Candlelit
by
Owlcroft
Beetlejuice was snortling and smirking. "And the best part is, you'll never guess this present ahead of time." He was inordinately pleased with the items he had planned for Lydia's birthday later in the month. More snortling and smirking followed. First, his favorite person's birthday was on October 26th and then Halloween just a few days later? This was the very best time of the year.
"Beej?" Lydia was intent on her sketchbook, designing a pattern for something that she wanted to keep secret for now. It might be her Halloween costume, of course, but she was adamant about no peeking.
"Hmm?" Beetlejuice, hovering in front of Lyds' bedroom window, was trying solve her Rubik's cube and failing miserably. "Stupid thing." He looked up. "What?"
"When's your birthday?"
"Huh?" To say he was taken aback would be an understatement. After a pause, "I don't remember," he muttered.
"Oh, c'mon. That's not something you forget." Lydia carefully shaded in one side of whatever it was, then changed her mind and pulled out her eraser.
"Well, I don't remember. Been so long since . . . well, since anybody thought about it, even me." He scowled ferociously at the toy in his hands.
Lydia looked pensively at her design, then added several pencil strokes to it. "You give me birthday presents every year. I think it's about time you got a birthday present." She looked up at her friend and smiled. "I want to give you a birthday present, okay? So when is it?"
"Yeah, well . . . that's real . . ." He tried to think of a word other than (yuck!) nice or (blerg!) sweet . . . and finally came up with ". . . thoughtful of you, Lyds. But I don't need any more birthdays. Had around 670 of 'em, give or take."
Lydia sighed and closed her sketchbook carefully. "I don't see why we can't celebrate your birthday anyway." She wrinkled her nose and half closed her eyes in thought. "When I have my birthday, you're saying you're glad I exist, right? So why can't we have your birthday so I can be glad you exist." She sighed once more and put her sketchbook in a drawer, away from prying eyes. "It's not fairto you, BJ. We should do something to celebrate."
Beetlejuice zapped the Rubik's cube into a sugar cube, threw it out the window, shoved his hands into his pockets and shrugged. "Okay, here's the deal. When it's your birthday, we'll both be glad I'm here to give you a present." He grinned at her, then cackled. "Only three more weeks, babes!"
ooooooo
In the late afternoon of the big day, Beetlejuice appeared in the mirror awkwardly balancing an unwieldy package behind his back. "Happy seventeenth birthday, Lyds!" he yelled. "You promised me cake!"
The gift he carried was wrapped in crumpled and torn aluminum foil, topped with a gaudy purple bow that probably outweighed the entire package. But he presented it as if it contained the Crown Jewels.
Lydia Called him through the mirror, took the package, and exclaimed in delight over the original wrapping job. Carefully, she peeled back the foil to discover two vigorous and ravenous Venus fly-traps. Her mouth fell open and she put a hand to her heart. "BJ, they're beautiful!" She patted and caressed the two plants, being careful to avoid the spiny mouths. "I love them! I'll call them Cupid and Eros." She ran to him and threw her arms around his neck. "Thank you!"
Beetlejuice accepted the hug with a grin and, unusually, pulled her back for another couple of seconds when she first started to pull away. Then he raised an eyebrow and cocked his head. "Why those names, babes?"
"Cupid was the son of Venus, and Eros . . . well, he's sort of the Greek counterpart of Cupid." She shrugged. "I just think those names are appropriate, okay?" She slanted a half-lidded glance at her friend and blushed slightly.
He never noticed, as he was rooting in a jacket pocket for something. "Here ya go!" He extended a hand and dumped several flies into Lydia's grasp. "They were alive when I caught 'em," he apologized.
She trickled some over Cupid and then Eros and both mouths snapped to greedily, accepting the offerings. "I guess they were alive enough." She grinned at the plants and then at Beetlejuice. "So now I have a surprise for you. You never told me when your birthday is, so I've decided we'll share one. Happy birthday, Beej!" She dragged something from underneath her bed and presented him with a two-foot square box covered in black wrapping paper with a white ribbon.
"Aw, babes." He hesitated, then took the box from her and gazed at it in confused pleasure. "You didn't have to do this." He bit his lip for an instant, then grinned at her. "But you know I'd never turn down a present!" He ripped off the ribbon, then the paper, then pulled back the tabs of the box. Of course, it was upside down. Carefully, he tipped the box over and allowed the gift to fall into his hand. It was a soft, magenta cushion; a black felt beetle, outlined in fine silver braid was sewn onto it. "Did you make this?" he murmured.
Lydia grinned. "Whenever you weren't lurking or looking." She studied his face. "Do you like it? I lean up against you when we're watching movies at the Roadhouse, but you're stuck with that awful wooden armrest."
He was silent, running his hand over the beetle again and again. Suddenly, his mouth twitched and he turned to the window abruptly as if to examine the cushion more closely in the late afternoon sun. Lydia thought she might have heard a tiny sniff, but said nothing herself.
"It's, um . . ." There might have been another little sniff and there was definitely a shake of the head. "It's . . . exquisite." He cleared his throat and murmured, "Thank you," so quietly she barely heard it.
She'd never seen him so completely still or heard that soft tone of voice.
Then he turned and said cheerfully, "So where's the cake?"
ooooooo
The night of his new birthday, Beetlejuice lay curled in his coffin and a felt beetle was cradled against his heart.