"Do you see it?" Lilly's voice floated from the other side of the television stand. Lucky Lilly- sitting on the carpet in the front of the tv. Poor old Oliver, here on the other side, where there was a huge contrast with the front. It was dusty and it smelled downright old, as if nobody had been back here in five years. That was probably the truth of it.

"Uh..." Oliver's dark eyes were darting around on his side of the television stand. A plug for the ancient VCR was in his right hand. "Yeah!" He called finally, jamming it into the outlet. " Not even a full three seconds had passed when Oliver felt an unpleasant surge go up his hand, and stop at his elbow. His arm had gone numb. He cursed in a very loud voice and crawled out from behind the stand, shaking his hand violently.

"You donut!" Lilly exclaimed, moving over to him on the carpeted floor. "What'd you do?"

Oliver poked out his bottom lip and scowled back and forth between the outlet and his hand. "Stupid thing shocked me!"

Lilly's eyes traveled down to the slightly trembling hand of her best friend. She took it in her own hand and pretended to examine it, stroking an imaginary beard. After a moment, she spoke. "You're gonna be fine, drama queen." She rolled her eyes and put his hand down. As she busied herself with the VCR, Oliver continued to pout and started to ramble. "Fine, but if I'm dead on your basement floor within the next few minutes, you better have it on your consious."

Again, Lilly rolled her eyes. However, she could not stifle a laugh at her over dramatic best friend. "Fine, Ollie." She stuck out her bottom lip and altered her tone as if she were speaking to a two-year-old babysitting charge, not her best friend that was older than herself by nearly three months. "I'll kiss it and make it better."

Oliver extended his arm over to Lilly, who grabbed his hand and brought it to her lips. A couple of seconds later, his hand had been returned to him, and there was that familiar tingling sensation creeping up his arm. It was much different than the one a moment ago as to having been shocked. This one wasn't numbing his arm, it was just sort of a pleasant feeling, one that made him grin. Stop it, Oken, he braced himself. Every time she touches you. Within his mind, Oliver dubbed himself pathetic.

"You okay?" Lilly asked a moment later, because he hadn't said anything. Oliver blinked over at her, as if lost for a moment. He shook his head hastily and said, "Yeah. Yeah, I'm fine."

There was something funny about the way he'd said that, but Lilly chose not to linger on it. "Alright, Oken. It's Beetlejuice time."

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A few movies and several hours later, Lilly and Oliver were still in the basement. They had switched positions a million times since hooking up the VCR. Now Lilly was laying sideways in a huge, overstuffed reclining armchair. Oliver was sprawled diagonally on the couch, his feet resting on the footrest protruding from Lilly's chair. They had come to an agreement that while Beetlejuice was still one of the best movies ever made, Lilly and Oliver could not recall why they ever liked the Spy Kids trilogy.

Now the pair were both sound asleep, oblivious to the footsteps sneaking down the stairs. There was a quick flash of a camera, and Mrs. Truscott retreated back up the stairs with a small smile upon her face, watching the polaroid memory come slowly into focus.

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(A/N: for those of you who haven't read my profile or whatever it's called, I know there's a bunch of you with good ideas that could contribute to this story. If you'd like me to go over them, and possibly put them in somewhere, post them in a review. I'll be sure to credit those of you with the best ideas. D)