Beetlejuice doesn't belong to me. If you want to split hairs, I don't know exactly who he belongs to… Tim Burton, The Geffen Film Company, whoever wrote the myriad of scripts… (Probably not that last.) It's all legal techno-babble to me, and I don't know much about that stuff. I do know enough not to claim he's mine, or try to make money off him, or I'm screwed. Which sucks. I mean, who wouldn't want to make a living doing what they love? But I guess I should just be grateful I can do it at all… Where would I be, if I couldn't? …Probably doing it anyway, but if anyone asks, I'll deny it. You'll vouch for me, right?

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I finally got this up... So put down those sticks! I did it, see? Right here! Heh...

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Suddenly surrounded by darkness, it took even his eyes a moment to adjust from the sudden lack of light… He squinted at his surroundings, looking for the girl who'd just called him, only to see nothing. Unease rose in his gut like some sour meal gone wrong, and he started to move forward, wondering if he could have missed his mark somehow…

"Beej…" It was a whisper, a breath, and he spun to see her leaning against a tree, curled into a tight ball, soaking wet and covered in mud. She looked half frozen… And most shocking of all, something his mind couldn't immediately wrap around, she was crying. Every hair on his body rose on end, seeing that. Lyds didn't cry. In the entire time he'd known her, no matter what kind of trouble they'd gotten into together, sandworms or neitherworld gangsters, she'd never cried.

"Babes?" He was on his knees beside her, putting his arms around her in an instinct to comfort he wouldn't have believed he possessed, only to find her so cold against him, colder by far than his own body. And his own body be damned, he couldn't warm her up. For the moment, he pushed that aside. "What the hell happened to you?" He rasped, his voice all gravel with worry.

"I lost my ring." It was a nonsensical murmur, and he regarded her a bit like she might be mad, but she said it again, this time close to a cry, grabbing onto him with both hands. "He threw it in the damn lake! I couldn't find it! I looked and looked… And it was so cold…"

Okay, true the girl wasn't making a lot of sense, but he thought he was getting the gist of it. The little punk, who would henceforth be known as 'dead meat,' when Beetlejuice got his hands on him, had taken the ring he'd given her, and thrown it… Well, into that lake just behind him.

He didn't know what they were doing there in the first place, but one thing he did know… Lyds always kept her ring under her shirt around anyone but him, in order to keep their secret. That meant that his hands had been under her shirt as well… And from the look of Lyds at the moment, it wasn't because she'd invited him to feel her up, or anything. The little punk had been forcing himself on her, and…

"Why the hell didn't you call me?" He muttered, almost as annoyed with the girl, as he was seriously pissed off at her date. "What, suddenly you're too good to call me to save your ass?" He slid his arms under her, and lifted her against his body, cradling her slight form against his chest. "Come on, let's get you home…"

"My ring…" She whispered, making him twist his lips in grim humor. Yeah. That thing. Like it was just such important shit, that she should have gotten herself froze half to death over it.

He moved one hand free a little, twisted his fingers, and summoned the slender slip of gold out of the deep mud at the bottom of the lake. There was no way she would have found it there, if she'd searched until it killed her… He dropped it against her chest, told her in a hoarse voice to hold on, and pulled her between space, that same sort of place he'd drawn her through to take her to the neitherworld the first time.

She was oddly silent as they moved through the nothingness, again, as back then, not turning her face in, but looking out boldly into the darkness of shifting energies. It didn't sound like she was crying anymore, but he wasn't sure. She was though, oddly limp against him, as if she simply had no strength left to draw away.

Then they were standing in her room, and she gave one hard shiver against him, finally turning her face into his coat. "I forgot how beautiful that was." She whispered, her voice quiet as anything. "Can we do it again sometime?"

"Sure babes, whatever." He muttered, ready to drop her into bed, and bury her in blankets.

"Beej," Her soft voice stopped him, "I'm too cold. I don't think I can warm up by myself. I need a hot shower." He regarded her from the corner of his eye, wondering if this was the right time for an inappropriate comment.

Well hell, maybe it would make her smile. "Mind if I watch, babes?" He leered toothily, giving her a little squeeze… And faltering at just how cold she really was. He'd felt corpses that were warmer…

A small pause, as she didn't immediately throw off his suggestion, like he'd expected. Then, quietly, "I don't think I can stand up, Beej." Which immediately blew any perverted thoughts of his out the window. Damn, the girl was that bad off? Why the hell hadn't she called him sooner?

"Yeah, sure." He agreed grimly, popping between space again, this time far more briefly, and emerging into the bathroom. He didn't want them getting seen together… The girl had been through enough for one night. He bent down, setting her gingerly into the bottom of the tub, clothes and all, and turned the shower on, sending a burst of steam into the still air.

Lydia yelped, drawing back with a strangled little sound. "Too hot!"

"Sorry, sorry!" He muttered, and spun it down until it was just above lukewarm, then sat on the edge of the tub slowly, watching as she gradually unfolded, like some kind of frozen flower, and tipped her face up to meet the spray. For a moment, she seemed to forget he was there… But her hand was, he saw, still grasped firmly into a fist, where she held his ring. Like she just wasn't letting that go again.

He wondered what the hell to think of that… It was just a ring. Why had she gotten so upset over the thing? It wasn't even supposed to be hers, it was supposed to be her mom's… Why did she give a damn either way about it? Much less enough to cry?

After a minute, she started tugging at her shirt with her fingertips, which he was pleased to notice, was more than a little translucent, what with water running down it and everything. He gave a low whistle of appreciation, only to make Lydia look at him sharply, and surprisingly, smile. "Damn it, Beej… Will you try not to be a pervert for two minutes?" She grumbled, throwing a half empty bottle of shampoo at him.

He was glad she wasn't scarred or anything… He caught the bottle, tipped it upside her head, and the room was filled with the smell of jasmine and wild clover. Not her usual scent at all. She made a sound of surprise, and covered her eyes, to keep the soap from getting into them, making yet another sound of shock as he burrowed his grimy fingers into her ebony locks, pulling the pins and ties from them, and proceeded to scrub her hair to a foam.

Giggling now, Lydia put up no further protests, tipping her head back, and letting him have his way with the inky strands. It was pretty impressive, since she hated anyone touching her hair… Not that he'd ever tried. "Gotta get them wet clothes off, babes." He noted with a smirk, enjoying the sight of her covered in bubbles and wet garments, and not above a little teasing. "Need some help?"

"Go get me something dry to put on, Beej." She smirked right back, peeking at him from under her wet mass of hair. "I think I can get undressed myself."

"Hell, can I at least watch?" She gave him a push, working her way unsteadily to her feet, and batted her eyes at him in a sexy way, undoing the first button of her blouse, and then pointedly turning her back on him, and waiting for him to leave. He groaned, damn, she was going to tease the hell out of him at every turn now… "You really trust me to pick out something for you to wear?" He demanded in a new tactic, arching one brow.

"I happen to like your taste in clothes." Lydia countered, baffling him. "Even if I've never seen you wear anything but the same two grungy outfits… Now go get me something warm. And no peeking!"

"Fuck!" He grumbled, leaving her there to ghost through the walls separating the bathroom from her bedroom. But he was hurrying, because well, if he just happened to see something on his way back in… It didn't take long to go through her drawers, and find what he was looking for, largely because it had come to attention when he'd thrown the tantrum earlier.

Tucked neatly in her underwear drawer, which left his mind spinning as he saw all the lacy red and black things, (who was she saving those for anyway?) he pulled out the slinky black thing that, so far, he'd never seen her have occasion to wear. Then he took the shortcut back to the bathroom, hoping her nearly numbed fingers were still having trouble with her buttons.

No such luck. The sight of her hot, damp, and barely covered by a towel though, made a small, strangled sound emerge from his throat, as he stood there dumbly, holding out the slender satin gown. Lydia took one look at it, grimaced, and reached out to accept it, only to have him yank it away again at the last minute, a grin twisting his lips. "Oh hell no, babes…"

Suddenly all her patience seemed to leave her in a rush, her good humor gone, and she scowled at him, snapping, "Beetlejuice!" He frowned, suspecting she was serious, if only because she so rarely used his full name without being asked. A little annoyed, he surrendered the black thing, and pointedly turned his back… Though he could see just a corner of the mirror from where he was standing. If he tilted his head just right… "Beetlejuice!"

Grunting, he sat down in midair, put his feet up, and lidded his eyes, willing to accept defeat, for now. He decided to change the subject. "Why'd you get all bent out of shape over that damn ring, anyway?" He muttered. "Sure as hell ain't worth you freezing your ass off!"

A long pause, as he listened to her dress, playing out the motions in his mind, and then softly, "It's important to me, Beej. You gave it to me."

"It's just a ring, babes…" He pointed out, deciding she'd had long enough, and turning his gaze back to her. His gut lurched a little at the sight of her, now very obviously not twelve year old frame, in the sweep, clingy material, and his new focus of attention was several inches below her eyes, but he continued on his current train of thought like he hadn't even been distracted. "I mean, I got other ones… It's not like it can't be replaced. I can grift anything I set my mind to… Maybe get you one with something sparkly in it, even."

"I like this one." She insisted, opening her palm now, and considering the slender slip of gold, now with nothing to hang from. Before he could protest again, she lifted her eyes to look at him, smile as he didn't really notice, and note softly, "Beej, if it weren't for this ring, you and I would never have been friends. None of the great stuff that's happened in the last few years, would have. Why the hell would I want to give it up?"

This had the effect of actually making him meet her gaze again, surprised, then frowning at little at the soft warmth there. He pretended not to understand, even though quite suddenly, he thought he did. Because his name was on the inside of the ring, she'd called him for the first time. Everything that had happened since, his albeit limited freedom, the kicks they'd had together… All because she'd been snooping in her mom's old stuff.

Beetlejuice crossed his legs, considering her at length. Finally she sighed, deciding, quite mistakenly, that he just didn't get it, and with nowhere else to put the band, slid it with a little smile onto her finger. It fit perfectly. And it surprised him, how it made him stomach flip, seeing his ring there, on her pale and slender finger. Not the right finger, but…

His words to Olivia so long ago, uttered in a taunt, came drifting back to him. Real cute kid… All pale and dark, just like you were. Wonder if she'd be willing to pay your little debt? I could get used to hanging around with someone all morbid and brooding like her… Funny, how stuff like that kept seeming to come back to bite him in the ass.

Lydia lifted her hand, admired the sheen of the slender band in the light, and smiled, casting a far calmer glance back at him. "You know what?" She said softly, "I'm suddenly pretty tired… I think I'm gonna get some sleep." She waited, here, for him to make some crude comment, like it was a game they'd just always played, but he just smiled grimly, nodded, and when she looked puzzled, followed her into her bedroom without another word.

"I hope you're not getting any ideas, Beej…" She teased him at length, drawing the black sheets back, and sliding those long pale legs up under them in a way that drew his gaze, his presently preoccupied thoughts be damned.

"Wouldn't dream of it, Lyds." He smirked, not noticing as she faltered a little, not expecting the easy dismissal. "Kinda got something I gotta take care of anyway… Why don't you get some rest? I'll see you tomorrow."

"Right…" Lydia looked dubious, like she still expected him to pull something, but after only a moment, plastered a smile over that, so quickly that the distracted poltergeist didn't even notice. "See you in the morning, Beej." He nodded, a bit absently, the spark of fire that had formed in his gut at finding her like that, already returning. If anything, stronger than before.

The ring meant something to her, damn it. That asshole had forced himself on her, felt her up, took his ring from her, and tossed it aside like it didn't mean shit. All because he knew it did. And it didn't really matter, all the details of why it meant a damn to her… But knowing why, just made him want to hurt the guy more. Pity he didn't know where to find him…

But of course, that kind of thing had never stopped Beetlejuice before…

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'Bout fucking time… Beetlejuice scowled at the brown sedan he'd been over half of Winter River to find, pretty sure he had the right one. Mostly sure. Sure e'fucking-nuff. He ran his fingertips over the hood, tsking at the sorry shape the guy had left it in. Thing looked like it hadn't been washed in years. Scratched all up. Pretty much kicked around as much as a car could be… Almost as much as a car could be.

Beetlejuice gave it a sound 'slap,' charging his juice through the torn up automobile, with sufficient force that… Well, the car exploded. More or less. The doors flew open, off actually, the hood flew up, a loud sound, as well as flames, came from the engine, while the horn proceeded to go completely fucking four alarm, and as an additional little treat, there seemed to be a car alarm that began to scream in several different languages to step away from it.

The front door to the house flew open, and a tall skinny kid with a crew-cut came running out, eyes wide and jaw slack. He didn't seem to notice the poltergeist yet, possibly because Beetlejuice was still invisible, standing behind the kid cracking his knuckles. But the kid didn't act right, for someone whose car just got blown up. He calmed quickly, then just stood there with a little twist of his lips, kicked one tire, which promptly went flat, and shrugged, stepping back to watch it burn.

This kind of pissed off Beetlejuice, if only because he'd intended it to have more of an impact than this. If someone had trashed his car, he'd have been all over them in a second… Presuming he had a car, that was. This guy, he seemed to enjoy watching the flames lick over the hood, mouth set in an amused little grimace. He sort of looked both ways, said something about how he should try to put his dad's car out, then just sort of shoved his hands in his pockets, eyes gleaming a little feverishly in the firelight.

So much for the indirect approach. Beetlejuice stepped into the visible spectrum, walked right up behind the guy, and waited to be noticed. Fingers twitching, eyes narrowed murderously, just itching to rip the little sicko apart. Damn, Lyds really knew how to pick them… But as a minute gave way to two, then three, said kid still didn't notice he wasn't alone. And finally, Beetlejuice had had about all the waiting he could take.

Without warning, he grabbed the kid from behind, spun him, shoving him forward, and slammed him into the twisted body of the car, about half a foot from the flames licking over its hood. Now, now the guy looked shocked, maybe even scared, but also, overwhelmingly, puzzled. Like he just wasn't sure why he was about to get his ass kicked, and it was kind of bugging him.

For the first time, Beetlejuice suddenly hoped he had the wrong guy, if only because he knew messed up when he saw it, and it made his blood cold to think that this Lyds had been anywhere alone with this prick. "You the one who ditched Lydia Deetz at the lake?" He growled at the kid, who still didn't seem nearly alarmed enough for his taste. "Took that ring of hers from her?"

A slow smile spread across her former date's face. "You?" He snickered, like it was just so fucking funny. "You're the guy she's just so fucking hung up over? Gotta tell you… Even that creepy little bitch could do better than you."

The kid was digging for a reaction, but Beetlejuice was determined not to give it to him, yet. With just an ounce of his strength, he could rupture the kid's goddamn brain right in his skull, like some over-popped kernel… And he was tempted to do just that. Couldn't have anything like that tied back to his Lyds though… Beetlejuice's jaw twitched, as he considered just what exactly to do to this kid.

"So," 'Dead Meat,' continued, like it was no big deal to be pinned down on a burning car by the ghost with the most, "Deetz is your piece of ass, huh? Not surprised she goes for creepy old perverts… Seems like her type. So what, you show up now, beat the shit out of me, and go tell her what a big bad man you are?"

The smirk that slowly formed on Beetlejuice's lips was something that made even the sick little bastard in his grasp falter, the eerie light of the burning sedan reflected in his unnatural gaze, in a way no human's should. "Oh no," He denied softly, "Babes? She's never gonna hear about this. This is between you and me, buddy. But before we go any further with this, I just wanna make one thing clear…"

Without further warning, the poltergeist plowed his fist deeply into the guy's gut, making his eyes go wide as he toppled forward, already almost unconscious from just one punch. But Beetlejuice wasn't done yet. He grabbed the kid by the hair, yanked his head back, and met his eyes, his dead gaze burning with fury. "You hurt Lyds," He informed the other softly, simply, "I hurt you."

A further, harder blow, yanking the guy's head down onto his knee, and the kid folded forward like a soggy paper doll. Beetlejuice considered what to do after this. He could put him in the damn car, and let nature take its course, but if Lydia ever found out about it, she'd never look at him the same way again. Killing didn't mean shit to him when he had a good enough reason, he'd been around a long time, and that was just one of many rules he'd broken when he had to… But he wasn't a murderer. No cold blood shit. And he definitely didn't want her thinking of him that way.

The fact was, much as it pissed him off to admit it, this was pretty much all he could do. The kid was a bastard, a twisted little fuck, and he'd probably be doing the world a favor to off him right now, and make him the neitherworld's problem… The fact that he could put on a pleasant enough face to fool Lydia just made him all the more dangerous, he knew.

But Lydia was all right, and this guy wasn't worth the shit he'd get into with Juno, killing him. He gave him one more, solid kick, this time away from the burning car, and went intangible, shaking his head grimly. Sometimes he wished he was as cold-blooded as all that… Sure as hell would make for a lot fewer problems. But with any luck, the prick would get the idea, and stay the hell away from her now. He might be sick, but he probably wasn't suicidal.

And of course, Beetlejuice was willing to beat the shit out of him as many times as it took, to get the point across… But guys like him generally went for easier prey, in the poltergeist's experience. In other words… He was someone else's problem now.

Beetlejuice adjusted his sleeves, for one wild moment tempted to kick him right back into the range of the sedan, now completely encompassed by orange flames. Then he shrugged, twisted his lips in a grimace, and left the kid there, half hoping the damn car would explode, and take him with it. Again, solve a hell of a lot of problems that way…

In the meantime, he'd go pop in on Lyds, see if she was asleep yet… Maybe push her buttons a little, to see that cute little smile of hers, at him acting the ass. Girl was nuts, he realized now, still friends with a guy like him, all this time later. Just about gotten herself killed more times than he could count, not that he'd ever admit that to her. Tonight? Tonight was shit.

And yet it was tonight that had really scared him. Because death was nothing, he brooded, a little against his will, compared to losing her to someone else…

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Lydia was dreaming… The usual sort of dream, sitting at The Freaky Eye-Scream shop with Beetlejuice, only her usual dish was replaced with one crawling with little squirmy things, and the eyeballs were oozing blood, and still she scooped away at the thing hungrily, thinking it was the best damn thing she'd ever eaten.

Across from her, Beetlejuice was having trouble keeping his eyes in his head, literally. They kept falling into his dish, and getting mixed up with the eyeballs already there. She laughed as he grabbed two randomly, then grinned at her, with one yellow eye, and one blue. It was only about this time that she realized she was sitting there in a wedding dress, a black lacy thing that could have passed for a negligee, except for the veil over her hair, and the bouquet of dead roses in her hands… Where those had come from, she had no idea.

And Beetlejuice's eyes popped out again, as he noted absently that she better hurry and eat, because the preacher wasn't going to wait for them forever… And then he proceeded to drain the last of his treat from the dish, which left him with no eyes at all, as he stood, offered his arm to her with a grin, and with a seductive little rasp, invited, 'Shall we?'

Lydia opened her eyes with an odd sense of surrealness, and was momentarily unsure she wasn't still dreaming, to see said ghost lying next to her in the bed, his chin propped up on his fists, watching her sleep.

Making a strangled sound of indignation, as she realized he was real, she grabbed her pillow and hit him with it, forgetting everything but the rush of blood to her cheeks, as she realized she'd been sleeping in the same bed with him. "I'm gonna kill you!" She squeaked, as he cackled, not only dodging her pillow, but grabbing one of his own, and knocking her lightly over the head with it.

"Kinda late for that, babes." He noted, as she persistently tried to bean him over the head, only to get hit herself, repeatedly. Not that he had practice at this game, or anything…

"I don't care!" She giggled, already forgetting her embarrassment, and just enjoying the, to him, rather pleasant game of wrestling in her bed. "I'm gonna kill you again!" She managed to score a lucky hit, right in his face, and he made a sound of indignation, abandoning his makeshift weapon over using his bare hands.

He grasped her by both wrists, wrestling her back until she was pinned to the mattress, then tilted his head with a cocky little grin, daring her to get away. "You… You fucking bastard!" She snickered, squirming under him in a rather pleasant way. "Let me up right now!"

"Mm… Or you're gonna do what, babes?" He challenged her easily, making her finally still from her struggles, mock glaring at him through narrowed eyes, her lips set into a little pout. "Way I see it, I got you right where I want you…"

"Ugh, you are such a dog." She rolled her eyes, then made a feint to knee him in the groin. He though, knew it was just this, and didn't even move to block her, just narrowing his eyes right back, and lowering his face to within about an inch of hers. Slowly, the amusement faded from her features, as she became aware just how close they were to each other, their bodies almost brushing. If he moved his lips now, he'd be kissing her… and suddenly it didn't really seem like a game anymore.

Maybe it was the change in her expression, she didn't know, but suddenly he rolled off her, adjusting his cufflinks again, as she noticed he did when he pointedly wasn't doing something else. "Better take a rain-check, babes," He murmured under his breath, giving her a sly little grin, "You needing sleep and all… But hell, you keep throwing yourself at me that way, no way I'm gonna be able to keep saying no."

"Beej…" She sat up, a pretty little frown twisting her mouth, but he just cackled, tapped her on the corner of the chin, and stood, leaving her there on the bed alone.

God only knew why he was doing it. Every fiber of his being screamed to jump her cute little ass now, while she was still confused… But some little part of his brain, which he currently didn't want to admit to having, whispered at him, That's Lyds. She deserves better than that. And the girl had had a long night…

He sighed, scratched his chin, and regarded her with a look to his eyes that left little doubt what he was thinking. It was enough to make her flush warm all over, and her thoughts to twist in confusion. This was Beetlejuice. He was her friend. Why the hell was he looking at her like that? She'd never felt so utterly young, and not ready for that kind of look, as she did, seeing it in her best friend's eyes.

Then he was gone, without a word, and she was left alone, her cheeks pink, her heart racing, and utterly, completely confused. She looked down at her hands, down at his ring, on her finger, and wondered what the hell kind of can of worms she'd opened.

Because the truth was, the truth she didn't want to admit for the life of her, that when he looked at her like that… When he'd held her down like that… She'd liked it…

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