Tempered Hearts
by
Owlcroft

.

A/N: "Tempering is a . . . process which serves to further increase . . . beneficial properties . . . specifically by increasing strength."

Lydia was in a great mood, cycling home from school. Her birthday was coming up, with Halloween following soon after, and school was so much easier now that she didn't have to grind for grades. Most important of all, she was going to marry her best friend and true love the next summer. Life was good. Suddenly the bike jolted sharply, nearly unseating her, and she hopped off to find the back tire rapidly deflating with a shard of glass in it.

There went that good mode. She put her hands on her hips, scowled at the tire, looked around to see if help was visible in either direction, then decided to Call Beetlejuice.

There was a short delay after she'd said his name three times, then a bare arm extended from her bike mirror with one red-tipped finger held up.

"What?" she said. Fuming at her tire and things in general, she chanted his name again.

This time, a frazzled-looking blond head popped through the mirror, growled, "Give me a minute, willya!" and withdrew.

Lydia took a deep breath, shouted the name "Beetlejuice" three times and finally he appeared completely, looking annoyed and disheveled.

"So what is it that couldn't wait one minute?" he demanded, putting on his striped jacket.

"My tire! What took you so long? I Called you three times!" Lydia matched his annoyance and raised him a crabby.

"I was in the middle of something . . . something I really wanted to finish, and now I've got to start all over again!" Beetlejuice glanced at her bike tire, flashed a hand at it, and it was repaired. "Okay? Can I go now?" His tone was seeing her crabby and re-raising to angry.

Lydia lowered her eyebrows and glowered at him. "What is so important that you just had to finish it?"

"It's a secret."

"Oh, really?"

"Yes, really! And it was something that couldn't be interrupted. Except it waaas, and now I have to go back to the beginning and do it all over again!" Beetlejuice was glaring at her now.

"How did you know I wasn't hurt or in danger or something?" Lydia folded her arms across her chest and glared right back.

"I looked the first time you Called, through that dinky little mirror. I could see you were fine. Why couldn't you give me that one stupid minute I asked for?"

"You mean you spied on me? How often do you spy on me? And where? When I'm asleep, at school, in the shower?"

"I don't spy on you! I just looked this time 'cause I couldn't stop what I was doing! But then I had to stop, didn't I, 'cause somebody just couldn't wait any longer, couldn't wait for me to finish!" He was truly angry now, and his voice was louder than ever. "You actually think I spy on you, when you pull my chain whenever you have any problem at all – you treat me like a doll that you put back in the toybox when you're through playing!"

"Well, you treat me like I'm a baby to be amused and then you go back to the Neitherworld to more important things. And you're the one who's always showing up begging me to 'say the B-words'! Then you keep secrets from me! And why were you partly undressed? I know you weren't in the shower!" She was suddenly suspicious of that bare arm she'd seen. "Were you alone with whatever your secret is?"

"Hmph!"

"So you weren't alone! What exactly were you up to that you couldn't be disturbed?" Lydia's eyes had narrowed almost to slits.

"I was alone and it was something important and it's still a secret!" Beetlejuice folded his arms belligerently and stared at her.

Lydia fanned the flames of her anger. "But I thought I was the most important thing to you! What is so much more important to you than I am?"

"You are the most important thing to me! You always have been! I've told you that, lots of times!" Even as he drew breath to continue, his face changed. "I've told you that," he said, looking unsettled. "Lots of times. Of course you are. I've never even thought that about anything else. Why don't you know you're the most important thing?"

"Because . . . because you . . ." Suddenly Lydia found her anger fading and saw that Beetlejuice was truly disconcerted now. "It was because . . . you didn't . . . I didn't know why you weren't here right away." Even she felt that was a weak response.

"Wait. You . . . don't trust me? You don't trust my feelings for you. That's what you're saying, isn't it?" His voice was much more subdued now and he pulled his gaze away from Lydia. "You think . . . I don't . . ." As he trailed off, he turned slightly, his expression now one of confusion and agitation. He started to speak, then turned further away, head down and eyes closed. He stayed like that for several seconds, breathing deeply, then turned back to her and said in a muted tone, "You ought to believe there's nothing more important than you, but you don't. Because I was late getting here. That's why you don't believe me any more?"

"BJ, it's not that I don't believe you." Lydia approached him, touched his arm gently. "I guess . . . I was already mad about the tire and when you didn't come when I Called – "

Beetlejuice looked at her, unhappy, and held out imploring hands to her. "But I always come when you Call me. I always do. But this time, I only asked for one minute to finish . . . a surprise for you, for your birthday. Do you want me to tell you what it is? I will. I'll do anything for you." He dropped his eyes from hers and muttered, "I just want you to believe me, to believe I still . . . feel that way for you. Tell me what to do to make you trust me again."

"I do trust you, really! I do believe you love me. I know you do! I think I just expected you to be here immediately and fix everything." She clenched his hands in hers. "Oh, Beej, I just realized how much I take you for granted! Oh, that's . . . I'm so ashamed, but I do! You always help me, come when I Call, fix everything. I was taking you for granted and got upset when you had something else – something of your own to do. That's so awful of me!"

"But isn't that what two people who feel for each other are supposed to do? To know that they can be sure of what the other one feels for them? To take that feeling for granted, forever?" Beetlejuice, still confused but slightly reassured, rubbed his face on her hand.

Her own temper completely dissipated by his uncertainty and discomfort, Lydia told him, "I suppose we could take our love for granted, but not each other. If that makes sense to you. I know you love me and you know I love you. Beej, honest, I do believe and trust you. I was just mad and I . . . you were mad, too, and I didn't understand that you were doing something else that shouldn't be interrupted and . . . I'm sorry."

"Lyds, I don't . . . always understand some stuff. You know that. But if you believed what I've told you, if you really meant the things you've said to me, then . . . why . . ." Beetlejuice frowned and tightened his own grip on her hands. "Did you . . . were you . . . so mad that you forgot what you feel? Or did you . . . did being mad at me make you not feel it any more?"

That called for the strongest embrace she could give him, and several kisses and words of love and many, many assurances and explanations. They stood entwined, holding each other securely, for a handful of minutes, each making absolutely sure the other was confident in the love between them.

"I was already kind of grouchy because the . . . the secret is harder than I thought it would be and it has to be perfect." Beetlejuice kissed his betrothed yet again. "I should've just given it up and come as soon as you Called."

"No, you shouldn't. I didn't understand at first you were just asking for a minute. It was my fault, Beej. Completely my fault." Lydia ran a hand along his jaw then kissed it. "Probably because I'd been in such a wonderful mood right before the tire went. It was just like someone had sucker-punched me."

"What do you know about sucker punches? Where did you even hear that?"

Lydia grinned at him. "You said it, then I looked it up." Her grin faded, then she said, "I am sorry. Honestly."

"I didn't mean you thought I was like a doll. I just hate being away from you, ever."

"And I never meant that you treat me like a baby. You are so good to me!"

"Even when I was mad, I never stopped . . . feeling that for you. You know that, right? I never will." Beetlejuice ran a finger softly down her cheek, gazing at her with a lingering touch of anxiety.

"And I never will, either. Even if I get mad at you. Remember that, Beej." Lydia leaned her face into his hand.

Another kiss was clearly called for at that point. Then, "Was that a tiff, a fight, a spat? Whatever it was, I hated it. Please let's don't do that again." Beetlejuice touched his chest contemplatively. "It hurt."

"We'll both try not to argue or fight again." Lydia considered for a moment. "Although, making up is awfully nice."

"Babes, we can make up without fighting first."

She smiled at him lovingly. "I like that idea. But Beej, I just have to say one more time how sor – "

Beetlejuice stopped her in the most effective way possible.