Chapter Fourteen

Beetlejuice had been waiting outside of the slimeballing grounds for twenty minutes, and still Lydia hadn't appeared. Beyond the ticket booth behind him ghouls of all kinds were getting strapped up into their kit and arming themselves with slimeshooters.
Toeing the ground miserably, he let out a sigh. It was hard telling himself to be patient, he wasn't exactly a patient person. For the first time in his life he didn't even want to pull any pranks to pass the time.
Somewhere inside his jacket, a stowaway beetle squirmed. Almost on an afterthought he plucked it out and popped it into his mouth. His eyes never left the path that led to the city centre.

The ghoul manning the ticket booth finally decided to approach him. He was of middling height, dressed in a sheriff's uniform, and as he stepped over Beetlejuice turned.
"First tournament is heading out." The ticket officer said. He had a gruff disposition, but he sounded reasonable enough. He motioned over his shoulder towards the slimeballing party. "Y'joining?"

Hands in his pockets, Beetlejuice tried to look cool. "Uh… I'll miss this one out." He said bravely.
The ticket officer nodded. "Mrm, probably best. In a few hours we have another tournie. Might be for more your kind of age group."

Beetlejuice blinked back at the ghoul. Then, taking a long hard look at the crowd beyond the booth, he mentally noted that most were around Lydia's age, give or take a few years.
Waitaminute, is he calling me old?
He turned beetroot-red in the face. "Hey, just what are you implying?" He snapped, folding his arms.

The marshal's expression was neutral, indifferent. "Nothing at all, sir," He said in a tone that was neither polite, nor impolite, before leaving to referee the tournament.
Staring after his retreating back, a trio of snakes appeared out of the crown of Beetlejuice's head and stuck out their tongues before sniffing angrily and disappearing back where they'd come from.

Soon, the not-so-far-off sound of guns popping, slime-bombs exploding and raucous laughter sailed over the field outside of the slimeballing grounds teasingly.
Beetlejuice turned and began to pace the field, occasionally glancing off into the Neitherwoods, then off to the long winding path that led to the city. Eventually he simply stopped and stared at the horizon. He felt so low he wanted the ground to swallow him up.

"Where are ya, Lyds?"

"… And once again, thank you, Lydia, for appearing on our show,"

Barf was winding the program down to a close and Lydia, relieved beyond all comprehension, managed a genuine smile. "Thank you for having me. It's been a pleasure to be here,"
The audience erupted in applause as she walked off of the set, before Barf and Jack finished the show with their usual dramatic exit and the studio set plunged into darkness.

Without hesitation, Lydia rushed to the dressing room she'd been loaned, running as fast as her feet could carry her. Having reached it, her hand moving to grasp the door handle, she practically jumped out of her skin when a heavy hand fell on her shoulder.
"Yeeee!" She yelped, before whirling around.
Monitor towered over her, eyes tired, looking a little firmer than usual. How he'd managed to move so fast, Lydia didn't know.

"What's the hurry?" He tested, smiling an unpleasant smile. "Have some place to be?"
Lydia's cheeks felt hot. Her throat was dry. "Ah… maybe. Do you have the time, Monitor?"
The NTV employee held out an arm, a large watch adorning the wrist. A regular human wouldn't have been able to understand the time from it, it had extra hands and the numbers were all over the place with some anomalies thrown in for good measure. Lydia, however, understood it fine. She was late.

"Fuck!" She cursed, throwing the door to the dressing room open. Monitor staggered back. Coming from a girl who was usually so soft-spoken and polite, the expletive was unexpected to say the least.
Lydia threw herself into the room and gathered together the few belongings she'd brought with her, panting for breath. "I need to go, Monitor! Right now!"

Guilt coiled within her, almost flipping her stomach upside down. He's going to think you stood him up, Lydia Deetz. A cold, unsympathetic voice inside of her head told her. Poor Beetlejuice, how could you leave him high and dry?

I didn't mean to! I didn't want to!

Monitor, having not received the response he'd wanted from Dawn, had no choice but to escort Lydia towards the exit. Shepherding her down a labyrinth of corridors, she was soon sprinting on ahead of him. He was about to give chase when his yell-phone began to ring in his pocket. Withdrawing it discretely, he accepted the call before he'd even thought to look at the caller ID. "Ahuhuh, hello?"

For a moment there was simply white-noise. Then: "… Is this 'Monitor'?"
The caller was female, but he didn't recognise the voice. He stopped, eyes turning in the direction of the phone pressed to the side of one of his screens. "Ahuh, speaking. How did you get this number? Uhuhh, it's a private–"
"From Dawn," The girl explained shortly. She had a voice that grated on Monitor's nerves. "She won't be helping you."

Monitor frowned. Up ahead, Lydia was glancing around frantically for their driver. "Ohoh… I expected as much. I hoped I could tempt her, ahuh, if I raised the offer?"
"You can't, but I'm interested."
Monitor's frown quickly turned to a sneer. "Ohoh, what an unexpected surprise. Good, good. I pay handsomely, Miss….?"
"Cartwheel. Ariel Cartwheel."

"Well, Miss Cartwheel, I need you to distract Beetlejuice. Get him away from there, make it look like–"
"Like he's stood her up?" Ariel asked.

Monitor relished this moment, as he watched Lydia desperately latch onto their chauffeur.
"Ahuh, nooo, no, it'll be too late for that." He spoke into the mobile phone. "I just want them apart, understood?" With that, he hung up.

Lydia was following the chauffeur to one of two exits. Trying to buy Ariel some time, Monitor dashed over. "Ah, Lydia, not that door!" He cried.
Lydia spun on her heel, breathless. "Huh?"

"It'll take much too long, you'll be pounced on, ahuh. This way. This stage door–" Monitor began to lead her and their driver to the second exit around the corner. Throwing the door open, he pushed Lydia out into the blinding sunlight before she could make sense of what was happening.

"Wuh? Monitor?"
He slammed the door behind her.
The light was so intense, so white, that it burned Lydia's vision. She tried covering her eyes with her arm but it did no good, she couldn't block it out. She soon realised it was because the light wasn't coming from just one direction, but in a semi-circle all around her. After-images burned into her retinas, erratic flash after flash went off in her face whilst the loud, unmistakable sound of camera shutters assaulted her ears. Lydia tried to see through the constant explosion of light but found it impossible. Instead she tried to fight her way through it, realisation dawning on her as she began to make out the sound of her name being chanted.
Monitor had thrown her into a sea of paparazzi.

It wasn't far from Dawn's apartment to the Neitherwoods, which was lucky for Ariel – being a ghost that didn't possess the same kind of magic that Beetlejuice did.
She reached the slimeballing grounds within good time, but her mark wasn't at the ticket booth when she got there.
Shit! She mentally cursed, wringing her hands together as she began storming across the field, only to catch sight of Beetlejuice heading back towards the city.

Ariel thought about doing a wide circuit of the area so as to come in the opposite direction and run into him face-to-face, but she was much too impatient for that. Instead she took after him. When she was within two feet of him, she slowed her pace and coughed emphatically, hoping to grab his attention.

Beetlejuice seemed to flinch before he excitedly whipped around. His face fell when he saw that it was Ariel and not Lydia.
The disappointment on his face made Ariel angry, but she masked it well. She waved with her fingertips daintily. "Well, he-ello and colour me surprised. I thought it might be you,"
Beetlejuice looked very tired, but also very confused. "Wuh?"

"Fancy running into you here, Beetlejuice."
He blinked slowly, taking a moment to process her face. "… Ariel?"

Of course it's me. How could anyone forget this face? The ex-cheerleader thought with some degree of vanity. She tossed her hair, smiling in what she hoped was an amiable manner. "So you do remember. How have the years treated you?"

Beetlejuice blinked again. He looked over his left shoulder, then his right, and then finally looked all around. After that, he gestured to himself incredulously. "You… You're talking to me?"
Ariel mentally scoffed. And so you should be surprised, Beetlepunk. Out loud she said: "Of course, silly,"

Beetlejuice's eyebrows raised in scepticism. "But… you hated me in high school." He objected.
Ariel gritted her teeth before feigning a grin. She hadn't thought it'd be this hard just to start up a conversation. "Oh, come on, we're both adults now."
Doesn't mean anything's changed… Beetlejuice thought to himself, though not too distrustfully. He found himself grinning smugly despite himself.

Ariel put a hand on her hips and rested the other on her collarbone, posing. "So what are you doing here, a-lone?"

Alone. Ouch. Beetlejuice opened his mouth, then shut it before he could begin. Not wanting to look like the class clown who'd never been able to get a girl, he thought on his feet, and spoke fast before he could change his mind. "I'm waiting for my girlfriend."
Ariel raised an eyebrow.
Beetlejuice, himself, felt beads of sweat form on his brow. Uncomfortable, he folded his arms. "Uh, yeah, that's right, that's what she is, ahuh."

Ariel couldn't help but dig. She let out a tinkle of laughter. "Not a robotic one this time, I hope? Aahahahaha."
Now that was one memory Beetlejuice hadn't wanted unearthed. He glowered.
"Aha, ohh, I'm tea-sing." Ariel giggled. She tried to paper over the insult, batting her eyelashes and closing the gap between them. "But your girl is sooo lucky, getting to be with the- ha – Ghost with the Most."

Beetlejuice practically stumbled with surprise. "Really?" He exclaimed eagerly. Then, remembering who Ariel was and what she had once done to him, he decided to change the subject. "I mean… uh… uh. So. You see Squid lately?
"He let himself go." Ariel said, before leaning in, narrowing her eyes flirtatiously. "But you? Wow. If I'd have known you were going to turn out like this I wouldn't have been so hard on you at Ghoulliard. I hear they're having a reunion next month. Why don't we go together?"

"Actually, I'm taking Lyds." Beetlejuice replied without hesitation, before he'd even realised he'd said it.
Ariel, who'd just been reminding herself to pick up a bar of soap to wash her mouth out with, latched onto his reply. She grinned mischievously. "That your girlfriend?"
Beetlejuice didn't know what story or excuse to use. He juggled with possible responses for a moment, tongue-tied. "Yes. No. I mean, yes. Uh. Well."

Ariel's smirk intensified. "The same one that's stood you up?"
"She hasn't stood me up!" Beetlejuice cried.
The ex-cheerleader looked around pointedly, before looking back at him. "She hasn't arrived ye-et."

Beetlejuice winced. "S-She will." He said, but with less conviction than he felt. He squirmed uncomfortably. "Lyds wouldn't leave me hanging." In a flash he was hanging on the end of a noose that seemed to be suspended in mid air.
Ariel tried very hard not to look disgusted. He really hasn't changed. Yucghh.

"Well, if she stands you up at the prom, I might have to step in. What do you think? Prom King and the one who was meant to be Prom Queen?" She stepped closer, her hand reaching for his tie. Before she could get there, Beetlejuice took a calculated step back.
"Look, Ariel, babes, I 'preciate the sentiment but I could really do without a walk down memory lane." A street sign appeared beside them, reading 'MEMORY LANE, THIS WAY' with an arrow demonstrating the direction. It disappeared just as quickly as his 'juiced hangman's noose had done.

Ariel's eyes widened. He's telling me to go away? HE'S telling ME?
"Beetlejuice, you're such a-!" She began, ready to blow her top. Then, calming herself and taking a deep breath, she let out a giggle. "Ahohh. You're such a kidder."
He shrugged. "Usually." Then, after deliberating something, Beetlejuice finally cocked a thumb over his shoulder. "Look, it's been a slice, but... I gotta go. Smell ya later,"

Ariel made to object, but it was useless. He disappeared with a bang before her eyes.
The redhead stared at the space he had occupied only moments before, then finally let out an angry scream she'd been holding in for the past five minutes, tugging at her hair.
He was more unbearable than he had been in high school! More unbearable than she'd remembered!
Wherever he'd zapped himself to, she hoped it was far enough away from that Lydia Ditz singer, or… whatever her name was. After all, Ariel's time was money, and that had been time she would've rather spent watching paint dry.
If Monitor didn't cough up any money for that small service, she was going to have something to say about it.

It had taken Lydia the best part of twenty minutes to wrestle her way out of the thick crowd of paparazzi and raving fans outside of the studio. Her driver had eventually managed to drop her off at the edge of the Neitherwoods, and she was now bounding across the open field that bordered it towards the slimeballing grounds. Her heart hammered miserably in her chest, her breath coming thick and fast as she glanced around in desperation. "Crap, crap! Beej? Beetlejuice!" She called, finally making it to the ticket booth. One thing was certain though, he was nowhere to be seen.

The ticket officer was stood behind the booth's counter. Leaning towards the circular hole in the glass so his voice could travel further, he raised a hand. "Can I help ya, miss?"
Lydia took a moment to catch her breath, before placing her hands on the small expanse of counter that sat on her side of the booth. "Yes! Have you seen–?"
"Guy in stripes about six foot tall? Blond, green teeth, smells like a garbage can?" He said for her.
Lydia wasn't used to other people describing Beetlejuice. When the ticket officer put it that way, he didn't really have much going for him at all. "Uhh… y-yeah… that's him,"

The ticket officer appraised her for a moment, as though comparing Beetlejuice and Lydia side by side. Whatever he'd been expecting Beetlejuice's date to be like, this wasn't it. "He was gone by the time I got back from marshalling the last tournament. Stood up."
Lydia winced, her eyes stinging. "Do you have any idea where he went?" She asked, hanging her had.

"Can't help y'there." The marshal shrugged.
Lydia let out a breath through her nose, her hand slipping from the counter. Before she could walk away, the ticket officer snapped his fingers. "Say, haven't I seen you on television?"
Lydia twitched. Today's television appearance was the reason she'd been late in the first place.
"Uh, yeah. I'm Lydia Deetz," She said, trying her best to smile up at the man.
He didn't seem all that star struck.

"The singer?"
"That's me,"
"Hm. Well, when your schedule quietens down a bit be sure to come back here. Have a tournament on the house,"
Warmed by this, Lydia smiled gratefully. "Thank you,"

She stepped back, readjusting the strap of her satchel, before beginning to head back across the field.
She'd been set on returning to the Roadhouse when she remembered that she'd asked Beetlejuice to take her to the Freaky Eyescream Shop.
It was a long shot, but she wondered if she might just run into him there.

The Freaky Eyescream Shop was a dome-shaped glass building sat on a ridge just outside of the city centre. At this time of day it was busy, but not uncomfortably so; every booth was filled with small groups and couples, all talking at a tolerable level. The queue at the ice-cream counter was moving fast when Lydia walked in, but not fast enough that she didn't have to squeeze between packed-in bodies to get through the front door.

Looking around, she was relieved to find her instinct had been right. Beetlejuice was sat alone in one of the booths on the far side of the room, one of his feet propped up on the table. He was resting his head in his palm, and looking gloomily out of the window.

At the sound of approaching footsteps, he turned and instantly his face shone with relief.
"Lyds?" He grinned up at her.
Lydia had worried herself close to tears. She placed her hands down on the table, still breathless from running all the way from the grounds. "B. J., I am so sorry. I lost track of time, Monitor had me working nonstop, I got caught in a crowd and I just–"
There was no resentment in his face, nothing to suggest he felt he'd been 'stood up' at all. If anything, he looked glad. "No sweat, babes," He said smoothly.

Lydia caught her breath as she slid onto the leather bench opposite him. "I didn't mean to do that to you. You, of all people."
Beetlejuice just smiled. "Yer here now, babes. Wanna share an ice-cream?"
Lydia exhaled deeply in relief and relaxed back into her seat, smiling. "Yes. Please,"

The ghost got up from their booth and headed over to the counter, whistling and jangling change in his pocket as he went. Lydia watched him go, still feeling guilty, if not cross with Monitor for pushing her out of the wrong exit. When Beetlejuice returned with one of the house special 'sundaes for two' – a relatively plain one since some of the Neitherworld toppings were too much even for Lydia's tastes – they both dug in happily.

The first bite of that cooling ice-cream was so relaxing that Lydia practically collapsed back into her seat. "Ah… worth it," She hummed, reclining and shutting her eyes.

Around three spoonful's worth of icecream, Beetlejuice finally managed: "So what did Monitor want ya for?"

Lydia stopped. The ice-cream in her mouth had the same effect as an ice cube slipping down her back, and it sent a stinging, angry pain all the way up to her head. She swallowed thickly, opening her eyes. "Didn't he… tell you?" She asked hesitantly.
Beetlejuice gulped down his mouthful of icecream. "Tch! Are you kidding? I haven't heard a peep out of him." He sniffed.

Lydia frowned darkly. Black rage took over the guilt.
Monitor had lied to her. He hadn't told Beetlejuice where she'd be at all, and he'd probably sabotaged her exit from the studio on purpose.
"I see." She said through pursed lips. Monitor had just made it to the top of her blacklist.
Not wanting to take it out on Beetlejuice, she composed herself as best she could. "I was having a chat with Barf Biffman. Live. You know? Frightday Nights?"

At this, Beetlejuice's jaw dropped onto the table and shook it enough to topple the umbrella off of the top of their sundae.
"And I missed it?" He cried.
"I thought you knew," Lydia said, half-bitterly and half-sadly.

Monitor is so dead, she thought as she spooned some more ice-cream into her mouth.

Beetlejuice groaned and dropped his spoon onto the table top. "Mm. Wish I had," He mumbled. His striped tongue slipped out between his lips and lapped at some of the melted cream on the rim of the sundae glass.

After a brief period of silence, Beetlejuice scratched behind his ear, trying to decide whether or not to break the tense atmosphere. Eventually he shrugged and lowered his propped up foot to the floor, tapping his heels together unconsciously. "I, uh, ran into Ariel earlier. The cheerleader I went to high school with?" He prompted, not sure if Lydia remembered the story he'd told her about his high school prom all those years ago.

"The one who stuffed the ballot box to humiliate you?" Lydia replied. She tried to forget that Ariel was the girl he'd wanted to take to the prom.

Beetlejuice hesitated. His eyes widened, then narrowed suspiciously. "How'd y'know about that?" He asked. After all, that hadn't been in the version he'd told her.
Lydia smirked. "Ha. Don't spin a tale when one of your tenants was your closest friend in high school, Beej. The truth comes out eventually,"
Dammit Jacques, Beetlejuice pouted, before resting his head in his palm, bottom lip stuck out childishly. "Yeah. Her," He admitted.
"And?"

He let out a 'pfft' sound before straightening and gripping onto the lapels of his suit. "She was all over me," He said smugly.
Lydia flinched. "O-Oh?"
"Yep. Still got it," He reclined, folding his arms behind his head for support and resting his booted feet on the circular support beneath the table.
When he looked over at her, however, Lydia's dark eyes glittered so scornfully that he yelped.

"Oh, come on, Lyds! I wouldn't touch her with a ten foot pole!" He objected, accidentally 'juicing a pole of said length into his hand. Holding it horizontally, it was only seconds before an attendant walked into it and spilled a tray full of icecreams and sodas as he tripped.
Beetlejuice's mouth formed a small 'o' shape. "Oops," The pole vanished with a 'poof'.

Lydia couldn't help but frown.
"I hope not," She said as jokingly as she could, before glancing out of the window tiredly.

Here we go again... Some other woman gets preference, just like at the SOMFN event. She thought with some degree of sadness, scrubbing at a speck of dirt on the window pane. Some 'date'…

Beetlejuice plucked up the sundae, made to down its remaining contents, then stopped.
He didn't know what to read into her reaction, but even being as idiotic as he was, he still he felt as though he'd upset her in some way. That- that made him ashamed.
"Lyds?"

She was slow to respond. "Mm?"

Silence.
Putting the sundae glass back down, Beetlejuice scrubbed at his mouth with the back of his hand. Finally, he said: "Do ya... really have to go back to college?"

Lydia blinked. She turned to look at him. "What?"

Beetlejuice shrugged, hunched over in his seat, his hands interlocking while his red-tipped thumbs twiddled together anxiously. "Let's face it, ya don't need to be taught to be any better at photography." He tried to laugh off. Then he cleared his throat and averted his eyes. "And… when yer at college- I don't get to see ya…"

Lydia's heart swelled.
"I can't not go back, B. J.. Mom and Dad have paid for my tuition, they'd kill me if I didn't–"
"… I miss ya, Lyds,"

Lydia's pupils dilated. Her heart didn't just swell, it flipped.
She reached over the table and placed her hand on his. "I'm right here, silly," She said affectionately.

Beetlejuice's hands disentangled. One of them came up to his forehead, elbow resting on the table, while the other turned palm-up. Lydia began tracing her fingertips lightly over its surface. It dawned on her that he had quite nice hands, for a dead guy. They weren't calloused or rough, and his fingers were long and slender; what Delia might call 'piano fingers'.

Beetlejuice shook his head. "No, I mean, I miss ya when you're gone. A hell of a lot. Heck, I miss ya even when we're apart for half a day. I dunno what to do with myself; know whut I mean?"
"I'm sure you find something to do," Lydia half-laughed.
"Well, yeah, usually, but there's always somethin' I'd rather do,"
"Which is?"

He looked up. Beetlejuice was no romantic, he was just bluntly honest. When he spoke, there were no dramatics, no sappiness. It was just a simple, blunt admission. "I'd… rather spend time with you,"

If he hadn't had Lydia's heart before, he'd had it then.
Her fingers stopped tracing the lines on his palm, in fact, her whole body froze. It wasn't an unpleasant feeling.

I can't believe he just said that, Lydia thought, dazed. She wanted to say how sweet that was, wanted to probe deeper, but she didn't. If she did, he'd then realise it himself and take back everything he'd just said. Instead she smiled warmly. "I feel the same way, Beej."

Beetlejuice smiled tiredly. He seemed to age a little in that moment. "I don't wanna stop ya living your life though, babes. So, just… forget I said anythin',"
"Oh no, you don't." Lydia took ahold of his hand and squeezed. "I know that some people think I'm strange for hanging around with you, for hanging around in the Neitherworld, for not 'living my life' but… this is the way I want to live my life, B. J.."

He raised his head. "It is?" He said, almost over-eagerly, before settling down and nodding. "I mean… 'course, it is. I'm one in a million,"
He squeezed her hand back.

Now's your chance! Lydia's conscience yelled suddenly, making her jump. Tell him how you feel!

"Beetlejuice…" She began.

"Yeah, Lyds?"

Now. Do it now, before you lose your nerve!
"I–"

I love you. Just say it. I. Love. You.

"I…" The words stuck in her throat. She began to clam up, and she snapped her hand away from his before he could feel how much she was sweating. Instead she grabbed the sundae glass, and looked down into it. It was empty.

Beetlejuice's expression was one of confusion. "You… want another?" He motioned to the empty glass she was brandishing.

No. No, you don't want an icecream, you want him. Tell him, Lydia! Tell him you're a woman now, a woman with feelings. Tell him you're not just a kid anymore, tell him you want to be more than friends! Ask him how he feels.

She opened her mouth. Closed it. After a moment she lowered the sundae glass. She nodded slowly. With that one action, all her strength left her, and she deflated. "Sure… Another small one couldn't hurt,"

But it did hurt, because each bite of that second ice-cream reminded her how much of a coward she was.

A/N: Beetlejuice's height seems to vary episode to episode (but then, so does his weight, which seems to constantly yo-yo.) I've gone by his mugshot from the episode Don't Beetlejuice and Drive, where he's clearly around six foot (though seven-foot in the last few minutes, but I presume that's because he's hovering).