A Pair and a Petition
After a petition is brought to Judge Mental concerning Beetlejuice's lack of personal hygiene, the unfortunate Ghost with the Most is forced into a dreaded decision: take a bath, or be banished to Sandworm Land forever. There to ensure he survives this torture, Lydia is deemed the court-authorised chaperone, and remains with B. J. every step of the way. But what happens when the pair of them are in this uncomfortably close situation… and find it comfortable?
A/N
Setting: Cartoon-verse
Pairing: BeetlejuicexLydia
Sexual content in this one, you have been warned. This is a story-driven one-shot with smut, so if you do not desire to read any sexual material then I suggest you leave this one be. This has been sitting on my fan-blog for a little while now, I wasn't sure whether it was going to be okay to upload here or not but actually there isn't anything too explicit so I decided to risk it. The rules state not to have too much 'physical detail' and there isn't, so I figure it can be accepted under M.
Some references to other episodes are made in this one, but most particularly 'A Star Is Bored'.
Just so you all know, I hate any kind of fic that takes B. J.'s character and polishes him up to be something he isn't. If you're going to make him take a bath, keep him in character. So for any of you reading the description and thinking 'Oh no, attack of the Bishiejuice!' just— give this a chance, okay?
"Silence in the court,"
The angry murmurs that had filled the room quietened to a dull thrum.
Cast in inky shadows, the great hall was illuminated only by one spotlight that floodlit the forefront of the court; a thousand eyes fixed on the two desks beneath the large podium that climbed to the near-invisible ceiling.
Judge Mental was sat, gavel in hand, presiding over this spectacle with a face carved in stone. Merely a speck beneath him and stood in the circle of light, the bandaged Mayor Maynot was brandishing a scroll of paper so long that it ran into the shadows, down the blackened walkway and out through the large court doors. "Your honour, I have here in mah possession a pe-tition signed by, I think you'll find, the ma-jority of the public,"
Around the courtroom, the gathered masses began mumbling in confirmation, turning their accusing eyes on the defence's desk, behind which sat a flippant, derisively snorting blond and an apprehensive human girl. Index fingers interlocked, Lydia twirled her thumbs mindlessly. She had a feeling that her best friend's ignorance wasn't going to last for much longer.
Judge Mental drummed his fingers noisily on the surface of his lectern, coal-black eyes narrowing. "Detail the demands of this petition, Mayor," He croaked in his gravelly, monotone voice.
Maynot cleared his throat, and shook the paper in his hands with gusto. "Mahself and mah fellow Neitherworldians demand that this cretin has a lesson in personal hy-giene,"
Beetlejuice's jaundice-yellow eyes turned wide, pupils retracting. "WHAAAT?" He shrieked.
"The defendant will remain silent!" The judge reprimanded, before waving his hand in a summoning gesture. Instantly the scroll disappeared from the mayor's clutches and reappeared in the judge's hand, now running down the forefront of the podium, and into the shadows, and down the blackened walkway and out through the large court doors. Glaring down at the lengthy list of scrawled signatures and the proposal at the header of the petition, the skeleton tilted his head in the direction of the 'prosecution' team. "There is no alternative clause here. What if the defendant refuses?"
Beetlejuice slammed his hands down on the desk before him in hysteria, on his feet before he even realised what he was doing. "OF COURSE I DO!"
"I said SILENCE!"
"Settle down, B. J.," Lydia pleaded softly, wrapping her arms around his waist as she attempted to wrestle him back into his chair.
Mayor Maynot was close to heavily perspiring, fiddling with his cufflinks in his anxiety. Even he felt belittled by the oppressing judge. "Well, uh, y'see, the petition was dra-fted so that sympathisers might sign," He admitted, before balling a hand up into a fist beside his mouth and coughing emphatically, theatrically, into it. "But I suggest that if Beetlejuice refuses to take a bath then we should Feed Him to the Sandworms,"
There was tumultuous uproar, of the enthusiastic kind.
Only barely able to believe such a ruthlessly severe measure had been called for, Lydia's eyes widened, whereas Beetlejuice, beside her, went into shock. Literally. Sparks of electricity shot through the air, grounding him still and turning him into a high-voltage, cyan-blue ball of energy.
Amidst the gleefully cheering crowd, horrified neighbours Jacques and Ginger turned to look at each other in embarrassed denial. "D-D-Did you sign, Jacques?" Ginger asked nervously, her heavily accented voice higher than usual.
The French skeleton let out a weak laugh. "Non, non! Did vous, Gin-ger?" He replied, wringing his bony hands.
Ginger immediately looked away in shame. "Oh, absolutely not," She lied. They then both turned to look up at the Monster Across the Street, who was clutching his hat in his dustbin-lid-sized hands.
"… Monsieur Monster?" Jacques pressed.
Their hairy neighbour wasn't so quick to deny; and said aloud what they were all thinking. "Now, nobody said anythin' about any cotton-pickin' sandworms," He objected. Jacques and Ginger simultaneously groaned.
Mulling over the demands of the petition, Judge Mental rubbed his skeletal chin in thought before finally slamming his gavel down with the full weight of his authority. The sound echoed through the room, and to Beetlejuice it sounded like the lid of a coffin being nailed shut.
"Motion carried." The judge announced. "Beetlejuice will abide by the details written within this petition, or he will be banished to Sandworm Land. For an eternity,"
The blue ball of electricity beside Lydia exploded in a thundering crackle, accompanied by the sound of Beetlejuice screaming at the top of his lungs.
Unable to just sit idly by, Lydia vaulted over the desk. "But—your honour—this isn't fair–!"
"Objection overruled."
Mayor Maynot, whose arms were smugly folded, glanced casually over at Beetlejuice and relished the sight of him squirming in horror. "Your honour, I don't believe Beetlejuice can be trusted,"
"Indeed. His powers shall be suspended until the terms of the petition have been satisfied–"
"Oh, brother…" Lydia mumbled as she returned to her chair, sinking low in her seat.
"– and a chaperone is required. Do we have any volunteers?"
The hall suddenly turned deathly silent, though Lydia imagined that somewhere behind her she heard a cricket chirping. It was almost comical. Almost.
She didn't know if Beetlejuice's compulsively clean mother was amongst the gathered masses, but, before anyone else had a chance to speak up, Lydia threw up her hand. "Um… I volunteer, your honour,"
Maynot charged forwards in protest. "Your honour, that girl can't—!"
The gavel came down once more, the clear, sharp sound knifing through the clamour. "Overruled. The human will preside over this matter,"
"Lyds!" Beetlejuice shrieked.
She turned on him, whispering furiously. "What else do you want me to do?"
"Have you lost your MIND?" He cried, tearing at his hair. "Beg for an appeal!"
Lydia shook her head, placing her hands on his shoulders. "B. J., an appeal would require support. Which, judging by that list, you clearly don't have,"
"But-" Beetlejuice didn't get far enough; the judge's booming voice cut him off before he could object any further.
"Beetlejuice will return here tomorrow in such a condition as demanded by this petition. If in an unfit state, then he, and the girl, will be sentenced indefinitely. Court is adjourned."
The gavel swung down for the last time, and with it, Beetlejuice's head face-planted the desk in helpless misery.
Later that evening, the atmosphere in the Roadhouse was incredibly tense. Guilt-ridden, Jacques and Ginger had made excuses and had vacated the building, but this only succeeded in making the Roadhouse feel like a prison rather than a home.
As soon as they'd stepped inside, Beetlejuice had sunk back against the front door, hysterical. "B-B-Babes, I can stay on your side for a while, right? Y'know, maybe for a few months, a few years, a few centuries…"
"Beetlejuice," Lydia scolded, facing him squarely with her hands on her hips, but he wasn't listening. Slamming his eyes shut and tilting his face ceiling-ward, Beetlejuice let out a series of breaths that came out like sobs. "How could they do this to me?" He cried in frantic disbelief. "After all I've done to them! Uh, I mean— for them,"
Is it any wonder? Lydia thought with sarcasm as she rolled her eyes and shook her head. Still, she didn't want to rub salt into the wound. Taking him by the wrist, she smiled encouragingly and led him over to the sofa. "It's not the end of the world, Beej. You just have to grit your teeth through it, okay?" Sitting him down with forceful gentleness, she perched on the edge of the coffin-shaped coffee table opposite him. She tried to catch his eye but he was too busy staring miserably into his lap. If she hadn't already felt strong sympathy for him then his expression was enough to induce it then.
She felt… frustrated for him, too. What ever happened to live and let live? (Not that that was the right choice of words, considering this was the Neitherworld.) If the public could get away with doing this to him once then what was there to say they wouldn't do it again?
Lydia let out a breath, shrugged her shoulders delicately, and cast her eyes elsewhere. "Let's… also hope that they're bloodlust will be satisfied after this,"
Horrified, Beetlejuice's head snapped up. "Y'mean, they could make this an annual thing?" He gaped. He felt more than a little faint at this idea. "Ughh… this is so depressing…"
Lydia looked up, expecting to see him deflated where he sat, or at least pancake-shaped, but he wasn't. He'd completely sagged back into the couch, but in a natural way, and looked confused himself that a transformation hadn't kicked in. What had become second nature to him was now temporarily gone, and it made him feel even worse; it reminded Beetlejuice just how helpless he was. With him not one step away from a tantrum, Lydia gave him some space and began to pace the room in thought. She hesitated once she'd realised that he wouldn't have any kind of toiletries or bath products in his house. Damn. And she couldn't exactly expect him to obediently sit still if she went out to the store, or even if she popped back home; no, she needed someone to keep an eye on him. But who?
It came to her. She snapped her fingers triumphantly, and headed over to the two grim-faced pictures that hung on the living room wall. Standing sheepishly before them, Lydia cleared her throat. "Um, excuse me?"
Beetlejuice looked up at her from his position on the couch, jaw dropping. "Ba-abes–!"
Lydia ignored him and waited for Victor and Lucy to notice her, their portraits shifting in their frames. She had no idea how or why this worked, she knew that Beetlejuice's aunt and uncle had real physical forms and a house just outside of New Yuck City, and yet—here they could be, day after day.
"What do you want?" Victor asked, not as politely as he could have. He was always antagonistic when Donny wasn't around to suck up to.
Lydia hefted a thumb over her shoulder, gesturing in Beetlejuice's direction. "Can you keep an eye on Beetlejuice for me? I'll be about five minutes." She didn't know what she expected them to do, exactly, but she also had a feeling they wouldn't let her down.
"Bwuh—Lyds! Don't you trust me?"
Round-faced Lucy nodded, her face creasing up as she smiled. "Of course, Lydia, dear,"
"Thanks," Lydia turned. "I'll be right back, Beej,"
He sniffed and led back on the couch, propping his feet up on the armrest. "Oh, great, that makes me feel so much better," He cracked.
Lydia frowned at him but didn't otherwise react.
She didn't once consider racing to the Door; in fact, as time wore on, she and Beetlejuice were using this method less and less. Her bedroom hardly ever 'shifted into a gothic medieval tower-room these days and having open access in and out of Beetlejuice's house just meant that she'd begun to either clamber through her mirror to his or 'juice herself outside the front door.
And so Lydia called out the immortal three B's, and disappeared with a clap of thunder.
As soon as she'd gone – or, as Beetlejuice felt, as soon as she'd abandoned him to wallow in his misery – he snorted loudly. Shutting his eyes and folding his arms beneath his head, he tried not to think about what the rest of the day would entail. He couldn't believe he was letting himself be subjected to this kind of torture, but, hey, a ghost that bathed today would live to slime another day. He couldn't imagine a sandworm being that generous.
"What a nice girl," Aunt Lucy hummed from her portrait.
At the use of the 'n' word, Beetlejuice cracked an eye open. "Hey." He said, sitting up. "Don't insult my Lyds,"
Condescending as ever, Uncle Victor sniffed and shook his head. "You really ought to treat your girlfriend better," He accused.
Beetlejuice had just gotten comfortable reclining again when he shrugged his shoulders, the words not processing immediately. "Yeah, yeah, enough with the lectures, old timer." He replied vaguely. Then…Victor's words registered.
Beetlejuice sat bolt upright, blinking fervently. "Wait—whut?" He turned to look over at the mounted, animate portraits on the other side of the room, not sure he'd heard what he'd just thought he'd heard when, before he could counter, Lydia let herself back into the Roadhouse carrying a bag full of some of her father's old toiletries, many of them Christmas gifts that had never been used and probably never would be missed.
At the sight of her, his mind decided to poke fun. Girlfriend… A little internal voice teased. Beetlejuice averted his eyes quickly, a confusing mix of feelings bubbling inside of him.
"Did ya bring a garrotte and thumb-screws too, Lyds?" He called without looking up.
"Very funny," She threw back at him before heading for the stairwell up to his room, calling over her shoulder as she went. "I'm going to get things ready upstairs,"
"Can't wai-it," He sing-songed sarcastically, folding his arms.
The nightmare was just beginning; he could feel it in his bones. The clean water, the soapsuds, the crisp smell of freshness… he felt queasy just at the very thought. He contemplated running the hell out of there but every time he went to do it he pictured what the inside of a sandworm might look like and froze in place. No, he couldn't do that to Lydia.
Pacing (or rather, hovering) back and forth in mid-air, his expression grew all the more sour with every minute that passed.
This was going to be a long day.
Ridding the bathroom of any garbage-smelling colognes and products that Beetlejuice had lying around, Lydia gave the tub a quick scrub down before running the bath. She knew this scenario could shape out to be painfully awkward, but she wouldn't let it be that way. After all, she'd helped Beetlejuice clean up before when it had meant getting him out of showbiz. Nevertheless, she anticipated that he wasn't just going to sit still and behave, which was exactly why she'd come prepared. Fishing around in the bag she'd brought with her, she pulled out a drawstring swim-bag, only to find that in her flustered panic she'd brought her bikini and not her swimsuit. A hand came up to her head as she exhaled heavily, frustrated with herself. Quickly deciding either she didn't care or he wouldn't, she began stripping out of her poncho and leotard before pulling on the swimwear. Even without his 'juice' Beetlejuice was still an obnoxious man-child, so Lydia more than expected him to cause a splash in one way or another.
Lining up the toiletries beside the bath, and after finding a bit of paper to scrawl on, she stepped out and called down the stairs. "Beej! Everything's ready,"
She wasn't surprised when he didn't reply; stubbornly ignoring her for as long as he could.
Lydia rolled her eyes, tapping her foot impatiently on the floor. "I'm gonna count to five! One… two… three-"
A ringing sound echoed through the Roadhouse. The phone.
"Sorry, babes! Gotta get that!" Beetlejuice called up the stairwell to her, before leaping on it as though it were a lifeline. Eagerly and naively picking up the receiver, half-hoping that it was going to be some court official telling him it had all been a practical joke, Beetlejuice risked a casual glance at his nails. "It's th' B. J.,"
"Oh, Junior! I heard everything, dear. Do you need me to come over and give you a ha—?"
Hair standing up on the back of his neck, Beetlejuice slammed the receiver back down as quickly as he'd picked it up, hanging up on his mother before she could get another word in edgeways.
"Coming, Lyds!" He cried, before racing up to meet her.
Skidding to a halt in his bedroom, his eyes bugged out of his head when he caught sight of her. Lydia was stood in a form-fitting red bikini, patterned with black mid-flight bats. For a moment Beetlejuice struggled to process the fact that there was a scantily clad young woman in his bedroom; it wasn't exactly a sight he was used to. He tried gulping down a lump that had formed in his throat, which proved to be at least a bit more successful than his attempt to remove his eyes from her. He'd seen her in a swimsuit before, yes, but never anything like this. Recovering as best he could, he gestured to her almost shakily. "Uh, babes? What's up with the 'suit?"
Lydia toed the ground with a bare foot, managing a smile. "Oh, it's- just in case I get wet. I can imagine you putting up a fight." She said coolly.
Curiosity sated, Beetlejuice raised his nose mock-snootily, adopting his sophisticated persona. "Lydia. Have a little faith in me, dear girl," He articulated, a hand on his heart.
Lydia threw him a look, letting out a short laugh. "I have faith in you all right. To act like you. Now come on, Beej." She motioned towards the open bathroom door, beckoning him with her finger. "I've drawn your ba-ath,"
"BLARGHHH," Beetlejuice gagged, opening his mouth and sticking his finger in it for good measure. As Lydia turned, however, she casually tossed something in his direction without a second glance.
"Huh?" Beetlejuice blinked at the object as it sailed through the air before watching as it landed in front of him. He glanced down at the scrap of paper that had drifted to his feet, scrutinising the quick drawing on its crumpled surface. It was a sketch of his bathtub. "Oh great. Real cute, babes,"
"Gotcha," She giggled. "Now zap yourself into some swim shorts or something and get in here,"
At how casually she'd said that Beetlejuice slumped where he stood, feeling as though he had weights tied to his wrists. He felt useless, which, in turn, made him feel more than a little bitter. "Uh, they grounded my 'juice', Lyds, remember?"
Lydia stopped, mouth forming a small 'o' shape. "Oh. That's right, I forgot. Well, then, let's change positions." She gestured to the open doorway, raising her eyebrows. "After you, Beej,"
The ghost snorted, before folding his arms and stomping a booted foot childishly. "No. Way. I'd rather stick a porcupine up my nose,"
"Beetlejuice,"
"This is humiliatin',"
Lydia jabbed a finger in the direction of the stairwell, indirectly motioning to the phone. "Would you rather I was your mother?" She demanded, knowing this would catch him out.
At this Beetlejuice grumbled and his hands fell to his sides petulantly. Under the scrutiny of her gaze, he surrendered and hunted around in his overflowing, chaotic chest of drawers for his striped swimming trunks, before storming into the bathroom, the door swinging to a sharp close behind him.
While he changed, Lydia sighed and slumped back on his bed. He was such a handful sometimes. She didn't understand what was so humiliating; it wasn't like she hadn't seen him half-naked before. As soon as her thoughts had wandered into this territory, her cheeks turned red despite herself, and she tried to smooth out the smile that tugged at her lips at the mere memory.
In truth, she'd partly agreed to do this as his friend, to help him through it and to save him the torture of going through it with someone else who didn't know or understand him the way she did. But the other part of her agreed to do it because… because what? Because the task was intimate? … Because she loved him?
Stop it! She mentally scolded herself, clasping her hands in her lap tightly. But it was no good, her conscience had surfaced and was giving her a good talking to.
Lydia was a lot more sensible than Beetlejuice, and was more in tune with herself than he was with himself. Whether or not he knew it, Beetlejuice was quick to show raw emotion, and didn't seem to understand the meaning of the phrase "actions speak louder than words". In his case, his actions were deafening. Yet, at the same time, he was also quick to deny he had any capacity to 'feel' at all. Lydia was the opposite. She didn't wear her heart on her sleeve all the time because she was afraid it might get crushed, but that didn't mean she didn't know how she felt. She was painfully aware of her own feelings.
Clapping her hands to either side of her head, she shook it forcibly to dispel these niggling thoughts. This was hardly the time or the place.
"B. J., how are you doing in there?" She called instead, swinging her legs to and fro. "If you've drained the bath then you're in serious trouble."
After a brief pause, a half-naked Beetlejuice opened the door, not knowing whether to laugh or cry. "The thought did cross my mind," He admitted, smiling innocently.
"Uh huh," Lydia arched a dark eyebrow before hopping off the bed and following him in.
When Beetlejuice turned back to face the tub, he began staring at the water as though facing a death sentence. He let out a deep breath, whining dejectedly. "It takes me months to smell just the way I like it…" He groaned.
Courage. Courage, old boy. He tried to tell himself, but it wasn't enough to settle the queasy feeling in his gut.
"I know," Lydia said with feeling. She wasn't really looking forward to this either. After being around him all day, every day for so long, her senses had become desensitised to how he smelt. She could even stand his notorious socks. If he cleaned up now she would have to get re-accustomed to him going back to his normal self after reappearing in court tomorrow, which, of course, she would do without complaint. She loved hi- was his best friend after all.
To try and lift his spirits, Lydia gave him a supportive pat on the back of his shoulder.
"Look, a bath can be relaxing." She tried, flashing him what she hoped was an encouraging smile. "Just pretend that it's... it's sludge instead of water,"
Beetlejuice cocked an eyebrow at her, incredulously. That was the dumbest suggestion he'd ever heard.
Lydia could see this was getting them nowhere. Motioning to the bath desperately, she tried to stir him into moving. "Well?" She prompted.
At this Beetlejuice displayed his crooked green teeth in a cheesy grin. "Nope; it's a tub, Lyds. See? Got taps instead of a bucket,"
Really, Lydia should've expected that, but she hadn't. Frustration put a cap on her amusement, and she simply remained pointing sternly at the water. "Beej, get in," She pleaded with both a disappointed and firm edge to her voice.
That was when he really panicked.
"But Lyds! Have a heart!"
"I have one, and it's telling me that it doesn't want to see you fed to the sandworms!" She countered, giving him the don't-try-my-patience look that she often threw him whenever she happened to be 'mothering' him. "You can make as many excuses as you like, Beetlejuice, but this is happening. Today."
Beetlejuice gulped; Lydia really wasn't going to cut him any slack. Hesitating, his bottom lip seemed to wobble before he made his regretful decision and clambered into the tub. Or, more accurately, onto the tub, and in the most clumsy, drawn-out way possible at that. In the end he had his hands and feet clinging for dear life onto the rim of the bath tub, suspended over the water and staring down in horror while breathing raggedly in and out. To Lydia he almost looked like a startled cat.
"You're only making it worse for yourself," She warned him. When he didn't respond, she rolled her eyes.
Cruel to be kind... She justified, before poking him suddenly and sharply in the gut.
"Yeeee!" Beetlejuice's fingers and toes lost purchase, slipping from the rim of the tub, before he dropped in with an almighty splash.
Watching as the bathwater waved precariously from side to side, some of it spilling over the edge, Lydia waited for Beetlejuice to resurface. Eventually he raised his head, hacking and spluttering, his long blond hair plastered to his purple-tinged skin.
Tipping her head on one side, Lydia smiled almost patronisingly. "There, was that so bad?"
"BLARGHHAHHHHH!" Beetlejuice gurgled in response, coughing up soapy water.
Lydia sighed, before bending down to pick up the first bath-product in the line: two-in-one shampoo-conditioner. "I had to ask," She said with a shrug, popping the cap on the bottle.
Beetlejuice's eyes went from being tightly clamped shut to wide as dinner plates. He held up his hands in objection. "L-Lyds, go easy with that thing!"
"You're unbelievable, you know that?"
"There's nothin' wrong with my hair!"
Lydia squirted the liquid into her palm, and leant forwards. Ominously forwards, in Beetlejuice's eyes. "True." She admitted with a smile. "But you've got nothing to prove to me, it's the judge I'm worried about. Now—" He was trying to avoid her hand. "—stay— still—"
Having him facing her was arguably the worst position to reach his hair. It wasn't as though he had much of a fringe going on so there wasn't much of a 'front' to get to. His hair sat high enough on his forehead so that it could be easily reached at most angles, except, funnily enough, this one. After Beetlejuice had surrendered and had quit trying to avoid Lydia's hand, she naively leant the rest of the way over to lather the unwanted gunk up in his hair. That was when he found the benefits of this position: Beetlejuice suddenly found himself lost in two mounds that he had never before realised existed.
Eyes wide, nose barely a hairbreadth away from her thinly clothed chest, he let out a tiny squeak.
Lydia – his Lydia – had breasts. He'd hardly been able to notice them before, not when they were lost beneath a baggy poncho, but now – up close and personal – they were all he could see. Even when she'd worn swimwear before it was one thing seeing them budding in a swimsuit but quite another exposed in a bikini.
"B-B-Babes?" Beetlejuice whimpered, voice pitched high.
"Yes, B. J.?"
He swallowed the blockade in his throat. To stop his hands doing something stupid in their curiosity he squeezed the sides of the tub so hard that it left impressions in his palms. He felt a sudden twitching in his shorts that made him squeak once more.
"Uh… i-is this way… easier for ya?" He asked, voice becoming a little hoarse.
Feeling the tickle of his breath against the small but perfectly-formed buds she had for breasts, Lydia became all too aware of just how fast her heart was pounding, suddenly realising the implications of this position. "Um… yeah. Is it… okay for you?"
"Oh, yeah—I-I mean… uh… mmm."
Beetlejuice soon realised he was smiling goofily. He put that right the second it came to his attention.
Much as the prospect of being clean was an unwelcome one, the feel of Lydia's fingers massaging the top of his head was stupidly pleasant. Beetlejuice didn't know whether to let his eyes drift closed to enjoy the feel of it or keep on staring at the two mounds before him that were begging for his attention.
Lydia sure was taking her sweet time.
"Um... want me to lower my head?" Beetlejuice eventually asked, half-testing her.
"I-It's okay, I can reach from here," Lydia replied.
After detecting the sound of shaky nerves in her voice, Beetlejuice began to suspect that she wasn't all as innocent as she was acting. Not to mention the fact that it wouldn't take this long to shampoo even Rapunzel's hair. Lydia was taking her time and she was staying in this position because she wanted him to notice what was clearly in his face. So then... So then what did that mean, exactly?
I gotta keep myself under control… Beetlejuice told himself weakly, slamming his eyes shut.
Luckily for him that was when Lydia chose to empty a filled cup of water over his head, rinsing out the suds from his hair.
"Blarghhh—?"
"Aheh. Sorry, B. J.." Lydia apologised, re-filling the cup and emptying it over his head once more.
Beetlejuice could only nod slightly in acknowledgement of her apology. He wouldn't admit it, but he was actually almost grateful that something had managed to snatch his gaze away from her cleavage, it allowed the growing urgency located in his swimwear to become less prominent.
As Lydia bent down to pick up the next product, Beetlejuice brushed back his damp hair out of his eyes. The sight of what was in Lydia's hand as she straightened, however, forced a shriek out of him. "Not that!"
"It's just soap, B. J.,"
"Anything but that!"
Lydia advanced on him tiredly, but Beetlejuice wasn't going to lie down and accept this. He slid his hand along the surface of the water and projected a good handful of it in her direction, completely dampening her from head to toe.
"Hey!"
The one-sided water fight was good, it eased the tenseness in his swimming trunks all the more. As Lydia tried again with the soap, Beetlejuice flailed away from her and - though this time accidentally - splashed her some more.
Lydia's patience was growing thin. "B. J., grow up!"
"Like you know what I'm goin' through!" He countered.
"I'm completely soaked now!"
The ghost shrugged his shoulders and rested his elbow on his knee, propping his head up in his hand. Immature as ever, he stuck his tongue out at her briefly, obviously unsympathetic. "Just as well you wore the suit,"
Frustrated with him, Lydia's brows furrowed.
I do know what he's going through, she thought contrarily, squeezing the soap so hard that she almost lost her hold on it. That's the whole reason why I'm here in the first place. Would I act like such a big baby if I were in his shoes? No, I— At that instant, she mentally settled on something.
Lydia's expression changed only minimally, but manifested into one of pure cunning. She extended a leg over the bathtub, and then proceeded to climb in.
Beetlejuice's eyes widened. "B-Babes, you don't have to—"
She cut him off, settling down into the water completely. "And if you had your powers I probably would have been accidentally in here by now. You wanted me to know what you were going through, right? Besides, I'd rather be in here and wet than out there and wet,"
"But…"
Lydia made a 'spin' motion with her finger. "Turn around,"
"Hey; I'm not five years old!" Beetlejuice grumbled, pouting.
"Right, and like you're really going to willingly torture yourself." She shot back, brandishing the bar of soap in an almost threatening manner.
Beetlejuice let out an exasperated breath, before turning dutifully so that his back was to her, the tub squeaking with each clumsy, unenthusiastic move he made.
"Fine... Let's just… get this over with, babes," He groaned.
Lydia had just finished lathering the suds up on his back when Beetlejuice felt sure he felt something moving by his feet. He felt a very faint tickling sensation too, as though the plug had shifted slightly and was sucking the water clean away in a mini whirlpool formation. Sure enough, the bath soon began to gurgle, seemingly draining, before stopping.
Beetlejuice glanced back at Lydia questioningly, but missed what happened next. Something shot up through the bath water and flew into the air; small, white, disk-shaped. The bath-plug. And what was more, something seemed to be writhing beneath the surface of the water, emerging from the drain.
Lydia's eyes widened. "Uh, B. J.–" She began in warning.
Feeling the water draining around them, Beetlejuice held his hands up, palms-out, in a gesture of innocence.
"What? It wasn't me, babes," He told her, still glancing back over his shoulder at her as the octopi-like tentacles began to writhe out of the plughole. "Honest! I didn't touch the plu– G-G-GGYAHHHHH-!" The creature from the drain coiled around Beetlejuice's leg, constricting tight, and Beetlejuice suddenly let loose an almighty shriek in terror.
The next thing he knew, he'd been hoisted out of the water and was dangling precariously over the bathroom floor, arms pinwheeling in panic.
"Beetlejuice!" Lydia cried, practically falling out of the tub to escape the Neitherworldian monster.
"GET— ME- DOWWWN!" The ghost screamed, flailing.
Panicked, Lydia frantically looked around the interior of the bathroom before catching glimpse of a slimy loofah brush that she'd missed in her clean-up operation earlier. Grabbing it and holding it like a sword, she began striking the Thing in the Tub with it, throwing all her weight behind her blows.
After jabbing the handle of the brush into one of its larger suckers, the creature recoiled, dropped Beetlejuice outright and retreated down the plughole, followed quickly by the remaining bathwater.
Beetlejuice hit the ground, hard and face-first. "Oooff—!"
Dashing to his side, Lydia dropped down on her knees next to him, brushing her hair out of her face. "You okay, Beej?" She asked in genuine concern.
"Uhhuuuuh…" He moaned, body aching from head to toe. "I'm out of the water… that's somethin'…"
Lydia winced, sitting back to give him room to compose himself. "That looked like it hurt,"
"Yeah," He sobbed into the floor.
Glancing behind them at the tub, Lydia frowned. "Well, I guess the bath is out of the question," She deduced, not wanting to have another run in with the creature that seemed as though it had jumped right out of their year's-past haunted house.
"Does that mean this nightmare is finally over?" Beetlejuice asked wistfully as he pulled himself upright.
Guilt-ridden, Lydia shook her head. "Not quite," She said, and the bad news made Beetlejuice moan in pain.
Glancing around, Lydia managed to find a plastic stool to sit him on before locating the soap she'd dropped in her panic just by the feet of the bathtub. As soon as Beetlejuice had sat down, she wordlessly handed the soap bar to him.
He held the item at arm's length as though it were toxic, staring at the expectantly waiting Lydia in incredulous dismay. "… A-Are you just gonna stand there?"
"That's what I have to do, remember? The idea of being ingested by a sandworm doesn't exactly thrill me, B. J.,"
Beetlejuice pouted. He kind of thought he preferred it better when she was cleaning him... not that he'd ever say so out loud. "Yucghhhh," He protested, sniffing the soap and quickly wishing he hadn't.
Lydia tried another tactic, imploring."Look, Beej, I promise once this is all over I'll help you get smothered in whatever slop you want, but you have to do this. Else it's 'goodbye' Neitherworld, and 'hello' Saturn,"
"I get it! I get it, all ready," He cried, arms flailing exaggeratedly.
"But you don't! I'm not doing this because I want to, Beej, you know I wouldn't put you through something you hated so much. I'm just trying to make it easier for you. That's what…" Lydia hesitated, then smiled almost sadly. "That's what... friends… do,"
Staring at her, realising that the puppy dog eyes weren't going to work today, Beetlejuice exhaled heavily. "Yeah," He replied weightily, scratching the back of his neck. "Yeah..."
Lydia had picked up a towel and was now patting her body dry with it, raising her eyebrows in prompt. Agreeing with her or not, he still hadn't moved. "Bu-ut if you don't get a move on, I might have to skip the niceties. I'd like to get home within the next century or two," She cooed, though only half-joking.
Beetlejuice slowly raised the bar of soap to his arm, stopped, then froze outright. "I think I've gone into shock, babes,"
"Wouldn't be the first time." She rolled her eyes and folded up the towel, before making her way back over to him. "Give it here,"
He handed the soap over, all too willing to have it removed from his possession.
His stubbornness seemingly reaching it's own limitations, Beetlejuice didn't put up much more of a fight. Bowing his head, he uttered his final objection. "This is gross on so many levels…"
Lydia tried not to feel hurt by this, but still felt a little contrary. "Well, excuse me,"
Realising how he'd sounded, Beetlejuice quickly tried to correct himself. "Not you, babes! I didn't mean that,"
"I should hope not. Arm."
Understanding her vague command, he raised the one she was soaping tiredly. They proceeded like that until he was soaped from head to toe.
Lydia found a bucket and a flannel to wash him down with, except when she went to fill the bucket with water from the bath a ticking, gurgling sound emanated from the pipes. Before long, a purple tentacle emerged from the tap, but not a single drop of water. Lydia groaned and tried the sink instead, which, thankfully, didn't seem to have the same problem.
"Almost there, Beej," She told him soothingly.
Now that soap was no longer involved, however, Beetlejuice didn't seem to mind doing the rest himself. Lydia wondered if it was his pride kicking in; maybe he thought it was degrading being sponge-bathed by someone else entirely, even if that someone else was Lydia.
When all was done, she straightened up, smiling broadly. "See? Was that so hard?"
"Hard?" Beetlejuice repeated dubiously. "Babes, it was excruciating!"
"Excruciating, huh? That's a big word for you,"
The ghost glowered back at her, trying to tell his lips not to curve up into the smile that wanted to settle there.
Strangely proud of him, Lydia gave him a thumbs-up. "I'll just get your towel," She said, and went to turn. That, however, was when her foot found the bar of soap that they'd discarded on the floor. Slipping on it and crying out as she began to fall, Beetlejuice lunged quickly, reaching out. His fingers snagged in something as he grabbed her but he didn't have time to think about that, he was only concerned about catching her. Managing to pull her onto her feet, the soap shot out from Lydia's underfoot and flew off into the other corner of the room.
"Nice catch... Thanks, B. J.," Lydia smiled, turning. But Beetlejuice wasn't looking at her face, he was looking down. Lydia looked down too, and what she then saw there made her cringe.
Beetlejuice's fingers had gotten caught in the right strap of her bikini top, and had unwittingly pulled the right cup completely aside, exposing her pale breast.
Lydia's face not only turned red, but froze in embarrassed horror.
Temporarily stuck in a trance, Beetlejuice suddenly came to, stammering. "B-B-B-Babes— I didn't mean—"
In a fluster, Lydia wheeled around and adjusted her bikini top so that she could regain her modesty, heart drumming madly in her chest. "It's o-k-k-kay, Beej," She found herself laughing nervously, if not a little hysterically. "A-A-Accidents happen,"
Beetlejuice averted his eyes, feeling hot under the collar, so to speak. "Y-You got nothin' to be embarrassed about, babes,"
"W-Who said I was embarrassed?" Lydia said quickly as she turned back to face him, cheeks still flushed. "I'm not embarrassed. ... Why... Why shouldn't I be embarrassed?"
The words fell out of Beetlejuice's mouth without him even having directed them to. "They're perfect," He mumbled.
Lydia's eyes widened.
Realising what he'd just said, Beetlejuice contained a small shriek of disbelief. "I- I— I mean— Uh... they're, uh... W-What did I just—?"
"'They're perfect,'" Lydia prompted, eyes gleaming.
"Uh... Right..." Beetlejuice chuckled nervously, gulping. "I—I just said that?"
"Thinking out loud?"
"Yeah. NO. I mean. Uh..." He faltered, looking at her face, then finding his gaze drawn back to her chest, then back again. "I just, uh... didn't realise they'd gotten so… so…"
"Big?" Lydia said, somehow managing to sound both sheepish and seductive at the same time. "You weren't looking,"
"N-No kiddin'." Beetlejuice's brow was damp with sweat. What he was to say next would no doubt change the angle of the conversation, if not change their whole relationship, but he couldn't help himself.
"… I'm- lookin' now, babes," He admitted, a slight bashful smile tugging at his lips.
Lydia's eyes seemed to shine. His frank admission suddenly filled her with a wild kind of confidence, equally giving her enough hope that her feelings were requited to spur her on to do what she did next. Closing the gap between them, she pressed her lips firmly to his.
Beetlejuice blinked in dazed surprised, before his eyes slipped closed and he returned her kiss. It waspainfully yet pleasantly short-lived, as most experimental first kisses are, and it made Lydia's heart ache with want. As the two pulled apart, panting, their noses tip to tip, Beetlejuice gathered his courage. Unable to feel satisfied with that brief contact alone, he pulled Lydia into his lap and locked his mouth on hers in what was to be a lengthier, deeper kiss.
Finally, withdrawing enough to speak against each other's lips, Lydia smiled. "Beej..."
"L-Lyds..."
It was now or never; they either stopped here and regretted not taking the plunge, or stumbled into this new relationship territory together.
Encouraged and still riding her confidence boost, Lydia's hand slipped around to the back of her neck. She found what she'd been looking for - the end of one of the strings of her bikini - and gave it a tug. The cups of the bikini-top fell down, and when her hand slipped down to the second knot and undid that one, it came off completely.
Beetlejuice's pupils dilated, his hands immediately latching onto her exposed chest. Lips parted, tongue practically lolling in want, his hands squeezed.
"Aah!" Lydia squealed in surprise, tilting back and resting her hands on his knees.
One moment hungrily caressing her chest, the next ceasing, Beetlejuice seemed to come to out of some adrenaline and testosterone rush.
Guilt slicing through him, wrestling with two consciences, his hands withdrew slightly.
Hold the phone, this— this— it had just come out of nowhere.
"B-Babes...? Are we... doin' this?" He said all of a sudden.
"Y-Yes?"
"I'm not dreamin'?"
"No," Lydia smiled. Why; did he dream about doing such things as this with her?
"O-Okay. ... Lyds? A-Are y'sure about this? I mean…"
Lydia leant in close, and without physically stopping him her proximity made his voice cut out. "B. J., I couldn't be surer. There's nothing 'wrong' with us,"
He swallowed. 'Us'. 'Us' sounded good.
"I know that. But I- I don't wanna pressure ya, babes. I can… I can wait,"
"Wait till I catch you up more? Wait till I'm a ghost too? I've already done a lot of waiting, Beej."
"Y'have?" His voice was hoarse.
"I've always loved you. Why could you never see me right there in front of you before?"
The 'L' word. She said the 'L' word!
"I—I did! You were the one that didn't do the seein'!" He objected, incredulous.
"What? Oh, look, we are not arguing about this…"
"Oh no, yer not getting the last word." Beetlejuice kissed her firmly, cutting her off, before breathing against her lips, "I love ya, babes."
Lydia smiled, a smile so dazzling that it warmed his dead heart.
Having decided, Beetlejuice coiled his arms around her, pulling her almost-bare body to his. Her lips were on his without another word, arms slipping around his neck just as her tongue shyly but longingly slipped into his mouth. Beetlejuice's eyebrows arched in surprise, but he returned the deeper kiss wholeheartedly, his own green-striped tongue wrestling with hers.
As Lydia pressed her body flush to his, the feel of her perked chest made Beetlejuice feel an excruciatingly pleasant tightness in his trunks. Conscious that he didn't want her to feel just how much of an effect she was having on him, he tried to ease her back to the edge of his lap, but Lydia didn't seem to want to comply, she was trying to move closer.
Oh boy… Beetlejuice tried a different tactic instead, and, lips still locked, tilted forwards so that Lydia leant backwards. The only problem was, she hadn't been expecting it and just as he'd begun to tip her she'd unwound her arms from around his neck.
"Beetlejuice!" She gasped as she lost her balance and slid backwards towards the floor. He moved faster than he knew was possible considering he was without his powers, in the process kicking out the stool to the other side of the room, and went down with her, shifting his hold on her so that he was cupping her head and hitching one knee up as he lowered her to the floor. Lydia avoided hurting herself, but Beetlejuice hadn't avoided what he'd been trying to keep from her.
He was more-or-less lying over her whilst still remaining in an upright position. Just barely holding onto his shoulders, Lydia's knees were up, her legs splayed, dark hair pooled around her flushed, eager face. Her eyes were focused on where his hand was now on the outside of her thigh, keeping her legs in the spread and aloft position, before her gaze travelled to the rather now obvious prominence in his trunks that he'd been trying to conceal.
Beetlejuice's face turned a luminous red in colour, and not just out of embarrassment. It was too much, seeing her topless and in such a position, however accidental. He let out a breath like a hiss. "Lyds–"
The pink of her cheeks had deepened in colour too but she was looking at him so pleadingly.
There was going to be no stopping if they took the plunge, they were both aware of that. Beetlejuice swallowed thickly, disguising a laugh. " 'm s-supposed to be getting 'clean',"
"Y-Yeah. But… there's no reason we can't be…" Nervous, Lydia's voice gave out, giving him the punch line.
"… dirty?"
She nodded ever so softly. She was nervous, but not in a bad way, moreover in a good, excited way. There was no doubt in her face, and she wanted him to know it. Hands slipping from his shoulders, they travelled to her hips and, more importantly, the straps of her bikini bottoms. As she began to push them towards her raised thighs, Beetlejuice's throat turned dry before quickly watering. Hands shaking, he hooked his red-tipped fingers in her remaining garment and peeled it the rest of the way off of her.
His increasingly obvious, yet still concealed, appendage throbbed.
Lydia gently raised her eyebrows in prompt, smiling softly.
Beetlejuice knew what was expected of him. 'You show me yours, I'll show you mine.' He suddenly felt like the less experienced one, and wished more than anything that his powers hadn't been grounded. He fought to get his trunks off in the shortest amount of time possible, worried that his nerve would fail him if he took too long.
When he was done, he pulled Lydia up from the hard bathroom floor and sat back, propping her up in his lap. The heat coming off of both of their faces was so intense that it almost felt as though it was warming the air around them, both beginning to perspire heavily.
Foreheads touching, the tip of Beetlejuice's pointed nose brushing hers, Lydia edged closer. "I don't want to be just your friend anymore, B. J.," She breathed, hands cupping his shoulders.
Beetlejuice smiled almost bashfully, eyes half-lidded as he stared at her with a keen affection that he had always struggled to keep hidden.
"You never were, Lyds." He admitted as she lowered herself down closer, closer, closer still, mere millimetres away. "You never were,"
Their breaths hitched as they connected. Beetlejuice let out a groan he couldn't have tried to withhold, feeling Lydia's warmth spread through him. At first she felt so small, so fragile, on top of him, but Lydia quickly dispelled this mental impression of his by pulling him into another kiss. As soon as their lips collided the tight clamping sensation around Beetlejuice eased as she accepted him in further, adjusting quickly.
"Aahh, Beetlejuice—!" Lydia cried as he began to move within her, his face now turning from one of indescribable tenderness to one of lecherous hunger.
She was his now. All his.
At some point the Roadhouse's front door had noisily opened for the tenants that had previously abandoned it, and, fortunately for Beetlejuice and Lydia, they'd heard it. Capping their volume, registering the sounds of Jacques and Ginger and believing they would simply head to their own homes within the sprawling Roadhouse, they mostly managed to ignore interruption. That was, until, the interruption marched on right up the stairs.
Beetlejuice and Lydia froze where they remained on the bathroom floor.
"Beetlejuice, we wanted to say we're sorry," Ginger said on the other side of the door.
"I'm not," The ghost replied without a glance back, smiling mischievously at Lydia where she lay mussed and spread-eagled beneath him.
"Is everything okay in there?" Ginger continued.
"Oui, I 'ope you are not taking it out on Lydia," Jacques said, in a voice that was both apologetic and firm.
At this, Beetlejuice and Lydia stared at each other deeply, cheeks reddening, before simultaneously breaking off into fits of laughter.
"The court finds Beetlejuice in an acceptable state. He is free to go,"
"But, your honour, I—I-" Mayor Maynot was speechless. He'd have expected Beetlejuice to be completely demoralised and humiliated at having to have been put through such an experience. The last thing he'd anticipated was to see him standing there smugly with his hands in his pockets, face lit up with a beaming smile as he faced the judge. The idea that he hadn't even been fazed by the whole thing made it feel like a complete waste of time.
"Overruled. Court is adjourned," Judge Mental cried, his gavel swinging down for the last time.
Almost immediately feeling his power flowing back through his body, Beetlejuice let out a breath of relief and extended his arm out to the side. Lydia latched onto it, linking up with him, before the two strolled out of the building with their heads held high.
"You know, we should celebrate," Lydia proposed once they were outside, glancing up at the blue Neitherworldian sky in longing.
Beetlejuice wasn't convinced.
"We've got no time to celebrate, babes! My rot tub's calling me; I've got to start layering on the grime, and quick. I feel my character slippin' off as it is, any minute I'm gonna start helping ol' ladies across the street!"
"I see," Lydia said emphatically, though also a little teasingly, before walking on ahead. When she was a good few feet away, she glanced at him over her shoulder, a grin tugging at her lips. "And you didn't even get to hear what I had in mind…" She announced in a high, velvety voice, before continuing at a leisurely pace. "Oh well; enjoy your soak in the tub, Beej,"
Beetlejuice's eyes widened, the penny dropping as he picked up her real meaning. "Wait—babes—!" He cried, dashing after her. Boy, had she managed to get ahead of him fast. "Hey! Hey, wait up! What did ya have in mind? Lyds? Babycakes? Ly-yds!"
With him frantically floating after her the entire way, Lydia retained a cryptic smile on her face before ultimately sharing her mind. Needless to say, the rot tub wasn't put to any use right away.