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?

----------------

Ermmmmm...... I actually got the idea of her swim making her sick from a comment... You DO influence me, you know. :) That being said... I never would have figured out that a swim in frost inducing weather would make someone sick... So, yeah. Thanks. This should be interesting.

----------------

In a way, she really did have every reason to expect to find him in bed with her again, when she woke up… But either Beetlejuice was demonstrating remarkable control over his usual pervertedness, or else he was just busy exercising it over someone else. She suspected the latter, and for a brief moment, no matter how little sense it made, it pissed her off. So what, he flirted with her like she was just the hottest new thing, then turned right back to whoever he'd been screwing before, the minute her back was turned?

This irrational frustration was only compounded by a further annoyance as, shortly after sitting up, and trying to yawn, she realized that her nose no longer seemed to work anymore. This, in turn, was followed by a surprisingly painful sneeze. "Shit!" She scowled, rubbing her forehead, which suddenly felt thick with quick drying cement. She'd gotten sick? But shenever got sick!

Lydia closed her eyes briefly, focusing on calming the spot between her eyebrows. It felt kinda like someone had hit her in the frigging head… A gurgling, nonsensical sound emerged from her throat, and she pushed herself to her feet wearily, unwilling to just lie in bed all day, even if she did feel crummy. She wondered briefly whether or not Beetlejuice knew any tricks for curing a cold…

Then, pausing even as this thought occurred to her, she lifted her hand with a frown, and considered the ring she was wearing. Well hell, she couldn't go downstairs with that on her finger, could she? With a wiggle and a twist, she popped it off, and set it on her dresser, wondering briefly what she could find to hook it around her neck again.

Well, for a hell of a long time, she'd used a shoestring… No use messing with tradition. A little digging found an old pair of sneakers in the back of her closet, she had to have had them since she was eight, and a little prying with her skilled hands managed to work the slender lace free, despite it not having budged in years. Black and hot pink… Hell, it was just loathsome enough to be cute.

Slipping the ring on her new, improved necklace, she slid it under her nightgown, then paused, considering that in turn with a slightly incredulous air. Why did she even own something like this, anyway? She honestly couldn't remember where she'd gotten it… But chances were, it had been a present from her mother. Olivia had entirely her own ideas of 'appropriate.' Lydia usually preferred her to keep it to herself… But the honest to god truth was, the damn thing looked good on her, whether she wanted to admit it or not.

Turning a little to consider her slender curves in the mirror, she had to suppress a giggle, which in her current state came out a bit like a cough. Rolling her eyes, she decided to really piss Beej off, and proceeded to search out her most shapeless, unsexy pair of baggy gray sweats she could find, pursing her lips a little in amusement about what he'd say, when he saw this. Teach him to make her wear something like that slinky black thing… and of course, teach her to let him pick her out something to wear.

This time, she had the presence of mind to dress in the bathroom, not that they'd ever had any particular deals going about how he couldn't peek in on her in there. Since he was as likely to pop in on any of her family though, maybe… But no, he'd love to catch her mother too, wouldn't he? She wondered briefly whether he ever had, and then wondered a bit at the sour twisting in her stomach at the question. Like she really cared either way…

Suitably un-sex-ified, she returned to her bedroom, still expecting the poltergeist to pop in at any time, and on the same hand, wondering if she'd see him again for days. Leaning into her dresser, she frowned at her reflection in the mirror, then, inspired, began digging through her top drawer, to find a stick of eyeliner. She was feeling creative today… and provided she could manage not to sneeze for long enough, she could certainly try something new.

First she thought about doing some sort of Celtic knot across her right cheek, then changed her mind abruptly, and made the slow graceful swoops of a triquetrous across the pale, delicate bone-work instead. It was kind of Celtic… A smirk played across her lip, as she wondered briefly if the protection symbol was anything more than pretty, then shook her head, amused, and searched for a red stick, to add a few flowing touches of her own.

When she was done, she looked as though she'd recently had half her face tattooed, and, if she did say so herself, done quite well. Even if 'glam goth' wasn't usually her thing. Now if she could just get a hot cup of honey tea, maybe she could shake this stuffiness, and be ready to face the day as a mismatch of glam style, and utter indifference.

Bracing her arms against her dresser again, she considered her reflection. Way too pale of course, mostly because the girl just didn't tan, she looked even more so without proper make-up. At the moment, her hair sticking every which way, dressed in her 'I-don't-care' clothes, she looked positively plain. Other than the tattoo. Her mother could never look that way of course. Her mother was always beautiful.

She paused for a moment as she belatedly saw one of her photo albums on the desk beside her, frowning as she wondered who was more likely to have been snooping through her things, her parents, or her poltergeist. She flipped through a few pages, absently. This album was one of her older ones… Still, not bad. But she'd gotten much better with her technique since… Oh god, these are pictures of the neitherworld… Please tell me my parents weren't looking at them…

"Sugar?" The unexpected intrusion had her yanking the album closed, only to realize, with something of a sense of relief, that it was just Ginger, addressing her from her mirror. The pink spider's large mouth was drawn up in a bow of worry, her dark eyes positively limpid. She really was quite beautiful, Lydia reflected… "Are you all right, hon? I just heard the news!"

News? Lydia's mind was spinning, could she mean last night? How the hell did the neitherworld keep up on what she was doing so well? She wasn't still being followed by those damn shutterbugs, was she? She thought with the prince out of the picture… "Ginger, please tell me what you mean, before I go worst case scenario?" She begged with a weak smile.

Ginger looked surprised. "You and the prince, sugar!" She exclaimed, clearly not seeing how Lydia could have not known what she was talking about. "I mean, how could he break up with you like that?"

Him? Break up with her? This was the first she'd heard of this version… But she suspected the royal family had something to do with that. Couldn't let it be known that someone they didn't approve of their son dating in the first place, had then dumped him… "I think it was just time we both moved on." She murmured uncomfortably, hoping the other girl would change the subject.

"Oh, but Lydia, you two were just the perfect couple!" Ginger protested, with a much regretful sigh. "Everyone said so!"

Lydia's lips twisted a little in pained amusement. "You mean everyone that wasn't accusing me of robbing the grave?" She noted dryly, well aware that their relationship had, in fact, been a matter of much contention. "Or him of being a biophiliac?"

"Well, yeah…" Ginger faltered, turning pinker than usual. Obviously she hadn't known that the girl was privy to that kind of talk. "But most people thought it was real romantic, the two of you being in love, despite the whole, you being still alive thing!"

Despite the whole, her being still alive thing. Not the whole, him being dead thing. She wondered if her parents would have felt the same way. "Romantic," She echoed softly, "Ging, he's the most romantic guy in the neitherworld, no question. But he was constantly taking flak from being around me, even if he never admitted it. I mean, I'm best friends with Beetlejuice, for shit's sake. People said I was corrupting the royal line… All that crap."

Ginger just stared at her, her large eyes even wider than usual. "Sugar," She whispered at last, softly, "Did you break up with him? 'Cause you thought you were causing him trouble? Because you know, he never gave a darn either way about all that…"

Hard to believe, but Lydia could believe it. "No," She denied, settling on this half truth, "I'm not that self sacrificing." A smile twisted her lips. "Can we talk about something else for a while, Ging? This whole break-up's still kind of raw… and I had a really long night."

A long pause, and then Ginger forced a smile, about as fake as something Claire Brewster would have once managed to summon. "Sure thing, hon…"

It was a moment before she thought of anything else to say though… But then abruptly she hit on it. "Oh, I almost forgot to tell you! The monster across the street got those hulla-baloo-folksy tickets he's been on so bad about… But since he was only able to get the two for him and Poopsie, he's throwing a party for all his friends that can't come!" She grinned, much more genuinely, adding, "He'd tell you himself, but he's real shy about maybe peeking in on you in your skivvies, so he asked me to, instead."

Despite herself, just the idea cheered Lydia up a little. "A party?" She echoed, sounding much more like her devilish self. "With weird neitherworld goodies, god-awful country music, and awkward dancing?" Ginger just giggled at her description. "Damn, that sounds awesome… Um, you guys can't catch colds, right?"

The pink spider tilted her head, looking at her oddly for a moment, before her face lit up with understanding. "Oh… I was wondering why you sounded funny, doll." Her brow was squished up a little with sympathy. "Naw, 'bout one of the only good things about being dead, is that you can't get sick. How'd you get a cold, anyway? Is it real bad?"

"Mostly just a little stuffy." She denied, stubbornly ignoring the tickle at the back of her throat. "Look, Ging, is that invitation just for me? I mean… Is Beej gonna be able-?"

"Lydia?" Her door swung open without warning, and with a yelp, Lydia reached through the mirror, and pushed her friend forcibly out of sight, before yanking her own hands free. She plastered a shit eating smile to her face as Barbara came the rest of the way into her room, paused, and looked around in puzzlement. "Were you talking to someone?"

"Just trying out my voice." Lydia lied easily, exaggerating her stuffiness as she spoke. "Woke up with kind of a cold…"

She expected a look of sympathy to cross the ghost woman's face, but instead Barbara's mouth just sort of pressed out into a thin line, and she regarded the girl with the same sort of look she'd used to give her, back when she was still getting into fights on a regular basis. "I'll make you some honey tea while you come downstairs," She murmured at last, just a little tensely, "There's something we need to talk about."

Well, that never boded well… "Yes, Barb." Lydia agreed, puzzled, but resigned to being punished for something, even if she didn't know what. If she was being so calm about it though, chances were she hadn't found out about Beetlejuice… That was a talk she could certainly wait as long as possible to have. "Just give me a minute, okay? I'll meet you in the living room."

For a moment, she thought Barb was going to press it, but then the woman just nodded, a little tersely, and said something about putting tea on. Lydia waited until she was gone, then pretty much dove for the mirror, putting her head clean through to look for Ginger.

The pretty blush-colored girl was hiding, along with a familiar good-natured skeleton, under her vanity. "'Allo, Miss Lydia!" Jacques greeted her amiably, his face split into its usual skeleton grin. "What are we 'iding from?"

Embarrassed, Lydia shook her head, drawing back to her side of the mirror, as Ginger drew Jacques out of their hiding place. "You know my family can't find out about me visiting the neitherworld…" She began, a little awkwardly, "But… sorry about that." She gave them a little smile, then added, with mild amusement, "Better go see what I did wrong this time. I'll get back to you about that party, all right?" As an afterthought, she added, "Nice to see you, Jacques!"

"And as always, nice to see you, Miss Lydia!" The body builder agreed, looking rather amused over the whole thing.

Lydia only took time to stash her photos in one of the desk drawers, checked to make certain her ring was hidden, second nature after all this time, then wondered if she could put off going down, long enough to blow her nose. Better just grab some tissues…

Adam and Barbara were waiting in the living room, equally grim faced. She wondered again what she'd done, and why her living parents weren't there to be part of her undoubtedly forthcoming lecture. "Um, okay…" She said slowly, making a mental note not to apologize for anything they didn't accuse her of, first. "So, what's with the disapproving looks? I know I got back on time last night… I was only gone an hour."

This seemed to catch Barbara at least, off guard for a moment. "Well, I didn't hear you come in, I guess that explains it. I wouldn't have expected you so soon…" She had, as far as she knew, no reason to doubt the girl. That was the one thing that bothered Lydia about lying to her parents all this time… The fact that they still trusted her. But it did have its uses.

Briefly distracted from whatever he was about to scold her over, Adam mused, "I should have known something was wrong when he didn't come in. If Edmond were here, he would have gone out after him, just honking the horn like that. It really isn't like Vincent to be so-"

"Um… It wasn't Vincent." Both ghosts fell silent at this, staring at her, for the moment at least, without understanding. "See, we broke up about a week ago. That was some other guy, and… Well, he turned out to be an ass, so I came home early."

The look on Barbara's face, as she gradually accepted what Lydia was saying as true, was devastated. Bad enough seeing that look on Vincent's face, she hadn't expected that from her foster mother too… "But the two of you were such a wonderful couple!" She protested, from the tone of her voice, taking this far too personally.

"I don't understand," Adam agreed, with a far more rational tone, but the same sort of utter disappointment in his features, "I know the two of you didn't get much time together," Yet another lie she was guilty of, "But you've been exchanging letters since you were twelve… And you spent every Halloween together! Even if he did always wear the same costume…" He shook his head. "You always seemed so happy together."

There was of course, no explaining the long list of reasons why the two of them weren't the perfect couple her foster parents seemed to think they were, but for now Lydia settled for this. "Some things change… and some don't. I guess maybe we were too different, and couldn't avoid it anymore." She shook her head, really wishing they'd change the subject. "Anyway, I don't really want to talk about it. It's still kind of new, you know? Besides," And here was a risky gambit, "Wasn't there something you wanted to talk to me about?"

That quickly of course, both remembered just how annoyed with her they were, but at the same time, it was clear that they just didn't want to drop the subject so quickly. Of course she knew that it was most likely for entirely selfish reasons… They loved that Vincent could see them, albeit without knowing why, and probably secretly harbored some hope that the relationship would lead to something permanent. That they could all be a family… again. Like with her dad.

After a moment, Barbara started to say something, only to be interrupted by a high-pitched whistle from the kitchen. She pressed her lips into an unhappy line, glanced at Adam, and excused herself to get Lydia's tea.

The only thing worse than being confronted with both her disapproving foster parents, Lydia quickly decided, was being alone with Adam, as he waited for his wife to return, so they could ream her out together. The look of personal disappointment and betrayal in his features, as he gazed over the rims of his glasses at her, lips set into a frown that just didn't belong on his good natured mouth… He was taking whatever she'd done wrong, very close to heart.

And she didn't even know what the fuck it was.

"Here you are, Lydia." Barbara swept back into the room, albeit without her usual glowing warm presence, looking if anything, suddenly reluctant to broach the subject she'd been called down there for.

Lydia accepted her drink with a quiet 'thank you,' and did her best to breathe the sweet-smelling stuff in through her nose. For all the good that did. A sip of it though, did calm that irritating scratching at the back of her throat. She took several drinks, then decided to face this head on, lowering the cup, and admitting flatly, "Okay, I really have no clue what you two are mad about. Can you just tell me what I'm supposed to have done wrong?"

Adam was the one to take a deep breath, albeit one he didn't really need, square his shoulders, and inform her as bluntly as possible, "Lydia? We know you're smoking."

Smoking? Her eyebrow flew up, a little surprised, as well as amused, that this wasn't a conversation they'd had years before now. Damn Beetlejuice and those nasty things he loved… Aloud though, she just made a little sound of having absorbed this, then easily, because it wasn't a lie, countering with, "No, I don't."

This was clearly the last response either of them expected… Having confronted her with it, she was simply supposed to admit it, then apologize, accept her punishment, and swear never to do it again. Did they know her at all? "Lydia," Barbara's voice was tight, "We smelled the smoke in your room."

Again, Lydia made a soft sound, of having absorbed this. "So… You smelled smoke in my room. While I wasn't there. And that means I'm smoking?" Neither one of them had a ready answer to this. "I mean, I know the smell hangs around a while, there's kids at school even I can tell smoke… But guys, I really don't. You wanna search me? Search my room?" She gave a minute for this to sink in. "Should be easy having ghost powers… I mean, you're always finding my dad's keys for him, right? Same deal."

Of course, at least a considerable amount of this 'reasoning' was a bluff. If they ever got it into their heads to search her room, god only knew what they'd find. There had to be a million little post-it's in every drawer that screamed, 'Hello, I hang out with Beetlejuice…'

But she didn't expect them to call her bluff, at least partially because she knew she was a damn good liar… Which would bother her to no end later, but at the moment, just kind of worked for her. But she supposed she had learned from the best…

Adam frowned, held out his hand, and snapped his fingers. Of course, the two of them had so little experience actually using their meager ghostly powers, that it was a toss-up of whether it would have worked either way. But Lydia just smiled a little, confident that they'd find nothing, because… Well, because there was nothing to find. Beetlejuice's cigarettes were no more corporeal than he was. But the bottom line was, nothing appeared in his hand.

"Wanna try for incense now?" Lydia prompted softly, going out of her way to look like she really wasn't annoyed with them for their unwarranted suspicions… That she even found it touching that they worried about her like this. She held up her hand, and started flicking off names. "I've got white sage, sandalwood, dragons-blood… Purifying stuff. Probably one of those." She lifted an eyebrow again, adding, "I think I even have…"

"That was not incense, young lady." Adam denied grimly.

She let him have his say, then smiled, ad innocently, went on, saying, "I think I even have wild tobacco. It's the green ones. Good for cleansing spaces."

Her foster parents looked abruptly dumbfounded, and then Adam flicked his fingers again, and this time the slender olive green sticks appeared in his hand, the dust crumbling off them onto his fingers. Again, he looked at a loss for words, but for now, he did smell them. Lydia couldn't quite keep the look of amusement off her face.

"I've been burning them for years," She noted aloud, lacing her fingers behind her head, and trying not to look too amused, "The smell doesn't last long, and they're no worse for you than any other incense. I promise." The look of dawning relief on Adam's face was priceless, but it did leave her with a twinge of guilt in her gut. She'd had those damn things in her drawer for years… She was starting to think she'd never get any use out of them. "So… Does that mean I'm not in trouble?"

"I think so." Like Adam, Barbara looked nothing so much as profoundly relieved, and gave her a grateful little smile, even looking embarrassed. "I should have known you'd never get caught up in something stupid like that… We just had to be sure, Lydia."

"Right. I know the drill. Someday I'll have kids that'll drive me as crazy as I drive you." She took the opportunity to pull the tissues out of her pocket, her intentions twofold… One, to clear her sinuses, which now seemed capable of moving the gunk in them, after her hot tea, and two, to change the subject as quickly as possible.

Of course, it worked. "Oh honey, how did you get sick?" Barbara gushed, abruptly in mothering mode again, sweeping her up in her cool, pleasant smelling arms. "You never get sick… I just know it's because you leave your window open all the time! Why do you do that?"

"No common sense?" Lydia mused dryly, rather enjoying the feeling of being in her foster mother's arms. "I mean, I really don't have any…"

Barbara sighed, muttering agreement under her breath. "I'll call your mom at work, have her pick you up some cold medicine. I doubt we have any in the house." A small pause, then, with a glance at Adam, "You think we can do that?" As if it had simply never occurred to either one of them to try to use the phone before.

"Probably not." He sighed, not looking too upset over this. "It's probably just a cold, all she needs are fluids and rest. By the way," He looked at her again, peering over his glasses in that way he had, this time with his mouth drawn up warmly, the way it was supposed to be, "We saw those photos you left out on your desk. You're really good, Lydia… Maybe even better than your mother."

"Of course, Olivia doesn't use computers for her photography…" Barbara amended, even as Lydia's heart briefly went into panic mode. Instead she was left looking at the ghost woman with surprise, then slowly, relief. She thought they were photo-shopped? Oh, thank god…

"Um, yeah…" Lydia was about to say more, when a massive shiver wracked her body, actually unplanned. It shocked her into monetary silence, and then the next thing she knew, she was gripped in a horrible sneezing fit. Damn, damn, damn… She did not want to be sick!

Her parents looked appropriately alarmed, and the next thing she knew, her godmother was ushering her back up the stairs, muttering below her breath about chicken soup, and mint compresses, and more honey tea… Lydia just sighed, surrendering to her ministrations, and found herself soon tucked securely under her covers, much as she had been when she was a little girl.

"Do I get a story too?" She asked dryly, the effect somewhat spoiled by her stuffy voice.

"You'll be better by tomorrow." Barbara informed her, rather severely. "I haven't met the cold I can't beat in twenty-four hours. So don't think you'll be getting out of school, because of a little stuffy head…"

"No, ma'am." Lydia agreed, grimacing, in order not to smile. She'd be waited on hand and foot for the rest of the day now… Well, maybe being sick had its perks after all. It had been a long time since she'd been through a good pampering. And being spoiled by Barb was just about the best thing she could think of…

"Well." Straightening, after adjusting her 'tuck' for the seventh time, she ran her hands down the front of her dress, managed a little smile after the already emotionally exhausting day she'd had, and noted softly, "You just stay here, I'll have your breakfast up in no time. Just some of that canned stuff for now, but for dinner, the real thing. From scratch."

"Thanks, Barb." Lydia murmured, deciding a day in bed wasn't all bad… So long as someone didn't get it in his head to act like a complete asshole while she was sick. No guarantee of that though… But she was going to rip into him properly for almost getting her into trouble. And I even have an excuse to be in a bad mood too, she thought with a little twist of her lips. This was gonna be fun.

She stretched out in her clean, soft bed, and burrowed her arms up under her pillow, stretching into the cool, comfortable sheets. First she'd take care of today, then she could worry about tomorrow. Just as it seemed like things might be going back to 'normal' again though, a sudden, soft interruption, drew her eyes sharply across her room, to the large vanity mirror. "Miss Lydia?"

Oh. God. Her heart sank. Vincent…

--------------------------------