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Writing The Mediator

Sere Tuscumbia

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Since I'm bored, and no one's going to read this anyway, I'm posting it just for my own amusement. This is - in a way - a spinoff of a book series "The Mediator", but . . . not really. *cough, cough* You'll see. And this goes in chapters by the way.


Author's Note: Ok, this is one of the first fanfics that I've written, so please excuse me if it is completely horrible! This isn't written from Suze's view (the main character of the Mediator series for those of you who don't know) so things will be a bit . . . different. (A bit?! Let's face it, things will be a LOT different!)

As usual, I don't own any of the rights to the Mediator series (sob, sob!) but I do own some of the characters mentioned in this fanfic! If you chose to use them, please ask my permission first! (As if anyone would want to use my characters!)

So, sit back, relax, and enjoy the show! (Book, whatever . . .)


The Mediator

Chapter 1

I live in the middle of nowhere.

Most wouldn't consider Washington, D.C. to be the middle of nowhere, so let me rephrase myself: I live in the middle of nowhere in Washington, D.C.

But although I live in the middle of nowhere, I keep surprisingly busy. Why? Because this little 'gift' I'd rather not have.

Which is why I was sneaking into someone's apartment at twelve thirty in the morning. It became obvious to me that this couple wasn't doing the job that I had told them to do, and I had to go do the job myself.

Cause that's my job.

Let's just say I went home in the back of a good 'ole black and white; and got the bawling out of a lifetime when I got home.

One of the side effects of my job.

"You [I]said[/I] that the therapist had let you go with the notion that you would stop doing things like this!" My mother's auburn bun had come loose, and wisps of hair were floating around her head, like some bizarre halo.

You can see why I'd rather be a normal sixteen year old. I feel sorry for my mother, really I do, but my 'gift' is one that can't be ignored.

Especially when it wakes you up screaming in your ear.

"I guess it came back to haunt me Mom--"

"Oh don't joke about that!"

You see, ever since Grandpa died, Mom's been a little bit [I]touchy[/I] when it comes to the subject of ghosts.

Even though she doesn't believe in them.

My poor, deluded mother . . .

I think it's because my more than unusual experiences when I was a child.

Another side effect of my job.

Well, Mother finally finished chewing me out, so she went to go soak for a while. Some days it must be hard for Mum, considering Dad isn't here to help her out with me.

Trust me, Dad didn't - without a nicer way to put it - kick the bucket or anything. My parents just had some problems with each other - and with me I assume - and decided that living together was just not working out. So Dad left, and Mom took custody of me. I see Dad sometimes, but not often.


Well, he lives out in Arizona, which is hardly just a hop, skip, and a jump away.

Unlike some people I know.

Which is why I decided to make an early morning "visit" to my good friend Micheal. You see, Micheal shares this 'gift' I have.

Which, in essence, makes my job easier, but you don't know Micheal.

He could still be considered a newbie when it comes to our little 'gift' . . .

Especially when he decides to visit at 1:00 in the morning.

So I decided to pay him back for the evil little prank he had dealt me, something I was entirely not happy about.

He was going to pay, and I had just the job for him to do . . .

But, as usual, my 'job' got interrupted right in the middle of everything.

I had been sitting innocently, in my gray hoodie and matching sweatpants, when the local drunkard of the subway ambled up to me from his desolate little corner in the back of the subway car.

I eyed him suspiciously. His walking up to me wasn't the thing that agitated me - I was used to random people confronting me on a daily basis - it was the fact that he wasn't even supposed to [I]be[/I] on the subway car.

He sat down next to me.

"Don't even think about it mister, I have a black belt--"

"That's not what I'm after miss, I just have a question to ask of you . . ."

"And that is . . ?" I inquired, raising one eyebrow.

"You're the one right?"

"The [I]what?![/I]" Whatever this guy had on his agenda, it didn't sound good.

"The [I]one[/I], you know, the one everyone else told me about . . ." He started to sound desperate, and I was considering putting a blow to his head . . .

. . . until I figured out who he was. I nodded, but groaned inwardly, adding a little 'Here we go again . . .' to the growing mound of stress piled in the back of my mind.

He sighed, obviously relieved to have found the right person. "I need for you to do something for me."

[I]Oh god, another one.[/I]


"Mother!" I groaned. "She creeps me out!"

My mother sighed, and waved the letter in front of my face. "I?m sorry honey, but I have business work, and your father?s gone off to Europe for a month! Your auntie wants to see you!"

"But [I]I[/I] don?t want to see [I]her[/I]! She wears those . . . things!"

"I know, I know," my mother sympathized. "She won?t let go of those god awful furs, but maybe you can talk some fashion sense into her while you?re there."

"And since when did you have business work?" A notion came into my head at my mother?s shifty look. "Izzhe cute?"

"W--what?!" My mother stammered, blushing furiously.

"I mean it! Izzhe cute?!" This was too much fun to pass off. My mother hasn?t had a date since Dad left, and I wasn?t leaving until I squeezed all the details out of her.

"Uh nuh. No details. Not unless you agree to go to Carmel with Auntie."

[I]Carmel, huh?[/I] I thought. "Ok. I guess." I shrugged. "But [I]only[/I] if you give me [I]all[/I] of the details with your ?business partner?. [I]Only[/I] if you give me the details."

"Fine then." My mother looked pleased when she held out her hand. "Shake on it then."

I did, gladly. Little did I know that I was shaking on the deal of my life . . .


This is only the first chapter so R&R please!

~!*Sere & Co.*!~
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