DISCLAIMER: Everything's been derived from a "little" show we all love, called "The OC". The premise of what's written below was concocted by my imagination, so if anything down below is the same (names etc. etc.), it was unintended and purely coincidental. If you have a problem, just tell me and I'd be glad to oblige…I'm a loving pacifist, I can't help it :-). Hmmm…what else is there to say? Oh yeah. I own nothing. I love furry bears. Neon green is the new orange? Go Clippers?!

Author's note: This is my first fan fiction published, I've kept a stock since my "Saved by the Bell Days" way back in Elementary School, but I've never published anything. Please read and review. I'd love to read any criticisms, don't be afraid to be negative, in fact, I'd encourage it. I'm going to try and update on a daily basis, I have a lot more of the story already written, but I want to release it daily to keep the suspense :-)…of course that would require readers, so please read if you can. Thanks again and cheerio.

Brief Story description: Seth Cohen dies in a massive accident……But he is literally resurrected again. He doesn't know why, but the higher beings that be have given him a second body…a second chance. All he's told by the angels is that he's been given the opportunity because he died too soon with incomplete business. He didn't care what the business was, all he could think about was getting to his wife. But there are rules to be maintained…one of which was that Summer must never know who he really is. Will he break all the rules to see her?

Yet another annoying Author's note: I always thought that good literature was modeled after greater literature, but given its own twist. I've modeled the story after The Count of Monte Cristo, a smidge from the movie Ghost, and of course, "the OC". This will be a dramedy…O.C style. Enjoy!

CHAPTER 1 – The unsaid words

Her hands covered her mouth. Her vision didn't seem right. A surge of heat went through her body…………She turned to one of the bodies. She couldn't recognize her husband instantly because his face was covered in blood. Tears were rapidly falling down her face. She shoved her way through the paramedics and held her husband's head.

March 15, 20-- 7 AM

The couple walked around the house as they discussed something that seemed important. Summer was mainly the one walking around the house as she prepped for work. Seth, who was wearing a Berkeley shirt and boxers, was the one tailing her as he didn't have work till 10.

Summer seemed agitated and angry at Seth. Seth seemed agitated and angry at Summer.

They, unlike most couples, did not have many serious arguments.

Usually they fought over control of the radio (her definition of classic was Justin Timberlake and his was the emo-band Death Cab for Cutie), or what name they were going to give their child—he always insisted that it be Adam for a boy (after Adam West, star of the 60's comic book based tv show, "Batman") or June if it was a girl—she insisted that she'd stab a fork in his eye before she'd name her daughter June (she could imagine the mother/daughter fashion shows…Here comes Summer and June!...Poor kid. It was daddy's bad idea, she saw herself explaining to their daughter.) and he insisted that he'd go on a sex strike if they named their son Enrique (after her favorite singer, Enrique Iglesias)—all arguments that they secretly adored about each other. Everyone around them—their family and their friends loved to be around their banter.

But recently, the banter had transformed into a series of painful and emotionally demanding arguments.

They were in their room now. They had gotten to a climax in their argument in the kitchen and both were silent now.

Summer turned her back on Seth and asked him to zip up her dress as she brushed her teeth with an electric toothbrush.

"God my toes feel bloated," Summer randomly commented, trying to perhaps settle the argument on a stalemate and at least leave for work with a civil attitude towards her husband.

Seth didn't say a word. He instead headed over to the kitchen to fix Summer's breakfast to go, since he knew that she was running late because of the argument.

Summer walked over to the sink and washed her mouth out. Things were definitely not going well. You could see water in her eyes, but she held it in. She was always good at that. Summer had a strong defense mechanism.

Late for work, she headed off to the front door. On a side table, she found a brown bag and a Styrofoam cup filled with cappuccino. She looked back to where she thought Seth was standing and smiled…but he was not there.

There was only silence.

Usually he was there ready to accompany her to her car. But this time, she was alone.

Because it was going to be a challenge carrying her purse, suitcase and brown bag of breakfast along with the cup of cappuccino to her car, she figured she'd open the door before anything.

She was startled.

Seth had been on the other side of the door waiting for her. Seth Cohen had always been crafty like that.

"Hello sunshine," he teased with a smile.

A part of her wanted to punch him in the face. A part of her wanted to kiss him. Before she could say, do, or think anything, he had come closer to her and met her head with his.

He then put his two hands on the side of her head, securing her. "Summer, before that rage blackout gets the best of you and you shove me to the ground, and as we both know, my body's sensitivity will send me flying to the neighbor's driveway instead of our own…" he kidded. And then he continued on a more serious tone, "I just wanted to say that in spite of all this…all this anger and disappointment and resentment….And though it seems like this one's taking longer to solve…I don't know what's going to happen, Summer…I really don't—"

"But?"

"But—" he then kissed her forehead slowly and meaningfully. "Deriving from the sage advice of my Bronx-born Jewish father and my ever so Waspy Christian mother, it's to never let an argument get the best of something so meaningful. The only thing that matters is us, Summer. Now with that in mind, there has never been a day, when I'm in town and on regular work hours, in which I hadn't walked you to your car. So in spite of the magnitude of this morning's quarrel, today will be no exception. So for the next minute, as I walk you to your car, let's remember those lovely days prior to this month."

Before Summer could refute, he hushed her gently with his hand and playfully bit her hand like an infant teething. She laughed. He put her purse on his shoulder and grabbed the brown bag. "Only a man who loves his wife very much would risk his manhood by carrying a Louis Vutton purse in broad daylight," he said as he smirked at her and held her hand, with their fingers locked together. She broke out into a smile. When the two had reached her car, he looked at her with concerned eyes.

They both didn't like what was going on between them, so they'd try to stop and act normally, yet they seemed to come back to the same point. But this time, at the car, it was different.

The most intense exchange of words between them had just happened and they both simultaneously had this sick feeling that only subsided at that moment, when he kissed her on the forehead. Seth's kiss was longer than a usual forehead kiss and with more passion. It was his way of telling the woman he loved that he loved her now and would love her forever.

"I want to figure this out," Seth explained.

"I do too," Summer replied.

"Then it's settled, three years into the game, we both know we can't think right on an empty stomach, especially me—and it's better to discuss things in public, so as to avoid you throwing a household item at me…shall it be DiPilla's at 6?"

Summer smiled. "It's a date."

Seth kissed her hand. "We'll figure this out…tonight if we have to…"

"Easier said than done, Cohen."

"I love you."

Summer stood tiptoed and leaned over to his ear, "I love you too Cohen," she whispered.

She then opened the door to her car. But before she entered her car, Seth pulled her back rapidly whilst turning her around and then kissed her. The kiss was long, passionate and smooth. The moment was so powerful that as they kissed, both almost wanted to cry. They weren't sure why, but they wanted to.

Seth then kissed her belly and made farting noises with it. "Good-bye baby June," he said with a smile.

"You mean, good-bye baby Enrique," she replied with a smirk as she stepped into the car and began pulling out of the driveway.

Seth stood at the driveway in his boxers, wearing his dorky gym socks. As she left, something came over Seth…something that made him beam. "Summer!" he screamed.

She was already backing out her car. Summer was a speed demon, so in a matter of seconds she was already out on the street. She rolled down her windows as she backed it out trying to hear what he was saying. "What?" she asked, struggling to hear, as their neighbor's gardeners started trimming and mowing the lawns. A car started honking at Summer to hurry up and stop blocking the road.

"I—" he saw that she was squinting her eyes, signifying that she couldn't hear him, so instead she was attempting to read his lips.

"Love—Dinner—Tell you—at dinner!" was what Summer heard. So she gave him a last wave and headed for work.

March 15, 20-- 5:15 PM

Later that afternoon…

Seth drove down the highway in his vintage dark blue Mustang. He called it vintage. Summer called it old.

Fearing that his dark frizzy/wavy/curly hair, affectionately called the Jewfro, would over-frizz out, he turned off the AC and rolled down the window. He then picked up his cell phone and dialed some numbers as he drove.

"Hello?"

"Hi yes," replied Seth in a British accent. "I was wondering whether I could speak with Mr. Atwood, I'm one of his clients."

"Certainly," the voice of an elderly woman replied. "Who may I ask is speaking?"

"Sir Bigtoole. Ura Bigtoole," Seth said in his most serious voice.

"Hold on one second please." Over the phone Seth heard the elderly woman yell, "Mr. Atwood…Sir Ura Bigtoole!.........Sir Ura Bigtoole on line one!" After that, Seth hung up and laughed. He knew Ryan would come back with some better prank later in the week. Even though they were both 25, they at times retreated to their 17-year-old boyish ways.

After all the thinking that had gone on in his head, Seth needed that.

He then looked intensely at the road. He thought about the days when he and Summer would spend a good hour and just crank call Ryan at the PD's office. He smiled.

Seth's car phone rang. He struggled to reach it. I knew I shouldn't have let Summer talk me into getting a car phone. It's a vintage mustang dammit. VINTAGE. He thought as he reached for the phone. He took his eyes off the road for precisely two seconds.

His next vision only lasted for a brief second.

And then it was darkness.

March 15, 20-- 5:30 PM

The Pacific Coast Highway had more traffic than the usual. For the most part, Summer was able to drive at a fast pace down the highway, but suddenly it became immensely congested…perhaps because of a new accident. In fact, it was so immensely congested that Summer's car only moved at a pace of 5 miles per hour.

It was driving her insane. She was at least glad that DiPilla's was only three more miles away.

Her cell phone rang. "Hello?" she answered.

It was Marissa Cooper, her best friend and confidant since childhood. She had been calling Summer for the past hour. "Okay Sum, I think I'm going to cry." Figures. Summer thought.

"Listen Coop…I'll be blunt, you know me…I can't help it."

"Oh-kay," Marissa said on the other end, with tears flowing profusely.

"………It's only a flat tire, you can get out of this jam tear free, just call Triple A."

"But I'm so…so alone……" Marissa exclaimed. Marissa's on her period. Marissa's on her period. Marissa's on her period. Summer reminded herself.

Typically, Summer was always great at comforting her melodramatic friend, who never quite reacted well to bad news, even if it was just about a silly flat tire. But it was just not a great day, especially amidst all the traffic and Seth. But Summer sucked it in because Marissa needed her, so she was going to be there—even if it was just a damn flat tire.

As she comforted Marissa and told her to dial a car towing company, she started to see from afar the accident scene. Although they were still little dots, Summer could see that it was something big, as there were tons of bright shining lights from a fire and from the ambulances to fire engines to the police officers that were trying to direct the traffic. God, does everyone have to slow down and look at the crash site? It's like none of our business. She thought.

Impatient and pissed off, she overlooked the scene when it was her car's turn to get a good sight of it. She rolled her windows up so she couldn't smell the smoke from the blaze. "This traffic is killer Coop, it looks pretty terrible. See? Imagine if you were them Coop…instead you've been blessed with a flat tire—" The phone slipped from Summer's fingers. She became so pestered with searching for the phone that she didn't even recognize that she too was slowing down traffic by stopping.

A police officer knocked on her window.

"Crap." Summer rolled down her window.

"Keep movin' on there ma'am," the officer ordered.

"Yes officer, sorry officer, I was just looking—" she stopped herself. She had to think about whether or not it was illegal to drive with cell phones in California. I guess Coop will have to wait a few minutes. Hopefully she'll be okay. Sorry Coop. She thought to herself. Her car started to move. By then, the accident was too visible for her to not glimpse at it at all.

And when she did…

Her heart stopped.

Everything from that point on would be a blur in Summer's eyes.

Summer had pulled over. She'd spot that dark blue mustang anywhere. As she hurriedly got out of the car, thinking a million thoughts, she tried to assure herself that it was just an overreaction. She'd done it once before when firefighters were near her neighborhood. She thought that Seth had fallen asleep again and left the coffee pot on, but this time, without her to turn it off. It turned out to be a bunch of neighborhood kids burning newspapers.

A white convertible Lexus, a dark blue mustang and a black SUV had crashed into each other. The dark blue mustang, which seemed to have been caught in the middle, had flipped over into the other lane. Meanwhile, the white Lexus was burning, but the firefighters extinguished it. The black SUV was turned to the side. A heavy impact must have occurred.

The police officers instinctively thought that she was some nutty spectator or some local journalist trying to catch the latest buzz and held her back. "Ma'am this is for your own safety, you are not allowed near the scene, now get back into your car and join traffic, NOW."

Summer tried to get a good look at who was going into the ambulance. There were two body bags. Outside, there was a crowd of paramedics that surrounded two pairs of feet, still reviving them. Summer couldn't see. She tried to see if the car was really Seth's. She couldn't fathom it. She didn't want to.

"My husband!" was all that she could clearly scream to the officer's face. Rage blackouts. She couldn't see the cars too well. She refused to believe that it was her Seth's.

She shoved the officer's arms out of the way and maneuvered her way through. She sprinted toward where the paramedics were as the officer chased her. Both faces were bloody and covered with every life sustaining apparatus there was. She turned her head quickly to the car and saw that at the back, was a small plastic toy horse.

It was Seth's childhood companion that he carried everywhere for good luck.

She knew.

Happening in what seemed like slow motion…

Her hands covered her mouth. Her vision didn't seem right. A surge of heat went through her body…………She turned to one of the bodies. She couldn't recognize her husband instantly because his face was covered in blood. Tears were rapidly falling down her face. She shoved her way through the paramedics and held her husband's head.