A/N: Um, sorry…? Real Life was very hectic the last three months. Anyway, here is the last bit I pretty much had all written up. Yay, more Adam and Barb!

6: Attenuation

It was some hours later that Lydia managed to drag herself into the house, having learned the hard way how to disappear into the ether and then force her ghostly form to re-manifest. She was still feeling a little thin around the edges, and not in any mood to deal with man or beast, living or dead.

…Which is probably why she interrupted the Maitlands bickering in the living room near one of the largest holes in the wall.

"You're putting in the dry wall backwards, Adam!"

"Who's done this more often, me or you?" he replied, his typically good-natured tones somewhat strained as he attempted to patch over the unsightly mass of wires and struts left exposed. He was wearing his plaid shirt, like always. Lydia must have lost her grip on it when she exploded.

Wearily Lydia asked, "What are you doing?"

Hearing her voice, Barbara looked up and then fluttered over to Lydia with a gasp. "Lydia, I can see right through you! What happened? Can I get you anything? Water, cocoa maybe? I think we still have some packets left... Adam can take care of this."

"Good to know," he grunted.

And with that, Lydia found herself herded into the attic, bundled into a blanket, and seated on the couch with Barbara perched on the armrest near the electric kettle that had been secreted away to save it from the grasp of the movers.

"I think I'd rather take the last beer downstairs in the fridge," Lydia muttered, flicking the little stale marshmallows around the steaming mug she held.

"You're underage!" Barbara exclaimed.

Nonplussed, Lydia just looked at her for a moment, then grabbed one of the older-looking ghost's hands and held it to the side of the kettle despite vociferous protests. "Is it actually burning you?" Lydia asked.

"No, it must have cooled off," Barbara said, puzzled.

"In half a minute? Get real. It doesn't hurt because you don't have skin that can be burnt, or nerve endings to scream at a brain that isn't there. I'm not eighteen anymore." Lydia finally let the other woman go. "And it's not like I can actually get drunk off a beer."

"I know it's not 'cool' to say this, but even one beer could make someone with your bodyweight tipsy. I mean, when Adam and I went out-"

"Denial much?" Lydia interrupted. "Bodyweight schmodyweight! I could swan dive into a lake of whiskey and not get sloshed."

Barbara kneaded the hand that hadn't been burnt with her other and took a deep breath. "I know we're dead, Lydia. It's just..."

"Yeah, I know." Lydia drank the cocoa, tasting none of it on her illusory tongue. Some days, just the thought that she couldn't remember how chocolate tasted was enough to make her cry. That is, if she could remember how to cry.

"Do you want to tell me what happened?" Barbara asked slowly, picking at the skirt of her dress.

If Lydia hadn't felt terrible before, she definitely did now. Clearly, Lydia's methods of coping with her afterlife were dysfunctional at best. She ought to let the Maitlands keep their denial as long as possible. Their belief in their continuing humanity was powerful in itself. But she had been alone in her head for a long time and it was hard to remember the point of all that stuff.

Beer at least fizzed. It was easier to pretend with beer. And it would annoy that...that-!

"That breather Benjamin Joos is what happened," Lydia bit out, and found herself engulfed in a huge hug for the first time since...when? When was the last time anyone had ever hugged her?

Barbara said fiercely, "I'm not going to let that pervert anywhere near you again, I promise! You just let us take care of scaring him away."

Wide-eyed, Lydia tentatively returned the hug. ...Wait, what? "Pervert?" she asked, pushing out of the embrace. "And how are you going to scare him, by viciously repairing his environment?"

"Well, he tried something on you last night, that's why you're upset, isn't it? And it serves him right if we fix up the place. Throw out all his beer bottles. Let's see him ignore that!"

Lydia smacked her forehead into her hand, shaking her head. Boy, was he in for it now. Oh no, not a clean house!

"By the way, something strange happened this morning - Adam's plaid shirt vanished! Then, about an hour ago, it just reappeared as if he was wearing it the whole time. Do you know what might have happened?"

"Um..." Lydia said, freezing in place. "Not really?"