A/N: Okay, I owe you all an apology. I've been updating so slow I might as well wack myself in the head. Hard. Down to business; Big time jump. Sorry if that disappoints those who wanted to know what happens between her moving and then right now. Unfortunately, I don't have the attention span to sit my ass down and type all that out. But the events happening that were skipped in this time warp will be revealed, no less! Only in flash backs and deep thoughts that our characters might encounter on our little adventure. I hope you guys aren't too mad at me!! D:

I'll shut the hell up and let you read now.

What the hell? One moment she was standing there, her mouth nipped shut by a steel piece of metal bolted to her jaws, and now she was back on… Saturn? Oh hell no. Barbara hesitated in her spot, her wedding dress turning slightly yellow at the bottom, thanks to all the sand. Turning her hips around, she realized that without his presence, the gag thrown onto her mouth was no longer engaged. Well, that's something to look forward to.

Yet still, she wasn't to relax yet. The ghost whined slightly to herself, a small murmur of fear as she heard the screech of a large sandworm appearing in the distance, looking rather like a dolphin as it looped in and out of the sand to move.

The sandworm reared it's head back, sniffing the air. It sensed a presence, that of a ghost. Though they were the only source of food he's ever really had around here, he didn't like eating ghosts too much now, now that one certain ghost has proven to him that they are worthy of being left alone. The ghost with the most, he called himself, and that little girl, too. The one that stood beside him and took the sandworm down from the net as a baby, scared and almost hunted.

He looked forward to seeing them again, after that, but he never did run into them too often. The memory of which, was fading slightly as his instincts took over, telling him to feed himself.

Obeying his instincts, the sandworm eyed his victim, rearing his head back in a roar and shifting his head to the point that the top skin folded back and revealed the head beneath it, the one that ate to keep him alive.

But then he stopped, folding the mouth of the top head back over the offensive one, and eyed the woman again. That scent, that incredibly familiar scent that sent his beady red eyes growing wide. Apparently this ghost knows her. The woman with the curliest brown hair he'd ever seen has actually been close to the little girl whom had saved his life years ago.

And, not only the little girl's scent, but the rotting stench of her ghost companion at the time. That striped oaf, whom he had thanked yet the poltergeist had rejected his appreciated thanks hastily. The memory brought a slight frown to his large mouth, yet how the little girl was so nice to him, even after he had tried to eat her himself as his first snack. A breather, no less. Thought breathers weren't as appetizing, they were better for sandworms rather than ghosts. They held more nutrition rather than spiritual energy, but that's what the monsters were for, too, he supposed.

What had surprised the large sandworm himself was the fact that the girl's scent was drenched in fear of that oaf. And somehow it had gotten all over this woman, whom was probably attempting to protect her. Yet from what? The fear wasn't great, yet it was enough to set the sand worm off, and he bent lower to get a stronger whiff of the stench. As a sandworm he was able to smell just more than a certain scent, but what that scent is, has, and why it's there. It sometimes made it easier for them to hunt, make them take it to their advantage.

Yet, he was getting a closer look for a whole new reason, and the woman reached by raising an arm and whacking aimlessly at him, trying to knock it back with her own fear. But before she could really hit him, he pulled back and watched her. She was fearing the poltergeist herself, him a little more, but still fear of that same man.

Watching the woman for just a split second, he trailed her scent and looked over to a door, possibly back to her house. This he hoped for, and lowered his back to her.

Barbara's heart was racing, unsure of what this sandworm was going to do. He was studying her. Though it didn't last long, it felt like it was taking forever. And when it had lowered its back down to her side, she hesitated. Was it wanting her to hop on? Where would it take her? Why was it doing this instead of eating her? These questions, and many more, kept looping around her head as her body told her, 'yes, take the offer.'

With a shaking hand, the ghost-woman slid one leg over the sandworm, and mounted herself on him. It was large, scaly, almost like an oversized snake, yet thankfully to much of the fabric on her dress, she didn't have to feel it anywhere else but her hands.

Gripping the fin on the back of the sandworm, Barbara held on as the large creature reared back it's head and leapt into the air with the push of it's tail, flying over a door, her door, and broke suddenly into the room beside the dining room. Whatever room it was, she didn't know how the sandworm could sense it there at all. Her eyes widened in fear that she would crash hard into the floor yet not knowing that the sandworm would also put a huge hole in it.

As fast as she could, she shifted herself and leapt off the worm and by Adam's side, not bothering to watch the creature rip a pit into the middle of the room and turned herself into her husband's embrace. Finally, turning her head to see what has been done, she sighed with relief. The sandworm, to her, was an ally for simply getting rid of the one pest she probably will never have to see again in her afterlife.

All attention now turned towards Lydia, whom now stood in the center between the two married couples, glad she, herself, wasn't married. Looking back and forth between the Maitlands and the Deetzes, Lydia smiled as they just looked at each other warily, happy that her parents finally believe her, and that she wasn't the only one in the house able to see them. Seriously… having been turned to for communicational purposes constantly was starting to get annoying.

Lydia sighed, and slipped the ring off her finger, tossing it into the pit as well as the glove on her hand with it. Smiling to herself, content that it wasn't cursed to stay on her finger, Lydia took a few steps back and stopped, running into something. "Sorry!" she apologized to the little creature in the demented fire place. He just looked at her with the same damn expression he'd held all night, turned, and left through the fireplace just as it began to bend into its normal shape.

Huffing slightly at the rude behavior, Lydia shrugged it off and looked back between her two sets of parents, both obviously getting use to the site of each other quickly. "Guys?"

"Yes, honey?" Barbara looked at her with a concerned gaze, obviously aware how everyone must be feeling about this. "Can I… can I go upstairs now?" she asked quietly, wanting more than anything just a hot shower and a good night's sleep, and to forget about it all. Including the Ghost with the Most. "Yes, Pumpkin, go on up…" Charles nodded, grimacing still, though. Everyone must be exhausted, he figured. He supposed that everyone would take action later, and find out what their game plan for this outcome would be.

Anxious for relaxation, mutch like her own father had been for the past few months they'd lived here, Lydia ran upstairs to her room and began ripping the ties and nets and such from her hair. Throwing her shoes off, and attempting to unzip the dress by herself, Lydia froze, horror struck on her face. She stared with awe pure in her emotions as she examined the ring laying there on her pillow.

"The Blinker! Turn on the blinker!"

Lydia swerved to the right to dodge a car coming down the road. She inhaled a deep breath and did her best not to crash. In her attempt to stay on the road, Lydia slammed on the breaks and swerved left into the road she intended on turning into just moments before, and then drifted to a stop.

Charles sat there breathless in the passenger seat, gripping whatever he could to keep himself alive while his daughter was at the wheel. He never would have guessed that she could be a possible reason for his death. Yet, teaching her to drive would be cause enough when she forgets how to turn in the middle of traffic. "Sorry dad…" Lydia murmured, feeling like a complete dumb ass. "Don't worry, pumpkin. It's you're first time."

"I forgot how to turn the blinker on."

"Don't worry about it now. Just go strait and we'll be back home."

Lydia nodded and went over the gears, making sure that it was on, and that it was in drive. After checking her position, she smiled and let go of the break just enough to get the car moving, and slowly let go of it as she went, eventually getting comfortable with the speed enough to start hitting the gas.

The rest of the drive was silent, and Lydia didn't really like it too much. She didn't want to turn on the radio, in fear that it might distract her from her driving lesson, and kept both hands on the wheel.

Cautiously, she turned into the rocky driveway and parked the car. Lydia smiled and pulled out the keys, handing them to her father and exited the car. She was pleased with herself, for doing semi-well at her first time driving. She was excited at all that she gets a driver's permit.

As she opened the door, Lydia was greeted by Barbara first. "Oh honey! How was it?" she asked hugging her foster daughter. "It was all right. I forgot how to turn a blinker, other than that I did fine," Lydia hugged her back and then moved to Adam who wished to greet her as well. "Well, at least you didn't have too much trouble," he smiled as Lydia hugged him too, and started for her room. Barbara sighed, her shoulders sagging a little at the sight. Lately Lydia has been spending more time in her room after being rewarded for tests or spending, the smallest bit of time with family. Much like her father, she went off to do her own little thing. Adam tucked an arm around his wife as they greeted Charles as well with a warming smile, and Charles just smiled back, following his daughter upstairs and made his way to his study.

Lydia sighed with relief as she closed the door behind her. Her eyes scanned the room, as if making sure that no one were watching, and smiled to herself. Starting to her bed, she stopped in her tracks, staring at her pillow. "What the fuck!" she yelled to herself as she picked up the ring for about the third time that Saturday. Why; why her? Every single time she throws that ring away, destroys it, makes it impossible to wear it some how finds its way back onto her pillow. What the hell? Lydia growled in frustration. For about the past month and a half, she has been occupying herself in her room by trying to destroy the ring. She was getting fed up with it.

"I would call him, make him get rid of it," she thought to herself out loud. "But then he'd probably do something incredibly stupid."

Deciding that she didn't want to mess with the ring at the moment, Lydia made her way to the mirror to brush her hair. After trying to drive her hair felt like a mess, and she didn't have anything better to do at the moment.

She sat there, staring at her reflection. Her black hair cut like it had always been since the day…. When had she woke up again? The day that… well… she didn't remember anything. Lydia had been so focused on who she was before, trying to remember her mother, her friends, where she once lived but she forgot all of that, and could only remember New York.

Lydia ran her fingers through her hair several times to undo it from her usual up do. Looking at her short hair, staring deep into the eyes of her reflection, Lydia frowned. Was this what she use to be? She figured that going back to who she was would help her remember, but Delia does nothing but tell her differently. She remembers a few times when they were in New York shops, and Delia kept telling Lydia what cute outfits she use to wear. Yet, Lydia doubted so highly; each outfit picked out by Delia was either pink or something Lydia just wasn't. Charles, when Delia wasn't looking, would tell her the truth. Her favorite color, what she interested in, all of these things and when Lydia tried them out for herself, found that she really took a liking to them either way.

Tracing the dark circles of her eyes, now, the gothic teen grimaced slightly. Though she was very confident in her likes, now that she has tried things that she was sure she liked in the past, Lydia still couldn't help but feel self conscious about herself. Was it just that natural teen ability? She didn't know; she was sixteen for god's sake.

She sat there for a few more moments, and turned her head back to the ring, her eyes narrowing. That stupid idiot! Who does he think he is? Well, the Ghost with the Most, of course but… Lydia stood up and stepped slowly to her bed. Pale fingers picked up the ring and held it in her palm as she stared down at it.

His name… his voice, all of it too seemingly familiar. Had that whole time she could have sent him away herself, and she hadn't, because she was trying to pin point why he seemed so… what? Lydia didn't know. Just being around him, it made her feel like she knew herself at all. Was that just him juicing her? Why? Staring down at the ring, the frown on Lydia's face deepened along with her thoughts.

"Why must you be so complicated… even after you're gone…"

"Damn her! Damn her to hell, I don't care about that little bitch anymore!"

"Stuff it Betelgeuse!" Juno slammed a fist on her desk as she held the fingers of her free hand up to her forehead, as if it would cure her headache. "I know she agreed," she muttered, keeping her hand to her forehead. "Lydia Deetz is still in the deal until' you call it off."

"Tell me something I don't know, you old hag."

"Okay, well, how about this; Lydia Deetz is now the only one able to call you since the deal is still on."

"What?!" Beetlejuice leaned forward in his chair, baring his teeth. "That's right," Juno smiled slightly, seeing how it pissed him off to know this. "Fine, then the deal's off," he said. He'd rather try to start all over again with someone else than have her be the only one eligible to call him. "Not that simple," Juno groaned, and fell back in her chair. This time it was Beetlejuice's turn to smile, seeing that throwing off the deal will cause her more paper work.

"Not just the paper work, but you can't call off the Deal unless if Lydia signs a few papers herself," Juno lit a new cigarette and took a long drag, blowing out the smoke through the slit in her neck and looked at Beetlejuice. "Which means you'll have to pay her a little visit."

"Fuck. No."

Beetlejuice narrowed his eyes at the woman. Hissing through his teeth, he clicked his tongue and prepared himself to snap at her, until' she startled him with what he least expected. "And what the hell is this?" Juno asked, slamming a file down on her desk in front of him. "I don't know, what is it?"

"You tell me."

Beetlejuice grabbed the file and looked at the label on it. Lydia Deetz.

"She has her own file. She shouldn't have one of those until' she's married, not only that, but it's filled with a whole bunch of crap. I always figured she was reborn in the Neitherworld and was just causing trouble. I had no damn clue till now that she was alive."

"Whoa…" Beetlejuice opened it up and saw her twelve-year-old picture in it and gritted his teeth. At the sight of it, he snarled at the file, slammed it shut, and threw it back on Juno's desk. Juno eyed him warily and picked up the file more gently than he had thrown it back down. Opening the file, she merely grimaced, and gritted her teeth in attempt to keep her anger muffled. "Just get out of here," she said finally. "Get out, and make her sign these god damn documents if you want the deal to be off." Juno took another puff of her cigarette as she threw a small packet of papers at him and turned her back to the annoying poltergeist.

Beetlejuice looked at her a moment, his face twisting in a scowl as he became more confused by the second. "No more yelling?" he asked, shifting the scowl to a smug grin now. "If I yell I'll end up breaking every piece of glass in this god damn place, now get outta here and just get those damned papers signed," she hissed through gritted teeth as smoke exhaled through the gash in her neck. "Now."

And within a minute, Beetlejuice felt himself being sent away and back into the dusty hell hole of the old Road House.

"God Damn it!"

Beetlejuice stood up, the packet of papers fell to the floor as he did so. He picked them up and glared down at them as they were almost crumpled in his large hands. "I don't even know where to find the damn girl…" he sighed, frowning a bit at the memories.

Why was she being so difficult? Well… yeah, the last time he ever saw her was in a friggin' hospital, but it couldn't have been that bad, could it? She could have gotten her tonsils removed 'er something', but then why be in a hospital for two months?

Beetlejuice growled at his own mind, damning it to hell for being so oblivious and why he just couldn't figure it out. But that's not the point now! Now she's somewhere… some where out there. In the living room, back in that dreaded house, he supposed. Where had she gone earlier? After the incident in the hospital he tried to visit her in her room and she wasn't there. Like they had left right after getting home. What the hell?

Beetlejuice gritted his teeth. After all he'd done for that damn girl, he waited for her to come back, planned out his apologies. Got a fucking job just to prove how sorry he was! With Juno, no less. He didn't even know the dead had caseworkers before that, mostly because he didn't have to visit one after he died.

Still, he did do something for a living rather than just taking money from people. He did his best, became her main assistant and eventually he figured she had died herself. But no, unfortunately, it was an illusion. Apparently since they had his help in the Neitherworld, it made time in the afterlife go by faster. Much faster. A day became a week, weeks became months, months became years, and not even two weeks had gone by in the real world. He still didn't get that.

And yet, when he realized that he had been working for too long, letting the tobacco get to his head, he quit. Damn this place, Beetlejuice remembered saying to Juno before leaving, I have better things to go on with. He didn't. He just missed Lydia; missed her dearly. He had lost his best friend for life, and like she had promised to be there forever, she wasn't. This sent him mad, the fact that she'd just leave him like that.

And then she freakin' promises to marry him! Why the hell had he ask for that anyway? Beetlejuice was about ready to punch himself in the face. He growled, knowing why he had done that after all. There was actually more to it than just wanting to get out. He was mad at her, and he wanted her to stay. If they were married, she'd have stayed with him no matter what, unless if she some how gets the right to get divorced. More than anything, he just didn't want to let her go again. He was angry with her, upset that she would leave him yet he still wanted her by his side. And if marrying her would do the trick than damn it he'd do it.

What surprised him even further was that she had agreed, and after he had said her vows for her she didn't try to pull away anymore. Either she was just so scared or… or what? What could that be?

Beetlejuice stared down at the papers blankly as his mind raced. Sure, that was just a few months ago, after he had gotten eaten by a god damn sandworm. He would hold a grudge against that, sure, but there were bigger things to complain about.

For starters, did he really want to end this with her? Well, obviously she just doesn't want to be around him anymore. Fine. So be it. Beetlejuice decided that no longer will he bug her, and if he does happen to see her some time in the future he won't as much spare her a passing glance. Fuck her. Who needs her anyways? Beetlejuice sure doesn't. Who's gonna try and tell him different?

And as if right on cue, Jacques entered the front room, slightly out of breath from his afternoon jog. "Beatlejoose-"

"Fuck. You."

And with that, he stood up and started for the door before the skeleton could get in another word.