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?
----------------
It's making me sad, getting so few reviews. Only two last chapter, though I am certainly grateful for those. :) I wrote this for all of you anyway, instead of waiting, I hope it turned out well. It certainly turned out long. Heh. Happy New Year's Eve. My next post won't be until 2009, I guess. I suppose I could go on now with my insecurities about my writing, but I'm sure this chapter will look better to me in a week or so. Pretty sure. Maybe. Hmm… Maybe I just need some sleep. Heh.
----------------
"God-damn-it-fucking-cats!" Beetlejuice muttered under his breath, pausing to throw a grey and white ball of fur off his lap, much to the amusement of the residents, and the disapproval of the nurses, who thought he shouldn't be humoring the seniors that way. Lydia just giggled, throwing down her hand, and drawing a disapproving look from said poltergeist. "That's really what you been betting on, Lyds? Two pair? Haven't I taught you anything?"
"You taught me that you twist your ring whenever you have a bad hand." She responded easily, winking at a middle-aged lady with a bouffant of blue hair, who'd been shamelessly flirting with the poltergeist all night. "So go on, let's see it, Beej. What's that pile of junk in front of you worth?"
The ghost with the most narrowed his eyes at her, cast a glance at his heavy brass ring, and grunted, throwing down a pair of twos, and a pair of threes. "You're a bitch, you know that, babes?" He muttered, slicking his hand through his wiry hair in annoyance. "That's some of my best shit you just stole from me…"
Lydia just smiled sweetly, sweeping up the odd pile of odds and ends into her hands. "All's fair in love, war, and the junk we find in the bottom of our pockets." She noted airily, already sorting through her winnings to see if there was anything worth keeping. A blue egg shell, keep that, two more pieces of snake-skin, one almost intact, the key from a piano, a key to god knew what, and a gleaming mother-of-pearl button. He might bet junk, but he bet interesting junk.
"You two make the best couple!" An elderly fellow to the side noted, though with the grin he was offering, it was hard to tell if he was serious. "If you're gonna rob the cradle, might as well get a good one, right?"
Beetlejuice gave him a look that, if Lydia read correctly, was debating whether to agree with the man, or send him to sandworm land. "Babes is the best of them," He agreed at last, cracking a rather nasty leer, as he glanced in her direction with amusement, "But if you really want to get specific, she's a lot closer to robbing the grave, than I am to robbing the cradle."
With a sound of indignation, Lydia threw one of her prizes, a twisted brass door latch, at his head, only to have the ghost catch it, and slide it with a sneer back into his pocket, as if that meant she'd given up all rights to keep it. Her annoyance though, was genuine, even if it was all she could do to keep from laughing. "Like I didn't hear enough of that when I was dating Vincent…" She muttered, trying to look scathing, and utterly failing.
"You were too good for old Prince Vince…" Beetlejuice muttered, looking like he was annoyed to even have the other man's name brought up. "Guy thinks just 'cause he's royalty, he can have anything he wants…"
Lydia blinked, then slowly smiled, a glint of mischief in her eye. "Are you jealous, Beej?" She teased, showing a fair amount of tooth with this challenge, only to have him bare all of his in a malicious smile right back. "You are… Need I remind you, you were the one off all the time, chasing anything with a pulse? Or without, for that matter?"
"Babes," A look of feigned indignation crossed his face, "What the hell was I supposed to do, wait 'til you were old enough to jump? Like that wouldn't have been creepy…" He licked his hand, picked the cards back up, and started shuffling again, even though it was almost time for them to go. "One more hand, Lyds?"
"Like creepy ever stopped you…" She muttered, for some reason, suddenly losing her amusement in their little exchange. He gave her an odd little look, lifting one eyebrow. She could almost see him wondering if she was about to go off in some weird hormone-driven teenage tantrum again… Not that he said a word either way. She settled for sticking her tongue out at him, and crossing her arms in annoyance.
A surprisingly soft laugh fell from him. "Now who's jealous, babes?" He cackled gently, making her glance at him in surprise, and go into a slow blush, as she realized that this must be exactly what it looked like…
"You wish." She muttered, as he slid the cards back into his bottomless pockets.
"Nah," He smirked easily, giving her his most confident look, "I can wait." Lydia wished briefly that she had something else to throw at him…
"Well," The blue-haired lady noted, standing with a sort of exaggerated grace, and stretching, "There's something to be said for either one, isn't there? Robbing the cradle, or the grave." She knocked the back of her hand against the head of the gentleman who'd made that comment, her hand passing right through him, as she added, "Just wait until you get on this side, ladies' man. I'll teach you some of the benefits of an experienced lover."
Beetlejuice cackled, waggling his eyebrows at her, while she paused to blow him a kiss, before ghosting through the wall into the east side of the hospital, which always seemed to be undergoing mysterious 'repairs.' By this point, none of the living patients looked at him even remotely strangely, having all decided by this point that they were far more in possession of their abilities than he.
Lydia just smiled, burrowing her fingers through the thick fur of a large marmalade tom, before lifting him in her arms, and setting him gently back on his person's lap. There were cats everywhere. The one 'crazy cat lady,' in particular, had the most… But in truth, there were hundreds of the things filling the nursing home, draping every available lap, every available surface, and casting their subtle chill over everything in sight. Oddly enough though, there were no other pets in sight… Most notably no dogs.
I wonder what happens to them after this? She mused, smoothing her hands slowly along a stiffness that had formed in her lower back. The neitherworld would be buried in their furry little spirits, if they all went there, when their haunting was done… She made a point of asking Beetlejuice about it at some point, but for now, reclaimed her plastic ware of macaroni salad from the mini fridge, and lifted an eyebrow at him questioningly. "So, you coming?"
"Hmm?" The poltergeist, having been deep in suspicious whispering with a rather frail looking thing in a wheelchair, lifted his head, his lips drawn up thoughtfully. "We going somewhere?"
She hefted the plastic-ware with a grin. "Sunday picnic, Beej. Prudence and Bertha are waiting for us. Well, me." She amended, after a brief pause, "But it wouldn't be the first time you've crashed. So what, you coming?"
Shrugging, he concluded whatever business he had with the woman of frail form, and steely eyes, making her smile in a decidedly unpleasant way, before straightening, and adjusting his lapels. "Now I can't say it hasn't been a gas," He greeted them all, in his best car salesman way, positively oozing his particular sort of business charm, "But it looks like babes here had wrangled me an invitation to a luncheon with three broads at once… And they even got pulses! Go figure."
Lydia rolled her eyes as he strolled from the room without a further word, taking more time herself to say goodbye to everyone by name. When she did leave, none too soon from the looks on the nurses' faces, she found him leaning beside the door, already puffing away, like he'd been going through such severe withdraw, not being able to smoke for three hours. She grinned at him, curious. "What was that about?" She demanded, giving him a little shove. "You and Mrs. Parker back there…"
Beetlejuice cackled under his breath, already putting it out. "Like you said babes, just making sure she knows how it works ahead of time. Figure that broad's gonna be the first to go in the place, and if she wants to do a little business… Hell, a guy's gotta have booze money, you know?"
"Hmm. Harmless enough, I guess. Try not to kill everybody though… The place is already bulging at the seams." She shielded her gaze from the sun, which was unseasonably bright.
"They're fun old birds." He agreed, though that hadn't been what she'd been saying at all. "Not like some of the prudes in this town. I gotta tell you, getting laid in 'Frigid River,' is harder than learning sandworm… And I still ain't figured out how to do that!" This said though, and having sighed after it, he paused suddenly, and gave her an odd, thoughtful little look. "Course, 'spose it's all where you look…"
"Yeah… You'd have better luck with Juno." Lydia replied dryly, well aware what he was insinuating, and just taking it in stride.
Beetlejuice's face turned a little green, well, greener than usual, and he made a small, gagging sound. "Fuck Lyds, you actually made me picture it! What the hell? You trying to make me puke? Ugh…" He rubbed his forehead, grimacing. "I need liquor, now!"
"That's the ticket, Beej," Lydia smirked, "Keep drinking until she looks good…"
"There ain't that much whiskey in the world, babes…" He muttered, still looking a trifle sick. "You try picturing it."
She did, completely against her will, and immediately wished she hadn't. "That's it," She muttered, trying to banish the image now burned behind her eyes, "You're not getting any macaroni." At first he just snorted at this…
Then paused, and looked at her with a devious glint to his eye. "You just picturing me in the buff, babes?" He prompted silkily, arching one brow.
Lydia stopped stock-still, her face turning brilliantly red as, again against her will, she did just this. Her mouth opened, searching for something to say, but all that emerged was an extremely intelligent sounding gurgle. Finally her eyes closed, and her head fell forward, her cheeks burning. "I hate you." She muttered under her breath, just making him cackle softly, lay a guiding hand in the small of her back, and press her forward.
At his touch, she just felt warmer, as again her mind turned that way, this time not entirely unwillingly, and her stomach gave a little flip. Damn it, he was probably covered with mold everywhere, and he had that little beer-belly of a stomach, and… Erg, he couldn't possibly be appealing… And why was she thinking about her best friend naked?
She pinched the bridge of her nose, lifted her head, and considered the poltergeist. He looked awful of course. Not that everyone could see him in the detail she could… But his hair was a mess, his eyes were sunken pits, and he was paler than even the dead had a right to be… And he glanced at her, saw her watching him, and looked amused. He winked, and slid his arm further around her waist, until he was holding her possessively against his side, and gave her a little squeeze, which for no reason she could see, made her knees weak.
God, he was strong… She forgot that from time to time. Oh god, oh god, oh god… What the hell was she thinking? For the past two days she'd been on his case like his philandering ways were suddenly something personal to her, and she didn't know why… Now her head was in a spin, her stomach felt sick and fluttery, and she swore she'd swallowed her heart. What the hell was her body doing to her?
She shrugged him off, suddenly angry, and he looked at her in puzzlement, but didn't press it, as if simply used to taking her bizarre mood-swings in stride. Was she really that bad, that he didn't even find it strange? Why did he hang out with her? Why did-?
Oh god, why did she let him kiss her…?
"Lydia!" The goth girl blinked, lifted her head, and was utterly unable to make sense of the form coming at her, cheeks stretched wide in a grin, dark blue eyes filled with humor, waving with as much enthusiasm as she had as a kid. "Cool, you brought Mr. Beetleman!" She came to a short stop before them, paper bag clutched in a death grip in her hand, clothes in disarray. "I haven't seen you in like, forever!"
Beetlejuice was staring at the girl with a bemused expression, as if he couldn't quite place her. In the past couple of years, Bertha had blossomed… No longer gangly, she was elegantly graceful in every movement, and even if she still had big teeth and an awkward grin, she also had thick brown hair that framed delicate features, dazzling blue eyes, and a natural hourglass figure that a lot of girls would have killed for. As for her teeth… They really just made her grin more approachable.
And at the moment, she was grinning at Beetlejuice, who seemed to be musing on the positive effects that time could have on nerdy girls. She didn't remember the last time the two had seen each other… It had to have been at least a year. And a year could change a lot. "You grew up good, kid." He mused, eyes lit with interest that made Lydia want to hit him.
But Bertha just laughed, looked awkward in that way of someone not yet used to receiving compliments, and gestured to the picnic table they frequented once a month or so… All the time Lydia could usually get with her living friends anymore. The last time she'd seen them together, was when they'd stopped by to visit her the week before at her request, really just long enough to talk about…
Oh. Vincent. Great, no question that would be brought up then… Lydia bit her knuckle, gave Beetlejuice a sour look, utterly lost on him as he admired her friend, and resigned herself to a 'fun day,' that she hoped to get over as quickly as possible.
"So," Beetlejuice prompted, before she could dwell on this for too long, "How come I never see you walk Lyds to school anymore? You hanging with a new crowd these days, doll?" Doll. She was certain Beetlejuice had never called the girl 'doll' before.
"Of course!" Bertha laughed, not reading any mean-spiritedness into it. "I'm hanging out with the community college crowd! I graduated last year, Mr. Beetleman… Didn't you notice?"
"Please." Lydia interjected, before he could come up with some smooth answer to this. "He only recently noticed that I'm not twelve anymore." The words were of course, out of her mouth before she remembered just how he'd finally noticed that… And from Beetlejuice's leer, he was remembering too.
Bertha though, didn't seem to notice, just saying, "Well, you do kinda still look like you're twelve, Lydia…" And then freezing, eyes going wide as she heard her own words, and clearly decided they didn't sound nearly as good out loud. "I mean," She hurried on, "You're so small… You're even shorter than Prudence these days… And…"
Lydia was spared any more explanation, as a red muscle car roared up to the park, smoke practically floating up from the tires as it screeched to a standstill. Lydia was just as grateful for the interruption as her friend…
"Whoa," Beej muttered, looking mildly impressed, "That is one badass car!" A pause then, in what was clearly a lie, "Course, it's nothing compared to my wheels, babes…"
"Yeah." She agreed dryly. "That's also the reason I don't let Prudence drive me to school, even though she's offered." Beetlejuice looked from her to the car, dumb-founded, as the driver's door swung open, and a lanky pixie with long red hair popped out, horn-rimmed glasses balanced delicately on her tiny nose, wide lipid eyes gazing out thoughtfully at the world.
"Lydia." Prudence mumbled, still as soft-spoken as ever, whatever her manner behind the wheel. "You brought Mr. Beetleman? But I thought it was just gonna be us girls…" She'd just never been as comfortable around the obnoxious poltergeist as the easy-going Bertha, but at the moment, that was really the least of Lydia's concerns… Because Pru was totally rocking the sexy librarian look, and like with Bertha, Beej had noticed.
It was really about all Lydia could take. "Stare any harder, and she's gonna burst into flames." She growled, turning her back on him, and heading to the table, determined to be the first one to sit down. Then let the lecherous poltergeist decide whether to sit next to her or not… It wasn't like she cared…
When she lifted her head again, Beetlejuice was looking at her now, his lips twisted into an expression of decided amusement. Without waiting for either of the others, he strode over, all nonchalantly, and sat himself next to her, leaving the other side of the table for her old friends… It would have actually been a nice gesture on his part, if he didn't look so damn full of himself for pissing her off. He just couldn't stop grinning…
Suddenly less annoyed with him regardless, she kicked him lightly in the leg, making him cackle, as she dropped her dish on the warped wood. "Okay… Pru, you brought the plates?" She prompted, which made the red-haired girl turn around, still looking uncomfortable, and pull a good sized picnic basket out of the back seat.
"I only brought enough for the three of us…" She murmured, in a way that could have been either apologetic, or accusing. But she didn't seem to be too upset. It was a little hard to read.
"No sweat," Beetlejuice was rolling up his sleeves, seeming to have simply not noticed that he was any less than welcome, and fixed a hungry eye on the food they'd brought out so far, "I'll just grub outta whatever you brought, once the rest of you get your share… That Babs's macaroni, babes?"
"Babs?" Prudence echoed, blinking owlishly in confusion.
"Er, yeah." Beetlejuice glanced at her sideways, but if the girl was waiting for him to elaborate more… Well, he clearly didn't plan to. "Stuff used to taste like shit, but I've got kind of a taste for it now." He added to Lydia, in a stage whisper, "Don't tell the broad I said so…"
"I won't." She murmured, more than a little appeased by the unexpected compliment. "Especially since I'm the one that made it. I've always been the one that made it. And I appreciate you never telling me you thought it tasted like crap before, or I probably would have stopped a long time ago. It's got three kinds of cheese." She added solicitously, when he didn't seem to know how to answer this.
In fact, he didn't… He just couldn't see Lydia playing happy little homemaker, like the Maitland broad did. But of course, that was the least of his surprises for the day. So far, his favorite was seeing Lyds get all blushing and jealous over him… Maybe the girl did have a crush. It was a little hard to believe, but… He could so easily twist that to exactly what he wanted, that it made him feel positively light in the head! At the same time though, there was that voice again, the one that just wouldn't fucking let him have his way…
Yeah, yeah, I know. That's Lyds. She deserves better than that. He pushed the thought away for now, and just watched impatiently as the food was divvied up, and three similar plastic containers were left in front of him. The grub looked pretty good… He went for the macaroni first, figuring it might score him some points with Lyds. But if she noticed, she didn't say anything either way.
He'd never had much of a taste for living world food, but over the past few years, it had kinda grown on him a bit. Sort of an acquired taste. But at the moment, he was too distracted waiting to see what would happen next, and how he could use it, to even taste one of the cheeses, much less all three.
"You know, Lydia, I heard a rumor in town." Prudence suddenly noted, a little more boldly than he remembered, though just as softly-spoken, peering in a knowing way through her glasses. "You know that boy you went out with? I heard that some older man blew his car up, and beat him up pretty good." Lydia choked briefly on her food, and he eyed her, as she recovered. "I heard that it was over you."
"That… asshole…" Lydia said slowly, once she could breathe, choosing her words as she went, "Was an asshole. He forced me to kiss him, felt me up, threw my ring in the goddamn lake he dragged me to, after saying we were going to the movies… Hit me…" At this, Beetlejuice's jaw tightened, and his hands clenched into fists on the table, neither of which he noted, though he seemed to be the only one… "And if all he got was a black eye and a trashed car, he got off too easy."
Bertha was considering him, a fact which he noticed only belatedly, turning his angry gaze to her with a growl. "What're you looking at?" He demanded, already considering when he might have a chance to pay the creep another visit. He'd hit her? Oh, hell no!
But all she did was sit back a little, look approving and wise, and note matter-of-factly, "Mr. Beetleman always has looked out for Lydia." Just as if it went without saying that it was him that'd done it, and also as if it just went without saying that he had every right to, too. Then she glanced at Prudence, and added, "So that's the guy over on Booker Street, right? I heard about that. I also heard he liked to run over things with his car…"
Lydia looked at her, clearly annoyed. "You couldn't have mentioned that before I went out with him?" She asked stonily.
"Well, he seemed like such a nice guy…" Bertha demurred, shaking her head. "I thought it'd be good for you to get out… After everything that happened with Vincent…"
"And that's my cue to change the subject." Beetlejuice grumbled, still not ready to just let the previous situation rest, but definitely not ready to bring up the brooding prince. "The guy's history, forget it." He started spooning macaroni into his mouth again, pretending that was that.
"Oh, I think it was bound to happen sooner or later." Bertha smiled suddenly, the look of someone who knows damn well she has an especially juicy secret, and no intention to share. "I'm surprised it took this long." Everyone there gave her a sort of long, measured look, until the girl clearly started to look uncomfortable. "That is… I mean…" She stuttered, flustered.
"I thought they were nice together." Prudence interrupted, turning to pour some sweet tea she'd brought. "He was very well behaved, not like most boys… And he was always polite, and he treated Lydia very well."
Now it was everyone's turn to look at her, but unlike Bertha, she seemed utterly indifferent to their stares. As if she were just used to it. Gradually, everyone turned back to their meals, something taken out of the formerly light-hearted atmosphere. Beetlejuice felt oddly as if something important had just been decided between the girls, or at least put on the table, but for the afterlife of him, he couldn't have said what it was.
One thing for sure… Lydia's friends had changed. And he wasn't so sure he liked it, after all. Damn breathers.
----------------
They had resumed the discussion that Lydia's father had started that morning, albeit without her, and were currently knee-deep in just exactly could be considered, 'too involved in death.' Edmond was pretty firm on where he stood, stubbornly, while both Barbara and Adam thought he was being a little unreasonable, and Olivia…
Torn between pretty much the only people in the world she gave a damn about these days, she really didn't know what to say. Not because she didn't have an opinion, but because she had a feeling that if she said what she wanted, she'd never be able to take it back again.
The bottom line was that none of them were expecting it, though they all should have been, when a sudden billow of white smoke rose just to the side of them, wafting, forming, and fading, to reveal the ever-irritable Juno. If she expected them to be in anything like awe of her powerful person though, Edmond's immediate greeting of her dismissed that idea. "You were supposed to be here hours ago!" He informed her impatiently, just as if he knew her schedule better than she did.
Juno took a long draw of her cigarette, regarding the man with impassive eyes, utterly unimpressed by the gaze that so many living shied from. "Oh, now you're the one keeping track of these things?" She muttered at him, wafting away his complaints with an indifferent wave of her hand. "Because I could have sworn your daughter had been on a picnic for the past two hours, and quite frankly, I don't have the time to wait around." A pause, and a drag, before, "Now she should be here any minute, so do you have anything else you'd like to address, while we wait?"
A heavy silence fell over the room, but this time, Olivia knew exactly what to say. The rest could wait, this might be her only chance, and old fears did not sway easily. "Where is… he?" She asked with forced control, though her voice did its best to waver. Juno's eyes flicked to her, in such a way that it was clear she knew damn well who the woman was talking about, but she said nothing. "Is there any chance of him getting out again?"
For a long moment, the social worker just regarded her, weighing her answer in her head, before sighing, and looking anywhere but at the breather who'd had such a close call once, with her own former assistant. "He's been out for years." She informed the woman flatly, not acknowledging the way her face went even paler than usual at the words. "These days, he pretty much comes and goes as he pleases. Can't do a damn thing to stop him."
"You mean he found someone to marry him?" Barbara demanded, a little incredulously. The thought of the revolting poltergeist managing to hoodwink anyone into an afterlife of close proximity to him was pretty disturbing… Though she comforted herself to know that at least it wasn't Olivia.
"I mean," Juno corrected slowly, meeting the ghost woman's gaze with her own steely blue one, "That the man has a way of finding loopholes in loopholes, and it was only a matter of time before he got something he set his sights on. The girl there was the exception, not the rule. You'd do well to remember that."
The door swung open at that moment, casting them all into silence, as any further discussion of the feared poltergeist was pretty much made impossible by Lydia's entrance. The girl came no further than the door though, her face locked on Juno's, suddenly looking like she wanted to be anywhere else… But only briefly, before she put on a mask as utterly indifferent as the caseworker's.
Barbara was the only one who noticed, but for now, she said nothing of it. It wasn't impossible that Lydia knew the woman from her own description, after all… "Lydia," Adam interrupted the heavy silence, forcing a rather unhappy smile, "This is Juno. Our caseworker."
Lydia's reaction was odd, not surprised, or curious in the least, just sort of, guarded. Like she might be in trouble. Suspicious, a little displeased… As much as anything, she looked tired. Like she'd just a really fucking long day, even though it was barely noon. "Please," Juno muttered, her lips turned into a rather unpleasant smile of her own, "You say that like we haven't met before."
The words fell on Lydia like a weight, and she narrowed her eyes briefly, wondering if the woman had come to tell on her. That would top her day off just about perfectly… But what would be the point? Her contract with Beetlejuice was binding. Filling her parents in on that fact could only make things more difficult for all of them, the old ghost included. Before she could think of the right way to approach this however, her mother looked at her a little oddly, asking, "How exactly, have you met before?"
"That girl already has a file on my desk thicker than yours, woman." Juno informed her bluntly, not one to mince words. "But you can relax, Ms. Deetz. For once, that's not why I'm here."
Lydia pointedly didn't turn her gaze to anyone else, pretending for now that Juno was the only other one there. "All right," She agreed slowly, taking off her backpack, and dropping it heavily to the floor, "Give me a clue then. What did I do wrong now?" It had to be bad, no matter what the woman said, for her to be there.
It didn't really matter that she didn't know why the woman was pissed… again. She probably had reason. And whatever it was, was clearly bad enough that her parents had to be included this time. And Lydia was, she was certain, the center of everyone's attention. But for now no one else spoke.
Juno took her own sweet time answering, twisting her cigarette between her fingers, while smoke continued to billow out of the slit in her throat, though she hadn't paused to draw in it since Lydia had arrived. "I'm here," She said at last, just a trace of a smirk to the words, "To talk some common sense into you, girlie. Apparently someone's afraid that you've reached the point where you're romanticizing death… And I'm supposed to nip that in the bud."
The living girl stared at her, kind of caught off guard. That was it? Then she smiled, slowly, an utterly amused, relieved smile. Easy stuff. "I don't romanticize death." She said simply, as if that was that, and reached for her backpack again, ready to go bury her head under her pillow, until the rest of the day was over. Too much drama for one day…
"I'm well aware of that girl," Juno interrupted, a bit more sharply now, "That doesn't mean I'm done with you." Lydia paused, hand still on the strap, and gave her case worker a steady look. "I know damn well that you don't do any such thing, but your father had the Maitlands's go through all the proper legal channels, so here I am, and you're not leaving until I'm done. Understand?"
Slowly, Lydia straightened again. That wasn't it? More? Damn it… "Right." She agreed softly. Better to just get this out of the way as quickly and painlessly as possible.
"You don't understand," Edmond cut in, frustrated, "I'm telling you…"
"And I'm telling you!" Juno snapped, spinning her stony blue eyes on him, flashing with impatience. "Your daughter doesn't idolize death, or whatever you may think. She doesn't have a suicidal bone in her body, either. She actually has a very healthy approach to her own mortality, and in fact a lot of breathers would do well to be so well adjusted to the idea of living and dying, when god knows it can't be changed! And I guarantee you, I know a hell of a lot more about the subject than you do!"
She had no way to know how gratified her words made Lydia feel, but then, she probably didn't care. In fact… "That being said!" She turned back on Lydia sharply, eyes flashing with impatience. "What the hell were you thinking yesterday, girlie? Putting that ward up on your door? If the Maitlands's had tried to force their way through it, you could have done permanent damage to them both!"
For the first time during the little conversation, Lydia looked taken aback, and in fact was. The last thing she'd ever do, was put the two of them in danger… "I didn't know it was real." She said at last, her stomach twisting in guilt. "I'd never do anything to hurt them, you know that."
Juno just gave her a long look, before sighing, and lifting her hand to brush against her temple. "It probably wouldn't matter much if it was for real or not, at this point. A breather with the grasp of occult energy you have could probably put a smiley face on your door, and have it work just as damn well. But for the record, it is the real thing." A pause, and then, coldly, "And while we're on the subject, let's discuss that canopy bed of yours."
The girl's lips twisted, in just a trace of uneasiness. Damn. Everything was catching up with her today, wasn't it? "Come on," She muttered, irked by the unfairness of things, "I've had those runes up there for years… Why is it important now?"
"It's important now, because I just today became aware of it." Juno informed her with an impatient frown. "So I've already taken the liberty of confiscating it, and if you have any complaints, you know where to file them." Lydia blinked, and opened her mouth, possibly to object, but the case worker pressed back on regardless. "I'll have the canopy replaced, and you should know that I don't have to do that. So unless you have something productive to say, shut it." Lydia did.
"Now, Ms. Deetz…" She went on, not really mollified, but quieter, "I am formally requesting that you have nothing more to do with runes, protection symbols, or so much as writing in any known dead languages, or I assure you that my next visit will be a lot less pleasant. Am I understood?"
The goth girl considered her at length, as if waiting for her to say more. When she didn't, Lydia tilted her head a little, her thick hair falling over her face in a way that shut her away, at least a little, from the woman she was facing. She was tired of being talked at. It brought out the brat in her, and she knew it, and she didn't care. "Does that mean you can write me an excuse to get out of Latin?" She prompted, just a trace of her usual challenge to her voice.
Juno met her gaze unflinchingly, finally beginning to show a trace of genuine anger. Usually only Beetlejuice could do that to her… But these days, she really expected no less from the poltergeist's little protégée, either. "You better be fucking with me, kid." She growled under her breath, taking no pains at civility now.
Perhaps surprisingly, Lydia wilted a little, looking less rebellious. Damn. She just didn't have the strength today. "Forget it," She muttered, avoiding the old ghost's gaze, "I finished that class last year."
The case worker's brow furrowed a little. "Wonderful." She muttered. "So now you have a functional understanding of one of the languages you're not supposed to use." She paused to take a long drag of her cigarette, like that helped her think, and for a moment they all drowned in white smoke. Lydia was more or less used to it by now, but her parents, all of them, made disgusted faces. It kind of made her want to laugh.
With a twisted set to her lips, Juno shook her head, and with a moment more, went onto another track of thought, without faltering. "Your father's doing his best to deal with everything that's happened to him since he met your mother, Ms. Deetz. Some breathers aren't meant to have dealings with the dead, and for being one of them, he'd done pretty damn well. Even sees us now. So try to be a little easier on him, will you? I don't need any more wasted calls."
She expected her father to say something about this, challenge the woman, but he didn't. He actually looked a little, defeated. Kinda how she felt, though she was certain that wouldn't last. Instead, silence stretched after this, as the Lydia and Juno regarded each other, oddly as equals, despite the differences in rank between them, and the fact that the caseworker could turn her world on her head so fast, it would give her whiplash. Even despite the fact that both of them knew this, and most of the time, Lydia didn't give a crap anyway.
So it was a little strange, that it was finally Lydia who looked away, making a brief look of surprise cross Juno's face. There was no point to getting herself in more trouble, just because she wanted someone to yell at. Juno was not the best person to vent at, even when she had reason. "I'm sorry, all right?" She muttered under her breath, sounding as guilty as she had a moment before, though she almost had to swallow her tongue to say it. "I didn't mean to cause this kind of trouble. I wouldn't have done it, if I'd known it would."
Juno considered her, a little incredulously. "You?" She grunted at last. "Apologizing? Could it be you actually have a fucking idea of how dangerous what you did, was? Do you care who you hurt? Or are you just trying to squirm out of more trouble?"
"No. I mean it." Lydia frowned, running her fingers uneasily through her loose mop of hair. "Believe me, I've had practice doing this lately. Seems like I've been apologizing to everyone." And she was more than a little tired of it, to tell the truth… Even if she probably wasn't done yet.
Clearly Juno didn't know what to say to this right away, but at last she nodded, looking marginally mollified. "You might not be the brat you used to be…" She muttered under her breath, just a little dubiously. "Just try to stay out of trouble."
She started to turn then, to leave, and it seemed Lydia was in the clear… When she paused, and looked back over her shoulder, clearly weighing her next words carefully. "My condolences on what's happened recently." She offered suddenly, her voice just a little gentler. "For what it's worth, I thought you were a good influence on the kid. Gave him a bit of a spine."
There was an uncomfortable silence following this, as Lydia knew damn well what she was talking about, but it was clear that no one else there did. Finally it was Barbara who spoke. "I'm not sure who you mean, Juno. Who-?"
"The boy she was dating," Juno flicked her fingers dismissively, "What did you call him?"
"Vincent." Lydia answered softly, feeling yet another blow to her gut, just saying his name. She really was the talk of the neitherworld… Wonderful. The neitherworld, the living world… She just wasn't going to be allowed to handle this gracefully, was she? But Juno's sympathy was still unexpected… "I can't believe you thought I was good for him. What happened to me being nothing but trouble?"
"In his case, that was a good thing." Juno noted, with just a touch of regret. "That damn family of his has done their best to beat the spirit out of that boy from the time he was born… You gave him something to fight for, and god only knows he needed it." She shook her head. "It was actually worth all the paperwork you ended up causing me."
"Vincent?" Adam prompted, after it became clear she was done, looking puzzled. "Do you have a file on him too? I thought you dealt mainly with the dead..."
"No file." Juno dismissed, quickly looking more collected again, "Just a personal interest. He's out of my jurisdiction." She was still giving Lydia a long, steady stare, before she abruptly made a sound that the goth girl couldn't identify, and turned her back on all of them. "Just keep out of trouble." She warned again, before vanishing in another white billow, gone as quickly as it came.
Once the woman who'd dominated the conversation was gone, everyone turned their gaze to Lydia. Her hair in her face, she considered them through the veil of black, a curtain cutting her world off from theirs. She needed that distance just then. She'd deal with their reactions more fully later. But the truth was, no one really seemed to know how to deal with everything that had just been said… Even if Lydia alone knew that that wasn't even the half of it.
Behind the silky strands, she cast an ever so brief glance in the direction of the poltergeist, the cause of more headaches than he knew, even if he was worth them… Who'd listened to pretty much the whole thing without a word, though she was certain he had to be grinning his ass off, at the least. Just making her that much more annoyed.
But for now… Those same eyes flickered to her father, her father she already wasn't happy with, and something grew cold in them. He'd really gone that all out… It made her stomach cold, and she felt suddenly distant from the man in a way that she didn't really care, just then, if she ever reclaimed again.
And with that same coldness, that same 'you-have-no-idea-who-I-am' set to her lips, she asked softly… "Anything else?"
---------------