Forward: I do not own or attempt to take credit for any of the characters in this story. They are all from the film Beetlejuice(1988) or the television program Beetlejuice(1989-1991). If there are any issues with my use of these characters, I apologize in advance and will immediately address those issues. Thank you.
"Lydia..." he called out in the night. "I'm back... Back to finish where I left off..."
He caressed her cheek with his cold, lifeless hand, each knuckle sticking out profoundly. She put her hand over his, holding it on the soft, warm flesh of her cheek. She closed her eyes for a moment, and opened them to look him in the eye.
"Why did you leave?" she whispered tearfully.
He gazed into her dark eyes, an apologetic look in his own.
"All that matters is that I won't ever again." he said in his gritty voice.
He leaned in, lips parted slightly, and closed his yellow eyes...
Lydia Deetz awoke suddenly, drenched in cold sweat and tears. She acknowledged that it had only been a dream, and turned on her side to face the window of her bedroom. A gentle rain was beginning to poor, beating a soft rhythm on the glass, the icy droplets of liquid clinging to one another, and dripping slowly down the window, giving it the appearance of crying. She knew that feeling. She pulled the soft silky comforter up against her chin, feeling the smooth surface glide over the pale flesh of her arms and shoulders. The deep purple of the fabric glimmered in the moonlight that slightly illuminated her room. The lace spiderweb curtains billowed in a mysterious and unexplainable wind.
Unexplainable... Nothing was unexplainable.
Her mind brought forth a memory from nearly four years ago. A memory of a ghost in a striped suit, his wild whitish hair sticking up in all directions, frosted with the slightest amount of green mold. His eyes were circled with black. Death. That is what it was. His eyes were surrounded with death.
His name was Betelgeuse.
Betelgeuse. Beetlejuice.
Beetlejuice, Beetlejuice, Beetlejuice. She simply could not forget.
Saying his name. The marriage that almost was...
"Beetle-" she whispered, but stopped mid call as Barbra Maitland poked her head in the door. It always startled Lydia when Barbra did this.
"Lydia?" Barbra said "Lydia, dear, is everything all right? It's nearly four o'clock in the morning."
Lydia sat up straight in bed, and looked at Barbra. "Yeah," she said in the raspy voice of little sleep. "I'm fine. Just can't sleep is all."
Barbra slid her body through the door and sat on Lydia's bed, concern filling her eyes.
"Lydia," she whispered. "You were sobbing..." she put her ghostly hand on Lydia's leg, squeezed gently, and moistened her lips. "Are you sure nothing is wrong?" she said quietly.
Lydia thought. What could she say? She couldn't possibly tell Barbra that she had been fantasizing about the ghost that had almost been the cause of a major disaster in their home. She could not begin to tell of the dreams she had had since that night, when Barbra herself and husband in death, Adam, were nearly exorcised and banished to the lost souls room... the night when the sculptures of her stepmother had been brought to life and held their creator, and Charles Deetz captive to see their daughter's seemingly involuntary wedding... the night with the red dress...
"Dear?" Barbra called out, snapping Lydia out of her distracted state.
Lydia worked up a smile, "Everything is fine. Just a bad dream."
Barbra smiled back, accepting the response. She kissed Lydia on the forehead lightly, and then left the room. Outside of the door, Lydia heard Adam whispering "Is everything all right, Barbra?"
and Barbra mumbling her answer as the ghostly couple departed to their own room.
Lydia relaxed in her bed, and closed her eyes.
At least she could be with him in her dreams...
Chapter 1
Reality
Lydia got out of bed, placing her dainty feet on the freezing wood floors of her bedroom. The smell of burning food filler her nostrils. Delia must be making breakfast this morning, she thought to herself, rolling her eyes.
She slid her feet into a pair of soft black slippers, and retrieved her robe from the floor next to her vanity table. She put her slender arms into the sleeves of the robe, and knotted the rope tightly around her midsection. Sitting down at the vanity, she took a brush from the wooden surface and began to brush her long black hair, rearranging her messy bangs into their regular, choppy but neat state.
For a fraction of a second, as she stared at herself in the mirror, she thought she had seen a flash of black and white in the reflection. Wishful thinking, she determined, was the cause of this vision.
Standing up slowly from her chair, she headed toward the door and grasped the cool metal of the doorknob in her hand, and braced herself for the day ahead before turning it slowly and entering the hallway. Walking down the hard wood hall, she turned to the top of the long staircase. She slipped ever so slightly on the stairs as she strolled down them, but caught herself by chance, before she fell.
"Lydia!" Delia called in that horrid sing-song voice of hers, causing a head splitting echo through the whole house. "Breakfast time!"
Lydia stomped her way down the final stairs and entered the kitchen. Delia was bustling away, slapping portions of burnt egg whites and charred toast onto plates was ready to hand them off to whoever would accept them. Lydia, much to the displeasure of Delia, went to the cabinet and fished out a box of cereal. She did not feel very risky that morning.
Charles came down the stairs, took a plate of what once was food from the hands of his wife, grabbed the morning paper, and went back upstairs to his study to work. Delia watched him walk away, and rolled her eyes.
Adam and Barbra passed Charles in the hallway above, exchanged greetings, and parted, The couple floated down the stairs and into the kitchen, where they thanked Delia for making such a lovely breakfast, causing Delia to beam with unneeded pride. They took the plates and sat down at the table across from Lydia. They smiled warmly at her.
"Good morning, Lydia!" Adam said in his friendly, male dominant way. He always seemed to sound as if he was reading from a script.
Lydia grinned back at him, and mimed towards the breakfast on their plates, pointing at it and then thrusting her hands to her throat as if she was choking. Adam laughed a hearty laugh, causing Delia to call out "What's so funny?" from the kitchen. Barbra tried to hide a smile as she poked at the few edible parts of the breakfast.
Adam left the table a while later to go work on his model. There was a new supermarket down the street from the cemetery that he needed to build, and there was not a moment to lose. Barbra chuckled, and left a few minutes later to go read, leaving Lydia to leave last.
She departed to her room, and knelt down in front of her dresser to choose an outfit. She decided on black and white plaid shorts and a light button down shirt. It was far too warm outside on this June morning for anything more. She slid out of her cotton nightgown, letting the light material drop to the floor around her feet. Lydia pulled her feet from the slippers and set them on the freezing floor. She slid her legs into the shorts and pulled them around her hips. They hugged her slightly. Then, she slipped the shirt over her shoulders and buttoned the black buttons, the short sleeves allowing a breeze to glide over her flesh.
Lydia walked over to her closet and rooted around until she found her wide brimmed hat with the mesh fabric to cover her pale face. She tossed this down on her bed and grabbed socks from the drawer of her dresser. As she pulled the white fabric over her thin, nearly equally as white feet, a chill went through the room. This was a normal sensation, living in a house with two ghosts, so she simply brushed it off. Nothing to worry about. Nothing at all.
. . .
True, there was nothing to worry about. However, if Lydia had lifted her gaze to the mirror of her vanity, she would have seen the ghoul as he peered at her from behind the reflective glass, his forehead pressed up to the surface, and his hand supporting him in this position.
Beetlejuice looked at her as she slipped her socks onto her feet, and thought to himself, Damn, she's looking good... He had been waiting for her to say those three little words since he had found his way back to the Deetz/Maitland household. He stood up straight behind the mirror and rolled his head so that his neck cracked in obnoxious pops. He scratched the base of his skull, remembering how it had been shrunken shortly after his second death.
Snapping back to reality, he looked back at Lydia. She had graced her feet with a pair of shiny saddle shoes, the rimmed hat now sitting on top of her pretty little head. He watched as she grabbed for her camera that hung by the neck strap on her bedpost. She draped the camera around her neck. Beetlejuice knew that this meant that she would be leaving to take pictures... and she probably wouldn't be back all day.
Lydia turned toward the vanity mirror, and Beetlejuice automatically hid himself. He wanted her to see him, but he could not let her just yet... she needed to call on him in order to receive that privilege.
She left the room, switching off the light as she did so, and leaving him to his solitude. Beetlejuice was now free to do as he pleased. He waited a minute, glanced around the room to make sure that he truly was alone, and snapped his fingers, bringing forth an old playboy, courtesy of the locked drawer of Charles Deetz's desk. He plastered his face to the magazine and "read" to occupy is newly acquired time.
This entertained him for a while, maybe an hour. He soon grew very bored with the ladies in the magazine. Playing along with the regular expectation of his actions, he tossed the tattered paper book down on the floor like the common trash it is. Nothing more than trashy women in trashy clothes... or lack of clothes... he chuckled to himself at the joke he had made, and snapped his fingers to replace the magazine into its regular resting place.
He began to search for more entertainment. He floated lazily through pictures on the walls of the Deetz/Maitland household, and disturbed their contents, moving the people in the pictures into different poses. These being immature, juvenile acts, he loved them. Beetlejuice laughed as he thought of the reactions of the Deetz's and the Maitland's as they passed their newly rearranged photos. How disgusted they would be!
Soon enough, after tampering with nearly every picture in the house, the gag lost its luster. It seemed that nothing could keep him entertained! Nothing, that is, other than Lydia... but she wouldn't be back for hours and he knew it. Gotta be a big boy, Beetlejuice, he thought to himself, time to figure out what floats your boat. On the event of making this comment in his mind, he began to levitate slowly, and turned upside down without even noticing that he had left the floor.
Beetlejuice thought for a moment, still upside down, and then floated from the picture that he stood in until he reached a photograph of a snowy owl in Charles' study. He peered from the photo into the study, and saw Charles himself sitting at his desk, being a little too invested in his bird book. Seeing this, Beetlejuice grew suspicious, and took notice of the family photo that hung behind Charles as he sat at his desk.
As he slid from picture to picture, he saw that his suspicions were, indeed, just. Charles Deetz sat at his desk, legs up, concealing a playboy magazine behind his bird book. Ha! Gawked Beetlejuice, Dirty bastard! I knew he was more than an idiot... Beetlejuice smirked a half of a grin and continued his thought he's a perverted idiot.
He suddenly got a simply wonderful idea. He sunk from the family photo, now featuring an upside down Delia, and took over on the next page of the playboy, taking hold of a half naked woman's body, and prepared to fulfill his plan...
Charles turned the page, and stared at the peculiar woman that was printed on the shiny magazine. Beetlejuice felt his accusing eyes on his new body, and then decided to commit his act.
"Hey Chuck! Long time no see!" Beetlejuice called in his gritty voice, "Sheesh, man! I knew you were off but I didn't know you felt human urges!" he laughed loudly, throwing his head back to assure that this laugh echoed as much as possible. Charles stared at the page, absolutely horrified by what he saw. Beetlejuice continued, driving Charles nearly mad. "I barely even feel 'em," he said, and then stared down at his pelvis. "Scratch that. Now, I see you got quite the, er, collection, there! This doesn't exactly shock me, I mean, no one can be as dumb as you and not have some sick, perverted, dark side. I'm prouda you!" he called, the words pouring fluidly out of his mouth, filling Charles with disgust, reminding him of how he had nearly died at the hands, or, tail, of this ghoul. He snapped the magazine closed and ran from his study, leaving Beetlejuice to laugh hysterically.
Beetlejuice wiped tears from his eyes, as his laughing subsided. The pain in his stomach from convulsive laughter caused him to grip at his abdomen and lay there, on the floor of the magazine, for a while. Charles pounded back into his study, dragging Delia behind him.
"Delia, I am not crazy! Come on, come look!" he cried in exasperation. He lunged for the magazine as Beetlejuice slid quickly from it back to the picture of the snowy owl. Charles thrust the magazine open and shoved it in Delia's face. "See! See!?" Charles bellowed "It's him! It's that Beetle guy!"
Delia stared at the picture for a moment and let out a cry.
"You do see! You see it!" Charles cried.
Delia backed away, a look of horror and disgust on her face. "Oh, I see it. I see it, Charles. I see that obviously I'm not good enough for you!" she said in disgust. "Am I so horrible that you have to read this... this... smut!?"
Charles saw that, obviously, this situation was not working out in his favor. "No, Delia-" he said quickly.
Delia let out a cry of dismay. She flung herself out of the room and down the hall, heels clicking rapidly against the wood, as Charles dashed after her, calling for her and begging to explain.
Beetlejuice rolled on his back, laughing in ridiculous bursts. He heard Delia yelling from their bedroom about trust and romance and boring stuff like that. This made him laugh even more. However, as he settled into the gentle hum of energy, he realized that he wanted a little more than just kicks...
I wonder when Lydia will be back... he thought softly to himself.
. . .
Lydia rode her bike through town, stopping occasionally to take pictures of buildings. She had been gone for nearly four hours when she reached the winter river bridge. She wondered where the time had gone. The ride from her home to the bridge was barely fifteen minutes, but she had managed to burn the time away like it was nothing. She turned around and began to ride her bike back home.
A swift breeze caught her, and she had to struggle to keep her hat on her head. She flew past shops and stores, passing by the building that once was the Maitland's shop. She continued on her way, going down the windy road that lead to her secluded home. Her bike ran over stones and leaves as the foliage grew more frequent, and the civilization was farther away. Finally, she was at the end of the driveway to her house. As she rode closer to her home, she sensed that something had changed since she had left... something big had happened, and she didn't know what.
Upon arriving, she dropped her bike near the garage, and climbed the steps to the door. The feeling of chaos from within the looming structure intensified as she approached the door. She didn't know what to expect when she entered... but she knew that anything was possible... she turned the door knob and walked slowly into the entryway. Everything seemed relatively normal, Delia was yelling at Charles for some reason, which was a regular occurrence. Adam and Barbra were minding their own business, careful not to get involved in the one sided fight. Still, Lydia felt this sick feeling in the pit of her stomach... like something was going to happen... good or bad, she did not know.
There was a presence in this home... a presence that was only partially unfamiliar, that which could be compared to an elderly person returning to the town they had grown up in after years of not seeing it. The presence had been there before... her memory pointed to that one ghost... pointed to Beetlejuice. However, that could not be possible. He had left nearly four years ago, swallowed by the sand-worm that Barbra had brought fresh from Saturn. He was gone...
Maybe he isn't, she thought hopefully.
She rushed upstairs to her bedroom, and stripped her camera from her sweaty neck, the sweat had started to dry upon making the transition from the early summer heat, to the cool air conditioning of her home. If it was true, if her premonition was correct, and Beetlejuice had returned, then she needed to be ready. Ready for what? She thought in realization. She had no idea what she was preparing for, but she went with her feeling and prepared for the unknown.
Lydia peeled her dirty clothes from her skin, fetched a towel from her closet, and wrapped it around her body. She practically ran to the bathroom, and turned on the shower, steam pouring almost as fluidly as the water itself. Stepping into the hot shower, she felt the heat increase. The steam filled her lungs as she cleaned herself, washing her long black hair, and rinsing dirt from her shins.
She still could not decipher what she was readying herself for.
. . .
` Beetlejuice had dozed off shortly after settling from his raving laughter. However, when he heard Lydia come back in the house, he awoke instantly, dashing to her room by skipping from picture to picture to mirror. He beat her to her room, and arrived just as she opened the door. She moved in haste, practically tearing her clothing from her body. Normally, he would have looked in on her without hesitation as she stripped. He would have gawked maliciously, with heavy intent behind the act, but, strangely, he refrained. He looked away as she pulled her clothes off, and did not look back until he heard her leave.
He wondered where this sudden control had come from, for it completely surprised him. He had never resisted staring at a woman as she undressed before. There was a peculiar feeling looming over him, a sensation that was utterly new. It was a deep, empty feeling in his chest whenever he saw Lydia. It made him feel... stupid. There was no other word he could think of to describe what he felt.
C'mon, Beetlejuice! You are losing your game! Just do it, give her a lil' peek, he thought menacingly. He traveled through the next couple rooms, passing through Charles' and Delia's, and being scarred by what he was them doing. Obviously, they had made up. He arrived at the bathroom moments later, sitting himself in a photograph of a hydrangea, and saw that Lydia was just turning on the shower, her fuzzy purple towel wrapped tightly around her bust. A cry came from the bedroom of Mr. and Mrs. Deetz, and Lydia sneered with revulsion.
Steam began to pour from the shower, and Lydia took this as a sign to enter. Beetlejuice stared, eyes open as wide as possible, as she slowly undid the secure looping that held the towel around her body. She removed her hands.
He couldn't do it. He flinched away from the sight at the very last second, feeling disgusted with himself for even thinking of tainting her body with his eyes. He fled from the picture he had settled in, and ran all the way back to her room in a matter of three seconds, nestling himself in the vanity mirror.
What's wrong with you, Beetlejuice!? His mind raved, she's just a girl! She ain't special or nothing! However, for some odd reason, what his head was telling him was not how he felt. He'd never felt this feeling before... the sensation in his chest raged on even further, so that he felt almost as if he had a beating heart... almost, not quite.
Beetlejuice pounded his fist on his chest to try and stop the feeling. It was so foreign, so... awkward. What it was, he did not know. What the cause was, he could not say... though, he thought it very peculiar that it only happened when he saw Lydia. Or thought of Lydia. Or spoke her name.
He thought for a few minutes, trying to diagnose his ailment. He had gotten a step closer to nowhere, when Lydia, dripping wet from head to toe, stepped daintily into the room. Instantly, he concealed himself from her view.
The smell of her was completely overwhelming. It was a sweet, tantalizing scent that drove his senses mad. She swept her soaking hair to the side, sending another gust of that odor in his direction.
Trying to steady the feeling in his chest, Beetlejuice took deep, unnecessary breathes. Unfortunately, not even this helped to make the feeling die, and the sound caused Lydia to look around her room in search of some hidden person.
"Barbra? Adam? Is that you guys?" she called "Look, I know you're just searching for some fun, but you know I'm not easily scared. Drop the act."
Beetlejuice froze at the sound of her voice. It was so dark, with light undertones of loving humor. He didn't know why, but hearing her voice made the sensation in his chest constrict him, even more so than before, making him feel like an empty building that was slowly imploding. Lydia. She was the reason he felt this way... but how, exactly, is it that he felt? There seemed to be no answer to this question.
. . .
Lydia headed her way back to her quarters after she had washed herself. She still had that looming feeling that something was amiss, even as she stepped into her room. She flicked on the light, and pushed her hair to the side, and out of nowhere, sharp heaving gasps arose from an undetermined location the room.
"Barbra? Adam? Is that you guys?" she hollered out to nowhere in particular "Look, I know you're just searching for some fun, but you know I'm not easily scared. Drop the act."
The breathing stopped as suddenly as it had started.
After waiting a minute or two to assure herself that they had left, she pulled her towel from her body. She wrapped it around her sopping wet hair, and rubbed it around to allow it to absorb some of the collected moisture from her shower. She went to her dresser and fetched a clean bra and underwear from the top drawer. She slid the undergarments onto her body, hooking the bra in the back, and adjusting the straps to fit her properly.
She strolled lightly over to her closet, tossed the door open, and peered inside. There were many interesting outfits, but she needed something special. She pushed aside all of the regular, everyday clothes, and dug into the farthest corner of the closet, where she kept her dresses.
Sifting through the gowns and cocktail dresses, she finally found something suitable. A beautiful, red crushed velvet skirt that waved around her feet with every step, and a black corset with red pin stripes. Lydia slid into the skirt and pulled it up around her waist where it actually fit. She pulled the corset up around her, and laced it so that it was nice and snug.
She stepped gracefully to her vanity, and sat down in front of it. Taking up a brush in her hands, she drug it through her hair, brushing her bangs into a squared off fashion, and leaving it silky and shiny. She rooted through a small glass jewelery box, and pulled a long red ribbon from it. Deciding finally what she would do with her hair, she gathered the black strands in one hand, and formed it into a bump. She tied it all up with the red ribbon, creating a flawless bun to top off the ensemble.
Lydia looked in the mirror and smiled halfheartedly.
. . .
"She looks... amazing..." Beetlejuice mumbled, catching himself just before he had said too much. He'd never thought this way about a woman. He always thought of them as toys and not real people... but, this... this moment changed his distorted thoughts.
When Lydia had removed her towel, he immediately looked away. Something just did not feel right about looking at her without her knowing. At least, when she was getting dressed. He had averted his eyes until he heard her sit down at the vanity. It simply did not seem probable that she would be sitting there naked. Chances were that she was fully clothed and doing her hair.
He was right. She was brushing her glossy black hair, taming it from its frizzy, partially dry state. When she pulled her hair up into that bun, she looked like a princess of the night. Sheer perfection. His thoughts raved. Wow, just wow. She has really grown up. I can't even believe that this is that same girl. She's beaut-
Beetlejuice cut his thoughts short. What are you thinking!? His mind bellowed, completely repulsed by the tender thoughts he had been producing. You are losing your stones! Knock it off with the lovey-dovey shit and get your head in the game, for God's sake!
There was nothing that could make him feel worse than himself. His very own accusing thoughts had broken down his happiness. He felt hatred for that feeling in his chest. He felt hatred for his sweet thoughts. But, mostly, he felt hatred for himself.
He shook his head violently in an effort to clear it, and when he turned his attention back to Lydia, he saw something completely horrifying.
When he had fled from the mirror, he had hidden himself in a picture of Charles and Lydia when she was just a little girl. She was just standing there, staring at the picture he had placed himself in. They made eye contact, a most tense action on both parts. Beetlejuice himself was mortified. He'd failed to hide himself properly. His mind worked to find a solution to this most unfortunate problem, and he came up with nothing.
It seemed that there was no hope of escape. He had blown his cover.
In the spur of the moment, he began to act without thinking. He waited for Lydia to blink, and he quickly snapped his way from the picture of Charles and Lydia, to the vanity mirror, just before Lydia worked through her initial shock enough to reach for the picture to execute a more thorough investigation.
He sighed as he leaned against the frame of the mirror.
. . .
She walked around her room, trying to figure out how to walk properly in this outfit. It truly was a troubling task. She walked around towards her bedside table, and what she saw she simply could not comprehend.
It was Beetlejuice.
He was standing just behind her in the photograph of her and her father at her sixth birthday celebration.
Lydia was only able to stand there. She knew that she was right, Beetlejuice was the cause of the odd feeling in her home. When she was finally able to get a hold of herself, she practically lunged at the picture, but when she pulled it towards her, he was gone.
"What?" Lydia whispered in shock "He... he was right there..." she managed to sputter.
She sat down on her bed, still holding the picture. She was going crazy thinking about this ghoul. Stroking the photograph gently with her thumb, she took in a trembling breath of defeat. She was going to call on him tonight. Maybe he would come, and maybe he would not. Either way, it was worth a shot. Anything to end this madness.
She slowly set the picture back in its rightful place on top of her bedside table, and straightened her back slowly as she inhaled through her nose, pushing her chest out to keep the boning of her corset from jabbing her breasts.
It was decided. She would call for him tonight.
. . .
He saw the look of frustration on her face. The absolute and total distress in her manor. Is she all upset because of... me? Beetlejuice thought, surprised by this. No, it can't be. She thinks I'm a monster... 'the ghost with the most...' he chuckled at this thought, but there was something in him that felt hurt by the possibility that he could be this in her view. For some reason, he actually cared about what she thought.
As he realized this curious fact, he was hit with a dose of shock immediately. Care was not exactly his cup of tea. He'd always just done what he wanted and nothing else. In fact, he'd even tried to earn people's disapproval, feeding on the disgust and horror he inflicted in the living, but there was something about her... something about Lydia that changed that.
Suddenly, the deep, empty feeling in his chest became more prominent. He had the explosive urge to make his presence known, to point himself out to her so that maybe, just maybe, she'd call upon him. But, he reminisced sadly, she'd probably just freak out and run... after how I treated her, that's all I deserve.
Admitting defeat, he floated through the ceiling and up to the attic, where he concealed himself in an old photograph of an open field. He lay there, entangled in the tall grass, and shut his eyes.
Beetlejuice fell into a blissful sleep.
. . .
"Lydia!" Delia cried once again in that irritating voice, "Supper time!"
The young lady stood up from her bed, and adjusted the crushed velvet skirt so that it was nice and even all around. She slid her house slippers onto her feet, and made her way through the hallway, and down the stairs.
She reached the kitchen after Charles had, he was already seated in his chair at the end of the table, reading the paper. A delivery man stood in the kitchen as Delia fumbled clumsily with her wallet, and a large bag of Chinese food stood on the dining room table. Adam and Barbra glided into the dining room from the side doors, and seated themselves at the table, almost completely in synchronized order, breaking only when Adam chivalrously pulled out the chair for Barbra.
As Lydia stepped into the dining room, Charles lowered his paper, and was baffled by what he saw. "Lydia! Why, you look beautiful!" he said.
Her cheeks blushed red, and she quietly thanked her father.
"Well," Delia said as she sat at the table, "I think that it's a little inappropriate. Lydia, dear, corsets are so 1800's! You and I should go shopping and I'll show you real modern fashion!" she spoke arrogantly, stroking her triangularly shaped dress with her shiny plastic gloves.
Lydia rolled her eyes "Yeah, Delia, we'll totally do that." she said, the comment dripping with sarcasm "and later, you can show me how to style my hair, and paint my nails! Oh, goody!" she said in a sour tone.
Delia caught on to the joke, and sat down, looking rather like a popular girl in a high school, too cool for everyone else. She didn't take kindly to ridicule.
Adam and Barbra dispersed the food onto plates, accompanied by chop sticks and a fortune cookie, and passed it to each occupant of the table. After this task was complete, Adam turned toward Lydia.
"So," he said, placing his hand under his chin and leaning his elbow on the table "What are you dressed up for anyway, Lydia?" he questioned, a friendly smile gracing his lips.
Lydia thought quickly, trying to think of a believable answer.
"No reason, really." she said "I just felt like looking nice."
It was a weak response, but it was the best she could think of. It was not as if she could just right out tell the whole family that she was attempting to summon a ghost that night. That would not sit well with any of them, and frankly, it did not sit very well with her either.
Adam seemed apprehensive at first, questioning further, but Barbra came in and saved Lydia's plans from being found out. "Adam, dear," she said "It's a girl thing. Sometimes girls just want to look nice." at that, Adam let go and continued to eat his dinner.
Lydia finished her dinner, and put the plate aside. Snatching the fortune cookie from beside her, she snapped it open and began to eat the sweet cookie. She flattened the slightly bent paper of the fortune, and read it silently to herself.
This coming month shall bring winds of change into your life.
This sent her deep into thought, as she contemplated the possible results to her plan. There were too many to count. There were a few positive endings to this whole situation, but there were many more destructive outcomes. This being the reality of the situation, she needed to accept it, for one can not tamper with reality...
Chapter 2
The Summons
After dinner, Lydia washed her dishes and excused herself to turn in early. She justified this action with the fact that she had spent the whole day out, and they pardoned her without question. She worked her way up to her room, bunching her beautiful skirt in her hands to prevent her falling. In a single fluid movement, she opened the door to her bedroom, stepped inside, shut it and locked it. She was filled with anxiety, but she knew that she needed to wait until everyone was in bed.
Minutes turned into hours too slowly for her liking. After the most agonizing wait of her life, it was 11:00 PM, and she was certain that her family was asleep. She set candles on the floor and lit them, making them the only source of illumination other than that of the moon and stars. A gentle, smoky scent filled the room instantly as she lit the final candle. She sat in the center of the circle of candles, her legs splayed in one direction under her skirt. Finally, it was time.
Lydia inhaled deeply, taking in the dark scent of smoke, as she readied herself. She shut her eyes and felt her chest rise and fall as it hit her chin.
She kept her voice at a whisper, and went on with the summons.
"Beetlejuice... Beetlejuice..." she whispered "Beetlejuice."
. . .
Beetlejuice was awoken by the the sound of his name. Only seconds later, he heard the second calling, and finally the third. "What the-?" he screamed in horror as his body grew transparent, and he was thrown into a spiraling tunnel of madness. He plummeted farther down in the tunnel, and finally hit the hard floor.
. . .
It happened so fast. As she called his name the third time, the flames of the candles flared nearly two feet high, and then were extinguished completely. Suddenly, a large portal like mass formed in midair just ahead of her, and a striped form fell from its mouth, hitting the floor with a muffled thud. The thing lie there, quivering on the floor, as it regained its composure and raised itself from the ground.
Not itself... himself.
It had worked, here he was, standing in front of her, clear as day.
Lydia stared up at him from where she knelt on the hard wood floor of her bedroom.
Beetlejuice, the ghost with the most, stared, baffled, down at her, a look of utter longing graced his pale face.
"My... my name is-" she sputtered.
He cut her short, still maintaining that tense eye contact that they shared, "Lydia... Lydia Deetz." he spoke, his voice filling her with an amazing feeling, unlike any she had ever felt before. "How could I forget?"
She stood, gracefully as she could, as he stepped into the circle of candles she had formed on the floor. He shoved his hands in his pockets, and bent over slightly, so that his face was directly at the height of hers. He tilted his face in the most curious way, and this simple action caused her cheeks to blush red. Seeing this, he straightened his back uncomfortably and continued speaking "And, I see that you remember mine... heh..."
She blinked for the first time in what felt like eons, and murmured with as much confidence as she could muster, "Yes. Yes, I remembered." She took a faint step closer to him, closing a little bit more of the space that separated them. He still wore his striped suit, heavily wrinkled at the crooks of his elbows, and his knees. His tie was loosened beneath his messy collar, and his pale skin nearly blended with the white of the stripes. He pulled his hands out of his pockets, and thrust them to his tie as she took that small step, tightening it a little bit, and then clasping his hands behind his tense back. He pulled his lips in between his teeth, and released them a moment after, taking a small step even closer to her.
Lydia lifted her hand weakly, meaning to touch his face, but instead pulled it back at the last moment, grazing her lips with her own fingernails. She lifted her face even higher, to reinforce the gaze that they shared, and make it even more intense and passionate. She had drawn a rather persistent blank.
. . .
He lifted himself off of the floor, shuddering and moaning in reaction to the fall. He stood up from his landing place, and tugged his sleeve out of his jacket, and raised his gaze the slightest bit upwards, which was met by an aghast Lydia Deetz. She was so beautiful that he could barely stand it.
She parted her lips to speak, her words coming out in short gasps "My... my name is-" was all she managed to get out before Beetlejuice completed her sentence.
"Lydia... Lydia Deetz. How could I forget?" his thoughts were brought briefly to this very girl standing in her living room in that beautiful red dress, and holding her hand as she looked horrified. "And I see you remembered mine...heh..." he managed to say through his embarrassment.
Lydia smirked the smallest bit, and confirmed the obvious. "Yes, yes I remembered."
Before Beetlejuice even realized it, the distance between them that had started around six feet had receded to maybe four, and he grew increasingly more self conscious, adjusting his tie, and straightening his posture. He felt so foreign in this new state of body and mind, somehow making him feel so wrong, but so very right at the same time. He'd been eagerly awaiting this moment for months. He wanted to treat her well, to make her feel good... to make her happy. For the first time in his questionably long afterlife, Beetlejuice actually cared about someone else's happiness.
After another lapse of distance over time, he was barely two feet away from her. He heard her deep breathing and saw the beautiful gleam in her dark eyes. She had the most innocent look on her flawless face, and it brought a, somewhat menacing, grin to his pale lips, making them part only the slightest distance.
Somehow, even while paying attention the their movement, Beetlejuice found Lydia and himself merely inches away from one another, so close that he could feel her breath on his exposed throat.
Chapter 3
Kiss and Tell
In an attempt to fill the silence that plagued the room, he dropped his jaw a bit, the devious grin never leaving his mouth, but before he could speak any words, Lydia thrust her dainty hands to his wrinkled tie, and pulled him down so that his cold, lifeless lips were pushed against hers. She was kissing him with a furious passion that drove him wild, causing him to wrap his arm around her torso, and expel the space that was remaining between their bodies.
She loosened his tie, and threw it to the floor when she managed to free his throat of it. They stumbled toward her bed, locked in an unbreakable embrace, knocking over some of the candles on the way, as she unbuttoned his shirt. They tumbled over, landing on the soft fabric of the blankets of her bed, and raved on. Lydia threw her head to the side, taking in heaving gasps of breath. He kissed her throat, and raised his mouth to her ear. He whispered deviously "So, I guess this means you missed me?"
She chuckled very lightly, causing her stomach to jerk Beetlejuice in his own stomach, bringing a new wave of energy to him. She turned her face back to his after consuming an acceptable amount of breath, and they continued with their reunion festivities. Lydia lifted her hand to the base of his skull, and pushed his lips further on to hers. He, in response, planted his hand firmly on the small of her back, and pulled her body closer to his. It seemed he could never close the gap between them, no matter how close they were, it was never close enough. Her lips were so enticing, drawing him closer, demanding more. Beetlejuice slid his hand softly up her back, feeling where the ties of the corset were held.
Her once neat hair was now down and in shambles. He drew his free hand up behind her head and knotted his hand in her satiny hair, beckoning her to force her lips even more roughly onto his.
Suddenly, he realized what he was doing, and pulled his hands off of her, supporting himself on his hands and knees, his legs spread and on either side of hers. She peered into his deep yellow eyes, a questioning look in her own, her face red from the heat that she generated in the unrestrained time they had spent.
Beetlejuice wanted to continue, he wanted to open her mouth with his, and whisper sweet secrets against the soft flesh of her neck. He desired more than anything to keep this energy going between them, and still he stopped. He removed the strain of his weight from his hands, and raised himself on to his knees, now straddling Lydia's legs. She propped herself up on her elbows, and stared at him, that look still in her eyes.
"Did... did I do something wrong?" she whispered after a few moments of dead silence.
Beetlejuice thrust his eyes to hers. "No. No. Nothing at all." he exhaled, though no air filled his lungs. "I just..." he stopped. In truth, he had no clue what he was thinking. He flopped over next to her on the bed, face down, and screamed into one of her fluffy pillows.
Lydia rolled over onto her own stomach, and placed her head on her crossed arms, peering straight forward into the headboard of her bed.
"I am sorry... for how I... greeted you. I guess I was just relieved to see you... I'm just so sorry." she planted her face down into the pillows. Beetlejuice shot his head up, and looked at her.
"No! It isn't you at all, Babes... It's just... Argh!" he cried in frustration, plunging his face once more into the pillows.
Lydia lifted her head once more, and placed it on her forearm. "Just what?" she whispered.
Beetlejuice responded without need of thought. "You just... You drive me crazy! I'm going frigging psycho thinking 'bout you, and I don't know why!" he bellowed. "Gah!"
He burrowed his face back into the pillows, and screamed in turmoil, the muffled noise traveling to Lydia's own ears. He finally realized what was happening here. Beetlejuice felt so torn, torn between who he really was, and who he wanted to be for Lydia.
. . .
Lydia stared at Beetlejuice in disbelief. He had just told her that he'd been thinking about her, and going just as crazy as her in the process. This news brought both, relief, and sadness for the state of the ghoul. He had once been filled with so much confidence, not caring what anybody thought, and not letting anybody tear him off of his high horse.
His new manner was both flattering, and saddening to Lydia. She couldn't stand to see him so horribly broken. It shattered her heart, making her eyes glaze with the slimmest amount of warm tears. She slid her hand against her eyes to clear the tears away. His suffering was her distress.
She grazed his cheek with her soft fingertips, making her way to his chin, where she then lifted his face to look at her. His eyes were sorrowful and miserable, yet, very much according to character, he did not cry. She slowly brought her face to his, and allowed her lips to softly touch his, skimming them with the most tender touch she could muster without losing control. Backing away a few inches so that she could actually look him in the eye, she smiled gently and looked at him with the utmost understanding and warmth. His gaze softened, and he leaned in and kissed her sweetly, responding to her own kiss.
Lydia knew that this was right. She was certain of it. Nothing had ever felt so right through her whole life. He was supposed to be here with her, laying there together, feeling in collaboration. She wondered if he felt the same perfect harmony at this moment.
She reached for his hand, and entangled her fingers in his own. He squeezed her hand gently in response, lowered his head and closed his eyes.
. . .
Beetlejuice closed his eyes and lay there for a few minutes. After those minutes of just listening to Lydia breathe, he opened his eyes so that he had the slightest sliver of sight. What he saw warmed his still, lifeless heart. He saw Lydia, laying on her side with her legs overlapping, and her one hand supporting her head.
Unable to control the urge, he extended is arm farther than humanly possible, to the other side of the full bed where she lay, wrapped it around her shapely body, and pulled her to him. He let his arm spiral around her a few times, like a boa constrictor to its prey, and nestled her head to his chest. She stirred some, but was in a deep enough sleep that these gentle and slowly done actions did not wake her. She let out a little gasp as he wrapped his arm around her torso a little tighter, a gasp that would not have been audible if not for the fact that they were so close. He used his other hand to hold her head to him, and he embraced her.
Beetlejuice breathed in the sweet smell of her hair. He was filled completely with bliss. This was perfect. Nothing had ever been so perfect in his whole afterlife, nor would anything else be as perfect. Only Lydia. She was perfection in his eyes.
What are you thinking!? His mind chortled. She's just... a girl... but even as he thought these things, he knew that he would never believe them. She was more than just another hoe, much, much more than that.
She was everything...
. . .
Lydia shut her eyes moments after Beetlejuice did, but she did not fall asleep. She was awake the whole time. She felt Beetlejuice's arm creep along her body, and engulf her in the sweet, blissful clasp that they were now tangled in. The gasp that she had uttered was one of surprise as he clenched her body gently with his ghostly arm. Quickly. She regained her composure and proceeded with her act of sleeping.
As he pulled her in, she curled in towards him. His body was cold, but far from lifeless. He moved slowly, attempting not to wake her from her "sleep," and maneuvered both his, and her bodies to fit together like puzzle pieces, her head fitting under his chin perfectly, and their legs tangling together in the most serene position.
She was unsure whether she should do something or not. Should she say something? Should she kiss him? Oh, she wanted to kiss him. However, despite the urge to take action, she was still petrified in a blissful shock, the palms of her hands pushed up to his chest, transferring the heat of her nervous body to his own dead flesh. His skin smelled musty, but far from unpleasant. It was enticing, drawing her in closer to him so that there was not an inch of space anywhere between them.
This is what she had been longing for since she had met him. This was perfect.
Chapter 4
A Rude Awakening
"Lydia?" Barbra called moments after knocking on the door, rousing Beetlejuice from the calm sleep he had been in. he heard Barbra knock even harder and call for Lydia once more, and he realized the predicament he was in.
Lydia woke from her sleep, and rubbed her hand across her eyes. Beetlejuice looked at her, horror crossing his face, and he whispered "Babes..." Barbra began to open the door, and Beetlejuice grabbed Lydia by the shoulders, kissed her forcefully, and then he was gone.
. . .
Lydia stared at the place where Beetlejuice had been, even after Barbra was fully in the room. She was utterly shocked by what had just happened, and wondered where he possibly could have gone. She still felt him on her lips, the cool sensation of his lips on hers.
"Dear?" Barbra said, looking at the obviously disoriented girl.
"Huh?" was all Lydia could muster, for she was still shocked by his hasty farewell.
Barbra approached Lydia as she lay on her side, her weight focused on her forearm that held her up, and put her ghostly hand on the tense shoulder of the young girl. "Are... are you all right?" she said in a light voice, concern dripping from the words.
Lydia flipped onto her back, still propping herself up on her elbows, and smiled shakily up at Barbra. "Yeah..." she said "I'm fine. Just another nightmare is all." she sat up straight in her bed, stretched her arms up, and realized that her corset was untied and ready to fall off. She blushed as she pulled her arms to her chest and held the corset there, thinking of Beetlejuice's cold hands on her back as he untied the laces of the corset.
Barbra chuckled, now at the door of Lydia's bedroom. "You're so enthusiastic about your nightmares, Lydia." she chortled "I'll leave you to sleep some more. I just wanted to check up on you. You seemed a bit off last night at dinner." at that, Barbra shut the door and left Lydia to her solitude.
She looked around her room, and saw the candles that scattered the floor, wax melted to the hard wood. Last night had been so amazing, she wondered if it had all been a dream. But seeing the candles, and the indentation of Beetlejuice's head on her pillow was enough proof to confirm to her that this was far from a dream. It was the sweetest reality she could have imagined.
But, where is he now? She thought as she lay back down. Where could he possibly have gone so quickly? But then she remembered, he's the Ghost With the Most. Where could he not have gone?
. . .
What Lydia didn't know, was that Beetlejuice couldn't think of where he'd go. No where in the whole world, or even the Neitherworld, could possibly be as good as where he had been with Lydia. So, instead of blasting off to some odd corner of the Neitherworld, he simply shot to a much closer corner, that of the ceiling of Lydia's bedroom, and stuck there like an invisible spider, clinging so that he could see what went on.
He saw how the corset nearly fell off of her, inches away from exposing her. A tense knot formed in his stomach, and then was relieved when she caught the top and held it to her.
Barbra left shortly after entering, and shut the door. Beetlejuice saw Lydia lay down slowly on her side and peer directly where he wished he was. She sighed in wonder, and shut her eyes, a deflated look to her whole person.
The mere sight of Lydia's distress made that feeling in his chest return, fluttering angrily. He waited a moment, clutching his chest, and lowered himself back onto Lydia's bed, becoming increasingly more visible as he did so. He finally rested himself down, and set his hand on Lydia's side. Her eyes opened, and widened with exhilaration as she registered who it was sitting before her. Suddenly, she thrust her arms around his neck, and buried her face into his shoulder.
Surprise overtook him. How was it that she could be so relieved to see him?
He placed his hands on her shoulders and peeled her from him, making her hands fall from his shoulders to his thighs, which practically straddled her own. He looked her in the eyes, and parted his lips to speak, but losing the words as he saw how amazing she looked, tousled from their exciting night. She was beautiful, and had a sexy sort of class to her. He swallowed as her dark eyes stared into his own yellowed eyes.
He searched through his mind to think of what he could say to her. Nothing seemed appropriate, but unable to control his urge to speak to her, he blurted out the first thing he could grasp.
"How old are you, Lydia?"
Lydia blushed and cast her eyes to the side. She pulled her shoulders in to hold her corset up.
"I'm 18." she said matter-of-factually.
Simply hearing her voice made him melt. However, a problem forced its way to his attention...
He was hundreds of years older than her.
He through his head back and closed his eyes, uttering an irritated moan. "Shit." he said to the ceiling. He rolled his head back around to look at Lydia, an embarrassed and slightly hurt expression on her face.
"Does this mean that you're leaving?" she said, sounding small.
He looked at her, his gaze not leaving her pale face. He did not know if he could even bear to leave. He was completely silent for what seemed like forever.
He placed his hand under her chin and lifted her face to look at his. "I couldn't if I tried..." he whispered, a crooked, sheepish smile on his face. He saw instant relief in her expression, and her shoulders dropped slightly, but her arms still clung tightly to her sides. He brushed a stray strand of her hair behind her ear awkwardly, and simply looked at her. She was so much softer in personality than she had been four years ago when they had met. He remembered how she told him of her dreams...
"I need to get out, 'cause this whole death thing... It's just too creepy." He had said through a mouthful of roach.
He remembered the longing in her expression. "I'm trying to get in..."
Beetlejuice looked at her ow, three years later, as those words repeated over and over in his head.
I'm trying to get in...
I'm trying to get in...
I'm trying to get in...
Chapter 5
The Neitherworld
Lydia made her way downstairs, Beetlejuice still concealed in her room. He had been with her for nearly a week now, and she loved every second of it. They kissed every night, and slept closely together after.
As she walked down the stairs, she saw the walls of her home, completely stripped of photographs. She brushed the odd change off, and strolled into the dining room, where her father sat reading his paper.
"Hello, pumpkin." he said as he heard her come into the room.
"Hi Dad." she said casually. "I'm going out today, if that is okay with you."
Charles peered out from behind the paper in surprise. "My, Lydia! Five days in a row now you're going out! This is great! Finally discovering the great outdoors I told you about?"
Lydia half smiled. "Sure, Dad. That is exactly what's going on." she said sarcastically.
They laughed together, and Charles set down his paper.
"Okay, Lydia. Just be careful out there." he said in a protective, fatherly tone.
Lydia beamed. "Thanks. I won't die, I promise." she joked, and then headed up to her room to prepare for the day.
Beetlejuice was waiting for her, laying on her bed. He smiled as she walked into the room and shut the door.
"Hey, Lyds. Got the a-okay?" he said.
"Sure did." she grinned. She got dressed, completely assured that he wasn't looking, and slid into a pair of black leather shorts and sliding a black university style half sleeve shirt with red stripes on the arms over her bra. When she was finished, she gave him the clear to look up. "Now, how do we get to this Neitherworld?"
Beetlejuice sat up and leaned his elbows on his knees, smiling devilishly. From this stance, he stood and disappeared from view, and popping back up behind her, wrapping his arms around her torso, and lowering his face to her head. He whispered into her ear eerily.
"Though I know I should be wary, still I venture someplace scary, ghostly hauntings I turn loose..."
"Beetlejuice, Beetlejuice, BEETLEJUICE!" Lydia hollered. Instantly, they were thrown into a spiraling portal, still holding onto each other. They dropped onto uneven ground.
What the hell did I just do? She thought.
. . .
Beetlejuice wrapped his arms around her soft body, and whispered the incantation into her ear, expecting to have to have her recite it on her own... but somehow, she had known what to do... Somehow, she had known to say his name...
When they hit the ground, he stood up and turned her around to face him, eyes wide in amazement.
"How did you know what to do?" he asked in a dumbfounded whisper.
She looked scared of what she'd done, the unfamiliar setting making her uncomfortable. "I... I don't even know..." she said. "I just felt like it was right."
He took a moment to process this feat, and gave up on trying to make sense of it all.
"Babes," he said, nearly whispering. "You never have ceased to blow me away, even when you were just a kid." he thought of her willingness to marry him just to save the Maitlands... she didn't even know what their fate would have been if Otho had successfully exorcised them... she said yes because she cared about them, she cared about ghosts that had been trying to scare her family off since the had moved in. That amazed him, but this, this power that she possessed... that is what really astounded him.
"BJ?" she said to him, looking at him with a questioning expression.
"Oh, uh, yeah... right." he said, trying to come back to reality. "Let's go. I'll show you my place."
he draped his arm around her shoulder, and lead her down the crooked road at a leisurely pace, letting her take in every sight.
"Wow!" he heard her gasp as she saw the Topsy-turvey buildings and the eccentric people.
He glanced happily at her smiling face, the dark circles under her eyes defining her pale skin even more in the light of the Neitherworld than that of the human world. He smiled a sideways smile and looked back to where he was walking. He saw the monster next door with his stupid mutt, and he saw the fruit salesman chanting out about how great his prices were, and in the distance, growing ever closer, he saw his home, BJ's ROADHOUSE flashing on the neon signs. He tapped Lydia's shoulder, and directed her sight to the roadhouse.
"There it is! Home-sweet-frigging-home." he said sarcastically, pursing his lips, but when he heard Lydia laughing at his remark, he was instantly softened. Sheepishly, he smiled. "Well, yeah... So, let's go, maybe we can skip out on an intro to my loser roommates."
Together, they hurried into the roadhouse, but were confronted by a man completely stripped of all flesh. He wore jogging shorts and an odd belly shirt, exposing his bottom ribs and the top of his pelvis. A small hat sat on top of his skull. Beetlejuice groaned in exasperation.
"Be-ateljuice!" the skeleton hollered, the thick French accent surprising Lydia.
Beetlejuice practically growled. "Hi, Jacques." he mumbled.
Jacques cocked his hip to the side, his hands sitting on the knobs of his pelvis that stuck up. "Are you not going to introduce me to your companion?"
Beetlejuice rolled his eyes at this, exhaling in an irritated manner. "Jacques, this is Ly-" he began, but was interrupted by his other neighbor.
"Oh, hi Beetlejuice!" Ginger the spider called as she tapped forward on her wonky legs, "Who's your friend?"
He let out a little yell of aggravation, and continued on with his introduction. "Jacques, Ginger, meet Lydia. Lydia, meet Jacques LaLean, and Ginger."
Ginger pursed her lips "Ginger what?"
Beetlejuice groaned yet again. "Ginger the Tap Dancing Spider." he recited, rather lacking in enthusiasm.
Ginger smiled, pleased with her title, and curtsied awkwardly, maintaining as much grace as she possibly could. "Nice to meet you, Lydia." she said in that high pitched accent that sounded oddly Boston.
Lydia smiled shyly, "It's nice to meet you too, Ginger, and you as well, Mr. LaLean." she said, first regarding the giant purple and pink spider, and then the skeleton.
Jacques smiled toothily, and took her hand in his own, bowed down and kissed it with that very same grin. Beetlejuice tensed up, a scowl of hatred on his face, but Jacques was not influenced. "Oh, no, Miss Lydia. No need for such formality! To you, I am Jacques."
Lydia smiled again, and nodded her head in acknowledgement. Beetlejuice fumed. He draped his tense arm over Lydia's shoulder once more. "All right, then. If that will be the last distraction," he said "then we'll just be going."
However, as Beetlejuice turned to face the roadhouse doors, a loud holler called from behind.
"BEETLEJUICE!" called the Monster Across the Street
Beetlejuice pulled his hair with both hands. Childly, he said "WHAAAAAT!?"
At the sound of the yells from across the street, Jacques and Ginger bid Lydia farewell, and dashed back into their homes.
A furry figure stepped forward from his yard, clad in cowboy boots and a matching hat, a belt draped around his midsection, and gloves on his slender hands."I gotta bone to pick wit' you!" the monster said, the metal buckles on his boots jingling with every wide step. Beetlejuice pushed Lydia behind him protectively, hiding her.
Beetlejuice turned to face him, aggravation gracing his face. "Why don't you yell at skelle-man over there? He's got plenty to spare!"
The monster loomed over Beetlejuice, his shadow engulfing the ghoul's whole body. "You been messin' wit' my dog, boy?" the monster yelled maliciously.
Snapping back instantly, Beetlejuice yelled "I ain't messed with your dog in over a week! I was in the living world, dummy!"
The monster ground his teeth a bit, "That must be why it was so dang QUIET!" he retorted, his voice gradually raising in volume, from a near whisper, to a yell so loud it blew Beetlejuice's hair back. However, after the monster said this, he looked at Beetlejuice with confusion on his lips, as there were no other features to him. "Why were you in the livin' world?"
Beetlejuice stretched his arm around behind him, and pulled the ever-so-short Lydia from where she stood out of view of the monster. He pulled her by the waist, and forced her up to him so that her front pressed to his side. He cocked his head to the side to indicate that he had been with Lydia during his time away.
The monster looked embarrassed. He tipped his hat off of his head and groped the rim of it. "Why, Miss, I'm sure sorry 'bout that... didn' mean to scare ya or nothin'..." he said sheepishly, shame trickling into his words slightly. His head was facing the ground, looking at his cowboy boots.
Lydia smiled awkwardly. "Oh, no, you didn't scare me."
As the monster was about to introduce himself, Beetlejuice intruded, tugging Lydia from the monster. "Look, I ain't got time for this. It's been grim, really, it has." and at that, Beetlejuice slammed the door of the roadhouse, and locked it behind him.
Chapter 6
Home Sweet Home
Lydia looked all around her. She examined the marvel of a place that was presented to her, the colors, the shapes, the scent, which was almost exactly how Beetlejuice himself smelled, and the decor. She'd never seen such an interesting place before. The furniture was disproportionate, and awkwardly shaped, much like the fireplace when Beetlejuice had tried to marry her that long time ago. Beetlejuice lazily reached his arm over her shoulder and left it there.
"Well," he said in his gravely voice "here it is..." he paused in thought.
Lydia looked at him, taking in the look of snide satisfaction at the very sight of his home, the half smile that graced his pale lips, and the crinkles near his eyes, all surrounded by the little patches of green mold that seemed to grow smaller each day. He turned his head and made eye contact with her, making her blush and turn her head.
He cackled lightly and continued.
"This is my place. How about you get yourself comfy and I'll pick out a movie to watch or something."
Beetlejuice strolled off lazily to examine a movie shelf he had that consisted heavily of films like The Rocky Horror Picture Show and crappy horror movies. He stood there for a minute or so, hunched over, and then straightened up and turned to Lydia.
"Or... ya know... we could just talk..." he said in a half mumble, as he stared at his feet.
Lydia bit her bottom lip slightly. Beetlejuice had been staying with her, andthey had talked, of course they had, but they had yet to discuss the past...
Beetlejuice sat down on his couch, and signaled Lydia to sit down next to him. She did just this, and he threw his arm over the back of the sofa so that his torso was facing her. He stared into her big, dark eyes, and lost the words. He didn't know what he could possibly say to her, and as his mind reeled, Lydia chimed in, relieving his brain of the pressure.
"What did you do all that time you were gone?"
This was an easy enough question. The answer was simple.
"Well, funny story. After Barb sank me with that s-sandworm, I ended up- get this- dead!" he cackled loudly enough that it echoed through the whole roadhouse, however it was not his normal spirited laughter, but more an anxious sort of cry.
Lydia looked confusedly at Beetlejuice.
"What?" he said
"Beej, you were already dead..."
He was suddenly very grave. His look was stone cold, and digging into her soul. "Do you know what happens to the dead when they die?"
She stared at him, peering directly into his eyes with an expression that read tell me. I'll listen.
He leaned in towards her so that his mouth was at her ear.