Betelgeuse, the ghost with the most, and best conman this side of either world knew that today was going to be a great fucking day. He knew it like he knew where to find a nice ripe sucker for the picking. He'd had a great lay the night before, hadn't even had to pay the bitch or drown her in booze. Some drunk newly dead unwidow in his favorite bar moaning about the husband she left behind, he hadn't even had to try to talk his way into her panties. Desperation really was his favorite flavor on a woman.

Too bad those types were the hardest to get out of his hair in the morning. Clung onto him like damn plastic wrap. Sure, he could milk them for a few more good nights, but he didn't want to spend every waking hour with the broads. The morning he woke up to the smell of them making him breakfast was usually when he knew they were too comfortable and they got the boot.

Betelgeuse dug around in his pocket for the bit of obituary he had ripped out of the paper. He had another job lined up and he had a good feeling about it, a damn good feeling. If he played his cards right he would be out long enough to find his little runaway bride this time around.

It should be easy to find her, shit he should have found her years ago, but a perfect shitstorm of not-quite-dumb enough clients and fucking Juno had kept him just behind the little minx.

The little minx that was still wearing his goddamn ring. Shit if that didn't speak volumes.

She had slipped it on mere days after the fiasco, that alone told him that she still wanted it, even if she would not admit it to herself. He could feel her through it like static in the back of his mind, and damn was she buzzing loud today. Girl couldn't get him off her goddamned mind. Usually he could block the connection out unless she was concentrating on him particularly hard, like now.

What the hell is she doin'? Flickin' the goddamn bean?

He felt the power of his name like a jolt down his spine, almost painful with the intensity the summoner had said it. He bit his cigarette between his teeth and cursed as he dug around in his pocket until he pulled out a small round mirror. Blinking back at him and absolutely reeking of desperation was the one and only Lydia Deetz.

Dame looked older, old enough to actually look like a woman. The lighting wasn't bright enough to take in more than the female form hunched over the candle-light in what looked like a bathrobe. The room was lost to blackness, but he didn't give two shits where she was anyway. Not when she had saved him the trouble of hunting her ass down.

Today was going to be one hell of a damn good day.

"Betelgeuse." She had hissed out the forbidden name with intent and held her breath as, at first, only her reflection stared back at her. She was crouched and tense over the sink with her hands white-knuckled on either side. God she was a mess, she looked like a damn vulture hunched like she was. Smoke filled the mirror then and blotted out the sight of her, only to be replaced with a crazy-haired mold-covered visage. The poltergeist's angle was a little odd as he seemed to be glaring down at her through the angle of the mirror.

"The fuck you tryn'a do split my damn head open?" His gravelly voice bit out around the lit cigarette as he squinted down at her. A sneer broke across his face and she knew he recognized her. "Well lookee who finally came a crawlin' back. Knew you'd change your mind, babes." His expression warped into a leer as he took in her changed appearance, mostly around her chest. "Lemme out and we can finish gettin' hitched."

His reaction wasn't what she had expected, but then again when did he ever do as expected. She had been bracing for fire and brimstone, probably a quip or two about how she had left him to the sandworms, and while she wouldn't say he was being exactly polite, he hadn't tried to reach through the mirror and throttle her yet, either. She took it as a good sign.

"I've got a job for you." Lydia kicked herself for being too hasty. He was going to know something was up and refuse to help her. There was no way a smooth-talking conman like him couldn't not scent the absolute hopelessness hanging around her like a storm cloud.

"Ah, ah, ah," he chided as he waggled a finger at her, "We already got a deal, babes, you're already mine." Lydia closed her eyes at the possessive statement and forced herself to remain calm. He thought she was his? She could work with this. She could do this.

"Well I have someone here who disagrees." She spat, hoping against hope that he'd rise to the challenge. She opened her eyes to see the specter openly scowling with his cigarette clamped tightly between his teeth.

"That breather ain't gonna be breathin' much longer if you don't tell him to take a fucking hike." There was a bite to his words that filled her with hope and she prayed he didn't notice how her hands trembled. She waited a beat to ensure her voice, at least, remained steady.

"You tell him yourself." She met his jade gaze through the mirror as he seemed to be absorbing her ragged appearance, then she jumped at his sudden bark of laughter.

"So, you got yourself a fleshie who don't know how to take no for an answer?" He blew smoke out his nose as he chortled in the back of his throat, "and what, you expect me to play white knight so you can shaft me again?"

Fuck, was he going to refuse? Her throat stung as her hands tightened around the edges of the sink. She could not keep fighting this thing, this demon, on her own. She hardly cared that she would not survive it, but she had a horrible feeling that if the thing killed her it would somehow keep her. The thing wasn't going to just let her spirit go on it's merry way.

"Please." She hated the despair that broke her voice, hated begging this conman for help, and absolutely hated the lump she had to swallow down before she could continue. "Please, just get rid of him and I'll do whatever you want." She knew promising this was beyond stupid of her but she was scared, she was tired, and she had convinced herself that this was the lesser of two evils. She just wanted it to end, and while the poltergeist was vile and disgusting, at least he had never hurt her in the past when he very well could have.

Several beats of silence followed her pleading outburst. Lydia could not for the life of her bring her eyes up to meet the Betelgeuse's gaze. Shame burned her face and eyes as she stared determinedly at the white porcelain before her.

"Sure." He acquiesced at last, "but don't think for a heartbeat you're getting out of it this time, girlie."

"Okay." Her voice was barely a whisper and her muscles began to tremble as she was flooded with relief. He was going help her. He was going to get rid of the damn beast. She choked back a hysterical sob and fought to keep her feet as she waited for her throat to loosen enough to speak clearly.

"Betelgeuse...Betelgeuse..." she raised her head to meet his eager gaze and he lifted an expectant eyebrow. "Betelgeuse." The moment the last syllable left her mouth he disappeared from the mirror and she felt the temperature of her bathroom drop ten degrees.

His aura was just as she remembered it, wild and raw and dangerous. It hummed against her skin and damn her she welcomed it. Her arms crossed under her breasts as if she could block the vulnerable feeling as easily as the cold. At least she'd thought ahead and wore her black sweater.

Betelgeuse did not immediately speak or move. He just stood there behind her and watched her tremble. Finally Lydia found the strength to slowly turn and face her fate. She fought not to flinch at the hard look that greeted her in his impossibly green eyes. Even his stare was feral, and glowed unnaturally in the candle light. He took a purposeful step towards her and smirked when she cringed slightly.

He reached to grip her chin firmly and lifted it to get a good view of her throat as he absently flicked his finger and popped the bathroom light on and bathed them both in the bright glow. She swallowed when she noticed a muscle in his jaw twitch as he took in the bruises she had hidden with the dim light. Then his eye caught one of the wounds on her shoulder and he dropped her chin.

"Shirt. OFF." He snapped. His leer returned and his voice turned into something absolutely wicked when she looked as if she would protest, "Don't worry babes, I don't collect until the job's done. 's bad business."

Lydia swallowed thickly and gripped the edges of her sweater with unsteady fingers before slowly lifting it over her skin, when she noticed that muscle in his jaw ticking in impatience she ripped it off like a bandaid. She crossed her arms over her nipples defensively. His gaze practically seared her flesh as he took in the goods. The energy that had hummed almost pleasantly against her became intense and raised gooseflesh along her arms, but she could not quite pinpoint the emotion behind the sudden change.

Betelgeuse had almost bit through his cigarette, the fuck was she doin' taking her shirt off like this was a damn strip tease. When the clothing was removed his eyes zeroed in on the assets, hell he was still a man, and he felt his trouser snake roll over in it's sleep. He was going to have fun with his grown up little wifey poo, much more fun than he would have had just being married in name all those years ago. Then his sights widened somewhat and he did bite through his smoke. With a disgusted sneer he spit the ruined thing into the ether and stalked towards his little fiance.

Said fiance backed clumsily away from him and the sudden severity in his gaze. She tripped over her own feet and fell the last couple of inches into the wall as the ghost leaned forward and traced the middle scab on her left shoulder. She winced at first, expecting the pain that usually accompanied touching the things, but his cool finger was soothing on the healing mark. His digit slid across unmarred flesh to the barely visible marks on her side then hooked the hem of her black sweat-pants and twitched. The pants fell with a 'swoosh' to pool on the tile at her feet.

His other hand came into play on her right thigh where the creature had gouged her flesh. His own three fingers settled over the scabs as if he were recreating the scene and Lydia's breath hitched at his touch.

"Now seems to me, babes," his breath hissed over her cheek and brought the smell of damp earth, grave soil maybe, "no breather did this to you." As he spoke the fingers traced their way back up the marks on her inner thigh and paused a hairs breadth from her panties. She bit back a whimper as his spider-light touch turned into a cold palm kneading her thigh.

"What this looks like ta me," he continued as his other hand danced it's way from her side to her left inner thigh, "is somethin' a bio-exorcist don't normally handle." Her heart climbed to her throat, but she allowed the gentle pressure of his hands to part her thighs and felt his cool form settle between them. "Might be needin' some payment up front, y'know? S'gonna be taxin'," Here he thrust his hips into her damp panties and a jolt of heat shot through her core, " to take care of this little problem for ya."

"You can do it?" Her voice was rough both with hope and desire. She would promise him anything if he could get rid of it, and with the way he was making her feel now she would give him her body in a heartbeat.

"o'course. Ghost with the most." He lowered his lips to her shoulder and she heard him inhale through his nose and his gravelly voice dropped an octave "Yer just gonna pay a little extra, babes." He paused thoughtfully as he pressed his cold hard member into her core again. "Maybe pay a couple times before service is finished, ya get me?"

"A-alright." She breathed out as she brought her own arms up to slide uncertainly over Betelgeuse's shoulders and hook behind his head. She hoisted herself up to wrap her legs sensually around his hips and press her hot little body flush against him. The poltergeists fingers began dancing inside the hem of her underwear, getting ready to dispose of the thing. He was so fixated on his conquest that he almost didn't notice the stiffening of her muscles or the tang of fear that had suddenly spoiled the amorous mood.

What he did notice was the deep growl that rumbled through the room.

A/N

Thanks for reading, and thank you The Art Of Suicide and GoldenAerie for the reviews it's thanks to you I decided to post this next chapter.