Beetlejuice, Lydia, the neitherworld… They don't belong to me. I just love them so much I want to take them in both arms, rip open my chest cavity, and stuff them inside forever, right next to my heart. Of course, if they were mine, just look what I'd do to them… But that being said, please don't sue me, okay?

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So much for nano writing month, or whatever it is... Looks like I didn't make the deadline. Oh well.

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The first thing that Lydia noticed, on waking, was that there was a lot more room to stretch this morning. This was followed, as she opened her eyes blearily, and gave her surroundings a cursory once over, by this realization; sometime during the course of the night, someone had broken her bed.

And then of course, she remembered, and turned a rather unusual shade of pale pink. She didn't get up right away. Instead she lay there, staring at the place where she'd seen him, and wondered if, evidence non-withstanding, the whole thing might have been a dream. Because in an after the fact kind of way, it really did feel like, well, just a fantastically good sex dream. She'd certainly had them about Beetlejuice before… Especially since the incident in the bathroom.

Upon realizing that she was lying there naked though, her clothes torn to shreds and tossed randomly about the room, the evidence became overwhelming. Okay then. It wasn't a dream. Now what?

Now her blush returned, and she belatedly covered herself with her blanket, which on closer inspection, smelled of that familiar Beetlejuice smell. She wondered when he'd left… He'd waited until she fell asleep. Hell though, she'd pretty much fallen out right away, so that might not be saying much. Did he, leave anything? Some sign that he'd come back?

Standing, a little unsteadily at first, she kept the blanket wrapped around her shoulders, and took another look around the room, to see if he'd left something, anything. Her heart as if turned out, never had a chance to sink in doubt, because there, not five feet from her window, was a small pile of clothes. Topped, rather elegantly, with her red poncho.

Her heart, unbeating though it might be, faltered, then swelled with sudden, savage joy, as she ran across to grasp the silken thing in both hands, letting her blanket fall away. As she lifted it, a gleam of metal shone in the meager light, followed by a soft, musical, 'clink.'

Looking instinctively to see what it was, Lydia swore she felt a ghostly hand caress the back of her neck, prickling her skin with goosebumps and cool breath. Tears sprung to her eyes as she bent down to retrieve her locket, twisting it between her fingers to see their picture etched on the back, the words 'Beetle's Babes,' inscribed comfortingly below. The chain was still broken, but it didn't matter. She knew now. She knew he was coming back. One way or another.

She sank to her knees, the red silk clutched in one hand, the necklace clutched in the other, and let her tears fall in relief, without a sound. Some she wiped on her poncho, which made her laugh in turn. It was only some time later that she gathered enough of herself to actually dress… Grinning like an idiot the whole time, her thoughts torn between the pleasure of the night before, and the hope she felt now.

Throwing the door open, she made both Jacques and Ginger jump, noticeably. She immediately felt bad for what they'd been through, neither one looked like they'd slept much the night before, but their smiles, as they greeted her, seemed genuine.

It was Ginger who noticed what she was wearing of course, guys rarely noticed that kind of thing, but all she did was press her lips together, and look worried. No berating, no warning, just a slight, uncomfortable look, that said she knew that Beetlejuice had come back. In her house. Probably while she'd been trying, and failing, to sleep.

"Bon waking!" Jacques greeted her, just a little less cheerily than the previous morning. "Zere eez our lee-tle 'ero! Standing up to ze devil 'imself, and not showing any worse zee wear for it!" His summation of the night before made her shift uncomfortably, and want, instinctively, to defend Beetlejuice… But there really was no way to do that, was there?

"'M not a hero." She murmured, taking her place at the table, and accepting her bowl of the poorly named 'gruel.' "Didn't really think he'd hurt me." But was that true? Maybe she should settle for a half truth… "Never has before, anyway." There, that worked.

"Zee lady who tamez zee ti-gar…" He sighed, as if just how exactly this had happened, made no sense to him at all. "I suppose eet happens to zee best of us… Vhy not zee worst as vell?"

The lady and the tiger… Lydia grimaced, she'd had to read that story in her freshman year, and the unfinishedness of it had haunted her ever since. She hated that story, not just because there was no way to know how it ended, but because there was no way for it to end well. Which tragedy was a small point… Even if it did eat at her.

If it were Beetlejuice though, he'd have picked the tiger, killed it with his bare hands, and then come for her. And no friggin royal, noble, whatever, would stop him. The thought made her smile.

"You're in a good mood this morning, sugar." Ginger noted slowly, pointedly placing all her attention on her bowl of food. "Should I take it that everything's hunky dory, then?" And if there was just a trace of sarcasm to it, it was probably best overlooked.

Lydia reflected that any chance she'd had of being real friends with these two, was pretty much shot the moment Beetlejuice broke one into pieces, and tried to erase both from the face of the neitherworld. Never mind that she'd risked herself by getting in the way… Something had been broken, and broken beyond repair. Each put on a friendly face, made polite conversation, but… It wasn't the same.

It seemed a little odd to her, to regret that. To regret anything, when it seemed like everything that meant anything to her, was once more falling into reach. Beetlejuice had always been enough before… She'd made that one foolish attempt for more, but it wasn't what she'd really wanted. Now it seemed, sad somehow, to have the rest of eternity, and only one soul to share it with.

But if it must be just one, it's him. No question. Truthfully, even if it was a choice between a whole gaggle of close friends, and just him, the choice was still easy. So she too, pointedly avoided looking at the two that might have been friends, but for… well. No use going over that, was there?

"Can you tell me if the local bus runs to the Freaky Ice Cream Shop?" She prompted out of the blue, deciding to spare the two any more of her presence than necessary. It only managed though, to make them both jump a little, before calming enough to answer.

"Eet eez, not so far." Jacques answered, granting her a tired smile. "I must vork today, at zee gym. Billz to pay, vou know… But if vou need bus fare…"

"That's okay, I found a little money in my pockets." A little money? Beetlejuice had left her the better part of four hundred dollars, as she'd discovered, upon inspecting said pockets. "I can pay you back for the phone call, gas maybe, for picking me up…" Jacques quickly made an excuse, clearing the dishes, almost before she'd finished hers.

Ginger, by this point, was already making excuses as well, this time as to why she had to leave. "Rehearsals, sugar! I got this nifty little part… And well, you know what they say, there are no small parts, just small entertainers!" And before Lydia knew it, she was alone with Jacques.

The skeleton was not in such a hurry to leave, though there was no doubt that the house would be decidedly empty, if Beetlejuice chose to make a visit at some point. Which was probably just as well. Lydia figured that the best thing was to leave first, to avoid any more awkward silences.

It wasn't that it bothered her so much, she was pretty much okay with the way things were going to turn out, but Jacques… He was a genuinely nice guy. And a gentleman, to boot. He probably figured he was being a coward, not speaking up in some effort to save her from herself…

"See you later, Jacques!" She noted, probably far too cheerily. She couldn't help it, she was in a good mood. Her planets were aligning, or whatever crap. She just wished this hadn't worked out so badly for the two of them.

"Mizz Lydia!" Jacques said suddenly, just when it seemed that he wasn't going to offer anything, not even a goodbye. She paused, hand on the door, so close to escaping… And turned, with a resigned twist to her lips. Jacques of course looked very serious, and also understandably hesitant. "I… I vas intent to save vou, Mizz Lydia," He noted after a moment, as if the words shamed him, "And in zee end, eet ees vou, who are forced to save me. I- I am zo zorry… Vou must think so, lee-tle of me…"

Lydia found herself completely at a loss for words. Her first instinct was to just, she didn't know, hug him or something, and tell him everything would be all right. Of course in her case, that was pretty much the absolute worst thing she could do… "Jacques," It came out as a murmur, fond, gentle, and sad, "You have been brave and noble and selfless. I'm, sorry it turned around and kicked you in the ass so bad."

"Please, please don't change being wonderful, just because of me."

A thick laugh, as Jacques shook his head, still bent over dishes he'd finished washing some point ago. "On zee contrary, Mizz Lydia… Vou give these poor bones 'ope. If such as vour Beatle-joose can find zomething vithin 'imself to redeem…Zis neitherworld, she may not be so lost as I 'ave feared. And if one such as vourself can ztand bevore zis old skeleton, against such a one… I 'ave no regrets, being zee gentle-skeleton 'oo did try to save vou."

A pause, following this, and then softly, "I am zorry, Mizz Lydia… Zat I could not save you." And this of course, was his real shame… Not that he hadn't been able to before, but that he wasn't going to try again. It had to go against everything he believed of himself.

But Beetlejuice… Well, there was nothing to be done of it. "But you did save me." She whispered, not sure if she really wanted him to hear, when she knew her words wouldn't make much sense. "Everything's going to be all right now. I know it." But he wouldn't believe those words. He wouldn't understand that the last thing she ever wanted, was to be saved from her best friend.

So she left him there, without another word. He would have been a good friend… But she wasn't giving Beetlejuice up for anything. No matter what.

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He nursed his drink, as he had been for the better part of the last two hours. He had no intention of letting the heady liquor go, well, to his head. He was just killing time. Bereft of his favorite black and white suit, a narrow brimmed hat pulled down to shadow his features, any other telltale feature buried in the shapeless coat. Waiting for the right guy to enter the bar. It could be one of several. Which one didn't matter at this point. He'd find the one he was looking for.

Subtlety had never been one of Beetlejuice's strong suits, that didn't mean he couldn't call on it, when the incentive was right. So he sipped his tall drink, ankles crossed, gazing off at seemingly nothing. The picture of someone drowning his sorrows… He'd been in the bar for the better part of three hours. So far, no one had paid him so much as one glance, much less two. He could be patient… This wasn't just about revenge anymore. This was about getting what was his.

Of course it was only a matter of time. He'd fully expected it to take days, willing to make his own luck, as he usually did, only to have his prey dropped not twenty feet from his lap as the heavy iron door swung open, and the massive rolling shape made its way in. There was nothing special about him. Nothing that marked him as the one Beetlejuice had been waiting for. But he'd long made a point of knowing who was who in the neitherworld… And it was all Beetlejuice could do not to smile.

Completely unassuming, the guy wore none of the flamboyant robes suited to his station, walked with none of the self importance that the sort usually did. He was a brown skinned toad, with a squat forehead, thick stubby fingers, and large wet eyes. His appearance said that this was only the most recent of many bars he'd been frequenting of late… Drowning his fear in neitherworld liquor.

Not a bad idea, when you've recently made enemies with the neitherworld's most dangerous poltergeist… Unless said poltergeist happens to know one of your favorite spots to drink.

The best part of the whole thing of course, was that the guy was setting himself up. True, this particular fool had the ability to drink like a fish, but so much the better. Let him drink all he wanted, let him get good and drunk, and make Beetlejuice's job that much easier. There'd be plenty of time for him to sober up later…

But if Beetlejuice was going to be here a few more hours, he needed another drink.

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Lydia had never experienced anything quite like riding the neitherworld bus… It seemed to her that half the given dead must be on it as well, at any given time. She was sandwiched between dozens of bodies, pressed so tightly that it was good she didn't need to breathe, because she simply wasn't able to.

On her left, a man who'd apparently died of overeating, his gut pressed rather unpleasantly into her face, with god only knew what moving around inside it. To her right, a woman with an ice-pick through her head, who'd apparently never seen cause to remove it. Just before her, two people, heavens knew why, sewn together, having an animated discussion about needlework. The rest she simply couldn't see. Too many walls of flesh.

Thank goodness no one smelled bad… Which in retrospect, seemed a little odd, as everyone there was dead…

It took a feat resembling nothing so much as contortionism to wrestle herself to the door when her stop was announced, she was pretty sure she'd stepped on someone in the process, but didn't have time to look back or apologize. If she didn't get off, now, she'd be miles from her stop before her next chance came.

Then of course, she slid in something, fell to the floor, and was the one trying not to get stepped on, as she crawled amid the myriad of limbs to reach the doors, and just before they closed, falling out onto the cold concrete.

She wanted to lay there, a little dazed, her hand throbbing from where someone had nearly crushed it, trying not to wonder what she'd slipped in, but such small mercies weren't allowed. She was forced to stumble to her feet, quickly, to avoid being stepped on again, this time by a crowd of businessmen packed into a small group like sardines, hurrying down the sidewalk like one crushed entity, never mind that there was no one else in sight.

Her head reeling a little, Lydia swore to herself then and there, never to take the bus again. A cab, maybe. Walking even. But never the bus.

Still a little groggy on her feet, Lydia made her way to the door of the Freaky Ice-Scream Shop, and had one bizarre moment of hilarity when she saw the sign proudly proclaiming that the Chef's Hand had given the place three fingers… Only no one had ever quite gotten around to changing said chef's picture, from when Beetlejuice had altered it, so many years ago. So said chef stood there proudly, flipping off the world with a broad grin on his face.

Everything in the neitherworld changes so slowly… I guess that includes me now, too. She pushed open the door, to be met by a small metallic tinkle, and a rush of cool, sweet smelling air. She suddenly had an intense craving for eye-scream, even though she'd only come here because it was the most familiar place she knew. Let's see… One thousand, seven hundred, and seventy-three flavors… And no longer limited by what a living body could tolerate. Which one to choose?

In the end though, she settled on one she knew well, sloppy fudge with coffee crumble. She waited her turn in line, not really noticing how many people were watching her, an unhappy set to their eyes. She didn't really notice how utterly unwelcome she was in fact, until she reached the counter, and the woman behind it, if she could be called that, gave her quite possibly the nastiest look she'd ever received.

Deciding that the best route was simply to pretend she didn't notice, Lydia ordered her eye-scream, even managed to put a smile on her face while doing so, despite the haggard state she felt in after that bus ride. After all, as she reminded herself yet again, she had reason to be in a good mood. The only man she'd ever loved, was starting to love her again. After this, nothing could keep them apart.

But the woman, not yet moving to get her sweet, just continued to stare, the moles on her lips twisted up into an unpleasant connect the dot. "Suppose you'll be paying for it, then?" She prompted suddenly, more than a little sarcasm to her tone. "Suppose without that madman with you, you've got no choice, do you? Ought to take advantage of the situation, make you pay for all the eye screams you've had over the years… Oh, but then he might find out about it, mightn't he?"

Lydia wasn't quite sure what she was talking about, but supposed it wasn't out of the question, that Beetlejuice had been bullying the shop into giving them free sweets all these years. She kept a close eye on the woman, suddenly suspecting that if she didn't, her eye scream might arrive spit on, but the woman was good to her job, and made no such attempt. She didn't however, stop giving Lydia her dirtiest look possible, as she pushed the dish across to her.

Lydia paid her three dollars, not quite able to shake the sense now, that every eye there was on her. But she took her treat, which held all of seven scoops, a fact she'd always loved, and dutifully took the same spot she always did, which as always, was empty. And she pointedly paid no mind to those staring.

It really wasn't that hard, once she started eating. Neitherworld chocolate, in her estimation, had always been the most wonderful tasting thing in the world, and the thick sludge that topped her eye-scream, chocolate eye scream, was also chocolate, thick enough to cling to a spoon held upside down, dark and rich, and filled with tiny granules of something super sweet. Nothing, she was quite pleased to note, like any living world version.

I could have died just for the chocolate, she mused, sucking a wad of the sludge off her spoon, before going in for another bite. God, why does anyone eat anything else?

Again, the tinkle of the door, and she looked up absently, utterly unfazed to see what looked like a fully grown man with a small child protruding from his chest. Conjoined twins, she figured. Though she was a bit shaky on the details, since one had obviously far outlived the other. In life, they must have been separated, in death, not so much so. But didn't neitherworld children usually age?

"I'll live here a dozen centuries," She noted under her breath, turning back to her dessert, "And never figure out how this place works." But that was fine. If there was one thing the neitherworld wasn't, it was dull. Good thing too, since this was her eternity…

Eternity. Now there was a hell of a big word. Spoon still clasped between her lips, she lidded her eyes, and pondered on that word, but for the afterlife of her, she just couldn't grasp it. Oh well, eternity was just one day at a time, after all… And it wasn't like she'd be alone. Not anymore…

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"Urrr…" The toad-man tried to lift his head, and evidently found, much to his consternation, that he couldn't. For that matter, he couldn't so much as twitch a finger. But when he did manage to roll his eyes up, he saw something that made him look suddenly, deathly ill.

"You know buddy, too much booze ain't good for you." Beetlejuice noted, still crouched on his toes on the chair across from him, balanced like some otherworldly fear. "Makes you let down your defenses. Slows your reaction time. Real stupid decision, when you got someone like me, gunning for you." Through it all, he sounded terribly, utterly calm. "But hell, I guess a smart guy like you would know that…"

Gurgling through a hole in his throat, the magus tried to summon the words of power that would free him, trying to lift his fingers to cast a sutra, only to find both efforts a miserable failure. The reason for the first became apparent, as the poltergeist lifted his hand, with a slow grin, to reveal something long, slippery, and bloody, dangling from his fingers. "Looking for this?" He prompted softly, before pulling a slender gleaming knife from his pocket, and with one massive strike, pinning the magus's tongue to the wooden table between them.

A cry of agony fell from the man's throat, as the pain from his separated organ ripped through his jaws, even unattached. Again he tried twisting his fingers, only to find himself bound by nothing he could see, not letting him lift an arm, not letting his raise his head.

Beetlejuice stood slowly, in the chair, until his head was lost to the sight of the royal mage, only to hop down lightly, stroll over to him in a companionable way, and hook his arm about the other's shoulder. The magus meanwhile, couldn't take his eyes from his trapped organ. "Now see, there's a certain way power works in the neitherworld… Stop me in you already know this. Now, there's inborn power, like mine…" And he let a jolt of his juice rip through the man's body, making him scream again, "And then there's taught magics, like the kind the king surrounds himself with. Like yours."

"Now, normally, that would leave us at a standoff," He went on smoothly, drawing away from him again, "If it weren't for one little thing." He pulled a slip of paper from his pocket, where the man could see it, no more than two inches across, and five down. Runes were inscribed all across the face of it. "See, I got bored a few hundred years ago, and decided to learn some of your magic for myself."

He slapped this slip of paper down on the table before him, and this time a completely different type of magic ripped through his captive, making him scream, twist, and otherwise fail to break free.

"You may wonder," Beetlejuice went on, showing every sharp tooth now, "What any of my problems with the king have to do with you. See now, this is where my studies come in. When I first realized that the king was the one who took my memories, I pretty much gave up hope. But then, I remembered! The spell to take someone's memory is… Shall we say, difficult to achieve. It takes centuries of practice." His hand on the magus's shoulder again, making the man flinch. "Practice, that I'm thinking, the king never bothered with. Why bother, when he has the best wizard's in the land at his beck and call?"

Beetlejuice patted him absently, drawing away, and pushing the table aside. He then drew the chair right up to his victim, but didn't yet take a seat, still pacing. "Now see, that makes my job a little easier, because it means that it's a magus with my memories, not a king." A significant glance. "Maybe it's you. Either way, the king can't tip his hand, which one. Apparently, the apple doesn't rot far from the tree, when it comes to thinking things through."

"Which brings us back to you." And now Beetlejuice rubbed his hands together, grinning with what could be called nothing less than anticipation. "Because see, you robe wearers? You can't keep secrets from each other worth shit. So chances are, you're either the one I'm looking for, or you know who is. Which for me, is a good thing. For you?" He clicked his tongue in a regretful way. "Not so much so."

"Ah, but don't worry," Beetlejuice added, leaving his line of sight for a moment, "I know the oaths you've taken, the vows you've sworn, never to betray the crown, or your fellow magi. And I understand, completely. I do. That's why I'm not asking you yet."

The sound of wheels, of metallic things shifting, and Beetlejuice came back into sight, pushing a surgical tray, smiling cheerfully. All his favorite tools and toys were placed precisely across the surface. He set it carefully to the side, just within sight, and sat back down in the chair across from the wizard. He took the man by the chin, lifting his head ever so marginally, just enough to see the mad, determined glint in the poltergeist's eyes. "Not yet." He said again, reaching over to the tray, and lifting his first instrument.

"No, I'm going to ask you in three days…"

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