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“Beetlejuice, you’re not bringing bugs into the country club,” You gently chide your boyfriend, picking spiders and centipedes and other creepy crawlies off his suit and out of his hair.
“Aw, come on. Lydia doesn’t mind.”
“No, and I don’t either,” You place a kiss upon his cheek, “But the school board might not feel comfortable with a bug-covered demon chaperoning the prom. Far too much liability, insurance would never cover it if something went wrong.”
He groans, but he knows you have a point. And you know that he really does want tonight to go well for Lydia and Sky. And while you, Beetlejuice, and Lydia may all get a kick out of some creepy crawlies terrifying a bunch of the rich parents of Lydia’s private school classmates, Sky was still not quite used to the way things crawled off of Beej– and sometimes onto her.
“Are you guys almost ready?” Lydia asks, banging on the basement door.
“Just about!” You respond, pulling a final bug off of Beetlejuice which vanishes into smoke as you hold it. It’s always hard to tell which bugs are real and which ones are just cosmetic.
Beetlejuice grins and the door unlocks, swinging open by itself. Beetlejuice is more or less in simply a cleaned up version of his usual striped suit. The big reveal is you– you’re in similar black-and-white attire, clearly coordinated to match your partner.
And while you two look like a box set, the two girls standing at the top of the stairs look as different as the moon and the sun. Literally. Sky worked hard to customize their outfits after all; Lydia’s one condition about going to prom was that she would not be wearing one of those colorful, gaudy prom dresses they sell at Macy’s. Her dress is black with tulle and flecks of silver. She’s wearing the halo headband with silver moons and stars sticking up from it that Sky made. Sky, in contrast, has on a yellow dress with white tulle and dangly golden sun earrings.
“Remind me to never try to outdress you two,” You tease the two girls.
Lydia normally rolls her eyes and snarks back, but on this occasion she simply smiles indulgently because of the way Sky beams at your praise. “She worked hard to really put these outfits together,” Lydia comments.
Sky giggles and blushes. “Oh, you’re sweet, liddybug,” the blonde says, and you discreetly nudge Beetlejuice to keep him from bursting out laughing at the cheesy, punny nickname that Sky has assigned to Lydia.
“We should get going,” You say, grabbing your keys. Since Sky’s parents do lean on the more protective side, they insisted the girls not drive alone in case there was any alcohol. Since you and Beetlejuice had volunteered to chaperone to save Lydia the embarrassment of her parents being at prom night, you agreed the two could ride with you.
Chaperoning had been your idea. You’d only been dating Beetlejuice a couple of months now, but you had known the household a fair while longer. The PTA had been requesting another pair of chaperones, and you’d swooped in to help Lydia out when Charles and Delia were considering going. Lydia was grateful when you offered– the mental image of her or Sky’s parents dropping the two girls off or worse, actually being at the dance, had made her visibly shudder. It constituted a far worse visage than any horror film she’d seen.
Of course, getting out of the Deetz-Maitland-Juice household is never easy. “You girls look amazing!” You hear Delia coo at the young couple before you and Beetlejuice even make your way up the stairs.
Beetlejuice hops onto the railing and slides the rest of the way up on his side, grinning– “And what about me, baby?”
As you make your way further up the stairs you see Delia roll her eyes, but gently pat Beetlejuice on the head like a puppy needy for approval. “Yes, you look wonderful,” She praises.
“Aren’t you excited?” Barbara asks Lydia, smiling ear to ear and taking her by the hand to twirl her in her dress. Lydia’s smiling too and she looks like a cool goth princess. You suspect the prom dress will make its way into her day-to-day wardrobe after tonight.
“Now, you two,” Charles says to you and Beetlejuice, as Delia begins the work of posing Lydia and Sky to take their picture. “I suspect tonight will go fine, but you do have my number if anything happens, or if anyone makes the girls… uncomfortable.”
“Don’t let the kiddos get ahold of alcohol, weed, blow, coke, or nose candy. Trust me, Chuck, we’ve got this,” Beetlejuice says, stepping over and putting an arm around Charles’s shoulder.
“Three of those were different names for cocaine.”
“See? If you need a guy that can spot when illicit substances are getting swapped around, I’m your guy!” Beetlejuice grins.
“Now you two!” Delia says, waving you and Beetlejuice over to stand against the wall so she could take your photo too. You can tell Beetlejuice really does want the photo– and to have the weirdly classic, familial experience of getting his prom photo taken– because he’s focusing really hard to try and actually show up on camera.
It takes a few tries, but Delia gladly shows you both the photo. It has you smiling brightly at the camera alongside your beau, who shows up in the picture translucent, green, and glowing. “You’re getting better at that,” You praise Beetlejuice.
“Well, y’know, it’s basically just doing the opposite of what I’ve been doing since 1816,” He shrugs, adjusting his tie with a satisfied expression.
Lydia grabs your wrist to haul you towards the door. “We’re gonna be late!”
“Drive safely, now! Don’t let her rush you!” Charles tells you.
“Dad!”
Upon arrival at the prom, you find a discreet corner inside the venue near the bathrooms. Whispering his name under your breath, you re-summon Beetlejuice, and he poofs into full-fledged visibility. You can tell he’s allowed some of his grime to return, but the lights are dim enough that you doubt someone less familiar with him would notice it. You lead him back into the room.
Lydia’s student government had opted to have a cloud 9 theme for the prom. You remembered her annoyance that they chose that over her suggestion to have a Carrie theme prom, a suggestion Beetlejuice had emphatically encouraged. Still, the decorations turned out cute– giant glitter-covered cotton balls colored white and pink and purple dangled from the ceiling to mimic clouds, alongside paper stars. You were glad that with the help of Sky’s creativity, Lydia had been able to make the theme her own.
“So this is a prom, huh?” Beetlejuice looks across the sea of sweaty, adolescent breathers, leaning against the refreshments table. He only takes a moment to take it all in. “Kinda bland, honestly. I mean, come on, did anyone even spike the punch? Eh, quick fix. Grey Goose or Wild Turkey, babes?” He asks, conjuring up a couple of bottles, one in each hand.
“Beetlejuice,” You give him a disapproving look, hoping he has the sense to not actually get a bunch of high schoolers absolutely wasted.
He groans and makes the bottles disappear. “Come on! Not even any pig’s blood? La-ame!” He waves his hand in a tossing motion causing a concerning metal tub to appear, levitating over the stage that’s been set up to announce prom king and queen later in the night.
You roll your eyes at your boyfriend’s disappointment, swatting at him light-heartedly. “You can’t just be popping things in and out of existence in the middle of a crowd, honey. Beej, I told you watching Carrie and Prom Night on repeat would not help you prepare for tonight. No blood. They went in a different artistic direction.”
“Straightedge. Buzzkill. Square,” He pouts, all though he still gets rid of the tub before anyone notices it.
You expect that you’ll be spending a bigger portion of the dance trying to keep Beetlejuice entertained than preventing teenagers from bumping and grinding, if the first thirty minutes are any indication. Beetlejuice keeps pulling you around the dance hall, thinking of ways to “improve” the night which, while intriguing, are likely not covered by the permission slips the parents signed off on.
All though this means that technically you are not fulfilling your duties, you justify this to yourself by remembering that a bored Beetlejuice is a troublemaking Beetlejuice. A far more concerning beast than raging hormones. Still, you know that your attention is not enough to totally sate all his mischievous qualities.
“I haven’t seen you two around here before,” An older woman says, stepping up to the two of you. “Were you two at parent-teacher conferences? Which kid is yours?”
You smile politely, “None, actually. He’s…” You glance at Beetlejuice, uncertain how to describe his relationship to the Deetz family “Lydia Deetz’s uncle,” You decide. “We’re dating– he volunteered to chaperone in Charles’s place.”
“Ah,” The woman says, as if suddenly the appearance which the two of you have makes much more sense.
Beetlejuice is grinning broadly. You know he’s done a lot to repair his friendship with Lydia after extorting her to get a chance at life, and being referred to as part of the family makes him preen. “Yup, that’s me! Good ol’ Uncle Beej.”
“Beej? Ah, yes, Lydia has mentioned you. What’s that short for, anyways?”
“Benjamin,” You reply to the woman with a completely straight face. Your response catches Beetlejuice off-guard and he grins deviously at you. Oh, he does love it when you’re a deceitful little breather. Although you deeply love your boyfriend and think the odd celestial name suits him, you also are careful on the occasions where you have to introduce him to other people. There’s always a chance that, if someone knew his name, they could accidentally end up sending him away. And that would necessitate some very messy explanations.
Normally you introduce him as Lawrence, which always earns quite an indignant pout, but since he beat you to the punch Benjamin will suffice.
“So… Lydia’s mentioned me, has she?” Beetlejuice pries further. You nudge him playfully, able to tell how he’s fishing for compliments.
“Oh, yes. I’m her English teacher, Mrs. Greer.” She extends a hand to shake Beetlejuice’s. He shakes it, and it’s clear she can tell something is off with the way he feels but refrains from mentioning it. “She loves the creative writing assignments. She says she bases many of her stories off of tales you’ve told her.”
“She does?” You both ask at the same time. Beetlejuice’s demeanor brightens even further, while you look a bit more concerned. Lydia’s a smart girl, but she likes to push her boundaries as all teenagers do. You’re sincerely hoping she hasn’t written about anything that’s going to get Charles and Delia called in to the principal’s office on Monday morning.
“Oh, yes,” Mrs. Greer nods. “I had to ask when she had become so familiar with the works of Lovecraft. I would think them a bit much for a child her age, but she said she was simply going off of your descriptions.”
Beetlejuice nods sagely, “Ah, yeah, Cthulu. Great guy.”
You put a pin in that to inquire what the fuck he means by that at another time.
Mrs. Greer coughs. “Anyways, Lydia often spends the lunch break in my classroom, so we chat sometimes. She speaks of you highly and says that you’ve really helped her adjust after her family’s move from the city. She’s perked up quite a lot since she said you moved in with the family,” She smiles.
“...She has?”
“Oh, yes! And she’s such a brilliant girl. You must be very proud of her.”
Beetlejuice is blushing now, just a little. “Uh, yeah! That’s me! Proud, living, Uncle Bee– enjamin!” He says, catching himself.
“Well, don’t let me keep you two all night. You should go out, enjoy the dance floor, two young folks like yourselves,” Mrs. Greer says, saying her goodbyes and stepping back over to a group that you presume to be full of gossipy teachers who were sending glances your way the entire conversation.
“You good there?” You ask Beetlejuice teasingly. He’s gone quiet, which surprises you, because you almost expected him to start floating up towards the ceiling with pride during that conversation.
“Who, me? I’m fine!” He grins at you. “Just, y’know… A bit surprised.”
You roll your eyes. “Beetlejuice, it’s been months since that stuff happened. You’ve worked on dealing with things a bit better. And now you and Lydia have weekly horror movie nights and you beg for her high school gossip like you’re a character in a CW show.”
“It’s always so juicy,” He whines, causing you to laugh.
“Point is,” You emphasize, “It’s very obvious that Lydia thinks a lot of you. And that you think a lot of her.”
For a moment Beetlejuice is just absolutely glowing– somewhat literally, though he’s managing to keep it a little toned down. “Aw, babes, I didn’t realize you thought so highly of me!” You snort and plant a kiss on his cheek.
His gaze scans across the crowd as a romantic slow song begins to play, the first one of the evening. You can tell he’s debating something. You think that he’s maybe about to follow Mrs. Greer’s advice and ask you to dance before he gets a glint in his eye. “Geez, some of these breathers are getting a little too close. Aren’t we supposed to be stopping that?” He asks, snaps his fingers, and the song abruptly switches to the “Cha Cha Slide.”
Beetlejuice is grinning directly at Lydia, who had just been preparing to dance with Sky and who is now glaring over at the demon. He waves his fingers daintily.
“Come on, Beej. Let the kid have her fun.”
“Oh, I will. I’m just making her work for it,” He sits back with a smile.
You lean over, whispering in his ear: “And do I have to work for my fun?”
“Oh, babydoll, don’t you worry,” Beetlejuice replies, voice a little more husky. “Prom is all one big excuse for the post-prom night sex anyways.” He says, sliding a hand around your waist and pulling you closer. “But I wouldn’t mind seeing you shake it on the dancefloor first.”