Disclaimer, if you please. I don't own Beetlejuice. Nor do I own Lydia, the Maitland's, Claire Brewster, Miss Shannon, or the phrase, 'We've come for your daughter, Chuck.' I just really like them all. In fact, I don't even really own the characters I myself made up, because they're still based off of ones Tim Burton already used in his movie.

Therefore, please don't sue me. It really wouldn't be worth it… If I had the kind of money that would make it worth it, I'd just buy the rights to use the characters in this little story, and save us both the court time. You know I would if I could.

Therefore, just enjoy, and take comfort in the fact that I'm making zero profit on this.

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--

"Lydia! Lydia honey, wake up!"

Wake up? Lydia screwed her eyes together more tightly, certain that was the last thing she wanted to do. Out there was pain, in here… Blissful nothing. At the moment, nothing was good. "Go 'way…" She murmured, trying to brush the concerned voice aside with a sweep of her arm, only to find it bound securely to her side. Even this though, wasn't enough to make her want to go back out to that world out there, and face what had happened.

"Lydia, honey…" She was aware of the blankets being drawn away from her, and a sudden sucking hiss of breath. "My god, what happened to you? Lydia… Lydia, did he do this to you?" As if, in a way the girl didn't understand, that would somehow make what had happened all that much worse.

He? Lydia finally opened her eyes, and considered the woman. Barbara. Who was she talking about?

Oh, right. The girl stifled a curse, closed her eyes, and tried again to wave away her concern. This time her effort was met with a stabbing flare of pain, and she groaned aloud, annoyed. But she couldn't leave Barbara thinking that Beetlejuice had done this to her… "Claire." She muttered, no longer worried about making things worse by telling her parents. It could never get worse than what had happened last night. "Fucking bitch…"

Barbara looked, to say the least, startled to hear such words come from her sweet Lydia's mouth, but then her eyebrows drew together in concern, as she took in what the girl was saying. "Someone from school did this to you?" She repeated, as if this just wasn't possible. "You're sure it wasn't him?"

Forcing one eye open, Lydia considered her foster mother flatly, utterly uninterested in whatever grudge she held against the poltergeist. "It-was-Claire-fucking-Brewster." She ground out emotionlessly, before closing her eyes again, and hoping that the blessed blackness would return.

"Adam! Adam, there you are… Look what happened to her! Who could have done this?" Lydia grimaced. As if she hadn't just told her…

"I'm calling the hospital." Adam, who'd apparently just arrived on the scene, muttered gravely. "She needs a doctor." Barbara caught his hand, staying him, and looked up with a frown as he almost said something. Then he sighed, relenting, realizing the problem. "Right. Ghosts." He looked down at her again. "We'll just have to wait until her parents come home then."

"Fine," Lydia was vaguely aware of mumbling, "Let me sleep." Her head pounded, heavy, echoing, and hollow, and she found herself drawing her pillow up over her ears, trying to drown out the sound that was actually pain. "I've had a shitty night…"

"No kidding." It was Adam who muttered this, sweeping his hand gently across her forehead. It felt like he'd hit her, but she just squeezed her eyes shut again, and waited for this pain too, to pass. "I can't believe even he would do something like this to her…" He was saying.

Before she could make the effort to correct the assumption, again, she heard Barbara's voice, oddly detached and distant. "She says a girl at school did this…" And after that, once more, blessed nothing.

There was no way to tell just how much time passed after this, lost in dreamless sleep, before she was woken again by the smell of smoke. A little more clear-headed, she managed to open both eyes this time, and with some small measure of effort, focus them on the ghost sitting on her dresser.

He didn't seem to notice her at first, too busy smirking over something that apparently amused him to no end. When he finally did, he flicked the tip of his cigarette, almost in greeting, and flashed her a smile. "Hey babes," He said amiably, "Thought you were dead for sure. Must have a thick head." Then, as if she didn't have every reason to, he added considerately, "You look like hell."

Lydia nodded, accepting this, still a bit groggy. "How long was I out for?" She muttered, drawing her hand across her eyes. She felt, sticky. Gross.

"Long enough for a doctor to come check you out." He informed her calmly. "And here I didn't even know they still made house calls." He took a slow drag on his cigarette, and released a fine mist of silver plumes through both nostrils. "Guy seemed to think if you'd made it this long, you'd be fine."

Lydia considered him, remembering the distinct feel of him leaving her. What did he have to do that was so important? He hadn't even known if she'd survive… Then, maybe it didn't matter to him. "Where'd you go?" She asked warily.

He snorted, in something like laughter. "Unfinished business, babes." He rolled his eyes over to her impassively, though his lips curled in a smirk. "All us dead guys have it, don't you know?"

There really was no answer for that… For all she knew, he was telling the truth. She tried to speak, felt something blocking her throat, and did her best to clear it, only to taste blood. That reminded her. "You saved my life, B-" She'd started to say his name, then broke off sharply, not even noticing the warning lift of his eyebrows. "Beej." She finished softly. If saying his name three times let him out this far, who knew what saying it even more would do?

Beetlejuice considered her, turning this new nickname over in his head, and then grinned slowly, deciding he liked it. And she hadn't forgotten what he'd done so quickly, either… Maybe because it had been her herself that was in danger, instead of someone else. "That's right," He agreed softly, "You owe me, babes."

He expected her to flinch, to look worried, to look scared, but to his surprise, his words didn't seem to faze her in the least. "Yeah," She agreed, as if this were no big deal, "I know." And the truth was, she wasn't scared, not really. After the hell she'd been through the night before, it would take a lot more to scare her than it used to. She lifted her eyes to him, a sort of detached hauntedness to them. "So what do you want from me?" She asked quietly.

The poltergeist grinned, pleased by this turn of events. Not that he trusted her, or anything. But so far, so good. "I want out babes, same as I told you before." She considered him dubiously, but he waved this away, nothing but pleasant. "No worries Lyds, I'll handle all the details. You just lay there, look pretty, and get better."

At first she didn't seem quite willing to accept this, but then after a moment, she nodded, proving herself much more amiable than before. "All right," She agreed, closing her eyes again, "I'll do that…"

Just as he would have taken off though, his ghostly body starting to fade, her eyes flew open again, and fixed on him sharply. "Beej?" She prompted, still not using his name.

He paused, frowning. "Yeah, babes?" Was she going to demand more information now? Was she going to try to back out of their deal? She was her mother's daughter after all, and he couldn't bring himself to forget how that had turned out. Which reminded him, he did still have more unfinished business to settle…

"Please." Was all she said softly. His frowned deepened, and he turned to consider her again. This had seemed to take a lot of her strength though, because it took her another minute to finish what she was trying to say. "Please don't hurt my family, Beej?"

There was no way he could stop himself from scowling at this. Damn. What was she, a mind-reader? "Please Beej," She struggled to sit up, and only subsided when he made an absent gesture for her to remain lying down. She fixed her eyes on him like some kind of wounded puppy. "Please?" She asked again, more softly than before.

Beetlejuice's scowl deepened, but he reminded himself that he did need to stay on her good side, for as long as possible. There would always be time for revenge later. "Yeah, sure babes." He found himself muttering. "Whatever." He flicked the cigarette in her direction, and she didn't even flinch, her eyes simply following it until it faded to nothing at all.

"I don't smoke," She said suddenly, turning her eyes back up to his, "They're going to know something's up."

Ah, back on familiar territory. He shot her his best disarming smile, and shook his head slowly. "Somehow, I don't think that matters anymore." He drawled slowly. "I'm out, babes. Soon I'm going to be more out. Which means I'm not going back, not for a long, long time. You get me?"

Lydia nodded, looking less interested now, and more tired. "Yeah…" She murmured, closing her eyes, and sinking back compliantly into her beckoning pillow. Again though, as he was about to leave, she stopped him. "Hey, Beej?"

He shot her a tolerant look. "Yeah, babes?"

"Are you still going to be in my dreams?" He wasn't sure if she was even still awake as she finished the question, as it came out somewhat unintelligibly, but he had enough of what she was saying to make sense of it.

He chuckled to himself. "That's up to you now, babes." He noted, watching as the lines of her face grew peaceful with sleep. "But there's no real need anymore, is there?" And this time, as he vanished, she made no effort to stop him.

--

"Lydia?" The voice came from far away, and her mind didn't want to make sense of it. She wrinkled her nose, turning her face into the pillow, and ignored the stab of pain that came with it. "Lydia, we need to talk. Wake up."

Her mother. Lydia opened her eyes, giving the woman her nastiest look. She figured she had that right, since waking brought nothing but pain, and here the woman was anyway, waking her. Was she going to try to tell her about Beetlejuice now? She snorted under her breath, figuring the woman was maybe just a little late for that. "Yeah," She asked at length, eager to be left alone, "What?"

Strangely, now that she was awake, her mother seemed to no longer be in any great hurry to say what she had to say. "Barbara told me that a girl named Claire Brewster did this to you." She said at last, in a hesitant way as unlike her mother as anything she knew.

Lydia's lips firmed. What, was the woman going to have her press charges? Because it was her word against a lot of witnesses, who could say she was anywhere else. Lydia knew how that sort of thing worked. "So what?" She asked dully, not willing to dwell too long on just how narrowly she'd escaped not just one bad situation, but two. "It's not like I can prove anything."

Her mother looked pained, disoriented. "They found your friend," She said slowly, just as if Lydia had claimed that her attacker was her friend, "In the quarry. This morning." Lydia blinked, frowned, and sat up a little, not understanding. "She was suffering from severe hypothermia by the time the workers spotted her." Another pause. "She almost died, Lydia."

Why did she say that like it was something bad? Lydia had almost died herself, thanks to that girl! But what she was saying didn't make a lot of sense, granted… No way would the girl have gone after her with any ideas of rescue. What, hours later, she felt a pang of conscience? Lydia didn't buy it.

Then, abruptly, Lydia remembered Beetlejuice's absent smirk as she'd woken up, staring off at nothing at all, apparently very pleased with himself. It stuck in her head for a minute, and she turned it over, trying to figure out if maybe he'd done something. Why would he? Did it matter?

No, it didn't, because she was suddenly certain it was him. Unfinished business indeed. Her lips curved in a soft, amused expression, and before she could stop herself, she started laughing.

Her mother stared at her in shock, like she'd just sprouted a demon head. "Lydia!" She said sharply, getting to her feet. "That girl almost died! How can you laugh?"

Lydia felt her expression grow cold, and the next words were past her lips before she could think them through. "Damn that bitch to hell." She said shortly, with such venom in her voice that it even took her aback. Had she really just said that? She felt something sick curling in her stomach. "Damn her to hell." She said again, this time with considerably less vehemence. "She left me to die."

Her mother had been about to say something else, angry, scared, but when Lydia said this, her expression suddenly became very still. She looked at Lydia for a long, long moment, and then quietly, she whispered, "What happened to you?" Her voice had now reached the point where it was actually shaking. "Were there others with her? Were there… boys?" Apparently, this possibility had not yet occurred to her.

She wanted to assure her mother that nothing like that had happened, although possibly only because it hadn't been given the chance, but what could she say? "They didn't rape me, mom." She muttered at last, reclining back on the bed. "They didn't get a chance."

Still, that look on her face, that fear. "Didn't get a chance?" She echoed aloud, slowly. "Lydia," If anything, she seemed more frightened now, "What happened?"

To this, Lydia had nothing to say. She just stared at a point on the far wall, her eyes half lidded in a sense of utter self contempt, for in those moments she truly wished that the girl had died. Certainly she hoped she'd suffered. "I don't want to talk about it." She said finally, her voice soft. "It doesn't matter anymore. It's over."

It was there in the woman's eyes, if she'd turned to look. But she didn't have to. She already knew. Lydia's mom was afraid she'd done that to Claire, in self-defense, yes, but here she was, sitting there before her with a look of pure ugliness on her face, laughing at a class-mate's near death. For a minute, looking at it that way, Lydia even hated herself.

"I'm going to get you something to drink." Olivia said at last, something heavier in her voice than there'd been before. "The doctor said you should be certain to get plenty of fluids… Doctors always say that, you know." She paused though, halfway out the door, and turned back. "You should have told me that you were having problems." She said softly.

To this, Lydia said nothing at all.

--

Lydia was awake when he reappeared in her room, a look on her face far more mature than her years, along with something like a loss of innocence, and an awareness of it. He considered her sitting there, looking off at nothing at all, not even aware of him yet. She really did look like hell. Or some incarnation of it. And still about as hot as they came.

He opened his mouth to announce his presence to her, when the door swung open again, and he hastily went transparent, remembering his temporary promise not to make trouble. It was a woman he didn't recognize at first, and so he frowned, considering her for upwards of a minute, before he placed her. Olivia. That bitch.

But what life did to the living… She looked older, so much so that he was a little surprised. Not that he'd bothered keeping time or anything. Still drop dead gorgeous, mind, but… Something was different. Something that wasn't in her hair or her eyes, or the tiny traces of lines, almost imperceptible still. It was like, something had been taken out of her. As if whatever had drawn him to her once as so unique, so unlike the rest of these humdrum living, was just gone now.

Despite himself, it bothered him a little, to see that. He stared at her with glum eyes, wondering what had happened to the girl so brimming with morbid interest, dark fascinations, and a grasp of the world beyond sight that was matched by few he'd known before, and only one since. So this was what growing up meant these days? Forgetting everything you were, everything you loved, and… conforming?

She'd deserved better than that. Never mind what she'd done to him, to see that little spark of fire he'd loved so much, just gone… That was worse than anything he could have done to her. There was no point in revenge anymore. It kind of pissed him off, and kind of depressed him. Damned if he'd let that happen to Lydia.

The two hadn't said a word to each other, Lydia just sat there still looking at nothing at all. Her thumb absently played with his ring, and for some reason now, her lips curved in something of amusement. It honestly restored his faith in the world.

Right, like he was like that.

"Lydia." Her mother was trying to get her attention, and the girl gave it grudgingly. Something had gone hard in her eyes, but he could see what her mother could, that it just pressed her further into what she'd been before, not less, and unlike her, this pleased him. "I'm going to leave it up to you, if you think you should talk to police about this. But, if you don't," She hesitated, before saying softly, "It might just make things worse."

For a minute his bride-to-be just considered her mother, and then her eyes softened, just marginally, and she sighed. "Mother… I didn't do anything to her. I don't know what happened, even if I've got a good idea." She sat up a little more, and her face twisted briefly in pain. She made the obvious effort of ignoring it, and continued. "I wouldn't give a damn if she'd died," She said, putting her hand lightly on her mother's arm, "But I didn't do it, okay?"

The look her mother gave her was one of utter disbelief, not for a moment buying into her daughter's words. "If that's the way you want to leave it…" She said at last, something of a wall falling between them.

Lydia reacted to it instantly, her eyes closing off from the woman as if some shadow had fallen across them. He saw then, a glimpse of the relationship the two had. For a long moment after this, silence stretched, and then Olivia turned, without another word, and walked away.

Slowly, Lydia hissed out between her teeth, and closed her eyes, tipping her face towards the ceiling. "Hell she was ever like me…" She said softly, and clearly to herself.

Shaking her head, she straightened again, and threw her legs over the side of the bed, as if preparing to stand. Instead though, she clearly was taking the opportunity to survey the damage that had been done. She was covered in a rainbow coloring of bruises, from an ugly green, to a fading yellow, to some still dark and purple. And there was no counting the number of scrapes that had ripped her soft skin.

"Trust me, babes," He heard himself intoning, matter-of-factly, never even having made the decision to speak, "I've seen worse."

She looked up as he appeared, something glinting in her eyes that at first he took for anger, and was rather surprised a moment later when he realized it was actually relief. "Beej…" She said it like a little prayer, suddenly looking tired and heavy, and a bit out of sorts. "God, look at me."

"I am." He assured her, lidding his eyes in a lazy, cat-like way. "Told you, I've seen worse. Hell of a lot worse." He crossed his legs at the ankle, leaning against her wall, and considered her with an appraising eye. "You? You won't even have a scar to show for it. Not on your skin anyway."

As if on cue, Lydia bared her teeth, looking a bit fey, and then forced it into a smile. "You got a thing for revenge?" She asked, almost calmly, as if words and expression had nothing at all to do with the same thing.

"Hell yeah," He agreed vehemently, narrowing his eyes in suspicion. "You can't tell me you feel sorry for the little bitch, after what she tried to do…"

"No." It was said without hesitation, without even the smallest qualm, and he grinned ear to ear, pleased to see this more bloodthirsty side to her. "But why do it?" She turned to him now, doubt in her gaze. "You got what you wanted. Without her, maybe you wouldn't have. Shouldn't you have thanked her?"

"Oh," His mouth settled into the self-satisfied smirk that suited him so well, "I thanked her. I made sure to do that. But babes," He paused, fixing her with the intense green of his gaze, "I told you, sooner or later, one way or another, you were going to say my name. All she did," He settled back again, watching her, "Sped it up a little. And slowed it down."

He expected her to question this last part, but she didn't, still not pressing into just how it was she had anything to do with him being able to stay out. "Yeah, well," She eyed the floor, clearly considering her ability to stand, before giving it up, and turning her eyes back to him, "You didn't kill her."

Both his eyebrows rose. "She's still alive?" He echoed in surprise. She nodded, as if the fact didn't exactly please her either. "Hmm." He crossed his arms, staring at his hand, where he rubbed his thumb and forefinger together slowly. After a moment, he grinned. "Just as well," He noted softly, "I wasn't really done with her yet anyway."

When he looked up again, Lydia was smiling. It might have been an ugly smile, but on her… Well, it looked good.

--

They were deep in conversation when Barbara heard the faint sound of someone on the stairs, and looked up in surprise. It had only been a day, it couldn't be Lydia… But it was. From the look on her face though, as she observed the meeting currently taking place, she wasn't sure she'd made the right choice, getting up at all.

A small frown on her face, she hesitated just for a breath, considering going back up. Then she forced a smile, nodded to Barbara and Adam, who were standing, and then tried not to look at any of them as she gingerly came the rest of the way down the stairs. Truthfully, she'd just been on her way to the kitchen… And she hoped to god that none of them wanted to talk about what had happened.

"Lydia." It was Adam who spoke, and his tone was grave. "We need you to sit down. There's something we should have talked about before now." A small pause, and then quietly, "I only hope we're not too late."

Lifting an eyebrow, Lydia considered him, and then did her best not to make a face. The Maitland's always were a step ahead of her parents, when it came to her. So, they wanted to talk about Beetlejuice… She cast a slow glance around the room, as if stalling, but truthfully wondering where he was. That faint sense of him was still in the air, she was certain he hadn't gone far.

"Yeah, sure." She said slowly, coming down the last couple of steps, and moving to take her place on the couch between her 'parents.' "I don't really have anything to say though." She warned, wincing as she sank into the cushion.

"Then just listen." It was Barbara now. Unintentionally, Lydia's face softened a little, facing her. She liked the woman, she honestly did. "We have to tell you something. Something that happened before you were born." She paused as Lydia's hand went to her ring, almost defensively. Maybe she didn't want to know, did Barbara think of that? "Yes," The ghost woman agreed softly, having no way to know what Lydia was thinking, "It's about him."

This ought to be good. She was certain now that Beetlejuice occupied a small area along the wall just next to them, not three feet away, hovering a few inches above the ground. Seeing that the story was about him… Suddenly she did want to know. To hell with not knowing what to expect from the poltergeist. Time to lay it all out. "Why did he give mom this ring?" She asked softly. Not that she liked thinking of it as her mother's ring… Because it wasn't. It was hers.

Unsurprisingly, it wasn't her mother who answered. She seemed lost in a world of her own, and just as happy not remembering. This time her father wasn't even there. Lydia wondered who'd decided that.

Lydia however, listened with more and more fascination as Adam and Barbara took turns telling the story… First their story, how they had lived, briefly, and then how they had died. She'd never known they'd drowned. And right off the Winter River Bridge she loved so much. Then about her grandparents coming, her mother in tow.

It amazed her, as the story went on, just how much they described Olivia the way she'd have expected them to describe her. Amazed her, and more than a little, scared her. The Olivia they talked about sounded like someone she would have liked to know… What had happened to that girl? Would it happen to her too?

And then, enter Beetlejuice. Only of course, they didn't say his name. She listened with perhaps more than appropriate interest, especially when she learned how to send him back. She missed just what happened next in the story, as she turned this little fact over in her head. She could do it. She alone knew he was out. But that was a hell of a way to pay him back…

When Barbara faltered, describing the exorcism, Lydia felt her first true chill of dread. She'd never known how close she came to losing them… And then she heard Beetlejuice's part in it, and was truly stunned. The rest, she only listened to with half an ear. She was shaken, deeply, and maybe not for the reasons they might have expected.

All through the story, her mother hadn't said a word, her face simply twisted in something like grief, something like fear, and a sense that Lydia would have sworn was remembering something she'd lost. When it was done, Adam and Barbara just sort of sat there, looking grim, looking worried. But all Lydia could do was stare at her mother. She'd swear… she almost saw regret there.

"You betrayed him." She whispered. The people in the room with her couldn't have reacted with more surprise if they'd literally jumped out of their skin. Olivia opened her mouth to retort, but Lydia was already steaming ahead. "He saved them, and you broke your promise! You always told me how much your word means to you! So what the hell, it didn't count because you changed your mind?"

Olivia stared at her daughter, stunned. "He tried to force me to marry him," She said at last, slowly, as if somehow Lydia didn't understand what she was saying here, "I was no older than you… Can you even begin to understand what that was like? He was dirty, perverted…" Her face twisted, as if disgusted just by the memory. "He was cruel, Lydia…"

The girl just stared at her mother as if she didn't know her, and then finally, at last, turned away. "Did you ever regret it?" She asked softly, wanting the answer more for Beetlejuice's sake than her own.

Her mother hesitated. "No." She said at last. But she had hesitated. After a moment, she tried to explain this away. "It wasn't that I wasn't grateful for what he'd done, Barbara and Adam… They're family." She paused, then went on to say, "But he had no right to ask what he asked."

Maybe. Lydia could see why her mother had been terrified by the idea, anyway. But she'd broken a promise. She'd punished him, when he'd saved her two best friends in the world. Maybe he had no right to ask. But he had asked. And she had agreed. Lydia, just couldn't look at her mother anymore.

"We're trying to warn you." Adam said softly, putting a comforting hand on her shoulder. All she could think of, was that he wouldn't be able to do that at all, if not for Beetlejuice. "You're already wearing the ring that he never managed to get on Olivia's hand. The fact that you can't take it off…" He fell silent for a moment, then pressed on, obviously against his will. "We thought he was gone. Now, I just don't know."

"We don't want anything to happen to you, Lydia." Barbara agreed softly. Barbara. Who'd tried to feed him to a… what was it? A sandworm? Gentle, never hurt anyone, Barbara. Damn it, wasn't anything what she'd thought it was?

Lydia lifted her head, and looked at them. Her family. Where was her father, anyway? Her lips thinned, and she considered each of them in turn. Her mother, who really had once been like her. The Maitland's, who she'd almost never had the chance to know.

And of course, Beetlejuice. She squeezed her fist inside another fist, trying to figure out how she felt about all this, then lifted her hand, and bit her thumb. "I'm hungry." She said between her teeth.

The reaction was immediate, as she'd known it would be. Barbara, always the more natural in the kitchen, headed that way without a word, while Adam said something about getting a pillow for her, and her mother disappeared silently, probably to find her father. They were all relieved to get away from her, eager to escape the heavy sense of discomfort their memories brought them.

Lydia turned her eyes to where he was, without question, without doubt. Her thumb still held lightly between her teeth. "Beej?" She prompted softly.

He was there in an instant, proving that he'd been there all along. "Yeah, babes?" He asked warily. As if he expected her to do what her mother had done, and try to send him back, after all he'd done for her.

She released the digit, and lifted her head. "Were they right?" She asked softly. When he didn't answer, just gazing at her darkly, she pressed on. "I mean, is that what you want? What you meant when you said you wanted out?" Still no answer. Despite herself, her voice dropped a little, at the next, "You want me to marry you?"

Beetlejuice scowled. He couldn't help it, he could already see where this was going. But she owed him, damn it! "Yeah," He muttered, hoping that this time, at least he wouldn't get eaten, "That's right. So, what are you going to do about it?" He should've known, just like he should've with her mother. Pretty thing like that… So full of all this wonderful sense of being lost in shadow… She'd never agree to it. Somehow, this time, he didn't have the will to try to force her, as he'd done with her mother.

She considered him for a long time, before her poor thumb returned to its place between her perfect teeth. She was trying to find a way out of it, obviously. He debated just letting her go, as long as she didn't try to send him back… It made him want to bare his teeth. He didn't wanna let her go! He was so lost in thought that the fact that she was speaking again was almost lost on him. He turned back to her with scowl. "What's that, babes?" He asked shortly.

"I said, all right." She repeated, with that trace of annoyance someone has, when the other person missed something important. He just stared at her for a moment, not understanding. She lifted her head, and something in her eyes gleamed in a way that was almost familiar. "You want to get married," She said slowly, looking thoughtful, "Let's get married."

--