Ch 9. Chords in the Heart

"There are chords in the hearts of the most reckless which cannot be touched without emotion" Edgar Allen Poe

Returning to the ballroom, Lydia awaited the New Years chime. Since neither Bertha nor Prudence seemed to be willing to celebrate with her; she now felt isolated from all the frivolity that was surrounding her.

At least that was until a drunken stumble broke her contemplation.

The man in question held up his glass and apologized. She found it amusing that his eyes never looked up to her face but instead stayed fixated on the cleavage peeking out of her bodice.

With a nod, she accepted his apology and took two steps away in the opposite direction.

"Lydia Deetz!" A woman cried, "I - I am so so sorry about your mother. And so soon after Charles. My heart is just broken. Devastated really…."

Lydia backstepped, closing her eyes with a prayer to the gods that she wouldn't say or do anything she that would regret.

"I mean to think, a single woman all alone in that big house on the hill-"

"Jane." She said patiently. "I am not moving, nor am I selling my house."

"Oh, but Lydia, your father had so many properties. So many of them are a perfect size for a woman with no children."

Continuing to ramble, Jane completely ignored the look of murderous contempt on Lydia's face.

"After all, I have seen no prospects of a lover in all these years. You know, I was talking with the school teacher Ms. Shannon, and she seems to think that you need to spread your wings and go out in search of a man."

Clenching her fists, Lydia's heart began to pick up in a steady rhythm as she watched the woman go on. Jane was breathing rather quickly and talking herself down a road that she would be unable to backpedal from.

By a stroke of luck, a male voice excused himself into the conversation.

"Jane Butterfield. It's so lovely to see you and in such a flattering ball gown at that." Appearing by Lydia's side was Allen, who took the older woman's hand. His placement of a polite peck upon her hand made her erupt into a tizzy of girlish giggles.

"Oh my. Well, Officer Dichter… I'm flattered," She gushed.

Allen placed his hand on Lydia's lower back, taking her by complete surprise. Typically he was very reserved, and this contact was something that she would have never expected from him.

"I was hoping that it wouldn't be too much trouble if I whisked my friend into a dance before the midnight toll."

Gifting him a grateful smile, Lydia willingly followed him onto the dance floor without giving another thought to the irritating real estate woman.

Taking Lydia's hand and hip into a proper waltz stance, Allen fumbled for words only to be met with her amused large brown eyes. He froze when she giggled.

"Thank you."

"Yeah, I mean, no problem" He gave her a lopsided grin to which she returned with ease as she relaxed into a slow, steady rhythm.

"So, uh. Jane really has it out for your house."

"Jane is a viper." Lydia shrugged one shoulder. It wasn't news to the community, but it was slightly irritating to have the woman breathing down the necks of every homeowner in the surrounding towns.

"She visited me too, after…" He clamped down on that train of thought.

Understanding flooded her while he struggled with himself. She opened up her senses to Allen, using a skill she rarely needed for, and she felt a rush of over-encompassing grief.

Few people could project their emotions and even fewer who knew how to keep them shielded, but this man had control over his aura that Lydia rarely came across. She had to reach deep, but once she was there, the amount of pain that radiated off her dance partner felt about equal to her own over the loss of her father.

"There are chords in the hearts of the most reckless which cannot be touched without emotion." Lydia recited as they stepped into a rotation and danced in another direction.

Amused, Allen chuckled. "Did you just quote Poe?"

She hummed in affirmation, "Masque of the Red Death."

"Appropriate," He looked at her with amusement. "Even with the utterly lost, to whom life and death are equally jests, there are matters of which no jest can be made."

Lydia beamed up at him, causing his heart to skip unexpectedly. As they waltzed in silence, she analyzed the fluctuations in his emotions. Her expression faltered when she felt doubt slip through his fascination.

"Is everything alright?" He asked as he gently brushed his thumb against her gloved hand.

"I've been able to feel things for years," she said softly, prompting Allen to perk up at her words. "Sensitive, some people call it. My father understood me better than anyone, but then his nerves finally cracked. After that, we moved here to find peace."

"Peaceful Pines. Makes sense."

"Delia loved him, but she didn't really understand either of us. The two of us had a bond that no one could ever really live up to… well… except for Beej."

Allen furrowed his brow, "How well do you know Mr. Beetleman?"

A light blush covered her cheeks. Although Allen remained silent as he waited for her response, this did not sit well with him.

"Not as well as I thought I did if I'm being honest." Shaking her head, she closed her eyes and imagined that the arms around her waist had instead belonged to her ghost. She flushed again.

"I know it's not my place to say this, but you probably shouldn't allow him to stay with you."

Lydia had felt the change within her dance partner. Opening her eyes, she considered this while deciphering if it had been concern or jealousy that had prompted him to speak.

Before Lydia could answer him, the inopportune shout of "Countdown!" interrupted her and the throngs of people around them had started the ten-second tradition.

The numbers descended in even ticks until a tumultuous uproar of jeering and whoops exploded when the clock tolled its midnight bell. Had she been alone, Lydia would have found that an opportune time to leave.

Instead, she found herself with a pair of warm arms around her and soft lips that gently pressed against her own. It was tender, friendly, but a yearning came from the other side of the kiss. She felt it. The want, the need… it mirrored the feelings that she held pent up for her dark apparition.

When she felt another pull of emotions, she pulled away. Those emotions were of anguish and then of pure unadulterated hate.

Stunned by the intrusion, both stepped back as they awkwardly wished each other a happy new year before they went their separate ways.

—-

"That muther fucker!" Beetlejuice raged while his voice echoed through the Roadhouse.

His night was officially ruined the moment that he took one last peek into his girls night. Here, he was hoping to surprise her by jumping in at the last second to whisk her away but no… No!

Instead, that god damned asswipe of a pretty boy had his fucking slimy hands on his Lyds. His Lydia!

If there ever was a moment where Beej was ready to rip someone's entrails out and wrap them around a fuckers neck to strangle them, this was it. That kiss… oh ho… that kiss had sealed the cops fate, it was just a matter of time.

Tonight, before his little breather could feel him, he had sealed the portal. That damned empathic wave. It had put a real damper on his pranks when she had developed her sensitive skill and latched onto his energy. It felt different somehow, especially since the day she had given him the watch.

Pulling out a cigarette and lighting it, he stomped over to the fridge for good measure before grabbing a beer.

Things were changing again. The damned world energy was shifting yet again, and he knew that it would only confuse the spirits around him even more.

"Blood magic." Muttering to himself, the cig was still his mouth as he cracked open the can. Throwing himself into the recliner, he settled in front of the tv and pulled one long drag before taking a swig of the brew. "I either need a body to mutilate or a good fuck."

He flicked on the tube.

"Are you miserable? Depressed? Anxious? Do you need some …. motivation?

Well then come on down to Dante's Inferno Room and get your groove on.

The finest ghouls this side of the veil.

Not interested in a physical experience? Let them possess your spirit and get you off using your own limbs against you. Nothing is impossible for our spooky, spicy Babes. They will bring out the devil inside, and you know you'll love every moment.

If you act now, you can get a special encounter with our two-headed headmistress. Bring you twice the experience for the price of one."

Growling, Beetlejuice shut off the tv and tossed his cig away to chug the last of his beer.

It was gonna be a long night.

—-

After the kiss fiasco, the night did not improve for Lydia. She really didn't want to lead on Allen, but she wasn't exactly sure what she would do about that little slip-up.

He had feelings for her, and it was terrifying.

Lydia had made her choice not to make anymore living connections. She wanted to be with Beej. He was her everything, and if what she had read in their initial agreement was anything to go by, she had basically promised him her soul.

In not so many words, she had picked that up from reading between the lines.

As a child, she was fascinated by the ghost who was so amused by her bloody little hands. Back then, she didn't fear him because her only fear had been losing her daddy.

Now, she didn't have anything left to fear.

"So like, did I just see what I thought I saw?" guffawing like her sides were about to split was Claire Brewster.

"What do you want, Claire?" Lydia's voice drawled out in monotone. The girl wasn't going to get a rise out of her tonight. She wouldn't let her.

"You and Mr. Dullsville Police man." She cackled. "You really are desperate. It's like you two were practically fucking on the ballroom floor."

Choosing to walk away, Lydia exited the building, but Claire was hot on her tail.

"Jesus Deetz, take a joke." The cocky way the girl spoke began to dip into condescension. "Honestly, I think it's about time you got laid. Maybe then you won't be such a freaky loner, and you might actually become someone worth having around."

"Claire…" Pausing her steps, Lydia took in a deep breath of the cold air. Centered, she nodded to the valet who then waved for one of the stand-by cabbies to approach the red carpet. "Go to hell."

Scoffing, Claire flipped her blonde hair and returned to her party.

In the cab, Lydia ignored the drivers small talk while her mind wandered over her transgression.

To make the night worse…Beej didn't show up to wish her a Happy New Year.