Cinderjuice

A Beetlejuice fanfic by Lady Norbert

Author's Notes: Many, many thanks to Bookworm Gal, who just messaged me to say that she created a page for this story over at TV Tropes (where she had already recommended it). I'm speechless, or as close as I ever get; I almost didn't publish this story in the first place because I didn't know that anyone would want to read it, and I'm rarely so happy to have been completely wrong. (I'm wrong a lot, I'm just not often happy about it.)

Chapter Eighteen: The Spell Will Be Broken

The Fairy Godfather prided himself on being a reasonable and honorable individual. True, his contracts could be regarded as snares by the unwary, but he merely insisted on following the letter of the law. Deviations from the terms often led to perceptions of favoritism or worse, and the only true way to encourage loyalty was to remain absolutely fair to all parties involved. This credo had served him well over the centuries.

The Beetlejuice incident, as he called it in his mind, was admittedly starting to wear at his patience.

True, it wasn't Beetlejuice's fault that he didn't surrender all of his juice as promised. He clearly had no idea he'd lost control of a portion of it. And once the Fairy Godfather had realized (quite early in the arrangement) just where the rest of it was, he could begin to understand exactly how it had happened. But it wouldn't do to let him out of the terms of the contract on a technicality like that.

He almost relented when Mr. Monitor showed up. Inwardly he was somewhat appalled that the Neitherworld television network was planning to take so much advantage of the situation. He had little sympathy for Beetlejuice; after all the havoc he'd wreaked over the years, he was due for a bit of his own merry hell. But the human Lydia was another matter. The Fairy Godfather appreciated nothing half so much as loyalty, and the bond between the two of them was impressive, not least given the girl's mortality. It didn't seem right that she would be dragged into the mess, however willingly she went. So it was with some reluctance that he consented to Monitor's intentions, or at least, elected not to interfere.

However, he had to concede that watching the aftermath was frankly very entertaining.

The fact of the matter was simply this: at the time that matters came to their objectively frightening head, the Fairy Godfather was not home.

Had he been in residence, he would naturally have never permitted such an attempt on the mortal's life, regardless of how serious the intent. But he'd gone out, with Sonny and Fredo in attendance, to pay a few calls. This was sometimes an unfortunate necessity; he remained at home as often as possible, but on occasion he had to observe social niceties and make some visits. It wasn't fair, after all, to expect others to come to him without returning the politeness now and again, and giving certain individuals the opportunity to show him hospitality was always good for his reputation.

By the time he returned, chaos had invaded his castle, and he was... well, to say he was "not happy" was an understatement.

He walked calmly into the entrance hall, where he almost tripped over the whimpering pile of cloth and googly eyes which was Scuzzo the Clown. "Who are you? What are you doing here?"

The answer was barely intelligible. Instead, one shaking hand arose from the battered, bewildered bundle and jabbed at the stairs. Overhead, echoing through the corridors, a strange cacophony of screams, thuds, and incoherent shouting seemed to be the order of the day.

"Gentlemen," said the Godfather to his lackeys, "kindly remove this from my hall. I will see what's happening upstairs."

He followed the sounds, moving much faster than his height and girth would suggest, until he finally reached the primary filming room. Absolute chaos met his eyes; Beetlejuice, still in human form, was in an unstoppable fit of rage. As he drank in the scene, the Godfather realized he couldn't exactly blame him, since the arrangement of surgical equipment suggested nothing particularly healthy had been planned for Lydia. She alone appeared unharmed, ironically, freeing herself from restraints which had strapped her to an operating table; almost every other figure in the room had clearly been the victim of Beetlejuice's unchecked carnage. The four-faced television executive cowered in a corner, screaming for someone to stop Beetlejuice from demolishing the camera which would have recorded her grisly fate.

"Enough!" he roared.

Beetlejuice was, at least, reasonable enough to put down the chair with which he was threatening the camera. It was more than the Fairy Godfather had expected, really. As he pushed into the room to properly survey the situation, the human form of the Ghost With the Most abandoned his makeshift weapon and moved back to the gurney where Lydia still sat. Folding his arms, he took up position in front of her, half obscuring her from view and - it might be supposed - silently daring anyone to try to touch her again.

"What is the meaning of this, Monitor?" the Godfather asked.

"It was - we weren't going to really hurt her!"

"Really? Could have fooled me," Lydia muttered. "The saw over my face seemed pretty realistic."

"You come into my house," the Godfather continued, bearing down on the still-cowering executive, "you threaten people who might realistically be considered to be under my protection, and then you have the audacity to claim it was all for show?"

"Well, it was!" he protested.

"Nyah, you didn't tell me that!" shouted Mr. Big, who had finally collected himself from the spot where he'd been thrown. "You said we could kill 'em both!"

"If I'd said it was a stunt, would you have helped me?"

"No!"

"Enough," said the Godfather again. He turned to Lydia. "You're the injured party here. What happened?"

"I was just trying to go home," she replied, "and these..." She gestured to Monitor and his associates, apparently unable to find a word that could describe them adequately. "They grabbed me and brought me here to try to take the juice that Prince Vince says I have." Beetlejuice growled, but offered no commentary.

"Is Prince Vince here?"

"I am," said a new voice. The Godfather turned to watch as the Prince of the Neitherworld, accompanied by Beetlejuice's neighbors and a younger ghoul who could only have been his brother, entered the room.

"Jacques! Ginger! Are you okay?" Lydia cried.

"We're fine, sweetie. What about you?" asked the spider.

"It was a close call, but I'm all right." She put a hand on Beetlejuice's arm, gently guiding him a few steps to the side, so she could meet eyes with the Fairy Godfather. "Sir, with all due respect... I appreciate what you did for my friend. But I think this has really gotten out of hand."

"I have to agree."

"Can't I just give you my share of his juice? I didn't even know I had it, or I would have offered it a lot sooner."

"That kind of power, once given - even unintentionally - is a permanent condition," he explained solemnly. "You will carry it, willingly or otherwise, until the end of your life."

"Is - is that what has to happen?" Her eyes widened. "I have to die?"

"Oh, no you don't!" Beetlejuice spoke for the first time. "You are not allowed to die - not for me, not for anyone!"

"But if it's the only way..."

"Forget it!"

"If I may interrupt," said Prince Vince, "Fairy Godfather, I must appeal to your better nature. Surely when you entered the contract with Beetlejuice, you didn't intend for anything like this to happen."

"I certainly didn't," he admitted. "This is an egregious violation of everything I represent."

"I thought as much. Seeing as none of this is covered by the terms of the contract, wouldn't you say that it renders the original agreement null and void?"

He hesitated. "Never in all my years have I terminated a contract under such conditions," he murmured thoughtfully. "And yet it seems I have no choice. There was nothing in the contract permitting what has commenced."

"So... so you don't need the rest of the juice?" Lydia ventured.

"Need it? Not without the contract, no." He snapped his fingers, and the scroll in question materialized. "For the greater good - and, I suspect, for the preservation of the very Neitherworld in which we live - I terminate the agreement." He snapped his fingers again, and the document burst into a brilliant, violent flame and extinguished itself, leaving nothing but ashes.

"Haha!" crowed Beetlejuice. He stared at his hands and arms as they began to take on their usual appearance. "It's showtime!"

"This can't be good," they heard Mr. Monitor groan.

Before he would actually enact his creative revenge on the ones who had wronged him, however, Beetlejuice had a different objective. He turned around and lifted Lydia off the gurney, setting her gently on her feet. "I'll be right back," he told the others. "Don't go anywhere, because we're going to have a little chat."

He steered her out into the corridor, and the Fairy Godfather, curious, edged through the room in order to observe the proceedings. Sonny and Fredo clattered through the hall, pushing into the room and almost causing him to lose sight of the pair. "Clean up this mess, would you, boys?" he asked, before continuing his pursuit.

"You juice yourself home," Beetlejuice was saying when he was able to listen to the conversation. "I'll deal with all this and check on you later. Okay?"

"Oh, but I thought we were done?" She folded her arms, her expression cool. "I thought you were through babysitting."

He sighed. "Okay, look. I hate saying this - I mean I really hate it - but here goes." He grimaced. "I'm sorry, Lyds. I was just..."

"Trying to protect me."

"Yeah, that."

"You're an idiot."

"Yeah." He hung his head.

She softened immediately. "But..." Reaching out a hand, she tilted his chin up until he looked at her again. "You're my idiot."

"Yeah." His lips curled up in a smile.

"All right. Now I'll go."

"Oh, here... thought you might want this back." He tossed a small object into the air, and she caught it. Her puzzled expression cleared as she looked at a small metallic spider splayed across her palm.

"Yeah, I missed this." She flashed a quick smile. "Beetlejuice, Beetlejuice, Beetlejuice!"

He stood for a few seconds, gazing thoughtfully at the spot where she no longer stood. As he turned, the Fairy Godfather stepped into the hall proper, and intercepted him.

"Beetlejuice, come down to my office. My boys will help the prince handle this nonsense. I have a... proposition for you."

"Another contract?"

"Of a sort."

"No way."

"At least let me explain my idea. If it disagrees with you, we will part ways with no difficulty. But I suspect this may be of interest to you - and to Lydia, for that matter."

"Hmm. Okay, F. G., you've got my attention."