Cinderjuice
A Beetlejuice fanfic by Lady Norbert
Author's Notes: This is probably not the most original idea I could have had for how to help Beetlejuice, but it made me laugh. Hopefully it'll make you laugh too.
And yes, Lydia is totally Doomie's mother. The episode "Doomie's Romance" makes it pretty clear that these three are a family.
Chapter Three: A Scream is a Wish Your Heart Makes
The small castle of the Fairy Godfather was situated at some distance from the Roadhouse. Rather than confuse Beetlejuice, Jacques decided to simply give the directions to Doomie, and let him do the driving.
"You sure you don't want us to come along, Beetlejuice? You know, for moral support," Ginger offered.
"Pfft. Nah. How hard can this be? Just sit tight and I'll be back in a while."
"Okay, Doomeroo," said Beetlejuice when they pulled up at the castle, "you wait here. I'm gonna go talk to this guy."
Doomie made a few inquisitive grinding sounds, and Beetlejuice grumbled. "Look, it's not my idea. Blame your mother. She wants to go to this fancy dance, and if I don't find a way to go with her, she could get into all kinds of trouble. Neither of us wants that, right?"
"Meep meep!"
"Atta boy. Stay here."
A couple of suits were standing outside the castle gate. These were not guys wearing suits; they were a couple of actual black three-piece suits standing at attention, with trilbies floating as though perched on invisible heads and sunglasses where eyes might have gone. Nestled beneath each fabric arm was a violin case. Beetlejuice approached them, then paused. "Huh. You with the band or something?"
"State your business!"
"Uh. Right. I'm here to, uh, see the Fairy Godfather."
The two glanced each other; at least, he guessed that's what they were doing based on the way the sunglasses turned, and the gate was raised barely a moment later. Beetlejuice swallowed; this was a bit more intimidating than he'd expected. He adjusted his tie and raked his fingers through his hair before stepping through the opening.
A few moments of wandering later, he found himself before a ghost seated at a desk. His face was heavily jowled and the color of chalk, his eyes sunken; one hand held a glass of wine, the other a cigar. "Beetlejuice. It is Beetlejuice, isn't it? Your reputation precedes you." His voice was deep and oddly pitched.
"Aw, it spoiled the surprise! So - you're the Fairy Godfather I've heard so much about, huh?" He peered thoughtfully at the other figure. "Did anybody ever tell you ya kinda look like Marlon Brando?"
The Godfather didn't laugh, didn't even crack a smile. "You come into my house, the self-proclaimed Ghost With the Most - and for what?"
"Well... I was told you, uh... grant wishes."
"Sometimes, yes, when the spirit moves me to do so. But I have my doubts as to whether you are a spirit who can move me." He set down his glass.
"All right, lemme lay it on you," Beetlejuice began. "I've got this friend. Lydia. She's, well, human."
The Godfather held up a hand. "There is little which happens in the Neitherworld without my knowledge. I have heard of this friend. She was voted Favorite Mortal to Visit the Neitherworld six years running, as I understand, not that she has much competition."
"Right, that's her."
"She is the only person in the world who can make you act against your nature. And that, I suspect, has led you to make this wish."
"Yeah, uh... yeah. She has this special night coming up, next month I think, and well, I can't go with her, since I'm, y'know, dead and all. But it's real important to her." Beetlejuice allowed emotion to creep into his voice, trying to sell the Godfather on his sincerity. He gestured behind his back, and a violin appeared in the air above his head to add a mournful soundtrack to his words. "I just can't stand seeing her unhappy, not after all we've been through together! She's made me the fiend I am today - she's the sunshine of my afterlife." He managed to add a few tears for dramatic effect. The worst part, he thought, was that it was all true. "So I thought that you - being the Fairy Godfather and all - you might be able to fix it so I can do this for her. I just need one night where I, well, where I'm alive again. So I can blend in, you understand. One night being human, and then it'd be straight back to the Neitherworld for good and all. Whaddya say?"
"Alive again?" the Godfather repeated, raising an eyebrow.
"Well, yeah. I mean, how else can I do this without raising any suspicions? If I go as my naturally repulsive self, I might accidentally start hovering in midair or maybe crunch down on a nice juicy beetle, from force of habit, y'know." He heaved a dramatic sigh. "Of course, if that's asking too much of your wish-granting abilities, I understand. Just thought it was worth a try."
"Don't put words in my mouth," said the Godfather sharply. "What you ask is not out of the realm of possibility... but it's such an unusual request that it requires a great deal of contemplation. To grant this, should I agree, would be exceptional. And of course, it would require certain... concessions... on your part."
Beetlejuice frowned. "I dunno if I like the sound of that."
The Godfather didn't reply. He just sat back in his chair, stroking his chin and studying Beetlejuice intently. It seemed to go on for a very long time; he started to sweat under the scrutiny.
"Here's what I'm going to do, Beetlejuice," said the Godfather at last. "Your wish, the sincerity of your affections... my heart is touched. So I'm going to make you an offer that you can't refuse."
"You know, maybe this wasn't such a hot idea."
The Godfather snapped his fingers. A large parchment scroll unrolled itself in the air before Beetlejuice. "This is the offer," he said. "I will provide you with the means to resume your old human form - age appropriate, of course - for ten hours. This will be any ten hours of your choosing," he explained, "though they must taken all in one gulp. You'll be provided with everything you require for the occasion. But you must return to the Neitherworld before the ten hours conclude; otherwise, you will have to remain in that form permanently."
"Uh-huh..." Beetlejuice eyed the contract. "So what's the catch?"
"No catch. Not really. It's all spelled out in the fine print, if you wish to peruse it. During the ten hours of your mortality, I will assume guardianship of your powers - your juice, as you call it. Once you return to the Neitherworld, you'll come back here and return the item which I am about to lend you, at which time your juice will be restored. Just sign on the dotted line, and initial where marked."
"And you... you can guarantee this is gonna work?"
"I did not earn my reputation through dishonorable practices," said the Godfather indignantly. "Business can only be conducted between reasonable persons. If you doubt me, leave, and I will forget you ever darkened my doorstep - after I have the room fumigated, that is."
A pen popped into existence near Beetlejuice's hand. He took it, still uncertain. "Well... shucks. What's the worst that could happen?" he mused. "Anyway, it's for Lyds."
The signed contract rolled itself up and sailed across the room to the Godfather's desk. "Excellent. Now, I'll hold up my end of the wish granting."
"You're not gonna abracadabra me right now, are ya? This shindig's not for a while yet."
"As I said, the ten-hour stretch is of your choosing." The Godfather stood, pulling from his pocket a large ring of brass keys in assorted sizes. He crossed to a cabinet in the corner and, carefully separating one key from its fellows, unlocked the door. "Here we are. One pair of men's dress shoes, like those you saw my guards wearing outside. When you're ready to commence the ten hours, put these on instead of your usual footwear; my powers will take care of the rest."
"I cannot believe you actually 'ad an audience with the Fairy Godfather himself," said Jacques, once Beetlejuice and Doomie had returned to the Roadhouse.
"Yep. 'Course, he'd already heard all about the Ghost With the Most," Beetlejuice replied airily, folding his arms behind his head. "He was probably excited to meet me!"
"These dancing shoes are killer," said Ginger, admiringly. "Lydia's going to be so excited!"
"Speaking of Lyds, I'd better check with her about all this," Beetlejuice noted. "You know. Make sure she's on board and everything. Be a waste if after all that, she'd changed her mind about wanting to go to the prom."