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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Okay, so I've got these two really great fans, who've done fanart on another one of my Beetlejuice fics... To be specific, on my 'But He Promised Her Forever,' fic. How incredible is that? So I've been lazy, not telling anyone about them, but I figure, they're nice enough to do something like that, I should really tell everyone who reads my stuff? So check out deviantart .com/art/He-Promised-Her-Forever-107999108, by akynox, and deviantart .com/art/Who-the-hell-are-you-109077022 by beetlebabe. Come on, who could ask for more, than great readers?
That being said... Urg... I know I shouldn't fuss over my own work, and I have been getting better at it, but... Encouragement is welcome.
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A faceful of cold air hit her first, followed by the stinging of tiny snowflakes, driven against her- Wait, snow? Lydia lifted her gaze, releasing the poltergeist only slowly, and found herself standing on cold gray concrete, surrounded on all sides by the sheer dark faces of windowless buildings, stretching for the sky. A pile of toppled garbage cans stood, not ten feet away, and somewhere off to the side, she was sure she saw blinking neon lights… Even if she didn't have a clue what they said.
"Hell." She said softly, not so much in surprise, as it was a guess where he'd taken her. Beetlejuice seemed to get that too, because he hooked his arm around her shoulder, spun her to face the end of the alleyway, and noted in a satisfied voice,
"Better, babes. New York."
Lydia just shook her head, and let him lead her out into the main street, which was crawling with more people on the one sidewalk, than she thought lived in the entire town of Winter River. Her breath momentarily stolen from her lips at the close proximity of pressing bodies, she felt one wild moment of being pinned in, trapped, before her guide drew her out of the worst of the milling locals, and directed her attention to a small metal door just off to the side.
Again Lydia felt a brief, surreal moment of panic, as he steered her to the riveted steel portal, with no sign to indicate what lay within. But with Beetlejuice's arm snuggly around her shoulders, and no way back but the ghost with the most, the overwhelmed goth girl couldn't seem to manage enough of a protest to prevent the door being swung wide, and being drawn into the dark depths within…
This time, the first thing that hit her was the smell of food… Garlic, for the most part, various butter sauces, and what she was certain was an almost overpowering scent of wine. She stumbled a little, making Beetlejuice glance at her from the corner of his eye, though he seemed more amused than worried. He was right though, so far not one person even looked up at them, wherever they were, much less seemed to find the way they were dressed as strange.
A man in an odd tan-colored leather suit was the only one who paid attention to them either way in fact, stepping before them with his hand up, like he personally intended to prevent them from coming in. "Reservations?" He asked bluntly, his tone more than a little bored, as he repeated the question he probably had to ask a couple of hundred times a day.
Beetlejuice bared his teeth, and for one wild moment, Lydia thought the guy was about to be in for some serious 'juicing'… But then the poltergeist just tipped his hat, like he was being polite, and noted with a little bit of a sneer, "Beetleman, buddy. Table for two."
Beetleman? It was all Lydia could do, not to fall into a fit of laughter, but the bored man referred to the thick list in his hands, nodded noncommittally, and gestured for them to follow.
The restaurant, as this was what it seemed to be, was dark, and had an overpoweringly… Not quite fishy smell, exactly, but definitely the smell of something close. The only lights in the place seemed to come from low burning oil lamps at every table, which left her wondering for one brief moment how that could be up to code, before she realized, reaching them, that they were actually just very good facsimiles. It gave the place a close, personal sort of feel, everyone leaning in close to everyone else to talk, touch hands…
Lydia was a little nonplussed as the reservation guy, maitre de, or whatever, tried to pull her chair out, only to have Beetlejuice wave him off with a slightly feral smile. "I can do it, buddy." He muttered, closer to a growl, all but snatching the chair from his hands. The other man couldn't seem to care either way, just drifting back to his station without interest.
Beetlejuice slid the chair out for her, slightly mad smile still in place, and waited for her to sit down. She considered him, trying to play the part of a gentleman, and wondered what the hell he was up to. This so wasn't his style… As far as she knew. But she took her seat obediently, and waited as he went to get his own chair… Which he swung around, straddling it like some teenage boy trying to look cool, and folded his arms over the back, just watching her.
"Okay, so… We're eating. Right?" She prompted, since he hadn't said two words yet about just what he had planned. When he just cackled softly, she started to get a little annoyed, even if it was all she could do not to giggle along with him. "Okay, what kind of restaurant are we talking here, Beej… Italian?"
"Shell-food." He answered, a little glint to his eyes showing how much he was enjoying this. Lydia made a soft sound of acknowledgement, waiting for the punch line. "Any kind of thing that wears a shell, they got it to eat at this place," He went on more slowly, as if she were just that simple, "Turtles, snails, crabs, clams… Anything. Kind of a theme thing." He pushed the waiting menu across to her, adding in an innocent voice, "I totally recommend the oysters, babes."
"Oysters," She echoed aloud, smirking, "Right."
Beetlejuice snorted. "Hell babes, that's what I'm gonna have!" This said though, he vanished behind his menu again, making soft 'hemming' sound, like he was still puzzling over something.
Lydia turned to her own menu with a grimace, determined not to get the oysters, or give him any other indication that he was getting his way in this 'date.' Her next instinct, with just a devilish hint of a giggle rising in her throat, was to get the lobster instead… Because god knew that didn't send any mixed signals.
Everything looked good, to be honest, but in the end she decided to go for something safe… Something that probably couldn't be taken as a mixed signal. "I'm gonna have the shrimp cocktail." She murmured, turning her eyes towards the drinks. All that seemed to be available though, was a rather lengthy wine list… "Don't they have anything to drink?"
A low chuckle made her lift her eyes, and frown at Beetlejuice's look of sheer mischief. "You wanted to go somewhere you wouldn't be carded, babes." He reminded her, nonchalantly. "Well hell, there's places like that right here in the good old USA… You just gotta know where to look."
Lydia narrowed her eyes at him. "The end all and be all plan you have for this date, better not be to get me drunk, Beej." She informed him flatly, making him give a sort of stage sigh, like she was just being so unreasonable. "I mean it, Beej…"
"Hell, Lyds… I'm not trying some cheap shit like that with you." He grimaced, waving this away as ridiculous. "The last thing I want is you having some 'morning after' deal, and sending me packing back to dead man's land." A slow smile grew across his pale lips, as if this next just now occurred to him. "Nah babes, when I seduce you, you're gonna know it… And for the record, I ain't even started!"
"Reassuring…" Lydia mused, pushing the menu away anyway. "Well fine, one glass of wine. That's it."
He considered her set, stubborn features, and sighed again, this time inwardly. She had every defense up… Damn it. "Babes," He pleaded suddenly, spinning his chair back around in a seemingly impossible move, that involved his legs not changing position at all, "Just give me a chance, all right? I'm not asking much… Just loosen up a little, and stop staring at me like you have the word, 'NO,' stamped between your eyes!" A little hint of a tease touched his voice, as he added, "Just be the babes I know and love, all right? One night."
Something in what he'd just said caught her off guard, but for the life of her, she couldn't pin down what it was. But it did make her feel suddenly vulnerable, and left her wondering, for the first time, if maybe she was being too dismissive of the idea. Sure, he was… Beetlejuice… But then again, he was, Beetlejuice, too. A guy who'd always treated her like her own person, and even now, when he was at his sleaziest with her, still didn't cross the lines she knew he wouldn't hesitate to, with some other woman.
So she was left looking at him with, above all, a puzzled expression. Best friend. Dead guy. Gross, trouble-making, lecherous Beetlejuice. Did he actually have a thing for her? Like, not just trying to get in her pants? It seemed to go against everything she knew about the guy…
And just thinking about it made her uncomfortable. She'd never considered there might be actual feelings in the equation… And it wasn't something she really wanted to think about now. "One glass." She reiterated, trying to regain some sense of her composure. God, she'd never thought about him like that before, not even with all his flirting and… Erg, think about something else… And definitely don't try to understand the way her stomach felt all twisted in knots now, like there might actually be something…
Beetlejuice, utterly oblivious to the thoughts racing through her mind, could only assume that the evening was getting off to a bad start. That was fine. This was Lyds he was talking about after all, she couldn't resist cracking up at his jokes, having a good time with him, maybe even flirting a little in return… The night was just getting started.
He took the brim of his hat between thumb and forefinger, sliding his touch along the edge, and tipped it at her slightly, grinning. Lydia just considered him for an extended moment, still getting her thoughts in order, then prompted suddenly, "You know, you're not supposed to wear your hat at the table."
Beetlejuice scoffed, tipping it down to cover his eyes a little. "Babes, you think I'm gonna start playing by the rules now… You don't know me at all." At this point, the waiter came up to take their orders, and Beetlejuice, not giving her a chance, ordered for them both, adding a request for some wine she couldn't pronounce, two glasses. The man taking their menus didn't so much as glance in Lydia's direction.
"How has this place not been shut down?" She muttered under her breath, finally relaxing a little in her chair, and regarding the hypnotic flickering of the lantern through lidded eyes. She didn't really have anything to say but this though.
Still, there wouldn't be some extended silence, she was sure, not with Beetlejuice. He was fidgeting with his cufflinks, like they pinched him, sort of a sour look pursing his lips, which fell away into an absent expression, all over the course of about thirty seconds. Then he looked at her with inspiration. "How's the blonde bitch doing these days?" He prompted, looking genuinely interested. "She doesn't give you a hard time anymore, right? She graduate too?"
"Two years ago." Lydia assured him, unable to resist a smile, despite herself. "Going to school overseas… Thank god. If she never comes back to Winter River, I sure as hell won't miss her." Her eyes narrowed briefly in thought. "I think she's somewhere in France."
"Wonder what the French ever did to her." Beetlejuice mused, before adding, with a small cackle. "Tell you the truth, I expected that girl to be locked in a rubber room, a long time ago. I sure as hell gave her enough reasons to go over the deep end… Guess I was too easy on her, being a chick, and all."
Like Beetlejuice had ever gone easy on anyone, regardless of gender, age… anything. But Lydia was amused too, and noted, in as by-the-way as possible, "Well, there were those two months she missed in the middle of senior year that no one talks about… The official word is that she was on a 'health retreat.' But it was right after you lead her on that trek through the cemetery…"
This time the sound he made was a little less controlled, a truly maniacal laugh. "Betcha a bottle of hundred year old whiskey, the little bitch still ain't figured out how she ended up in that open grave I fixed up for her!"
"Only one of several open graves left that night." Lydia agreed, propping her chin in her palm, as she considered the memory fondly. "Funny how well the dead can walk, when they're given enough reason. Funny how many ended up in that grave with her, too. The people who had to dig her out of that dog-pile, were not happy."
"Actually, I got paid pretty damn well, to help them clean up the mess. So I was plenty happy." He stroked his chin with one finger, adding, in a sort of satisfied way, "Last time she pulled any shit with you though, wasn't it?"
At this point he paused, blinking, and seemed to come out of his reverie with a little look of surprise, as if when he looked at her again, he was still expecting to see the kid he'd just been talking about protecting. All he said though, was, "Huh," And consider her again like he was taking her in for the first time, before his eyebrows flew up, and he leaned back in his chair, a confident expression plastering itself across his face. "Well hell Lyds, I always look out for my babes, you know that!"
"Yeah… Common sense, or ethics, or whatever, be damned." But she didn't look unhappy, saying this. "Guess I'd rather have you on my side, than against me, given the choice. But I suppose most would."
"You'd be surprised, babes." He murmured, before pausing, clearly thinking what else to say. Before he could though, the wait-person was back, this time with their glasses of golden wine, while another waiter carried their dinners. It surprised her a little, that it had taken so little time…
There was no ceremony to it, the dishes were set down without a word, no 'enjoy your meal,' or 'please tell me if you need anything.' Certainly without pause for a thank you, as if it just wasn't expected. It left Lydia puzzled, and facing a massive mound of jumbo shrimp, while her 'date' looked down, pleased, at an equal sized pile of oysters, still in the shell.
Lydia hoped that the dinner would now be composed of eating, but no sooner had she dipped her first shrimp, before she'd even put it in her mouth, than she was distracted by a sickening slurping sound, as Beetlejuice attacked his first oyster with exaggerated gusto… Then, with still glistening lips, shot her a nauseating grin.
She closed her eyes for a moment, her stomach turning, but her lips fluttering in little twitches, as she tried not to let him see how much she wanted to laugh. "That is so gross." She informed him matter-of-factly, before pointedly turning back to her own meal, and not looking at him again.
"You know you love it." He purred, a sound that really wasn't right coming from him, before digging into the next shell.
And they didn't talk much after that, but Lydia was enjoying her meal more than she expected, anyway. She did like shrimp, even if she was putting off tasting the wine… At last though, she grew bold, and held the stem of the glass tentatively between her fingers, looking at it rather like a snake that might bite her. Beetlejuice just watched, eyes flashing in anticipation, not saying a word. Closing her eyes, she brought the glass to her lips, and took a bold sip…
It was, sweet, and incredibly sharp, and somehow, she didn't know how, it was somewhat dry too. Mostly, it was good. She put the glass back down with a display of having faced her fears, and gave Beetlejuice a defiant look. He didn't say a word, just turning back to his meal, looking rather like he was pissing himself trying not to laugh. Not that that lasted long, before he dissolved in obnoxious little cackles…
"Ass." She informed him bluntly, making him flip her off randomly over the table, before lifting up one of the gray-brown shellfish, a little twitch to his eyebrow.
"Since you're feeling brave, babes…" He taunted, spinning the mollusk on his fingertips, and presenting it to her with a flourish. "Go on. You know you wanna." It was clear as he said it, that he was never going to let her live it down, if she didn't.
Lydia rolled her eyes. "What are we now, nine? Are you going to double-dog dare me, next?" Beetlejuice just continued to smirk. "Fine, whatever…" If this was the most important point she conceded to him over the course of the night, she was doing pretty well, after all… She considered the oyster warily, taking it from his fingers, and inspected the odd, oblong, bumpy brown surface. "Okay, um, how to I do this?"
"Okay, it's like this," He lifted another one by way of demonstration, "You kinda purse your lips, tip the shell, and…" He paused, looking more perverted than usual, "You suck." Before she could object to his little innuendo, he was slurping down his own oyster, in an exaggerated way again, and regarding her with a glint of challenge. "First time's always a little tricky, babes." He added, silkily.
Resisting the urge to throw the oyster at his head, she ignored his choice of words, and followed his instructions… Only to end up with a mouthful of seawater and sand, as well as oyster. Making a face, she regarded the empty shell with a rueful look, wondering what she'd done wrong, before she gracefully spit the unappetizing mouthful into her napkin.
Beetlejuice just looked triumphant, in an oddly sleazy way. "Told ya, babes." He held another shellfish in her direction. "Try again. I swear, when you're doing it right, you'll love it."
More double meaning. Great. She accepted the oyster with a lot less hesitation this time, tipped her head back, and slurped it up, just like he had… And was actually a little surprised when she seemed to have done it right, just ending up with the oyster, and not whatever else was in its shell. It was sweet, and a little chewy, not as much as she'd expected… Pretty damn good, to be honest.
Lydia set down the shell, and considered his plate with an appraising eye. Smirking, he pushed it in her direction, and invitation given, she helped herself to another. It was only after her third, the right way, that she considered him with little knife in hand, popping the shells open for her. "So… Are you killing them?" She asked, suddenly uneasy.
"Yep. They're still wiggling their last gasps when you swallow them down, babes." He informed her matter-of-factly, showing every pointed tooth, like he dared her to protest this.
Feeling suddenly a little green, Lydia turned her attention back to her own meal, leaving the dying little mollusks for her date to enjoy. "You are… so gross." She said at last, a little weakly, while he continued to enjoy his meal with gusto, not grieving the soft bodied little things. But for all her revulsion, she couldn't help but stare at him with a macabre sort of fascination from time to time… Until he lifted one of the shellfish in his hand again, and offered it in her direction with a little chuckle.
"You know, babes," He informed her, with a silky little murmur, "You're a lot more fun when you say yes…"
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The snow was swirling around them now, stinging her cheeks as they walked down the darkened street. The sun had apparently set while they were eating, so now she was seeing New York at night… It surprised her a little, despite pictures she'd seen, how full of light the darkness was. But it was maybe the sound that was the most surprising… It filled everything, conversation, cars, music… A hundred other things she couldn't even identify!
And she walked through it all with Beetlejuice's arm tucked around her waist, drawing the occasional passing glance of interest, but never more than this. It was cold… But after years of zipping in and out of the neitherworld at whim, she was used to a cold that ran far deeper than this. So she just blinked when the ice crystals gathered on her lashes, turning her gaze to an oddly lit sky, swirling with sparkling flakes. She didn't know why it was still snowing here, but the fine dusting of it over the otherwise harsh grey world was, comforting.
She glanced at the poltergeist by her side, grinning like he was having the time of his afterlife, hat tipped down slightly over his features, every bit the part of a good-time guy having a night on the town with his girl. For the life of her, she didn't know why he was so damn cheerful. Okay, usually he found his own reasons to be, but how could he be so optimistic that by the end of the night, she'd start seeing things his way?
The real question bothering her of course, was why he was even going through so much effort? He'd had a girl, before all this started. Pretty much all over him too, from what she understood, though admittedly that could have been an exaggeration. And Beetlejuice was not, she knew, a real picky guy. Why dump a sure thing, for… Well, what she just didn't see happening?
He was talking a blue streak at the moment, pointing out all the local sights to her, though she couldn't guess when the last time was that he'd been here. Lydia was listening with sort of half an ear, most of what he was telling her about big important things that had apparently occurred on every doorstep had to be bullshit anyway, but for the moment he didn't seem to notice.
There was a method to Beetlejuice's madness, she'd learned long ago… He could talk circles around anyone, about anything, and in the end, pretty much lead the conversation right where he wanted, without the other person really even being aware of the ride they'd just been on. He'd done it to her many times… Although the motive there, had always seemed to be to make her laugh, or set himself up as the straight-man for one of her snide remarks. Either way, they always had fun.
And she was having fun now, whether she wanted to admit it or not, laughing through her nose when he described the conversation he'd had with Elvis under a certain stoplight, just to the side of them. He looked triumphant, and began embellishing his tale, accompanied by extravagant hand gestures, and hip thrusts, as he explained how he had been the one who taught Elvis all his moves. And how he could have been so much bigger than the king… Except for the whole, being dead.
If only they were out for one of their regular, trouble-making adventures, she'd say she was having the time of her life. They'd been to three different theme nightclubs by this point, each more ridiculous than the last. Their most recent had left her with tears of laughter streaming down her cheeks as Beetlejuice drew her into the most ridiculous dance she'd ever seen… If she was to believe his efforts back there, the guy had no rhythm at all…
And yet after making a thorough spectacle of themselves, they'd swept out into the street, and proceeded into another dance, this one, amazingly, with every move on its mark. As it turned out, he was an excellent dancer. He was just so full of bullshit that it was hard to tell. And dancing down the street, snowflakes swirling around them, people stopping to stare and laugh, was a lot more fun than bad techno in a multicolor-lit club, anyway.
Yes, if they were just hanging out as friends, she'd be having a blast… So it didn't make sense, the way her stomach was all twisted in knots, despite the good time she was having. Or that it was getting worse. Why did Beetlejuice have to change things? Why couldn't they just stay friends? Maybe he'd realize, soon, that this was all the night was leading to, and things could go back to normal… So why couldn't she convince herself?
Though the pain in her stomach had been growing worse for the past three hours or so, she didn't say a word to him, just grinning at his jokes, enjoying his company, and pressing her increasing nausea to the side. When he grabbed her by the arm though, stopping her suddenly, her gut gave an alarming lurch, and her eyes teared for a minute, as she fought to regain her balance.
Damn, she was that sick? She really hadn't noticed… And the thought alarmed her. Beetlejuice had been going out of his way to show her a good time all night, and she'd been so determined not to ruin it for him, that the severity of her upset stomach had crept up on her. She grimaced inwardly, wondering if it was food poisoning, or just really bad nerves. With her luck, probably both.
"Babes, check it out!" Beetlejuice was saying, giving a grand gesture towards a badly painted sign over a double glass door. "Karaoke! Come on, you gotta try it, you gotta let me hear you sing… No, I got it, we'll listen to all the chumps bellowing their lungs out, and laugh our asses off at them! Bad singing, shitty dancing, cheap champagne… You're killing me here, Lyds, say-yes-god-damn-it!"
Despite herself, Lydia giggled, feeling the nausea pass for the moment. One more stop couldn't hurt… They'd listen to a little off-key singing, maybe get something to get this taste out of her mouth, then she'd get Beetlejuice to take her home. Easy as pie. Bullshit, Lydia Deetz… A little voice warned her quietly. But she didn't want the night to end yet. She was still having fun! A little upset stomach was no big deal…
It turned out that the first person currently on stage, actually sang well, so she was spared the possibility of falling over in laughter before they actually reached their seats. She was barely aware of Beetlejuice ordering said bottle of cheap champagne, just considering how thoroughly pleased he looked with the way the night had gone, and unable to resist a smile. Of course, when he saw her smiling at him, he read it all wrong, and gave her a sly little wink… But that just made her laugh again, and shake her head, forgetting for a moment that he might be serious.
She knew she should pay more attention, as he poured the glasses of champagne- she'd said one glass of wine, damn it- but instead she'd finally thought of something to break the silence between them herself, and was curious how he'd respond to her line of thought.
"Hmm. You know," She mused, as if in all seriousness, "I can't believe you haven't made us skip out on one check all night. I mean," She went on, allowing some of her humor to show when he arched a brow at her, "Any minute, I keep expecting you to grab hold of me, and zip off into, whatever, just before the guy shows up with the bill. But not once, all night." She accepted the glass as he handed it to her, adding, "Classy, Beej."
"You know it, babes." He agreed, before tipping his glass up, and chugging the entire thing in like three gulps. Then he sort of slammed it down, hard enough that she was a little surprised it didn't break, and grinned toothily at her. "You're with me, class all the way!"
Lydia hid her face behind her fingers, trying to control what was attempting to escape from her chest. It was all a moot point anyway. He knew she was having fun. Shaking her head, she took a sip of the champagne, always having wanted to know what it tasted like anyway… And for being cheap, it was pretty damn good. The bubbles tickled her nose, she didn't know why… It just wasn't like soda, somehow. Scratching the tip of her nose lightly just seemed to set Beetlejuice in even better spirits though, and he poured himself another glass, propping his chair back on two legs, and looking inordinately self-satisfied. Oddly enough though, he didn't say a word.
The next three performers all made her groan, and want to cover her ears. While she didn't have the heart to tell them what she thought, Beetlejuice of course had no such reservations, and the last of the singers he'd heckled throughout her song, ran off-stage in tears, drawing some laughter, and many dirty looks. The next thing she knew, half her glass was gone, and he was urging her to go up on stage, and show them how it was done. This not even knowing if she could sing worth shit.
But to tell the truth, she wasn't really paying attention to him anymore. She hadn't even gotten upset over his making the girl cry, as much as anything because she simply didn't notice. But Beetlejuice finally did notice that something was wrong, as he paused in his urging to take in the pained look on her face, and the way she was holding her stomach.
His eyes grew calculating as he watched her, suddenly not saying anything more. It didn't take a genius to tell she was sick. What he couldn't tell was how long now, she'd been sick. But if she was no longer having a good time, his date had just gone to hell. And the amazing thing was that he didn't give a damn… He was just worried about her.
When Lydia lurched to her feet suddenly, muttering 'oh god' under her breath, Beetlejuice was already standing, grabbing her by the arm, and ripping them through space… She didn't know where. What she was aware of was doubling over as he held her, tightly, protectively, and the next thing she knew, her stomach was refusing to be ignored any longer. She wasn't sure she'd ever felt so sick in her life…
It lasted what felt like forever, but finally the spasms slowed, and she became aware of a few things. She was in a bathroom. Beetlejuice hadn't let her fall to her knees, but was holding her gently around the waist, tipping her down far enough that the mess reached the toilet, while his other hand, fingers tangled in her hair, held it back to keep her from getting sick on herself. It was a vulnerable, scared position to be in, and it left her with an overwhelming sense of gentle worry from the poltergeist… Not anything she'd ever expected from him.
But then this moment of clarity was ripped away as her nausea returned, and she proceeded to be painfully sick some more, while he just supported her, lips pressed together grimly, his grasp surprisingly tender, not saying a word. Almost cradling her. When she simply had nothing more in her stomach to surrender, he scooped her up like a child, or the way he had when he'd found her at the lake, and sighed, dropping a surprising kiss on her forehead.
"Lyds, you could've fucking told me." He muttered under his breath, just before drawing her into the darkness again. The darkness, where all she was aware of were his arms around her, the feel of his chest supporting her weight, and a smell that she'd long ago associated as simply him. Sparks of fire, fragments of ice, the caress of shadows… Her head was clearing a bit, and more than anything, her sudden weakness left her exhausted. She just wanted to go home.
So it made no sense why she made a sound of protest as he laid her back on her own bed, her hands reaching to hold onto him. "S'okay, babes." He murmured, pushing her hands away. "You're home now. 'M right here."
Lydia pushed herself up to a sitting position, drawing the covers around herself, and considered the ghost with the most, who looked more tired than she felt. He looked, defeated. As if he'd just really fucked up something important. But he reached out, running his thumb gentle along the center of her forehead, and gave her a weary smile. "Hell babes, not exactly the way I hoped it would turn out, right? Not that I didn't get you in bed…"
Lydia chuckled, just a little. She also reached out, before she really thought about it, and pulled his hat from his head with one hand, tousling his hair weakly with the other. "I wasn't bored." She murmured, not protesting when he pushed her back into bed. Even pulling his hat on her own head and drawing it down over her eyes, to block him from her sight. She knew he was there though. She could always feel when he was there.
And this time, he didn't leave her once she was resting… She knew, because he was still there, when she fell asleep…
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