Dream Come True
by
Owlcroft

Sap Alert: There is a dangerous amount of mushiness in this story. You have been warned!

Lydia had begun weeping herself once Beetlejuice had started, out of sympathy, relief, and joy. Now they'd both mopped their eyes, caught their breath, calmed down the merest bit, and managed to cuddle together in the big armchair in Lydia's office to exchange endearments and kisses.

"You beautiful, precious, amazing treasure," he said softly. "I'm still afraid to believe it's true. Heart's joy, how did you manage it?" he murmured against her ear, then planted a tiny kiss on it.

She put one hand on his face to turn it toward her for a long, lingering kiss. "I think you had a little something to do with it, too."

He smiled at her, then a worried expression appeared. "You said you're okay – perfectly healthy. Tell me that part again," he pleaded.

"I'm fine. Honestly, my sweet darling, I'm healthy and so very happy." She beamed up at him, toying with his tie. "I don't think I could be any happier than this." After thinking for a moment, she added, "Until the baby's born anyway."

"Do you know . . . I mean, not that it matters, but did the doctor say if it was a boy or a girl? Can they even tell yet?"

Lydia shook her head. "She did offer the test, but I thought we'd rather not know – that it be a surprise." She looked suddenly looked uncertain and pulled away from him slightly. "Was that right? Would you rather know?"

"Nuh-uh." He pulled her back against his heart and kissed the top of her head. "Doesn't matter. Not a single bit. It's our baby, our child, and that's what's so . . . unbelievable. So incredible. My very dearest," and he began to tear up again then laughed for sheer joy.

She laughed along with him, snuggling as close as she could. "I thought maybe you'd really want a boy. Doesn't every father want a son?" She couldn't help grinning up at him. "And you're going to be such a great father."

Beetlejuice sobered at once. "I will?"

"Of course you will! Beej, my darling, you'll be the most wonderful father any child ever had." Lydia gave him her best mock scowl, then ruined it with a kiss. "And you should have a son. Be honest, don't you really want a boy?"

"Um, actually . . . you really want to know the truth?" He took a breath, then hesitated until she tugged at his tie, and blurted, "I want a little girl. Not that it matters!" he added in almost the same breath. "But," he shrugged, "I sort of always pictured a little girl – with big brown eyes and long black hair. Like somebody else I can think of," and he nuzzled her forehead.

"You are such a darling," she told him, then admitted, "I always thought of a little boy. With blond hair and a wicked sense of humor. But I'll be so very happy with whichever we have. It really doesn't matter, does it, sweetheart?"

After a few more kisses and several snuggles, Lydia asked, "So what shall we name him? Do you have any ideas, any favorites?"

Beetlejuice stared at her. "Are you serious? Heart's delight, of course we'll name her Ethelburga." As she crowed with laughter, he went on. "She'll be the only Ethelburga in her class. Except that might be a boy's name." He frowned in mock puzzlement, then grinned at her. Then suddenly, he caught his breath and his embrace tightened a bit. "Dearest, the baby – are you sure . . ."

"Yep." She grinned up at him. "You can't get out of it now. Too late, Papa Beej."

He didn't return her grin. "I mean, do we know . . . can you be sure . . . our baby's human?"

She shook her head at him affectionately. "I made sure. The doctor might have thought I was a little weird, but I did ask her if the baby was normal and human."

Beetlejuice sighed in relief and leaned his head on hers. "Thank you." He kissed her hair. "For so much, my dearest one."

"Beej, let's not tell anyone else just yet. Not even our parents." Lydia rubbed his nose with her own. "I want it to be just us for a while. If that's all right with you."

"Sure." He considered that for a moment. "Not looking forward to telling my folks. You know they've been hoping. I guess your folks have, too. They'll all get so excited and mushy." He gave a slight shudder.

"Oh, like you haven't been mushy yourself for the last half hour. You big fraud, you." Lydia nestled her head under his chin. "Yes, I think both sets of parents have been hoping. Well, I know mine have and yours gave us the cradle for our wedding present. Our baby's going to have such adoring grandparents."

"Hmm. Not a big family, are we? I mean, we're both only children –"

"Beetlejuice!" She looked at him in pretended shock.

"Well, I like to pretend, okay?" He snuggled her back under his chin. "But not a lot of aunts and uncles and cousins and stuff."

"Well, quality is better than quantity." Lydia broke off what she'd begun to say next, then sighed. "And the quality on my side isn't all that good."

"What? Chuck's just fine and Deels . . . well, she's not that bad once you get used to her."

"But the rest of them aren't anything to write home about; they're all stuffed shirts, except for Uncle Clyde and Aunt May."

"Yeah, I sort of actually liked them." Beetlejuice considered for a few seconds, then added, "I think they sort of . . . maybe liked me, too."

Lydia nodded. "I know they did, especially after that vacation I spent with them." She rubbed her face against his shirt. "I wish I knew them better. Tell me about yours. I've met Uncle Sid and Aunt Irma a couple of times, and Uncle Victor and Aunt Lucy at your parents' house. But didn't you tell me your grandmother was an elephant? Is that kind of the way Auntie Em is a cow?"

"Yep. You know, Grandma used to call me her little meadow muffin," he said with a reminiscent smile.

"But why are some of them not . . . human?" She tilted her head in question, raising her eyebrows.

"I'm not human. You mean why are they . . . animalistic? Instead of being more like humans? Well, we're just born what we are – nobody knows exactly why. I knew a kid in school who was a squid." He scowled at that brief memory, then went back to cuddling his wife. "But two skeletons will probably have skeleton kids. Donny and I take after Ma; Ma's a ghost. But Pop's a monster."

"Oh, Beej," she said with a deprecating look.

"No, I mean that's what he is, his . . . classification sort of thing." A shrug. "He's just that sort of person. We're all people, just different. I mean, look at . . . Donny."

She saw his grimace and clasped him tightly. "I know he looks like you, but sometimes it's hard to believe you're brothers."

"Yeah," he replied, ill at ease. "He does look like me but we're so different. It's what I'm trying to explain. People here are just people, no matter what they look like or how clean and nice and – yecch!"

Lydia chuckled comfortably. "I don't think we'll have a problem teaching our child not to be all clean and nice and yechh!"

Beetlejuice jerked back from her and stared, eyes wide. "But . . . but don't you want our kid to be . . . you know, all human and clean and stuff? You don't want her to be like me."

She pulled him back against her and chuckled again. "Yes, I do. I want him to be generous and funny and sensitive –"

"What?!"

"And smart and loving and creative and brave –"

"What?!"

"And trustworthy and kind and courteous and thrifty and all the other things in the Boy Scout oath." She laughed at his outraged expression.

But then his expression changed to one of humility and need and adoration. "And she can be all that and never come close to how wonderful and amazing and incredible her mother is." He leaned his face against her hair and whispered. "Je suis à toi et je t'aime tellement."

As he so often did when she told him she loved him, she answered, "Me, too," and kissed him and they stayed curled in each other's embrace long into the evening.