Again, it was getting rather late when I started typing this chapter. I should probably stop staying up so late when I type, but I'm just so busy during the day. Curse me for having a social life. Ah well. Here's chapter eleven coming at ya at almost warp speed.

Crowe sat knee deep among boxes wrapped in Christmas themed wrapping paper in her black flannel pajama pants and Guns'n'Roses oversize shirt, gazing happily at all her Christmas presents. BJ sulked against the couch, a green sparkly bow stuck to his head and tinsel wrapped around his neck. Crowe had decorated him to get him into the holiday spirit. Needless to say, he wasn't amused. Ollie on the other hand, found it hilarious, and snapped quite a few pics of the ghost decked out in 'his holiday finest'.

The wrapping paper didn't last long once Ollie gave the go to open presents. Ollie loved the faux sheep wool lined faux leather vest and new vest Crowe bought him. She in turn was ecstatic over the new iPod dock, sketch book, and digital camera he gave her. BJ even cheered up when he opened the new faux leather trench coat Crowe handed to him. "Look at the buttons," she said, blushing slightly despite her grin. He did so, and saw they were little black beetles. "I sewed them on myself. When I saw them, I just had to get them. I mean, they're adorable." "Thanks Babes, I mean it. It's a nice coat," BJ stood and shrugged into, noticing it fit like a glove. "Now, open my present," he produced a small black velvet box out of thin air, and presented it to her with all the flair of a magician pulling a rabbit from his hat.

A small gasp slipped past Crowe's lips as she took in the bat earrings that matched her engagement bracelet. She didn't even question that he probably stole them, or conned them out of the same jeweler who sold her bracelet to her. She simply accepted them as the gift they were meant to be. Along with them was a pair of fuchsia knee high socks embroidered with dark purple beetles and lime green spiders. "They're eye catching, to say the least. I love them. Thanks," Crowe immediately pulled the socks on, knocking her feet together and showing them off.

Beetlejuice enjoyed watching Crowe reveling in the child like cheer of Christmas. It reminded him of the Christmases spent with Lyds, where she would talk him into spending it with Jacques and Ginger, and maybe seeing his parents, and sledding, snowball fights in the Neitherwoods. Maybe he could get Crowe to spend her Christmas there. It wouldn't quite be like old times, but, then again, no one could be Lyds, not even her daughter. He found himself drawn from his thoughts and temporarily blinded as the girl in question took his picture, testing out her new camera. She did like her gifts, especially the ones from him, he noted, seeing the bats swinging from her ears. Truth be told, he had considered for quite a while getting her some sexy 'Santa's little helper' outfit. Yeah it would be more a gift for him, but so what? Unfortunately, he didn't think Daddy would like that very much, and wasn't too sure if Crowe would see it as funny and take the hint, or be insulted and banish him. So to save himself, he'd gotten her the other presents, conning them away just as Crowe suspected. BJ sighed. It was a shame, 'cause he'd seen a really nice little red silk thing that would've looked fantastic on her.

"Beeje? Are you paying any attention to me at all?" Crowe sighed exasperatedly. "Sort of," he answered lazily, pulling the tinsel from around his neck. "That's a no. What were you thinking about?" "Nothing too important Crowe. Don't worry about it. It's Christmas after all." She frowned at him, sure he was hiding something (when wasn't he keeping something hidden up his frayed and dirty sleeve?), but let it go. She had noticed that he only called her 'Crowe' when her dad wad around, or he when he wasn't kidding and really wanted her to drop it. She sensed this was a case of both, which was totally unfair in her book. Instead of prodding, like she normally would have, she got to her feet and ran into the kitchen, sliding across the linoleum floor in her socks to come to a hard landing against the opposite wall next to the fridge. "I'm making breakfast!" she called. "Who wants crepes?"

Over breakfast, BJ popped the question. No, not the question, the question of whether Crowe could spend at least some of her Christmas in the Neitherworld. "It's a sort of…tradition…me and Lyds had. Just for a few hours Pops," he said. Ollie checked the clock on the kitchen wall. "It's eleven now. I want you home by five for dinner. All right!" Beetlejuice saluted, and Crowe promised to have her cell phone on at all times, and bundle up, not go on any thin ice, etc. etc. However, before she could even think about going anywhere, she had dishes to do, by hand. Ollie wasn't too keen on the idea of Beetlejuice juicing the dishes. Seemed to think he'd be more inclined to break them against the walls than actually clean them. As if he'd ever do that.

Once the dishes were stacked neatly, Crowe found herself being bundled in layers upon layers of shirts, sweaters and jackets, with gloves and a furry hat with ear flaps and a scarf. "Dad…I can't breathe…I think I'll be fine. I'm so bundled I can barely move," she gasped. "I don't want a repeat of you getting sick," Ollie stood up from tying the laces of her boots. "But dad, seriously, I can take care of myself, and Beej will look out for me. The Neitherworld is perfectly safe almost all the time," Crowe said easily. "Almost all of the time?" Ollie fixed her with a stern look. "Well it is inhabited by dead people and monsters and such. Obviously there's some who might not be the safest. But I don't hang out with them, so I don't have to worry about them. It's fine, no worries. I'll be safe, I promise." Ollie wanted to believe her, but nothing could make him believe she was safe in the Neitherworld. He simply couldn't trust it, and it was unlikely that that would change.

"Lay those B words on me Babes," Beetlejuice urged, hovering over Crowe up in her bedroom. She'd taken off most of the layers of clothes so she could move and breathe. He on the other hand, was wearing the jacket she'd gotten him. She pulled up her hood and chanted the words. In the next breath, they were in the Neitherworld, a few yards from the Roadhouse, almost knee deep in snow. "It's so…pretty," Crowe murmured, spinning around slowly to take it all in. Everything; every tree, every road, every house, was blanketed in snow. It looked like a Christmas card, albeit a bizarre, off kilter Christmas card that Hallmark would never allow to darken their racks of cards. Which was how she liked her Christmas cards incidentally.

Crowe was knocked to her knees by a sudden hit right between her shoulder blades. A second hit sent her face down in the snow. Carefully, she picked herself up, snow sticking to her eyelashes and her hair, BJ's raucous laughter grating her eardrums. Snarling, she heaped together the biggest snowball she could, and heaved it at him, hitting him square between the eyes and cutting out his laughter. "Take that!" Crowe stood up, tossing him a smug smile. "I was just warming up Babes. Try this on for size," Beetlejuice scooped up snow, and in an instant, his hand was a snow ball shooting gun, positively wicked looking. Crowe gulped, and dove for cover as the balls of snow pelted at her at high speed. The ones that hit her hit hard and she knew there'd be bruises. "That's not fair!" she yelled from the pathetic cover of a dead looking tree. "All's fair in love and war Babes," he called back over the noise.

The silence of the cease fire was deafening. And it was Crowe's only chance. If she was going to get him to stop firing, she had to take him out. Firing back snowballs wasn't going to have any effect. But she needed more height if it was going to work.

Without thinking, assuming that Crowe was still there, Beetlejuice started to fire snowballs at the tree where Crowe was hiding. Only when he didn't hear any yelps or curses did he stop. "Babes? You there?" He waved his hand back to normal, and floated closer to the tree. A wild battle cry tore through the silence, and he was hit hard by Crowe lunging at him from as high in the tree as she could climb. They tumbled into the snow and down a small hill to land in a tangled heap half in a wall of dead thorny bushes. "Ok, that was not my intention at all," Crowe groaned, crawling out into the snow. "What the hell was that for anyway?" BJ followed her, thorns catching in his hair and tangling it even more. "To make you stop firing snowballs at me of course," Crowe answered. "Bit over the top wasn't it?" "You were asking for it. And it seemed like a good idea at the time." "Well it wasn't." "You're just upset 'cause I knocked you on your ass and got the better of you," she smirked. "The sun was in my eyes," he protested indignantly. "What sun?!" Crowe gestured to the overcast sky. "It was there a minute ago." "Sure it was."

The sun actually had been there a moment before, but now thick black clouds were rolling in. Not surprising normally in the Neitherworld. No, what made this so noticeable was that the clouds were going against the wind. Crowe tugged on Beetlejuice's sleeve, pointing up to the clouds. "Beeje, do the clouds normally go against the wind here?" "Not typically Babes, but what do I know? They might," he shrugged, looking at the sky as well. Something about the clouds didn't sit right with him, and made him uneasy. They almost seemed to be moving with a purpose, coming towards them. It reminded him of a movie he'd seen once with Lyds, what was it, James and the Giant Peach, where the kid was chased by an evil rhino in the clouds. It wouldn't have surprised him at all to see a rhino in those clouds, and he unconsciously started to move Crowe behind him to protect her. She willingly stayed behind BJ, peering worriedly over her shoulder to watch the clouds move ever closer. In just a few minutes they would be upon them. BJ felt Crowe's grip on the back of his shirt tighten, and she pressed close against him. He didn't even have time to bask in that fact before whatever it was arrived in front of them.

An all too familiar snail drawn black coach pulled to a stop. "Isn't that Prince Vince's coach?" Crowe whispered in BJ's ear. "Yeah. That explains the clouds going against the wind. Wonder what he wants?" "Probably to hit on me some more. I don't think he realizes that I'm just not interested." "Oh no? And why's that anyway? He's a prince," BJ glanced out of the corner of his eye at her. "I've already got a fiancé, and he's almost too much for me to handle. I don't need a moody prince who seems to think I'm going to fall for him just because my mom did," Crowe rested her chin on Beetlejuice's shoulder. He beamed, showing all his crooked teeth. To him, that meant she'd totally picked him over Vince. So why shouldn't he gloat a little, and rub it in the Prince's face?

Crowe squeaked as Beetlejuice pulled her around to his side, leaning her against his side. "What're you doing Beej?" she hissed. "Just go with it Babes. Don't you wanna prove to him you're not interested?" "Well yeah, I guess. But mind the hands. Try and keep it at least to a PG-13 instead of a XXX ok?" "I'll do my best," he promised. Satisfied, she molded herself against him, letting her arms wrap loosely around him while his hand slid along her back and rested on her hip. Prince Vince's eyes widened then narrowed at the sight as he stepped from the coach, and thunder clapped around them, giving away his displeasure. "Merry Christmas Crowe," he said, deliberately ignoring Beetlejuice. "Merry Christmas Vince. Are you having a good holiday?" Crowe asked, purposely hugging Beetlejuice tighter, to remind the prince that he was there. "Gloomy as usual," Prince Vince sighed dismally. "I spent it alone as I always have. Yours?" "Oh my Christmas was wonderful. Look at what Beej got me," Crowe showed off her bracelet and earrings. "They're an engagement present. Cost a fortune, but, he tells me I deserve the best and he'll get it for me," she slapped a soppy look on her face, gazing up at Beetlejuice adoringly. He grimaced internally. Laying it on a little thick there Babes, he thought. Luckily, Prince Vince bought it. Beej snorted, he'd always thought him a thick in the head.

Prince Vince inspected the bracelet, taking care not to handle Crowe too intimately with Beetlejuice plastered to her side. "It's…lovely. Congratulations to you both," he said finally, looking as though he'd just gulped down a bag of atomic war head candies. "Thanks. It is lovely isn't it? And to get the earrings to match," Crowe heaved a delicate sigh, trailing off eloquently. "You know, they look an awful lot like a set I saw at the mall recently," Vince noted. "However did you afford them Beetlejuice?" He inquired, a glint in his typically clouded eyes. Beetlejuice didn't let his insinuations faze him, "I'm an expert at haggling." "More like thievery and conning I'm sure," Vince muttered. "He's telling the truth Vince, I was with him," Crowe interjected, tightening her grip on BJ. "Of course you were. Well, a merry Christmas to you both. I have important business elsewhere," Prince Vince turned without another word and climbed into his coach, urging the driver to lead them away quickly.

The minute the coach was gone, Crowe and BJ burst into laughter, each using the other for support. "God, I give myself an award for that," Crowe wheezed, wiping a tear from her eye. "Really Babes? I thought you over did it myself," BJ told her. "I did not! I was amazing!" "Not unless the definition of 'amazing' has changed in the past 600 years. You were so over done there." "Well he bought it didn't he?" Crowe snapped. "Aww, don't get mad Babes," Beetlejuice floated above the snow, and pulled her up. "I'm not mad," she grumbled, taking his hand anyway. "Sound mad to me." "Well I'm not. Merely frustrated," Crowe insisted. "With what?" "With you! You give me gorgeous earrings and awesome socks, and then shoot down my attempts at making the Prince back off. Can't you be nice to me for a whole day? Especially since it's Christmas?" "But Ba-aabes," he whined, "I don't do nice. I'm mean, it's what I do. I can't be nice, even on holidays, for too long." "Oh come on," Crowe pouted, "Please? I mean, you could at least take me to the movies, like you promised me you would a few months ago."

Beetlejuice tried not to look down at Crowe. He knew she was pulling the same thing her mom had that was always effective against him. But he couldn't help it. Maybe he was a glutton for punishment. He looked at her. Her eyes were wide, and shiny with tears, and her lower lip was trembling. He would've sworn she was whimpering. "Fine. I'll take you to the damned movies," he growled. "Yay!" Instantly her tears were gone, and he knew they'd been faked. "Now that was an academy award winning performance Babes." "Thank you, thank you, I do what I can. I'd like to thank the little people," Crowe bowed low. And while she was bowed, he shoved a handful of snow down the back of her jacket. She squealed, and jumped around, trying to get the snow out. "You…bastard! That was so goddamn mean!" "Sorry Babes. Couldn't resist," BJ cackled. "I'm not turning my back on you again," Crowe grumbled. "I can live with that," BJ answered, eyeing her with one brow raised. "The fact that you can still find me hot even bundled up like this worries me a little bit. But, y'know, I'm flattered…I think." "Why worries," Beej asked, clasping her hand and leading her along. "You're dead, but your sex drive is still alive and kicking, more alive that most people's entire bodies. It's a bit perplexing," she answered. "Babes, you try going from being a damn near libertine to 600 plus years of celibacy and being calm, cool, and collected all the time." "Well, Beej, see, can't miss what you've never had. I'm finding it more than a little hard to put myself in your shoes. And what do you mean a libertine? You mean like a player? With lots of girlfriends?" "That is exactly what I mean. It was ok back then," Beetlejuice grinned. "And now you're committed to just me? Me. One girl. And I have to somehow manage to satisfy over six hundred years of pent up lust all on my own. Christ."

Beej laughed at her the rest of the trip to the movies. She put it so bluntly, completely taking the hotness out of it. She made it sound so…scientific. It was ridiculous. And very much like Lyds. Crowe didn't appreciate the laughter that was aimed directly towards her. She ignored him, giving him the cold shoulder until he ceased, and started to pester her to pay attention to him once more. "You're such a child," she snapped. "Am not!" "You're a spoiled brat of a ghost," she continued, a smirk spreading over her lips. Now that the shoe was on the other foot, she was enjoying herself. "Well so are you," he answered, only starting to realize she was teasing him. "Not a ghost hun," she retorted. "Doesn't mean you're not spoiled. You're such a daddy's girl it's not even funny." She glowered at him. "And guess what Babes. You're the one that started this cycle of meanness this time," BJ grinned triumphantly. Crowe growled under her breath, hating to admit that he was right. "Can we just get to the movies please?"

A sharp whistle sounded, and Crowe looked beneath them. Doomie was following them, easily keeping pace. She looked questioningly at Beej. "We're going to the drive-in Babes. Kinda hard to sit and watch the movie without a car." "Oh, right," Crowe answered slowly, still leery of the car. Beetlejuice lowered them slowly until with a sudden drop they were sitting in Doomie and pulling into a spot at the drive-in right before the screen. "What are we seeing anyway?" Crowe asked. BJ looked at her from the corner of his eye. "You're not going to tell me, are you?" she sighed heavily. He shook his head. She rolled her eyes upward, simply accepting it for what it was. He made it his mission in afterlife to be the most annoying ghost ever. No sense fighting with him about it all the time. It would grow tedious real fast. Besides, the movie was starting.

Roughly two hours later, Beetlejuice was immensely proud of himself for agreeing to take her to the movies. He never would've thought she'd get scared so easily, but then again, the Neitherworld did make their movies better and scarier than anything the real world could ever hope to achieve. Crowe peered around his arm, which she'd held onto shortly after hiding her face in his chest. She was nearly as pale as him, and her eyes were like saucers. "Is it over?" she whispered. "Yeah. You can come out now Babes," he sniggered. She shakily sat up, and gave a nervous giggle. "I've never, ever been scared of a movie before. But that was insane. Seriously, what was that?" "A Neitherworld horror flick. We make the best here," Beej preened. "Amazing job. I don't even know what happened; I covered my eyes most of the time. But I got enough, trust me," Crowe grinned. "Yeah, I figured from the way you hid against me and how your voice is right now," BJ teased her. "Shut up. Is not," Crowe said indignantly. Beej clapped his hands over his ears, "Careful Babes, you're reaching levels only dogs can here." He was rewarded for his snark by a swift smack in the back of the head. "Not cool Babes. Really not cool."

The day Crowe was to return to school dawned chilly and grey, suiting of the events to follow. Beetlejuice was curled up at her feet as the striped dog, keeping her feet almost warm and enjoying being allowed on the bed. He, with his keen sense of smell, was the first to notice something was wrong. He lifted his nose to the air, scenting. He smelled death, fresh, not like him. No, this was recent, with the pungent smell of putrefaction as a chaser. His nose crinkled in distaste at the sharp smell. That was something even he wouldn't want to roll in.

"Babes, wake up. Something doesn't smell right," BJ snuffled her hand, urging her to wake. Crowe's hand flopped boneless, to her mattress, and she turned over. "Crowe, wake up. Now!" in a last ditch effort, BJ nipped her hand, not enough to break the skin, but enough to get her attention. "Ow! Beetlejuice! What the hell?" "Babes, something died in here," he answered, tail hitting the bed in an anxious rhythm. "What?" Crowe's mind was still fuzzy with the remnants of sleep. She rubbed at her eyes and tried to focus. "Something died?" "Yeah!" "Well lead me to it!"

Beetlejuice leapt of the bed, but didn't have to follow his nose far. He hung his head regretfully. Oh she was going to be so upset. "Babes, it's here," he tossed his head towards her two tanks. The ones Frankie and Axl had inhabited. Axl was twisted up in his running wheel, his peppercorn eyes bulging from his little furry face. The worst of the smell though was from Frankie's tank. For reasons unknown, he had, for all intents and purposes liquefied. And being an undead frog didn't help matters. Beej watched as Crowe became as green as the mess in the tank, before running into the bathroom and heaving the contents of her stomach into the toilet. He changed into his usual self, and crept in, laying a hand on her back. She turned a tearstained face up at him. Oh no, not tears. He couldn't stand tears.

"Why? That's what I want to know? Why both of them, and in just like that?" "I don't know Babes. I know that Frankie at least shouldn't have happened. I brought him back myself, he should have lasted until I said so. And you loved him, so I wouldn't have just done that. As for the rat, Axl, he seemed smart enough to not get tangled in the wheel. I wanna say it's a freak accident. But it feel's different from that. I could find out for you," BJ offered. She shook her head, "Not now. I just want to give them a proper burial." He nodded, understanding. Crowe stood and poked her head out of the door, calling for Ollie. She brought him in to show him what had happened. "I'm not feeling much like school today. If it's all the same to you, I'd like to stay home, and give them a good funeral. Can I…can I have a plastic container f-for Frankie?" Ollie frowned, hearing the catch in her voice. He simply had to open his arms, and she collapsed, crying once more, her shoulders shaking. He spared a glance at Beetlejuice, who shrugged as if to say, "I don't know how to help."

Shortly thereafter, Crowe recovered enough to let go of her dad and sit inelegantly on her bed. "I'll get you a container, and a shovel. I'll help you give them a proper burial, and of course you can stay home today. I'll be right back," Ollie pat her on the head, and left to the kitchen. Crowe sniffled, rubbing her nose, which was bright red, as were her eyes. She looked like a right mess, with the tearful face and hair in tangled loops and knots, and her pajamas disheveled. BJ became the dog once more, and rested his head on her knee, giving her mournful eyes. Crowe let out a hiccupping sob, and rubbed his head, scratching his ears. His tail thumped against her leg, and he whined. "What?" she asked. "What do you mean what? Aren't I allowed to play the mournful, loyal dog to make you feel better?" "Is that what you're doing?" "Trying to anyway." Crowe laughed softly, and kissed her finger tips, then pressed them to the top of his head.

Ollie came back with a plastic container to put Frankie's remains in, as well as another for Axl, and a shovel. Crowe stepped into her boots and pulled her jacket on. She dug the graves herself, not caring when her hands blistered and cracked from the strain of breaking through the frozen ground. With a final, soft good bye she laid the two little coffins in the ground, covering them and setting a large flat rock as a marker. "It ok if I say something?" BJ asked. "Go ahead," Crowe answered in a thick voice. "Well, I didn't really know Axl, but he was good, for a rat. He was your friend. And Frankie was probably the best undead frog, and showed how much Babes there cares about animals, whether they're alive or dead. Which I like. So, I'm sorry you had to die like this." "Thanks Beej," Crowe said gratefully. "Yeah, thank you," Ollie added. "Crowe, sweetie, I've got to go to work at the mall today. Will you two be ok?" "Fine, we'll be fine daddy. Promise," Crowe assured him. She looked far from fine, but he let it go. He didn't even order BJ to behave himself. Which didn't go unnoticed by the ghost, but one look at Crowe told him it wasn't a good time. Hell, he was actually a bit upset about it himself.

"Babes?" he was ignored.

"Babes, you'll freeze if you stay out there all day."

"Don't care."

"C'mon Babes. Come inside."

"Don't want to. Leave me alone Beetlejuice."

Beetlejuice would not be ignored like that. He looked one more time at Crowe sitting on her balcony, wrapped up in a blanket, staring out across the yard. Tears balanced precariously on her lashes, threatening to spill over or freeze there. BJ flew inside, and tried to think of the one thing that would get her inside in the warmth. Hot chocolate? No, that would take too long. Same with soup or anything hot to eat. A book? TV? A movie? No, no, and no. But…there was one thing she couldn't resist.

Crowe cringed and nearly leapt from her chair at the screeching guitar, followed by insane caterwauling. If the windows didn't break it would be a miracle. It sounded like it was supposed to be music, but it was like nothing Crowe had ever heard before. Which lead her to believe Beej had something to do with it. "Beetlejuice! What the bloody hell are you doing?!" she yelled, flinging the blanket off her shoulders and stomping inside. Why wouldn't he just let her mourn in peace? What if she wanted to freeze out there? He should be pleased actually. If she died, she could be with him forever. But no, he had to force her inside, into the warmth and the light. Damn him.

Any angry words Crowe would have laid on BJ fled from her mind at the sight that greeted her in the living room. If this was supposed to cheer her up…well, it at least got her mind off the funeral she'd attended not an hour and a half ago. He had crammed himself into black leather pants, a distinct muffin top drooping over the waist. A torn up leather vest flapped over his bare chest, and a black bandana was tied around his hair. His pants were tucked into mid calf high combat boots. BJ was clutching a microphone and attempting to sing into it. Though what he was doing could not legally be called singing. Nor could the obscene writhing he was doing be called dancing. He looked like a dead, chubby, drunk Axl Rose.

Beej opened his eyes and spotted Crowe gaping at him. "You like?" "B, what the hell…I don't even have the words…" she stammered. "I'm trying to make you feel better," he faltered. She didn't like it? "And how is this supposed to make me feel better? You butchering my favorite song?" "It just is. C'mon," he held out his hand to her. She took it, giving him a skeptical look. He went over to the stereo, turning up the volume. The song went on, mercifully unaccompanied by BJ. Though he didn't change as he pulled Crowe up into the air, spinning around and dancing. As the song changed to "I Like the Way You Move" by the Bodyrockers, then "Poison" by Alice Cooper, Crowe's mood did lighten. She couldn't help laughing at him as he attempted to sing seductively to her. It was cute, in an abnormal way. Though of course she'd never call him that to his face. He wouldn't like it much.

When Ollie returned from work that evening, bearing a bag of dinner from KFC, he found Crowe curled up on the living room floor, her head resting on Beetlejuice's thigh and a small smile on her lips. He was asleep as well, one arm draped over her shoulder in a gallant display of comfort. The ghost drowsily opened one eye and glanced Ollie's way.

"Thanks BJ."

"Don't mention it pops. Ever."

A/N: well, it has been a while since I last updated. Sorry about that. It happens. I mean, it's finals week at school. Anyways, thanks for the review. Here's hoping for more in the future, eh?