A/N:Once again thank you everyone who's been reviewing and showing me support! I had a lot of fun writing this chapter, I hope you do reading it.

XX

This was torture. And Betelgeuse knew torture. She'd fallen asleep quickly, worn out from her breakdown. She'd pulled him into her bed- politely requesting him to take off his boots first- and curled up against his side. They'd cuddled a lot in the past few days, and that had been unbearable as well, but it was worse now that he knew what she had under those black scraps of cloth she called clothing. Right now her leg was thrown over his, her warm thigh nestled up nice and snug against his raging hard-on. She was using his shoulder as a pillow and her hot breath came out in even puffs against his neck. His arm was wrapped around her, hand resting on the curve of her hip. They'd been this way all fucking night. She hadn't moved once except to bury herself closer. She was driving him fucking insane and he thought he'd already crossed that line centuries ago.

Her emotional confession had left him speechless. It was so much worse than what he'd been thinking. 'If I ever find the fucker…' What he'd do to him would make Noah's mangled corpse look like Hugh fucking Jackman. "Years" she'd said. Fucking years. He wouldn't be surprised if he found out that her cunt mother had been renting her out to the nameless scum just to get a fix. Lydia seemed to idealize the woman. What could he do but hold her and let her cry on his shoulder, let her drag him to bed and use him like a stuffed fucking animal? This is what he wanted after all. It was a bittersweet victory.

Her cell phone chiming on the nightstand next to them caused her to begin stirring. It lit up with a photo of Charles Deetz in a Hawaiian shirt standing on a beach next to Lydia's step-mother.

"Mm…" His wife buried her face deeper into his suit, hiding from the sound. "No…" He grinned, taking that as an invitation to answer the call.

"Hey, Dad! Lyds can't talk right now; she's… heh, a little tied up at the moment." That woke Lydia right up. Her eyes snapped open and she launched for her phone. With a snap of his fingers, her wrists were tied together at her headboard with a silk scarf.

"Damn it, Betelgeuse! Give me my phone!" She bucked, red-faced, tugging furiously at her bindings.

Charles Deetz sputtered on the other end of the line. "You- What- Why- Let me talk to Lydia! Leave her alone!"

"Ya know what, Dad? I'm thinkin' the wife and I should come for a visit soon. I've got some shit I need to talk ta ya about, man to fuckin' man." Lydia's father paled.

His daughter growled in the background, furious and struggling like a hellcat. "I swear to fucking God if you don't let me out NOW and I mean RIGHT FUCKING NOW YOU ARE NEVER TOUCHING ME AGAIN!"

Charles was going to have a heart attack. His little girl didn't cuss. She definitely didn't let filthy old men touch her. He was dumbstruck. Betelgeuse made a show of rolling his eyes in exasperation before releasing his lovely wife and offering the phone up.

"Daddy?!"

She was breathing hard. This did nothing to calm her father's nerves. "Pumpkin! Are you okay? Did that monster hurt you? You know Adam and Barbara will use their voucher to get Juno-"

She interrupted him, standing from the bed to pace. "No! No, no Daddy I'm fine. He wouldn't hurt me. They don't need to do that. Calm down, Daddy, you're gonna give yourself a stroke." Betelgeuse chuckled, thoroughly amused, as he watched her walk back and forth like a caged animal as she attempted to placate her father. She threw a hairbrush at him.

"No, Daddy, you don't need to drive here, I'm just fine... Oh, that? No, no he was just trying to get under your skin… Daddy, I can't make a promise like that, it's just impractical…"

Her husband was having entirely too good of a time trying to decipher what Daddy-In-Law was saying on the other end of the line.

"Why did you call, anyway?... Oh! Okay, I'll go check." Lydia threw him a nasty look before departing from her bedroom. She returned, still on the phone with her father, carrying an oblong brown package. "Hold on, Daddy." She held the phone away from her ear and regarded Betelgeuse. "Do you have a knife?" He dug in his coat pocket, retrieving a familiar vicious looking switchblade. Lydia appraised it with interest when he tossed it her way. "Neat."

She knelt down on the ground and began cutting into the package. It was a pretty sight, his wife on her knees. Once the box was open, packaging paper littering the floor around her, she sucked in an adoring breath. "Dad… It's beautiful…"

"It better be, pumpkin. I'm out three grand because of that thing. Tell me if there's anything wrong with it at all and I'll raise Hell with the sellers." Lydia ran a loving hand along the gift, hardly believing what was in front of her. "No, it's perfect. I love it."

Betelgeuse watched with avid interest as his wife pulled a fucking katana out of the box and swung it around clumsily with her left hand. "I love you, too, Daddy. Buh-bye." Lydia hung up the phone and tossed it to the bed, gripping the thing with both hands now.

"Hold the fuck up, is that thing legit?!" He floated off the bed to inspect her present with her, a little impressed with Chucky despite himself.

Lydia was ecstatic, her pale face flushed with joy for once. "Oh, yeah. It's not only legit, take a closer look. Recognize it?" Her hands held it up so that he could inspect it further. The handle was strapped with fine white leather. The base of the wrapped steel was engraved with an intricate trinity symbol.

It was definitely familiar looking, but he couldn't quite place it. "I've seen this thing somewhere before…"

Lydia squealed excitedly and swung it once more through the air with a swish. "It's MICHONNE'S!"

Oh, yeah! The samurai chick from that show she had him watching. "That." He paused, an idea coming to him. "Is fucking cool. Hey, babe."

She stopped twirling around, landing in a clichéd pose to meet his gaze, a goofy smile on her face. "Yeah?"

"Wanna kill some real zombies?"

Her eyes widened in wonder, the sword dropping to her side. "You can't… You can do that?"

"Bet your sweet ass I can. Wanna?"

She bit her lip, tempted. "I have class today…" She trailed off, her gaze dropping to the sword as she contemplated her decisions. Go to school- she only had academic classes today- and learn some shit she'd never use again? Or go off with her husband and kill real live zombies with Michonne's katana?

"Whaddya need school for, anyway? You don't need money. I can give you everything you want or need. Besides, those degrees are gonna be worthless in twenty years or so when people start noticing that you're still a fine ass twenty-one-year-old."

He made a convincing argument. An uncharacteristically devious glint darkened Lydia's honey eyes. "Let's do it!"

Betelgeuse stood from the bed, egged on by her enthusiasm. "Alright, let's get you dressed for an apocalypse! Hot as you are in that little number…" He waved his hand at her and she was dressed all in black leather, head to toe. The boots laced up to her knees and lacked a heel of any kind, for practicality, and had a steel toe implant. The pants were tight, but breathable, and would allow for a wide range of movement. The jacket was made out of the same material as the pants and was equally malleable. Beneath the jacket, she wore a simple black cotton tank that exposed the tattoo on her midriff. Her long hair was pulled into a tight braid.

Lydia appraised her reflection appreciatively, posing with the katana. "I look like a fucking badass."

Betelgeuse chortled, appreciating the curve of her ass in the painted-on pants. "Oh, yeah. You're a regular femme fatale. I'm quakin' in my boots."

Lydia turned on him quickly, sword pointed at his throat. She used the tip of the katana to raise his gaze up from her backside. "Careful. I might decide to try this out on you. See if the dead can bleed." Her teasing grin gave away her true emotions.

He raised an unimpressed eyebrow. "It'll take a hell of a lot more than a shiny metal stick to take me out, doll."

The sword was back at her side. "Well? Let's go!" He grinned darkly and took hold of her free hand. As soon as the contact was made, they were gone.

Lydia stumbled at the abrupt change in scenery and he steadied her. "Where are we?"

They stood in an empty, foggy field. There was nothing but grass in every direction, as far as the eye could see. "Eastern Europe. Potter's field. Lots of targets here."

Lydia stepped away from him, sword gripped tightly in anticipation. She didn't have to wait long. The ground trembled menacingly, and then the dead began to rise. He started off with just one. Of course, she was in no danger with him right there, but he didn't want to overwhelm her right off the bat. It clawed its way up from the ground and stumbled blindly towards her, snapping hungry teeth. In one smooth motion, its head was sliced in half and it fell back to the ground, lifeless once more. "SHIT!" Lydia yelled, laughing madly and checking out the sludge like blood now splattered across her pants. Before she knew what was happening, there were two more behind her, less than ten feet away. They were dispatched in a similar manner. Then there were three coming after her, in a triangular formation. Betelgeuse watched, enthralled, as she took them out one at a time. The first was cut down at the legs. It lay on the ground, biting and snarling, while number two was taken down with a clean stab through the skull. Number three had its arms dismembered just as it was coming close enough to grab her and then faced a cleaner decapitation than her first kill did.

She had a bit more trouble with the next four. One almost- not really, though- took a chunk out of her neck, but she whirled around and sliced it clean in half, spilling rotting guts all over her new boots. "FUCK!" She cursed, a wild grin on her face as she crushed in the skull of a wriggler left over from an earlier batch. Lydia's movements were becoming smoother with each kill, and she seemed unfazed by the fact that she was dripping in rancid organic matter. Residual blood made her grip on the sword slippery, though, and when he sent six after her, she was overwhelmed.

A bloodcurdling scream escaped her throat as she was knocked to the ground by one and its teeth came close to ripping into her face. And then, just like that, they were gone.

She was glorious, breathing deeply on the blood-slicked grass, eyes alight with fire. He stood over her, crushing a cigarette on the ground beside her. "Havin' fun?"

Once the shock of almost- not really, though- meeting her end at the hands of a zombie wore off, she smiled brilliantly up at him with her cute little blood-spattered face. Her response was gasped out in between deep breaths. "That… was the most… fun… I have ever had… in my life… gimme a cigarette…" He crouched down and placed an already lit one between her lips. She sucked in and exhaled, closing her eyes and basking in the surrounding carnage. "How many did I kill?"

Betelgeuse bit his tongue and looked around, counting heads. "Let's see… Sweet sixteen, my little angel of death."

"Sixteen. I killed sixteen zombies. Oh my god." She broke into hysterical laughter, rolling onto her side, her braid matted with blood. Her next words were shouted to the heavens as she stretched her arms and legs out in the pool of blood.

"WOO HOO! I KILLED SIXTEEN FUCKING ZOMBIES! THIS IS THE BEST DAY OF MY LIFE!"