me so thoroughly. I mean, it isn't every day –unfortunately- that hot guys go around grabbing and kissing me. In fact, it had really only happened a handful of times before.
And when Paul Slater did it…well, let's just say that the last thing I was expecting was to like it.
"Um, I wouldn't count on that, Paul. You don't seem to remember, but if there's anything I do bear in mind that we were never on friendly terms." I smiled at him sickly-sweetly and tossed my hair.
"You're right, Suze. If I remember well I was a friend with benefits."
I'd be lying if I said that I wasn't mortified and at lost for a snappy comeback so being in a bitchy and retaliating mood I mumbled, "Shut up." I know, not exactly a witty rejoinder but sometimes a girl just has to grumble and tell the guy to shut up; compromise.
I'm guessing that Paul kind of knew he had m cornered because he actually turned his body towards me and pressed me against the elevator wall, "Remind you of anything?"
Let me pause a second just to say that Paul smells great. He should be the model for that add for the new Axel perfume 'click' that Ben Affleck plays in. Yeah, if you know what I'm talking about well, he doesn't need the perfume.
"Oh, yeah?" I looked up at him. He was a head taller than me, but his lips were still only inches from mine. I could meet them with my own without much of a problem. Not that I was going to. I didn't think. "What do you call what you're doing now?"
"Suze," he said, playing with my hair again. His breath tickled my cheek. "How else am I going to get you to talk to me? You've got this totally mistaken impression of me. You think I'm some kind of bad guy. And I'm not. I'm really not. I'm…well, I'm a lot like you actually."
Paul was leaning so close to me now, his chest brushed the front of my sweater.
"You want to try it again?" he asked. His mouth moved until it was only bout an inch from mine. "A little experiment?"
"Do you ever think of when we met?" He looked down at me with those cutting eyes of his. They were so deep and blue but with a harsh edge that was appealing and repelling at the same time.
"No, I don't. You see Paul, I prefer not having you daunting my comfortable life, even in my memories. And by the way, can I still file for sexual harassment?"
"Suze, sexual harassment and charm are completely different..." And he smiled another of his two hundred watt smiles. I can tell you, his dad paid a pretty penny for Paul to have that kind of teeth.
I still don't get it. I really don't. I mean, what's wrong with these people? And how, seeing the way they treat their youngest child, had the other one managed to turn out so…
At least, that was the word that flashed through my mind as Paul opened the door to his family's suite in response to my knock, then stood there grinning down at me, one hand in the pocket of his cream-colored chinos, the other clutching a book by someone called Martin Heidegger.
Yeah, you know what the last book I read was? That'd be Clifford. That's right. The big red dog. And okay, I was reading it to a five-year-old, but still. Heidegger. Jeez.
"All right. Who called Room Service and ordered the pretty girl?" Paul wanted to know.
Well, okay, that wasn't funny. That was actually sort of sexually harassing, if you think about it. But the fact that the guy saying it was my age, about six feet tall, and olive-complected, with curly brown hair and eyes as blue as the ocean just beyond the Pebble Beach golf course, made it not so bad.
Not so bad. What am I talking about? The guy could sexually harass me anytime he wanted to. At least someone wanted to.
"Plus, can you blame me for noticing you? In a way, I was paying you a compliment. None of the other guests were checking you out so I felt that it was my duty." IGNORE THAT SUZE! I think that Paul's favorite pastime is to wind me up, real bad.
And sadly, I always fall for it.
"Slater, just because you feel the need to perv on every thing that moves and has breasts doesn't mean you had the right to target me at the young and innocent age of sixteen. And by the way, I wouldn't be proud of hitting on a girl who was forced to wear plaid shorts!"
"God, you always bitch about the clothes, don't you Simon?"
"Don't call me that!" What is with this guy? Does he want to go through a testicular retrieval operation?
"My most sincere apologies, Susie." Yeah, he definitely wants to leave this world, I mean, he practically wrote a suicide note and put me down as main beneficiary in his will.
"Stop pissing me off, Paulie."
"Right, sorry. I should know better, soon you'll be calling me a user and a psychopath and I'll have to call you querida." I hated him. How can he find it so easy to mention how he ruined my love life and my ability to love anyone so easily when I was still thinking about it?
"I hate you," well, at least for once my mouth was actually saying what I thought. A nice change considering all the times it had got me into trouble…
"Alright, turn to page 34. We'll be reading the passage where Romeo and Juliet first meet. Any volunteers?"
It's sickening to see that all the girls were rushing to be able to read out Juliet's part and some jocks were even considering being Romeo. I mean, what is more annoying then reading Shakespeare out loud with a bunch of goofs snickering because certain people are reading out words of love and so on… it was just too pathetic for me to comprehend.
"Simon, you'll be Juliet, Slater, Romeo."
Okay, now I feel like it's way too pathetic to deal with. I mean, the teacher has SO got it in with me, I just mention that she has chalk all over her ass and now she keeps trying to crush me!
And it just had to be the passage when Romeo and his fair love-lady kiss and she had to start talking about a book of some kind… jeez. My life sucks. And why SLATER, of all the blokes with no brains in the class? Well, it was still better than having to profess undying love to my step-brother… EW!
"I'm sorry ma'am but I really don't see the point of this scene. I mean, Romeo and Juliet meet and suddenly they start professing their love for each other, he kisses her and she compares it to some book? I don't really see what's so romantic about this?"
PLEASE GOD! LET HER GET THE MESSAGE!
"Well, then, we might as well have you act it out and then you might comprehend the romantic meaning behind the words that Shakespeare wrote in one of his best known works!"
Okay, next time remember me to keep my big mouth SHUT!
"You don't really hate me, Suze. No matter how much you wish you could… same thing goes for me." I don't like Paul crushing me against a wall, it reminds me that he smells good, looks good, kisses well and tastes good. What I mean is, it gives me loads of good reasons to jump his bones. Which, sadly, being a girl with good taste, I don't do. Because, seriously, who screws a guy with no moral? Yeah, no one… well, except for all the girls who slept with Paul, not that I can really blame them. Except for Kelly Prescott, yeah, she should get blamed no matter what!
"The difference is, you did something that's hateful whereas I have never done anything to you that could actually make you hate me. Unless rejecting you was such a big shock to your ego and you are completely twisted and sadistic as a side effect, but I very much doubt that."
His face leaned closer to mine; I could smell his mint breath and almost feel his lips on mine. "Do we have to go through the whole debate on whether or whether I have feelings again. I thought I had made it quite clear to you when we were younger."
There was a dead finality to his tone. I remembered that conversation…
"Why do you refuse to give me a chance but you'll go off and start making out with the first guy who asks you to dance?" He kept looking at me with those eyes… I couldn't help it if I didn't want to get hurt! Why did he always blame me for not loving him? I didn't, I DIDN'T!
"Well, I'd only be kissing ONE person if it weren't for you trying to change everyone's life. So why don't you go back to sucking face with Prescott or a member of her posse and leave me and my personal business alone!"
I didn't want to be near him. It was intoxicating. As if for one second I'd be screaming at him like the banshee from hell and the next responding to his fiery kisses of hate. I hated him, and no matter what he said, he hated me. Because when you love someone you want them to be happy, isn't that why I let Jesse go? Because I loved him?
"You could still be kissing one person."
"No. I don't want that. I don't want love and the affection or any of that anymore because in the end I can't return it. And wouldn't that make me as bad as you? Taking love from someone… I don't know about you, but I can't do that. It hurts to hurt, when a bee stings it dies… don't you ever feel hurt after hurting?"
"Suze," his voice had a warning tone to it. But what did I care? He broke all the rules, created all the pain, why shouldn't I ruin his night as well?
"Don't you ever wish you could undo all the pain you created? Can you sincerely look me into the eyes and say that you're glad Jesse's gone. It was all a competition, but what if the prize is broken and the pieces cut… then what? You just look for another thing to fight for or another challenge?"
"Suze, you don't know what you're saying…"
"I KNOW WHAT I'M SAYING! I'm saying that I hate you, I hate what you did to me, and I hate everything about you and what you say! Why won't you just leave me alone, why couldn't you leave me alone?"
I was crying. Fantastic! Is it even possible for me to have a screaming match with Paul without me shedding tears lately? No, I don't think so. I just can't believe he's gone and that the only one whom I can talk to about Jesse is the one who got rid of him.
"You want to know so many things, don't you? Why I had to 'ruin' your incredible relationship with a ghost and if it ever hurts to cause pain and wreck havoc? You see me as a heartless person who just likes competition. You've got me all figured out and you're content and satisfied with the category you put me down it…"
"I didn't put
you in an existing category. Had to make one for you, I've never
met anyone as…"
"As WHAT? Uncaring, insensible, indifferent and apathetic as me? I'm the bad guy from the movies, Suze. I'm the handsome man that everyone loves except for the hero and heroine and I love the only one who'll never love me back. So yeah, Suze. It hurts. You've never had to go through unrequited love so you wouldn't know but it hurts more than losing something you had because at least you got a taste of it. You don't know how it feels to see something and reach for it but get denied or teased by the fruit that you yearn to eat! So don't ask questions you don't understand the answers to!"
The tears were flowing freely now and I felt as though hell had frozen and pigs were flying. Love? He couldn't love me, not Paul, I mean, he ruined everything for me and he's just using love as a pathetic excuse… he knows I'm a sucker for it.
"I don't care if you don't believe my words, anymore. Because, truth be told, you never will. So I hope actions are good enough for you, Simon," and then he kissed me.
I didn't know you could feel so much in a kiss. With Jesse it had been mind-blowing but soft and slow but there had been feeling… just not as much. I loath Paul though, so how could he do this to me? It shouldn't be allowed! He can't kiss me as though he means it, he's Slater.
His lips were pressed so tightly against mine, I couldn't breathe, I didn't want to. It felt as if I could live on those kind of kisses. He pulled me closer to him; I could feel the warmth that was radiating from him, his heart beating… Don't blame me for reacting. I let my hands roam over that marvelous chest of his and tilted more into him.
"I believe you," that' all I could say when it stopped.
"Right, you have feelings, yeah, you're human! Can you let go of me now, Paul?"
"I'm just pressing your button," and he SMILED! Yeah, Paul, you are pressing my button, the one that activates my piss-off system! Sometimes I just want to kick him in the balls! Strike that; all the time.
"You're doing a great job but you can do that a meter from me," and then I shoved him away. Well, I tried. Did you know that when your hands make contact with astonishing abs they turn into goo? Actually, your whole body does. So a warning for all, don't touch the abs, you won't get far or else.
"But Suze, I can't push the lobby switch unless I'm right here."
God, who died and turned Paul into such a hottie, I mean, infuriating and annoying, but still hot? What is the point of hating a human being if you're body keeps trying to assault him? I'm sorry but to me this is starting to seem like a great waste of time and emotion. Hatred is very draining… yeah, especially when you're expressing it through passionate making-out! I hate my conscience.
"Fine, press the damn thing then!" His hand skimmed my hips and he pressed the damn switch… I shivered, don't blame me! You try staying cool and aloof when Paul is standing a few inches from you and his mouth is where you can reach.
"My pleasure, or should I say yours?"
"Ha-bloody-ha! You're sense of humor gets better everyday."
(A/N the whole my pleasure or yours was taken from Flashlight… damn good fic that one!)
"It does, doesn't it?" And then he stepped out of the elevator. How rude is that? No good-bye, see you in hell, hope you don't forget the marshmallows… NOTHING! I mean, he didn't even try stealing a kiss! Am so looking the other way next time I see him though right now I do have a good view of him walking away and YIKES! HOTTIE ALERT!
Elevator going down, got to lobby –Slater free- and I am getting ice-cream. All in all a good day, I mean, sexual harassment from a hot guy isn't bad, right?
What'd you think? Ten pages, good enough? One-shot I remind you, thought it was okay thought it might be a bit sappy at times. Review please.
For Niff: no crap!