Lydia Deetz finally felt normal.

Well, if one considered living with ghosts normal, that is. And she did.

Her entire life – the nineteen years that she'd lived so far, anyway – had not been "normal" by any means. She barely remembered her mother; she'd died one night in her sleep when Lydia was just six years old. Doctors were never able to determine the cause.

Charles, her father, had raised her alone for a couple of years until he met Delia at the local cultural center. Lydia had gone on a field trip with her school, and Delia had been teaching a sculpting class there. Both Charles and Delia discovered that they had eclectic tastes in art and started dating fairly quickly after meeting.

Lydia hadn't been particularly impressed with Delia, but she'd only been ten years old when her father remarried. At the time, Lydia had just started wearing all black clothes and spent hours in her room alone, so she didn't pay her step-mother much attention.

When Lydia reached puberty, she was still wearing black, and her thoughts seemed to have caught up with the color of her clothes. She wrote fairly dark poetry – even tried a couple of stories – but her real fascination was photography. She liked to pick flowers and put them by things that had died – bugs, rats, whatever she could find – and shoot them in black and white film. While she didn't understand death, she'd always thought that it was a transition, and to her, that's what she tried to show in her photos – that there was a kind of beauty in the transition.

Then her father moved them to Connecticut. Lydia hadn't cared all that much – she didn't really have any friends – and Delia was too self-absorbed to care; as long as she could paint, sculpt and (try to) impress people, she was happy.

Discovering the Maitlands in the house hadn't fazed Lydia. In a way, their existence and presence felt natural, and she'd been comfortable with them from the moment she'd discovered them under those silly sheets. She'd enjoyed getting to know them over the last few years. They were simple, unassuming people, and they genuinely cared for her. Lydia cared about them, too.

And then he happened. Sometimes it all seemed like a bad dream, all the twisted magic that he'd used against everyone in his selfish pursuit for freedom. It had taken a number of months for all of the damage that he'd caused to be repaired, both physically and emotionally. Almost five years had passed since then, and she tried to put the memories out of her mind. It was done, and he was gone.

It was over.

After Lydia had graduated high school, she'd started working for Mr. Sheppard at the small camera shop in town. He was an elderly gentleman with kind blue eyes and a quick wit who loved to tell stories about growing up in Boston in the early nineteen hundreds, and Lydia loved listening to him.

She wasn't sure about college yet, and while Delia tried to get her interested in an art school, her father told her not to make a decision until she was ready. So she developed pictures twenty hours a week and was perfectly happy with it.

Barbara was Lydia's best friend. They'd spent hours talking and getting to know each other. She'd learned that the lady ghost had lost her mom when she was in her teens, and it had prompted her to want a family early on. Sadly, she'd been unable to conceive, and she and Adam hadn't had a chance to get any testing done before they died, though they'd talked about it. Unlike Delia, Barbara listened to Lydia and tried to understand how she felt about things. The lady ghost never judged her – she was always very supportive; Adam, too. They were both as sweet as could be.

The two couples had separate living areas in the house, but everyone helped with household chores. The Maitlands even cooked sometimes, though they didn't usually eat since they didn't have to. The Deetz's loved Barbara's green bean casserole and homemade meatloaf; Charles would often sneak into the kitchen after midnight to have leftovers. A couple weeks ago on Christmas Eve, all three ladies had even baked goodies together and had had a lot of fun.

In an odd way, it was the kind of home that Lydia had always wanted.

"These are just beautiful," Barbara complimented, looking through a handful of photos. "I miss going out in the snow."

"I took those last week. Everything was so white…so pure. It was perfection just for a moment."

"May I keep these?"

"I printed them just for you."

When Barbara grinned, her eyes lit up. "Thank you. I appreciate that." She noticed Lydia yawn and added, "Stay up too late again writing?"

Lydia shook her head. She had been known to stay up for hours working on a chapter when an idea struck her because she knew she wouldn't remember it the next morning. "I had another one of those dreams, and I guess I didn't want to go back to sleep."

"The – uh – beetle one?"

No one said his name anymore, understandably.

"Yeah, that one."

"Why didn't you come get me?" Barbara asked, her voice full of concern as she reached for Lydia's hand in a gesture of comfort. "You know Adam and I don't have to sleep. We just do it to stay on the same schedule that the rest of you guys are on."

Lydia shrugged and looked across the room at Adam's model of the town; he'd just finished updating the police station last week thanks to the photos that she'd taken for him. "I don't know."

For the past number of months, Lydia had been having dreams about Beetlejuice. What made them the most disturbing was that he was always nice. He still looked the same with his dirty, striped clothes, wild hair and questionable skin growths, but in the dreams, it was as if they were dating or at least interested in each other. The reason why it disturbed her was because in the dream she sort of liked it. And she had no idea why.

As if reading her mind, Barbara suggested, "You know, maybe you should try going out with that Isaac guy again; get your subconscious on someone else."

Lydia smirked and shared a knowing look with the lady ghost. She'd met Isaac at work one day a few weeks ago. He was twenty-one and had recently moved to the countryside to focus on his second horror novel. His first had been published earlier that year and was doing very well. He was also a photographer, so he and Lydia had talked quite a bit about that. Eventually, they'd gone out for lunch and had had a good time. While he was fairly easy to talk to, she felt like something was missing but had no idea what.

"Maybe," was all she said.

When spring arrived with warm sunshine and brightly colored flowers, Lydia found herself drawn to the river on numerous occasions. She loved the gentle gurgling of the water as it flowed over the rocks, and it brought her a tranquility that she didn't find elsewhere. Maybe that was the attraction; it brought her peace when little else did.

Lydia had been out with Isaac a few times. He looked like a young Barnabas Collins with shoulder length hair, which appealed to her since that was one of her favorite shows. She always had a fun time with him, but she was still guarded. There was no way to tell him about the ghosts living in her house – and certainly not the other incidents that had happened – without him wanting to have her committed. Barbara had read Isaac's first book (she'd asked Lydia to get it for her), and she'd told Lydia that she might be surprised about his beliefs if his writing was any indication. Lydia still wasn't sure, though. Trusting him with her secrets – especially those secrets – was a pretty big deal.

Towards the end of June, Lydia left work and walked straight to the river as she often did. It was nearly seven, and there was a gentle breeze in the air. She headed for her favorite spot near the edge of the woods.

After sitting down in the grass, Lydia breathed deeply and hugged her knees to her chest. There was no reason to go home yet; she was meeting Isaac back at the camera shop at eight. Sometimes they developed photos together after hours; Mr. Sheppard never minded. Isaac had been taking mostly architecture lately, and he had a great eye. They'd talked about shooting together sometime. She liked that idea; she'd never done it before.

As she looked at the beautiful, towering trees around her, Lydia noticed a big clump of moss to her right. She didn't remember it being there when she sat down. Looking past it, she saw another and then another past that one.

Curious, Lydia got up to investigate. She knew the area well – it's where she always sat – and there was never a line of moss clumps there. She wasn't even sure that the trees in the area grew that kind of moss. She followed them into the edge of the forest behind her, noticing that there were more and more as she went along. She looked around – the small wooded area wasn't very dense – but she didn't see anything out of the ordinary. She did notice that it seemed quieter than it should be, but twilight was closing in, and the woods always stilled then. With a shrug, she turned to walk back out to her spot by the river.

"Hey babinsky."

With a startled shriek, Lydia stumbled backwards over a root and fell, landing on her backside in a most ungraceful manner. "Where are you?" she cried out, instantly recognizing his voice. "Show yourself!"

When he stepped out from behind a nearby tree, Lydia gasped loudly and clamped a hand over her mouth, her eyes wide and frantic. Her heart thundered in her ears like the hooves of wild horses galloping across a prairie, and while every muscle screamed to move, she did not.

Beetlejuice looked just like he did in her dreams. He wore his black and white striped suit with a white shirt, black tie and black boots, but everything was filthy. His ashen-colored face with raccoon eyes still had strange lichen-like growths on it, and his moss-colored hair was still unkempt and frizzy. Her nose wrinkled in disgust – the clumps that she'd followed looked just like his hair. They weren't were they? She hoped not.

Beetlejuice took her shocked reaction as a compliment. "I am lookin' pretty fetchin' these days, aren't I?" he asked, checking himself out as best he could.

Lydia shook her head, her hand finally falling away from her mouth. "You…how…you were gone…I –"

"Yeah…there's a slight issue with that."

Lydia continued to stare at him as she stood and brushed herself off. "I don't understand. Issue with what?"

Beetlejuice lit up a cigarette using the tip of his left forefinger as a lighter and took a long puff before blowing the smoke into the air above his head.

"Well, babe, it seems that I'm stuck, and you are the only one that can fix it."

"Me? What could I possibly fix?" Lydia still couldn't believe that he was standing in front of her – and without being summoned. That had to be a bad sign if there ever was one.

"You see," he began, taking another long puff and exhaling the white, swirly smoke as he stepped towards her, twigs snapping under his dingy boots. "Apparently, you releasin' me and me almost marryin' you has me stuck in limbo as far as gettin' out."

"So?"

When he grinned, Lydia felt like a wounded gazelle under the hungry gaze of a lion and crossed her arms protectively as she took a step back.

"For me to be released, our marriage has to be consummated," he told her with a sly wink and lascivious lick of his lips.

Lydia's eyes enlarged as her jaw dropped in shock. "What?"

Beetlejuice held up his hands in front of him defensively. "Hey – I'm just the messenger here."

"There is no marriage!" Lydia exclaimed, unable to believe what she was hearing. "It was stopped before it was completed!"

"Ah ah," he said, wagging a pale finger topped with a black nail at her before taking another drag off his cigarette. "The other side says that there was enough of the ceremony completed for them to consider it bindin' which means I'm halfway to bein' free. So you gotta help me out here."

"You're lying! There's no way any of that is true!" Lydia was afraid that her lunch was about to come up.

Calmly, Beetlejuice flicked away the cigarette butt and then reached into his pocket for a folded up document which he handed to her.

"I think you'll find that it's completely legit."

Lydia snatched it from him and then quickly stepped away again, trying her best to read it, but it was all legal mumbo jumbo which she didn't understand. Plus, it was impossible for her to concentrate.

"And just what kind of consummation are they supposedly requiring?" she snapped, one hand on her hip.

Beetlejuice took a couple steps closer so that he was standing right in front of her. "Why, the only kind that counts, my dear Lydia," he purred, lowering his voice as his crazy eyes gleamed at her. "Us nekkid in the sheets doing the horizontal mambo."

He wiggled his hips around as if he was dancing, but when he reached out to touch her, Lydia backed away from him, furiously shaking her head. "Don't you dare touch me! There's no way that I'd do that with you! This is just another one of your tricks! Why can't you just leave me alone?"

Beetlejuice grinned again, making no effort to hide his lust as he boldly looked her up and down.

"You have a month to comply, babe," he told her, before turning and walking away, whistling something that sounded like a funeral dirge.

Lydia did the only thing that her desperate, frantic brain could think of. "Beetlejuice, Beetlejuice, Beetlejuice!"

The bio-exorcist chuckled. "By the way, that name thing? Yeah…doesn't work anymore." Then he disappeared behind a tree.

Lydia ran all the way home and forgot all about meeting Isaac.

"It can't be true!" Lydia wailed as Barbara hugged her tight where they stood in the attic. "It just can't be!"

Adam was reading over the document that Beetlejuice had given Lydia, but it was written like the handbook, so he was having a difficult time understanding the verbiage.

"Can you make heads or tails out of it?" Barbara asked, worry etched all over her face as she kept an arm around Lydia.

"Not really," he said, walking over to them with the papers. "I think Juno will need to be involved with something like this, anyway."

"What am I going to do?" Lydia cried, wiping tears and smearing her black eyeliner. "I can't sleep with him! I can't be married to him! This just…it can't be happening!"

"Don't go by the river for the next few days," Adam told her, folding up the document and putting it in his pocket. "We'll figure this out. There's no way that this can be legal."

Barbara grabbed the chalk and started drawing a door on the brick wall. "Be careful when you go to work. We'll be back just as soon as possible."

As the layers of brick turned into a door and opened with a gravelly rumble, Lydia watched them run into the green light and wondered what her future would hold. She knew time was different over there; what if they didn't get back in time? He couldn't force her, could he? No, she refused to believe that the other side would encourage that. He had to have misunderstood – he was famous for it – or just outright lied and made up the entire thing to rattle her. Yes. That had to be it.

Lydia tried to calm down, but her heart was pounding inside her chest so hard that it was giving her a headache. Perhaps it was time to go sneak some alcohol. Thanks to Delia, there was always plenty in the house.

When the Maitlands arrived at the Netherworld office, they demanded to speak with Juno right away. The secretary at the window tried to tell them that they had to wait, but the couple was having none of it this time. It was only a few minutes until they were taken to her.

"What's the big idea barging in here like that?" Juno barked at the couple, her bony fingers clutching a cigarette as she waved her hand around in frustration. "You're supposed to wait your turn just like everybody else!"

"This is the big idea!" Adam exclaimed, shoving the papers that Lydia had given him into the caseworker's spindly hand. "Beetle – "

"Shh!" Juno warned.

"That doesn't affect him anymore, Juno!" Adam exclaimed, eyes wide and nostrils flaring. "He approached Lydia, gave her this paperwork and told her that she had a month to comply. It's about consummating a marriage that never existed!"

Juno took the papers and looked them over while Adam and Barbara sat down. They exchanged worried glances while they waited.

After another couple minutes of unnerving silence, Barbara finally said, "Well?"

Juno looked up and took a long drag from her cigarette, exhaling through the opening in her neck. "Good news, bad news," she began. "Bad news is it's a binding contract."

"What?" Adam shrieked as he stood. "There's no way that – "

"Would you shut up and sit down?" Juno snapped, the wrinkles between her eyebrows becoming even more prominent. "The good news is that he has to do his part, as well."

"Could you explain the whole thing in plain English please?" Barbara asked with a slow shake of her head. "We're very confused."

Juno exhaled more smoke from her neck and then tapped the end of cigarette on an ashtray a couple times. "When Lydia spoke his name to call him forth in her attempt to rescue you, it showed good faith on her part," she explained. "And because the ceremony went as far as it did, our laws state that he does have recourse to legally request completion of the marriage which is the consummation."

"You said there was good news," Adam reminded her, grinding his teeth together and making his jaw muscles twitch as he pinched the bridge of his nose. "What could possibly be good?"

"He must woo her in earnest in order to win her affections," Juno continued. "Any kind of force or coercion on his part will bind him to the land of the sandworms for fifty years. In turn, Lydia may not ignore him – she must allow him full opportunity."

The Maitlands were not happy about any of this information and exchanged looks of disbelief. Adam ran a hand through his hair as he slouched in his seat while Barbara balanced her elbows on her knees and then covered her face with her hands.

"And what if she doesn't?" Adam asked wearily.

Juno looked at them gravely, the corners of her wrinkled mouth turned down with her steely eyes devoid of emotion. "I don't think you want me to answer that."

"What about some sort of an appeal?" Barbara asked, hope briefly shining in her coffee-colored eyes. "Can Lydia file anything against this?"

Juno shook her head slowly. "No."

"Okay…if your laws consider them essentially married already, then what about an annulment?" Adam asked, racking his brain to think of anything that might help.

Juno shook her head again. "The marriage is in limbo. Until a consummation takes place, the marriage is not completed, and until it's completed, he doesn't have his freedom which is what he's after. Once it is completed, then an application for annulment can be filed."

"Are you telling us that she basically has to be with him regardless?" Barbara asked, sitting on the edge of her chair. "That's taking away her choice. We have a term for that, Juno."

The crabby caseworker sighed and rolled her eyes as she put out her cigarette. "Don't you two listen? If he doesn't successfully woo Lydia after she gives him sincere opportunity to do so, the contract becomes null and void. She retains her choice, and he remains trapped."

The Maitlands looked at each other again, still not happy with what they were hearing.

"This is crazy," Adam spat, shaking his head and crossing his arms. "I mean…it makes no sense whatsoever. And why doesn't saying his name work anymore, anyway?"

Juno reached for her pack of cigarettes, taking one out and lighting it. "No one said that dealing with the dead was easy. Once you cross over, laws change. And apparently saying his name doesn't work anymore because he's in this legal-limbo. Now I suggest you get back and talk with Lydia so the process can begin. She's already lost four days."

"So what did she say?" Lydia asked when the Maitlands returned. She'd been spending every minute that she could in the attic waiting for them, and she hadn't slept much in the last couple days. "Please tell me there's a way out. Please tell me this is just one of his schemes."

Lydia knew by the long faces of her friends that she wasn't going to like their answers. "Well, there's good news and bad news. The bad news is that the contract is legal," Barbara explained as Lydia's eyes enlarged in disbelief. "But, the good news is that he left out an important part of the document."

"What?"

"He can in no way force or manipulate you," Adam told her. "He has to truly woo you so that it is completely your choice."

Lydia crossed her arms, jutting her chin out defiantly. "Then I'll just ignore him."

"Um…you have to give him sincere opportunity," Barbara added with a grimace and apologetic eyes. "You can't ignore him."

Lydia sighed, her arms falling to the sides of her body in defeat. She didn't like the sound of any of this. "So what happens if he doesn't 'woo' me or whatever?"

"The document is void then, and he remains trapped," Adam answered.

"And saying his name doesn't work now because…"

"Because of him being in limbo," Barbara answered with a shrug. "I don't get it, either."

"I can't believe that I'm even acknowledging that this could be a possibility, but if we actually did – you know – wouldn't that make us married for real?"

"You'd be able to file for an annulment then," Barbara explained, putting her arm around Lydia to try to comfort her. "Juno even gave us paperwork, just in case."

Lydia shook her head and looked back and forth between the ghosts. She couldn't believe this was happening to her. Why her? Why couldn't he leave her alone? "This is insane."

"That's what we said," Adam agreed.

"At least I'm not being forced, though. I was concerned about that. I guess I could – um – give him a chance. Sort of. Anything to make this go away."

"And not that I want to encourage this in any way, but the clock is ticking," Barbara reminded her. "The sooner you get started, the sooner this mess can be over."

"Thanks for trying, guys," Lydia told them, forcing a small smile. "I really appreciate it. I think I'm going to head to the river and have a chat with him."

The closer Lydia got to the woods, the better she began to feel. If Beetlejuice had to sincerely "woo" her (does anyone seriously use that term anymore, she wondered), then she was home free. She'd have to tolerate his ridiculous attempts to get her attention for a month, but she knew without a doubt that Beetlejuice would never, ever be successful.

For the first time in almost a week, Lydia genuinely smiled.

Perhaps there are a hundred stories about their 'almost' wedding, so this will be one hundred and one. lol It will only be a few chapters, so nothing too elaborate. But I've been wanting to play with these two for a while now. Hope you enjoy.