Hey guys, I know I'm new to the Mediator author scene, but I hope you guys can give me a chance, I'll try my best, I really will! Lol. Anyways, well I've recently read the series and got hooked, and fallen in love with Jesse. sigh haven't we all? Anyways, I just wanted to do a quick fic, Jesse's POV on one of the scenes I really enjoyed from book number 4, Darkest Hour. Meg Cabot owns everybody, even sob Jesse. That's my disclaimer, please don't sue, I think all you'd win would be the mint in my pocket. So without further adieu…

Sorry, one more adieu, Jesse's thoughts are in italics, by the way.

ONWARD!

Jesse De Silva's POV

My thoughts, yet again as I find them doing almost constantly, turned to Susannah. I know that it was completely improper my feelings for her, but I had tried to deny them too many times and now I had resigned myself to the fact that I was hopelessly in love with her. I ran my hand through my hair and tried to fight the nervous feeling in the pit of my stomach.

You're a ghost De Silva. You can't change your appearance.

I still stubbornly tried to comb through my unruly hair and tried to make myself presentable. Finally I closed my eyes and thought of Susannah's bedroom, and I was there. I glanced around at the familiar settings, looked where her bed was, adjacent to the place where my bed once stood, all those years ago. It was strange, she wasn't in her room. It was almost midnight. I tried to tune into my "Susannah radar" as I had jokingly named it, my uncanny ability to usually determine if she was in trouble and where she was at the time. My response perplexed me greatly and doubting it was right, I dematerialized from Susannah's room and into David's.

And I was almost cut in half by a pick.

I leapt out of the way, narrowly missing the tool Susannah was brandishing at me. "Susannah!"

The look of anger on her face melted into one of shock and she dropped the pick onto David's bed. The Ackerman's dog started whining as he usually did in my presence and Susannah quickly opened the door to let him out.

I was utterly confused. "Susannah, why are you sleeping in David's room, armed with a pick?"

She looked at me, eyes wide in a picture of innocence. "Is that what that is?"

I almost smiled, her act didn't fool me in the slightest but did make me love her just a little bit more. I banished the smile from my face and tried to look serious, still confused.

"Susannah. Tell me what's going on."

She scurried back to the safety of David's covers and responded with a quick "Nothing."

Something was wrong and she wasn't telling me. My usual euphoria over being with Susannah was quickly being filled with a combination of hurt and worry. I was surprised she couldn't see how much she could hurt me, just by skimming over the truth and lying to my face. I tried to keep the expression out of my eyes.

Then I noticed the ax.

"Susannah is that an ax!" She shoved it away and squeaked that she could explain.

That would be interesting.

She was trying to think up a lie, I could tell. Before I could stop myself I had pinned her to the bed, my arms resting on David's headboard. Nothing was making sense, the presence I had felt the night before, sleeping with weapons? I was outright worried now.

"What is it that you won't tell me? And why do you think you can't?"

"It's not that I don't want to tell you… it's just…" She looked like she was fighting some inner demons and then she let loose a torrent of words.

I stared in shocked silence as she spoke rapidly. And then, I know, suave of me, I started laughing.

She stared at me for a second in disbelief and then told me that laughing wasn't appropriate considering her life may be in mortal peril. Ok, I admit my laughing harder at that wasn't the smoothest thing I could have done, but just the way she had spoken so fast…

She turned away and threw David's covers over her face.

Not the reaction I had hoped for. I was hoping, perhaps I should say dreaming, that she would realize how fast she talked, slow down, tell me and I could soothe her worries, ending with the kiss I've been dreaming about…

Nombre de Dios, De Silva, calm down.

I instead, tried to redeem myself by using the most persuasive voice I had, the one I had used to trick my sisters into getting my way countless times when we were young.

"Come on Susannah, let go of the blanket."

"I said go away."

"No I won't go away. Sit up Susannah, I want to talk to you."

"No. Why don't you go just hang out with Maria. Maybe you two can go sharpen your knives somewhere and have some more laughs at my expense. Ha, ha that mediator is so funny."

Maria? No, no. It couldn't be. And what was she talking about knives? No… I must have voiced my thoughts out loud because this really angered Susannah and she flipped over and glared at me.

"Oh okay, Jesse. So that knife she held to my throat last night was imaginary. And I must have imagined her threatening to kill me."

My heart, if I had had one, would have stopped. Maria had been here? With a knife? And Susannah… I caught her before she could roll over again and asked her again, desperately hoping I had heard wrong.

"But why was she here?"

"You tell me." She said. "Someone's been dead and gone for as long as she has, it would have to take something pretty big to bring her back."

I looked into her green eyes, lost as I usually am in them. But my mind was reeling with the knowledge that she had tried to harm Susannah…

"She-she tried to hurt you?" She nodded and pointed to her neck.

"Right there. She said if I didn't get Andy to stop digging she would k-"

Kill me. That's what she was going to say, but I couldn't let her voice those fears. A world without Susannah… well I don't know if I could take having her gone too. Throwing propriety to the wind I snatched her up in my arms, feeling her ragged breathing on my arm and started murmuring in her hair, still wet from her shower. I held her tightly, the thought of someone killing my queridastill fresh in my mind. I hoped she didn't mind, I just needed to hold her right now, protect her. I know she thought she didn't need any protecting… Nombre de Dios I would give up my life to save her.

She spoke into my shoulder.

"It was a really large knife."

"Querida."I couldn't help myself, she was still in my arms, apparently being soothed by it as well. I kissed her head gently as she started to cry.

"And then, she put her hand over my mouth to keep me from screaming and her ring cut into my mouth and made it all bloody."

I pulled away slightly and looked in her face. Why hadn't she told me this last night?

I voiced my thoughts and waited for her answer, my eyes still searching her face, her body still against mine.

"Because it obviously has something to do with why you're here." And then she promptly went into an explanation of my death, from some Colonel Clemmings.

I was in a state of slight shock. How had she known?

"It's from a book Doc got from the library. My Monterey by Colonel Clemmings."

But David- he was at camp, right?

"This was a long time ago." She blew out her breath, a sign she was frustrated with me. But she had known… known about my death but yet she still asked me.

"So you've known, this whole time?" I was starting to get a little angry. This was my business, something I planned to tell Susannah, but later, when I was ready. The fact that she had gone ahead and found out already… it was an unpleasant surprise.

I'm sure she noticed my slight anger and she looked defensive.

"But Jesse, that's what mediators do, they pry into people's deaths."

So now I was reduced to just one of her cases? One of the countless people she helped, then forgot?

She looked at me, eyes slightly apologetic and the tightness my soul felt was loosened somehow.

"If they find your body out there, you… you'll move on. You know that's what's been holding you back Jesse. And I don't want that to happen you know, cause I l-" She paused and my eyes widened, could she have almost said love? Was that it? I had released her previously, but now I gently slid my hands around her waist. "Because I like having you around and I would hate not seeing you anymore." My hopes that she had been going to say love were dashed and I blushed inwardly, chiding myself for even imagining she could return my feelings.

My fingers, again having a mind of their own and not listening to me as I frantically ordered them back, grazed her cheek and I gazed down at her face, sure that my own must reveal my passion.

"Susannah," my voice was deeper than usual. "Finding my body is not going to change anything." And it wouldn't I was sure of it. I couldn't leave this world, leaving Susannah. Not when I loved her so much.

"Excuse me Jesse, but I know what I'm talking about, after all I've been doing this for 16 years."

I smiled at her and wished I could rest my forehead against hers and whisper all that she needed to hear to calm her.

"I've been dead for a hundred and fifty years. I think I know what I'm talking about. And this mystery, as you put it, of my death is not why I'm hanging around."

And it was true, I didn't care anymore about my death, I just cared about now, and Susannah and making sure nothing ever hurt her again.

And then, what I thought would make her feel better only made her start crying again.

"Jesse," She said, her voice cracking. "I know, I mean I know. I've done this hundred times. When they find you're body, you're…gone."

I found this slightly absurd and I almost laughed again, but contained myself this time, learning from experience. Instead, I touched her cheek again, going farther than ever by actually cupping her face. She leaned against my hand and my love for her deepened.

"I promise you Susannah," I paused to try and really portray my seriousness. "I am not going anywhere, whether or not your stepfather finds my body in the backyard."

"You promise?"

"I swear."

Then I convinced her to go to her own room and she did, with my assurance that I would stay with her.

If she only knew how readily I would do this, every night, watch her while she slept, and since I cannot sleep, nor have dreams or nightmares, I would just daydream about her, daydream about being alive and falling asleep with her every night.

She crawled into bed and with one last look at me, she closed her eyes and was asleep within minutes. As soon as I deemed her asleep, I set down my book and watched her. Later, when she was in the deepest part of her sleep, I stood over her and let my hand caress her cheek, just once more.

She snuggled down deeper into the covers and a smile crossed her face as she murmured a word in her sleep that filled me with joy.

"Jesse…"

Thanks!

-Laura