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

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

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

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--

She felt the weight of his ring on her finger long before she opened her eyes, which she counted as strange. It felt warm, and she swore, glowed with hues of amber rose behind her eyes. She also knew that he was still there, close by. Watching her? Strange how little that bothered her.

Relaxing into a slow stretch, Lydia's eyes cracked open, just a little, and she cast them around the room for said poltergeist. She was a little surprised to see him on her simple wooden chair, slumped, looking pretty much asleep. She supposed he did have to sleep now, but that just looked plain uncomfortable.

Wiping her hair from her eyes, she rose from bed, and quietly gathered a change of clothes, doing her best not to wake him. It didn't really seem to be a problem though. He was sleeping the sleep of the dead, so to speak. Just the thought of this made her smile, which in turn made her shake her head.I am so weird…

The reflection that greeted her from the bathroom mirror looked a little less drawn than the last time she'd seen it. Not because she'd gotten enough rest, obviously, so then why? "Because I'm not mad at him anymore." She sighed, accepting this even as she said it, as true. She didn't know at what point she'd decided not to be upset anymore, but it was before she'd seen him watching her sleep. Maybe while she'd actually been sleeping. You can't get mad at Beetlejuice for being Beetlejuice…

Everyone else in the house still seemed to be asleep, and when she peeked at him again, so was her husband. She made a face at that thought too. Husband. Like that seemed real. And yet her face softened as she watched him there, so utterly determined not to leave her side. She wondered idly why he hadn't crawled into bed with her, as he had before. Maybe the guy was getting some sense…

She picked up her blanket, intending to cover him with it, then took another look at the rather unstable wooden chair he was sleeping in, and grimaced. There was no use for it then. "Beej?" She prompted softly. He made a small motion, but otherwise showed no sign of waking. She hesitantly put one hand on his shoulder, and gave him a little shake. "Beetlejuice?" It was weird, how that name didn't even seem strange anymore…

Beetlejuice came awake with a start, even as she knelt before him to try again, and fell out of the chair. Pretty much right on top of her. He looked down at her, took in the position they were in, and grinned, one of his most lecherous grins. "Hey, babes." He greeted her, nonchalantly. "You get started without me?"

Growling, Lydia heaved him off her, since he didn't seem in any hurry to extract himself, and he should have ended up on his ass from it. Instead he sat there calmly in midair, twisting his wild eyebrows at her, and smiling. Lydia blew the hair from her face, not yet rising. "I was going to say you should get in bed…" She began, only of course to be cut off by him, with a laugh.

"Hey, babes, you only had to ask…"

"To sleep." She emphasized, getting a little unsteadily to her feet. "I'm going to school." At this, he frowned a little, as if annoyed that her life wasn't going to simply revolve around him now. She fixed him with a tolerant gaze. "You know, school? Where I go every day?"

Now his scowl deepened. "Every day…" He echoed, eyes narrowing a little. Then, before she could confirm this, he suddenly swept up, grabbed her around the waist, and leaned very far into her personal space, eyes glinting. "You don't gotta go yet, babes…"

Lydia might have been steel in his arms, but her stiffness wasn't from anger this time. She was noticing instead, that he must have recently taken a bath. His hair was brushed. And for some reason she didn't understand, he smelled good. She closed her eyes, breathing it in deeply, and was surprised by the rush of warmth it brought her.

Hell. Hell no. Recovering her senses, she pushed him back at arm's length, and sighed, turning her back on him. "I do have to go now," She heard herself denying aloud, her voice as collected as ever, "I don't have time for games."

Beetlejuice made an indelicate sound, to show what he thought of this. But a moment later, he picked the blanket off the floor, and retreated to her bed, pulling the covers up over his face. "Don't wake me up until you get home." He advised enigmatically, before fading from sight completely, the blanket falling flat where he'd been a moment before.

She stared at the place with a frown. Well shit, was he still there or not? She poked the covers warily, and got no response. Oh well.

Lydia was halfway out the door when she remembered that she was out of eyeliner. She'd used her last pencil up the day before, drawing… Well, drawing. She considered going without it, then sighed, and returned to her dresser, to fish through her top drawer for a new stick. She'd managed to find it, and quickly too, and was starting to turn away, when something caught her eye.

Turning back around slowly, Lydia took in the sight of the absence of the mess she'd made the night before. Instead, smoothed out carefully, were each of the pictures she'd drawn of Beetlejuice, laid neatly on top of each other. Despite herself, she paused, giving herself a moment to leaf through them.

Her real surprise came when she found the first of the pictures she'd torn to shreds, now carefully pieced back together with endless clear tape. Her fingers twitched, just a little, a breath from his image. Had he done that? There's no one else here, Lydia… She reminded herself slowly. Her throat felt suddenly thick. "Beej?" She whispered, baffled. How could the guy who'd thrown that god-awful tantrum the day before, then sit in her room with a roll of tape, and put her pictures back together one by one?

School suddenly seemed unimportant. Not that it had ever been a real driving force in her life… She sat there, going through the pictures one by one, then stopping at the end, and doing it again. They were all here. Every one of them. God, he really does give a damn about me, doesn't he?

It was actually nine o' clock before she was interrupted, as Barb opened her door in surprise to find her sitting in the middle of the floor, the pictures spread out around her in a wide arc. Her lips twisted in something like a frown, as her eyes took in the pictures, as well as the damage done to them. A moment later though, all she said was, "Lydia, you need to go to school."

Lydia nodded, slowly, blinking to clear her head. "Yeah…" She agreed, sort of noncommittally. Then she saw the clock, and winced. Oh hell. Miss Shannon was going to kill her.

Leaving the papers where they were, she rushed past Barbara, paused, ran back to give her a hug, and whispered, "Don't let anyone throw those away, okay?"

"Sure, hon…" But the woman was already talking to the back of her head, as she raced away again. Barbara considered her for a long moment, then turned back to the drawings scattered across the floor. This was worse than she thought. The girl really did love him…

--

She couldn't have honestly learned anything that entire day. All she could think about was him. Her eyes glazed, a little thoughtful frown on her face, she stared some distance ahead at nothing at all, and utterly ignored the world around her. Miss Shannon's ruler, snapping against the side of her desk like a gunshot, made her jump about two feet, and look around wildly for the source.

"Have you heard a word I've said all day, Ms Deetz?" The woman was demanding, exasperated. Lydia looked at her blankly, not understanding the question. The woman's eyes narrowed, and her next words were spoken through her teeth. "Can you tell me," She pressed slowly, "What we were just discussing?"

What? Hell no. Lydia shook her head, and looked down at her desk. Well shit, she'd been drawing again. On her desk this time. No wonder the teacher was pissed. Apparently, she'd written the word 'Beej' about fifty times across the formerly unmarred wood. It actually kind of surprised her, because she didn't remember doing it.

"Perhaps you'd like to sit the remainder of this class, in the principal's office?" The teacher was saying now. Lydia looked up, surprised she hadn't thought of this before. At least then she wouldn't have to pretend like she was paying attention…

"Yeah sure," She could have kicked herself for the grateful way this came out, "That sounds awesome." Someone in class giggled. Several someones actually. Miss Shannon's face colored, and she just pointed, tight-lipped, unable to summon a word.

Lydia left the classroom, walking down the hall slowly. She didn't go to the principal's office though. It was almost time for the bell to ring anyway, and she was in no mood for detention. Instead, legs swinging out a bit crazily, her hands in her pocket, she walked straight out of the school, and never looked back.

Unfortunately, it seemed that her father head arrived early to pick her up, and the sight of her walking out of the otherwise still school was not lost on him. She stopped, giving him a long stare, before doing her best to smile. "Shit," She said aloud, as if to a friend, "How am I supposed to get away with cutting class early, if you're going to pick me up everyday?"

Her father frowned, and looked at his watch. She knew she had like ten minutes to go. Which begged the question of what he was doing there so early… "Lydia," He said softly, with a sigh, "I'm not going to get mad. I'm not. But you can't keep doing this." Then, reaching in through the passenger window, he brought out a newspaper, and shook it open. "Look familiar?"

To Lydia's surprise, she was looking at a picture of herself, on the front page. She didn't remember anyone there having a camera… Fortunately, the picture was so blurred, her features so distorted, that probably only her father had figured out who it was. Lydia felt a stab of guilt, like she'd been the one to do something wrong. "Beetlejuice is an ass." She informed her father simply, getting into the car.

He said nothing else until he'd gotten in his side, and started the engine. With the windows rolled up, they could talk in private. "Have you talked to him about Claire Brewster?" He asked her after a moment, his tone serious. Lydia looked at him in surprise, this thought never even having occurred to her. Her dad looked very stern though. "This revenge thing has gone on too far, honey. She's just a kid too."

True. Not that Lydia really thought of herself as a kid, these days. But she was, wasn't she? Before she could answer, she suddenly realized what she should have known a full minute and a half before, and made a face, closing her eyes. "Tell him yourself." She muttered, making her father look at her oddly. "Beej, what are you doing back there?"

Finally making himself visible in the backseat, Beetlejuice looked utterly unintimidated by her father's presence, and unimpressed with her scolding. "Little bitch had it coming to her." He informed them both, matter-of-factly. "Good to see you again, Chuck."

"It's Edmond." Her father corrected calmly. Lydia was baffled. This seemed to be a conversation they'd had before. "You can at least learn your father-in-law's name."

"Yeah, whatever." Beetlejuice dismissed this as unimportant, slumped across half the backseat, as large a presence as ever. "So fine, if Lyds wants, I'll leave the whiny little ear breaker alone." He cast a small, sly glance at her, and added, "But can you really say that's what you want, babes?"

Lydia grimaced. It would have to be up to her. He couldn't possibly do it out of the goodness of his heart, or because her father had asked him to. "Just stay away from her, Beej." She said at last, sighing. "It's not like she's worth it…"

"I'll be the judge of that." Beetlejuice interrupted with a short laugh.

"…And you've probably scarred her for life and beyond anyway." Lydia finished, just as if he hadn't said a word. "Besides, you got what you want, right? It's not like she didn't have anything to do with that…"

Beetlejuice opened his mouth to say something, looked at her father, and settled for one of his wide, charming smiles instead. "Anything for you, babes." He answered simply, gone a breath later. See you soon… Don't keep me waiting.

Okay, no way that was in her head. The car pulled up in the driveway, and her father stopped, about halfway up. He gave a long, thoughtful look at the house itself. Lydia could almost read his mind. Go in? Try to be civil? Pretend hearts hadn't been broken, and promises trampled? "I'm sorry, I really can't stay," He said suddenly, though she hadn't asked him to, "Say hello to…" And here he stopped. She didn't think there was anyone in the house he wanted to say hello to.

"Yeah dad, sure." Lydia got out, leaned in the driver's side window to place a kiss on his cheek, and backed up, giving him permission to drive away. He didn't. Not right away. But a moment later, the engine started again, and he pulled back down the drive slowly.

No sooner had he vanished from sight, than Beetlejuice reappeared, sweeping her off the ground, around in the air twice, and then into a deep dip, until the long locks of her hair draped the ground. "You know you missed me…" He chuckled, before planting his lips squarely on hers, without giving her a chance to decide whether or not to stop him.

And so she didn't stop him, if only because it would have taken too much rational thought to do so, and hers all vanished the moment his hungry lips grabbed for hers. Damn. Damn he was good. It was him who pulled back a full minute later, looking smug over the fact that she hadn't tried once to pull away. She stared up at him, so dazed she was almost cross-eyed. "Bastard…" She whispered breathlessly.

His grin became a leer. "That's just your way of saying you love it…" He chuckled, coming in again, and biting her lower lip gently, before giving her another hard, deep kiss. Her mind started to drift off on some tangent of the warmth surrounding her, when the guy had the nerve to grab her ass, and give it a light pinch.

That woke her up. Sputtering as she pushed him away, like she was coming up for air, she glared at him with a mix of embarrassment and… What, desire? No, no, no, no, no… "Why do you have to be such a…" She fought for the word, and couldn't find one appropriate. "You!" She settled on finally, trying to make it an insult.

Beetlejuice just looked smug, wiping his fingers across his lips, and licking them, as if he could still taste her. "Fuss all you want," He goaded, reaching for her again, "But don't pretend you didn't like it…"

"Ah…" Could she deny it? That little thrill the forbidden touch had shot across her skin? "Damn you, Beetlejuice…" She avoided his grasp, and of course he just reached again. She avoided that too, backing up, and his eyes got a sort of feral, hunting amusement to them, following her relentlessly.

She felt like she was in one of those cartoons, where the two characters chase each other around in circles, until inevitably, someone… She was the one that fell, and he was the one, of course, that caught her. Not sparing a moment, he gave her another long, lip tingling kiss, tipping her over backwards until they both fell in the grass. If anything, this only seemed to please him more, and he waggled his eyebrows at her with a grin.

"Beetlejuice!" She managed to pull herself free of him, bright red now, and struggled to her feet, pointlessly brushing off her skirt. "Just…!" Her mind raced for anything to say. "Just… go away!"

A shadow fell across his features, and suddenly he wasn't grinning anymore. "You telling me to leave you the hell alone again, babes?" He prompted softly, looking like he was ready to do just this, if she tried to push him away again. "'Cause if that's what you want…"

"No." She said it more quickly than she'd planned, almost urgently, and immediately berated herself. She closed her eyes for a minute, and then opened them to look at him again. He remained unmoved. He still looked fully ready to be pissed, if she just gave him a reason. "I want you to… come back tonight." Her head was swimming, she was confused, and god if the sight of him standing there, those smoldering green eyes peeling away her defenses, didn't make it worse.

"Tonight?" His lips curled in a mocking little smile. "Had about all you can take of my company for one day, babes? Or are we playing games again?"

His words infuriated her, but for once, she was determined not to let them cloud her judgment. She just shook her head, not trusting herself to any more words, and tried to convey with her eyes what she was feeling. After a moment, the anger seemed to drain from him, and something puzzled settled across his features. "I just, can't think." She said at last, then, after a pause, "Don't go away. Not forever. Please."

His eyebrows flew up at the word, 'please,' and he considered her with the most serious expression she'd ever seen on his reckless face. "Tonight." He repeated at last, a little dully, and with clear doubt to the word. "And you're going to figure out what you want to say by then." She nodded slowly, and his serious look deepened into a frown. "Suit yourself, babes." He said softly. This time without a gesture to accompany it, he was gone.

And immediately, the last thing Lydia wanted was to be alone.

--

The hours had passed like sludge through a drain. She found herself checking her appearance in the mirror, every few minutes, and then going into a funk in the corner of her room, staring at nothing at all. She wouldn't talk to anyone, not the Maitland's, not her mom. She didn't bother barricading the doorway, she just told them in a flat, no nonsense tone, that she needed time alone.

Beetlejuice. He was like some kind of crazy beat in her mind, like the music her foster parents listened to, the kind that got under your skin, and had you moving before you realized it. His face came to mind, over and over, his smell…

Was there really any reason she should be fighting off this urge to be, closer? After all, they were married, and… And yeah, she felt like a kid. Except when he looked at her that way. Except when he reached for her…

She leafed through her drawings, a dozen times, and finally put them in her dresser, to try to avoid the temptation. Her mind crossed that kiss, and that moment of excitement at his closeness, just before she'd pushed him away. And god, what was that smell…? How could someone so dead, even half back into life, make her feel so warm?

And we are married, she went on in her mind, for about the seventh time. It's not like, if I did want to, it would be a bad thing. But did she want to? For the life of her, she felt like maybe she did, but just couldn't bring herself to admit it. Cross that point she'd never crossed before, leave herself vulnerable in the hands of a man that had lusted after her, and made no bones about it, from the first time he'd laid eyes on her. God, who knew what someone like him might do?

She stopped pacing, and stared at herself in the mirror. Once again, she looked haunted. Her hair was a mess. Her gaze was dark with worry. I shouldn't even be considering this, if it's messing me up this bad…

But the fact was, she did want him. She did like it when he held her close, his mouth seeking hers, his hands playing along her spine. How many times did her mind turn the fantasy farther, until it left her out of breath, and weak-kneed? He was not the kind of guy she'd ever pictured herself falling for… And that was exactly what she was doing, wasn't it? She was falling for him.

"A guy named Beetlejuice can not be my first love." She whispered to herself, just to hear the words aloud. But of course, as she'd realized before, the name no longer seemed at all out of the ordinary. And him? She was, getting used to him. Like a comfortable pair of shoes. Or an old stained up sweatshirt.

And despite all her best intentions to push him away, back there, earlier, when he'd asked if she still wanted him to leave her the hell alone… It had scared her. Because the last thing she wanted, was for him to go away.

She stopped pacing, which she didn't even remember starting, looked in the air, and tested the words out loud. "The last thing I want," She repeated softly, "Is for him to go away." It still felt like the truth. My god. She really had fallen in love with him.

It was such a simple realization, but immediately her heart felt full, and a huge grin broke out across her face. She loved Beetlejuice. She loved… Beetlejuice. She loved his stupid grin, and his smoldering eyes, and his careless way with words. She loved how he did everything with passion… Even ask for forgiveness, without a word.

Her hands flew through her hair, and she half ran to her mirror this time, looking herself over. God, she needed a shower. Needed to brush her hair. Her teeth. Shave her legs, fix her make-up, find something to wear… A look of desperation touched her eyes. How long did she have? When would he come? It couldn't be more than an hour before it got dark out…

A groan passed her lips, and her gaze flew heavenward, as if in some supplication for help. And then, when Beetlejuice came, what would he be thinking? He'd looked pretty upset… If I know a thing about Beetlejuice, that won't last long. Not when he saw what she had in mind for him. A smile flicked across her face, small, mischievous, almost a smirk. He was going to be hers. All this time, he'd thought she was going to be his, but no. He was going to be hers.

Her heart was already slowing, her panic slipping away, and she lidded her eyes, planning ahead even as she moved to the dresser. She knew just what to wear. Make him think she'd just thrown it on. She couldn't wait to see his eyes bug out. The hip-length cotton t-shirt, nothing but white, dangled from her hand in an instant.

It was strange, the sense of relief her decision brought her. Relief, and anticipation that danced across her skin like tiny flames… Beej, are you in for a surprise…

--

She'd asked to see him tonight, so he'd see her. Not that he expected this meeting to go any better than his last… He cursed himself at the memory of that look in her eyes, just before he'd left. He couldn't place it, it wasn't something he'd seen before. Not in her eyes, not in anyone's. It made his legs feel like they couldn't hold him up.

But she was fucking crazy, if she thought she could keep stringing him along like this forever. He appeared glumly in the corner of her room, thinking this, and cast a searching eye around for Lydia. There she was, in front of her mirror. He cursed as he saw her dressed in a white cotton t-shirt, just barely draping her hips, and nothing else that he could see. So what the hell, was he early? How long did it take to put some goddamn pants on?

Lydia startled, without him saying a word, and turned to face him. Yeah, yeah, she was getting better at that… He wasn't prepared for the sweep of gentleness that crossed her eyes when she saw him though, or the way she didn't immediately dive for something to cover herself with.

Instead she stood there, flushing a delicious sort of pale pink, and pressed her arms behind her, exposing the curves of her front in all their unbarricaded glory. Her lips curved in something of a nervous smile, and he swore, his new heart thumped like a bird trying out its wings for the first time. "Beej?" She greeted him softly, with a lot more hesitation than she'd ever shown before. Then she swept her arms around, just a little, indicating her current state of dress. "You came." She whispered, "I wasn't sure if you would."

He'd come, all right. So what, so she could dangle herself in front of him like some prized treat, only to yank it away at the last minute? "Yeah, so?" He asked gruffly, not bothering to avert his eyes. Let her squirm. "What did you want, anyway?"

Her color deepened, almost imperceptibly. "I wanted to ask…" She began, then paused, and looked flustered for how to continue. "Beej," She whispered at last, taking a long, slow stride towards him, "If I say yes… Are you going to hurt me?"

Damn. Damn if that didn't sound like an invitation. Well aware that he was probably still being played, Beetlejuice flashed her his most careless grin. "Me? Nah. Hell no." He took a step towards her anyway, reaching with hungry hands, ready to call her bluff.

Indeed, she caught them before they could reach their destination, and for a moment his face darkened in a scowl. This time, she didn't seem to see it, just saying softly, "I know you've done this before, Beej…" A pause then, and she went on, sort of haltingly, "I haven't."

What, that was it? She let go of his hands, like it was. Now he couldn't help but grin, flicking his tongue over his lips. "Don't worry, babes," He promised softly, "I'll be real gentle." Inside though, he was kind of cursing himself. It had been a long time since he'd had to be gentle, and it was all he could do not to just grab her with both hands, and get this going.

She draped herself slowly against him, igniting him with fire everywhere her slight body touched against his. Her head tucked easily in the groove of his shoulder, and her next words tickled the little hairs on his neck. Her hair smelled warm, cherries and almonds, and something uniquely her. He sucked it in greedily, not yet willing to believe his luck. "I trust you, Beej." She said softly.

Fuck. He gave himself a moment to trace her spine, and enjoy the feel of her against him, before he pushed her back a little, and fixed her with a devilish grin. "I don't know if I want you to trust me that much, babes." He teased. Then settling himself back a little more, he put his hands on either of her hips, and moved down, slowly, to his knees before her. Her eyes flashed in uncertainty, but she didn't make a move to stop him.

Slowly, gently, he leaned forward, pressing his lips against the soft fabric of her shirt, before drawing back away, and flipping the scarce few inches up. He grinned up at her, and she managed a small smile, watching him uncertainly. What was he going to do? He savored that look for a moment, and the fact that she still wasn't doing a damn thing to stop him.

Then he leaned forward, took the edge of her lacy panties between his teeth, and began drawing them down her long, beautiful legs. His fingers stroked every inch of the journey, then began sliding back up, even before the pretty black things were on the floor. He reached his warm destination, and leaned back a little, fixing her with a grin, searching her deep dark eyes. '"Something like what you had in mind?" He asked softly, his fingers stroking and teasing at her with single-minded determination.

Her whole body flushed now, she quickly had to take her bottom lip between her teeth, to keep from moaning aloud. "Damn you, Beetlejuice…" She whispered, her voice almost raw with emotion.

He lifted one eyebrow, and did a little trick with two of his fingers that made her close her eyes. "You better not be fucking teasing me this time, Lyds." He warned her softly. Not when he could smell her. Not when he could feel her. She trembled under his touch like she wanted him. The way her hands burrowed into his hair, tugging lightly, was like she wanted him. And he sure as hell wanted her.

In answer, she lifted one leg, somewhat clumsily, and laid it slowly over his shoulder, giving him better access to the tender reaches of her. She closed her eyes again as he chuckled, turning his face into her thigh, and gently biting the creamy white skin. Damn. She tasted better than vanilla. "Bastard…" She whispered hoarsely, digging her fingers more deeply into his hair.

It was all he could do not to laugh. Oh yeah, this was going to be good. This was going to be real good…

--