Valentine
by
Owlcroft
A/N: This is eighth in the chronology and is a foreshadowing of the wedding night depicted in the next story, Jittersbugs.
"Roses are red,
Violets are blue,
Snails are tasty.
Crickets are, too."
Beetlejuice sighed and scratched his head. The first two lines were a given, but the last two were proving to be a problem. He'd tried various combinations, such as "I lose my mind when I look at you" and "When you kiss me I turn into goo", but they were all retch-making or stupid.
But this was the first Valentine's Day he would celebrate with Lydia and he was determined to do it right. Delia had helped by getting a lobster for him to cook for tonight's dinner, and he'd picked flowers for Lydia. But the card? Maybe the gift would make up for a crummy card.
Everything was ready, everything was all set up, but the card just sat there and sneered at him. Lydia was due any minute and he was all out of ideas. And then the bell rang and she came in and all he could do was shove the card under 'Slime' magazine and welcome her with the best kiss he could manage.
Lydia, after returning his kiss with enthusiasm and obvious enjoyment, set down a large envelope and handed Beetlejuice a somewhat smaller red one. "Happy Valentine's Day, Beej." She kissed him again and motioned to the red envelope.
"Oh. Uh, I was thinking . . . maybe we do cards and presents after we eat. If that's okay?" He looked at her anxiously. "'Cause the food's just about ready and . . . and I need to open the champagne and . . . look! I got you flowers!" And handed them to her.
Lydia smiled at him fondly and smelled the viper's bugloss and pigsqueak. "Where do you find these?" she marveled. "They're beautiful. And so are you," as she lifted her face to kiss his cheek.
He'd finally stopped blushing when she said that, but he still felt a little abashed. "It's time for champagne," he blurted and instantly held a bottle in his hands.
ooooo
When Beetlejuice had served their meals, Lydia poured more champagne and raised her glass to him. "Here's to us," she said. "Happy Valentine's Day, Beej. I love you."
"Yeah," he mumbled. "Happy . . . um, m'too."
Lydia's broiled lobster tail was cooked perfectly and BJ had even managed to steal a potato to bake and some sour cream from the Deetz kitchen for her.
"It's okay, isn't it?" he asked anxiously. "I never did lobster before. I mean, it all tastes like it should? It's all right?"
Her only answer was an eyes-closed 'mmmmm', so, reassured, he started on his own meal – the rest of the lobster, raw and crunchy and messy, and he enjoyed it immensely.
"I guess they are sort of insects of the ocean." Lydia watched him devour the crustacean down to the very last shell fragments as she savored her own dinner.
Beetlejuice finished sucking the last lobster juice from his fingers, then leaned back and patted his stomach. "Yum!" he sighed. "Yours couldn't have been as good as that."
She laughed a little. "Opinions may differ. But I am full. Did you get any dessert?"
"Yeah, I do have something but if you want, it can wait." He emptied the champagne bottle into their glasses and then zapped the table clear.
Lydia took another sip of champagne, then stood up to circle behind her fiancé and wrap her arms around his neck.
"As a matter of fact, I had something in mind for dessert," she told him softly. She kissed his neck, then ran her mouth up to his ear. "I'm not wearing any underwear," she whispered seductively. He clenched his hands into fists, then became immobile.
Lydia ran her mouth slowly over his ear up to the sensitive pointed tip, then kissed it. Then licked it.
Beetlejuice gasped and flinched. "D-don't . . ." he managed to say.
"Beej," she sighed into his ear. "I love you. And I want you. Right now."
Instantly, he was on the other side of the room, leaning on arms propped against the wall, breathing heavily. "Don't," he said again. "Please . . . don't."
Not ever being one to give up, Lydia went to him and sidled between him and the wall, squeezing up against his body and pushing her face against his. "I know you think this is too early, but we're going to be married in four months. I'm not going to wait that long to make love to you, Beej."
His only response was to breath harder, his eyes shut tight.
So she pressed her mouth against his, pressed her body against his, and pressed her hands against the small of his back, pulling him as close as she could.
And he suddenly surrendered and kissed her back, ardently, fully, aggressively. For the first time, Lydia could feel just how much he wanted her, how aroused he was, and how much passion she ignited in him.
For several minutes, their mouths and hands engaged in a dance of desire, caressing areas previously denied, indulging in touches that were previously forbidden. Then Beetlejuice was pushing against her, nearly crushing her against the wall, cupping the rounded softness of her hips in his hands, and panting in her ear even as he bit the lobe gently, "Help me."
Lost in her own needs, Lydia took a second to process what he had said.
"Please . . . I have to stop!"
Lydia abruptly realized he meant what he'd said, and pushed him away from her.
He stumbled away, eyes shut, leaving her standing alone, confused and wanting. Then, slowly, he sank to his knees, sitting on his heels, head bowed, trembling. "I want you so much," he ground out, hoarser than ever. "I need you and I want you, but I won't. I can't!"
Lydia wrapped her arms around herself and took two steps toward him.
"We can't go on like this. You have to stop us because I don't think I can anymore." Beetlejuice was still breathing heavily.
Cautiously, Lydia knelt a short distance from him and waited until his breathing was easier and he had stopped trembling. "Beej," she said then, "I'm sorry."
He shook his head, but kept his eyes closed.
"Can we talk about this, about . . . what just happened?" She inched a little closer. "Please? Could you, maybe . . . explain to me what I did wrong?"
Beetlejuice sighed deeply, then held out a hand to her. "You didn't do anything wrong," he said quietly. "It's me."
Lydia took his hand and moved yet closer to him. "Is it something that . . . we can fix? Or change? Or . . . I don't know. Please talk to me."
"I don't know if . . . if I can explain it. Or explain it right." He finally opened his eyes and looked at her. "Listen to me, Lyds. Please, listen." After another deep breath, he began, "You probably think I won't let us . . . do this because I don't trust your feelings or don't believe what you tell me. But I do. I do. It's just that I know I'm not good enough for you and I guess I'm afraid that . . . you'll realize it, too, maybe when it's too late. It's not something that's conscious, babes!" Beetlejuice shook his head and groaned. "Why am I so bad at this?"
Lydia crawled to sit beside him, holding his hand in both of hers now. "My darling Beej. I know . . . you tend to be a little . . . insecure. I also know that you do believe in what we have together. What you don't seem able to believe is that I'm never going to change my mind about you, about us."
He turned to look at her more directly. "I do believe it, just like I believe in what I . . . feel for you. But way down deep, in the dark, in my subconscious, I also believe I don't deserve you. That I don't have the right to even . . . you know,feel that for you." Beetlejuice closed his eyes for a moment, then looked at his betrothed again. "You know I'm not used to feeling. And . . . I don't understand it very well sometimes, it confuses me, and . . . sometimes it even hurts. I don't know what's right or too fast, and I have to be sure I don't . . . mess us up, I guess." He looked down at her hand holding both of his. "Iknow what I want; I guess you do, too, now. But I know I shouldn't have it, I don't deserve it. I don't deserve you. And something keeps telling methis -" he waved his free hand between them, "isn't right. That I shouldn't. That I must not do this." Suddenly, his shoulders slumped. "Maybe I'm just old-fashioned," he said with a small smile.
That got a brief laugh from her, and she laid a hand on his cheek. "Well, we'll just be old-fashioned together then. But I wasn't planning on wearing white, you know. I mean, just look at my skin tone – me, in white!"
He smiled back at her. "You'd be beautiful in sackcloth." He pushed his cheek against her hand. "You know, you're so young, and we have so much time. There's no hurry for this, Lyds. Yeah, we both want it, want it now, but when you're looking at forever, a few months isn't even an eyeblink." He extended his other hand to her and she took it. "I should've had more control. Shouldn't have given in to you."
"Or maybe you should have told me all this before?" Lydia squeezed his hands a little tighter. "No, that's not true at all! This is my fault, for trying to force you to do something you didn't think was right. I think," she paused for a moment, "I just now realized how awful that was of me, to try to seduce you when I knew you wanted to wait. BJ, I was so unfair, so horrible to you!"
He laughed at that, sincerely and fondly. "Yeah, you were the horriblest thing I've ever seen." He leaned to kiss her and pull her to him. "You were so horrible to me that I wanted you to never stop being horrible to me." He kissed her again, then got to his feet, lifting her with him. "Babes, it's not your fault, it's mine for not being able to tell you stuff like this very well."
Lydia smiled at him and put her hand over his heart. "So you forgive me? And we'll wait, for now anyway."
"Yes, and afraid so." BJ grinned wryly. "After all this, chocolate cake sounds kind of insignificant."
"Oh, your present!" Lydia kissed him briefly then looked around to find the envelope she'd brought. "After all that, this is going to seem pretty insignificant, but . . . Happy Valentine's Day, my darling Beej."
He opened the envelope and his eyes got big, but his grin was even bigger. "Lyds! The New York Times crosswords! This is awesome!" He gave her a huge hug and a smacking kiss.
"The subscription is for all the dailies and the Sundays once a month in a booklet," she said with a grin. "I bet you can't do them all in ink!"
"Just watch me," he replied, grinning back at her. "Now . . . I hope you like this. It was too big to wrap." He juiced a bolt of fabric into his hands and held it out to her. "It's linen. From flax, you know, grown along the Nile. From 53 B.C., Cleopatra's time."
Now it was Lydia's eyes that grew big and she gasped as she took the roll of unbleached linen from him. "Really? BJ, is this really . . .?" She ran her hand gently over the material and gaped at it for a few seconds, then gave Beetlejuice an adoring look. "There aren't enough thank-yous in the world for this. You are the most thoughtful, the most lovable, the most darling -"
"Hey, wait a sec." He rummaged under 'Slime' magazine and pulled out the card he'd spent so much time mulling over. Turning his back, he juiced up a pen and hurriedly wrote two lines in it, zapped it into an envelope with her name on it and presented it to her.
Lydia set her priceless bolt of cloth on the couch, found the card she'd brought for him and exchanged it for the one he'd just finished. "You go first," she said.
Somewhat shyly, Beetlejuice pulled his card from the envelope to find a simple red heart on a white background. Across it, slanted the words 'Yours, always'. He pulled the card open to read, 'Will you be mine, always? Love, Your Lydia'. He smiled, bit his lip, and held out his arms to her.
After a lengthy hug, he told her to read her card.
Lydia smiled, found the card again and opened it to see hand-drawn flowers with a simple message below.
"Roses are red,
Violets are blue.
I can't say that word,
But you know that I do."
After a short, tender kiss, they looked at each other, smiling and holding hands. Then, "Cake?" said Beetlejuice.
"Cake," answered Lydia. "But soon now, I'm having a dessert better than cake."