If the world was the way I wanted it, not only would the idea for Beetlejuice be mine, but so would Beetlejuice himself. That is, alas, not the case. I don't own any of it, not Lyds, not Beej, not the Neitherworld... Basically not anything in these pages that can otherwise be accredited to Tim Burton, and/or the Geffen Film Company. Now, there is some stuff in here that is mine... But you? You're reading this for Beetlejuice... And Lydia. And them together. Am I right?

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Just so you know from the beginning, this chapter is not a broaching into how Olivia and Edmond are going to react to each other from now on... Or rather it is, but that's all it is. The question. I have no intention of answering it, at least not in this fic. Maybe ever.

Things change. As Beetlejuice would say... Screw normal.

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She was having a nightmare… She couldn't remember exactly how it had happened, but the gist of it was this… She was twelve years old again, trying to convince Beetlejuice that she should actually be much older, and that they were married, and the ghost with the most was laughing his ass off, not believing a word of it.

How she'd gone back in time, because clearly this was what she'd done, was a complete mystery, and quite frankly, one she didn't give much of a damn about. She was more concerned about putting things right, since more than anything, she wanted back the life she'd already had…

Unfortunately, her end all and be all idea of how to make that work, was to kiss the surprised poltergeist, like she had when she was older, and… Well, that didn't go over very well.

She woke up, still feeling incredibly frustrated, and took a long moment to examine her hands and arms, and the fact that yes, she had boobs, before turning to the slumbering Beetlejuice, satisfying herself that, yes, he was right where he was supposed to be. Yes, she was grown. It was all a dream. She just hadn't known it was a dream. And that pissed her off to no end.

Managing to refrain from punching her stubborn, still sleeping lover, she pulled the covers off, still irritable, and swung her legs over the side of the bed, making a face at the shadows. Damn it… Why the hell would she have a dream like that, anyway? But there was only one thing to be done for it, after all… Barb had taught her that.

She needed some hot chocolate.

Lydia didn't bother turning on any lights… She'd lived in that house all her life, and knew every step of it now by heart. And since Barb went to such pains to keep everything in its place, there wasn't any risk of tripping over clutter… Truth be told, she liked finding her way in the dark. Not just because she could, but… Well, because her mind was flooded by enough images during the day, and at night, it was just nice to let it rest. Not think of anything, but the hot cocoa she would soon make.

By the time she'd gotten halfway down the stairs though, the rich smell of sweet steam quickly told her that someone else had already had much the same idea she had… She wondered if it was Barbara or her mother. Adam had always preferred coffee, or straight warm milk, with sugar, so it probably wasn't him. And she hoped it wasn't her mother. She was just so miserable lately…

Come to think of it, did she really want to be dragged into a late night conversation with either of the two female authority figures in her life? Insofar as she'd ever worried about authority, anyway… She thought about turning around, going back upstairs, and going to sleep without any help, but quickly nixed that idea. She wasn't supposed to be running from her problems anymore… Or her family. So whoever was in that kitchen, she made up her mind to-

She stopped, quite sharply, in her tracks, as the low light in the kitchen cast its light on those at the table. Her mother and… her father. The last people she expected to see sitting around their kitchen table in the middle of the night.

Fortunately, her bare feet hadn't made any sound on the solid wooden floor, so after a brief moment to compose herself, she took a quick step back, well out of any fear of being seen, and considered the two of them there. Talking. Not laughing, or touching hands, or leaning in to each other the way they once had… But quietly, without animosity… Like two old friends.

Wondering vaguely when this had happened, Lydia's next thought, naturally, was whether or not she could get closer, and find out what they were saying… Immediately followed by a flush of embarrassment, at the realization that she wanted to take away from her parents, the same privacy she expected them to offer so easily to her.

Still. Maybe just a little.

Getting down on her hands and knees, she leaned into the wall just past the door, no longer looking directly at their shapes, outlined by candlelight, but listening. If her parents were on friendly terms again, that was great. She just wanted to know how.

At first, neither one of them said anything… Nothing she could make out, anyway. Just sort of quite mumbles, leaving her cursing her miserable human ears, and wishing she could pull some shit like Beej, and make them bigger. All right, so what secrets were those two keeping…? Finally a few words started to make sense to her… Her mother's, first. "-thinking about what you said. About her being happy."

"And?" Her father pressed quietly, his voice, while bereft of bitterness or accusation, not exactly open either. "She is happy, Olivia."

"I know." Her mother sounded a bit flustered. "With him. I can't believe it. But she is." A small pause, as if she still couldn't quite accept this yet… Before she made a small, frustrated, sad sound, reflecting angrily, "I don't understand it! How can those two be happy, and…!"

"And we're not?" The question, though it should have been obvious, surprised Lydia more than a little, making her press more closely to the wall, in hopes of picking up some more little details. Some nuance to their voices, something! "Honestly Liv, I think it didn't work for us, because it was always too easy. We never got past our honeymoon phase, even after Lydia was born. We just sort of sidestepped everything." A pause, before, quietly, he admitted, "I don't think either one of us knew the first thing about being in a real relationship."

"So, I suppose they do?" This part, a little tiredly, when she would have expected her mother to be flippant, dismissive. "Edmond, our daughter is a teenager, and that- man- is… impossible." Still she didn't raise her voice. "He doesn't have a single redeemable quality. He doesn't even bathe, for god's sake!"

Another pause, where she couldn't see what was going on, for fear of being seen. Then her father, speaking again. "Hygiene issues aside," He acknowledged, a strange, sort of amused note to his tone now, "Those two had to have run into problems from the first time they met. The fact that they couldn't let on about it, not the least of them." A soft sound, like a second, softer acknowledgement. "It would seem they've learned to deal with them."

"I can't believe that." Olivia denied coldly… But not as if she had much will left to argue about it. "Lydia has to be holding up that relationship completely by herself… And when she realizes that…"

"What?" A gentle prodding, when she didn't finish. "You think this, world of the dead law, works the way ours does? They're married, Liv… I don't think there's any safety net for them. Either of them. At this point, we can only hope they can stay happy together."

This time the pause was longer. Long enough for Lydia to peer around the corner, to make sure she hadn't been discovered… And be surprised, by the sight of her father's hand, gently on Olivia's shoulder. Surprised even more, by her mother's next words… "Do you know?" Quietly, almost guiltily, like she shouldn't be saying what she was about to say, "I'm not even sure I care half as much as I should. She's my daughter, and all I keep thinking is that she got herself into this mess herself. It's her responsibility now, happy or not. That I've done all I can… Even if that's not true."

Clearly her father wasn't expecting this, and didn't immediately know how to respond. He started to pull his hand away, only to have it caught by Olivia, and squeezed, gently, in the flickering firelight. "Then why did you ask me to come here?" He asked, just a little more carefully than his tone had been until now… Like there was suddenly a wall between them. "If it wasn't Lydia you want to talk about…?"

"I missed you." Said so softly, that at first, Lydia almost missed it. From her father's stillness, she might be forgiven for thinking he had too. "You were my best friend for almost twenty-five years, Edmond. And I never even told you." Her voice wavered, a little, when he said nothing. "I know I thought…"

"You thought you could just push me out of your life, and not care." He finished, softly, his own tone still not bitter, but no warmer than it had been only moments before. "Out of my life, out of my family, like I'd never really been a part of it in the first place." A small, weighted pause, before his words returned, suddenly almost straining under that brief silence. "Do you know what I gave up for you?"

"Yes." It was said very quietly, but without hesitation, as if, unlike him, she'd come to peace with it, and he should have too. "You gave up your family, your choice of college, your-"

"I gave up everything." She couldn't see for sure, but she thought that if her dad was still holding Olivia's hand, it must be very tightly now. "And I never regretted it. Not for one instant. Not even now. And I swear to god I never will." This said though, his upper body leaning in close the whole time… He suddenly seemed to lose his intensity, and slump back again, slowly. "But you, Olivia… The only thing you were ever willing to give up, was me."

This time, Olivia seemed lost for anything to say… She just stared at him, quietly, in the darkness. Until, finally, the last words she ever would have expected to leave her mother's lips… "I'm sorry."

Sorry. Sorry? It was all Lydia could do to remain silent, and it was at this point that the whole eavesdropping thing started to feel like a bad idea. For the life of her, for some reason she didn't understand, she didn't want to hear her mother apologize. Olivia never apologized for anything. She never regretted anything. She was the most proud, stubborn woman Lydia knew… Other than herself.

And it was unsettling, somehow, to hear her admit that she might have been wrong. Never mind how many times Lydia had wanted to drag those words out of her herself.

All her father said, softly, was, "I'm sorry too, Liv."

But clearly, this wasn't enough for her mother, who shook her head, frustrated, and pressed on… As if now that she'd said it, there was a whole lot more she wanted to say, a whole lot more she wanted to apologize for. "I was a stupid, spoiled brat." Just a whisper, sort of a plea, for him to understand this… To understand that she had been. That she wasn't anymore. -Though where this sudden desperation for him to understand had come from, Lydia had no idea. "I didn't deserve you, I-"

"Stop it." Quietly, but spoken with a strength that she hadn't heard from her father in some time now. "I don't want to hear you talking about yourself like that."

A pause, then softly, defeatedly, "But it's true."

"Olivia…"

And that was all she could take from that, scooting backwards silently before getting to her feet, doing her best not to hear a single word more, as she left her parents alone to finish their conversation, none the wiser. Her throat felt thick and sore, and she didn't know for sure why she felt angry, but she held onto the emotion as she moved, a little more clumsily now, up the stairs, and back to her bedroom. It was easier to feel angry, than feel sorry for either one of them. Like her mother had said of her, they'd gotten into this mess themselves. She shouldn't care either way.

Still though, the feeling of unease wouldn't go away… The knowledge, in the back of her mind, that Olivia had been begging her father to come back, and what that might mean. What it might mean for the Maitlands, what it might mean for her… Their family was broken, but it still made sense to her. If her father came back… He wasn't meant to deal with the dead. What did that mean? What would happen?

She rubbed her hand angrily across her eyes, refusing to let any tears fall. She hated crying, she hated being weak, and she would not be weak for them. Pushing the door open silently, she considered Beetlejuice, laying there on their bed, and wondered again, briefly, if things would always be good for them. Most mortal marriages didn't last twenty years… They had a lot longer than that ahead of them.

"I can't imagine my life without you, Beej." She whispered, finally wiping away a tear that just wouldn't stay put. "Goddamnit, I will not let that happen to us."

Naturally, she should have been tipped off by the fact that he wasn't snoring, but she was still surprised when Beetlejuice rolled over, lifted one brow, and looked at her quizzically, not saying a word. After a moment, he smirked, and gestured, with one finger, for her to come lay down with him.

Lydia laughed, abandoning all her fears in the face of the guy she, after all, couldn't imagine her life without, and swung the door closed, coming over next to him on the bed, and smiling down at the half dead man through wet eyes. For his part, he reached out, took her firmly by the waist, with both hands, and lifted her up to sit on top of him, searching her features in the dark with his sharp, otherworldly gaze.

"Hey, babes." He greeted her softly, for once in his life, seeming to know exactly how to respond to her likeliness to crumble at any moment… And not even asking what had caused it. "You look like shit… So how come you're still so goddamn cute?"

It was a rhetorical question of course, but it was what she needed to hear… Not him tiptoeing all around her, or 'aw, what's wronging,' her… She counted on him not to buy into all that mushy crap. Just a straightforward observation, and an assurance, in his own way, that they were still going strong as ever.

It made her smile, and lean down to kiss him lightly on the forehead… Dropping her breasts dangerously near the poltergeist's face, which left him, naturally, grinning. "Beej… I love you." She whispered, one of the rare occasions when she felt the need to say it. "You know that, right?"

"Huh, babes…" He slid one hand up her shirt, sort of nonchalantly, and looked at her with serious eyes, even as he proceeded to feel her up, noting softly, "How the hell was I supposed to miss that?" With his free hand, reaching up, and tenderly brushing a strand of ebony hair from her face. "I mean, goddamnit, I told you before… You can't keep a secret from me worth shit." Cool fingers, trailing across tense, sweaty skin. "I could give you some tips… But I gotta tell you, I kinda like hearing you say it anyway. Ain't any broad ever said that to me… Not that meant it worth shit. You? You're something special, Lyds."

His voice had dropped, just a little for this last, and then, with a grunt and a grin, he gave her a little shove away, reclaiming both his hands, ands stretched out slowly underneath her, enjoying the feel of her just above his sheet clad body. "Come on. Get those fucking clothes off, and come to bed. Don't know why you sleep in them all the time, anyway…"

"I don't…" She protested, not removing her clothes, but sliding off him slowly, until she could lie down beside him. "But what am I supposed to do? Every time you catch a flash of skin, you're all over me!" Even if she was smiling as she said it, and wiggled back against him, just a little, to feel their bodies rub close together, making him groan.

He quickly countered it with a chuckle though, and a light tickle across her side, between tank top and pajama bottoms. "Yeah Lyds… I'm the one with no self control. You know goddamn well you can't keep your hands off of me." It was a good natured banter, not quite infused with the sexual tension that such a conversation might once have held, but still thick with tenderness and unhidden desire. "But hell, you know you're sexy…"

"If I ever doubted it," She acknowledged, slowly feeling better, now that she was with him again, "You sure took care of that." She turned a little in his arms, dropping her head against his collar, and breathing in, deeply. It was a funny thing to say, but he wasn't old enough to smell as old as he did. He made her think of damp, weathered stone… Ageless. Immortal. But he felt very human in her arms…

Beetlejuice grunted, accepting the fact that she liked how he smelled, even if it wasn't something he'd come across in other breathers before. At least it meant he didn't have to worry about that bathing shit. At the moment, though he had something else on his mind… "So… What won't you let happen to us, babes?" Sort of off-handedly, like it didn't really matter to him worth shit whether she answered or not. "You have some sorta bad dream?"

"Yeah…" Lydia murmured, closing her eyes, and suddenly feeling ready for sleep again… And definitely not ready to talk about her parents. "A bad dream. I dreamed I was a kid again, and you forgot all about us being married, and…" It made her surprisingly uneasy remembering it, considering what had just happened below in the kitchen. "Just a dumb dream, don't worry about it."

A pause, as Beetlejuice considered her words. "Tell you what, Lyds," He offered at last, completely serious. "You manage to get yourself turned into a kid again, I'll just wait for you to grow up again, same as before."

Lydia couldn't help it, she gave him a little punch with the side of her fist, making a small, hollow sound against the poltergeist's chest, as she reminded him tartly, "You didn't exactly wait the first time, the way I remember it, Beej." Just a little sour at the memory of all those other girls he'd always been chasing… Never mind that, even if it wasn't romantically, he always did come back to her in the end.

Under her hand, Beetlejuice snickered deeply, obviously waiting for that one. "Yeah, I wondered if you'd figure that… Okay, but you gotta admit, Lyds, that'd be a hell of a dry spell. You wouldn't want to do that to your favorite dead guy, would you?"

She offered a second punch, harder than the first, though still not nearly enough to hurt him. He cackled harder, catching her hand. "Nah, but this time I would wait for you, kid. I'll fucking geis myself, if it'll let you get some goddamn sleep." And the slight tone of amusement to the words, didn't hide the fact that, incredibly, he was serious behind it. "Come on… I only got one girl on my mind, Lyds… And you know damn well there ain't another one out there like you."

A pause, then, a little vehemently, as if he were just remembering this himself, "Fuck, you forgetting? I had to blast his royal lowness across half the face of a city to get you for myself…!"

She laughed softly. "Because that's really why I picked you." Lydia murmured under her breath, reaching up, and twining her fingers sleepily through his hair. "You are so thick-headed sometimes…" Offered nothing but affectionately…

"You love it." Beetlejuice assured her, self satisfied as always, if a bit exhausted from not enough rest. "Now either shut the fuck up and get some sleep, or jump my goddamn bones and get it over with… I'm fucking tired, Lyds."

"Humph." She snuggled back in his arms, and he dropped a light kiss to the top of her head. "You act like you need sleep, or something." Never mind that he did… She'd worry about her parents tomorrow. It was probably nothing worth losing a good night's sleep over, after all…

No mention was made the next day of her father's visit, the night before. From the oblivious way the Maitlands acted, they might not have even known about it. It would be just like her mother too, to sneak him in, to avoid confrontation… Just like her mother, of course, because it was exactly what she would have done too.

But Lydia couldn't help but notice that her father was conspicuously absent… At least to her. Her mother's mood was more or less the same, she still looked more than anything like she needed a cup of coffee, and pretended not to notice as Adam thoroughly enjoyed his own cup. She was still wearing her pajamas at the breakfast table, and things were more or less a mirror of the morning before…

Except that this time, Beetlejuice had decided to join them for breakfast. And he wasn't feeling as amiable towards the in-laws as he had the day before… Regardless of what Lyds had claimed the night before, he didn't believe it was a dream that had made her all upset like that. Just about the only thing in this goddamn world that could make his babes cry, were the people currently sharing the table with him. So fuck being nice. He just waited for the conversation to turn his way.

"…Think you probably got off lucky, Lydia." Adam was saying, having been deep in some conversation that the poltergeist was only paying half an ear to, as he bided his time to strike up his own discussion with the girl. "You could have been thrown out of the school completely… I'm a little surprised you weren't. That school has a reputation of being, difficult, for difficult students."

"That's me," Lydia agreed without blinking, sort of pushing her eggs around on her plate, "A difficult student. You should all really expect it by now… Actually," A slight flicker of her gaze upwards, and a hint of a smile, "Miss Shannon seems to think I'm showing improvement."

This left Adam without a ready reply, but Beetlejuice didn't jump in just yet. He was still weighing the air in the room… Figuring out just the way to break his silence, without it biting the girl in the ass, as she so eloquently put it.

When the silence stretched for upwards a minute, Adam finally started to say something… But what it was would never be determined, because the poltergeist took that as his cue. "My turn, Poindexter." He grunted, waving the man's unspoken words away with a fork, and then proceeding to pretend he wasn't even there. "So it's like this, babes… I'm fucking bored."

Lydia paused, her own fork halfway to her lips, and raised one eyebrow. He could read her expression easily… This ought to be good. She didn't for a minute seem to think he was implying he was bored with her. "All right," She said simply, as if this were just an expected part of everyday life, "So what are you going to do about it?"

Her husband grunted, as everyone but his girl stared with a sort of sense of foreboding, watching the two. Sort of a, 'Hell, what now,' sort of attitude. "Well…" He mused, unfolding his napkin methodically, a nasty little grin forming slowly on his face, "I was thinking maybe I oughta take the chump's advice… You know, get a job."

"Well, that's the first thing you've said that makes sense!" Adam noted, looking a little surprised… And for good reason. Lydia of course, wasn't so easily played by the poltergeist, she knew his games too well. So as Adam well on, about how he'd have to, 'start small, and work his way up…' Lydia just smirked, reached for her orange juice, and let her foster father get in a few more words, before she decided to interrupt… As politely as possible.

"So, back to the bioexorcist business, huh?" She teased, well aware how much the man enjoyed giving a good scare… And well aware that this was nothing like Adam had assumed the poltergeist meant. "You should start somewhere close by… Winter River's getting way too damn crowded for my taste."

By this point of course, her words seemed to finally register with the other dead man. "Wait… Bioexorcist business? Lydia, you can't…" He broke off in mid sentence, turning to Beetlejuice himself. "She can't be serious!"

"Why the fuck not?" Beetlejuice countered, not put off his step for a second. "Hell, someone's gotta do it! Some of the dead these days," He made a careless gesture in his, then Barbara's direction as he was speaking, clearly indicating the two of them, "They got no clue how this haunting deal works! Get themselves decked up in…" His lips peeled back, a little, in a grin, "Designer sheets. Throw goddamn cocktail parties. You know, real amateur shit."

"And I suppose turning into a snake, and trying to kill people is the answer?" Adam countered right back, suddenly seeming to feel the need to rise from the table. "Or trying to marry fourteen year old girls! Or sending people through the roof!"

Beetlejuice held his hands out, in a feign of helplessness. "Hey buddy, whatever gets the job done. And don't start on me about some fourteen year old girl crap… Liv was fifteen if she was a goddamn day!" Lydia mother, at hearing the familiar nickname, tumbling from his lips, flinching just a little, before she reached for her juice without a word. "The way you fucking carry on, you'd think she was twelve!"

"Then you don't want me to get started on what you seem to think is appropriate for twelve year old girls to do…" Adam retorted right back- Before breaking in mid-sentence, closing his eyes, and abruptly seeming to lose his steam. "You know what? I'm not going to talk about this. I'm finished talking about this. You are not going to drive a wedge between me and my daughter. That's final."

The poltergeist chuckled under his breath at the guy's attempt to act all in control… But he saw no reason to argue with it. Hell, if he'd had to put up with the lot of them this long, a little longer made no difference to him… And it made a world of difference to his girl.

"Sure." He agreed silkily, just the one word, as condescendingly as possible, before he turned his attention back to Lydia. "So babes, I figure with you pulling extra hours with the school thing, you won't miss me so much, doing a little side work. 'Cause, you know, otherwise you'd probably be going out of your fucking mind…"

"Nah," She teased him right back, "I'd just want to help." She wiped her mouth on the pretty peach napkin, before crinkling into a ball, and making a impossible shot, across the room, to a trashcan she couldn't even currently see, much less properly aim for. "…Get a few new lessons in, you know?"

Beetlejuice snorted. "Yeah, someday, kiddo. You ain't up to that level of shit yet." When Lydia made an indelicate sound, he just grinned. "No offense, babes."

"None taken." She assured him easily, pushing her plate back. "I gotta go, so I don't have time to be annoyed with you… You all have fun pissing each other off without me." She dropped a kiss to her husband's lips, acknowledging, as he didn't get up to walk with her, that he probably wasn't nearly done with her parents yet… And pretty sure she knew why.

"You know," She noted quietly, her hand lingering briefly on her husband's shoulder, "You don't have to fight all my battles for me, Beej."

"Yeah…" He agreed, smirking, now that the 'joke' was out, "But it's hella fun, Lyds." He patted her ass lightly as she walked away, and watched her go, ignoring the others there, currently doing their best to ignore his little show of intimacy.

When the girl was gone, he turned back to Olivia, all pretenses dropped. "So what the fuck was Eddie-boy doing back here, Liv?" He demanded, a little shortly as he leaned back in his chair, and forewent all further interest in his breakfast. "'Cause it sure as hell had the kid riled up last night."

For about the length of a breath, everyone there was silent… He couldn't have said which one of them looked more surprised.

Then, in the manner Adam was quickly cultivating, he chose to completely ignore Beetlejuice, and turned straight to Olivia, forehead furrowed in a look of concern. "Edmond was here?" He pressed, clearly not pleased by this little revelation. "Olivia… I thought the two of you…"

"Yes, I know." A little exasperated, but still too tired to summon any more than this. "I know what everyone thought. I know what I thought. But Adam…" She turned a helpless gaze back towards him, a look the woman knew very well by this point, and admitted softly, "Adam… He's still my husband. I miss him."

This seemed to rock the male Maitland back a little, and he slowly resumed leaning back in his seat, his worried look now deeper than before… But clearly concerned about the girl he'd helped raise as well. "Olivia," He said at last, slowly, "If you two think you can work this out, then-"

"We don't." Very, very quietly, her eyes cast down to her breakfast. "He made that pretty clear last night. And I don't know how it would work, anyway. But," Now her gaze rose, lighting first on Adam, then Barb… For now utterly ignoring the third ghost in the room, "I still, have feelings for him. I've tried to ignore it, but-" A brief, uncertain pause. "I think he still cares about me, too."

Greeted by not a word from either of her favorite ghosts… Adam watching her, worriedly, Barbara rather intent on staring at the hand gripping her orange juice. And Beetlejuice of course, just riding it out until the chumps made some kind of decision… "Do you still love him?" Barbara asked at last, the answer to this clearly going to be the end all and be all that decided how she was going to respond.

Olivia smiled, a little tightly. Regarding her own drink with something akin to fascination. "Yes." She whispered, quietly. "As hard as I tried to convince myself that I didn't… I think I still do."

"You think." Adam clarified, clearly not liking where this conversation was going. "Olivia, I hardly think…"

"Adam." One word, from his wife, so weighted that it silenced him, before she reminded him, almost heartbrokenly, "She's his wife." After this, Adam offered no more, but Barb, finally joining the conversation, turned to Olivia, and regarded her, for a long moment, as evenly as she could manage. "Have you thought about what it means," She prompted at last, her voice low, "If you do decide to work things out?"

"Yes." Olivia answered, without pause. Smiling, tightly. "And I can't figure the goddamn mess out. I don't want to choose."

Slowly, Adam let a long breath out. "No wonder you suddenly sympathize with our daughter." He muttered under his breath, clearly not thinking to find it strange to call Lydia 'our daughter,' when her mother was his first foster daughter, and with the fact that she had four such 'parents…' "Goddamn it…" He looked up at her, frowning openly now. "And what does Edmond say?"

"He wants us to be friends." Olivia answered with forced lightness, waving through the air what she thought of that with her fork. "But I know the man better than anyone ever has… And we started out as friends in the first place. Remember? I think…" A pause, a sort of break into silence, as clearly, she didn't know what to think. "I don't know what to think." She finished simply. "Maybe we'll just be friends." A glance at her own foster parents, before noting, halfheartedly, "That's what's best for Lydia, right?"

"I'm more concerned about what's best for you." Barbara answered honestly, even if her voice was a bit low. Adam cast her a pained glance, but didn't counter the words. How could he? This was their daughter…

"Huh." Beetlejuice decided that, since no one else was saying anything, after a moment or more of silence, that it was his turn to fucking talk. "Well, whatever the hell you do… Leave me the fuck out of it. I got nothing against old Eddie-boy… Aside from that shit where he tried to sic a priest on my goddamn ass, and hell, I'm not one to hold grudges…" A long, pointed look in Olivia's direction, as he offered this, with nothing like a grin. "Not unless I'm really fucking screwed over, that is, right Liv?" Now his voice changed, becoming more serious. "But figure out what the fuck you're going to do, and do it, all right? Enough fucking bullshit!"

"Easy for you to say…" Olivia muttered, just wearied enough to risk being flippant in the face of her long time fear.

"Yeah," The poltergeist agreed, without hesitation, "Goddamn right, it's easy for me to say. You want something, you go for it. Don't let nothing fucking stop you. You love someone? Knock down any-fucking-thing that it takes to be with them. You gotta fucking compromise, compromise. Hell, you think it's an afterlife of beetles and dead roses with you assholes?" He flicked this away dismissively… Or possibly tried to rid himself of something on the tip of his finger. "What-the-fuck-ever."

"We're difficult to deal with?" Adam pressed, with his first trace of humor, strained though it may be. "Hell… You… You…!" And he just shook his head, like that was all he could summon, he was so overwhelmed with all the things he wanted to say.

"Yeah," Beetlejuice sneered, looking amused himself, "Me… Me… Me, you fucking bag of ecto-shit! Now what about her, her, her?" He gestured in the living woman's direction, before grunting, and getting to his feet, slowly… Adding under his breath, "Fucking idiots."

Barbara sighed, watching this one more bizarre part of their life, unavoidable as it seemed, dismiss them with a sneer… And closed her eyes, dropping her head forward onto her hands with a little twist of own lips, in apprehension. "I just want things to be worked out enough," She confessed softly, looking over her fingers at her husband, "That we know what the hell's normal anymore."

"Normal?" Beetlejuice seemed to choke on the word, and stumbled backwards a bit, seeming to try to work something loose from his throat, until his back hit the wall… And then he started laughing, hard. Guffaws, chortles, wheezes, the whole nine yards. He laughed so hard that his knees buckled, and he slid down the wall to end on his ass, bending over his legs, and still gasping away, like this was the best joke ever. "F-fucking… Fucking normal?"

Olivia was, oddly, the first to smile, even offering a small laugh, as she reflected that, like her daughter, normal had never been anything of great importance to her, either… And when she laughed, finally dropping her weary expression, just giggling away like yes, it was so funny… Finally the Maitlands joined in too, albeit it on a slightly more subdued scale.

"I suppose, we're past any point, where any of this can be called normal." Barbara agreed, a little against her will, but in a somewhat good humor. "My god, Adam…" She reached for her husband… And then they were all laughing, hard.

Normal… Beetlejuice sneered when the rest of them were finally busy laughing… Who the fuck cared about normal? This was life. Not to be fucking confused with death. So who cared?

Screw normal…

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