I did a giveaway in celebration of Neither Here Nor There's 100+ kudos on Ao3! The winner of the giveaway was Deliriumrei! They chose a "drabble" as their gift! But, because I have no self-control, this is now a mini fic. This is the prompt that was sent to me by the winner: She knew it was a dangerous game. But she wanted to know. No, she NEEDED to know. She could always feel it. Something coiled up inside him, ready to strike. And she wanted all of him. "Don't hold anything back, Beej."

Naturally, it's a Beej/Lyds pairing. Mature for language and eventual lemons.

At seventeen years old, Lydia Deetz found herself engaged to a six-hundred-thirty-seven-year-old poltergeist. Though she had accepted the deal willingly at the time to save her new ghost parents, she had not intended to go through with it at all. Even though she did little to stop the ceremony, her family tried their damnedest to get rid of their dangerous and unwanted rescuer before he could seal the deal. And they did. Or so they thought.

Unfortunately for the teenage bride, the officiate had performed the ceremony to its completion. The words "I now pronounce you Ghost and Wife" had gone unheard by pretty much everyone in the room. Let's face it, when there is a giant sandworm crashing through your living room, it's hard to pay attention to whatever else is going on. All had retired for the evening after the tumultuous affair and were on their way to a not-so-blissful sleep until Lydia's bloodcurdling scream had everyone racing to her room. They found her in her black, bulky nightgown hopping up and down in a panic, and pulling on her finger like she was ready to be free of the appendage altogether.

"It won't come off!" She yelled, wide-eyed with her cheeks streaked with sweat and tears.

After calming the poor girl down, it was evident she was referring to the simple, gold wedding band that the vile villain had managed to slip on her ring finger before being fed to the Saturn giant. Each guardian tried their best to pull the forsaken thing off the goth girl. They tried soap. They tried baby oil. They tried ice. They tried engine oil. They even tried Delia's homemade, organic, vaginal lubricant that she claimed could rehydrate the Sahara. Nothing worked. They all decided it was too soon to be making conjectures. Delia suggested that Lydia lose a few pounds - just enough to wriggle the offensive thing free. No one had any other suggestions, so Lydia got herself on a strict diet - not that she was very hungry anyway. Finding yourself to be an unwilling, underaged bride can sort of squelch your appetite. Barbara took it upon herself to stay in Lydia's room every night, just in case.

Matters only worsened when one morning both a marriage certificate naming Lydia Deetz as Wife and Betelgeuse Horeson as Husband, and a Handbook for the Recently Married to the Deceased showed up on Lydia's vanity. While Lydia took the news with silent defeat, Barbara had a complete meltdown. As her ghostly godparents charged for the Afterlife Waiting room to appeal on her behalf, Lydia sauntered off to the local cemetery and brooded.

It had been a whole month. She had been married an entire month, but her grimy, gross husband had not come to claim her. She wondered if he was still being digested. She paced the graveyard for hours while she read her new manual on being a dead man's wife. Twisting the ring on her finger as she pondered on the endless scenarios her dark imaginings could come up with, she decided to end her misery by confronting the source of her anxiety. With newfound knowledge and courage, she went home, climbed upstairs, locked herself in her room, and waited for the witching hour. Adam and Barbara had still not returned, and Delia tried to be motherly by asking her stepdaughter if she needed her to sleep the night with her, which Lydia denied emphatically.

The house was finally quiet and midnight rolled around. Lydia touched the cool glass of her vanity mirror. Saying his name once would establish a connection, like dialling a phone number, but he would have control over answering the call. She didn't want that. Saying his name twice while touching a reflective surface would summon him to that specific object, and doing so at the time of the witching hour would give her complete control over the summons. Uttering his name three times, well, it could be deduced accurately what might happen then.

She inhaled deeply and steadily. "Betelgeuse." Her wedding band glowed green, and the hairs on her arms stood on end. "Betelgeuse." The surface of the mirror fogged over, completely obscuring any reflection. She waited, but the fog did not clear. Another long moment passed until she heard the sound of a finger gliding on moist glass beneath her hand. She removed her hand quickly and watched in awe as letters spelt themselves crudely on the mirror.

HI, POOKIE.

Lydia nearly gagged at the pet name, but her panic started to build effectively taking over her disgust. She'd made contact. "Where are you?"

HERE. A-DUH.

"Why can't I see you?" She asked suspiciously.

The fog danced on the surface silently until it began to clear enough to reveal a pair of smug blue eyes encircled by black. "Didn't think you wanted to see me, sweetums. Lookin' a little..." his hand appeared and motioned at her up and down, "traumatized." He chuckled, and his hand disappeared.

Lydia crossed her arms over her chest and gave the ghost a challenging look. "I'm just fine. Show yourself."

The poltergeist let out a chortle, and the fog vanished, revealing the merry looking dead guy dressed in swim trunks. And that was it. His mossy, black-stained chest was bare along with his protruding beer belly, and he had a little cocktail umbrella tucked behind one ear. His hair still looked like a matted mess, but it was damp and hung low on his shoulders. He was sitting on a beach chair and looking very much like the first time they'd met - not counting the snake encounter, of course.

"That's not what our little bond tells me," he smiled and raised his left hand. His wedding ring gave off a small green glow as hers had when she first called him.

The raven-haired teenager could barely keep her bored expression in place as she realized that he meant he could sense her distress.

"So!" He slapped his bare, moldy knee hard and leaned forward. "'Sup?"

Utterly amazed, Lydia shook her head. "What's up?" She said with disbelief. "What's up?! We're married. That's what's up!"

Betelgeuse splayed his hands before him and looked around before giving Lydia a confused quirk of his brow. "Yeah? That was the deal wasn' it? I save yer friends, you set me free?"

Lydia furrowed her brow and began to pace. "So, you are free , then?"

The poltergeist grinned wide and sat back, crossing his ankle over his knee. "Free as a bat at dusk, babe."

She caught a quick glimpse of something she did not want to see hanging in the gap of his bathing suit between his legs. "Ugh," she scowled and averted her gaze, "so we're square then?" She asked with impatience. "Are you done terrorizing people?"

Betelgeuse scratched the inside of his ear, then ate whatever he had pulled out. "I"m a freelance bio-exorcist. Terrorizing people is my job. And I'm very good at my job." He gave her a mischievous grin. "As you're well aware."

Lydia scoffed but silently agreed with him. "What I mean is, are you done terrorizing us . Me. My family?"

The mossy ghost looked amused as he gave Lydia a slow once-over. "Sure," he said with mild sincerity. "For now, anyway." He exposed his filthy, blackened overbite again with a snicker.

The goth girl plopped down on her bed and buried her face in her hands with defeat. "What have I done?" She breathed with quiet despair.

Betelgeuse rolled his eyes and shifted in his seat, uncomfortably. "Look, kid. You called me right outta my vacation, 'kay? I haven't done anything but enjoy some time under the Hawaiian sun. So, don't beat yerself up just yet. I've been a good boy." His eyes shifted in his sockets with uncertainty. "Unless you count what've been doin' under the sheets if ya know what I'm sayin'?"

Lydia looked up and studied the ghoul trapped in her mirror. He did not seem as menacing, manic, or dangerous as when they parted ways. "You're on vacation? In Hawaii." She almost couldn't believe it. "What happens when you get bored with that?"

He shrugged. "Well, I uh, go back to work," he replied simply. "Gotta provide for my little ball and chain." He winked at her.

She scoffed. "Consider yourself relieved from that duty." She eyed him a moment longer. "The handbook says we will be audited to make sure the marriage wasn't a fraud to get your papers."

Betelgeuse waved away her comment. "Don't you worry your pretty little head over that. I'll know when they're comin' to check up on us. I'll call ya, then you summon me, we answer a few questions, act like we're in love, badabing, no one will be the wiser."

Lydia felt a strange surge of bravery as she stood and sauntered closer to the mirror. "What if I say no?"

A darkness clouded over Betelgeuse's eyes as he gave her a hooded gaze. "We made a deal," he said with a mirthless smile.

She decided to ignore the warning in his tone. "Yeah, but I didn't know I had to see you again and again for the rest of my life. It's inconvenient."

"As I said it would be," he retorted condescendingly. He relaxed a bit and clicked his tongue. "But I get yer point. Ya know, being married to me does have its perks," he said sleazily while he waggled his eyebrows.

"Ew. Not interested," Lydia bit back with disgust.

Betelgeuse's face fell into a bored expression. "For once, I didn't mean it like that." He did — a little. "I mean," he amended, "not everyone has a talented, personal poltergeist they can whip outta their back pocket whenever they want. Think of me like a genie or somethin' like that. Shit, I'll even give ya three wishes."

Lydia considered the ghost's words. She could think of several instances in her past where a poltergeist could have been very useful. With school starting soon, she wondered if she'd make new enemies in her senior year. Plus, there was one thing she wanted more than anything that only a ghost could help her with. She had been biding her time to ask the favor of Adam and Barbara, but part of her already knew it was too great a favor to ask of them. If he wasn't going to bother her or her family, she could keep their deal a secret and use him when or if she needed to.

"Unlimited wishes and we have a deal," she bargained with a smirk.

"Five," he haggled back.

"A hundred thousand."

He stood up, scrunched up his face and shook his head. "Unlucky thirteen, my final offer," he grated through clenched teeth.

Thirteen was probably more than enough, Lydia thought. "Deal."

The poltergeist let out his famous, wild cackle. "You got it, Lyds. Now, if ya don't mind, I was about to work on my tan line before ya called. We good?"

Lydia bit her lip before answering. "I have a wish."

Betelgeuse let out a loud phlegmy sigh of impatience. "Already?" He shook his head, then sat back down in his chair. "Fine. Spit it out."

"I want you to find my mother," she mumbled quickly. "I have, um, a letter." The ball of nerves sat at her vanity, uncomfortable with his proximity despite the barrier, and pulled out her letter from a drawer. "Can you give it to her?"

The poltergeist snapped his fingers, and the letter glowed green before its astral copy was sucked out into the portal before her and into his hand. He read it right in front of her without a care.

"Well, don't read it!" She outraged.

Betelgeuse let out a whistle, folded the letter, and tucked it who-knows-where behind him. "That was awkward," he muttered before clapping his hands together, enthusiastically, "you got it, honey." With a pop, he was suddenly floating in the air dressed as some corpse version of the genie from I Dream of Jeannie. "Your wish is my command," he said in a scratchy feminine voice. He crossed his arms, gave an exaggerated nod and a blink, and then he was gone.

The mirror returned to normal as soon as he vanished, which left Lydia unnerved. She followed the instructions to trap him in the mirror, yet he was able to leave before the Witching Hour had ended. He shouldn't have been able to do that. She wasn't sure what was scarier. Him having more power than she realized, or the visual of him in a belly dancer's outfit with curves in all the wrong places.

Even after losing seven pounds, the ring would not come off. It should have been enough. Lydia decided to end her fruitless diet and also turned down other ludicrous ideas of being taken to the emergency room or a mechanic to get it removed. Barbara and Adam returned after four months with unfortunate news as well. Juno reminded them that their vouchers had been depleted and even if they still had one, the caseworker could do nothing.

"But," Barbara amended, "Juno said that there would most likely be a visit from some auditors!" She exclaimed with joy. Her smile fell. "Except we don't know when they'll come or who they'll be."

Adam adjusted his glasses on the bridge of his nose. "So, it could be as early as tonight!"

"Or when I'm eighty," Lydia replied dryly.

The married couple gave each other a guilty frown. "Well, I don't think it'll be that long..." "Possibly..." They responded in unison.

Lydia shook her head and started to giggle. She gave everyone a thumbs up and turned to leave. "Going to my room now."

Barbara went to place a comforting hand on her. "I'll be right up to-"

"No, no. I don't need you to sleep in my room anymore," Lydia responded with boredom.

"But what if he comes back?" Adam retorted. "Your birthday is in a few days! What if he," the ghost stopped short when Barbara placed a hand on his shoulder to stop him from saying what he was going to say next, "comes back," he muttered.

Lydia knew what he was implying. She would be eighteen in three days, and they worried if Betelgeuse would come to try and consummate the marriage. She shrugged and giggled mirthlessly again while she sauntered up to her room. She wasn't too disturbed about their theory. When she last saw the poltergeist, he did not seem eager or even concerned with trying to claim her as his actual wife. In fact, he appeared annoyed she'd even called him. Plus, she hadn't seen or heard from him since she summoned him that one night. When Lydia entered her room, she found a box on her bed with a note.

STUDY UP, BUTTERCUP. -B

She tore the box open thinking it was something to do with her mother, but instead she found numerous pages in a stack. She flipped through some of the pages and realized it was all written accounts about Betelgeuse. The further she dug through the papers, the older the pages looked. At one point she found parchment written in what appeared to be Old English or some other language.

"What the hell?" Lydia scoured through more papers until she tossed everything back in and charged for her vanity. "Betelgeuse-Betelgeuse!"

The mirror took no time at all to reveal the poltergeist in a hideous plaid suit, his hair combed over with thick gel, and he was sporting sunglasses. His arms were opened to his sides as if they had just been curled around a waist each. Startled to find his evening prizes gone, Betelgeuse jumped back and wildly looked around. "Where'd ya go?! Come on, I thought we were havin' a good time!" His search led his gaze to Lydia. "Aw, shit," he deflated, kicked at the ground, then changed his tune. "Hey there, little missus," he crooned affectionately, "got questions for your dear ol' hubby?"

"Why did you leave your unintelligible biography on my bed?" She asked in a hushed whisper.

Betelgeuse motioned to the sky for patience. "For the audit, dear," he drawled. "You need to know some things about me if we're gonna sell this sham."

Lydia perked up at the mention of the audit. "Are they coming?"

"No, but you should be ready for when they do, because it will happen. Could be tomorrow, could be when you're eighty. Who knows. Better safe than screwed though."

The teenager fumed for a moment. "Why should play along when you haven't even granted my first wish yet?"

Betelgeuse puffed out his chest and placed his fists on his hips. "Hey! I did too!" He defended. "What did you want a certified return receipt?!"

Lydia sunk in on herself and dropped into her chair. He had delivered the letter and her mother never replied. "How long ago?"

Outraged, Betelgeuse stomped on the ground and pointed a finger at her. "Right after I left ya! I keep my end of deals, kid. You should know that by now," he barked. The ghost could tell she was down in the dumps and he couldn't have her natural inclination toward melancholy get the better of her. For the sake of his freedom, he would not allow her to go off the deep end just because her mother was an asshole. "Hey-hey, listen," he consoled as he raised his hands in supplication, "forget that broad, okay? You wouldn't even like her, honestly. Can't believe I'm gonna say this, but the red-headed-medusa is a better mommy figure for ya anyway. Plus, ya got the Sandworm cowgirl on your side now."

The goth teenager couldn't help the smirk that curled up on her lips at the nicknames the poltergeist had given her parental figures. "You've got to be joking," she snickered.

Betelgeuse removed his sunglasses then crossed his heart. "I wouldn't lie ta ya, babes."

"I think you would," she retorted playfully.

He nodded his head. "Yeah, well, not about this. I'd call your mom a cunt but she lacks the warmth and depth."

She bit back a laugh. "You know I'm a child right?" Lydia jabbed.

Betelgeuse rolled his eyes and gave her the okay sign. "Lucky for you, you'll magically turn into an adult in three days," he mocked, "you can appreciate my humor then."

Lydia gulped down her sudden distress. He knew her eighteenth birthday was fast approaching.

The poltergeist scrutinized her brief but apparent displeasure. He was quick to deduce the problem. He chuckled. "All right, babe, I've got some bets to place on some crap tables, so unless you have another wish ready, I gotta hit it."

She pursed her lips and narrowed her eyes. "Well, there is this girl named Claire…"

A sleazy grin spread wide on his face. "Go on ."

Lydia spent her birthday week in complete bliss. She had been pampered by her family, and Claire was out of school because she had scabies. The evening of her birthday was somewhat awkward. The Maitlands and her parents stayed up with her until midnight, of course, they never mentioned the reasoning behind their motives but Lydia knew. Midnight came and went and Betelgeuse made no appearance. When Barbara finally left Lydia's room the goth girl locked her door with a sigh of relief. There was a sudden rush and a green glow that came from her vanity. Lydia whirled around fully expecting Betelgeuse to be standing smack in the middle of her room in one of his ridiculous getups holding onto a bouquet of flowers or box of chocolates and a perverted smirk plastered on his face. What she found was a flat, velvet black box with an elaborate red bow. She looked at her mirror for signs of her husband, but he was not there. She approached her gift with caution and gingerly untied the bow. When she lifted the lid, Lydia gasped. Delicately, she grazed her fingers on the finest red fabric she'd ever seen. She pulled it out of the box and raised it before her. A red and black spiderweb poncho that was perfect for her size. She would have scoffed and tossed it aside, it was something she'd never wear, but when she glanced at her mirror she couldn't help but smile. She shook her head, folded her gift and placed it back in the case. She hid it with all the other things that were from him, everything she wore on their farce of a wedding and his biography were carefully tucked away in a steamer trunk with a false bottom. Just in case he could hear or see her she decided to be polite.

"Thanks," she mumbled.

No reply came.

Chapter End Notes

Thank you darkphilosophe13 for the cunt joke. lol
Thank you luvthephantom for reading this over and the encouragement!