Disclaimer: I don't own anything associated with the Beetlejuice Franchise nor do I make any money from this. I only own the plot and Lucy and like to borrow the other character's for my own twisted amusement.

After the shift in their relationship, nothing seemed to change for the married couple. Well other than having spontaneous and frequent bouts of sex. It should be noted that the occasional quickie, whenever their daughter was napping, was added to their daily repertoire. On top of that, the poltergeist seemed to be handsier. Though even before they were having sex, he had always touched her in little ways as much as possible. Who knew the ghost with the most was such a touchy-feely kind of guy.

Currently, the couple was stretched out in bed blanket hung over their hips, basking in the silence. Lydia snuggled into her husband's broad form while his arm draped across her waist, lightly stroking her stomach in lazy circles.

The quietness of the house was a delightful change for the couple. All they have heard for the past few nights were Lulu’s constant cries over the monitor. The usually happy go lucky child had been fussier than normal, leaving her parents tired, confused and a little on edge. For the life of them, the duo couldn’t figure out what was causing their daughter’s evident distress. Lydia thought that perhaps they were coming down with something. After all, it was the season for it, and the young mother couldn’t ignore the fact that she had started feeling slightly under the weather as well.

The poltergeist broke the silence by whispering in his tired wife’s ear. “Babe, why haven’t you told them yet?” It was a simple question, but one that seemed to add to the already growing stress.

A long drawn out sigh shook her form as she turned to rest on her back peering up at him while her brows furrowed in annoyance. For fuck’s sake, why did he have to bring that up now? Didn’t they have enough on their plate?  How many times have they discussed this and how many times did it end up with them arguing? Damnit, she didn’t want to argue tonight. Hell, she didn’t want to argue with her husband period! “Betelgeuse please, I’m not going to get into this with you again. Are you looking for a fight?” snapped the woman a little too sharply.

His pale brows rose, and his hand left her side to raise in defense. “I’m just asking a question that’s all. I’m not lookin’ for a damn fight, Sweets.”

Lydia’s face scrunched up her tone was even sharper than before. “Then why did you bring it up?” She could see the tick in his jaw begin to flare, a sure sign that he was becoming irritated himself.

Pulling himself into a sitting position, Betelgeuse stared down at his wife with anger storming in his green eyes.  “We’ve been married for three fucking months now. Don’t ya think it’s about time that ya tell them about us?”

She shot back her response, clearly not understanding why this was such a big deal. “Why do you want them to know so badly?”

“Why the fuck not?” He sneered down at her in return, the tick in his jaw increasing with each passing minute.

Lydia didn’t want to fight, and she didn’t desire to have this fucking conversation again. Didn’t he understand how badly the situation could go? She wasn’t sure how her family was going to react to the news. Hell, the months after the incident with the Bio-exorcist and the sham of a wedding, both couples had made it clear about their feelings for the poltergeist. None of those opinions were warm and welcoming.

That nauseous feeling she had been experiencing as of late suddenly returned. 'Oh no.' thought Lydia while trying to hold back the unexpected sensation with a few swallows. Still, the urge didn't cease and appeared to have gotten worse.  If she didn't get out of the room, there would be dinner all over the hardwood floor. Christ, she needed some air that seemed to help the last time. Throwing the covers off, the newlywed twisted away from her upset husband to sit up. Carefully getting out of bed, Lydia threw on her thick robe then quickly padded out of the room without another word. In the hallway, she could hear the dead man swearing loudly either to himself or to her she wasn't quite sure.

Hurrying down the hall, Lydia approached a pair of french doors sucking in slight breaths to try and settle her rolling stomach. When the ill woman reached the wide entrance, she flipped the deadbolt and opened one of the doors enough to slip through. Stepping into the cool night, Lydia grasped the freezing doorknob pulling it closed behind her before trailing to one of the screened-in windows. Her brown gaze stared out at the darkened yard taking in several deep gulps of brisk air. Her arms came up to wrap around her middle while she tried to fight off both nausea and the sudden urge to cry.

Her bottom lip quivered, and liquid began to well up in her tired eyes, causing her lids to blink rapidly to attempt to force them away. Taking in several more breaths still hadn't chased the overwhelming emotion she was feeling. Unwanted tears slid down her cheeks as she silently sobbed in the twilight. She didn't understand why she was feeling like this and being so damn emotional. Could it be the stress or maybe the lack of sleep? Why couldn't she stop crying? What the hell was wrong with her?!

The door behind her softly opened then closed, and the heavy footsteps of her husband echoed on the wooden boards as he quietly approached. Lydia felt his arm snag her waist, drawing her to him so that she was resting against his chest.

Betelgeuse wrapped his free arm underneath the other one and buried his face into her raven mane before pulling slightly away to console her. “Ssh Baby, it’s okay. Fuck. Don’t cry, Sweetheart.” He kissed the back of her head then continued to talk. “I didn’t mean to make ya upset, Babe. I just…I need to know…” He hesitated for a second as if he were struggling to find the right words. His tone was one that Lydia had never heard from the man ever; it sounded almost sad. “Sweets, are you ashamed of us? Is that why you don’t want them to know?”  asked the poltergeist softly.

The question and the unexpected emotion behind it threw her off-kilter, causing Lydia to cry harder. God, she was such a terrible wife. How could she make her husband think that she was ashamed of them? It wasn’t that at all. She was far from being ashamed and was proud to be his wife. Despite his awful reputation deep down he was a good guy. Sure he could be an ass and was crude as hell, but the dead man could also be caring and kind though that depended on who you were.  Through her tears, she let him know that being ashamed wasn’t the case. “I’m not ashamed of us not one bit.”

He slowly turned her around to face him, his forehead rested against hers, as he gently began to question her. “Then what is it, Baby?”

She clung to the poltergeist and sighed, her voice small and soft, “I’m afraid.” Fuck, she was straight-up terrified.

He pulled away brows furrowed in question while he stared into her dark eyes and continued gently to push for answers.  “Afraid of what, Sweets?”

Sniffling lightly, she bit at her trembling lip before resuming, "I'm afraid of how they will react. They've made it bluntly clear that they don't like you. Hell, it is damn right hostile at times. I know that you guys didn't have the greatest first impression of one another, but I want them to like you as I do!"

His green eyes hardened, and a heavy sigh left him while he let go of her waist moving his large hands up to cup her face, “Babes, I know they don’t like me. I have no fuckin’ delusions about that, but I didn’t marry you for their approval. If they can’t handle that shit, then that’s their loss. Baby, the important thing here is that I make you happy and you make me happy. All the other shit is just superficial and fuckin’ insignificant.”

Her sad gaze peered up at him a frown marring the delicate features as her tone dropped even softer than before. “What if they no longer want to speak to me?”

At the sight of her sad expression, her husband’s eyes became frosty, and his voice hardened. “If they do somethin’ like that then they’re a bunch of fuckin’ hypocrites and don’t deserve ya.” His hand moved to the back of her head and tugged it gently to his chest while he lightly kissed her crown.

Lydia closed her eyes and took in a breath, as she thought about what the poltergeist had just said. She knew he was right that there was nothing that she could do if they did decide to disown her. Her face flushed with embarrassment from her ridiculous behavior, then buried it within the folds of his shirt. She was acting like such a child. Christ, what was wrong with her? She pulled back some and tilted her head up, so that her dark brown eyes met the jade ones of her husband, while a frown slid across her lips. “I’m sorry I got so shook up, Honey. I know that you didn’t intend for that to happen. Damnit, I’m not sure what’s wrong with me. I just haven’t been feeling very good. I think I might be coming down with something.”

Betelgeuse let out another sigh and shook his blonde head. “Naw, I shouldn’t be pushin’ ya, Babe. I know you will tell them when you’re ready. I’ll try to keep my hang-ups to myself, sweets, but I can’t always promise. I’ve been told I can be an ass.”

“Yeah, you are, but I like you even when you are being an ass.” She yawned loudly and shivered from the cool night air.

Drawing her closer, he slowly began to move them towards the entrance. "Come on, Babes, let's go back to bed. If you ain't feelin' good, then you shouldn't be outside. Shit, it's colder than a witch's tits out here!" quipped the dead man his bright eyes twinkling while he squeezed her gently to him then leaned in to kiss her temple.

The bizarre mood that Lydia had been experiencing just a few minutes ago was gone as fast as it came. It left the young mother now giggling at her husband antics and snuggling up to his side as he led them into the warm house.