Chapter 13

The entire time they were talking, the higher-ups in the Netherworld were panicking. Beetlejuice had disappeared mysteriously (and impossibly), and the Carmichael residence had dropped off the map (also impossible).

The general air of triumph they had held at the imminent destruction of one of the most dangerous dead there was, had disappeared immediately. And to be able to make an entire household drop off the planet, so to speak, the way he obviously did . . .

The monster was obviously more of a threat than they had ever realized. All attempts to call him back were proving useless (yet another impossibility), and complaints from all over the Netherworld were burying them alive, with comments that the dangerous ghost's "Juice" had been felt. All over the Netherworld. ALL over.

And they still couldn't find him!!

It was infuriating. They held all his paperwork, they should be able to locate him, wherever he was, at a moment's notice. They always had been before, and that had always been his downfall. No matter how powerful he was, they had always been able to tuck him away into some place where he would be less bothersome.

Since they apparently couldn't do that anymore, who knew what kind of trouble he could get into now?

--

The poltergeist of whom they were so worried about was spending a couple of truly marvelous days absolutely relaxed on Dr. Lydia's orders. His nickname for her, Lyds, had come back to his rusty mind within a day.

Although he was much calmer now, his energy still lay thickly over the entire house, nebulous and restless. It gave the house a strange, heavy feeling, something the Allens noticed very quickly. However, by this point they were quite used to their benevolent ghost, and just assumed it was having an off couple of days.

Beetlejuice was not inclined to be friendly towards the new family. He would much rather have had the entire house to him and his Lyds, than have to share it with yet another set of breathers, especially two that looked just as gullible as the Maitland's had been. (He had remembered them within two days, also his burning hatred of them. But they were gone, and best forgotten.)

But Lydia was fond of them, just a little, and she did not want them scared in the way Beetlejuice would scare them. So she stood up for them, and demanded that he have nothing to do with them, especially after hearing further details about "Dullard".

Then one day, he wandered up into the attic, and spotted several tracings through the dust on the window. Then he had to forcefully hold back tears, for there, preserved in the dust, was that ancient finger drawing of himself with bumpy arms, and Lyds poised to step on him.

It was still there, after what Lydia had told him was fifty-three years. Hell, her family hadn't lasted as long as this silly little drawing.

And that damn model was still sitting on the table, mocking him. He restrained himself from incinerating it, like his first instinct told him to.

Neither of them knew why he hadn't been called back yet. However, Lydia was prepared. Tucked into every corner, his name was written, all over the walls and floor in the attic and basement. Naturally after doing so, Lydia realized she had to hide it from the mortals, and sent a spark of her purple energy around the room, rendering the name invisible to the living.

Remembering back a long time ago, she snapped some catchy reggae tune onto the radio, and dragged Beetlejuice into the air with her, spinning merrily. Just like the first time, she had the furniture performing a congo line. Beetlejuice laughed, his eyes sparkling.

The Allens appeared in the doorway, faces pale. Lydia shrugged, in the middle of performing mid-air ball-room dancing. She was sure they wouldn't mind too much, and even if they did, they could get over it. It was still her house after all.

Within the next thirty minutes, Mr. and Mrs. Allen had joined the congo line, giggling wildly.

Beetlejuice was having the time of his life. More of his memories, buried from trauma, were resurfacing every day, including a rather uncomfortable memory involving Lydia's underwear that still made him blush thinking about it. It also made him want to turn her around just to see if her ass looked as nice as he remembered. However, Lydia would then slap him, and the fun would end, so he kept his hands to himself for the time being.

But the point was, he was recovering from the trauma dealt him, he was spending time with the only woman, he freely admitted (to himself only--and quietly, even then), that he had ever loved, and he was doing the chicken dance up in the air with her while the furniture danced in time. What more could one want?

--

It was three days later when they finally determined (to their confusion) that the council was not going to call him back anytime soon. Beetlejuice was suspicious, and not inclined to believe it, but he couldn't deny that there was no reason for them to wait and see how much mischief he could cause.

They were well aware that they were living on borrowed time. Sooner or later, the council was going to drag him back and have him exorcised. Lydia's only plan was to call him back as soon as he left. It was an easily circumventable plan, unfortunately. There would be no recalling him in the middle of an exorcism. Calling too late seemed all too possible.

So Beetlejuice came up with a plan that was completely insane. Ridiculous. Didn't have a chance.

They started working out the details anyways.

"Here's what we do!" Beetlejuice told her, eyes gleaming. "They got my paperwork, right? So that means they can call me back 'cause of my name, they can trace me, they can do a lot just because of stupid papers. So we sneak in, bust Juno's office, burn the goddamn files, and I'm free as a bird, right?"

Lydia stared at him for a moment, eyes wide. Then she exploded, "That's NUTS! What are you thinking?! You don't want to get exorcised, so you waltz back into the laps of the people who are gonna do it?! What is WRONG with you?!"

Beetlejuice crinkled his forehead at her. "Babe, I think we've been dancing together too much. Everything you say nowadays has comparisons to dancing."

"I'm serious!" she cried.

"So'm I!"

"No you're not!"

"Sure I am."

After a few more minutes, Lydia gave in and went along with the plan, just because she knew even if she didn't approve it, Beetlejuice would just go anyways, and without any foolproofing to his non-existant plan. It would be safer if she went with him.

Safer for him at least. What about her? What about her safety?!

After hours of brainstorming, Lydia gave up. It was obviously destined to remain a simple plan, for while Lydia could plan for getting into the Netherworld and Juno's office; getting the papers, and getting back out were both too sketchy to plan out.

Then came the procrastinating. While rather dangerous, the thought of sitting at home doing nothing was infinitely more comforting than the thought of breaking into offices and burning valuable documents.

However, Beetlejuice would not be deterred, and after three days of nerves and shattering mirrors (The Allens didn't know what to think) he managed to drag her back up to the attic.

Sighing, Lydia picked up the chalk and, muttering to herself, drew the door on the side of the wall, and then stepped back.

Nothing happened.

Lydia cleared her throat. Beetlejuice scuffed his shoes on the floor.

Still, nothing happened.

"Look Lyds, I know its been a while, but I'm pretty sure that something was supposed to happen just there," Beetlejuice informed her.

Lydia stared at the wall for a moment, then threw up her hands and said, "Oh well! I guess we're not going anywhere."

"Maybe the chalk is too old," Beetlejuice mused. He snapped his fingers, a new piece appearing in his hand, and drew over the old lines.

"Come on, let's go!" Lydia cried, laughing nervously.

"Hey, I got it!" he cried, excited. Indeed, the house finally lowered its internal defenses and allowed them out, although its external defenses remained solid. But neither of them knew that. Beetlejuice was pretty certain it had been the chalk.

Exhaling shakily, Lydia followed

--