A/N: Not an original title, I know, may come up with something better.
Character's belong to Tim Burton
I own nothing
The hooded figure glided from shadow to shadow, seamlessly avoiding the flame-lit lanterns. His long dark cloak clung to the void around him making him near invisible to the night watchmen. Rats and beetles scattered before him, his heeled boots mercilessly crushing and crunching any pests in his path. He rounded a narrow corner and pulled himself close to the contours of the brick wall behind him and stood dead still as one of the clueless watchmen made his rounds. When the coast was clear the man knocked silently at the little wooden door. Without a warning the door opened just wide enough for him to enter, a slender pale hand gripped his wrist pulling him into the still darkness of the room.
Her raven hair glistened in the dim fire light and her eyes looked bigger and darker then he knew they were. Her pale skin appeared to glow eerily in the dim firelight, giving her the appearance of one who has recently departed. She was beautiful and Betelgeuse who had never had anything to call his own loved her.
"Elizabeth, my love" he croaked in a rough voice, shaking loose grave-dirt from his cloak as he removed the hood. "Do you pull all strange men into your home?" he asks coly.
"Betel" she admonishes, "You know that is not true, my door only opens for you." She smiled shyly but followed with a flirtatious wink.
"Come, sit by the fire" Elizabeth coaxes as Betelgeuse sheds his cloak and hangs it on a stand by the door. The cloak is made of rough wool dyed black and lined with ermine fur, producing a black and white striped effect. Not something Betelgeuse could have ever afforded to buy, it was given to him by an employer. The cloak had belonged to the son of a wealthy family; it was Betelgeuse's good fortune to be given the cloak upon the death of the son. It would keep him warm though the long, cold winter.
The fire was down to embers when he entered, the dark heavy window coverings hiding its light from the watchmen, but now the blaze roared anew. Betelgeuse drew close to the warm light hoping to vanquish the chill the night air had given him. He shivered even as the beautiful Elizabeth draped her arms around him, linking her fingers across his chest as she pushed against his back. He sighed with contentment as she rested her head on his shoulder and lightly brushed her lips to his cheek.
"My love, why have you come so late, the watch, they might have caught you." Elizabeth says, her voice filling with concern but a smile plays on her lips.
He met her wide, fearful eyes with a loving but stern look.
"They could never keep us apart," he says, turning and bringing his arms around her in a tight embrace. The way she nudges her head against his chest is endearing and makes his heart flutter.
Whenever she asks for his presence he comes to her, at all hours. An urchin had delivered to him a note mere hours ago telling him the exact time to be at Elizabeth's door. Betelgeuse was not a hard man to find, he had recently found steady work as a grave digger, after all people were always dying.
Betelgeuse didn't belong to any guild, or trade he was in what later years were known as a Jack. He wasn't particularly good at anyone thing but passable at many.
Pulling Elizabeth just a little bit closer, Betel said fondly, "I will always come, when you call."