Chapter 27: Bargains

"Ugh..." Lydia groaned, her head throbbing from the previous night's intoxication. She found herself under a pile of dusty old blankets in Beetle's bed. She felt hot, sweaty, and completely ready to vomit. In all her living years she had always assumed that a ghost could not succumb to physical ailments, but she soon realized that her assumptions couldn't have been further from the truth.

Eyes growing wide, she quickly held a hand over her mouth and staggered her way to the bathroom. After a good bit of time praying to the porcelain god, she promptly flushed, then stood on wobbly legs, making her way to the sink to brush away the grossness.

After the initial cleaning process, she sighed with relief, splashing her face with cold water and enjoying the silence. However, that silence was short lived, due to a loud, abrupt bang at the front door.

Lydia gasped, freezing in her tracks, hand still pressing against the bathroom door. "Oh no..." she whispered to herself, hearing Beetle's heavy footsteps pacing through the house. She listened as he stepped into what seemed to be the kitchen, most likely to retrieve some alcohol. After the short pitstop, her eyes widened once more to hear him coming toward the very door she stood pressed against.

Shit! Lydia wasn't quite sure how to behave or even if was wise to make her presence known to the poltergeist, considering his last form of communication involved a big, smokey middle finger to her face.

Unfortunately, the choice was yanked right out of her hands as Beetle twisted the knob, trying to get in the locked doorway.

"Uh...Occupied..." Lydia mumbled, cringing at just how awkward she felt about the whole situation. She bristled, hearing him mutter bitterly to himself, as he walked on by. That, in and of itself, was a whole new level of uneasy for her. Beetlejuice was never that quiet, and never at a loss for words.

Half in curiousity, half in fear, Lydia pressed her ear to the door, listening to him entering his bedroom. Shortly thereafter, the quiet of the morning took a flying leap, as Beetlejuice began to tantrum as he was prone to do. Of course, this time she was a bit more fearful, because his ranting was a bit more ranty than usual. And that's when she heard the tail-end of what he was saying.

"...Now where is that fucking ring?!" he bellowed in rage, as Lydia gasped, looking to her left hand. She'd completely forgotten about last night - about getting completely plastered and trying on his ring.

Panicking, she pressed her back agains the door and tugged at the ring. Maybe she'd just pretend she found it in the bathroom so he wouldn't take his pissed mood out on her anymore.

"What?" she yelped, feeling a shock of electricity as she tugged. The result was a painful jolt as the ring refused to budge. "No..." she inhaled, trying once more, only to be literally juiced again. "No, no, no!" she whimpered, hearing Beetle's raging steps coming near once more. Every attempt to remove the wedding band brought another shock, each worse than the last.

He began to pound on the door, "Deetz, hurry it up! I gotta problem here!"

"Uh...J-just a minute!" she replied, buying a literal minute to decide what to do. Obviously, the ring wasn't coming off, so she had to think quick. Her powers! That was it. Lydia focused as much as possible, as a black pair of gloves materialized over her hands, hiding her transgression. She quickly looked to a spot on the sink, focusing even harder than before. An identical, albeit fake, ring appeared on that very spot, as Lydia breathed a sigh of relief.

"C'mon, damnit! I don't have all day!" he fumed, banging on the door even harder.

"Okay! I'm finished!" Lydia feigned an amicable voice, though she secretly felt the urge to slam the door into his face for being such an ass.

"'Bout time..." he stood, arms folded, back in his signature striped attire. She stepped out of the way as he barged in, slamming the door shut.

She exhaled happily, when she heard him mumble to himself.

"Ah, there you are...How the fuck did you end up in here? Heh, booze really makes a man misplace shit."

Most of Lydia's day was relatively quiet, and that alone disturbed her. Beetlejuice was never quiet unless he was in a bad mood or plotting on someone. He stayed to himself, while she sat awkwardly on the sofa watching a marathon of Post Mortem Paternity, and wondering just why she was compelled to do that.

And then her thoughts began to creep to areas she didn't want to think about while he was just a few rooms away. Should she apologize? No! She couldn't help her emotions got the better of her. But then again, she did screw up another bargain. He did just admit some sort of affection toward her, while she failed to consider it in the least.

Despite her confusion, Lydia didn't think his decision to leave would change, either way. So she knew it wouldn't throw him off. Besides, there was that awful, nagging guilt coming back. And, if anything, she decided last night that she was insane enough to care for the idiot. Lydia even thought it best that he did leave. At least he'd be happy and not so damned miserable. It wasn't like she didn't have anyone anymore. She had the power to travel back to Winter Rivers now, so she wouldn't be alone.

Lydia inhaled, standing and preparing herself to witness Beetle either laughing hysterically in her face or having another psychotic tantrum. She sighed, shaking her head and realizing just how absurd her afterlife truly was. No matter what his reaction, she was determined to speak her mind, regardless. She slowly began the long walk to his room in the back of the Roadhouse, wondering just why that pesky conscience of hers was always in need of cleaning.

Lydia cleared her throat, unnerved by the eerie silence while she stood before the shambly door to his bedroom. Maybe he wasn't even in there anymore. Perhaps that was why it remained so silent. Lydia pressed an ear against his door, jumping as she heard loud sound of glass shatter on the other side. Nope, he was definitely in there. And he was still pissed.

She shook her head, as if to shake the dread away. This needed to be done. He had helped her gain her power back on top of saving her Maitlands back in the day. The least she could do was tell him she was sorry - and more, if he'd allow it.

Timidly, she pecked lightly on the old door, unnerved when her surroundings grew silent once more.

"...BJ?" she forced herself to call out.

"What do YOU want?!" his less-than-pleasant tone growled on the other side.

"Can I come in?" she asked softly, hoping not to rile him any more than necessary. Strangely, she not only felt the need to apologize again, but a stronger urge to help him. It was almost as if she were beginning to become drawn to him in a way she hadn't experienced before, and she wasn't quite sure why.

"Whatever."

She figured that was as close to a "yes" as she was going to get, so she slowly creaked the old door open. Her brow furrowed in a strange mixture of confusion and pity as Beetlejuice lay propped up on the headboard of his bed, in a stained white shirt and his pinstripe pants with cigarette butts and busted beer bottles strewn across his room. A couple of nudie magazines laid in a corner with the centerfolds stretched out, causing her to briefly wrinkle her nose up.

"What?!" he barked, flicking the ashes of his smoke on the already mountainous pile that had formed beside him on his bed.

"Listen..." she spoke, taking a step closer and hoping he wouldn't clamp her lips shut. "I didn't mean to ruin our deal..." she began.

Beetle took a swig from his nearly-empty beer, draining the remaining contents and smashing it against the wall, causing Lydia to jump slightly. "Eh...Not surprising, Deetz, given your shitty track record. If ya get mah drift." he remarked, scratching his nether regions in what seemed to be an attempt to appear as gross and unappealing as possible. And it was working.

"I know..." she nervously began wringing her hands as she averted her eyes from his unabashed ball scratching. "I owe you an apology."

"What?" Beetle wrinkled his face in true shock for the briefest moment, before replacing the expression with his signature pissed off at the Neitherworld face again. "Oh, no ya don't! The B-man ain't takin' no more apologies! Nope! No sir! No way! They don't mean shit anyway, Toots! They just...well...complicate shit..." he trailed off, scratching his moldy head and staring at the nudie mags across the room.

Lydia frowned, puzzled and at a loss for words. "But I am really sorry. I didn't mean to screw things up. I didn't mean to react to Eugene-"

"Enough about that asshat! That little prick and his pet hooker are still MY property. I'm just too pissed to care if they go runnin' all the way to hell to get away from me." he growled, taking another drag from his cigarette.

Lydia sighed, feeling a bit frustrated in her inability to change his mood. She stepped across the room and sat on the edge of his bed, fiddling with the ring hidden beneath her gloves. "I really did it this time, didn't I? I really made you hate my guts forever."

Beetle paused a moment, "Your words, Deetz, not mine..."

Lydia folded her arms, confused by his statement. "So, what is that supposed to mean? You don't hate me but you act like you do? Ugh, I don't know anymore..." she sighed, frustrated deeply by his erratic behavior.

"It means forget about it! Ain't yer problem no way, Toots." he shrugged, pulling another brew out of thin air.

"Well...Why are you all holed up in your room?" Lydia frowned, her mood lowering by the minute. She didn't quite understand why, but she thought she could almost feel his rotten attitude in her veins, and it wasn't pretty.

"Erghh...Just like you, Deetz. Nosey as fuck. Look, here's the deal. Jerry Porkbelly or whatever the fuck his name is...The B-man specifically told him to say the magic words if and when dumb and dumber threw another banger." he began, his voice and movements becoming more aggressive as he spoke. "Well, I'm pretty damned sure that two broads that stay that drunk and horny have more than likely thrown a kegger or two by now! So, yeah I'm not exactly on cloud nine that morbidly obese PeeWee Herman hasn't decided to honor our little agreement! Fuck!" he jumped out of bed, smashing the bottle on the floor as the lights dimmed. Lydia's eyes widened at that very moment, feeling heat and energy build up inside of her with his rage. Just what was going on?

"Ya know what? Everybody attacks the ole' B-man when it's convenient. Oh, look at him! He's gross! He's an asshole! He lasts three seconds in the sack! Yeah, I may be all that shit, but I keep a fuckin' deal!" he threw his hands about, stomping and throwing a literal fit until the lights in his room exploded, leaving them in darkness, save from a little light from his dirty window.

Lydia could see his glowing green eyes glaring at her in the darkness. It wasn't just Gerald who couldn't keep a bargain. Truthfully, she could feel just how angry and dejected the hostile ghost was. It was mostly directed toward her. She could feel it. She averted her eyes from his intense stare, gazing down at the broken glass on his floor, thoughts racing through her mind as she searched for someway to help. At the same time, she felt a bit fearful of just how much she wanted to help. It was as if she held some sort of deep connection inside of her - one she'd not really experienced before. It simply drove her to fix things between them. Maybe it always had to a small extent, but now more than ever, it had intensified greatly.

"You're right. You can keep a bargain. Maybe..." Lydia trailed off, as an idea came to mind." Maybe I can talk to Gerald for you. Maybe I can change his mind - persuade him further. Or at least find out what's going on."

"What?!" Beetle's gaze fell slack, as Lydia felt the intense, angry energy inside herself fade away all of a sudden. "Why the fuck would ya do that?" he asked, profoundly astonished.

Good. She'd caught him off guard. Now was her chance to possibly fix things for the both of them. "Because, whether you like it or not, we're friends. You saved my family and you've helped me more than you'll know. I want to help you, too..." she said, the softness in her voice alarming even her, as she reached out and placed a hand on his shoulder. As her hand touched his bare arm, a strange, warm current of electricity began to tingle in her palm, flowing up her arm and causing her to feel tremendously uneasy. Apparently Beetle felt it too, for the expression on his face was that of pure, unadulterated terror.

After the brief shock of it all, he promptly backed away from her, scoffing. "Yeah...yeah, alright, Deetz. Fine, if yer gonna get all weepy and shit on me. See if you can get that butterball to cooperate. Probably the only chance I got left, anyway." he grunted, reaching for his striped jacket. He put it on, knocking copious amounts of dust from it, before grabbing a lit cigarette from his pocket and taking a hard draw from it. All the terror seemed to remain hidden, Lydia mused. However, she also noticed, that the thick, electric feeling of anger had vanished as well. Interesting.