Disclaimer: 1) a renunciation of any claim to or connection with; 2) disavowal; 3) a statement made to save one's own ass.
I do not own Betelgeuse, or Lydia. Juno owns Betelgeuse, and Betelgeuse owns Lydia.
(Disclaimer: I also do not claim to own the definition of Disclaimer. Merriam-Webster and View Askew own it. Clever bastards.)
Chapter 1: The Calm Before the Storm
Lydia rode back home on her bike, whistling Day-O and grinning inwardly. Another A in anatomy! ––Not that it was surprising. Other than photography, biology had to be her favorite class. Being able to see the inside of animals[find out how they ticked, was fascinating to her, though it confirmed Delia's suspicions that the paranormal had only made her more morbid. Lydia's inner grin widened as she recalled the look on her stepmother's face when she had shown her a picture of a cat's brain. Although they were both artists—and, her father noted, very high-strung—they had very little else in common. Lydia was unusual and brilliant, she thought smugly, and Delia was merely an egotistic ditz. The one good piece of work she had made had bothered them all so much that they had hidden it away in the attic. Out of sight, out of mind.
It had been at least six months since the incident, and she had finally managed shove all the memories of the foul-smelling, lecherous poltergeist to the back of her mind, filling it with happy days full of her ghostly parental units, Adam and Barbara. GPUs though they were, they always had time for her, and were full of fun and love—perfect companions. "Oh shoot," she muttered to herself, feeling a droplet of rain on her forehead. If she didn't hurry, she'd get caught in a storm for sure—she was still at least ten miles from home. "And that would be the end of my tulle," she sighed, and then caught herself, laughing, realizing that she sounded just like Delia.
"Bees make honey."
Miss Argentina shot a filthy look at the shabby man with the tiny head. Betelgeuse smirked at her and ducked back behind Highlight. He had worked his way through the stack of magazines brought from the Otherworld, and after shaking with laughter over the tabloids, pointedly tearing pictures out of the pornos, and making notes in the obituaries section, he had settled on annoying the hell out of everyone in the waiting room.
Betelgeuse turned to the headless courtier next to him and grinned toothily. "Just in? Say, how's the haunting going, huh? Losing your head?" He snorted to himself, and threw his arm around the man's shoulders. Leaning in close, he continued: "You might have gotten the heads up on me, ha ha! I'm the number one guide for your Netherworldly needs—and you need me if you want to get a HEAD in the afterlife!" He laughed wildly for a couple of seconds, and continued, sniggering, "And besides, I know a coupla nice girls who wouldn't mind giving you h––"
"Hey! Bozojuice! He's not interested!" Miss Argentina chucked a large wad of paperwork at his head. Betelgeuse frowned at her, shaking his finger.
"Babes, we're talking about the ghost with the most here! The cat who's got more up his pajama sleeves than the entire Magic Castle put together! Not to mention," his Cheshire smile widening, "the most eligible bachelor since Valentino."
The blue-skinned receptionist sighed condescendingly. "Oh, you dumb bug, he ain't got a head, right? So he ain't got ears." The waiting room rippled with laughter, and Betelgeuse snapped around to stare at his decapitated companion. "And by the way, I ain't interesting neither. Maybe," she continued wickedly, "if your head weren't so small, you'd have realized that sooner!"
Betelgeuse picked up the ball of paper on the ground, and threw it back to her, glowering. "Man, babes, you'd think we've evolved enough not to throw our shit around. Enough blood getting to your brain these days?"
It was Miss Argentina's turn to scowl. Everyone knew that she had slit her wrists to get there, but it was her joke, not that moldy rat's. "Probably picked up the practice from you, beetle man!"
He only gave a yellow-toothed grin and bowed deeply. "Aw, shucks, babes, don't flatter me!" He flattened himself out, causing her mouth to twitch. "I don't know if I can get much thinner!"
"Hello!" The laughter in the antechamber was cut short, however, when the door was flung open by a highly irritable Juno. "People, I having been pressing the buzzer for ages, now! Does no one want to see me?"
Betelgeuse took advantage of the hiatus to slip through the door she held open. "Don't mind if I do, Junebug!" he said, grinning.
My girl's name is Senora
I tell you friends, I adore her
And when she dances, oh brother!
She's a hurricane in all kinds of weather
(Jump in de line, rock your body in time) OK, I believe you!
(Jump in de line, rock your body in time) OK, I believe you!
(Jump in de line, rock your body in time) OK, I believe you!
(Jump in de line, rock your body in time) Whoa!
Lydia sang and swung around in midair, delighting in the feeling of weightlessness as the rain pounded on the roof, adding syncopation to the beats of Harry Belafonte.
Shake, shake, shake, Senora, shake your body line
Shake, shake, shake, Senora, shake it all the time (Whoa)
Work, work, work, Senora, work your body line (Yep)
Work, work, work, Senora, work it all the time
She was floating above the stairs again, wiggling her body to the music of her GPUs. She couldn't think of anything that could make her happier—
(Jump in de line, rock your body in time) Somebody, help me!
And she stopped.
Lydia sank to the floor, arms hanging limply at her sides. Instantly, Adam and Barbara were beside her instantly, arms thrown around her. She broke down in their ectoplasm and sobbed into the less-than-physical.
"Honey, what's wrong?" Barbara took Lydia's face in her hands. "What's made you upset?"
"Yeah, is Harry getting on your nerves, Lyds?" Adam chimed in, and Lydia smiled through the sheen of tears.
"No! No, you guys, this is amazing—in fact, you're the best things that have ever happened to me." She paused, and the others waited patiently. "But no one will ever be able to understand me. I'm alone in all of this—" she motioned vaguely around her. "It's the downside to being strange and unusual." Her ghostly second parents looked at each other over her head, sadness filling their eyes.
"Actually, Lyds, we've been thinking about that for some time…" Adam started, but couldn't seem to bring himself to finish the sentence. Barbara nodded sadly, and continued for him.
"Maybe you'll be happier—if—if we're not here."
Silence filled the room. Lydia stared straight ahead, feeling stunned and touched.
"No! No! That's not what I said! I want to find people who'll understand you, not idiots!" She turned to face them, rubbing away her tears angrily. "No! You are staying right here, and I'm staying with you!" She looked so defiant and determined that the ghosts could say nothing more. Adam just nodded and took her hand.
She came in the night, when the wind was in the east.
(It isn't Mary Poppins.)
She held her umbrella and rode the air currents down to the dreamers tossing and turning.
(Still isn't Mary Poppins.)
Finally she landed, the gale blowing her skirt back and forth, and, looking around, she said—
(Its not supercalifragilisticexpialidocious.)
"Shit!"
(Told ya.)
Betelgeuse grinned at Juno. "So you're saying... that technically…."
Juno stubbed out her cigarette in his hand.
"I didn't say anything like that," she continued over his howls. "I said that you were half-assed about the entire thing." She sighed as Betelgeuse continued to hop around, and with a flick of her wrist, the prankster's hand was encased in ice.
"Don't know if I should thank you, June," Betelgeuse said, eying his frozen hand nervously.
"Too early to say, I think," Juno said calmly, and lit another cigarette. "But I must tell you this, and you must listen, Betelgeuse, for once in your goddamned afterlife. The Maitland business is not settled." Betelgeuse slid down into his chair, throwing back his head and rolling his eyes. "BEE-TEL-GEUSE, you need to PAY ATTENTION!" With a snap of her fingers, he was strapped to the chair, Clockwork Orange style. She collected herself.
"Now. When you tried to marry that Deetz girl, that was idiotic, and you were stupid about doing it, too. Don't you know, my clever con-ghost, that a marriage cannot be legitimized, unless the other person says 'I do?'" His eyes, if they had not been pulled open already, would have widened. "Yeah, and that's only half. You didn't get her to sign a marriage certificate. You didn't even forge one."
"I didn't really have a chance!" Betelgeuse exploded indignantly. A plate appeared over his mouth.
"That's what's called planning ahead, young grasshopper. If you had stayed in the office just two years longer—"
"Save the nostalgia for later, Babes." Betelgeuse had finished cutting through the plate with his finger-turned-saw, and his eyes were watering. "What's the upside? And can you get rid of this? You have my attention." Juno's eyes narrowed disbelievingly, but the contraption disappeared, allowing the poltergeist to rub his eyes furiously.
"Wellll, I probably oughtn't tell you. You'll do something rash."
"Oh, ye of little faith."
"For good reason!" Juno swore at Betelgeuse and his shit-eating grin. "Alright. But God-help-me Betel, if you even go near that house, I will exorcise you." He only nodded, crossing his toes, fingers, and teeth. "Ok. The upside is that you had a contract—you save the Maitlands, Miss Deetz marries you. Which I still think is despicable."
Betelgeuse smirked. Juno glowered.
"And you held up your end of the bargain." There was a silence. "She didn't. Which means she owes you—"
"A wedding?!" The ghost with the most crowed and did somersaults in the air. "I love weddings! Drinks all around!"
"That's not all!" Betelgeuse stopped in mid-somersault. "You're partially bound to her." He fell to the ground. "She forgot to take off the ring."
And Juno swore at Betelgeuse and his shit-eating grin.