Author's Notes: I apologize for the long gap between the previous chapter and this one; this chapter was originally much longer, but, as I'm having difficulty finishing what is now Chapter Seven, I decided to split them. Better to have shorter chapters and update more often than finish the story off in two HUGE chapters and only get them finished by March, right? That being said, Chapter Seven should be out soon as it's almost finished.

Chapter Six

It was a crisp September morning, and for Lydia, it began early. She had one last publisher to try before her shift in the bookstore started, and then she was hoping to steal away to Central Park and take a few shots of the first few changing leaves.

Once on the train to the publishing agency, she clutched her portfolio to her chest. She felt, somehow, that this was her last shot.

Beetlejuice, invisible in the seat next to her, was very preoccupied. He had no qualms about his plan, but he was beginning to worry that it wouldn't work.

After getting off the train and walking a block to a tall skyscraper, Lydia rode the elevator to the 9th floor. When she made it to the receptionist at the front desk, she felt so nervous that her hands were shaking.

"How can I help you?" the receptionist said not unkindly.

"My name is Lydia Deetz. I have an appointment with Richard."

"Let me go get him for you."

She sat down in an uncomfortable plastic chair to wait; a young man sitting in the chair across from her looked at her sympathetically.

"Trying for The City?" he asked. Surprised, Lydia nodded. "Well, good luck," he continued. "I hear they're tough."

"Miss Deetz?" the receptionist called.

"That's me…thank you," Lydia said before gathering her things and going to meet the manager.

Beetlejuice elected to stay behind. He'd just found the key to making his plan work; it was time to go to work.

Lydia left the office disappointed; the manager had agreed to hold onto her work, but he hadn't sounded very excited about it. It was another unfavorable meeting.

"Miss Deetz! Miss Deetz!" It was the man from the waiting room.

"Hello…did I forget something?"

"Yeah, you left your Metro Card on your seat," the man said, holding it out to her.

"Oh, thank you!" Lydia exclaimed, taking it and turning to go.

"Wait!" the man cried. "How did it go?"

Lydia seemed genuinely confused. "How did what go?"

"The meeting. Did they like your work?"

"Oh…" She was struck by the kindness of this stranger, who seemed to genuinely care about whether or not things had gone well for her. "I'm actually not sure; they're holding onto my work, but I doubt they'll actually use it."

"They held onto your work?" He laughed. "I've been writing for years and they've never agreed to 'hold onto my work' without publishing it! You'll be fine!"

"You really think so?" Lydia asked. "I mean, I didn't submit writing; I'm a photographer."

"Really? A photographer? Can I see some of your work?"

"Um, sure!" They moved over to a bus stop bench so Lydia could open her portfolio. "No one's ever asked about my photography before."

"That's a shame," the man said as he looked over the first few prints. "These are excellent!"

Lydia felt herself blushing despite her best efforts to check her pride. "They're my best ones; I took them two years ago."

As the man looked through her various photographs, the bus pulled up. Lydia casually glanced at it, then jumped when she realized which bus it was.

"What time is it?"

The man checked his watch.

"10:15."

"I have work at 11; I'll never make it in time!"

"I'll call you a cab."

"Oh, no, I couldn't...I can't…"

"Don't worry, I'll pay."

"But, but I just met you…I don't even know your name!"

The man looked at her. "It's Benjamin."

Realizing she had few other options, Lydia decided to take him up on his offer. He expertly hailed a cab and opened the door for her.

"Thank you so much, Benjamin," Lydia said as she stepped into the cab. "I want to do something to repay you."

"Sounds good," he replied. "Can I give you my number?"

Lydia nodded, and he scribbled it onto a slip of paper before depositing it and a wad of cash into her hands.

"For the cab, Miss Deetz. I look forward to hearing from you." He shut the door.

As the cab started up and began moving into the thick city traffic, Lydia rolled down the window and called to him, "You can call me Lydia!"

Beetlejuice, possessing the body of the man he called "Benjamin," watched her leave.

"I know, Babes. I know."

Possession was a risky procedure; to do it successfully, one had to keep in mind the behaviors, body language, and speech patterns of the person being possessed. There was an art to picking the brain for just the right information, finding the details and trivia that made up a person, but Beetlejuice was a master at this. He had access to the entire mind of one Gerald Harper, age 23, freelance writer; he knew his address, his phone numbers, and the current balance of his checkbook. He saw memories of the man's sixth birthday party, his first kiss, the first funeral he'd attended…everything, all there to be skimmed and analyzed and used for Beetlejuice's benefit.

In the case of a normal possession, Beetlejuice would only really be using the body to wreak havoc, scaring people and enacting just general haunting, but in this case, he was only using the body as a vehicle to interact with the living. To interact with Lydia.

It was a huge risk to take: while Neitherworld citizens could obtain special permission to visit the land of the living, possession of the living was expressly forbidden and was one of the worst crimes a dead man could commit. Offenders were punished severely, and Beetlejuice, with his already long list of crimes, could not afford to get caught, or he would be sent straight to the sandworms. He couldn't make any mistakes this time.

Lydia didn't know why she was so nervous; it was just a phone call! A phone call to a very kind and very attractive man who had liked her work and given her way too much money for a cab ride, but still just a phone call.

Lydia picked the phone up again; she had to thank him somehow. She couldn't repay him the cab fare, but she could offer to bring him with her on the photo shoot she had planned.

She dialed quickly. It rang four times before going straight to voicemail.

"Hello, you've reached Gerald Harper. Please leave your message after the tone."

Lydia hung up. Gerald? Had Benjamin given her the wrong number? She looked at the slip of paper. No one gave someone that much money for a cab ride and also gave a fake number. Maybe he had a roommate.

She called again and hurriedly left a message asking Benjamin to meet her at Central Park at four o'clock.

Hanging up the phone, she looked around the bookstore; it was busy with students rushing about trying to exchange the books they actually needed for the beginning of the semester. She walked back to the counter and moved the "This Register Closed" sign off her station; at least the wait to meet Benjamin would go by quickly.