Best Foot Forward
by
Owlcroft

Mutual adoration in an unusual place.

Prince Vince decided to celebrate his 21st birthday by throwing the Neitherworld's largest, most lavish party and he invited all of his friends and many civically-important people. But Beetlejuice and Lydia got their invitation in person.

"We'd be honored, I'm sure," said Lydia after opening (with some difficulty) the heavy envelope engraved with the royal arms and legs. "You must be looking forward to this a lot, Prince Vince."

The prince bowed low. "My fair Lydia –" a muted growl came from the kitchen, where a six-weeks-married ghost was putting together a lunch that his wife could eat, "it would be my honor for you – and Beetlejuice – to attend. Please," he made an abortive movement to take her hand, which she ignored politely, "say that you will? Both of you," he hastily added.

Lydia smiled at him and nodded. "Of course, we'd be happy to help you celebrate." She glanced at her husband, who had just managed to join them.

"Sure," he said, just a tiny bit grumpy, "we'll be there."

"Oh, good," the prince was still new at smiling, but he managed to produce one. "All my friends together at the same time. I just know it'll be fun!"

Once their visitor had departed, Beetlejuice turned to his wife before she could say anything. "Sorry 'bout that. I guess I still get a little . . . uneasy," he shrugged, "when guys admire you too much, pay you so much attention. Insecurity, right? Hey, stick to what you do best – and I'm the best at being insecure!"

"Yes, you certainly are," she agreed.

"Well, I didn't know you could hear me!" He shuffled a little. "Didn't mean for you to hear me."

"It's all right." She put a comforting hand on his arm. "It's probably just a reflex. You did just fine when we were on that tour with the prince." She thought for a moment. "I do know what it's like. Remember, I've been jealous, too. But I never will be again." She slid her hand up and down his arm. "Not now. And we are still in the honeymoon phase, you know, where we just want to be together all the time."

Beetlejuice grinned at her and encircled her waist with the arm she wasn't caressing. "You say that like it's a bad thing."

Lydia grinned back at him. "We can be as bad as we want," she said slyly.

ooooo

For an important and formal occasion like the prince's birthday gala, Lydia created a long gown slit up the sides to her knees. The material was lightweight and clingy in a swirling pattern of black, lavender, and gold with gold wedge sandals to match; she even painted her fingernails and toenails in a matte gold. Beetlejuice had watched her and considered his own red nails, thinking hard. But he eventually decided he liked his traditional red better and declined her offer to share. He wasn't wearing anything special for the occasion, but his shirt was the same shade as the lavender in his wife's gown.

Lydia finished fussing with her husband's tie and told him, "Don't mess that up now!" She stepped back to admire him and he preened a bit. "Very nice," she murmured. "But I wonder how a charcoal gray would look instead of black."

"Hey, no. It's too late to change things now." He eyed her uncertainly. "Unless you want me to use my juice?"

"No," she decided. "The black and white sets off the shirt better anyway. You look beautiful." She waited for his grimace of distaste and shook her head at it. "Cute? Adorable? Charming?" she suggested.

"You're the beautiful one," he said quietly, ducking his head. "Gorgeous, in fact. When you're all dressed up as advertising for your designs, people look at you in a way that makes me feel funny. Kind of proud but worried." He lifted his head to look into her eyes. "Insecure. Again. How could somebody like me ever have attracted you? I mean, just look at you! And then . . . look at me."

Lydia gave him a raised eyebrow and a wry smile, then waited.

After another few seconds, he sighed. "Yeah. I know. Really, I do. I guess it's just harder to believe sometimes, okay?"

"Maybe another month of married life might convince you? Maybe the second wedding, in my old world?" She tugged him forward, messing up his tie herself. "Or this?" and she kissed him firmly.

When the kiss ended, Beetlejuice asked her plaintively, "Do we have to go to this thing? Can't we just . . . stay home?"

Lydia laughed at that. "We do get to come back tonight, you know. And there'll be free food," she wheedled.

"Okay," he sighed. "But we don't stay too late."

"That's a deal," she told him. "Oh, but let me fix your tie again!"

ooooo

The palace was decorated in the prince's favorite shades of black, dark looming gray, and midnight blue and the staff had been clearing decades worth of mold and moss from the walls for weeks before the party. They were delighted that Prince was now nearly always in a good mood – well, not actually depressed, anyway.

The birthday boy was greeting everyone at the main door of the palace and beamed when he saw Lydia and Beetlejuice. "Welcome to my celebration!" He shook Lydia's hand enthusiastically then reached for her husband's. "It's so good to see you here again, and my dear Lydia – that dress is spectacular! I assume it's your design?"

This attracted attention from those people standing near and a brief, spirited conversation ensued. Beetlejuice used the opportunity to scope out the food options and spotted Ginger and Jacques on a landing halfway up the stairs that wound up from the main entrance. Reluctantly he returned their waves, then Ginger pointed at a silver tray being carried around the room by a palace servant and motioned for Beetlejuice to send it up to them. He frowned at her, then took the tray from the astonished server and quickly scarfed the entire serving of appetizers. Grinning at his two annoyed friends, he motioned for his wife to join him and escorted her up the stairway.

Putting two of her claws on her midriff, Ginger scowled at Beetlejuice then smiled and bobbed her head at Lydia. "Honey, those shoes are gorgeous! Are you designing shoes now?"

Beetlejuice pulled Jacques away from the shoe chatter and asked, "They do have more food coming out, right?" He waved a hand and four glasses of champagne floated over to their small group.

"If vous had not been so greedy, we might all 'ave 'ad some food now," the skeleton groused.

"Ah, quit whining. We can always check out the kitchen and tell them Vince wants more stuff. Hey, wait a minute." Beetlejuice craned over the marble balustrade. "There's another right there." He reached down twelve feet to lift another platter of canapés up. "See? More coming out all the time!" He cackled in delight. "Gorgonzola-bluebottle pinwheels – my favorite!"

Ginger looked around just in time to see him extend his long stripey tongue and lick his lips in anticipation. She told him sardonically, "You know, I thought you'd changed. Become this . . . this nicer person."

"Me?" He took only half a dozen pinwheels and gulped them down immediately. "Did you just call me . . . you know, that word?" He looked at her in disbelief.

Lydia laughed at the act they put on whenever they met and went off to greet Barry MeNot.

Beetlejuice saw another lackey with more hors d'oeuvres and stretched an arm over several peoples' heads to snatch that platter, too. This time, he offered it elaborately to Ginger first and she, no fool, took two in each of six hands. "Thanks," she told him, muffled by a mouthful of puffed sea snails.

His own mouth crammed full, he merely nodded and offered the remaining few to Jacques, who sighed and accepted gratefully.

"You know," said the pink spider thoughtfully sucking her claws clean, "you have changed since you and Lydia were married. I guess maybe it's since the two of you met; it just took a while." She ignored the ghost's frown and went on. "She's been a good influence on you. It's a shame her folks don't know you two tied the knot yet."

"They will, big wedding next month, you're invited," he muttered, clearly thinking about licking the platter for crumbs, but, casting a glance at his wife, deciding not to.

"See, that's what I mean," Ginger pointed at him and the silver platter. "You think of Lydia first now, all the time, not just sometimes. It's all about her." She looked over her shoulder at Barry MeNot and Lydia sipping champagne.

Beetlejuice also looked at Lydia, set his own glass down in mid-air, which caused great confusion for the rest of the evening, and went to his wife's side. She turned and, smiling, said "Beej! Barry wants me to make a dress just like this one for his sister Carrie!" and spread her arms along the balustrade to show it off better. As she did, she extended one gold-embellished foot and Beetlejuice's gaze fastened on it.

He was frozen for an instant then gave into an impulse that he couldn't fight off – he knelt before her and took her foot in his hand and bent to kiss it tenderly. Then he looked up at her in adoration to see her eyes wide, her mouth slightly open in a stunned expression and he blushed deep pink. He looked away, shut his eyes, and vanished in a flash of bat, tin can, and striped blushing heart.

Lydia stood, still stunned, and watched them dissipate then cried, "I have to find him!" and darted off.

Once down on the main floor, she saw that the massive front door was open but she spotted a figure clad in black and white in the alcove at the palace entrance, unmoving in the shadows at the back. As she approached, he turned slightly away, head down.

"Beej," she said, touching his arm lightly, "you're upset, aren't you? Please don't be."

"I embarrassed you," he muttered. "Didn't even think where we were or anything."

Lydia tugged him around to face her and put her arms around his neck. "You did not embarrass me, not one bit. And you shouldn't be embarrassed yourself, either. You did surprise me, though. Beej, I was just surprised, and . . . and I can't even think how to tell you how much that meant to me. You are totally adorable, do you know that?" When he shook his head, she gave him a mock scowl. "Not just adorable, but sweet and dear and precious to me. My Beej, my own darling Beej."

Beetlejuice sighed and took her in his arms. "Didn't mean to. I just . . . couldn't help myself." He was no long muttering, but still abashed.

"It was possibly the most romantic thing you've ever done. It was the most touching thing you've ever done. And if you're embarrassed by that, then . . ." She picked up her skirts and started to kneel, reaching for one of his feet while telling him, "Juice that boot off."

He caught her up at once, yelping, "No, don't!" and they looked into each other's eyes. After a moment, he said quietly, "Ginger said I think of you first. And I do. But sometimes . . . I'm still not sure I'm doing things right – the way you want them." He shrugged a little, frowned a little. "But you'd tell me, wouldn't you? If you wanted me to do things different? I mean –"

"My darling Beetlejuice," she murmured, "did anyone ever tell you you talk too much?"

ooooo

"Where are Lydia and Beetlejuice?" asked the prince. "I want to thank them for the thoughtful present they sent. It's a photo montage of our music tour." Jacques and Ginger both pointed mutely to the corner where Beetlejuice and Lydia were wrapped in each other's arms, kissing blissfully.

"You know," said Prince Vince thoughtfully, "I could thank them later."