Chapter Text
Lydia and Delores stared at the worker as she explained what she referred to as a “process”.
“Usually, if a deceased person gets married to a living, their soul would regain life and they’d become alive again. In this case… Delores’ dead, corrupted soul getting tied to a living soul would clean it, in a way. She would still be a ghost, but, like, a regular one. Meaning she would be able to wander anywhere she desires. Do you understand?”
“Yeah, I think so.” Lydia responds softly, something else on her mind. Delores nods.
“Great. So just contact us once you’ve figured everything out and we’ll arrange the wedding.” The worker said while smiling before walking off, entering an office.
After a moment of standing next to one another in silence, Lydia and Delores lock eyes.
“So… I don't suppose anyone who would get married to you is still alive.” Lydia tries to say with humor, huffing out a breathy laugh before looking away.
“I guess we’re doing this.” The living woman mumbles, seemingly to just herself.
“What?” Delores asks sternly. She turns sharply to face Lydia straight-on.
“What? I’m your only option. And I promised I’d help you.”
“No, that's…” Delores looks away, shaking her head. “Far too big of a favor to ask of you, Lydia.”
“No, no, it’s fine. It doesn't have to be a big deal.” Lydia shrugs as she says it with false confidence, trying to hide the shake in her voice and flushed expression.
Lydia isn't looking at Delores anymore. She’s making a visible effort to not make eye contact with the ghost. Delores examines the living woman’s face, unsure what exactly to make of her behavior.
“Are you certain?” The dead woman carefully speaks up after a few moments in uncomfortable silence.
Lydia turns her gaze back towards Delores, tracing her face with her eyes for a moment before speaking. “Yeah.” It comes out as a whisper and she adds – “Of course” – a bit louder, more confident.
Delores nods and a small, warm smile slowly appears on her face. She steps closer to Lydia, slowly, hesitantly pulling the living woman onto herself in an embrace.
“Thank you.” Delores says quietly, her chin perched up on Lydia’s shoulder.
The living woman is taken aback slightly but carefully wraps her arms around the ghost’s back, returning the hug.
“Thank me when you’re free.” Lydia responds in Delores’ hair. From her tone, the ghost can sense there’s a grin on Lydia’s face.
The two women stood in that old house, opposite of eachother. Between them was a ghost given the job of officiating their wedding. Lydia thinks about how, when she was younger, after her first meeting with Beetlejuice, she was always repulsed by the idea of marriage and swore she’d never do it as an adult. And here she is now, two weddings in the past week, though this one she feels a lot calmer about.
She makes an effort to not dwell on why exactly that might be. She decides it must be because of the kind of man Rori turned out to be. She ignores that feeling in the back of her head that tells her it might be more to it than that.
Lydia tries turning her attention elsewhere, and her eyes land on the woman in front of her, who seems to have been peering at her this entire time. Which makes sense, yes, they’re getting married. And yet, Lydia freezes under her gaze, her heart beating so fast she can hear it against her chest. Well, Delores is quite intimidating. From the way she towers over Lydia and is always looking down on her, literally, to how her sharp facial features are sculpted perfectly so her deep eyes are the center of her face – the first thing you notice about the dead woman being how it feels like she's staring a hole in your head. It would make perfect sense for the living woman to feel agitated under her gaze. Lydia looks away.
Her eyes fall on the ghost between them just as he looks up at Delores expectantly, and Lydia feels forced to look at the dead woman herself.
“I do.” Delores announces, her soothing voice curling around the words in a way that makes Lydia’s heart feel like it’s gonna jump out of her chest. She blames it on anxiety, she was nervous before her and Rori’s wedding as well, wasn't she? This isn't any different. At all.
The officiant turns to Lydia, his eyebrows rising as he waits for an answer.
Lydia opens her mouth and takes a deep breath to calm down before nodding and softly saying, “I do.” Her lips form a smile as her gaze falls on Delores again.
“I now pronounce you woman and wife.”
It sounds silly when he says it, and Lydia bites back a giggle. It doesn't take much effort, as his next words make her smile falter.
“You may now share your first married kiss.”
It really shouldn't have an effect on her. Of course they need to kiss, it’s a key part to ending the ceremony and sealing a relationship. But it feels almost wrong, as there is barely a relationship to seal.
Lydia notices Delores approaching her, looking up at the woman with a nervous expression. The ghost looks at her with what seems to be concern in her eyes, noticing her uneasiness, and Lydia can't help but smile at the woman. That seems to be a green light for Delores as she carefully wraps her hands around Lydia’s waist and presses her lips to hers.
It’s odd. Despite being a ghost, Delores can make physical contact with a living person with minimal effort but she is so cold.
Like a corpse, Lydia thinks as she shivers slightly, the contrast between her warm, alive skin and Delores’ very apparent. She can feel herself getting goosebumps, the dead woman radiating her freezing temperature onto Lydia even over her clothes.
What is also odd is how much she’s enjoying this, kissing Delores. But she decides not to think too much about that.
Lydia brings her hands up to cup each side of Delores’ face and briefly she wonders how this must feel for the ghost as the dead woman deepens their kiss. Does the warmth of her flesh feel foreign or comforting to her? Had she ever missed this warmth after dying, craved it? Is that why she’s not letting go now, even though it’s been long enough?
Delores all but melts into Lydia, savoring the dissipating heat coming from her body. Her breath hitches at the feeling of contrast between that and her own freezing, dead flesh. She feels the living woman shivering in her arms, her heart beating hard against Delores’ chest. The ghost’s heart isn't capable of beating anymore, but it seems Lydia’s is doing enough work for both of them.
At some point, Lydia pulls away, taking shaky breaths as she smiles at Delores. She looks over to the officiator, who’s… gone. Hm. When had he left?
Lydia looks back at Delores and giggles as she carefully removes herself out of the dead woman’s arms.
“You’re welcome.” Lydia says, almost nervous but still grinning ear-to-ear.
The ghost gapes at her for a few moments before a low laugh escapes her throat, matching Lydia’s chuckling.
Delores thinks how she could go anywhere she desires now, but she doubts she’d go far from Lydia.