AN: :(

Thanks to Yenattirb for allowing me to borrow an idea.

Thanks to Animekitty47, Acelions, and Dark Angel Erissa for their reviews.

Oh, and if you read Parasite, then mayhaps you'll recall Nights saying she had a Christmas party to crash? Yeah, that's in this chapter. If you didn't read it, then there's six months between this chapter and the last one.

Nightshade had always found depressed people extremely annoying.

Of course, she herself had never been depressed.

Until now.

If Nights had thought the Blackthorn Con (the original one, not the one with Derrick) had been a flop, then Operation: Break Up Derrick And Amy had been, well, the mother of all flops. Like a belly flop into molten lava. Ouch.

She had thought her plan was perfect. Use what was true about the little bitch (Amy was a cheatin' sacka shit) against her. Derrick had had a christmas party that night, and Nights was going to possess Amy and make her kiss some other guy. It wasn't even a full blown possession! Nights was just going to "occupy" her mind long enough to suggest she make-out with Brian. It had worked, too.

Nights had attended the party as Derrick's best friend "Taylor Davenport". As Taylor, she had "excused himself for a smoke" and once she was outside, she turned back into Nights so she could slip back in (invisible, of course) and possess the little brunette slut. Everything was going according to plan. Amy sauntered over to Brian (Nights was still in slight control to make sure she did it) and proceeded to suck out his tonsils. Brian was an ass so it all worked out just fine. After Nights had left Amy and stood rather nonchalantly in the corner as Taylor, Derrick entered the room and (rightly so) demanded of his seven-month-girlfriend "just what the hell was goin' on?!"

Amy had broken away from (a rather disappointed) Brian, startled. She looked at Derrick, completely confused. "Ah know this sounds rather strange, but Ah swear it wasn't me!" she had said in her texan accent. "It was as if someone had taken control of me!"

Nights' mental jaw mentally dropped. Taylor stood there, the only distress coming through as a twitch in his eye. That little bitch!

Derrick had taken his girlfriend outside for a chat. When she returned, by herself, she walked up to Nights and said "He wants to see you, Taylor."

Nights should have thought more about why Amy didn't look like she had just gotten dumped by her boyfriend.

20/20 hindsight, and all that.

Once Nightshade had gotten outside, she switched back to her form, and played the sympathetic-best-friend/potential-girlfriend-candidate. But before she could touch him, he had whirled on her, anger and hate in his face, and grabbed the front of her shirt. He was now a good six inches taller than her, so when he pulled her up, her boots weren't touching the porch anymore.

"Just what the hell were you thinkin', Nights," he had growled. Their noses were practically touching, he was that close.

Nights gulped, and blinked a few times. Her hands were on his fist at her throat. This wasn't the plan.

"Fuckin' answer me, Nightshade!" She shut her eyes tight when he yelled and shook her slightly.

"Ace, I-"

"Don't Ace me, Nightshade. Tell me!"

"Derrick, please don't do this!" Tears started falling.

"Ah never want to see you again," he said in a dangerously low voice before saying her name a third time, banishing her back to the Neitherworld.

Nights had appeared in the middle of her living room, and there she knelt, not moving. The tears wouldn't stop.

Everything had gone wrong.

He had picked his girlfriend over his best friend.

And his best friend was the one who loved him.

But she never got to tell him.

He was, after all, dating someone else.

It was hours before she finally had the sense to move. Nights had rushed to the mirror, only to find his side dark. It was as if he had covered it with a dark, thick blanket.

Derrick was gone.

That was when the depression (and the intense anger) hit. She could handle anger, but depression? The poltergeist had no idea how to deal with that. But she needed to vent somehow.

Prince Vince was always depressed. His ever present little rain cloud was testament to that. So Nightshade took her cue from that.

But if she was going to be depressed, she might as well do it right.

Her rain cloud covered the entire fuckin' Neitherworld.

Since she was angry as well, hers was an actual hurricane, complete with strong winds, bright purple lightning, and crashing thunder.

The storm had let up slightly by the time she got to the bar.

Nights stood in her rain, hands deep in the pockets of her trench coat, water falling off the rim of her fedora, her golden blond ponytail soaked, and stared at the sign.

The Three Fates. That was hers and Beetlejuice's usual bar. The words were carved to look like string, and above the name was painted a single eye, and a pair of scissors below.

But that was where the Greek mythology ended. Inside, it was just a regular bar.

She walked inside and made her way to the back, and slumped on her bar stool (directly in the middle). Nights dropped her hat on the well-worn wood of the bar as the bartender approached her.

"Evenin', Miss Nights. The usual?"

Nightshade looked up at the bartender. He was a big guy, not fat, but broad. If she remembered correctly, he had some damn nice shoulders. Of course, she wasn't too concerned with his shoulders that one night. His mop of light brown hair fell just below his jaw, and he had to occasionally flick his head to keep it out of his dark brown eyes.

She never did know his name. Even after she had slept with him.

Nights lightly slapped the bar. "No, sweetheart. Tonight is not a night for strawberry daiquiris."

"Then what is tonight for, Miss Nights?"

"Tonight is for hard liquor. Gimme the best damn whiskey ya got."

"Tyin' to get drunk?"

"Yup."

"Alright. Best damn whiskey comin' up." He turned to get the bottle from the shelved behind him, and looked over his shoulder at the blonde. "Want the shot glass?"

Nights shrugged. "Might as well."

He set down the bottle and shot glass, and gave her hand a reassuring squeeze before he left to take of some other customers.

He really was a nice guy, she thought as she poured her first shot. Someday, she'd have to figure out his name.

Nights was on her third bottle (he really was a nice guy) when someone pulled the bottle from her limp fingers. With a flash of anger (accompanied by a flash of lightning and a thunder clap), she turned to glare daggers at whoever the hell had snatched her whiskey! It was damned difficult to get drunk as a ghost, and there was no way she'd do it if some bastard stole her alcohol!

Oh. She relaxed slightly as Beetlejuice took a swig of her whiskey before setting it back on the bar, and taking the stool next to her.

"Thought I'd find ya here."

"How'd you know to look fer me in the first place?"

He jerked his head towards the windows. "Knew you were behind that."

Right. There would be only three--wait, scratch that. The third person no longer wanted to see her. So, there would be only two people who would be able to tell it was her majik that caused the storm. Beetlejuice and Juno. They were the only ones who knew the taste of her energy signature: strawberries.

Nights shrugged and took another shot.

"So?" Beetlejuice asked when she didn't offer anything.

"I failed." Then she told him what happened, her voice and face expressionless.

When she finished, she turned to him, her eyes bright with unshed tears. "How'd you do it?"

She saw him glance around the room before he put his arm around her shoulders and pulled her close to him, tucking her head under his chin.

"I don't really know. Same you're doin', I guess."

"You didn't make it rain."

"I ain't a broad."

She smiled slightly. "You sayin' the Prince is gay?"

"I wish. Then he wouldn't've tried to take my women."

"I ain't yours, B."

"Close enough."

They were silent for a while before Nights remembered she had something for him. She dug around in her pocket for a bit and pulled out a bottle of shampoo. Then she held it up so he could see it.

She grinned when he quickly grabbed it, and shoved it in one of his pockets of his suit jacket.

"I didn't ask fer any," he growled. Her grin widened when she felt him look around again. If anyone found out he washed his hair, his reputation would be ruined. She knew he wasn't a clean freak, far from it, and the only thing he had to have clean was his hair. It was the rest of the Neitherworld that didn't know that was the case. So she'd get his shampoo for him when he needed it.

"I figured I might as well get a bottle while I was there. Just in case they didn't have any when you needed it." Once, that had happened, and, well, he was not thrilled. He had to have his vanilla. She understood that, she refused to use anything other than her strawberry. Since he would've gone berserk, she went to the managers instead. She had a little "talk" with them, and they promised to never run out again. But she wasn't gonna take that chance. Next time, she might not want to talk her B out of killing the bastards. Again.

Even though she was smiling, she was still depressed, and the rain still fell.

Nightshade wanted another drink, but she couldn't do that in the position she was in. So she waited for Beetlejuice to go back to being his hard-ass self, and stop showing his genuine concern for her. Yeah, they'd been together for a long time, and everyone knew that, but they still had reputations to keep.

Eventually, he let her go, and she took another shot.

Beetlejuice stole another drink, and said "Don't kill yerself." Then he left, since there wasn't anything else he could do for her.

That was fine with her.

She wanted to drown her sorrows in drink.

So she did.

AN: I feel so terrible. Poor Nights . . . I had to tone this down a little, or I was gonna cry while I wrote it. Aw, hell, I'm cryin' now . . .

Next chapter is the last chapter. It's from Derrick's POV. Still third person, though.