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31_days2009-03-04 11:04 am
bane-6.livejournal.com) wrote in 31_days2009-03-04 11:04 am
[March 4] [Beetlejuice] Becoming Less Feral Every Visit
Title: Becoming Less Feral Every Visit
Day/Theme: 4. you become responsible, forever, for what you have tamed
Series: Beetlejuice
Character/Pairing: BJ/Lyds
Rating: PG
“I’m never getting rid of you,” she sighed, looking him in the eye. “Am I?”
“Careful what you wish for,“ he said with a grin like a graveyard fence. “You’d miss me if I was gone.”
Her first impulse was to deny it. It was bad enough that he couldn’t keep those cold hands to himself, but they were always filthy. Six hundred years of grave dirt lingered under those nails, and if the smell was any indication, they had been digging in worse places too. For someone who was supposed to be intangible, he left a lot of handprint smudges and lingering odors.
She got blamed for the smells, but had been able to hide the more physical evidence so far. She was dreading the day that was discovered. He liked to bite and dig in his fingernails, like some sort of feral cat that had learned to enjoy being petted, but couldn’t resist lashing out in close quarters. No one would believe she had a secret boyfriend at school , or even a secret bully. They would probably think she was scratching and biting herself. Who knows what sort of interventions and therapies they would inflict on her then.
He also said things that were a little too true about her and the people she liked, whilst telling her things that she seriously doubted about himself. He was as impossible to ignore as a toothache. He said and did things that appalled and infuriated her. Everything about him was distracting and upsetting and a little scary.
And, in all honesty, she liked it that way. It wasn’t like she had to let him out. He might’ve tricked her into saying his name the first few times, but she was no slouch in the brains department, and as otherworldly as she looked, she had a good grasp of reality. If she was really wanted nothing to do with him, she could’ve managed it. He would’ve made it difficult, of course, would’ve tormented her to the best of his ability through every loophole ever imagined, but if she had just refused to be any fun, he would’ve lost interest. Maybe.
Trusting him a little had worked, though. Letting him out, letting him play among the living, had gentled some of his chaotic impulses. He was still an unrepentant troublemaker of the lowest order, but he followed her rules better than he followed the ones of his own dimension. He was still a wild cat, but he came when he was called, and was more playful than predatory now. And she had to admit she liked it that way, too.
“It’s impossible to miss you,” she said aloud. “When you won’t go away.”
“You’ve no one to blame but yourself,” he said, smirking, and that was also true. She could banish him easily enough, but then what? What would she do if he wasn’t there? And wouldn’t he just be twice as wild when she did call him back? And she would call him back.
So, she wouldn’t argue anymore. She would just enjoy the flattering warmth that came from being the only ankle he rubbed against, no matter what vermin-laden filth he left behind.
Day/Theme: 4. you become responsible, forever, for what you have tamed
Series: Beetlejuice
Character/Pairing: BJ/Lyds
Rating: PG
“I’m never getting rid of you,” she sighed, looking him in the eye. “Am I?”
“Careful what you wish for,“ he said with a grin like a graveyard fence. “You’d miss me if I was gone.”
Her first impulse was to deny it. It was bad enough that he couldn’t keep those cold hands to himself, but they were always filthy. Six hundred years of grave dirt lingered under those nails, and if the smell was any indication, they had been digging in worse places too. For someone who was supposed to be intangible, he left a lot of handprint smudges and lingering odors.
She got blamed for the smells, but had been able to hide the more physical evidence so far. She was dreading the day that was discovered. He liked to bite and dig in his fingernails, like some sort of feral cat that had learned to enjoy being petted, but couldn’t resist lashing out in close quarters. No one would believe she had a secret boyfriend at school , or even a secret bully. They would probably think she was scratching and biting herself. Who knows what sort of interventions and therapies they would inflict on her then.
He also said things that were a little too true about her and the people she liked, whilst telling her things that she seriously doubted about himself. He was as impossible to ignore as a toothache. He said and did things that appalled and infuriated her. Everything about him was distracting and upsetting and a little scary.
And, in all honesty, she liked it that way. It wasn’t like she had to let him out. He might’ve tricked her into saying his name the first few times, but she was no slouch in the brains department, and as otherworldly as she looked, she had a good grasp of reality. If she was really wanted nothing to do with him, she could’ve managed it. He would’ve made it difficult, of course, would’ve tormented her to the best of his ability through every loophole ever imagined, but if she had just refused to be any fun, he would’ve lost interest. Maybe.
Trusting him a little had worked, though. Letting him out, letting him play among the living, had gentled some of his chaotic impulses. He was still an unrepentant troublemaker of the lowest order, but he followed her rules better than he followed the ones of his own dimension. He was still a wild cat, but he came when he was called, and was more playful than predatory now. And she had to admit she liked it that way, too.
“It’s impossible to miss you,” she said aloud. “When you won’t go away.”
“You’ve no one to blame but yourself,” he said, smirking, and that was also true. She could banish him easily enough, but then what? What would she do if he wasn’t there? And wouldn’t he just be twice as wild when she did call him back? And she would call him back.
So, she wouldn’t argue anymore. She would just enjoy the flattering warmth that came from being the only ankle he rubbed against, no matter what vermin-laden filth he left behind.