Disclaimer: I do not own the rights to these characters, but am too weak-willed to resist playing with them, anyway. :weeps:

AN: This was just a flicker that ghosted through my little brain while I was pondering a much stranger story (and having a Michael Keaton moment!) It centers around my favorite moment of the entire movie, when Beetlejuice shows his depth of feeling for the space of one short word.

Premise: What if Lydia managed to set BJ free in the attic before Barbara could stop her? Sorry about the sloppy dialog at the front—I don't remember it perfectly. Feel free to correct me, and I promise to give you credit for the effort!

Just a Kid


Lydia looked down at the tiny little ghost, feeling lost. " I wanna get in... "

Beetlejuice looked at her strangely, all of his extraordinary energy focused on the dark little girl who stood over him, her feet on the threshold that he would have given all of his precious tricks to step over of his own free will. "Why?"

"Your name is Beetlejuice?" Lydia squinted skeptically at the frantic bug-sized figure, and suddenly, she knew where she had heard that voice before. "It was you, the snake!"

"Aw, that was just a joke. One more time, babe, and I'm all yours!" Lydia didn't know if that was such an appealing idea, but here she was, making a bargain with the devil. Wasn't that what she wanted? She had been ready to throw herself off a bridge, but here was her perfect solution—someone who had been there, and knew where to go. No need for a plummet into the icy water after all.

But still, as her lips formed the word, her brain winced in disapproval, and it came out as a whisper. "Beetlejuice."

The little ghost stood, stunned, for a moment, not having ever dared to hope that she would actually do it. Then he hooted for joy. The room exploded in to showering sparks, and suddenly he was standing in front of her, a devilish smile dancing on his lips. "Babe!" He darted in to plant a huge kiss on her cheek, and she held out her hands, warding him off.

Beetlejuice rocked back, peering at her curiously. After a moment's pause, he squinted, produced a dusty pair of glasses from his vest pocket, and seated them on this nose, peering at her like a slightly unhinged professor. "How old are you, anyway, Lyds?"

"None of your business!" She scowled at him, but he tilted his head to study her. She was pale and thin, underdeveloped; fragile. He leaned in close to inhale her, and she stumbled straight back into the wall. "Hey, back off! It's called personal space!" But his expression had change from curious to dubious. Incense, hairspray, and innocence.

"You're just a kid," he said in disgust. "I'm not takin' you anywhere."

"You promised!" she cried, her thin cheeks flushing pink.

"Yeah? Well, I'm not a frickin' babysitter. Got a reputation to uphold. Squeeze ya later, cutie!" He winked and turned, but she reached in to grab his coat before he could vanish.

"No! Take me with you, or I'll send you back, Beetlej--" His hand flew up to cover her mouth, his eyes flashing. And then he sighed theatrically, and his eyes narrowed, a little unpleasantly. His hand on her mouth lifted slightly, and he ran his thumb under her bottom lip. She shuddered, but held still under his cold touch. He tilted his head a little forward as his fingers trailed down her neck. She gritted her teeth, but didn't flinch away. If anything, he admired her tenacity.

"Lyds…" His voice was a rough grumble. "Have you ever been kissed, even?"

At this, Lydia flushed violently and looked at the floor, which was answer enough. He shook his head, bemused. "Why would you want to give all that up? That's the best part!"

She spoke without unclenching her teeth. "What's the point? Boys are idiots." He gave her a half grin that looked almost charming, in a toothy, untamed sort of way, and then closed his eyes, and opened them, a slow blink. His skin, which was desperately pale, began to gain some color. His sunken eyes filled in, and his lips flushed rosy. She realized abruptly that his eyes were an exquisite green blue. Her mouth was suddenly very dry.

"Maybe." He stood before her, looking for the moment just as human as she, darkly handsome and intense. His now-dark hair was neatly pulled back in a ribbon, and his vest was ornate and covered a shirt that was open at the collar. Her stomach quivered in tiny butterfly betrayal, and she swallowed hard. He leaned closer to her, and her heart started to race. "But in a few years, you're gonna be real interesting… to men. Forget the boys." Closer still, his thumb on her collarbone now, on her pulse, and his voice like silk and whiskey. "You should stick around…" Her butterflies gave birth to butterflies, and all she could see was the brilliant intensity of his eyes on her, and his mouth, lips parted slightly to reveal sharp, white teeth. Not quite human, then.

"Beetlejuice Beetlejuice Beetlejuice!" It was Barbara, leaping out of the wall, horrifically distorted. Beetlejuice turned and bared his teeth at her, and then his eyes were on Lydia again, something dark, unholy, and delicious in his gaze. Then he was gone. Lydia turned to look at Barbara, and screamed.

He realized that he should have taken advantage of his brief freedom to get the hell outta there. But something about the little girl had made him delay, and now he was right back where he started. Beetlejuice scowled. When he got his chance again, he would not make the same mistake.

Dark eyes lingered in his memory. She wouldn't be a kid much longer. And after 600 years, what was a few more?