Date Night
by
Owlcroft
"I need something to do Saturday night – something that gets me out of the house until late." Lydia slouched against the bedpost moodily.
"Why?" asked Beetlejuice, involved in figuring out her Mystic Square puzzle.
"It's their –" she nodded toward the door, "fifteenth anniversary and Mother's planning a special meal and hinting about how they wouldn't mind if I had 'other plans' that night. You know, how maybe I could get a date or something." She frowned, still slouching. "I could tell them I have a study night planned with Bertha and Prudence, but we don't really need a study night." She sighed. "Maybe I could just go to the library until they close." Without being obvious, she sneaked a peek at her friend to see if he would react to her not-very-subtle hints.
"Well," he looked suddenly self-conscious and uncertain, but soldiered on gamely, "if you wanted to go someplace with me, we could . . . sort of, if you want, call it a date." He avoided her gaze with great concentration on the puzzle.
She smiled to herself but shook her head. "I would really rather be with you, but I know Saturday night you were going to going to look through the landfill for a new couch. And I know how much you were looking forward to that, so – really, Beej, it was nice of you to offer –"
"No, hey! I can do that any day of the week! Really, I wouldn't mind . . . you know, taking you somewhere, doing something fun that night." He shrugged casually and flipped the puzzle aside. "Soooo . . . we've got a date, right?" He threw one quick glance at her, but it was a glance that told her everything she was hoping for.
Lydia smiled gratefully at him. "How can I thank you enough? And you get to pick where we go – anyplace you want. It's the least I can do."
ooooo
After thinking quite a lot about the upcoming date Beetlejuice had remembered when he'd won the lottery and taken Lydia out to dinner, so he asked her to wear that same dress again. She agreed happily, after ascertaining that he also would 'dress up a little'.
When he did appear in the mirror that evening, he was wearing the same suit as he had then, although he hadn't re-done his hair 'Donny-style' this time. He was holding something behind his back and, as she called him through, presented her with a small bouquet of viper's bugloss.
"I figured, you know," he said, adjusting his jacket nonchalantly but looking a bit shy, "since it's supposed to be a date and all."
"They're beautiful," she exclaimed, then added, teasing, "just like you."
To her surprise, he didn't disclaim, but the shyness became more pronounced and he tugged at his collar. "Well, I had to . . . you know . . . I didn't want to embarrass you or anything."
She took his arm and tugged him toward the mirror. "You couldn't do that if you tried," she said seriously.
Once in the Neitherworld, Beetlejuice had Doomie take them to Peter Boogar's Steak House where they had a reservation for dinner.
"Ooh, this place is famous." Lydia took it all in with wide eyes. "I'm glad we got all dressed up tonight." She smiled at the waiter who held her chair for her.
"Get whatever you want, babes. Tonight's on me. After all, it's a date, right?" Beetlejuice grinned across the table at her. "They're famous for their snorterhouse. But you should stay away from the rump steak. If you know what I mean." He flickered his eyebrows rapidly.
Laughing, she handed him her menu. "I'll just let you order for the both of us."
He smiled proudly, and promptly told the waiter they'd have the prime rib dinner for two. "Beef," he specified with a quick, meaningful look at Lydia; then he handed something folded to the waiter who smiled unctuously and nodded.
Moments later, the waiter returned with a vase for Lydia's flowers and nodded significantly to her date while mouthing the word 'beef'.
Beetlejuice returned the nod, then asked Lydia, "So, what do you think?"
"I think this is a really expensive place, Beej. We could've gone somewhere else." She looked around at the elegant restaurant.
"Hey, when a guy takes his best gir – um, best friend out on a date, it's got to be a special occasion, right?" He carefully did not meet her eyes, instead casting a casual look around the room. "And this is the specialest place there is."
They spent two hours, mostly talking and laughing, with spurts of eating in between. Beetlejuice insisted that they stay until Lydia was hungry enough for dessert, and then they had Sarah Burnheart Cookies, named after the famous actress, which they both lingered over to make them last.
"These are so good, Beej," Lydia said reaching for the last one. He let her take it even though she waved it at him in invitation.
"I think," he said, watching her bite into the cookie, "she might have also invented bicarbonate of soda."
She nearly choked, laughing, then swallowed her bite and held out the cookie half to him. "Here. Fair's fair; you get half."
"You sure?" he asked, eyebrows up. Then, when she nodded, he took it and held it carefully. "Um, we probably better get a move on. I've got a table at the Cotton Swab for dancing." He watched her intently and, when she ducked her head to get her purse, he hastily put the cookie in his pocket, then patted the pocket tenderly.
Lydia caught him out of the corner of her eye and her heart warmed. She had her flowers to press as a memento of their first date, and now he'd kept something she'd given him.
At the Cotton Swab, they drank ginger ale for two reasons. One, they didn't want anything to take away from the pleasure of dancing. Two, Beetlejuice was nearly out of money.
He whispered to her over their glasses, "I'm just about flush out, babes. One more glass each, though, okay?"
"Oh, but," she reached for her purse, but he put a hand on hers to stop her.
"No. Tonight's on me. It's special." He lowered his gaze to their hands and blinked hard before adding, "Let me do this for you, okay?"
She turned her hand to clasp his before answering. "Anything for you, Beej." When he looked up at her in surprise, she grinned at him. "Now, let's dance."
The club band played mostly slow dance numbers, but Beetlejuice managed to persuade them to play a rhumba. He and Lydia had the dance floor nearly to themselves for that one, and the other patrons gave them a quick patter of applause when it ended. Then the music began again and so did the dancing.
As the clock hands crept closer to midnight, the two dancers crept closer together, until they were nearly embracing for the final number, a slow foxtrot. When it ended, they stood silently looking at each other, then Lydia sighed wistfully and checked her watch.
ooooo
Lydia had promised her father she'd be home by midnight, so, reluctantly, Beetlejuice took her to the front door of the house, then juiced himself to her room to wait for her. She was only a short time downstairs wishing her parents a happy anniversary and good night.
He smiled as she danced through the door, carrying his flowers in a small vase of water. "Oh, I hate to see this evening end, but it was wonderful." She put the vase carefully on her nightstand, positioning it just so and touching one of the blossoms gently. "It was just a magical night."
"I had a great time, too." Beetlejuice shrugged and shuffled a little. "Maybe we could do this again some time. You know, go on a date."
"I would love that. Tonight was so very special. You deserve," she said, daring greatly, "a goodnight kiss."
Obediently, smiling, he presented his cheek to her.
Obediently, sighing, she kissed his cheek, their traditional greeting and farewell.
He took her hands in his and bent to return her kiss, but he contrived a slight miss and caught the very corner of her mouth.
Head turned away, rapidly turning pink, he murmured goodnight and vanished.
Lydia prepared for bed that night glancing frequently at her flowers and already dreaming.
