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His New Girlfriend Sees Ghosts

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Summary: BtVS/The Mediator. Jack Slater breaks some news to Buffy, not-so-gently. Sixth Sense much?

Categories Author Rating Chapters Words Recs Reviews Hits Published Updated Complete
Literature > Childrens/Teen > Author: Meg CabotDemongirlFR151831011,04119 Jun 0719 Jun 07Yes
Title: His New Girlfriend Sees Ghosts
Author: Demongirl
Disclaimer: Everything Buffy the Vampire Slayer and The Mediator belongs to their respective creators, not me.
A/N: I know this is weird, but the plotbunny [well, as much plotbunny-ish as a plotbunny can be in a oneshot] just would not leave me alone. I would really like feedback.
Timeline/Spoilers: Buffy – pre-Sunnydale. The Mediator – Darkest Hour and beginning of Haunted.

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Let me tell you something, in my line of work, when your boyfriend disappears, you tend to think ‘oh shit! A demon’s gone and made him its dinner!’ first, rather than ‘oh shit! He’s totally cheating on me with that mediator skank!’ Just goes to show, I really should get out of said line of work. Maybe I would’ve jumped to the right conclusion, rather than the wrong one.

He started acting strange when he returned from summer vacation in Northern Cali. Why he and his family would want to go there, I don’t know. Haven’t we got enough sunshine in Southern Cali, as it is? I hear Carmel is a boring little town. Merrick says that they have a ‘ghost problem’. Always the quiet ones, I guess. Paul’s so energetic, so... Paul, I really didn’t see it coming. He’d done a great job of pulling the wool over my eyes before he left. He was all with the ‘love you’, and the ‘got a headache, baby? Let’s head on down to the beach, you really don’t need algebra on your mind right now’. I didn’t see it coming.

At first, I didn’t notice the difference, when he came back. Sure, he was less affectionate, there were no more ‘got a headache, baby’s, but I still hadn’t done what I should have done – jumped to the right conclusion. To be fair, I’d been totally preoccupied by that weird demon that kept popping in and out of our high school, Hemery High. Merrick said its name was something long, and weird, and latin, or whatever. I’ve got to say, first time I came across it, its eye – yes, its eye, because it only had one, and it looked totally freaky – blinked at me, in this really creepy way. I quickly – well, over the course of an hour, spent being beaten up by said demon – I figured out that, in order to kill this long-latin-named demon, I had to poke its eye out, preferably with something sharp. So I did that. But that’s not what clued me in on Paul’s messing around with another girl. The psychic clued me in.

About two days after the demise of the latin-named-demon, a few friends of mine dragged me to the fair, where I was pushed into the psychic’s tent. For exactly seven and a half minutes, I stared at her, and she stared right back. I got the feeling she was the real deal. Then…

“She who hangs out in cemeteries a lot, you must be wary of your shifting mediator lover, for he is in the company of another one of his kind, one whom he will tempt, and by whom he shall be tempted.”

Okay, so that’s not exactly what she said, but that’s the gist of it. The first thing she said, ‘she who hangs out in cemeteries a lot’, really pissed me off. I mean, she totally stole my line! After a while, though, I began to think about what she was babbling. Thoughts like ‘no, Paul wouldn’t do something like that to me’, and ‘what is this ‘one of his kind’ business?’ began to cross my mind.

I asked Merrick what a ‘mediator’ was, but all he did was mumble a lot, run his hand through his hair, and call one of his various former-Council-member contacts, for information. He promised to tell me what he found out, as soon as he found it out. As for me, I just thought that Paul meditated – I mean, is there really that big a difference between meditate and mediate? – a lot. I never thought that Paul was one of us. The supernatural, that is. Another thing the psychic at the fair said was something, that, put through the translator of garbled, much-o confusing gypsy speak, meant that if I wanted to find out the truth, I would have to ask Paul himself, which leads me to where I am right now.

I am standing on Paul’s doorstep, looking up at his beautiful monstrosity of a mansion, and I am slowly realising that he is not home. He isn’t home, but his little brother, Jack – a cutie pie kid that seems a lot less uptight than he was before summer vacation – is. As Jack is opening the door, I peer into the Slaters’ garage, and notice the absence of Paul’s car.

“Buffy! I didn’t know you were coming here! Are you here for Paul? He’s not home! He’s in Carmel, with his new girlfriend! Did you know that she can see ghosts, just like I can? We see dead people, we’re mediators!”

Oh. My. God. Sixth Sense much?

The End

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