Author's Note: So far, in this little adventure of fanfiction, I've gotten a grand total of (drum roll, please)… ONE REVIEW. That's a little disheartening, if you ask me. Look, I just want to know if what I'm posting is decent or not. Even a bad review would be welcome! My story is just so lonely! It has no one to share Christmas with! It has resorted to calling a sex hotline!

A review would be lovely, please and thank you.

All the best,

~Kirin

How strange is it, Bo thought, to one minute be practicing the Jupiter Symphony, then the next be careening down an unfamiliar world in an unfamiliar car with a barely familiar person.

It didn't worry her, though. She still felt safe with Beetlejuice, though she couldn't put her finger on what it was that made him so endearing to her.

Maybe it's the smell. He smelled like a wet baseball field, which brought pleasant memories to when Bo was little and would watch her older brothers play little league baseball. The oldest, Caleb, would stand on first base, alert and ready. The youngest, Allen, would sit in the outfield, scratching his ass, looking longingly at the snack shack.

She laughed at the memory and instinctively leaned in closer to Beetlejuice, who was driving Doomie.

She was still laughing when the car suddenly stopped, pitching her out of the passenger seat, through the air, and flat on the road.

BJ didn't even bother opening the door. Instead, he flew out of Doomie and landed next to Bo's sprawled body.

"Shit." He muttered. "Shit shit. I killed a breather. Shit. Shit shit. Bo! BO! Wake up! Please wake up!"

It took a few minutes of shaking, but Bo came to life, fluttering her eyelids. She looked at Beetlejuice.

"I'm alive, then?" she asked serenely.

"S'far as I can tell." Beetlejuice replied, still slightly shaken, even more so than Bo, who was sitting up now, calmly nursing her leg, which had so much blood running down it that Beetlejuice wanted to call up Quentin Tarantino to tell him he found him a new prop.

"You're going home, kid." Beetlejuice said gruffly, picking the girl up in his arms.

"Wait, wait! I haven't seen the rest of the Neitherworld!" Bo protested, trying to hop out of BJ's arms.

"Wait, wait! I don't give a crap!" Beetlejuice mocked. "You're going home. I'm not gonna let you bleed to death out here."

"Aww, you like me after all, huh?" Bo gushed, clapping her hands.

BJ dropped her.

"Come on, pick up the pace," he grumbled, walking away.

"I guess you just show it in your own way," Bo muttered, rubbing her backside.

Bo said the magic words (the correct ones this time), and they were soon back in her room. BJ couldn't help but notice little things about Bo that seemed…quite familiar. Not a lot. Not enough to make anyone suspect that Bo might not have always been a tall yellow-haired girl who lived in Indiana and didn't know SHIT about common sense.

But there were a few things. The way she walked, for one thing. Lyds used to walk with the same air of confidence. Like she was fine with the world judging, like she had no qualms with being different.

And Bo was different. Sure, she was a bit of a ditz, but there was something underneath that clouded look in her eyes that made Beetlejuice strongly suspect that Bo may not be so clueless after all.

"So what's your story, kid?" BJ asked, sitting on her bed, putting his nasty shoes up on the clean bedspread.

Bo didn't seem to mind. "Well, I was born in Indiana."

"Riveting."

"Yes, until we moved to Afghanistan."

Beetlejuice sat forward. Afghanistan? The place where they stone women for wearing lipstick? That country? "The hell for?" he asked.

Bo was idly playing with something on her vanity. "My dad had business there. I don't know what it was. We never really talked about it. You know, I'm half Nuristani."

"Nuri-what?"

Bo laughed. She seemed used to this reaction. "It's an ethnic group in Afghanistan. We're more light-skinned than the rest of the ethnic groups. Which" –she fingered her blonde hair—"explains the blondeness."

Beetlejuice yawned, his mouth opening much wider than necessary. Bo laughed again.

"Alright, alright, so my background isn't that interesting. What's yours? How did you die, if you don't mind my asking?"

Beetlejuice didn't reply right away. No one ever asked him this question…no surprise. Why should anyone give a fuck? He'd been dead so long it didn't really matter anymore. Yeah, he'd lived through a couple of plagues. But the fact was, his life had been so uninteresting, his mind so unwilling to devote any time remembering it…that he had actually forgotten about it. His death, too. Usually you remember these sort of details, like, "I drowned in a lake," or "It was a dark and stormy night," but Beetlejuice stopped giving a shit….so…he forgot.

"It's not important," he grumbled.

Bo stared at him. She had a very peculiar way of doing that, making him uncomfortable, like she knew what he was thinking. Beetlejuice shifted awkwardly, and Bo casually averted her gaze.

"Alright," she said cheerfully, her eyes turning from Beetlejuice to the mirror on the vanity. Her tone remained casual as she asked, "Ooh, is that a giant spider in the mirror?"

It was quite large. Though it didn't exactly look like most spiders. It had two eyes, and full lips, and Bo swore she saw tap dancing shoes on each of its eight spindly legs.

"Ginger!" Beetlejuice yelled. "The hell are you doing here?!"

"Oh, hi, Beetlejuice," the spider waved, speaking in a New York accent (A New York spider, Bo mused. Very interesting). "Jacques told me he saw you with a girl—a pretty girl, I might add—made me kinda curious, so I followed you. Is this her?"

"Yeah, yeah, it's her." Beetlejuice seemed in a hurry to get the spider out of sight, and he kept looking worriedly at Bo.

"It's alright," Bo said. "I'm not afraid. I'm Bo." She inched closer to the mirror, looking straight at the arachnid.

"Bo…like…"

"Like the girl who lost her sheep, yes." Bo sighed.

Ginger looked right in Bo's eyes. Very unsettling, thought Bo, to have a spider look in your eyes.

"You look familiar, dear," Ginger tilted her head to the side. "Have we met?"

"No." Beetlejuice cut in. "Nope. Nada. Never. Totally new to the planet." He looked utterly flustered, and both Bo and Ginger turned to look at him curiously.

Bo smiled her vague smile and said, "Maybe in a past life." She laughed at the thought.

And she didn't see Beetlejuice turn several shades lighter.