Okay. Disclaimer. Still doing that, huh? I know Beetlejuice isn't mine, but why the heck can't I pretend? Oh well, Beetlejuice, Lydia, the Maitlands, Prudence, Bertha, Claire, Prince Vince, Juno, the Neitherworld, other assorted characters... Nrggghhh.... Not mine. Breaking Benjamin? Not mine. Bowie, Ozzy? Not mine.

Mmm... Bowie...

For the love of mercy, isn't that bad enough? Don't sue, too!

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So, overwhelming flood of encouragement. :smile: I get it guys, in fans, it's quality, not quantity. You're all reading this for your own reasons, but in the end, you like my work.

:hugs: Thank you.

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Music pounded through the air, desperate, demanding, drowning out all ideas of life beyond the goth girl's room, an almost tangible barrier between her, and anything she didn't want to acknowledge at the moment. This was the best way to do homework.

I want a normal life. Just like a newborn child. I am a lover, hater. I am an instigator…

The tune fell from between her lips too, like a hiss, in starts and stops, her tongue pressing against the back of her teeth, eyes narrowed as she considered the numbers before her. She'd been staring so long, she swore they tried to move when she looked away… Just two more days. Two more days of school, and then the weekend. Sometimes she only survived this crap, knowing there was a weekend.

You are an oversight. Don't try to compromise. I'll learn to love to hate it. I am not integrated…

There. That was the last of it. Lydia closed the book with a sense of vindication, like it was some kind of battle between her and her teachers, trying to get in the way of her fun… And once more, she'd emerged victorious. The damn homework was done.

Now she could do whatever the hell she wanted.

Just call my name… You'll be okay. Your scream is crawling through my veins…

'Click.' Off went her CD player. She stretched slowly, until her fingertips pointed backwards over her head, and sighed, relaxing again just as slowly. Okay, that was a hell of an assignment. She had maybe an hour left, tops, before it got dark. Beetlejuice of course, having made himself scarce almost two hours before… Willing to stand by her side before neitherworld cops, rogue magic, and even her boyfriend, but clearly drawing the line at waiting for her to finish her homework.

It was actually too bad. She didn't know why, but that song always reminded her of him… A little. The beginning at least. And he was never around when it was playing. Making a little sound of acceptance with her tongue, she pushed her books away, and stood, grimacing at a twinge in her back, from bending over her work so long. At least she had a desk now…

Running her fingers through her hair, she cast a long glance around the room, frowned, and made a mental note to tidy up. Just, later. It was already almost six… She had a date. And she still had to get ready.

But this time, she had her clothes laid out ahead of time. Dark blue jeans, a form fitting t-shirt of navy blue, with a matching scrunchie, and her black 'bat-buckle' belt, with matching earrings. She almost never wore earrings. Then, she almost never wore her hair up either, and she was. Sort of. But this time, she was forsaking make-up… She planned to dim the lights in the living room anyway, and details like eye-shadow tended to be lost in candlelight.

Not bothering with shoes, Lydia toyed with the shoelace around her neck, normally not obvious with the choices she made in clothes, but now an unhidden, aged, grungy shade of gray. She hadn't taken it off since Beej had given it to her, not even to bathe… But there was no heading downstairs with that particular bit of jewelry, without raising a lot of hard to answer questions.

Reluctantly, Lydia drew the thin loop of fraying fabric over her head, the thick golden hoop spinning freely on the end, once it was no longer supported by her chest. She watched it, dangling from her fingers, with a frown. This ring was what had brought her and Beetlejuice together… Even, in a roundabout way, her and Vincent too. And she was so used to it, that her neck felt bare without its familiar weight.

But… It was just for the night. Then she'd put it back on.

Pulling out the hidden drawer, barely an inch in height and disguised as a fancy trim, she couldn't quite suppress a smirk as it suddenly yawned, once free of its confines, and offered a depth of a good three feet, for her to hide all her favorite treasures in. Though it was of course, only one such hiding place the desk had revealed, upon careful inspection…

There was an ace of spades, battered a bit with time. She still remembered 'collecting' that. Her spider web poncho. An aged flier for some rock concert she and Beej had seen halfway around the world… On a school night. Various treasures she'd won off the poltergeist in games of chance or skill… Then sometimes lost back, before winning again. A poster of the Midsummer Night's Dream cast, from a play at least a hundred years before, recently signed by William Shakespeare. Post mortem, of course.

And now, her ring, with the tiny etched name, that had started everything, almost four years before. She started to lay it across her poncho, then paused, and, after a moment's thought, reached down as far as she could, and tucked it under all her other little treasures, at the bottom of the drawer, where she could be doubly certain no one would find it.

Knock, knock, knock. "Honey?" Barbara, of course. "Didn't you say he'd be coming soon?"

Soon? More or less. She'd actually timed it very well… Though it wasn't like there couldn't be a margin of error, since he could actually show up whenever she called him. Not that she liked the idea of him just sort of waiting around… Which was why she might not get as high a grade on that little assignment tomorrow as she would have liked.

"Um, yeah, I'm pretty sure soon." Lydia agreed, not moving to the door. "Don't come in, I'm getting dressed!" She was already dressed of course, a girl who had a poltergeist like Beetlejuice popping into her room at any given moment, learned to dress quickly, when she used it for that. But there still was her boyfriend to call… "I'll be down in a minute!"

"Okay, honey. I've made snacks." Lydia pursed her lips at that idea. Snacks. Who knew whether Vincent would even be able to eat them. After all their time together, one thing she'd definitely learned about her boyfriend… She could stomach neitherworld treats, a lot better than he could stomach living world ones. And knowing Barbara, there'd be cookies to deal with.

Lydia bit her thumb lightly, as she found herself standing in front of the mirror, wondering again if this was a good idea. Vincent said he could look human, if he needed to. And the only way to make her parents less suspicious over the idea of her sneaking off without their permission, was if they actually spent time together, that they not only knew about, but could supervise.

It was silly, of course. Barbara loved the guy, and so did Adam. Well, what they knew of him, anyway. She wasn't counting out some unconscious kinship over the matter that they were all ghosts… Which also might explain why her mother liked him too. Him being a ghost, that was.

And that leaving the problem… Even not knowing he was dead, her father still didn't like him. And spending time with the guy right under his nose, positively reeked of a bad idea, all around…

"Too late to change my mind now…" She muttered under her breath, reaching out, and tracing her fingertips along the bottom edge of the glass. And a little more certainly, "Vincent?" She focused on the prince in her mind, not the way he looked, but the energy he exuded… So familiar to her from the beginning, despite never being able to put her finger on just why. "It's time. Are you ready?"

The image, her reflection, blurred, then cleared, revealing a young man, perhaps all of nineteen, slouched listlessly in an oversized chair. Disturbingly normal, disturbingly human. Long hair cast across a troubled gaze, lips pursed, slender fingers twitching slowly. Not Vincent in any way she could explain. And yet, unmistakably him.

"Vincent?" She echoed, suddenly not sure the night was such a good idea after all. "Is that really you?" The idea of him, looking like just any living boy… It seemed, wrong somehow.

His eyes flicked up, and a slow, grateful look spread across his features, so familiar that it could be mistaken for nothing else but her boyfriend's. "Lydia…" He murmured, a relieved tone in the name as it fell from his tongue, and he stood, in one smooth motion. He didn't quite go as far as smiling, it would have been purely a nervous smile if he had, but he made a small arc with his hand, indicating himself. "What do you think? Am I… acceptable?"

Lydia didn't answer that right away. It was unsettling, hearing her boyfriend's voice coming from this stranger's mouth… Sure, he looked human. Even handsome, she supposed, for most of the same reasons she found him good looking anyway. But this, it wasn't him. This was…

This just wasn't what she wanted.

Lydia's fingers flared briefly across her lips, and she forced a little smile. "If that's the first good look my parents get at a human you, I think they'll be impressed." She admitted, wondering just how long he'd sat in that chair, waiting for her call. "But, um…"

The prince frowned, easily reading her displeasure. "What is it, my Lydia? You don't like the way I look?"

"Hmm, actually, that's just it." She made a half hearted little gesture of dismissal with her hand, not sure how to tell him that the new magic he'd mastered, just for her, wasn't as welcome as she'd expected. "I like the way you look… And that is not how you look."

She wasn't sure why Vincent's distressed expression faded to one of thoughtfulness, as he considered her… Less sure why he didn't look more upset, at her negating all his hard work. "Look, the disguise is for them." She said at last, not sure herself why it bothered her so much. "Can't you just let me see the real you?"

A slow, strange smile twisted just the edge of Vincent's mouth, and he nodded, slowly. With a gesture that comprised just the tips of the fingers on his left hand, he was standing before her again, looking the way he should look. "Better?" He asked softly.

"Heh, much." Lydia suddenly wanted to avoid his eyes, her cheeks just a trace warmer than usual, and ducked her head a little, so he wouldn't see. God, was she blushing? Beetlejuice would never let something like that go… Thank goodness he wasn't here!

Vincent reached through the glass of the mirror though, and before she could protest, tipped her chin up just a little, considering the girl tenderly. "Why do you look away, my Lydia?" He asked softly, his tone nothing but gentle. "You, of all people, should never lower your eyes from me."

It was so simple, so silly, but the feather touch of his fingertips against her skin, cool as a winter's kiss, raised goosebumps on her. "Yeah," She heard herself murmuring, trying to bluff off the sudden uncertainty that flushed her skin, "I'm not supposed to blush, either." But she was feeling weird around the guy more and more lately, ever since he'd said he loved her… Not that that necessarily had anything to do with it.

"The effect colors your cheeks wonderfully." He said simply. That of course, was about all Lydia could take, brushing his hand away with a little, amused purse of her lips. Vincent, in a way her best friend never would have done, let it go at that. "We're ready then?"

What? No, right. Lydia nodded, clearing her throat, and finally felt able to look at him again. Where had that brief sense of light-headedness come from? She couldn't really be falling for him like that, could she? Oh well, deal with it later… She had more important things to think of.

"Um, don't forget, you have to pull up in a car. Doesn't matter what kind. They just can't think you got here on foot… Or you know, through the mirror." She smiled a little tightly, not from a fluttering stomach this time, but the reality of how many different ways the evening could still go wrong.

"For now." Vincent agreed enigmatically, seeming satisfied to leave it at that. Lydia wanted to protest, but in the next moment, her mirror was empty, and she was left to weigh the meaning of her boyfriend's words alone. For now? Well hell, she supposed it was true, they couldn't keep this whole mess a secret forever…

"At least for tonight…" She muttered to herself, regarding her own reflection in the mirror with her most determined look. "No one is going to find out the truth tonight. I am going to deal with that some other time." The vague sort of 'some other time' that never actually came, hopefully… Like when she'd actually get around to tidying her room.

A low chuckle came suddenly from behind her, thick and genuinely amused. Lydia grimaced, and turned to face the poltergeist, now lounged in midair as usual, doing a slow clap. "What d'ya know… Lyds has got herself a crush on prince not-so-bright!" He murmured, tongue practically dripping sarcasm, as he grinned his ass off.

Lydia's first instinct, oddly, was to deny it, like a third grader confronted on the playground, but she bit her tongue, snorted through her nose, and gave him as unaffected a glance as possible. "You're just now figuring this out?" She muttered, not nearly as put off as she pretended, and in fact, unable to avoid just a trace of her own grin. "Way to go, Beej!"

The poltergeist smirked at her, made a rude gesture with his hand, then sighed, and laid back a little more, on the nothing supporting him. "Don't get me wrong babes, I'm not complaining. I'm sure I can figure some way to make this work for me… Him being the crown shit, and everything. Gotta wonder though… Ain't never seen your ass blush before for anything. This got anything to do with what you said the other day? About you and prince-arino?"

"Urg…" Lydia grunted, swiping her fingers through her bangs. "Hell if I know."

Beetlejuice let this rest a minute, turning it over, before sitting up again. "Come on babes, I know you got plans, but blow this loser off, and you and me'll have some real fun. There's this place running two for one specials on their 'House of Wax Gore…' You'll get some fucking killer pictures! Maybe even sell them, like your old lady does…"

The House of Wax Gore? Beej was right, that sounded great for a little disturbing photography… Way too convenient, that he just think of it now. Lydia shot him an unimpressed look. "And why is this the first time I've heard of the place?" She demanded, not for an instant thinking of cancelling her date. "You're supposed to take me to all the creepiest spots in the neitherworld, and this place somehow just never came up?"

"Huh." The poltergeist's mood seemed to suddenly sour, and he looked off in the distance a little, frowning. "Guess I was waiting for the right time."

"Bullshit." Lydia denied easily, crossing the distance between him, grabbing the ghost's arm gently, and tugging him down to the carpet. "What's really eating you, Beej? You've been acting really weird lately…" A slow look of amusement crossed his features at her words, though he didn't quite smile. "I mean for you! Come on… Spill it!"

Beetlejuice snorted, rolling his head around on his neck in a way that made it seem about to fall off, until he was regarding her with a look of smug disgust. "The hell babes, you expect me to fucking make it easy for him? You deserve better than that… " He licked his thumb, running his fingers through his wiry blonde mess, and gave her a look that seemed to say he expected better of her. "Look, I already know you're fucking crazy about the drip. And hey, hell, that's fine. Told ya, I can use that. But I spent the better part of my life making afterlife hell for those Royals… Ain't breaking tradition now."

"And I suppose someday, you'll tell me why you've got such a grudge against him?" Lydia shook her head as she asked, not really believing it, and not really surprised when he laughed derisively at the idea. "Fine, keep your secrets. I'm going to go downstairs, and I'm going to spend time with my boyfriend, and by this point Beej, all I really expect from you is to give a damn enough about me, not to ruin it."

This stopped his laughter, shortly, and he considered the girl, a sort of weighing in his eyes. Like he was trying to figure out himself, whether or not it was true. Then he smirked, sort of arrogantly, and patted her on the head, dismissing the whole thing as something he no longer wanted to discuss. "You just don't get it, huh? Forget it babes. The whole thing's clearly over your cute little black mop. Just don't go forgetting yours truly, when he tries to put a crown on it."

"Like I could forget you, if I wanted to." She muttered, annoyed by his blatant effort to patronize her, probably to piss her off, since it wasn't like him. "My whole family's still traumatized from the last time you showed up in their lives… I doubt I'd be any different."

At this, Beetlejuice actually looked kind of smug. "You know, you always say the right thing, babes. But I gotta tell you, I'd haunt your ass for the rest of goddamn eternity, you know?"

Clearly it was a compliment… Sort of. "Don't try to sweet-talk me now," She scolded, finally grabbing the box she'd left in the corner until now, and shooting him an amused look, "I told you, I've got a date. We'll do the House of Gore thing another time."

"Humph." His good mood not really spoiled, he flipped her off as she reached for the door, trying not to drop what she was carrying. Of course he made no effort to help, but he was grinning. "House of Wax Gore, babes." Then, as an afterthought, "Wonder what that leggy broad's up to tonight…" And before she could so much as roll her eyes, he was gone. Leaving her to struggle with her box alone.

She set it down, and got the door. Easily solved. Didn't need him for that at all, did she? Still pissed her off, he couldn't even get the door...

No sooner had she reached the top of the stairs, than she almost ran into Barbara, already on her way back up. She had a mischievous twist to her lips, and her eyes were positively glinting. "Guess who's here, Lydia?" She teased, looking as pleased as if it were her own date… Maybe more. "You never told me how cute he was without his make-up…"

Lydia tried not to laugh. This was off to an interesting start… "Come on, Barb. Give me a hand with this stuff, will you?" She tipped the box in the older woman's direction, and easily, her friend caught the old record player balanced precariously on the top.

Barbara eyed the 'antique' with something like nostalgia… Though as far as Lydia knew, the old music player dated even her. "A record player? Where on earth did you find one of these?"

"It wasn't that hard," The girl assured her, trying not to trip over her own feet, as she headed down the stairs. "Lots of groups still release their music on vinyl. Some people apparently love the sound. The records…" She broke off here, as she found herself facing her date, who took the heavy box from her gallantly. Lydia smiled. "Hey, Vincent."

"Hello Lydia." He murmured warmly, balancing the box on one arm, and extending the other to her, to take her hand gently. Apparently not even noticing the weight. To her relief, he looked completely normal… Well, for him. She just couldn't get used to the idea of him trying to look alive. "I hope I didn't keep you waiting…"

"Hmm…" Lydia gave him a studying glance, and wondered to herself which was more unlikely… That the lanky prince was able to lift the heavy box so easily with one arm, or that he could balance it that way without any visible effort on his part. Clearly this was going to be an interesting night of playing, Why no, I didn't notice anything strange just now, did you?

"Nah, I was just getting a couple last minute things straight." She gave his hand a brief squeeze, and let go, leading the way into the living room, and pointedly not looking at any of her parents, gathered around like a pack of… something or other. Waiting to descend, if either one of them screwed up. Of course, maybe it was just her imagination…

With a yank, Lydia grabbed the blanket thrown over the back of the couch, and flipped it, hard, letting the thick softness spread evenly across the floor, before finally turning her attention back to the prince. "Just put that down there. You brought your records too?" Vincent affirmed this, she didn't really pay attention to his exact words, instead acknowledging for the first time, her father, off to one side, pointedly looking at nothing at all.

Lydia felt a stab of irritation, and just a little something like disgust, as quickly as she tried to banish it. But for god's sake, what was his problem with dead people? Everyone died… He'd die too, one day! It had to be the most irrational-assed prejudice she'd ever heard of!

Realizing Vincent wasn't talking anymore, she turned to glance at him, and was met with her date following her line of sight, watching her father with what could be called nothing less than intense dislike. Damn it. Damn it, damn it, damn it. First Beej, now her dad… She caught him by the arm, surprising him from his study of the living man, and gave him a flat, warning glance. She hadn't forgotten yet what Beetlejuice had said about him, boyfriend or not. I am not putting up with this bullshit, she warned him, without a word, Not from my dad, and not from you.

Vincent quickly seemed to get the message, pursing his lips a little, and nodding, taking a small step back, in an unmistakable lowering of arms. Lydia suppressed a sigh, and dutifully did her best to pretend that the exchange hadn't even taken place.

"Okay, so…" She looked around at the rest of her parents, not bothering to mask her thinly pressed patience at them standing around, gawking. "I don't know what all of you are going to do, but we're going to listen to records." A small pause, then, pointedly, "You can stick around, but try not to be weird about this, or I swear, you'll never know when we're hanging out together again."

Her father's reaction was immediate, but not as pronounced as Olivia's… Where he looked angry, clearly about to say something she was more than ready to counter, her mother started laughing, like she found her daughter's display of defiance more humorous than anything. "Really…" She murmured aloud, shaking her head, and without seeming to take any further interest in Lydia's mouthing off, turned her intention to her husband. "You know she takes after you, don't you?"

Edmond looked, more than anything, simply caught off guard by the comparison… Then, slowly, annoyed by the lack of support he seemed to be getting. "How so?" Olivia twisted her lips, shaking her head, and left him there, without another word. "Olivia…" Her father followed, giving up one battle for another.

Adam, watching them go, gave a little, pressed smile, before turning back to his own wife. "Well, let's leave them alone, shall we?" Glancing back at Lydia, "You two behave, because we will be checking up on you."

His wife sighed, and looked patient. "Adam…"

"Don't 'Adam' me." He denied, trying to look stern. "Lydia is still our little girl, and I don't know about you, but I'm not about ready to let her start growing up too fast." The whole effect spoiled, of course, by the twitching of the corners of his mouth, as he tried not to smile. He adjusted his glasses, cleared his throat, and made a point of looking at his watchless wrist. "Well, now that that's settled… Isn't there somewhere else we're supposed to be?"

Lydia felt a little calmer as her old friend winked at her as he left the room, Barb hanging on his arm, and promising cookies to the two as she went. When she turned back to her date though, clearly he didn't know how to take his odd 'welcome.' Lydia shrugged, giving him her most helpless look. "That could have gone worse."

"My Lydia…" Vincent clearly had something on his mind, but suddenly seemed content to busy himself with settling up the record player she'd brought down, and gathering his own pile of, admittedly, rather warped looking records. "Does it not trouble you, that your father seems to dislike me so?"

A little surprised he needed to ask, Lydia considered her boyfriend's back, until he turned back, kneeling on the blanket, without waiting for her. When he looked up, he looked worried. Like he really thought her dad was going to change things between them. "You realize how much of my life is based around stuff they wouldn't like, if they knew I was doing it?" She pointed out, finally settling onto the blanket beside him. "I never even would have met you, if I cared that much about whether or not they liked who I hung out with."

He still looked dubious, but visibly relieved. "I suppose that is true, my Lydia…" For the sake of changing the subject as much as anything, he turned his attention to her box of old music, examining the covers of each album, as he slowly picked through them. Meanwhile, she was examining his neitherworld records too… Blue Corpse Rock… A Tale of Torn Souls… Living the Dead Life…

"So, this is all more modern stuff, right?" She mused, lingering over a surrealistic looking album cover, labeled, Never Wanna Live Again, by the Deathly Visited. "'Cause the stuff I got is all seventies mostly. Bowie, Ozzy…" Vincent lifted his head to listen. "Classics. Usually I listen to more recent bands, but I thought this might be fun too. Everything starts somewhere. Good music as much as anything." She lifted the record in her hand, adding, "But I get to pick first."

Vincent nodded, and set his own 'reading' aside, crossing his hands languidly over his lifted knee. "I can't say it surprises me…" He mused, seeming perfectly willing to accept her seized control, "You've always enjoyed the neitherworld… everything. Certainly, you've adjusted to existence there far more easily than I'd expected, back when we first met."

She supposed that was true. "That, I get from my mom." She assured him, watching as he set the record in place.

The prince lifted his gaze at her words though, and shook his head, firmly. "No." He denied, as if this were simply without question. "I am quite certain by this point, my Lydia… It is uniquely you."

Lydia wasn't sure what to say to that… She still sometimes felt like she'd spent her whole life, trying to escape her mother's shadow. Everything she loved, her mother had loved first. Everything she did, her mother seemed to do better. They even looked alike… Almost eerily so, and not in the good way. Though, admittedly, that was more when she was younger.

But hearing Vincent claim that something, anything, but especially something that meant so much to her, was uniquely her?

She just, didn't know what to say.

Slow, low strains whispered through the air, as the music started, easing into a steady, soft beat, accompanied by oddly seductive female croons. It was neitherworld music, there was no mistaking it for anything else, and it drew her attention from the unintended compliment that her boyfriend offered, albeit slowly.

For a while, they just listened, not taking. Lydia's eyes lidding, as she found herself wondering for the first time, at just how easily she had accepted so many strange new things, so quickly. Most pointedly, someone, her mom had run from as hard as she could. Beetlejuice. How did it always come back to him? Maybe, because it had started with him…

The haunting tones suddenly hit a note that raised the tiny hairs on the back of her neck, and made her arms goose pimple, like they'd been kissed by a ghostly caress. Running her fingers down them, she moved closer to Vincent, instinctively, forgetting that he wouldn't be able to warm her. And when he dropped his arm across her back, and pulled her closer, she'd already forgotten her reason, and just enjoyed the feel of his arms around her.

"Vincent?" She prompted softly, suddenly wanting to hear his voice, as if the music she'd been enjoying a moment before, unsettled her now… Not for any reason she could explain.

"Hmm. What is it, my Lydia?" He murmured, giving her a little extra squeeze, as if he sensed her sudden worry.

"I… don't know." She admitted, before falling silent again. It was a sad song, about a woman trying to go on with her afterlife, while the man she loved went on living, without her. How she watched from the shadows, as he fell in love again, and she tried to be happy for him, while her heart was breaking. The more she listened to it, the more it disturbed her… "Can we listen to something else?"

"Of course." He drew away, just enough to reach for one of her own records, but though she didn't quite look at him, wondering at herself, she was certain he watched her from the corner of his eye. "Perhaps, that wasn't the song to begin with."

A pause, then, "Have you listened to it before?" She asked softly.

Strangely, he didn't answer right away, putting her record in place, and starting it, before reaching for her again. His arm around her, the bottom part of his face tucked into the crown of her head, before she admitted, quietly, "Obsessively, at times." This was all he said on the subject though, before he interrupted, murmuring, "Here comes your mother."

Lydia lifted her head, surprised that her mom would be coming back to check on them so soon… But stubbornly not pulling from Vince's grip. Surprising her further, it wasn't Olivia, but Barb. She turned this over in her head, briefly. She called Barbara her mother in her own mind all the time, but no one else ever had… It caught her off guard a little.

"David Bowie!" Barbara beamed, settling down next to the two like she'd been invited, bearing a heaping plate of frosted chocolate cookies. "I used to have such a crush on that man! …Before I met Adam of course." But it was a belated sort of denial, and her eyes gleamed as she said it, making Lydia giggle, suspecting she'd never really gotten over the crush at all. "So," The ghost woman's eyes turned from one to the other, eagerly, "What are you two talking about?"

Lydia didn't skip a beat, even managing a straight face. "How great my parents are, giving us privacy like this." She lied easily, straightening a little in the prince's arms, before finding a more comfortable position, and relaxing again. "I mean, seriously, most parents wouldn't just let us hang out like this… They'd be hovering over us all the time, saying what a cute couple we are, or asking weird questions…"

Barbara laughed, rocking back on her heels, and getting smoothly to her feet. "I can take a hint… If two need drinks or anything, I'll be in the kitchen."

"That was, an odd exchange." Vincent mused, after a moment's pause, boldly running his fingers through her hair. "Clearly she knew you weren't telling the truth."

"It's called taking a hint. Like she said." Lydia drew from Vincent's embrace, a little reluctantly, though not far enough that they weren't still pressed together. "So… Here's one for you." She lifted her gaze to his, a soft challenge lighting her deep gaze. "Tell me something about you that I don't know."

Vincent considered her, not quite frowning, as he puzzled this through for a hidden meaning. "I'm not certain that serves as a hint." He denied at last, touching his chin lightly. "More of, a request. What did you wish to know?"

"I can make it a hint." Lydia frowned, mildly irritated to realize he was right. "Let's see…" She leaned closer, rested her fingers gently on his arm, giving him doe eyes, and murmured thickly, "Sometimes I feel like you're keeping all the secrets in the neitherworld, Vincent… Like I don't really know you at all, after all this time. I'd love to know something more about you. Something… you trust me enough to tell me."

A slow, amused look crossed the prince's eyes. "Quite manipulative, my Lydia. I am impressed."

Lydia sat back, satisfied, and looked smug. "Thank you." She eyed him at length, when he didn't immediately offer an answer. "So?"

"I'm attempting to answer a question you haven't asked, dear Lydia." He pointed out, lidding his gaze in thought, as he looked off at some point she couldn't see. "It may take a moment to find the right response." Then though, he looked at her again, and if his eyes did seem a little glazed over, they looked thoughtful too. "Something about myself, Lydia… Or something about my family?"

The goth girl rolled this over, for about the length of time it took to get the words out of her mouth. Sure, some gossip about his family might be fun… She was sure he'd make it good… But at the moment, what she wanted to know about was him. "Can I take a rain check on the family thing?" She asked hopefully.

Vincent looked confused. "A, rain check, dear Lydia?"

"Ah… Can I ask again later, and still get an answer?" She clarified, making his expression clear, as he understood. Oddly though, he hesitated a moment, before nodding. She puzzled on that pause, but only briefly. This was getting interesting. "Okay, then tell me about you. Something I don't know."

She didn't understand why a tight expression crossed his lips, but the prince nodded, drawing his knee up a little more, and dropped his head a bit, considering where to begin. "I had hoped you would ask about my family." He admitted quietly. "It would have been, an entertaining tale, if I have learned anything of the sort of stories you like." A brief, clear hesitation, before he went on, agreeing, "Very well then, my Lydia. A secret about me."

Maybe this was a bad idea… She hadn't meant for him to take it so seriously. It really didn't feel like a game anymore, the way Vincent was reacting... Was it something horrible about him? Or something he'd done? She didn't think anything the prince could have done would be horrible… It suddenly did feel like he was hiding something from her… Not just something that had simply never been mentioned, but just as she'd said, a secret.

She wanted to change the subject, but now it was too late… Wasn't it? He considered her from beneath his hanging strands of shadowy black, seriously. "How much do you know about how the neitherworld affects those who dwell there?" He asked, an odd beginning to any deep-seated shame, she couldn't help thinking.

"I… guess I never really thought about it." She admitted, wondering where this was going. "I know it traps the way a person looks when they died, so that doesn't change…"

"But it does." He denied easily, not waiting for her to finish the thought. "You see, Lydia… A person's true character is reflected more and more in their appearance, the longer they dwell there. What has been done by death cannot be undone… But they can be altered further. And those who have never been alive, or faced a mortal end…" A brief clouded look passed his gaze. "All of how we appear, is who we are within. Who we have been. We are, affected from the moment we are born."

Lydia turned this over in her mind, remembering the dance she'd made herself attend the week before. "In that case, there is something seriously wrong with some of the members of your family." She decidedly bluntly, wondering what sort of inner unpleasantness could form anything like some of the creatures she'd seen there that night. "You know that, don't you?" She should probably be more tactful, but Vincent had never been one to worry about tiptoeing around, where his family was concerned…

The prince's lips pursed. "I would think it safe to say, dear Lydia, that there is something wrong, with each and every member of my family." He assured her, somewhat enigmatically.

She considered him for a moment, silently, suspecting that this was where he was going. Something wrong with him. She didn't see anything wrong… Or okay, really, know what to look for. Still, she prompted, giving him permission to go on, "You seem pretty normal." Even if normal was a highly relative term…

A sort of strained smile touched his lips, immediately making her want to look anywhere else. "I am normal, my Lydia… For the neitherworld."

Suddenly, Lydia didn't want to hear anymore. Her life was good, just the way it was. If things were going to change because of some big secret, or get weird… Well, he could tell her some other time. It wasn't like it would be bad… Just make things uncomfortable. And she didn't want that. Her teeth set, in something like a smile, and she shook her head, convincing herself as much as him, and met his gaze firmly. "Look, you know what? Forget it. Let's talk about something else."

Vincent paused, giving her a long look, not of relief, but uncertainty. As if he really had settled to telling her, and she was just throwing his whole plan off now. "I don't understand," He confessed softly, "Did you not ask me…?"

"Look… Yeah… Just, later, okay?" She started busying herself, looking through his pile of records, ignoring her own, though the words written across them failed to offer much meaning to her. They Said We'd Never Die… She had to read it twice for the words to make sense. "I don't want things getting weird." And that didn't make sense, because now things were weird…

A long, long pause, as the prince considered her. "If you say so, my Lydia." He agreed, looking vaguely disappointed… Less in her maybe, than himself.

But she was disappointed in herself. Here he'd been about to make some big confession, something he'd clearly wanted to get off his chest for a while, and here she was, stopping him, just because she was more afraid of what might happen next than he was. And they sat there, the mood for the evening ruined anyway, so close their sides were brushing, and Lydia wanted to be anywhere else. And it didn't make sense.

Lydia's hand traveled listlessly to the plate at her side, offering treats with so much chocolate that it wouldn't all fit inside, and chocolate icing had to be added as well. Still warm. Stupid, stupid, stupid… She'd be better off, just getting it in the open now… Instead she lifted her hand, treat clasped firmly between her fingers, and murmured, distractedly-

"Cookie?"

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