Disclaimer: Ships ahoy! Salty language ahead! Some characters are going to get mad this chapter. If the age-old song of the sailor offends you, you might want to skim through this chapter. Otherwise, on we go! (make sure mature filter is off!)
Thanks to Darkness, 4ever-a-nightmare, and sm4567 for their reviews, to the four individuals who followed, and to the three who favorited this story. Thank you!
The cab jerked roughly to the left and then roughly right again in its escape from the curb, cutting off the car coming up behind it and creating a whole cacophony of noise as the offended vehicle and several around it honked their horns in protest. The cabby merely snickered to himself and glanced in the rear-view mirror at his fare. She was so engrossed in the papers she was tossing around her that she hadn't even noticed the bad driving. The corner of his eye twitched and he looked forward again just as the light at the corner turned red. Without speeding up, he sailed through the intersection to an even greater symphony of horned protest.
Temporarily leaving the traffic behind, he reached up and grabbed the mirror to check the back seat. The woman had now appeared to have made a veritable paper house out of her documents and was scribbling here and there busily in blue and red ink. For a moment he just stared at her- wielding a pen in each hand she was a document marking monster, panting as she went, and mumbling incoherently in what must've been a desperate bid to memorize everything. His grip tightened suddenly, and under the pretense of adjusting the mirror, he grabbed it bodily and clumsily spun it around several times before shoving it up into an utterly useless angle and dropping his hand to the arm rest. His long nails started tapping loudly on the hard plastic.
He heaved a long, drawn out sigh. He flicked his eyes back to try and get a good look behind him but it was to no avail. He heard nothing but the shuffling of papers and small whimpers coming from the back seat. He reached up and slapped the rear-view mirror back into place. "Man!" he nearly shouted. "Dis is some nice ass weatha' today!" he said, eyes glued to the mirror, desperate for a response as he flew through two more red lights. His hand curled into a fist of frustration as the woman didn't seem to hear him at all. He began to nod shallowly, and then more dramatically as he started grumbling to himself in a decidedly more gravelly voice. "yeah, yeah, ok, I see how it is, yeah- I've had enough of this shit."
The cabby slammed his fist into the cheap, hard plastic arm rest, cracking it, and wheeled the car into a tire-screeching turn into on-coming traffic while flicking the radio on to a heavy metal station and blasting it. Lydia screamed as she tumbled to the other side of the back seat. She'd completely forgotten to put a seatbelt on.
"What the FUCK!" she screamed as she fell ass-first into the space between the back seat and the back of the driver's seat. The cabby let out a cackle which was quickly suppressed and replaced with several heavily accented apologies. He grabbed the volume and dialed it down just enough to hear. "Oh! Oh no, lady, I'm sooo sorry!" he cried while dodging opposing traffic, then swerved into a sharp left turn that sent Lydia rolling face first into the seat she was now facing, spinning her right side up again and putting the car back into the proper flow of traffic. Her papers were now flying everywhere, floating even up to the front of the cab where the cabby plucked one deftly out of the air, straightened it, and flicked it elegantly on the side for good measure as he began to read. "well now, whatta we got here, uhhh...'In order to ensure a smooth growth of GDP in all viable markets, liquid funds must...for a higher gross rate in...exponentially profitable? what is this rat shit? don't tell me you're some stock broker bitch or accountant or some bs like that." he said incredulously, slamming the sheet down to stare into the mirror. Lydia had her back to him, her knees on the bench seat, heels in the air, as she grabbed at the papers that had gotten thrown up against the filthy back window. She winced at the volume of the speakers she had to climb over in order to snatch one particularly stubborn document that had gotten itself stuck in a corner.
"really?" he continued. He speared the paper in his hand on the spike of her closest heel and instantly went into another sharp right that cut it so close the car tilted sideways on two wheels as it rounded the curve. Lydia began to slide with her things when she held on tightly to one of the headrests as everything started to fly away again. The cabby slammed on the breaks and she went flying sideways into the back of the front passenger seat, smacking her head into it. With a twist of his fingers, he silenced the radio.
"and that," the cabby remarked. "is why you should always wear a seat belt, kids." He leaned his head against the headrest and laughed as he pulled out a pack of cigarets and lit one up, sucking at it smoothly and exhaling a series of smoke rings much to his own entertainment. As he was admiring his art, Lydia had gathered all her papers, tripping over and then de-lancing the one through her heel, and stuffed them into her bag, desperately throwing all of her things out of the cab as quickly as she could. She was breathing heavily out of both shock and frustration as he looked over his shoulder at her from underneath his tightly pulled cap.
"Ehhh, dat'll be $15.30," he called after her when it looked like she was finally ready to run away. Lydia stopped on the sidewalk, spun around on her heel, and fixed the man inside the car with such an intense look of disbelief and utter loathing that he almost considered telling her not to worry about it. Instead he went with just sitting there, grinning from beneath his cap, when she dug into her purse, pulled out a fist full of cash, and threw it into the passenger window. "Ayyy, nice doin' bidness wich ya! OH!"
The cabby looked down at the floor of the back seat and pointed to a small velvet box that the woman had left behind. "You leave som'n here?" Having picked up her things, Lydia spared the briefest of looks at what he was pointing at when her eyes widened and she shifted all her things to one side. She reached down to pick it up with her newly freed hand when the cabby's own grubby hand snatched it first and held it up in his palm for her to take. Lydia gingerly leaned in, and just as her fingers curled around the box his hand closed like a steal trap over hers, holding both the box and her hand hostage. She struggled to pull free.
"You son of a bitch!" she yelled at him. "The fuck kind of cab driver are you supposed to be pulling shit like this and THEN trying to rob me, are you out of your fucking mind? LET ME GO!" She was loud enough to start garnering looks from people on the street at the scene they were making, which the cabby noticed with relish as he laughed at her abuse.
When she reached a natural pause in her string of curses, he jerked her hand forward and stared at it intently. "so, you're really gettin' married," he stated in an overly familiar rough voice. Lydia gasped as the cabby popped his cap up revealing bloodshot green eyes sunken inside exaggerated dark circles, and a pale, crusty skin tinged with an unnatural green that sent her shooting backwards out of the cab. He let her go, jewelry box and all, and Lydia fell flat on her ass on the sidewalk with her things splayed about her. A terrible, cackling, and all too familiar laugh poured out of the cab as the passenger door slammed shut all on its own.
"Thanks for the booze money, babe!" he shouted over his shoulder, and gunned the car into traffic completely ignoring lane markers, sending two cars onto the sidewalk. The stereo blasted to life again as the filthy yellow cab fled from sight, leaving a heavy metal ballad echoing off the buildings in its wake- "This is only a game, this is only a game..."
There was no mistaking it this time. No, Lydia thought to herself. I know what I saw. I know what just happened to me.
He was back.
Betelgeuse.
–
Her blood pressure spiked, causing her ears to ring. Or was it from slamming her head into the back of that seat? She didn't know which. The fact that her brain was trying to figure that out at all made a part of her deep down laugh at the absurdity of it. After what just happened, that is the only problem you're trying to solve, Lydia? she asked herself mentally. She was becoming a public nuisance now. Passers-by were deliberately tripping over her things trying to incite her to move off the sidewalk. Her eyes glazed in front of her, and she slowly reached a hand out to grasp her bags. After several seconds in slow motion, Lydia finally rose to her feet. She turned around, faced the large glass doors of the skyscraper in front of her, and allowed habit to take over.
She was there-but-not-there as she passed through the front doors and into the atrium. There-but-not-there, as she boarded the elevator and was oblivious to the poorly disguised stares of her fellow riders. There, but not quite there, as she passed through the glass doors of the firm she worked for, and paused at the secretary's desk in silence. The blonde woman seated in front of her continued to chat on the phone as a looming shadow hovering over her caused her to look up.
The secretary's eyes grew wide and her mouth gaped at the state of the woman standing in front of her desk. Slowly she reached up and covered the mouthpiece of the office phone and just stared.
"Marla..." Lydia whispered, wincing from the weight of her things that she hadn't shifted once since picking them up off of the sidewalk.
The secretary nodded slowly, mouth still agape, as she quickly dispatched with the person on the other end of the line and firmly hung up the phone.
"Lydia!" she gasped, and pushed back her chair to round the corner of the desk. Lydia's face momentarily flashed a look of anguish as everything she held dropped to the floor. Marla bent on reflex to catch it, but it was no use. The secretary just stood there, looking at her. On top of it all, Lydia's suit was now crumpled beyond the hope of an industrial press, and catching up with herself Marla gasped again, forcing Lydia to come to.
"Lydia! The meeting! It's already started! What took you so long to get here after I called? What...happened to you?" she asked in a pleading tone, and Lydia grew stone cold before slowly closing her eyes and slumping over on the desk counter.
"Lydia!" Marla whispered, looking back and forth around the office as people walking across the floor eyed them disapprovingly.
Lydia let out a muffled moan and tangled her fingers in her hair as her forehead rested on the counter. "Oh my god..." she mumbled. Marla had begun organizing the mess on the floor and smiled excessively at everyone who passed nearby in a poor attempt at covering up the scene.
"I don't know what's going on, Lydia," Marla began quietly, "But somehow you've gotta pull yourself together and get in there. Craig was having a premadonna fit that you weren't already in yet fifteen minutes before, and..." Marla looked up to see that her speech was having no effect on its subject. Lydia remained in exactly the same state as before. She frowned.
"Lydia...sweetie, what's happened?" Marla rested a hand on Lydia's shoulder and tried unsuccessfully to get her to take back her possessions. Suddenly, Lydia inhaled deeply and rose up, hair hopelessly displaced by her raking, and she stared with red but dry eyes at her friend.
"Marla, do you still have those cigarettes you used to stash in your bottom drawer?" she said calmly. Marla blinked back in surprise and laughed nervously.
"Haha, Lydia, you know I quit, honey...," she said in a sing-song voice while turning away from the people passing through the lobby. She continued in a hushed voice giving Lydia a stern look. "Why would you ask me about that? You know I don't have them! Don't you remember how hard it was for me to quit?!" she insisted. Lydia gave her a sympathetic look before turning down a corner of her mouth, arching a brow, and holding out her hand.
"Lydia..." Marla pleaded, trying to keep her voice down. Lydia didn't waver, and eventually an exasperated sigh and the scrape of a desk drawer indicated she had won. Marla plunked the 3/4ths empty box in the disheveled woman's hand. "I don't know why you're asking for these but I wish you'd tell me what was going on."
Lydia's mouth tightened and her eyes grew sad. "I know," she replied, and headed towards Craig's office. Marla sighed and sagged her shoulders when she realized she was still being weighed down by Lydia's stuff.
"Hey!" she called after her, lifting the bags in the air and pointing at them. Lydia kept walking and just waved as she passed through the glass doors of the biggest office on the floor.
–
Lydia sat in the executive bathroom sputtering over one of Marla's cigarettes when Craig entered.
"Lydia!" he scolded. He sounded like her father. She was not in the mood. "Where were you for the 10:30 this morning? Didn't I say about a million times how important this deal was? Marla told me you came into the office like the walking dead, making a mess, and-" he paused, looking her over. "You don't smoke!" he exclaimed, the declaration coming out more like disbelief than a statement of fact.
Lydia sat there, her leg bouncing up and down nervously when her eyes flared up suddenly with a mix of anger, fear, and annoyance. "I MIGHT!" she yelled back, and slid herself just far enough off the covered toilet seat to slam the door shut in his face and lock it for good measure.
She plopped back down, carefully bringing the tobacco to her lips and slowly inhaled, taking a deep drag before the smoke caught in her now inexperienced throat making her cough.
Craig merely stood on the other side of the door in shock. "Lydia!" he cried suddenly, and began shaking the door knob and banging loudly to be let in when he realized she had locked it.
Lydia did her best to ignore him, leg still bouncing like a champion thoroughbred in the race to escape hell. She took another lighter puff of her cigarette and let the smoke twist slowly through her teeth as she brought her hands up to her temples and began to rub.
"Think, Lydia, think!" she commanded herself. Closing her eyes, she began to hiss when the noise from Craig didn't seem to stop. Her brown twitched and arched ferally. Just as she was about to give him a piece of her mind about how he was only making the situation worse, a voice cut her off.
"wow, that guy is worse than a poltergeist. I can't believe you put up with that shit."
Lydia stopped completely. She sat stone still on the toilet seat, staring at a fixed point on the wallpaper, silenced by shock.
"might wanna ash that, babe," the voice suggested helpfully as the end of her cigarette crumbled all over the top of her leg. Snapping back to reality, Lydia cursed profusely, slapping the ash all over the floor and off of her knee as a low, grating chuckle filled the room.
"too late," it said.
Lydia rose to her feet, shaking the last of the ash off her skirt for good measure, and then just stood there, staring at the wall in front of her, thinking of what to do next. She blinked several times to try and gain focus, and when the voice stayed silent, she decided it was her move. Slowly, carefully, she turned around, and faced the large oval, gilded mirror that graced her fiancée's private powder room.
There he was, his shoulder seemingly slouched against the mirror's frame despite the surface remaining perfectly smooth. She took a moment to look at him- his dirt-smudged black and white suit hadn't changed, his ragged, filthy hair still defied gravity...in essence, nothing had changed. His lip curled, clearly allowing her the pleasure of taking in the sight of him again, but Lydia frowned. She snuffed out the end of her cigarette on the corner of the counter.
"Don't even the dead change over time?" she asked after looking him over. His head jerked back in surprise.
"wull, whaddaya mean 'change'? we're dead- there ain't a lot to change, sweet cheeks," he snorted derisively, but her question seemed to throw him off a bit. She was now looking beyond him, past his shoulder, and into the shadows in the background. He quickly heaved himself straight and held up his hands to block the view.
"ah-ah! you don't wanna be lookin' too hard at any of that," he warned, cocking his head to the side. He glared at her menacingly and she backed up, hitting the wall behind her.
"an' I mean what the hell? two seconds ago you were about to blubber all over the crapper terrified of me and now you wanna know what's goin' on over here?"
Lydia's eyes grew wide. "Terrified...of you?" she asked, gritting her teeth. The ghost on the other side of the mirror smirked. Lydia's frustration flared and her eyes scanned the sink counter quickly. Picking up a plastic cup that had been left there, she threw it violently into the sink where it promptly flew out of the bowl, narrowly missing the mirror, and landed somewhere on the floor out of sight. Lydia stood there, fuming.
"Whoa-ho!" he said, trying to suppress a laugh. "is that supposed to scare me?" he said in a condescending voice.
"It's supposed to make you take the hint that I want nothing to do with you!" she shouted back. He threw back his head and laughed.
"And anyway!" she continued over him. "How are you even here? How can you even get to me! I read the handbook, remember? You are not supposed to be able to do this!"
His laughing died down and he looked at her with a dark shine to his eyes. "somebody let me out," he answered, grinning broadly. Lydia gasped.
"What? And didn't put you back?"
"didn't get the chance to," he replied, suddenly engrossed with shining his fingers on the lapels of his jacket. Lydia's face distorted in disgust and he looked up in vague surprise. "oh! no, I didn't kill him. car accident. nasty business. died on impact and-" he snapped his fingers in an arch and smiled ominously at her.
Lydia scoffed. "Huh, you really expect me to believe that? That you had nothing to do with it." She began to pace the floor while keeping a fixed eye on the dead man in the mirror.
"again," he retorted, his voice tinged in frustration. "I'm dead. no point in changing, and no point in lying. not like there are actual consequences anymore..." he mumbled at the end. He inspected his nails, raising his brows high in nodding approval before looking back at her.
Lydia was now half lost in thought as she walked the floor and stared. With the conversation at an impasse and Lydia determined to hold it together, he met her gaze as she made her way back and forth, back and forth across the tile. He was starting to remind her of a wounded animal. The thought brought a slight tug at the corner of his mouth.
"Then why?" she finally asked pointedly. She stood there, finally still, looking at him squarely.
"because!" he said amicably. "my little Lydia seems to be gettin' hitched to some other jerk."
"So?" she shot back, raising a brow.
"now I know you haven't forgotten our little," he paused, taking on a more refined voice, "Élope-ment, if you know what I mean," he grinned devilishly.
Lydia blinked, wincing. "First of all, that is not how you pronounce that word- your French is atrocious. And second of all, we did not elope. We didn't even get married. Period. You got eaten by a sandworm. You remember that?"
His smirk fell slightly. "oh yea, I remember that, no thanks to you," he said, straightening his lapels.
Lydia's lip curled. "What was I supposed to do? Anyway, what do you want? A wedding invitation? Because you're not getting one," she said, putting her hands on her hips.
He laughed quietly. "Nah babe, don't need one uh them," he said shaking his head, staring at her. Lydia sighed and rubbed her head in exhaustion.
"What...is it you actually want then? Come on, because this is getting old."
The ghost leaned over and his head bumped into the surface of the other-glass, smudging his forehead against it as he looked at her, watching her back away slightly on seeing the boundaries of the mirror at work.
"I got a previous claim," he said low into the glass. "you can't do shit without my blessing. and, well, frankly I'm not too keen on giving it." He watched Lydia's face as it morphed from incredulity to confusion to utter revulsion.
"What the FUCK-" she shouted. "Previous claim? What was I- traded for three goats and a mule? Nobody has any claim on me!"
He cackled into the glass. "you offering? not according to the netherworld, babe. we might not've...done the deed, or how should I say? gone all the way-" he laughed as she winced at his words. "but you agreed to our little bargain under the condition of 'le mari-age' so when it comes to that, you and I are tied up in all sorts of red tape, sugartits. Mmm, red tape..." he trailed off, and then began laughing at his own crude suggestions.
"What a bunch of bullshit!" she shouted louder. "I mean WHY! You're free now, right? Why would you even bother with this anymore? It's useless- pointless! You already got what you want!" she tried to reason, but he just grinned at her crookedly as his laugh died down again and shrugged.
"dunno," he drawled. "bored."
Lydia's eyes grew positively feral as she began screaming obscenities at him, an echo of that morning, and he just chuckled, shoving his hands into his pockets and swaying like her curses were music to his ears. When Lydia finally wore herself out to a dull roar, she began pacing the floor again, mumbling to herself as he looked on.
"oh!" he exclaimed, making Lydia stop in her tracks. "What!" she fired back.
He grinned. "nearly forgot about him," he said, and mimicked turning the volume up on an invisible stereo. Craig's voice could be heard through the door again, only talking incessantly now, and his pounding had been reduced to firm knocking. Lydia gaped at the ghost in the mirror who had resumed lounging at an irrational angle against the inner frame.
"You turned him down?" she asked in disbelief.
"Well, I didn't think you wanted the competition, y'know?" he quipped, and before Lydia had a chance to reply, he held up a finger.
"oh, and also this- have fun," he said roughly, and made a mocking bow as he stared up at her with a lascivious grin on his face. The lock on the bathroom door popped open making the door swing wide, causing Craig to nearly fall inside. Lydia dodged out of the way and looked at Craig wide-eyed. "Really?!" she shouted, pushing him out and slamming the door shut again. When she looked back at the mirror, the ghost was gone.
Lydia sighed at her own reflection.
"My hair really is a mess."
**A/N: This story has been moved from the movie category to the cartoon one as the cartoon one is lively by comparison. Sincerest apologies for any annoyance or inconvenience this causes anyone! :/
Thanks so much again for reading!