AN: Sweet Mother of Abraham Lincoln! This chapter was 3,381 words! Excluding ANs. Also it bled over to 11 pages!!! Holy crap! One little thing before you get started. Yes, the last chapter ended with BJ's and Nights' partnership beginning, and this chapter starts with them 20 years dead. There really wasn't anything else to write about in regards to their life that wasn't covered in Consequences. Now read! Wait, thanks to Acelions for his review. Now read!! Wait, one other thing. The j in majik is pronounced the same as the j in bonjour. Now go read!!!

"I'm tellin' ya, mistah! This here box is the gen-ewe-whine artifact! This fancy little thing belonged to Cleopatra. Even saved her life once. No collection is complete without it. So whaddya say? We got ourselves a deal?"

The ghost looked at the little box in Nightshade's hand. It really was just a little blue box with curly silver lines. Nothing at all special about it. But she did say is belonged to Cleopatra. That was pretty neat.

The male ghost nodded and pulled out his wallet, handing over sixty dollars.

Nightshade happily exchanged the box for the money and waved as he walked away. "Pleasure doin' business with ya!"

Beetlejuice chuckled as he watched another swindled customer walk away. "Seriously, if you said the sky was green, these people would believe you."

The young blonde looked up at the Neitherworld sky and frowned. "Yeah, but in this place the sky really could turn green." Then she grinned at her partner and pulled out an identical blue box from one of the pockets of her trench coat. "But we're not tryin' to sell the sky."

"So who did that box belong to?"

"Dunno yet," she said, looking for her next sucker.

A green haired woman with an ice pick in the side of her neck caught Nights' attention.

However, she was unable to do anything because, suddenly, the ground started shaking. All the Neitherworld denizens, except Nights' and BJ, screamed and ran. Unnaturally soon, the pair found themselves alone in the middle of the street. Beetlejuice looked at Nightshade, brow quirked, and she just shrugged in response. Then, they nearly fell on their asses when the ground started shaking again, even more violently. After it stopped, a giant shadow loomed over them. Slowly, they turned around and were met with the face of a huge purple and grey striped . . . thing. It greeted them by opening its huge, teeth filled maw and roared at the two ghosts, causing their blond hair to be blown back. Nightshade and Beetlejuice stared at the creature. Next, they both screeched, spun around, and ran. It was all quite comical, actually.

The blond poltergeists ran and ran, taking sharp turns when they could, crashing into objects occasionally, but the creature still chased them.

They had just taken another turn when Nightshade found herself in Juno's office. She stopped, and Beetlejuice crashed into her, causing them to fall. Juno rolled her eyes as they disappeared from her sight in front of her desk.

"Get yer fat ass offa me!"

"Quit squirmin'!"

A very brief silence.

"What is that?"

"I'm a guy!"

"EW! GET OFF!"

Juno heard Beetlejuice yelp, and Nightshade crawled into one of the chairs. She hugged her knees to her chest and glared down at the male ghost. "And give me my hat!"

The case worker saw a black and white striped arm hold up Nights' black fedora. Nights grabbed her hat and put it back on her head.

Beetlejuice pulled himself up into the other chair and glared at Nights. "Ya didn't havta kick me."

"Oh, I so did have to kick you!"

"I told ya ta quit squirmin'!"

"You, sir, are disgusting."

"Are you two finished?" Juno snapped before Beetlejuice could say anything back.

When neither of them responded, Juno continued. "Well, it took twenty years, but you just had your first run in with a sandworm."

"Sandworm?" Nights echoed.

"Yes, sandworm. They like to eat ghosts. They love poltergeists. We think it has something to do with your powers. Anyway, I suggest you run for your goddamn afterlives as soon as one shows up. You don't want to get eaten. It's not a fun experience."

The unlucky (or lucky, depending on how one looks at it) poltergeists nodded, realizing just how close they were to being eaten.

"BJ BJ BJ BJ BEEEEEEJAAAAAAY!"

Beetlejuice stared at Nightshade bouncing in midair. She was acting like a little kid, her hands clasped in front of her chest, and her jade green eyes wide, and bright.

"What, Nights?"

"Guess what! There's going to be a ball! Every one hundred years, the Royals hold a ball! Can we go can we go can we go PA-LEEEEEEZZZZ?!"

BJ smirked. "You really want ta go?"

"Yes!"

"Fine, we'll go."

Nightshade squealed and threw her arms around his neck, giving him a quick peck on his cheek. "Thankyouthankyouthankyou!!!"

Three days later, they were waltzing at the ball.

Nightshade was wearing a dark green, sleeveless, full length dress of her own design, and Beetlejuice was in his usual outfit.

"BJ, the prince keeps staring at me."

"Nights, every guy in here who isn't gay is starin' at you. Actually, I think they're starin' at you, too."

The two quickly became the center of attention. Moving in perfect harmony, it was hard to see the pranksters and con artists they were. Of course, if anyone said that to their face, Beetlejuice would laugh, and Nightshade would deck them.

Soon, the current song ended, and Beetlejuice left to chase some skirt, leaving Nightshade alone.

But she wasn't alone for long. Prince Vince was soon at her side, bowing and asking for the next dance. Nightshade looked around her, not really sure what to do. So she nodded, and accepted his hand. He was a prince, after all.

"Beetlejuice is a lucky ghost to have someone as beautiful as you by his side," Vince told her as they danced.

Nightshade shrugged, saying, "Someone has to keep him in line."

"You must see something in him no one else does to be his lover."

Lover?! Nightshade broke away from the prince, slashing the air with her hands to emphasize her point.

"We are not lovers! Sure, there was that one time, but when a priest starts condemning you to Hell 'cause he thinks you're makin' out with your brother, it kinda ruins the mood, even if you are drunk!"

Vince gave her a very confused look. "But you two are partners."

"Business partners!"

"Inseparable business partners?"

"Look, we have a very-close-siblings-esque relationship. I love the guy, but not like that!"

"So you are not with him?"

"No, we are not together."

"Are you with anyone?"

"Nope."

Vince seemed to be thinking over her response.

"Would you be my princess?"

Nightshade's jaw dropped to the floor. Literally. She looked down at her floored jaw, and somehow managed to "Eep". Quickly bending down, she picked up her lower mandible, and reconnected it to it's upper half.

"Okay, that was awkward," she said, standing up and looking at the expectant Vince. Oh yeah, he had practically asked her to marry him. "Ummm, look, Vince." Hey, as far as she was concerned, they had reached a first-name basis relationship. "I'm a grifter, and a prankster. Not the right girl for you. Besides, you're not exactly my type. You're way too depressing. I'm sorry. I really am. But it just really wouldn't work out between us."

The prince slowly nodded. "I must respect you for your honest answer. It is a shame, though. You really are beautiful."

After he left her, Nightshade wiped the spit off her neck where her tongue had fell against it when her jaw decided to disconnect. Yeah, that had been really weird and awkward. Not just the jaw part. The entire encounter.

Nightshade slammed the door to her apartment closed and stomped into her bedroom. Her and B's latest prank had failed epically. They were going to shoot the Mayor with blue goop, but the gun had literally backfired, and covered the two blondes in said blue goop. Nights had glared at Beetlejuice, and he had grinned at her.

Her boots clacked against the tile of the bathroom.

"Why must you be so craptastic?" she demanded of her shower with a glare.

The shower in question was cramped, just barely tall enough for her, and the water pressure was low. It wasn't even a good color! Looked like burnt caramel. At least she had hot water, even if she had to wait a few minutes.

Turning on the water, Nights pulled off her goop covered clothes and dropped them to the floor in a pile.

"I will deal with you later," she told the pile. First, she needed to clean her hair before she had a panic attack.

The blood red scrunchie that held her ponytail was stuck. She yanked on it a few more times. Nope, it wasn't gonna move.

She glared at her reflection. Tried to, at least. the mirror had gotten steamed up so all she could see of her self was gold and bright blue for her hair, and a pale figure.

Sighing, she pointed at her scrunchie and it disappeared from her hair, only to pop back into existence on her pile of clothes.

At least if should have. She tilted her head, examining her silhouette in the fogged up mirror. Her hair hadn't spread out. Gingerly touching the back of her head, she realized the scrunchie had, indeed, vanished from her hair, but the goop had kept the ponytail intact.

"Oh, you are so going to pay for this, BJ," she growled, stepping into the shower.

She jerked the curtain closed behind her and sat down, resting her head on her knees. Nightshade smiled softly as the weak flow of hot water fell over her body, slowly washing away all the icky blue crap and whatever else dirt had gotten on her.

Reaching up, Nights grabbed her bottle of strawberry shampoo, and started the long process of cleaning her hip length hair. It usually took about fifteen minutes, and a quarter of the large bottle.

The blonde ran her hands through her hair to make sure all the suds and gunk had been washed out. Once she was satisfied with that, she put the shampoo back and got the body wash and washcloth.

Damn, she was going to have to stand up for this. Nights set the bottle of body wash on the floor of the shower, and put on of the corners of the washcloth between her teeth. Shifting her body so her feet were under her, she stood straight up, picking up the body wash.

She squeezed a glop of the matching strawberry scented gel onto the dark blue washcloth and rubbed it to lather it. Nightshade quickly ran the cloth over her pale body since the water was starting to lose its heat.

A lot happier now that she was clean, Nights got out of her still craptastic shower, and wrapped herself in one of the soft, white towels from the shelf.

Then she looked at the pile of clothes. Under normal circumstances, her blood red blouse would have been ruined. But Nightshade was a poltergeist. All she had to do was majik it.

Nights pointed a long, red nailed finger at the pile and zapped it with a bit of her power. The trench coat, blouse, pants, boots, and scrunchie were spotless. She realized a bit too late she should have worn her hat. Then her hair wouldn't have gotten so icky.

The blonde floated into her bedroom, and dropped down on her bed.

They hadn't had a successful con in five years. Everyone knew them. Even the pranks had been failing. She couldn't get out of this crappy apartment if they couldn't make any money from cons. Also, B kept getting in trouble, and bailing him out often included spending money.

As much as she hated the idea, Nights needed an honest job. But who the hell would hire her?

Sighing, she looked at the sketches that covered the walls of her bedroom. Most of them were complete outfits. She had a few that were either just shirts or pants. All of her designs would be mixed and matched, but some just worked better than others. Thus the completed outfits.

Nightshade had started designing clothes at the age of seventeen when she had finally gotten annoyed enough with the dull and boring fashions of 1300s England. Of course, her ideas back then were still largely based on the current fashions, but after she died, a whole new world of fashion design opened up.

She grinned as an idea to solve all her problems formed. Would people like her stuff? If they did, she could sell it.

There really was only one way to find out.

Nights jumped off her bed and threw open her closed door. Digging through various garments, she pulled out a pleated, dark blue mini skirt, and a cream colored pullover shirt. She loved the shirt. It had poofy long sleeves, and the sleeves and "neckline" lay a few inches below her collar bones, exposing her shoulders. She threw them on her bed and walked over to her dresser. There was only one problem with the shirt. It required to use of a strapless bra. Nights hated wearing those. Always felt like it was going to fall. But there was no way in hell she was gonna go braless. It felt awkward and she found it creepy and disturbing when other chicks did it.

Opening the top drawer, Nights sorted through her . . . unmentionables. The blonde had always found that term rather hilarious. No idea why. Maybe it was because whenever someone said "unmentionables" everybody immediately knew what you were mentioning.

Finally, she pulled out three bras. A light pink strapless, a red with clear straps, and a dark blue with lace straps. Now, she just had to figure out which to wear.

The pink wouldn't show, but she'd feel funny. The red would show, but at least the straps were clear. But since she wasn't going to cover her shoulders, she'd have shiny strips, and that was not sexy. This blue one, though. It would definitely show, but it matched the skirt, and the lace straps were fuckin' sexy. And to make it even better, this one had matching panties!

She dug through the drawer again to find said panties, and a pair of fishnet stockings caught her eye.

Literally.

"Goddamnit! May the Fae steal your babies from their cribs!" she yelled, untangling her right eye from the stocking. Oh, how she hated when shit like this happened. All she really had to do was subconsciously think of some pun or figure of speech and it would happen! She and B had termed it "The Curse of the Poltergeist".

After she had freed her eye and popped it back in her head, Nights pulled out the three items and put on the outfit.

Now, she needed boots. She walked back into the bathroom and picked up the pile of clothes and her boots. She went back into her bedroom, plopped down on the edge of the bed, dropped her clothes next to her, and pulled on her boots. At the moment, they were mid calf length. Nights wanted them longer. So she grabbed the tops, majiked them, and pulled them up to mid thigh. Much better!

"Time to take this sucker for a test drive!"

Three weeks later, Nightshade was ready to open her shop at the Shocking Mall.

Midnight Desires. She. Loved. It.

It wasn't that big, about thirty five by fifty feet, but she had majiked the back room to bend the space continuum for a place to keep the rest of her inventory. It was pretty sweet!

The place was lit with a soft golden glow, and all along the walls were drapes of dark gold, red, and black. A full length mirror hung between each drape. The clothes hung on various racks spread out on the floor.

Nightshade was at the back of her store, sitting at the long counter. She only had to wait five minutes to be officially open.

She had waited this long, another five minutes wasn't going to kill her. Besides, she was already dead.

After that damn near eternal wait of five minutes passed, Nights flicked her hand towards the door, unlocking it. Any second now, ghosts and monsters were gonna come rushin' in!

Any second now.

Any second . . .

. . . perhaps they didn't get the memo.

Nightshade's head dropped to the counter. This time, she just sighed in annoyance as her curse took effect. She'd reconnect her head when she had a customer.

A few minutes of her body drumming her fingers against the counter top, and her head just laying there passed before she heard the ting of the bell announcing the opening of the door.

Quickly, Nightshade grabbed her head, and jammed it back on her neck. Her huge grin turned into an annoyed frown when she saw who had walked in.

"Beetlejuice, what the hell are you doin'?"

The other blond poltergeist didn't say anything as she looked at various outfits. Nights watched him suspiciously while he walked through her store.

"I'd wear this," he said, examining a red tux.

"No, you'd steal it."

"Aw, Nights, I'm crushed!" His eyes widened as he realized what he said before a boulder appeared over his head, and fell to crush him.

Nightshade snickered and slipped off her stool to walk over to her crushed partner. She snapped her fingers, and the boulder disappeared. Beetlejuice groaned as he stood back up.

"Don't ya hate it when that happens?"

"Yup," Nights answered before she looked at the tux he was talking about before he got crushed.

It was on of her early designs. A dark red velvet jacket and pants, a red vest, and a cream ruffled shirt.

"You'd really wear that?"

"Nights, would I lie to you?"

"Yes."

"About somethin' like this?"

"Umm, no?"

"Alright, then."

"But you'd still steal it."

"Yeah."

Nightshade shook her head, smirking. She could either wait for him to "steal it", or she could just give it to him. It didn't cost that much to make, so it didn't bother her. Nights took it off the rack and handed the tux to Beetlejuice.

"Just take it. This way, I won't have to clean anythin' up when you decide to break in."

Finally!

Nightshade had finally moved out of her crappy apartment. And into a huge ass mansion! Now, she would have rooms for her collections instead of majiked boxes.

Her new house was three stories, and it looked like it belonged in Athens, Greece. She absolutely loved it.

It had only taken a month after she opened Midnight Desires to make enough money to buy the mansion. The best idea this grifter ever had was getting an honest job. Funny how that worked.

The poltergeist was currently working on the emptying of one of her "collection boxes". This one contained her obsession. Juno had told it hasn't healthy, this obsession of hers.

"What the hell does that old bag know, anyway," Nights grumbled, setting one of her many music boxes on the shelves that lined three of the four walls.

She had placed a column about three feet tall in the middle of the room. There was even a little red pillow on it.

This was for the music box that started it all. The damn thing that got her killed. She hadn't found it yet. But she would.

Eventually.

About two hundred years later, Nightshade bought a mirror.

Why? Because she thought it was cool.

It was oval shaped, three feet in height, two feet in width.

It was also dirty.

Nights hung it up on the wall next to her bed and gently stroked the dull black frame.

She placed her hand on either side of the frame, and zapped it with her majik, giving the frame a glossy shine and the glass was clear of dirt and grime.

But it wasn't her reflection looking back at her.

There was a boy with black, shoulder length hair, tan skin, and dark blue eyes.

AN: I see you made it to the end! More Fun Facts about Nightshade! She's named after NiGHTS. Who is from one of Sonic Team's video games. But that had to be her nickname. So I thought about Nightmare Before Christmas. And that part where Sally goes to the graveyard to stock up on some Deadly Nightshade. Then "Emily" came from Corpse Bride.