I want to say a big thanks to Pajamboree who helped me figure out a bit of dialogue at the end of this chapter.
As always please review, I love that people are stoked for the return of the story. If you want to make my millennium please review this story I read each and every review with a smile.
"Beetlejuice" whispered the voice and that got his attention. He felt as if he had been shocked by a thousand vaults of electricity as soon as the voice said his name. He instantly thought back to the mirror that had held him prisoner. He had to find whoever said his name before they said it two more times and banished him back into that damned mirror. He made a mental note to smash the bloody thing as soon as he could blame it on some sort of outside force. It would be too suspicious if he were to just smash it. No, it had to look natural when he did it, like the thing had fractured on its own. Or perhaps he could just tip the thing over and let it shatter under its own weight.
"Beetlejuice," the voice said again and he instantly knew the author of the word. It was Lydia he knew it as soon as his name left her lips that she was calling him. Again he felt as if a million vaults were coursing through him and in the same moment, he felt a pull deep inside him. He knew he had to move fast or he would be tugged back into that awful mirror again. He lept out of bed as if he had been stung by the mattress. He needed to silence Lydia before she said his name again. He would do anything not to go back into that dead space inside the mirror. That twilight space that was black as pitch, where nothing grew. That held him in a constant state of frustrated boredom.
He flicked his hand towards the direction of Lydia's bedroom and the next moment he had juiced himself into the room. He found himself standing in the doorway looking in at the dark room. He could see perfectly well in the darkened room. He could still see Lydia's form under the covers of the bed so he waltzed over to confront her about saying his name. He rounded the corner of the bed only to be surprised when he found that Lydia was sound asleep. Her face was tranquil as she slept. He had expected to see her up and around or pissed off for some reason. But he was baffled to find her well and truly asleep. He could see her murmur something into her pillow, her words muffled by the fabric.
"Beetle..." He heard her mutter to herself breathily and he closed the distance between them.
"Ah ah ah, none of that now babes" He uttered quickly reaching out to put his hand over her mouth.
"I'm here to stay after all we had a deal" He uttered softly, his fingertips lightly caressing their way across her beautifully full and soft lips. His touch was feather light and he doubted she could actually feel it but he could certainly feel her. The heat was coming off Lydia in waves that urgently lapped at Beetlejuice, warming his body in a very intoxicating way. He still felt that undeniable pull towards the woman, in fact, it felt stronger now than ever. He couldn't help wanting to touch her, it was like there was something about her that called to him on the most basic level. It felt almost primal, this undeniable almost instinctual pull towards Lydia and he had no idea why. She was human. Yes, she was a very attractive one, he would give her that. But, when it came down to it she was just that Human. A pitiful little mortal with little to no magic of her own. There shouldn't be anything special about her and yet here she was. He felt a magnetic, crackling pull towards the woman that got more intense every time they were close. Perhaps that was why he wanted to hold her close as she slept. Or why he had the urge to prey to all the gods and monsters that would listen, just so he could get the chance to kiss Lydia again. To explore every inch of her body and make her moan his name. He imagined Lydia finally saying his name three times, but with that godawful mirror smashed to pieces he had nowhere to be called back to. He could finally ravish the dark-haired beauty to his heart's content. He would happily worship her like the goddess she was if she only let him. It felt inevitable though, he could feel it in his bones. She would be his. Something fundamentally had changed between them. He couldn't put his finger on quite what that thing was but it called him to her all the same.
He was pulled from his thoughts as Lydia let out a pained noise in her sleep, her brow furrowing as she turned her face towards Beetlejuice's awaiting hand. She let out a little sigh of contentment as she pressed herself against his hand. He chuckled to himself at the image unfolding before him. He knew she was dreaming about him. She had to be, after all, she did mutter his name in her sleep. Once was a coincidence, twice less so and she had almost muttered it a third time but he stopped her.
"Show me what you're dreaming of babes" He uttered almost sweetly as he placed his hand against her cheek. Only he realised that she was burning hot, way hotter than a human was supposed to be. He hummed to himself as he tried to juice away Lydia's temperature so he could look in on her dreams uninterrupted.
He quickly abandoned his plan of spying in her dreams as he never messed with fever dreams. They were always beyond fucked up, the mad raving of a mind that was slowly cooking itself. He thought back to the strange otherwordly voice that had taken over Lydia as she swayed in the doorway of her room a few hours ago. It hadn't been her, not really. Something had been talking through her, using her to mess with him. Whatever it was it had caused her body to try and fight against it like it might do with any other invader be it a pathogen or ghost her body was trying to fight it off the only way it knew how.
He still couldn't trace even an iota of the magic which infuriated him to no end as he wanted to figure out who or what had the metaphorical balls to be messing with his girl. He would be damned if he let anyone else juice her. That was his job.
He moved Lydia's slick hair away from her forehead as he placed his hand against her skin so he could figure out how bad her temperature was. He instantly felt how clammy Lydia's skin was and he knew that wasn't a good sign. He tried to juice away the fever but he quickly found that his magic fell flat. Whatever had possessed her was way more powerful than he was, probably older too if he had to guess.
"Fuck" he muttered as he tried again to juice away the troubling fever, but once again his magic faulted.
Lydia let out a little sigh of contentment at the feeling of his hand against her forehead. Something in her unconscious form recognised the temperature difference and was very grateful for it. He did hesitate at the thought that he could simply juice away Lydia's clothing to help cool her down a little but over all it would do nothing to break the fever. His mind lingered on an image from so long ago he had forgotten exactly when it had happened. Even in his own mind time was more than a little fucked up. He had tried to follow the strings of certain events back to their origin, but he always ended up in a mess, more confused than when he had started.
Still, the image played heavily in his brain, a woman with her hair slicked back against her forehead from sweat. She groaned in her sleep as she tossed and turned going from feeling freezing to boiling hot in mere moments. He remembered a feeling of powerlessness that no matter what they had tried they could get the mortal woman's fever under control. He could slowly see the life slipping out of her and he remembered this being one of the first times he had felt truly and utterly powerless. He remembered holding her hand and whispering little incentives for her to get better. But, it was useless, nothing helped. He recalled the moment when she passed. He remembered the anger he had felt when she crossed over. At the time he didn't know about the neitherworld and its rules. All he had known was that SHE was gone and there was nothing he could do about it. The image faded from his mind leaving him with a bitter taste in his mouth. He could taste the rage he had once felt and it was addictive. It was little wonder that he had spent so much time in the afterlife just filled with an unending rage. Though he didn't feel like that anymore. Something over the last few days had changed him. He didn't know if it was for the better or worse but he could feel the change deep inside of him. He wondered if it was linked to the undeniable pull he felt towards Lydia. That had him practically foaming at the mouth to kiss her again.
"No, not her, not now" he muttered to anything that was listening. He would be damned if he was going to let the same thing happen to Lydia. He needed her alive and well if he had any chance at freedom. He also had to admit that he had grown rather fond of her despite the fact that she was death-impaired. He couldn't have her passing on because of some stupid fever. Were they still fatal nowadays? He couldn't remember, he wasn't exactly a whizz when it came to mortal sciences. Modern medicine evaded him as the whole thing moved way too quickly to catch up to. So he relied on his vast knowledge of lived and unlived experience instead. He could always read about it later
"Screw this" he muttered to himself, sliding under the blankets on Lydia's bed, taking his place beside the hot breather as if it was his rightful place. When he said he wanted to be in her bed he had very different intentions in mind. But, now he was here all he could focus on was trying to cool Lydia down. Most of his kinky thoughts left him as he was doing this purely to make Lydia better again. Though he would be amiss if some of those perverted thoughts didn't linger in his brain as he reached out to wrap his arms around Lydia. Acting as a sort of ghostly cooling blanket for the poor woman. He gently pulled her to him, in something of a rather large hug. He rested her head on his shoulder while his hands draped over her waist. He had to fight with himself to keep his hands where they were. He was desperate to explore Lydia's body and perhaps see if there was any visual indication as to why she had shut down their kiss so hard. But groping Lydia while she was both asleep and sick it crossed a clear line even for him and he was a bonafide sex pest. Still, he couldn't help but enjoy how soft her skin was and the feeling of warmth he got from her. It soaked into him like a sponge, warming his body up to almost body temperature.
Lydia turned over in her sleep and for a moment Beetlejuice froze terrified that she would awake to find him dressed in just his boxers in her bed. He was unsure of what she would think of their oddly intimate embrace. But, he didn't find out as Lydia simply buried her head against his shoulder with a slight sigh. He made a mental note to scarper before dawn as he really didn't fancy spending the next few years rotting away inside the mirror. So he decided that this would be one thing Lydia would never know. He couldn't have her know of this moment of softness otherwise he would hear no end of it. He was the Ghost with the Most after all, he had a reputation to uphold and if anyone knew that he spent the night simply holding Lydia instead of doing any number of perverted things to her then he would lose valuable street cred.
Still, he rather liked the slight tickle of Lydia's breath against his throat. It was oddly comforting knowing she was still there. He reached out and slightly to stroke Lydia's dark hair. He wasn't sure why he did it but it felt soothing to both of them. He was rewarded by a slight moaning hum of contentment coming from Lydia. He couldn't stop himself from being aroused at the sound so once again the itch reared its ugly head. He tried his hardest to ignore the semi that sprung up to press against the thin material of his boxer shorts. He tried to angle himself away from Lydia but he couldn't do without waking her up, so his tumescence pressed against Lydia lustfully.
Lydia proceeded to mutter something that sounded a little like a little "thank you" against his neck. He chuckled to himself careful not to wake the sleeping woman as he got comfortable.
He was hit with an unusual feeling of contentment as he continued to stroke Lydia's hair. He inhaled deeply enjoying the scents of cherries and caramel that danced from Lydia's skin. It was intoxicating and all he wanted was to hold her like this forever. As he had never felt this level of serenity before, it was like everything else had been switched off and it was just them. Lydia felt like home, he realised and that thought shook him to the core. He wanted to go back to when things had been simple. When he had wanted to use her, abuse her and take what he wanted of her. He had wanted to dump her after using every orifice she had for his own sick and twisted pleasure. However, something drastic had changed between them and now he wanted to make her happy. Honest to god happy! He longed to see her eyes light up when she was happy and see her excitedly babble about something or other. He wished he could be angry for the sudden change but he found he was glad of it. Here he was with the most beautiful woman in the world asleep in his arms. He couldn't help but feel satisfied with his current predicament. Sure it would feel a lot better if Lydia had fallen asleep on him after a night of ravaging each other until she was too tired to move. But, for now, this would do nicely. It was rather cosy under the blankets and Beetlejuice could easily see himself spending many a night here with Lydia. It felt kind of perfect he had to admit and he would do anything to spend another night in bed with her. He didn't care what it took he was going to make her his once and for all.
He found himself drifting off into a light sleep as he held her close. For the first time in who knows when Beetlejuice began to dream. He usually didn't dream, it was part of his condition he could sleep but he couldn't dream. At least not without having ingested heavy amounts of Neitherworld narcotics. Even then his dreams were a fragmented haze of little pieces from a life far gone. Tonight however he dreamed of Lydia. He dreamed of the smile on her face as they spent many a night together. He felt content to hold her to him as he claimed her as His.
He continued to hold her close until he awoke as the begining rays of dawn darted over the horizon. He hated to leave her but her fever had broken at some point during the night so he was no longer needed and Lydia couldn't know he had ever been in her bed, lest he be banished once again. He silently got out of bed and floated back into the guest bedroom. Instantly he felt a strong sense of loss at the missing warmth of Lydia's body.
Lydia stirred in her sleep the room was freezing and she usually wouldn't mind this but she could have sworn she felt something soft yet cold pressing against her skin. She muttered something sleepily and turned over in bed, finding the spot next to her felt like a patch of ice. She pressed her face into it, as she found the temperature oddly soothing. It was like the cold side of the pillow, but better. Her tired and sleep-addled brain recognised something as she breathed deeply into the pillow as she cuddled it to her face. her arms wrapping around it protectively as her body pressed against it. This pillow had the scent of cigarette smoke, a zing of something unmistakably green like the smell of spilt chlorophyll. There was a certain familiar mustiness that reminded her of heavy rain after a fire. Petricore and smoke, that's what she could quantify the smell as. Like the dregs of a dying bonfire after it had begun to fizzle out in the rain. Discarded cigarette butts lining the protective brickwork of the now-smothered fire. She could just about smell an undertone of mint somewhere in the delicious smokey and rather comforting scent that she couldn't quite place. However, it felt oddly homely to her. It was the kind of scent that she could easily fall asleep to once surrounded by the slight nicotine bite that lingered ever so slightly under the scent of rain. She cuddled the pillow closer, leaning her head on the edge of it as she began to drift off back to sleep. Yet a single thought lingered on the edge of her mind. It was an instant one at that, as it intruded past the hazy walls of sleep and into her conscious brain.
"Him" the thought began "The pillow smells like him" That certainly got her attention and she yawned as she tried to bat away the thought so she could fall back asleep.
"If the pillow smells like him, then it means beetlejuice was in my bed" That did it. Lydia's eyes flicked open, and she half expected to see glowing emerald green eyes boring into her through the darkness. But, she found that her bed was empty; there was no ghostly visitor lying next to her in bed. Yet there was still an unearthly chill to the bed covers; if he wasn't here now, he had been there recently. Yes, it got cold at night here, especially when frost was thick, and most of if not all of Winter River was covered in a thin glittering layer of ice. She knew if she looked, the feathery fractile patterns of ice would have grown over her window. She noted the slight imprint on the bedding as if someone had just left the bed. She honestly didn't know what to think, why had he been in her bed? How long had he been there? Then anger flared up inside her as she realised he could have done something to her. It must explain her dream as she had an incredibly vivid dream last night. Dreams of him and how wonderful it felt to kiss him, to feel his arms wrapping around her naked body. It felt amazing to feel his cold body pressing against hers. She remembered each and every detail of that damned dream. She recalled the sensation of his swirling tongue against her most sensitive spot. Her hands were hopelessly lost, tangled in his soft hair. She was blindsided by the intense nature of her orgasm as she violently came undone by the demanding flicks of his delightfully forked tongue. She remembered the thrill she felt once her Ghost had undressed with a click of his fingers. She remembered looking him up and down and she thought how sexy he looked. His emerald eyes were a blaze of a dangerous cadmium. She couldn't help but moan at the feeling of his aching erection pressing against her longingly. However, he quickly found his place as he slipped into her awaiting slickness with a rough thrust that made her see stars and ache for more. He plastered kisses against the inside of her neck, lingering at the sensitive hollow where her neck met her shoulders as if he were reading a map of everything that turned her on. her She vividly remembered the feeling of his manhood filling her as he paced out a furious rhythm that made her core ache for more. She came undone again as he finally came inside her, painting her inner sanctum with his ghostly seed.
To say the dream had been down and dirty was an understatement and Lydia could feel a delightful throbbing of pure need that sparked between her legs. She ached to feel his touch. Yet she felt betrayed by her body. She shouldn't be thinking these kinds of things about him. She shouldn't feel the urge to kiss him and let him take her to bed so he could ravage her all night long. The dream couldn't have just been the wonderings of a fevered mind. that was hopelessly turned on by the titular Ghost with the Most. No, He had to have something to do with this. He must have Juiced her or perhaps he had invaded her dreams? She knew certain ghosts could do that sort of thing and no doubt it would be easy for him.
How dare he make her have such a powerful and erotic dream
"Beetlejuice...Beetlejuice..." Lydia chanted slowly. She heard a muffled cry and the sound of the ghost quickly trying to reach her, tripping over his own feet in the process.
"What babes no don't" he called but she didn't listen
"Beetlejuice" she repeated and there was a slight thunk noise as the ghost was sent back into the mirror.
"Babes why" she heard his voice echoing from the mirror. For some reason, there was always an icy otherwordly reverb to his voice whenever he was in the mirror. Lydia got out of bed and sidled up to the mirror practically bristling with rage and annoyance.
"Oh, I don't know probably because you were in my fucking bed. You are such a pervert, what did you do to me?" she asked feeling more than a little violated that his hands had probably been all over her while she slept. She had always been a deep sleeper so it wasn't a surprise that she hadn't woken up from his touch.
"Nothing that you didn't want babes. You called out for me, remember" he said coyly. He refused to admit that he had been in her bed because she had been sick.
"Look just tell me why you were in my bed and I promise to let you back out. No harm no foul." Lydia said with a sigh as she secretly hoped against hope that her blush would fade and the distraction would work. As she really couldn't have Beej know exactly how much his dream had affected her.
"Well if you promise" His eyes lingered on her as he seemed to study her for a moment before he began.
"I was in your bed because you called me in your sleep and then i realised you were burning up with a fever. So I climbed into bed to keep you cool" he admitted though he was already regretting being all gentlemanly. He should have stuck to his first instinct and spied in on Lydia's dreams. Because if her blush and embarrassed nature was anything ti go by the dream she had experienced had been one hell of a kinky one. He felt disappointed that he missed it.
"So instead of waking me up and giving me some tylanol you what, groped me in my sleep instead? That sick" Lydia seethed as she glared daggers at the ghost.
Beej glared straight back at Lydia but he didn't want to admit everything he had realised during his time spent cosy at Lydia's side. Hell, he didn't really want to admit it to himself despite how profound the realisation had been.
"I thought you were really sick alright so I tried to cool you down. My er... My juice wasn't working...whatever took hold of you there was no juicing it away" he explained awkwardly he didn't want to admit just how weak his mojo was.
"But, you were burning up like really burning up. I was surprised steam wasn't coming out of your ears Babes. You know I happen to be quite cool so I helped stop your fever. It's one of the perks of being with a dead guy after all. I'm a walking ice cube" he said almost proudly.
"You can't tell me it didn't work. The fever is gone" he said, emerald eyes glaring deeply into hers.
"Now let me out will you, this mirror is seriously cramping my style," he said as he straightened and dusted off his suit.
"I know I said i would let you out but you know what. I lied!" Lydia hissed. "I can't believe you groped me in my sleep," she said with a shudder she now not only felt alienated by her own body's natural process but she felt as if she had been violated in her sleep on top of that.
"You enjoyed it, why else would you be making such lovely noises every time I touched you?" he hissed back, his forked tongue doing much of the work.
"That was about...er something else" Her pulse was in between her legs again as she recalled the dream again where she had explored exactly what Beej could do with that tongue of his. She blanched for a second before her blush bloomed harder, turning the tips of her ears a delicious shade of pink.
"Oh do tell Babes. I know it must have been absolutely delicious. But, anytime you want the real thing; I can really make you scream" He growled. His voice took on a deep, dangerous rumble that made it sound like a threat and a promise all at once. Lydia ached at the thought. She had been about to quip straight back at him but they were rudely interrupted by the shrill crying of her alarm clock. She needed to get going if she was going to get ready in time to pack up her gear, coffins and all to head off to set.
"Is that a promise?" Lydia asked the air as she headed off towards the bathroom for her morning shower.
"Oh yes babes, I promise" Hehe uttered back with a satisfying rumble.