Well, I believe you'll all be happy with how this chapter ends. Teehee.
A round of applause for The Art of Suicide for her meticulous betaing! You da best!
Disclaimr: I do not own Beetlejuice. Waaa.
"Boy! Did I just feel your hand on my backside?" She was beautiful even when she was angry. But she didn't seem that angry at all. In fact, she seemed to be suppressing a smile.
She was older than him, but just about of marrying age at most. She was obviously of higher status, though most were, for a Manzer foundling had no status at all. He had seen her come to the market with her mother every Sunday after mass.
"Be you a pickpocket or are your manners simply atrocious?" She demanded.
Well, he was a pickpocket in training, but that had nothing to do with pinching her backside. Thoroughly ashamed, he hung his head.
"My apologies, miss." He said as she shuffled his feet.
She seemed to pity him, for she was no longer angry. "What is your name, boy?"
"I've no name, miss." He admitted.
She furrowed her brow in confusion and his heart almost failed him.
"What do they call you, then?"
"All manner'a things," he said with a guilty grin.
She laughed. He would surely die now from the beautiful sound.
"I can only imagine." She considered him a moment then pulled out her coin purse. "Here," she said as she gave him some coin "there is a carnival. You would have a merry time there."
He opened his hand and felt her fingertips touch his filthy skin as she left the coin in his palm.
"Will you be attendin'?"
"Indeed I will," she winked and then walked away.
Betelgeuse awoke with a start and felt sickened by his dream. He hadn't thought about her in centuries.
Rhoslyn. Ugh, why? Because you've been rubbin' up on the breather too much. That's what'cha get, dumbass.
He jolted to his feet at the thought of Lydia. He had no idea how long he'd been out. He snapped his fingers and she was revealed. Still sleeping in the sleeping bag with her arms wrapped around the stuffed snake. He smirked at her innocent form and then checked his watch.
Six a.m. Not great for a full recharge, but it'll do.
He sat back down and leaned against the tree behind him. He pulled his hat from his head, pulled the placard off, and turned it over. Scrying was a cinch, but at that moment he wasn't sure where to start looking. He decided to start with the Deetz residence. He had a clear path there now, so it was the easiest place to look and wouldn't take too much energy.
Barbara was cleaning ferociously and Adam was reading the handbook and taking notes. The Deetzes were nowhere to be found. He needed directions. He needed more mirrors. Lydia didn't have much time. He wasn't worried though. He knew exactly who he needed to see if he was still around.
What the fuck?
He watched Lydia, apparently still asleep, moving and…
An evil grin split his features as he realized what was transpiring.
Chris was in her room in Winter River. He was slowly making his way around scrutinizing her work that adorned her walls. He looked so sexy with his round butt and wide shoulders. Lydia found some courage and walked towards him. She pinched his cute ass and he whirled around. His smile was perfect.
"Did you just pinch my ass, Deetz?" He asked playfully.
She frowned a bit at his use of her last name. She thought they were past that. She moved closer and placed her hand on his chest. She traced the contours of the muscles there before pushing him so hard that he fell back on her bed.
"Easy girl," he laughed.
She was beyond horny. She'd never felt this hungry for sex in her life. She didn't know how, but they were already naked. The sensations were strange. She could feel, but it wasn't like she remembered. It was overwhelming. She needed to fuck. Now. When she looked at him again- it was him. Wild blonde-greenish hair. Dark circles around his eyes. Pale white skin with patches of moss or mold, who knows what the fuck, and she wanted him. Now. He looked at her with hunger in his eyes as she brought herself down on him, hard.
And it was over. And over with a bang. It was an instantaneous orgasm that made her see stars. She moaned in her sleep. Wait. Sleep?
Lydia gasped awake, her orgasm sill lingering as her solar plexus throbbed in pleasure.
Oh, fuck. Thank Christ that was a-
"Gah!" Lydia screamed as she turned her face to see the stuffed snake before her. Flailing her arms she tried to get up but was tangled in her sleeping bag. Legs basically tied up, she fell over face first into the dirt. Then she heard it. Betelgeuse's wild cackle filled the air.
Face streaked with dirt, she looked up to see him desperately gripping onto a bag of popcorn. He was thrown on his back, legs in the air, laughing like he belonged in the looney bin with popcorn strewn all over the place. She growled and punched the ground.
"You. Asshole!"
He kept laughing as his words came out broken between squeals and coughing.
"You. Oh man! That was… amazing… the look… on your… face!"
"You did it, did it didn't you?" She yelled while she scrambled to her feet. She kicked the sleeping bag away and had every intention of kicking him next.
His laughter was dying off as she charged in his direction. His eyes were still closed as he tried to compose himself.
"Who was the lucky schmuck, Lyds? BAHAHAHA!" He lost it again, but Lydia stopped in her tracks.
He… wait. What?
"What do you mean?" She was confused. He didn't know? Wasn't he responsible?
"One second… you're all… moanin' and dry humpin' and shit." He laughed some more. "The next-" he mocked her by imitating her scream with her own voice and flailing his arms. He started cackling away again.
Lydia was mortified. Her moans had been heard and she had been gyrating too. What had she been humping exactly? She turned around and spotted the stuffed snake on the ground. Her eyes were about to drop out of her sockets.
She had a wet dream with Betelgeuse and it was technically her doing. Not his.
She thought about running or digging a hole and climbing in it, but instead, she started laughing too.
For a moment, Betelgeuse was caught off guard completely and stared at her like she belonged in an asylum. Just as suddenly he threw his head back again and literally rolled on the floor choking on his own laughter.
…
…
After their hysterics had worn off, Betelgeuse was humming with energy. He marveled at the girl's sense of humor. It should have been embarrassing for her. She should have chewed him out for laughing at her, but she had laughed right along with him. Her sense of self was so intact, that she could laugh at her own expense. Not many had that capability and it won her even more points from him than being a medium did.
"Don't we need to get going?" She finally croaked after a final snicker.
"Yep. I think I got enough juice to send us to the next destination."
"A hospital in Connecticut I hope?"
"Nope, a fun house." He looked at Lydia's confused face and waggled his eyebrows. "Come on let's blow this joint!" He grabbed her hand and yanked her up to stand.
She dusted herself off. He spread his arms wide and gave her a leer.
"Come to daddy." He purred.
Lydia scrunched up her face in distaste and walked into his personal space without touching him. He rolled his eyes and moved closer to her, wrapping his arms around her. He pretended to be trying to find a good purchase on her for traveling purposes, muttering something about 'better safe than sorry,' then looked down at her.
She was avoiding his gaze completely.
"You know," he said sensually,"I could get used to this."
Lydia sighed in frustration. "Can we go already?"
"Okay, okay." He closed his eyes and a tree cracked in half making Lydia jump in his embrace.
Well, that felt nice, he thought.
Lydia turned her head and saw a gaping hole in the tree that had cracked. She put two and two together very quickly and stomped on his foot. He yelped, jumped back and hopped on one leg, exaggerating because she hadn't stomped too hard.
At least, not as hard as I should have.
"You clown!" She tried to look mad at him for jerking around, but she couldn't help but feel amused. He was like no one she ever knew. No one she currently knew. Alive or dead.
"Nope," he said as he held up a finger, "but close." He winked at her, grabbed her by the arm, and led her through the split in the tree.
Bartholomew sat at his desk, completely and utterly humiliated. He blamed Betelgeuse. Every major indignity he had ever suffered was his fault. He wanted him gone, had prayed for his exorcism centuries ago when his former colleagues were been fed up with him as well.
However, only the living could exorcise the dead. The last time Betelgeuse got in any real trouble with the living, it didn't take. He had been so close. Unfortunately, he escaped his fate, he had escaped his prison, and now he'd escape punishment again.
Bartholomew had worked so diligently to keep everything in order. Once again, he was not recognized for his hard work. Instead, Juno would get a promotion. Not he.
He slammed his fist hard on his desk, splintering it to pieces. Then a phone appeared in the mess. It rang until he answered it.
"Hello?"
"Call from, Adam and Barbara Maitland. Do you wish to be connected?" said an operator.
"Yes," he replied dejectedly.
"Hello, is this sector eight?" Adam's voice blared through the receiver.
"Yes. Why are you calling," he said annoyed.
"My name is Adam Maitland and I'm calling to request a visitation pass to see Lydia Deetz. She should be in your facility. You see, she was in an accident-"
"Yes, yes. I know. All visitations have been postponed until repairs can be made to our barrier. Goodbye." Before Bartholomew could hang up, Barbara's voice pleaded with him.
"Please. Please, sir. She's our goddaughter. We just want to know she's okay."
Bartholomew knew he couldn't deny visitations. Ripped barrier or no, he had no authority to keep family at bay. He couldn't get into more trouble.
"All right, Mr. and Mrs. Maitland. Please hold. I need to make sure she wants to see you."
"Wait!"
"Hold please." He placed them on hold and called his assistant. "Victor? Yes, could you please send for Lydia Deetz?"
"Sure thing, boss."
"Thanks a bunch."
He drummed his fingers on his armchair and imagined sticking a hot poker in one of Betelgeuse's eyes. The phone rang again."Yes, Victor?"
"Deetz… isn't here."
Bartholomew leaned forward in his chair. "What do you mean?"
"We called her number, her name, she's not here."
Instead of becoming angry, but Bartholomew smiled. "Thank you, Victor." He switched to the other line. "Mr. and Mrs. Maitland? I'm afraid I have some horrible news." His smile widened.
He knew he had brought them to the right place, but it all seemed wrong. He looked around and saw the swamplands in the distance, but smack in the middle was a bar. And it was hoppin'. Normally, he'd waltz right in and have a good time, but-
That's exactly what I'm gonna do.
He started walking towards it, but Lydia pulled on his arm.
"This place looks," she eyed her surroundings suspiciously "it's..." she couldn't find the right words.
Betelgeuse looked around again and saw nothing out of the ordinary, then he remembered.
"What? All the dead folks?"
The ghosts were just being themselves, but their trauma was plastered on them in the way they appeared. It looked like a Halloween party, only the patrons weren't wearing costumes. They were wearing their deaths.
Betelgeuse almost felt insulted that Lydia, of all people, would be frightened of them. But when he looked around yet again, he realized something else.
"You've never seen ghosts like this." It wasn't a question. He thought of the Maitlands. "The two stooges back home are the only ghosts you know."
He felt his mood dip considerably.
"And you," she said quietly, looking ashamed. She had obviously read his disappointment.
He saw her lip quiver for just a moment before she sucked it in to conceal it as she brought a hand up to her stomach. He mentally kicked himself for making her feel inadequate. Why were his expectations of her so high? He hadn't had such confidence in anyone or anything in god knows how long. When had he placed her on a pedestal?
"It's all right, kid." He tried to sound encouraging, but even he caught the condescending tone beneath. "They're just deadbeats. Just don't talk to anyone," he warned. "No one can know you're still breathin', got it?"
He sounded so serious that Lydia nodded her head and cast her eyes down.
"You can look, just don't stare. And try not to breathe too… obviously when you're not talkin.' I don't think it'll give you away, but they'll wonder."
She nodded again without looking him in the eye.
Aw fuck. She's pissed. Damn it, asshole. Now ya gotta fix it.
He tried to think of a reason why he shouldn't care, but it wasn't coming to him. So, he cringed a bit at the solution that presented itself in his mind.
Nah, she won't go for that. I mean maybe she might. Just ask, stupid.
"Do ya dance?" He blurted out. He had meant for it to come out with his usual jeer, but it sounded more like he was losing his patience.
Lydia looked like she could have paled. Or blushed. "Uh, not really."
"All right, whatever let's just go inside." He muttered and started walking to the entrance.
Lydia practically ran after him and laced her arm around his. He looked down at her arm like it was an alien appendage. She noticed but didn't withdraw. Her other arm shot to her stomach again. He was about to comment on it when she started speaking.
"There's a lot of people here. Don't want to get separated." She reasoned. He gave her a curt nod and they entered the bar.
If Lydia had been overwhelmed outside, she didn't what she was now that she was inside. Betelgeuse was leading her through the thick crowd of victims. That's how she saw them. That's why she was so uncomfortable. It wasn't the gore that really bothered her, it was the reality of it. These were people. People who had died in some of the most horrific ways she'd only ever seen in movies.
She kept bumping and squeezing through people, apologizing and excusing herself. She was grabbing onto Betelgeuse's arm for dear life. Literally.
And what the fuck was that anyway? He can touch and grab me all he wants, but I can't touch him? And he called me 'kid' again. I'm not a fucking kid.
His mood had shifted so suddenly, that it had frightened her some. She thought maybe it was because they were no longer alone and they were in danger of being discovered. But then she thought back.
He definitely looked at me weird when he realized I haven't seen any other ghosts since… then.
Her solar plexus tightened painfully just thinking about it.
She had vague memories of what she thought was ghost activity when she was younger, but complete apparitions never happened until Winter River. She had often wondered why at sixteen she was suddenly able to see Adam and Barbara and why she'd never seen another ghost after Betelgeuse. She had tried to look into it but never found a concrete answer. After a while, life caught up with her it was no longer important. But after that look he gave her, she wondered if that was normal. Wondered if something was wrong with her after all.
There's nothing wrong with you. He's just an asshole. Maybe it was something else completely and you're overreacting. Why do you even care?
But she did care. He'd gotten under her skin and she didn't even know when it had happened. She had shared more laughs and adventures with him in a day than she'd ever shared with her own friends in four years of college.
That's just not right.
The back of his head looked smug. She wanted to smack it.
Motherfucker.
Then, he looked over his shoulder at her… and smiled. Her solar plexus fired up immediately. It had been genuine. Like the weird episode just moments ago had never happened. It drove her insane.
What the hell is wrong with him? A lot. There's a lot wrong with him. Then why do I like him? She almost choked. I like him?
The truth was not easy to swallow. She liked him. She liked him and thought he was…
No. good lord, Lydia, no. Don't even think it. Don't even-
She thought he was cool.
NOOOOOOOOOOOO!
She needed a wall to bash her own head in with and knife to cut her gut out with.
There is definitely something wrong with you.
He led them to a small booth in the back.
"Wish this place was here back in the day! Woo! The music, the atmosphere, I'm lovin' it!"
He was back to his crazy self.
"Ooo. Um, I'm gonna make some inquiries, if ya know what I mean." He snorted and left her at the booth.
She turned to watch him leave as he made his way to the bar. He ordered something and then started flirting with the bartender. She was a blue-skinned, voluptuous redhead, wearing what seemed to be a very skimpy outfit and a tie. The tie didn't seem right to Lydia, then she realized it was way too tight around her neck… oh. But it didn't seem to bother Betelgeuse who was clearly coming onto her.
Lydia rolled her eyes and glowered. What you're gonna get jealous now too? She chided herself as she forced herself to turn around and focus on something else.
Then a grey-skinned man approached the booth and set down a drink in front of her. He was handsome. Clearly dead, but handsome. He was very thin, but dressed well and had a nice full head of jet black hair. He looked her age too.
I'm at a bar. The jerk is having fun, so can I.
She smiled up at the man and thanked him for the drink.
"Hello, miss. My name is Vince." He held out his hand for hers. She smirked at the formality of it all and placed her hand in his. He kissed it ever so gently.
"I'm Lydia." Oh shit. Should I have said that? Fuck.
"Miss Lydia, it is a pleasure to make your acquaintance."
He was waiting for her to invite him to sit, but she wasn't sure she should let him. She decided on friendly conversation instead.
"You come here often?" Way to sound smooth, dweeb.
"Only when I need to get away. It's one of the few places I don't own. It's nice to be someplace where I don't have to worry about running things."
She internally rolled her eyes but smiled at him anyway. She tried to look casual as she looked over her shoulder to see if Betelgeuse was watching. She tried not to look too smug when she saw that he was. He looked curious more than anything. She gave him a mischievous little smirk, then turned away again.
Betelgeuse kept watching the interaction. He could have sworn he'd seen the guy before, but he couldn't place where. Then he noticed Lydia's body language.
Well now, look at the little minx go.
There was no time to think about how her flirting with the handsome douche made him feel because she picked up a cocktail he hadn't noticed before.
"Oh, fuck!" he yelled. He ran for it, completely forgetting himself for a moment. Then she brought the glass to her lips and he finally realized he could just make it disappear.
But it didn't disappear. The glass had shattered right on her mouth and its contents splattered everywhere. When he finally reached her, he pushed the young douche out of the way and yanked Lydia out of the booth.
Lydia was too shocked to register what was happening. Betelgeuse had his hands on her face squeezing her cheeks together forcing her mouth open.
"Are ya outta your fuckin' mind!" He shrieked. She fought down the pain in her midsection as tears welled up in her eyes. "Did you drink it? Did any of it go down?"
He was looking inside her mouth like he'd find the answers to his questions there. She looked him straight in the eyes to yell back at him when she saw it. A look of pure terror on his face. He hadn't even looked that frightened when the sandworm had come crashing through the ceiling to devour him. She was stunned into confusion.
What did he ask me? Did I drink it? The cocktail?
"No, no. I don't think so." She said hurriedly feeding off his fear.
They both stood stock still when they realized they were making a scene. With Lydia's face still pinched between his hands, Betelgeuse looked around at the gathering crowd and started to nervously chuckle.
"Isn't she adorable?" he yelled over the music. They kept staring. He cleared his throat, then he did the only thing he could to make the situation look normal.
He planted one on her.
