Disclaimer: Beetlejuice and Co belong to Geffen. Alas that he did not choose to make further use of them.

Chapter 3: Mirror Mirror

Shutting and locking the door was very, very satisfying. Lydia wandered over to her purple sphere chair and collapsed bonelessly into it. Wait… purple? She jumped up, but not soon enough to escape getting her backside pinched. "Dammit B! Out of the frying pan…!"

"You promised there would be coffee." Now fully materialized, Beetlejuice sat smug as a cat in her favorite chair, now back to its original red. She looked around for something to throw at him, but there was nothing handy that was big enough. With a small scream of frustration, she stalked into the kitchenette. "I take cream and sugar!" he shouted after her.

As she rinsed out the coffeemaker from that morning and refilled it, she pondered her own words. Had she gotten herself into a bigger mess than she could handle by calling him? She felt a little guilty at that, because of what he had done for her tonight. Of course, all she had to do was say his name and he would be out of her life. But of course, all he had to do was make it impossible for her to speak. That chilled her a little, remembering the steel plate affixed to Barbara's mouth that terrible night. But he wouldn't hurt her. Her dad, mom, the Maitlands… just about every one else, but never her. She scowled. She'd rather he tossed her in the Winter River than be married to him. China with a cockroach pattern. With that lovely thought on her mind, she poured the coffee, gathered milk and sugar on an orange plastic cafeteria tray, and carried it back into the main room, where she caught Beetlejuice rifling through her papers.

"Quit! Do you mind?" She handed him the entire tray and he took it awkwardly and then just set it adrift on a particularly weighty current of air.

"I don't mind at all, babe! I'm just getting' to know my future wife better." He gave her a toothy grin, and she scowled even deeper.

"We've been over this."

"Not to where I'm satisfied, darlin'."

"I. am. not. your. darling." She grabbed her own cup, and fell gracelessly into the chair he had vacated. Still red. She sighed and closed her eyes, suddenly very tired. "Thank you for tonight, B. I didn't think I was going to get out of there intact." And then she flushed, hoping that he didn't realize what she had just tacitly admitted. Damn, she was more tired than she thought.

When she opened her eyes again, he was peering at her curiously. Something in her eyes warned him off, and for once in his long afterlife, he took the hint. "Why were you even there, Lyds? You hate that stuff."

It was her turn to focus curiously on him. "How do you know?"

He stared intently at his own coffee. "Nothin! You just, you don't seem the partyin' type, is all!" But she didn't fall for his bluster, if she ever had.

"How do you know? Beetlej-"

"Ah ah ah! Fine, alright. I sometimes came to check up on you. But not much! Hardly at all, really. I mean, a popular guy like me has so much to do…" he trailed off. Because she was staring at him, hard.

"Spying, B?" Her voice was low and very dangerous. He glanced involuntarily at the mirror, and she almost dropped her coffee. "The mirror? You see me through the…!"

He looked at the floor, but she caught his cheeky grin. She was out of the chair in an instant. "You mean to tell me that you've watched me through my own mirror? Oh my God. I change in front of that!" He looked up at her, eyes wide.

"Lyds! I wouldn't take advantage like that! I mean, that's your privacy, and all. I," he said with a hint of asperity, "am a gentleman."

"Yeah, right." But she subsided. "Promise?"

"Cross my heart." He flicked his long fingers over the place where she supposed his heart used to be, when it was still beating.

She let out a breath. "You're already dead."

"So they tell me." Lydia slumped back down into her chair. A moment passed in silence, and then he burst into a huge guffawing laughter, unable to hold it in any longer. "You… you!" he gasped between breaths. "You actually believed me! Ha hah ah hah ha!" Her lips pressed together in fury, and she rode out the storm of his laughter in livid, mortified silence. Bastard. She should have taken her chances with Billy the Squid.