A/N- Yo. Me again. With a couple more rambles. I've gotten a very positive response to this story and such sweet reviews. Thank you, all of you.

Now, I'd like to inform you all that this story has been incredibly difficult to write from the beginning. (Expect the part where Lydia was 'committing suicide.' That proved quite easy.) So if you have any ideas, feel free to message me. But do it now. In a couple days or so, that option may be done and cut off. Depends... if I inform you otherwise, stop. But, that wasn't what I actually set out to say...

Since this story has been a pain, I'm giving special shout outs to two wonderful people who've given me ideas and reminded me of a couple things.

First off, mywickedlyweirdnature. Thank you for the message and ideas. (Big smile so big it hurts my face. Hehehe).

Secondly, WitchyWanda. Thanks for the reminder about the mood swings.

And, for your information, I'm doing the best I can to stay away from the angst and horror and drama in this story. It's supposed to be my break. So if I start to dip too much into those genres, slap me with a message, reminding me to keep away from the depressing music. Hahahaha.

And I'm talking too much again...

Enjoy. Love, Sai-Chan.

Three days had drifted past the little prison floating in the middle of somewhere-nowhere. Lydia was spending her time measuring the house while her future husband cracked jokes about how obsessive-compulsive she'd become since her 'untimely' demise. She flat out ignored him by the third day, sticking out her tongue, before measuring the couch. That's when she realized she was measuring the couch. What was wrong with her? The couch, Deetz? She shook her head and knew a certain ghost was watching her from where he was floating in midair in the kitchen.

" Am I insane, Beetlejuice?" she exclaimed, throwing the tape down and shuddering. He roared with laughter, which made a twitch go up her spine, " I was being serious,"

" And that only makes it funnier, Babes!" he informed her, desperately trying to stop laughing. He failed impressively, busting out in even louder, more dramatic laughter. She puckered her lips in annoyance. Nothing could be done, however. He couldn't stop, though it was becoming apparent that he was, in fact, trying.

" You know, Beetlejuice," she cooed, scooping up the tape and gliding over to where he was. He looked at her with difficulty, he was laughing so hard, " There is one thing is this house I haven't measured yet,"

She ran a slender finger up his rather curved middle, leaning in so close her breasts squished against his stomach.

" You,"

His laughter cut and she smiled a seductively wicked smile, the smile of a true witch. All at once, his pale face turned red and he tried to stutter out something as he inched away in the air. When he did, though, her breasts dropped and bounced, for they weren't held in place by a bra; she'd died without one. Like the man he was, he couldn't help but stare as her assets settled into place under his stolen jacket and her silk nightgown. Lydia didn't fail to notice where he was looking. With a moan, she pushed her chest up by clasping her hands in front of her. He went a bit redder, his eyes widening. She groaned and shifted her arms, upping the amount of cleavage that could be seen. A tiny gasp escaped her lips as she swept up her dress playfully, her legs suddenly revealed. His head tilted, watching as she swung her hips from one side to the other. As she pulled the skirt up and shoved her breasts together, he looked confused as where to look, floating in closer. She rolled her eyes.

" You're a pervert, Beetlejuice," she said, dropping her skirt and moving the jacket to cover her breasts completely. He gawked.

" What'd you do that for, Lyds! Do more of that sexy stuff!" he commanded, pulling on her wrist. She turned away, pouting slightly, " Oh, you're a pain in the ass, Babes. Every time you do that, it's just to tease me,"

" We have sex,"

" But I want you to strip tease me,"

" I will one day, Beej," she assured him, loosening his grip on her. He let out a sigh, sinking down in the air, " So, do I get to measure you?"

" Are you kidding? Not a chance," was his snide answer, a bit of anger dripping around the edges. She shuddered at the bite, glancing down at the floor. But he didn't seem to notice. He was just floating there, yawning and staring up at the white ceiling.

Seizing her chance, Lydia tackled her lover to the ground. He screamed, fighting to get her off. It was no use. She already had the tape measure wrapped around his waist and pulled it tight. He pushed her hard in the stomach, trying to knock her off before she could read the number. The fact that he wasn't truly willing to hurt her, however, prevented him from using any real strength. Thus, she effectively read the number out loud in a gleefully girly voice, announcing it to the world despite the fact that they were the only two people in their world. The number was, from what she could conclude, at least four to five inches bigger then his normal waist size. As soon as she said the number, she broke down in laughter and fell onto the ground. He glared at her, kicking her in the shin. She moaned into the fit of giggles that had consumed her, pointing with a shaking finger as she covered her mouth with the other hand. Her love did not look amused, which only added to her pleasure. She fell backwards, gasping deeply.

" Done, Babes?" Beetlejuice questioned, sarcastically concerned. She rolled around a bit on the ground, bouts of giggles consuming her as she tried to stop. Eventually, she just laid there, breathing.

" Y-you... oh my... my sides hurt... you, my dear Beetlejuice... my y-your name is long... goodness... y-you," she raised her hand to point at him as he hovered over her, " Y-you have gotten quite la-large. Yes, indeed, y-you have," he blushed at her comment, his eyes hardening.

" And you're being a bitch about it,"

" Oh, calm down, Tiger. Haha... I've never called you that," she looked up at him from where she was on the ground and tilted her head, " What's wrong?"

" Can't a ghost be bothered by his pregnancy weight gain, Lyds?" he gave a loud sigh and she halfway sat up on the floor, asking what was on his mind, " It's just... I used to be so much thinner, y'know?"

" Beej, it's not like you were ever thin," she reminded him, without thinking. He looked absolutely offended, drawing backwards at her sheer rudeness. She covered her mouth in horror, smacking her hands over her lips. For a moment, they just stared at each other, perhaps in shock at her daring. Then Beetlejuice narrowed his eyes.

" Why you li-" he stopped short, a strange look on his face. Lydia blinked and he was gone. She spun around and saw the light turn on in the bathroom.

" Ah. Emergency bathroom break. Gotta love pregnant people," she snickered, climbing off the floor and dusting off her gown. The jacket slipped down a couple inches and she gave it a tender tug back up, patting it into place although she knew it didn't fit at all. Her hand brushed something she hadn't noticed in the pocket, it being so big on her, " Now what in the world..."

Lydia held up a half used pack of cigarettes, the kind her darling smoked.

" Now where was I?" Beetlejuice appeared near where she was turning the small package over and over, " Oh, yes. Why you li-"

" Beej, aren't you a chain smoker?" she cut him off, holding up the pack. He blinked, his face getting paler, if that was possible, " I haven't seen you light up once. Did you finally quit?"

" Not by choice, Babe," his voice had gone stiff and he swallowed nervously, " I'm pregnant now... I can't... smoke... anymore... until the kid's born... so I... had to... quit... smoking... where did you find those?"

" In your suit pocket,"

" S-so... uh... yes, I quit... aren't you going to throw them out?"

" Are they distracting you?" she teased, waving the pack in front of her. His eyes followed them with a lot more focus then when he'd been staring at her breasts. Grinning, she held them by her finger tips and jiggled them in front of his face, " Do you wanna smoke?"

" Yes,"

" But you're not gonna, are you? Because you care,"

" Yes,"

" Because deep down inside, you're a good guy,"

" Yes,"

" And these have no power over that side of you,"

" You're being an absolute bitch about this, Lydia,"

" I'm going to throw them out,"

" GIMME THEM!!!"

Beetlejucie snatched the pack from her hand before she could do anything. Lydia let out a scream, rushing over as he took one out and put it in his mouth. She grabbed hold of his arm and pulled, giving it her all. He fought back, jerking out of her grip. Her frantic cries didn't seem to reach his ears as he flicked open his striped lighter. A ball of fire burst up and he lit the cigarette as she choked him with his jacket, pulling back as hard as she could. Then she slipped and slammed into the ground as he went to take the first puff.

" BEETLEJUICE, DON'T!!!" she shrieked, panic washing over her body. She really couldn't believe he was going to put the life of his child at risk just for a stick of poison. But there he was, taking the first drag.

And then he wasn't. He exhaled the first drag and looked like he had no idea what he was doing with a pack of cigarettes. With a moan of frustration, he threw it onto the ground and crushed it with the heel of his boot. Lydia scrambled to her feet as he crumbled up the pack and shoved it roughly into her chest.

" You do that to me again, and I'll hurt you for real, Lydia," he hissed, gripping her arms a little bit too tight. She squeaked out a sorry and he let out a loud sigh, " Just get rid of them, alright, Babes? I... I'm going to go lie down... for a loooong time,"

" Okay,"

Giving her a kiss on the cheek, Beetlejuice vanished once more. For a moment, Lydia just stood there in the living room as though in shock. To be honest, she kind of was. She'd known that her lover was addicted to nicotine. She just hadn't known how bad, until that very moment. Knowing that keeping the cigarettes there would probably end in her getting mauled and the child in grave danger, she made her way to the front door. Careful to be quiet, she stepped out into the breezy limbo their prison was kept in. Holding up the pack, she wondered what was so great about something like a drug.

Shrugging, she took one out of the pack and rolled it between her fingers. She'd never smoked before. She'd never wanted to. She had wanted to save the planet and go on crazy adventures in the Neitherworld. Now, she pocketed the pack and searched the jacket for an extra lighter or something. Her hand found a spare match, which she lit on the side of the house. Not sure how to go about lighting it, she just did exactly what she always saw her ghost do whenever he needed a fix. She bent over, shielded the fire from the wind, and stuck the stick in her mouth. When the fire touched the end of it, she puffed a few times.

And gagged.

Lydia started to hack and cough as the smoke filled her mouth and throat. It tasted terrible and left a bad taste in her mouth. But when she took a couple more drags and learned to take slow, even drags, she found the rhythm soothing. Smiling, she took the last drag and exhaled it the same way she'd watched her husband to be do it for years. Then she flicked it onto the deck and stepped on it with the slippers she was still wearing, holding up her dress to do so.

" Well, that wasn't so bad," she muttered, fingering the pack in her pocket.

Glancing around to make sure the coast was clear, she took out another cigarette and searched for another match. Finding one more, she lit it and took a drag. Then she balanced it between her index and middle fingers. A smile crept across her face as she looked at herself. There she was, a ghost with a striped jacket and cigarette. She couldn't help but giggle and feel like a certain someone. Checking her surroundings again, she stuck the stick in her mouth and adjusted the jacket so it covered her shoulders and smoothed it over her stomach. Carefully, she made sure it was fixed correctly, before taking the stick out and posing like she often saw her fiancé do.

" Well look at me. I'm the ghost with the most, Beetlejuice," she said in a deeper voice, strutting around the deck importantly, " I'm King of the Neitherworld and can go to Earth too. I don't call people by their names and I call my fiancé Babes because I'm rude. I get in trouble and ruin people's lives," she took a drag from the cigarette, "That's my job. I'm a poltergeist and I haunt Babes because I think she's cute. I can float around and change shape and I'm six months pregnant because I destroyed my world. I-"

" Having fun, Babes?" Beetlejuice asked from where he was leaning on the deck when she turned around to strut the other way.

" OH MY!! BEETLEJUICE!!! OH CRAP!!" she exclaimed, throwing the cigarette down on the floor and pounding it into fine powder. He arched an eyebrow, crossing his arms over stomach.

" Well, don't let my arrival ruin your fun. Babes," he cooed out innocently, faking a kind smile. She turned bright red, fumbling for an excuse for parading around insulting him. Finally she just began to flutter around the deck, rambling about the weather and what to do about the wood and where she could put a window. He stayed where he was, watching her.

Suddenly, Lydia spun around and latched onto his arms, eyes big and pleading.

" I'm sorry," was all she could say. He stared down at her as she forced his arms to his side and hugged him tightly around the middle. She buried her face in his chest, where there was no comforting heartbeat, and bit her lower lip, praying that he wasn't as pissed as she figured he was.

" Ah, jeez... " he rolled his eyes, petting her hair, " Relax, Lyds. I'm not mad at you... though that impersonation wasn't very flattering, if y'know what I mean,"

" Sorry... um... about the smokes... uh..." she gave a laugh, standing up and twirling a lock of her raven hair, " I um... like them... May I keep them?"

" Like I care if you smoke,"

" Really?"

" Who do you think you're talking to?" he gave her an arrogant smile, adjusting his jacket, " I don't care what you do, Lyds, so long as it isn't that nicety shit you're obsessed with. Smoke away. But you can't do it in front of me,"

" Of course not," she spun around, her dress spinning with her, " You'd probably slit my throat for thinking about it, you addict,"

" You'll be one in good time," he assured her, putting an arm around her waist and drawing her close to him, " Would you like to try one of my other bad habits?"

" It wouldn't be no bathing, would it?"

" Not at all,"

" Then what is it?"

Beetlejuice placed a bottle of red wine on the table, in front of Lydia. Her mouth fell open as she stared at it and he popped the top. He poured her a glass full and carefully placed it down. Then he took a seat next to her, his own glass filled with melted chocolate mixed with Sprite; she'd watched him create the mixture the day before. For a moment, he just sipped his drink, then he motioned for her to try the liquor. At first, she refused.

" Come on, Lyds. You liked the cigarettes. Who's to say you won't like the booze?" he reminded her, scooting the glass closer. She shook her head, her hair rushing over the stripes, " Well, you seem to like being like me,"

" I hate you when you drink. You're positively vile," she snapped, turning away from the glass as though it offended her, and it more then likely did. He rolled his eyes and debated that he drank all the time, " And those are the nights you feel me up and try to rape me. You're a true fiend when you drink, Beetlejuice. I won't have any of it,"

" I'm not that bad," she gave him a furiously stern look, " Okay, when I'm drunk, I'm that bad,"

" You can't drink without getting drunk,"

" Yes I can. I just don't like to," he sipped his mixture, " Besides, I'm an alcoholic. Drinking doesn't make you an alcoholic. Drinking obsessively when alone does. You're just gonna... be a social drinker,"

" I'm plenty social without drinking,"

" Bullshit," he sounded just a bit frustrated. Then he nervously laughed, " Fine. Just do it because when I'm not pregnant, I plan on getting drunk and I was hoping you'd do it with me. Y'know, since we'll be smoking buddies after this," he patted the side of his curved stomach.

Lydia was quiet for a long time. The red liquid beckoned her, if only because she'd never tried it before in her life. Red wine, she knew, wasn't like the beer and whiskey and such that her husband drank when he set out to get smashed. Her mother drank a glass of wine every now and then with dinner. And her mother never got drunk like her fiancé. Considering that, and the fact that she knew she didn't really want to be sober whenever her lover decided to drink again, she picked up the glass and put it to her lips.

Beetlejuice's smile should've been a warning. But she took a gulp anyways.

It tasted wonderful. Like fruit, with a woody taste and a bite of alcohol. She loved the way it ran down her throat. So smooth and flavorful. Now she understood why it was viewed as elegant to taste wine and drink it with a fancy dinner. There was nothing about it that connected it to the wicked things her sweetheart consumed. So, she took a couple more sips, relishing the taste. Then she realized her glass was empty.

" Hey, Beej. You mind topping me off?" she repeated what she often heard her parents saying to each other, smiling over at him. He beamed as he poured more into her glass, " Too bad you can't have any. Then this would be romantic,"

" Cheers anyways, Babes," he whispered, clinking his glass against hers. She sipped her wine as he sipped his concoction.

Lydia laughed hysterically, drinking a little bit of what remained of the wine straight from the bottle. Beetlejuice arched an eyebrow, watching as his fiancé drunkenly got to her feet. Her body swayed violently and she laughed loudly, dropping the bottle. His eyes glanced down as it smashed into pieces on the floor, then she was standing in front of him. She put her hands on the arms of his chair and leaned in close. He was eye level with her breasts, and wasn't complaining about the view.

" You, -hic- Mr. Beetle... Mr. Juice... my husband... are lookin' certainly very sexy right about now -hic-. Know what I mean?" she said in a slurred voice, smiling at him. Her eyes were out of focus and her breath smelled like alcohol. Still, he wasn't complaining, " We should fuck,"

" We should,"

" So... how 'bout you get out of yer -hic- clothes and -hic- we make another baby," she gripped his jacket tightly, but ended up slipping and falling into his arms. He cradled her, pushing her hair out of her face, " Oops,"

" You're very drunk right now, Lyds,"

" I know!" she exclaimed happily, " That's why we should -hic- fuck!"

" I'd love to. But I'm not a guy right now," he informed her, talking into her ear. She broke into a fit of giggles, sliding down onto the floor in front of him. She ran a finger over his boot, then pushed her cheek into his leg, wrapping her body around it.

" You could -hic- fondle me,"

" I could, Babes. But you'd kill me in the morning,"

" I can't. -hic- You're already dead!!" she roared with laughter, smacking the ground. He calmly smiled, twirling a lock of her hair, " Beej... hahaha... you're already dead, you silly ghost. Hahaha... and so am I... so lets -hic- fucking have ghost sex and -hic- fly away from this room and -hic- have a lot of babies.." she paused, rubbing her eyes, " Where's the wine? I want another -hic- glass... you should have some too... you're too -hic- quiet... where's the wine?"

" You've had enough,"

Lydia broke into another fit of giggles, falling onto her side. He leaned over a little, observing as she laid there and breathed. She reached for him, smiling through her haze. Like a good, wicked husband to be, Beetlejuice took her outstretched hand. She mumbled about being hot and wishing she knew where her husband had run off to with that whore and then she eyes fluttered shut. Her breathing evened out and her hand grew limp in his hand. He laid a gentle kiss upon it's white knuckles, then heaved himself out of the chair. Carefully, he scooped his fiancé off the floor and held her in his arms. Her head rested on his shoulder, her long hair draped over her shoulder and curling along the jacket she refused to take off. Her cheeks were flushed red and she was completely unconscious. Still, he held her cautiously as he walked to their bedroom. There, he placed her on the bed and stroked her cheek as she slept deeply in a drunken stupor.

" You really need to learn to unwind, Babes," he told her, kissing her on the lips tenderly. She smiled into her sleep, but didn't move, " All this worrying about me is only gonna hurt you in the end. Don't you see that?"

With that, he pulled the sheets over her slender body. She hiccuped, he kissed her forehead, and left the room, closing the door tight so the light wouldn't disturb her. Sighing, he drifted over to the kitchen table and took a seat. The wine had spread over most of the floor and he knew, by morning, Lydia would be howling with a hangover and a ton of fury at him for letting her get drunk. She'd probably never touch the stuff again and would more then likely forbid him to ever drink a drop as well. He knew what she was like when she was bitter and angry with him. Not that he was complaining. She was the perfect person for him. A little bite turned him on. It was one of the reasons he'd fallen for her, long before she felt the same way.

What a wonderful day that had been, he thought, twirling the wine glass around his fingers. He'd gotten a little tipsy and informed a fourteen year old that he loved her and wanted her to be his forever, in life and in death. She had been viciously confused and had put his feelings on ice for the next two years while she battled the feelings she obviously had. He hadn't mentioned it for years. Then, two years ago, she'd confessed that she wanted to be his wife more then anything. They agreed to date until she died of a natural cause, so she won't get stuck at a desk in a place he wasn't allowed. Their relationship wasn't perfect but it was great, especially since he could be with her on Earth as either Betty Juice, Beej, or cousin BJ. But to wait decades for her? Oh, that was easy. A particularly easy task for a ghost like him. He would wait forever to marry her. He just hadn't planned on waiting to propose.

He'd planned on proposing when she graduated high school. That was when he'd gotten punished for conning people out of their money and thrown in jail. When he came back, Lydia and him had gotten in a fight. In a rage, she'd told him she never wanted to see him again and screamed his name three times to be rid of him. He'd sought revenge on Mayor Maynot and gotten tossed into that prison only to find out he wasn't exactly a boy and he was carrying a child.

Oh how miserable it had been. He'd been alone, trapped in a tiny home, with a baby on the way. He'd spent most of his time sick with morning sickness and then planning different ways to explain to Lydia that she was a step-father before ever marrying him. And then, low and behold, she appeared in the prison with him, dead and ready to be wed.

" And what happens?" he questioned himself, letting the glass fall onto the table and crack beautifully, " She goes stir crazy and starts smoking while becoming a compulsive freak..."

He sighed, rubbing the side of his stomach as the baby moved. The baby. Lydia was right, he thought. This was much more serious then he'd originally considered it. He was six months pregnant. And he was not good with children. Being pregnant had been one hell of a ride, and it was setting up to continue to be that way, but he wasn't so sure he was looking forward to being a mom. He'd always pictured his girl pregnant once, maybe twice, and he'd just have to play daddy while she took care of most of the work. And, of course, this would've been years later, when she was prepared to be a parent. It would've been planned. He would've had time to prepare, to mature. Instead, he was six months along and she was a mere eighteen. Neither had expected to be parents and neither were sure it was a good thing that it was happening sooner rather then later.

The baby kicked and a smile crossed his face, his fingers running along the curve. He felt the baby kicking again. Although it did hurt, he couldn't help but feel happy and proud. Sure, he preferred the wild life, going on adventures with the love of his life. Yet, wasn't parenthood supposed to be the biggest adventure of them all? Wouldn't this be a grand roller coaster of fun in itself? He already knew the answer and grinned wickedly at the darkness, twirling the glass with a bit of his concoction inside.

" A toast to the greatest wrath of God, the greatest adventure of them all. A toast to my gorgeous, unconscious bride. And a toast to myself, for being, well, myself," he laughed, tilting the glass to the air. He drained the rest, before leaning back and resting both hands on his stomach.

The baby moved and he cringed a little. Then he just laughed, running a hand through his messy hair.

" At least I only have to do this once!"

Talk about being a long chapter. It was originally supposed to be cut into two parts, but then one of the chapters would've been really short and I didn't like the idea of putting out another short chapter. Besides, I think it worked well.

Thank you mywickedlyweirdnature for the suggestions about the booze and cigs and the bathroom break. Thank you very much.

And the corruption of Lydia Deetz begins!

That's all.