Beetlejuice… Will you be mine? May I possess you, heart, body and soul, rights and legalities? No? Well, it seems that I still don't own Beetlejuice… Too bad. Probably don't own Lydia either…
--
'WHUMP!' Something collided with her mattress, hard, making her bounce into the air, as a voice hissed, not two inches from her ear, "Will you wake up already? I'm sick of fucking waiting!" Lydia was already shrieking from the suddenness of her wakeup call, she didn't need to open her eyes, straight from sleep, and find herself almost nose to nose with the ghost with the most. She screamed again, this time louder.
"Shit!" Beetlejuice stumbled back, hands clamped over his ears, looking annoyed. "What the hell, I just-" He broke off suddenly, vanishing from sight as both Barbara and Adam came straight through the ceiling, making no mind for doors.
"Lydia!" It was Adam yelling. Adam never yelled. "Are you all right?"
Her heart going a mile a minute, Lydia took a moment to realize that it had in fact, been Beetlejuice who'd woken her so suddenly, not some creature from a rather nasty horror flick she wanted to forget. Beetlejuice, who the Maitlands couldn't know about. Her tongue felt tied up in a lump at the back of her throat, but she blinked, already looking for an excuse.
Fortunately, she didn't have to think of one. "Nightmare, sweetie?" Barb murmured, determining that there was no immediate reason for her to scream like that, and looking decidedly relieved. She looked like she'd been more scared than Lydia…
"Um, yeah." Lydia whispered, her senses slowly returning to her. As such, she couldn't quite resist a small smile, and a weak attempt at humor. "The thing that came from the laundry pile…"
Barb sighed, and looked amused, though just barely. "Well, you should be up already anyway. You have to get ready for school." Glancing at the clock, Lydia saw that she was right. She'd forgotten to set her alarm, and the poltergeist had let her sleep in… About five minutes.
Once alone again, her eyes panned the room wildly, finally coming to a stop just to the side of her wardrobe, where, she wasn't sure why she was so certain of this, Beetlejuice was standing. "Don't ever," She growled, still annoyed, "Do that again!"
Beetlejuice just faded into sight, looking endlessly amused. "Hell kid, you got a set of lungs on you, you know that?" He wriggled his finger in his ear, pulled out something disgusting and shapeless, and flicked it off to the side. Lydia prayed she never found it. "Thought you were the quiet type…" He cast a little half grin at her, adding, "So come on, give me the details!"
Details? Slowly her memory of the night before returned, and any lingering irritation with the poltergeist vanished, as a smile crept across her face. He wanted details? The hell with him. Those were her memories. Instead she tilted her head, narrowing her eyes as she realized something. "How did you get back on this side?" She asked warily.
Grunting, Beetlejuice gave her a long look, letting her make no mistake that he knew she was changing the subject. "You called yourself back with my name, babes. Seems like that calls me back too, same time. And I gotta tell you… You gotta helluva timing! I was this close to-" And here he paused, looking at her again, and then using one of her own tactics against her, abruptly changed the subject. "So, you have fun?" He asked, giving her a decided leer. "Mr. Morbid and Depressing put the moves on you?"
Lydia made a small sound, humor or disgust, there was no way to tell. "I knew you were that perverted." She grumbled, finally getting out of bed, and allowing herself a small stretch. "And for your information… No, all he did all night was hold my hand." He made a little, scornful sound, and muttered something about spineless types, and wasted opportunity.
Ignoring him, Lydia started looking for a clean uniform, glad that she didn't have to try to find something different to wear every day. Not that she didn't have her own style, and enjoy it when she could show it off… But 'her own style' would probably make school life that much more unbearable.
"Anyway, what do you care?" She challenged him, holding a semi-intact skirt out at arm's length. She went through these uniforms like anything… Usually thanks to Claire and her goons. Of course, that probably wouldn't be a problem anymore, she reflected, enjoying that fact more than she really should have. Still… "Do I have one outfit left that's not totaled?" She muttered to herself, reaching for a different one.
Beetlejuice was considering her from his usual spot, what passed for a thoughtful look etched on his features. "You know babes, when you get a few years older, and a little…" He made a gesture at his chest with his hands. "That little school girl uniform is gonna look positively indecent on you!"
Looking at him in surprise at the statement, Lydia suddenly grew very warm, grabbing the nearest thing she could lay her hands on, which happened to be said uniform, and began beating him over the head with it. "Stop thinking that!" She laughed, more amused that angry. "You disgusting, filthy, perverted…!"
The ghost covered his face with his hands, but he was cackling too. "What? It's a compliment, you psycho little bitch!" As she proceeded to beat him, he finally gave up protecting himself, and vanished altogether, leaving her staring at the empty spot where he'd been. From his new place on the bed behind her, he noted. "I'm just saying, babes…"
Lydia cut him off with a sound of exasperation, grabbing her clothes, and marching out of the room with them. She'd get dressed in the goddamn bathroom…
She didn't see Beetlejuice again when she emerged, which she was already beginning to realize was somewhat of a mixed blessing. It meant she didn't know what he was up to… She swore, if she caught him straddling her mom in the yard again!
Things seemed to have descended into some level of normalcy in her family again, as she joined them for breakfast. As normal as things ever were anyway. The meal passed uneventfully, other than a warning from her mother to come straight home from school, since she was still grounded. It was all Lydia could do, not to make a face at that. They wanted to keep her out of trouble. They really had no clue what she considered 'trouble' these days…
And she sure as hell wasn't going to tell them, she reflected, already looking forward to what would almost certainly be another night of breaking rules. What they didn't know though… It was all she could do, not to laugh with the secret she kept. But that would spoil everything… And this was one good thing, she was determined not to see spoiled.
--
"So, I don't know if he likes me, I mean likes me, or if he's still hung up over his old girlfriend!" Bertha complained with a sigh, straightening her book bag on her back. "But did you see how good he looked today, Prudence? I mean, maybe he's out of my league, what do you think?" Prudence gave some unintelligible reply, at least to his bored ears, and Bertha nodded vehemently. "Exactly! What if…?"
Beetlejuice was about ready to pull him hair out… Or at least give one of them a good juicing. "Enough!" He snapped, turning furious eyes on the girl who wouldn't shut up. Why exactly had he thought that walking Lydia home from school was a good idea? "Talk about something else, before I light your hair on fire!"
An awkward sort of silence followed this, while Lydia did her best to look disapproving, and managed nothing so much as relieved. Then Bertha, fount of gossip, began again. "Did you see the new transfer student in the boy's school? I think he's in the ninth grade, but I don't know what his name is…" Beetlejuice adjusted his sleeves, ready to make good on his promise, when her next words stopped him in his tracks. "I think he totally has the hots for you, Lydia! I swear I saw him staring when we passed by…"
Finally, something interesting, if only because it would make the goth girl squirm. Beetlejuice grinned, and gave Lydia a long look, daring her to find a flippant way out of that one. The girl though, just ducked her head, ran her fingers through her hair, and denied flatly that she'd noticed.
"Come on! He was so cute! If I was a few years younger…" Bertha got a dreamy look in her eyes, and abruptly seemed to forget she was talking, staring ahead into space so intently that she almost ran into a lamppost. Disappointingly, Prudence, who seemed to be paying no more attention to her surroundings than the other girl, reached up and yanked her out of the way at the last moment. Bertha didn't even seem to notice.
Bored again, Beetlejuice was wondering how he could turn the conversation his way, when abruptly, both girls seemed to shake their sense of utter obliviousy, and determine that they had to take a different route, the rest of the way home. "Goodbye Lydia! Goodbye Mr. Beetleman!" He still almost fell over laughing at the alteration to his name, but waved absently, glad to see them go.
"Honestly babes, how do you stomach those two so long?" He demanded, and then, before she could answer, just when she thought he might have forgotten, he grinned, and jumped in with something different. "So, you and Vincent…" He still seemed to delight in saying the name, for whatever reason. "Come on, you gotta give me something… Throw a dog a bone?"
He reached into his chest as he said this, and pulled out what looked like a rib, twirling it slightly, before it disappeared into vapor. "I got a hook into the hottest gossip in the Neitherworld, and you won't even give me a hint?" He gave his best puppy dog look, which was, admittedly, quite disturbing.
Lydia reached out, shoving his face, which was unsettlingly close, back just a bit. "What's to tell?" She grinned, well aware that there was really nothing to tell, but that he wouldn't believe that. Pretending she was just saying it to drive him crazy was, well, driving him crazy, and fun. "We took a carriage ride… The horse was seriously freaky… And we had a picnic. Real world food and everything."
He just gave her a long look, certain she was keeping something truly juicy from him. In the end, Lydia could only laugh, and at this, he looked affronted. Realizing maybe she'd pushed him a bit too far, Lydia cast him a glance from the corner of her eye, and decided, indeed, to throw a dog a bone. "I'm going to see him again this Friday, you know."
Beetlejuice's eyebrows flew up, and he considered her with a positively leering expression. "I knew it babes, I knew you were leaving the good stuff out… So come on, what'd you let him do, to make him ask you out again?"
"I'm not you Beej, and neither is he." She informed him flatly, tiring a bit of her game. "He didn't so much as try to kiss me. And I don't know if I would have let him if he did. Maybe." She shrugged. "As much as seeing you pull your hair out is fun, really Beej, nothing happened."
Finally he seemed to believe her, looking disappointed. "Well hell, why didn't you just say so to begin with?" He muttered, annoyed to have wasted his time. "Kid, if you're not gonna be any fun, I am not wasting my time trying to make you something you're not." He snapped his fingers then, and abruptly she was walking alone.
She was annoyed with the ghost, until she realized that her house was in sight, and it was probably best for all concerned if they weren't seen walking together. She hoped to avoid her parents altogether… If she was lucky, the living ones were out. Of course, Adam and Barbara were always there, that couldn't be helped. Still, if she could at least get to her room without being noticed, that would be a good start.
No such luck. No sooner had she stepped in the front door, than Adam looked up from where he was sorting the mail, why she didn't know, and gave her an appraising look. "On time, so no detention… No new bruises either… Could it be you actually didn't get into trouble today?"
That was, she thought, positively unfair. She did not get into trouble every day… Not that he knew, anyway. She just gave him a measured look, and after a moment, his lips twitched in amusement. He gave her a pat on the head, like she was still five or something, and noted, "You can't blame me for being relieved. Now, try to keep it up, and we'll all be happier."
Lydia made a small, rude sound, which Adam gallantly ignored, going back to the mail. "Liv!" He called suddenly, making her wilt, as any ideas of escaping without further drama was lost. "Looks like that response you were waiting for came! The one about your photos?"
Her mom's photos. Lydia grimaced. Another area where she could never match up to the older woman. Olivia floated down the stairs, there really was no other word for it, an excited look flashing in her eyes. It only faltered a moment when she saw Lydia… But then she forced a smile, and came the rest of the way down, accepting the envelope.
"This is the biggest magazine you've ever submitted for!" Adam noted, as Lydia tried to take the moment to sneak away. "If your photo has been accepted…!"
They were all interrupted, at that moment, by the doorbell ringing. For a moment, it was as if they couldn't possibly have heard that, her parents even looked confused. Next to no one came to visit them… And Lydia was baffled as well. If there was someone out there with her, close enough to be there now, she should have noticed.
Her mother answered the door, as Adam answering it would have left too many questions for whoever was on the other side. Lydia too stuck around, just long enough to see what was going on.
There were two men on the other side of the door, looking, to say the least, haggard and worn, dressed in mismatching clothes, with a large antique desk sitting between them. "Delivery for Lydia Deetz?" The taller one muttered, in an unfamiliar accent, holding out a clipboard for signing.
Olivia blinked, then turned, and looked at her daughter, who honestly had no more clue than she did. Seeing this, she turned back to the two men, ready to explain that there had been some mistake, only to have the clipboard thrust under her nose again, and the words repeated, a bit more impatiently. "Delivery for Lydia Deetz?"
"Um, I'm Lydia Deetz…" The girl offered hesitantly, only to have the form now waved under her nose. Distinctly aware of her mother's stare, she accepted the pen he thrust forward in his other hand, and signed her name at the bottom. She still had no idea what was going on… Until she saw the other familiar name on the paper. 'Vincent.' 'Vincent Royal,' no less. She swore for a minute that she forgot to breathe.
"Where do you want it?" The shorter man asked, it apparently being his turn to speak. The two were already lifting the desk, so she gestured them forward absently, even as she put the signed delivery form on top of it.
Neither one of her parents spoke as she led the men to the stairs… But things became even more strange, for them at least, when Barbara appeared at the top, and was in distinct danger of being run over by them… Only for the short man, in front, to stop, and nod to her briefly. "Excuse us ma'am." He greeted her cursorily, making the surprised ghost woman step aside for them. The taller man said nothing, not even looking in her direction. But it did give Adam and Barb something to murmur over in low tones, as Lydia continued leading them to her bedroom.
Lydia of course, knew exactly why the man had been able to see Barbara… He was a ghost too. Fortunately, the unusualness of a guest being able to see Barbara caught her own mother's attention as she would have followed them up the stairs, preventing her from seeing Lydia's doorway suddenly yawn widely to accommodate the large desk, which otherwise would have never fit through it. Lydia herself was left blinking a little in puzzlement at the sight, though she was forced to recover quickly, as she was asked again where she wanted it.
As it turned out, it fit smoothly between her dresser and her wardrobe, both of which admittedly inched aside to make room for the heavy wooden furniture, but then accommodated each other easily along the wall opposite the foot of her bed. The tall man reclaimed his form, glanced it over, and nodded at her tersely. "Everything seems to be in order here… Pleasure doing business with you."
"Um, wait, am I supposed to tip you?" She asked uncertainly. "Because I've only got a few dollars right now, but…"
"Already taken care of." The short man assured her, scratching at what she suddenly saw was a bullet wound to his head. "We wouldn't hear the end of it if we tried to take money from you… Royal himself gave us a healthy tip for delivering so far out of our usual range." And he too waved dismissively. "Pleasure doing business with you." And the two proceeded to go back the way they came.
Lydia rushed after them, to see Barbara shyly curl her fingers at the one who'd spoken to her before. He smiled and tipped his hat, while stubbornly, the other still refused to acknowledge anyone, now that his form was signed. "It was nice meeting you!" Barbara called after them, still thrilled to have met someone else who could see her for a change.
And now of course, came the question of where the desk had come from, as she knew it would. All three of her present guardians turned to her in puzzlement, while her mind raced desperately, and futilely, for a lie. She really needed to get better at this…
"Guess he didn't want the desk after all." She muttered at last, deciding on her deception. Giving her mother a chance to question this, she walked over to the desk itself, and admired it at length. It really was beautiful… An amazing shade of deep red, with sides sharply jutted up in the shape of carved bat wings, elegant sweeping curves, and a smooth polished finish that look new, though there was no doubt that the desk itself was anything but. "He said he was probably going to take it with him."
"Who?" Adam prompted, her mother for now, remaining silent, as she too admired the new piece of furniture. "Someone you know?"
No, someone I don't know… Lydia's mouth twisted to hold in the smart ass reply, as she nodded slowly, still not turning to face them. "This guy from the boy's school… I don't know him that well. Vincent. He said his family was moving, and he had to get rid of a bunch of stuff. He asked me if I needed anything, and I said that the only thing I didn't have was a desk."
She paused, letting this sink in, before continuing her lie. "He said he had one, but was probably going to take it with him. Guess he changed his mind." Then, appreciatively, she added, "I had no idea it was this nice."
"It is nice," Her mother agreed, running her hand over the finish lightly, "You shouldn't have agreed to accept it." Then, pausing for a moment of though, she suddenly prompted, "How well do you know this boy, exactly?"
"I only met him a couple of times." Lydia answered honestly, relieved that this at least, didn't have to be a lie. Every time she told one, she got the distinct feeling of wrapping herself further and further into a mass of spider strings… She was going to twist herself to pieces, one of these days. "He seemed nice. I think he might have liked me. But he'd be gone by now…" Again, true enough. Sort of.
"Hmm." Her mother accepted the deception, a bit reluctantly she thought, and finally shook her head. Simply unable to find flaw with her daughter's story. "Well you better take good care of it. This desk is obviously old… And it would be a shame to let something so beautiful get ruined. I didn't even know you wanted a desk though…"
Of course not. Because whenever she brought it up, her mother changed the subject. Just like with her bike. "Well, I've got one now." She noted, more pleased by this than she cared to admit. Especially since it seemed she'd gotten away with it. But she would have to have a serious talk with Vincent.
That could come later though. For now… For now it was good.
--
The new desk was heaven. She loved just sitting at it, running her hands slowly over its smooth surface. She'd been doubly delighted to open one of the drawers, and… She didn't know how, have a full sized matching chair pop out at her, all layered in the same crushed velvet she'd admired the night before. For the moment, she didn't worry about having to explain that too… It was comfortable. And she swore she'd hug Vincent the very next time she saw him.
But in the end, the desk was really for doing homework, and this was exactly what she was deep into doing, when Beetlejuice decided to pop in to pay a visit… And jumped about two feet into the air with a sound of outrage, as the shifting of furniture caused him to come down squarely on one of the sharp bat wings of her new desk, rather than his usual place on the dresser.
"What the hell?" He snapped, landing on the floor with a baffled, pissed off expression on his face. "Why'd you go and move the damn…?" And this was as far as he got, before he noticed her newest acquisition. His eyes widened, and a low whistle escaped his lips. "Whoa, not bad, babes. Where'd you get the fancy writing set?"
"Vincent…" She said slowly, ear sharp for any sound that might say he'd been overheard. "I made the mistake of telling him that I didn't have a desk… And he decided to do something about it." She made a little face. "It was sweet and everything, but…"
"But nothing, babes!" Beetlejuice grinned, a look that made her suspect that what he had to say next would be anything but welcome. "Come on, I'll give you a list of things to tell him you don't have… We'll split it down the middle, fifty-fifty! I say we start with jewels…" A low cackle escaped him, once again making her wonder just how serious he was. But then, this did involve money, so he probably was.
"I am never suggesting that there's anything I need to Vincent, ever again." She denied flatly, hoping to cut this suggestion off in the bud. "I just had what looks like a century old writing desk in perfect condition, delivered by a couple of dead guys-"
"Hey, babes." Beetlejuice cut her off with a frown. "Dead guys? I didn't expect you to be the kind of girl who says racial shit like that…"
"Racial?" Lydia frowned, puckering her brow. "How is saying 'dead guys,' anything racial?"
"Well, hell." He rocked back on his heels a little, crossing his arms. "You make it sound like some kind of a bad thing… Like being a dead guy is something you can catch. And there ain't no word for being prejudiced against the non-living, so…" He gave her his best serious look. "I'm disappointed in you, Lyds. Expected better."
Lydia just stared at him, suddenly uncomfortable, wondering if she did secretly hold some sort of prejudice against the dead… Only to have him suddenly burst out laughing, unable to maintain a straight face. "I'm shitting you, babes! No one gives a damn if you call a dead guy a dead guy… 'Bout the only thing that's off limits is calling one a corpse. Other than that, no one really gives a fuck either way!"
Frustrated, relieved, and still a little guilty, Lydia made a face at him, before turning back into her studies with single minded determination… Not to rise to any more of his crap. "Anyway, you can figure how hard it would have been to explain, if anyone had figured it out." She pointed out slowly, only to once again, be cut off by the poltergeist.
"Hell babes, I'm really curious how you managed to explain it anyway!" But then, having said this, he made no effort to go any further down that road of questions, sitting himself comfortably in midair, and using the back of her chair for a footrest. Laughing again when she shoved them away, and just replacing them with a grin.
Lydia picked up her textbook, and threw it at him. "Will you let me do my homework?" She demanded, annoyed with the ghost's shenanigans, though he wasn't acting any different than usual. He just caught the book, and threw it back, making her lift her arms to protect her face… And after a moment, lower them again, puzzled, to find the textbook right back on her desk.
He of course, seemed to think this was endlessly funny, cackling to himself as he drifted away, starting to poke around in her wardrobe instead. She considered berating him for this as well… Then decided that there was really nothing in there that she had reason to hide from him, and used his moment of distraction to get back to her homework.
And everything seemed to be going fine, until she ended up with a plaid skirt on her head. "Beej!" She snapped, rising to her feet in horror to see her clothes now strewn from one end of the bedroom to the other. "What the hell are you doing?"
"Seeing if you got anything decent to wear in here." He grumbled, throwing a pair of stockings randomly over his shoulder as well. "If you're going to be seen with me on the other side, I don't want you bringing my reputation down."
"Reputation?" She started to demand scathingly, only to belatedly catch what he was saying. The other side? A smile grew across her features, as she closed her current folder, deciding she really could use a break. "What did you have in mind?"
Beetlejuice just laughed.
--
