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bjfinn · 9 months

Text

CHAOS AND CANDY CANES

"Beetlejuice"/"School of Rock" crossover

(thanks to @stinkyhorsebitch for the title suggestion!)

(Lydia's gift for Beej inspired by @lazifyre's artwork)

"Rock and Roll" by Jimmy Page, John Bonham, John Paul Jones & Robert Plant, © Edition JA, Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd., Peermusic Publishing, Royalty Network, Songtrust Ave, Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Universal Music Publishing Group, Warner Chappell Music, Inc

Lydia looked out the window. "Why is there a van parking in our driveway?"

Everyone came over to see. "HE'S HERE!" Beej exclaimed excitedly.

"Who's here?" asked Charles.

"My friend Dewey!" Beej said. Then he stopped suddenly, his hair turning pink. "Uh, is it okay if I invite him over for Christmas?"

"It's a little late for that, BJ!"

"I know, I know -- I forgot, okay? I'm sorry!"

The doorbell rang. "You must be Dewey Finn," Delia said brightly when she opened the door. "It's so nice to meet you -- BJ's told us all about you! Come in, come in, please!"

"Thanks," Dewey said as he knocked the snow off his boots and came in. "Glad to be here." He took off his coat, and Delia hung it on the coatrack.

"Dewey! My old pal! " Beej cried, grabbing his friend and hugging him. "Glad you could make it! It's so good to see you, buddy!"

"You too, Beej," Dewey said. He turned to Delia. "Thanks for telling Beej that I could come."

"Uhh ... well, of course!" she replied, managing to cover up her continued surprise. She shot Beej a look that clearly said We'll talk about this later. "Any friend of BJ's is a friend of ours," Delia told him. "Now let me introduce you to everyone -- I'm Delia, this is my husband Charles and of course you know his -- our -- daughter Lydia ..."

Dewey shook hands with each of them in turn.

"And these are our dear friends, Adam and Barbara Maitland -- oh! I don't know if you can see them -- they're ghosts."

"I can see them, actually," Dewey said with a smile. "It's ... it's nice to meet all of you -- Beej has told me all about you."

"Can I get you something to drink?" Charles asked.

"A beer would be great, thanks," Dewey said. "If you have any, of course -- otherwise, anything will be fine."

Charles headed to the kitchen and returned a moment later with a glass of foamy amber liquid. He handed it to Dewey, who took a sip.

"So BJ tells us you're a music teacher at Horace Green?" Charles inquired. "Good school -- I went there myself."

"Oh wow! Small world, huh?" Dewey replied. "Yeah, well ... actually I -- I'm the music coach. I teach some of the kids after class -- they're really talented! We even formed a band -- The School of Rock."

"I remember reading about it in the alumni newsletter -- you nearly won the ... Battle of the Bands, was it?"

"Yeah," Dewey said, nodding. He took another sip of beer. "Pretty good for a band that was only a couple months old."

"I'd call it extraordinary," Charles said, smiling.

"We'll win next year, just you wait and see."

"From what BJ has told us, it wouldn't surprise me at all -- your passion and dedication to those kids is ... what's the word? Awesome."

Dewey chuckled at that.

"Come on, buddy!" Beej broke in. "Lemme show you around!" And he grabbed Dewey by the hand and pulled him up the stairs.

"He seems like a nice young man," Charles said.

Delia nodded. "I think it's wonderful that BJ has another friend besides us."

"Is it just me, or did anyone else notice that they look ... identical?" Barbara asked. "Beej and Dewey could be twins!"

"I noticed that, too," Adam replied.

"They don't just look alike," Lydia said. "From what I saw in New York, they have pretty much the same personality, too -- like two bratty little kids with ADHD. Especially when they get each other going. And they argue and fight a lot -- like, constantly."

"Well, Beej does bring out the best in people," Barbara noted sardonically.

"I'm sure it won't be that bad," Adam told her.

Lydia rolled her eyes. "We're gonna have our hands full with those two -- just you wait and see."

*****

As it happened, they didn't have to wait long.

Charles had just brought up the box of Christmas decorations up from the basement when there was a loud crash. He, the Maitlands, Delia and Lydia raced up the stairs and stopped at the open doorway to Beej's room. The demon and his human friend were rolling around on the floor, grappling fiercely.

"I told you so," Lydia said. She put two fingers to her lips and whistled shrilly.

The two of them froze in mid-battle and looked over at the Deetzes, eyes wide with surprised embarrassment, and Beej got off of Dewey and helped him to his feet. They stood there, two grown men looking for all the world like a couple of guilty little boys.

"He started it," Beej said.

"Did not!" Dewey retorted.

"What's going on?" Charles asked. Beej and Dewey both began talking at once, and he held up his hand, a bemused smile on his face. "You know what? I don't even want to know. New rule: no wrestling in the house."

"You guys are in trouble! " Lydia said as her father and stepmother headed back downstairs, her voice tinged with glee.

Beej stuck out his tongue at her.

"Come on, you two -- we're gonna start putting up the decorations."

*****

"Sorry about before, Mr Deetz," Dewey said as he untangled the Christmas lights. "Sometimes me and Beej ... we just get a bit carried away."

Charles nodded. "BJ has that effect on people," he said.

"Yeah, I've noticed."

"Hey, I'm standing right here! " Beej said indignantly.

"I noticed that, too," Dewey quipped.

Charles chuckled. He'd never say it out loud, but he was enjoying the way the two of them were interacting -- they might've been full-grown men, but their relationship brought a youthful exuberance to the Deetz-Maitland home. He just hoped they wouldn't destroy the place before the holidays were over.

"Hand me the staple gun, Beej," Dewey said, climbing the ladder. "I'm gonna put these lights up around the window."

Beej handed the gun to Dewey. "Lemme help get it in place," he said. He took hold of the other end of the string of lights and floated up to hold it against the top of the window frame.

"Fuck, man -- I wish you could teach me how to do that!" Dewey exclaimed. "Let it go slack -- just a little ... that's it -- perfect!" He began stapling the lights to the frame. When he couldn't reach any farther, he handed the staple gun to Beej, who stapled the rest of the string into place.

"Why did I hafta do any of it?" Dewey asked, grinning. "You coulda done it all!"

"Yeah, sure," Beej retorted. "Make the six-hundred-year-old demon do all the work! Jeez, you're a real peach, you know that? Why am I even friends with you?"

" 'Cause beggars can't be choosers?"

Charles snorted a laugh.

They finished putting up the decorations -- Beej and Dewey squabbling the entire time -- just as Delia came into the living room. "Dinner's ready," she said. "You guys did a great job!"

"Thanks," Beej said, beaming. "I did most of it myself."

"You liar!" Dewey retorted. "I did most of the work -- you just helped."

"If it wasn't for me --"

"Boys! Boys! " Delia interrupted. "Dinner's getting cold."

The two friends went over to the dining table and took their seats, one on either side of Lydia. Charles and Delia looked at each other, smiling and shaking their heads in amusement, as they joined them.

"So, Dewey," Adam said, "how long have you been a musician?"

"I got my first guitar when I was ten," came the reply. "I've been playing ever since. Music's my life, you know? I -- I don't know what I'd do if I couldn't play."

"He's really good, too," Beej added. "Not as good as me, but --"

"Dream on, pal!" Dewey chuckled. "I could beat you and your little ukulele any day!"

"Says you!" Beej countered. "And it's a banjolele, dumbass!"

"You wanna take me on?" Dewey asked. "Put your money where your mouth is?"

"You're on, pal!" Beej agreed, never one to resist a challenge.

"After dinner -- six-strings at ten paces!"

The Maitlands exchanged amused looks with Charles and Delia as Beej and Dewey bumped fists across Lydia's plate, momentarily preventing her from getting the forkful of roast chicken to her mouth.

"Hey! I'm tryna eat here, you know?" she said in mock annoyance, trying to hide her own amusement.

"Sorry," they replied.

"You're goin' down!" Dewey told Beej.

"Yeah, we'll see about that!"

*****

After the dishes had been put in the dishwasher, everyone headed into the living room for the duel. Dewey checked the tuning on his guitar, and Beej produced his banjolele.

Dewey smirked, but his mouth fell open when the demon turned the miniscule instrument into an acoustic guitar to match Dewey's.

"What?" Beej said smugly. "You think I can't play anything else?"

Dewey glared at Beej. "Let's do this," he said.

"What are we gonna play?"

"How 'bout Led Zeppelin -- 'Rock and Roll'?" Dewey started playing the tune.

"Hold up," Beej said. "If we're gonna do this, let's do it right!" He snapped his fingers, and suddenly Dewey was holding his most prized possession -- the Gibson Les Paul 100 Heritage Cherry Sunburst that had set him back nearly $3000.

Dewey gave the strings an experimental strum with the pick. The sound wasn't muted at all -- despite the fact that the guitar wasn't hooked up to an amp.

Astonished, he looked over at Beej, who now held a black-and-white Gibson EB-3 bass. "How --" Dewey began.

"I keep telling you -- I'm a demon."

Another snap of Beej's fingers and a stand microphone appeared.

"All right!" Dewey exclaimed, stepping up to the mic and thrusting a fist into the air, index and pinkie extended. "Let's ROCK AND ROLL!"

Adam got to his feet and extended his hand to Barbara. Smiling, she placed her hand in his and they started dancing as Dewey took up the lyrics:

It's been a long time since I rock and rolled

It's been a long time since I did the stroll

Ooh let me get it back, let me get it back

Let me get it back, baby, where I come from

It's been a long time, been a long time

Been a long lonely, lonely, lonely, lonely, lonely time

Beej joined in on the second verse, the two of them sharing the mic as if they'd been doing it for years.

It's been a long time since The Book of Love

I can't count the tears of a life with no love

Carry me back, carry me back

Carry me back, baby, where I come from, whoa-oh-oh

It's been a long time, been a long time

Been a long lonely, lonely, lonely, lonely, lonely time

Dewey fell to his knees and leaned back, head-banging as he shredded the guitar solo, and much to everyone's surprise Beej was content to let his friend take it, backing him up on the bass -- a sure sign of just how much Dewey meant to him.

Oh seems so long since we walked in the moonlight

Making vows that just can't work right, oh yeah

Open your arms, opens your arms

Open your arms, baby, let love come running in, yeah

It's been a long time, been a long time

Been a long lonely, lonely, lonely, lonely, lonely time

Yeah-hey, yeah-hey, yeah-hey, yeah-hey

Ooh yeah, ooh yeah

It's been a long time, been a long time

Been a long lonely, lonely, lonely, lonely, lonely time

By the time the song came to an end, both of them were out of breath and drenched in sweat, their hair plastered to their foreheads. The Deetzes and the Maitlands applauded enthusiastically, and the two performers high-fived one another and bumped fists.

"That was fantastic!" Adam said. "You guys are amazing! I wish I could play."

"Thanks," Dewey replied, still breathing hard.

"Well?" Beej asked. "Who won -- me or him?"

"Too close to call," Lydia told him. "It's a tie."

"Well, that sucks!" Beej replied, scowling -- but his hair was a happy bright green.

*****

"I hope you don't mind sharing BJ's room," Delia said. "He insisted -- but there's only one bed, I'm afraid. One of you will have to sleep on the air mattress."

Beej shook his head. "We can share the bed -- we share his bed whenever I sleep over at his place."

Lydia looked at the two of them. "What?"

"Yeah, it's great!" Beej said. "Two hot guys, one little bed ..." He licked his lips suggestively.

"Are you two ...?" Adam asked.

"Huh? No! " Dewey replied, glaring at Beej. "No, nothing like that." He grinned at the misunderstanding. "We're just friends, that's all."

"Good to know," Barbara said brightly.

"I was just kidding around," Beej said. "Jeez! You'd think you two'd know me by now! "

"We do," Adam answered, smirking. "That's the problem."

*****

The next morning when Dewey and Beej came down for breakfast, the former was wearing a black t-shirt emblazoned with rainbow stars and the words "Educational Rock Star".

"What's with the t-shirt?" Lydia asked.

"Huh?"

"It's a bit too small for you, isn't it?"

Dewey grinned sheepishly. "Oh, uh ... yeah, I know," he said. "But ... well, my students gave it to me for Christmas, so ..."

"That's sweet," Delia said. "They must really appreciate you."

"Yeah, they're great kids." He tugged at the neckline of the shirt. "I'm hoping it'll loosen up a bit."

"I think it makes you look hot," Beej said.

"You think everything makes everyone look hot," Lydia countered.

"Hey, you know me -- I'm all about body positivity, kid!"

*****

"I'll have to shovel the walk," Charles said, once breakfast was done.

"Let me do it," Dewey offered.

"No, you're our guest," Charles told him. "I can't ask you to --"

"You're not asking -- I'm offering. It's the least I can do."

Charles considered for a moment, and then he smiled. "All right," he said. "Thank you, Dewey."

"I'll help!" Beej chimed in as Dewey put on his coat, and they headed outside.

Between the two of them, they made short work of the job, and when it was done they high-fived one another.

"I don't think I've ever seen Beej work so hard," Lydia said, grinning -- she'd been watching them through the window. "I'll bet they decided to make a contest out of it, to see who could shovel the most."

Delia and Charles joined her at the window, along with the Maitlands. As they watched, Dewey picked up a handful of snow, packed it into a ball and threw it at Beej when he wasn't looking. Beej turned in surprise to see his buddy preparing another missile, grinned, and grabbed some snow to make his own, and then the two of them were hurling snowballs at each other, laughing and yelling.

Lydia would've liked to join them, but Beej and Dewey deserved to have this moment to themselves -- besides, she was getting a kick out of watching the two friends. She raised her camera and began taking pictures of the scene through the glass.

A massive snowball exploded against Dewey's chest, and he fell backwards. Beej threw himself at his friend and they began wrestling in the snow.

"Look at them," Adam said, grinning. "They're like little kids!"

Barbara nodded. "Dewey's a good influence on Beej, I think."

Lydia raised her eyebrows at that, but said nothing.

Delia, smiling, said, "I'd better make some hot cocoa -- they'll be frozen when they come back inside."

"Do you think they could be related somehow?" Barbara asked.

"How could they be?" Adam asked. "I mean, Beej is a demon."

"Well, Beej said that his dad was a ghost," Lydia put in, "so ... it's a possibility -- they could have a common ancestor hundreds of years ago."

"What an astonishing coincidence that would be," Charles noted. "That they met and became friends without knowing?" He shook his head in amazement.

Delia was struck by a sudden thought. "Do you think we could find out? If it's true, that would be a great Christmas present for the both of them."

"I can't think of a better present," Barbara said. "Beej doesn't have any family except for us, and Dewey's alone ..."

"That would be amazing! " Lydia exclaimed. "They'd be so stoked! We need to find out!"

"I don't know if it'll be possible -- BJ said that his father was alive during the Black Plague," Charles replied. "But there's no harm in trying. I'll make some calls and see if there's anyone who could help --"

"Thanks, Dad!" Lydia said happily, hugging him.

"I may not be able to find any information."

"I know," she said. "It's enough that you're gonna try." She turned to the others. "Nobody say anything about this to Beej or Dewey, okay? If we find out something, I want it to be a surprise -- and if not, I don't want them to be disappointed."

*****

When the boys came back inside, Delia handed each of them a mug of hot cocoa with whipped cream, mini marshmallows and chocolate shavings. "Something to warm you up," she told them as they went into the living room.

"Thanks, De- I mean, Mom," Beej said.

"Yeah, thanks," Dewey echoed. "I haven't had hot cocoa in ... I don't know how long." He took a sip and licked his lips. "I really wanna thank you guys for inviting me. It's ... it's nice to be around family for the holidays, even if it's not my family."

"If I may ask, what happened to them?" Charles inquired.

"Drunk driver," Dewey said simply. "I was thirteen when it happened. They were pronounced dead at ... at the scene. I was in school, and I got called down to the principal's office. I remember wondering what I'd done -- I, uh ... wasn't the best student -- and then he told me what had happened."

"That's awful!" Barbara exclaimed.

"We're so sorry for your loss," Adam told him.

"It was a long time ago," Dewey said with a shrug. "I still miss my mom and dad, but I guess ... I guess I'm used to them being gone." He took a deep breath and shook his head as if to clear it. "It's been a long time since I told anyone about that," he said.

"What happened to you after the ... accident?" Delia asked.

"I went to live with my mom's sister until I graduated -- then I got a place of my own."

"You have no brothers or sisters?" Lydia asked. "No one to spend the holidays with?"

"Nope," came the reply. "I was an only child. And Aunt Carol never had kids, and she, uh ... died. About five years ago. So getting the chance to have a real Christmas again ... it really means a lot to me."

Delia smiled. "Well, you're always welcome here." She turned to Beej. "Are you up for a session today?"

"Okay," he replied.

"Session?" Dewey asked.

"I've been helping BJ get in touch with himself," Delia explained. "Teaching him how to ... be a better person. You can join us if you like."

"It's kinda fun," Beej said.

Dewey shrugged. "Okay -- yeah, sure, why not?"

*****

"Okay," Delia said when they entered her studio -- a boho-chic space replete with macrame wall-hangings, throws, tropical plants, kilim rugs and tasselled floor cushions. And, of course, examples of her artwork. "How about we try a bit of meditation?" She looked at Beej and smiled. "Think you're ready for that?"

"Yeah, sure," he replied. "I'll try it."

"Good. All right," she said, and brought over a small, intricately engraved brass bowl and a wooden striker partially wrapped in felt. Settling herself on one of the large floor cushions, she placed the bowl on a smaller cushion in front of her. "Let's all get comfortable, and we'll start."

The guys sat side by side on the other floor cushions.

"Have you ever meditated before?" Delia asked Dewey.

He shook his head.

"That's okay -- it's BJ's first time, too. Now, put your hands in your lap, like this -- that's right, and take a long, deep breath. Let your body relax ... gently easing any tension you might feel ..."

She gently struck the rim of the bowl with the mallet and then began running it along the outside, producing a soft, rhythmic ringing sound.

"That's an A," Dewey told her.

"You have perfect pitch?" Delia asked. "Impressive. This note helps unlock your Third Eye Chakra in the center of your forehead -- it's for understanding, visualization, intuition, and inner vision."

Dewey glanced over at Beej, who grinned and stuck out his tongue, elbowing his friend in the ribs.

"BJ," Delia chided him gently, before things got out of control. "Focus."

"Sorry," he said, chastened. "I'm just so happy Dewey's here!"

"I know -- we all are," she told him. "But now's not the time for goofing around. Now we need to be calm and serene."

"I don't think Beej knows the meaning of that word," Dewey quipped.

"Oh, and you do?" Beej retorted, grinning.

"Calm and serene," Delia repeated firmly. "Both of you."

"Yes, ma'am," they chorused.

"Maybe we should do something more ... active," she suggested. "Art therapy?"

"That's my favourite," Beej told Dewey.

"Uhh ... I'm not much of an artist," Dewey said.

"You don't have to be," Delia replied, getting two sketch pads and a box of coloured pencils out of the supply cabinet. "It's about getting in touch with your inner self -- the art is just a way to do that."

"Okay, sooo ... what do I draw?"

"I like to draw my family," Beej said. "Or sometimes I draw birds."

"Birds?"

"Yeah, me and Chuck go birdwatching," the demon told him. "I love birds -- there aren't any in the Netherworld. Well, not like the ones Topside, anyway."

"So that's why you were so interested in the ducks when we went to Prospect Park!" Dewey exclaimed. "I've been wondering about that!"

"Sounds like you two had a good time there," Delia said. "How about drawing your memory of it? And remember, it's not about how good the art is."

*****

"BJ," Delia said when he was done, "this is really good! You're really improving! You even tried shading this time -- I'm impressed."

"Thanks, Mom," he replied, his hair turning pink. "It's not as good as Dewey's, though." He turned to his friend. "I thought you said you weren't an artist!"

"I'm not," Dewey answered. "Not really." He'd drawn the same scene as Beej -- the two of them jamming by the lake. "I just draw when ... when I'm writing music and I get stuck. To get things going again, you know?"

"It's really good," Beej said. "Better than mine." There was a note of sadness in his voice, and his hair was shot through with purple.

"It's not a competition, BJ," Delia told him gently.

"I know," the demon replied morosely. "I just wish I could draw that good."

"You'll get better at it," Dewey responded. "Just keep practising, dude."

Beej nodded. He stood up and went out the door without a word.

Dewey and Delia looked at each other.

"I'll talk to him," Delia said.

Dewey shook his head. "Let me do it."

Delia nodded, and Dewey went after his friend.

"Hey, Beej!"

Beej rounded on him. "It's not fair! " he said. "You're better than me at everything! I tried -- I really did! But I'm not as good as you at anything! " Angry tears spilled down his cheeks, his hair reddening.

"Hey! Buddy!" Dewey said. "Listen -- Delia's right, it's not a competition. And you're wrong -- you can play music every bit as good as me! Maybe better."

The demon shook his head. "That's only because I tune in to you!"

"I know. But the thing is, you remember it afterwards, right? You learn, right? It doesn't ... it doesn't just disappear when it's over."

"I guess."

"So you get better at it." He put an arm around his friend's shoulders. "Do you know why I'm good at music? It's 'cause I practise all the time, man! It takes me forever to learn a new chord, or the lyrics to a new song. But you ... you do something once and you got it down pat! I would kill to be able to do that!

"And it's the same with drawing -- you just started doing it a little while ago, and you're already this good?" He held up Beej's drawing.

Beej looked at the picture and then at his friend. "It ... it is pretty good, isn't it?" he said with a chuckle.

Dewey nodded, smiling. "It is. Can ... can I have it?"

"Really?" Beej swallowed the lump in his throat. "You really want my drawing?"

"Yeah, man -- and you can have mine, i-if you want."

Beej grinned, his hair now green.

Delia, who had been watching the exchange from the doorway of the studio, smiled. It warmed her heart that Dewey had known just what to say to make BJ feel better.

*****

"What's goin' on?" Beej asked.

"Oh, nothing," Lydia replied coyly.

Beej bit his lip, his eyes wide, his head moving in that predatory raptor way it always did when he sensed something was up. "You're hiding something," he said. "What're you hiding from me, Lyds?"

"It's a surprise."

Beej's eyebrows shot up. "A surprise? For me?"

She nodded. "For you and Dewey. For Christmas."

He grinned, no longer the apex predator. "What is it?"

"You'll have to wait until Christmas morning."

"Ah, come on! Tell me!"

"No," Lydia told him. "You have to wait."

"Please?"

"Nuh-uh."

"Pretty please?"

"Sorry."

His lip curled in a scowl, his hair turning magenta. "Aaargh! Fine! " he snarled. "I don't even wanna know!" And he stomped out. He returned immediately. "I definitely don't want you to tell me!" He left again, and again he came back right away. "You can beg me all you want -- but you're not allowed to tell me!" He left once more. He stormed back in a third time. "Even if you try to tell me, I won't listen!" And again he left, only to return. "So there! " He slammed the door behind him as he exited one last time.

"Reverse psychology really isn't his strong suit," Lydia chuckled to herself.

*****

Dewey was sitting on Beej's bed tuning his guitar when the demon came in. He looked up and saw the colour of his buddy's hair. "What's wrong?"

Beej flopped onto the bed. "Lydia was mean to me," he muttered.

"What? What'd she do?"

"She said she had a surprise for us for Christmas, but she wouldn't tell me what it is!"

Dewey chuckled. "She wasn't being mean -- that's how Christmas works," he told the demon. "You have to wait to ... to find out what your presents are -- it's part of the fun."

Beej raised himself to a sitting position. "Doesn't sound like fun."

"We'll find out Christmas morning, and that'll make the surprise even better -- I promise." He put an arm around his friend's shoulder. "If you knew what the ... the surprise was, then it wouldn't be a surprise, would it?"

"I guess," Beej said morosely.

"Come on," Dewey said. "Let's jam a bit -- whaddya say?"

Beej brightened at the suggestion. "Okay." He produced his banjolele, and the two of them, sitting on the bed, began playing.

"Hey," Dewey asked suddenly. "What're you getting them? "

"Whaddya mean?"

"For Christmas -- what're you getting them for Christmas?"

"I ... I gotta give presents???" Beej sputtered.

"Well, yeah," Dewey told him. "That's how it works -- everybody exchanges gifts for Christmas."

"You're kidding, right?"

"You didn't get any presents for anyone, did you?"

"No one told me I had to!" Beej wailed. "I mean, how's a guy supposed to know this stuff if nobody tells him?" He looked at Dewey, desperation in his eyes. "You gotta help me! I don't know what to get anybody!"

*****

"Okay," Dewey said, grabbing a sheet of paper and a pencil. "Let's figure out what to get everyone. Let's start with Lydia. I know she's into photography, right? So maybe we can get her something to do with that."

"Like what?" Beej asked.

"Like maybe film for her camera, or ... oh! I know -- how 'bout some supplies for her dark room? She could always use more of that stuff."

"Okay," Beej said, and watched as Dewey wrote "Lydia -- photo supplies?? ".

One by one, they came up with ideas for everybody, until only two names -- Charles and Delia -- remained. They looked at each other.

Beej shrugged. "I don't know what to get them," he said.

"It's okay," Dewey said. "We'll think of something."

"Hey -- what do you want for Christmas?" Beej asked.

"I-I don't know, man," Dewey replied. "It's supposed to be a surprise -- I guess each of us'll hafta ask the others for ideas."

"But they don't really know you," Beej said. "What if they can't come up with anything? I don't wanna not give you something."

Dewey smiled. "It'll be okay, buddy -- you'll come up with something. And anything you get me'll be great."

*****

"What's wrong, sweetie?" Delia asked.

"I don't know what to get Dewey for Christmas," Beej replied. "Can you help me? I really wanna get him something."

Delia thought for a moment. "How about ... you make him something? Homemade gifts are always better than store-bought, because they're made with love."

"Okay," Beej said, "but what?"

"Well, he's a musician, so ..." She paused, stroking her jaw with a finger as she thought about it, until finally she said, "I've got an idea."

"That's perfect! " Beej exclaimed when she told him. "I'll go ask Adam to help me make 'em!"

*****

Dewey opened the door to the attic. "Hey, guys? I ... kinda need your help."

"Hi, Dewey," Barbara said. "Is everything all right?"

"Yeah," he said. "Everything's good -- I just ... I was just wondering if you guys could help me come up with an idea of what to get Dee."

Adam nodded. "Sure thing -- come in."

"Have a seat," Barbara told him.

"Thanks." Dewey sat down in the easy chair and sighed. "I've been wracking my brain tryna think of something, anything, but ..."

"But you just met her," Adam finished.

"Yeah, exactly. I mean, I know she's into all that, uh ... New Age stuff, but --"

"What about Charles and Lydia?" Barbara asked.

"Oh, I, uh ... got Lydia's gift in New York -- before I came," he replied. "Same as Beej's. And I think I have an idea for Charles' gift."

"Well, don't worry," Barbara said. "Between the three of us, we'll come up with some ideas of what you can give Delia."

*****

"Where are you two off to?" Delia asked the next morning after breakfast, when Beej and Dewey put on their coats.

"We're headin' into town," Beej told her. "Dewey's takin' me Christmas shopping."

"Well, have fun," Delia said. "Don't spend too much money."

"Don't worry," Dewey replied with a grin. "I don't have that much to spend."

"And I don't have any! " Beej chimed in brightly.

*****

A few hours later they returned, each carrying two full shopping bags.

"What did you guys get?" Lydia asked.

"Nuh-uh," Beej said. "No way. I'm not telling you anything!"

"You can tell me what you got the others."

"Yeah, and then you'll run and tell them! "

"No, I won't -- I don't want to ruin the surprise for anybody."

Beej looked at her uncertainly.

"Don't trust her, buddy," Dewey said, grinning. "She's smarter than the two of us put together!"

"But she's my BFFFF -- my ... my little sister! "

"Exactly!" Dewey told him. "That's why you can't trust her! Little sisters love to ruin things for their big brothers."

Lydia glared at him comically. "What would you know about that? You're an only child -- you said so yourself."

"I've heard stories," he replied.

Lydia stuck out her tongue at him.

"Sorry, Lyds," Beej said with a shrug. "I gotta trust my buddy on this one -- you'll just have to wait."

Lydia smiled and gave him a hug. "Good," she replied. "I was hoping you'd say that -- you're starting to get the hang of Christmas."

"Wait -- what?" Beej said, looking confused. "You were ... testing me?"

"And you passed with flying colours." She kissed him on the cheek. "I'm proud of you, Beej."

His hair turned bright green, and a goofy grin spread across his face.

*****

"I still don't know what to get Dee," Beej said. He flopped back on his bed, staring up at the rafters. "I mean, she's more of a mom to me than my real mom ever was -- I oughta able to come up with something! "

Dewey frowned in commiseration. "Yeah," he agreed. "Sometimes the people you're closest to are the hardest to get for. Did you ask Adam and Barbara? They're the ones who helped me figure out what to get her -- maybe they can help you."

*****

"Did you want to make Delia a gift?" Barbara asked, when Beej broached the subject with the Maitlands the next morning.

"Yeah, sure," he said. "I'd really like that -- but what?"

Barbara thought for a moment. "I have an idea," she said finally. "And you could make one for Charles as well -- a matching set."

"Okay," Beej said. "Sure, that sounds good. What is it?"

"How would you like to learn to make pottery?"

*****

The next few days were a whirlwind of activity as the Maitland-Deetz household prepared for the upcoming festivities.

Barbara, as always, was in charge of all the cooking and baking, with Delia and Lydia helping. Beej and Dewey lent a hand in the kitchen, as well, when they weren't busy helping Charles and Adam, or just hanging out together and enjoying each other's company -- unless they were quarrelling about something or other. Then someone would have to step in to stop things from escalating.

"Those two sure like to fight," Adam observed -- an argument over whether mashed or roast potatoes were better had almost resulted in all-out war between the two.

Charles chuckled. "Almost like brothers," he said.

*****

The morning of Christmas Eve, Beej and Dewey went with Charles to get the tree, a trip that resulted in yet another argument between the demon and his friend -- this time over which one was the nicest.

"I like this one!" Beej said, picking out a particularly full balsam fir. "It's nice and fat!"

"That one's too bushy," Dewey told him. He pointed to another. "This one's better -- there's more space for the decorations!"

"There's plenty of room on this one!" Beej insisted.

"No there's not!"

Beej scowled. "You need glasses, pal! Look!" he said, thrusting his arm in between the branches. "See? Plenty of --" he tried to pull his arm out -- "plenty of room ... shit! I'm stuck! Help me out, guys!"

Dewey and Charles began to laugh.

"Gimme a hand here!" the demon said. "I can't ... I can't get loose! It's tryna eat me! Let go of me, you fuckin' bastard!" he growled at the tree.

Still laughing, Charles and Dewey grabbed hold of Beej and pulled him free.

"Oof!" Dewey grunted as Beej landed on top of him. "Get off me, you fat fuck!"

This earned him a half-hearted punch from the demon.

"Fuckin' tree ate my glove!" Beej snarled as they got to their feet.

In the end they went with Dewey's choice.

*****

When they arrived home with the tree, the boys helped Charles set it up in the living room, and then it was time to decorate it.

"I'll get the lights on it first," Charles said.

Once that was done, they began opening the boxes of decorations and festooning the tree, an activity that entailed several more arguments between Beej and Dewey.

Charles couldn't stop grinning at the way the two of them were with each other -- he'd already begun thinking of BJ as a son a while ago, and now he'd started feeling the same way about Dewey. The Maitland-Deetz house really felt like a home now.

He was going to miss having Dewey around once he went back to New York.

*****

For Christmas morning, Barbara prepared a big breakfast -- there were bacon and eggs, sausages, toast, pancakes, juice, coffee and tea (for Beej, who hated coffee -- "It tastes like the way I think about Juno," he'd said the first time he'd tried it).

"Look at the spread!" Charles exclaimed.

"I hope it'll be enough," Barbara said.

"It might be too much," Delia told her.

"You're kidding, right?" Lydia said. "Are you forgetting how much these two can eat?" she asked, indicating the demon and his friend.

"Hey!" Beej said, frowning. "You callin' us fat?"

Lydia gave him a pointed look. "If the shoe fits ..."

"Okay," Beej said, grinning affably. "Just checking!" He looked at Dewey. "Race you to the table!"

"Save some for the rest of us!" Adam told them.

*****

Once breakfast was done, everyone headed into the living room. Charles turned on the tree lights.

"What's going on?" Beej asked.

"Time for presents," Lydia said, and gave him his gift. "Merry Christmas, Beej. I made this for you."

Beej took the soft, irregularly-shaped present. "What is it?"

"Open it," she replied.

He tore off the wrapping paper. Inside was a green-haired rag doll wearing a black-and-white striped suit. "It's ... me! " he said, awestruck. "You ... you made this? For me? "

Lydia nodded. "Barbara's been teaching me to sew. And you're always saying that this place could use more you."

"I love him," the demon said, hugging the doll and grinning happily.

"And I didn't forget about you, Dewey," Lydia said.

"You ... you shouldn't have," Dewey exclaimed when he saw his present -- a notebook for writing music, hand-bound with red ribbon and "DEWEY'S NOTES" embossed on the cover between two undulating staves festooned with musical notation.

"A place to jot down your ideas," Lydia said.

"Wow -- this is perfect!" he exclaimed. "Thank you! I ... wow! I ... got you something," he said, giving her a small, square box. "I hope you like it."

Lydia unwrapped the gift and opened the box. She gasped -- inside was a silver chain, and on it was an amber pendant. She held it up to get a better look.

Encased in the amber was a black beetle.

"When I saw it, I ... I thought of you," Dewey said. "Do ... do you like it?"

"It's gorgeous! " she cried, throwing her arms around him. "I love it! Thank you so much!" She undid the clasp and fastened the chain around her neck. "It's perfect!"

"It'll go very nicely with this," Charles said, handing Lydia another gift.

She unwrapped it. "Mom's jewellery box!" she gasped. She lifted the lid, and the tiny ballerina inside began to turn in time to the tune that started up -- Beethoven's "Für Elise".

"She wanted you to have it," Charles told her.

Lydia hugged him, sobbing quietly.

"I got you a present, too," Beej said, giving her a large, rectangular package.

Lydia wiped her eyes and took the gift. She smiled when she saw what he'd given her. "A camera tripod! I've been saving up for one! Thank you so much!" She hugged him, kissing his cheek.

"I'm glad you like it," he said. He looked at Dewey, gave him a wink and a thumbs-up.

Dewey returned the thumbs-up and then pointed a finger at the demon, mouthing the words You owe me.

Beej, grinning mischievously, flipped him off.

"My turn," Delia said. "Merry Christmas, Dewey."

"You're giving me your singing bowl?" he said when he opened the gift. "I ... I can't ..."

"I have others," she told him. "I want you to have it. I think ... it might do you some good. But you can always use it as just a bowl, too."

He looked at her. "It's ... I love it," he said, smiling. "Thanks, Dee."

"I got you something, too," Beej said, handing Dewey a small gift-wrapped box. "I made 'em -- well, with Adam's and Dee's help. But I wrapped it all by myself."

"Thanks, buddy," Dewey said. He unwrapped the gift and opened the box -- inside was a set of six black guitar picks, each initialled with a purple "DF" on each side, as well as a new guitar strap with his name embroidered on it in white.

"These are beautiful!" Dewey said, holding one of the picks up to get a better look at it. "You really made these? Wow!"

Beej nodded, grinning. "You like 'em?"

"I love 'em!"

"Now you can think of me whenever you use 'em."

In return, Dewey gave the demon his present. "Merry Christmas, Beej."

Beej tore off the paper and opened the box. He pulled out a black t-shirt and held it up. On it was a graphic of himself in cartoon style, with the words "I'M THE GHOST WITH THE MOST, BABY!"

"It's me! " Beej exclaimed. He looked at Dewey, tears in his eyes. "You ... you made this for me? "

"Yeah," Dewey said with a smile. "I ... did the design, and I got a friend who does silk-screening. Do you like it?"

Beej nodded silently, overcome with emotion.

Dewey gave him a hug. "I love you, buddy. Merry Christmas."

"It's beautiful, Dewey," Delia told him. "And you said you weren't much of an artist!"

"That's really nice work," Barbara agreed.

"Thanks," Dewey said. He looked down at the floor. "I ... I couldn't think of anything to get you and Adam."

"Oh, that's okay!" Adam said. "What do you get a ghost-couple, anyway?"

"Yeah," Dewey agreed with a nod. "But I wanted to do something." He stood up and got his guitar. "So I wrote you a song."

Barbara and Adam looked at one another in surprise.

Dewey took one of the picks Beej had made for him and began playing softly.

I'll hold you in my arms

For a thousand years or more

Together on wings of love

Above the world we'll soar

Seeing all the changes

That the future will bring

But there's one thing that'll never change:

You're my everything

"I-it's still a work in progress," he said with a shrug.

"That was ... that was beautiful, Dewey," Barbara said, hand over her mouth as she choked back the tears.

"It really was," Adam agreed. "Thank you."

"I'll keep working on it," Dewey told them. "And when it's finished I'll record it for you."

Dewey then gave Charles his present.

"The Stokes Field Guide to Bird Songs!" Charles exclaimed. "And with the accompanying CD! Thank you, Dewey!"

Dewey grinned happily. "I got you something, too, Dee," he said.

"Ooh -- it's heavy!" Delia noted. She opened her present -- inside was a hollow, hemispherical rock lined with amethyst crystals. "A geode! Oh, Dewey, it's beautiful!"

"I ... I didn't see one in your studio," he said. "I thought you might ... need one."

"Where did you find it?" she asked him. "I didn't think there was a place in Winter River ..."

"I got it in Hartford," he replied.

"You drove all the way to Hartford? "

"I took him," Beej said. "Demon Express -- we'll get you there before you leave!"

Delia chuckled. "Thank you, Dewey. And thank you, BJ."

Beej's hair blushed pink, and he smiled happily. "My turn," he said, handing a present to both Delia and Charles. "I made these for you guys -- Babs showed me how."

"Thank you, BJ!" Delia said. She and Charles opened the gifts -- two mugs, one white with "WORLD'S BEST MOM" on it, the other black with "WORLD'S BEST DAD".

"You made these yourself?" Charles asked.

Beej grinned sheepishly. "Well ... the mugs are from the pottery supply store, but I painted them myself -- Babs helped me with the spelling, and she showed me how to glaze and fire 'em so the paint won't come off."

"You did a really good job, sweetheart," Delia told him.

Beej smiled, biting his lip. "Thanks," he said.

"This is for you, Beej," Barbara said.

"What is it?" he asked.

"Open it!" Adam said.

Beej looked inside, and then at the Maitlands. His expression, for once, was unreadable. He reached into the box and took out the object -- a sandworm plushie, fully six feet long. He looked at the Maitlands again, his eyes welling up. "It's ... it's Sandy," he breathed, roughly brushing the tears away. "You made ... you made her for me." He squeezed his eyes shut against the tears, his hair flashing bright green. "She's ... beautiful."

"We know how much you loved her," Barbara said. "And we thought you should have something to remember her by."

The demon threw his arms around the two of them, sobbing uncontrollably. "It's ... she's ... you guys are the best!"

The gift-giving continued, and at last there were only two gifts remaining -- one for Beej and one for Dewey.

"I got you both something else, too," Lydia said, handing them over.

"What is it?" Beej asked, inspecting the flat rectangular package.

"Open it, silly!"

They looked at each other and tore open their gifts. She'd given each of them a book of black construction paper pages with leather-bound covers.

Beej looked quizzically at Lydia. "A book?" he said. "You know I can't read very good."

"Not a book," Dewey said. "A photo album -- one for each of us." He opened the album, and his eyes widened. "Oh, cool! They're photos of us! "

"Really? " Beej asked, opening his album. "Of us? "

Inside were photos of him and Dewey. Some they'd posed for, their arms around each other's shoulders -- but others were candid pictures of them talking, putting up the Christmas decorations, playing music, wrestling, dozing on the couch ... There were other photos as well, of the two of them with Delia and Charles, and with Barbara and Adam.

"When did you take all these pictures of us?" Dewey asked. "I don't ... I don't remember seeing you when these were taken."

Lydia just smiled. "Now you'll be able to remember this Christmas forever."

Beej looked at her with tears in his eyes. "Thanks," he said simply.

"No pictures of you, though," Dewey noted.

"There's room in the back for more photos," Lydia replied. "We'll be sure to get a couple with me before you go back to New York."

"We saved the best for last," Delia said. "We got something for the both of you."

"What is it?" Beej asked, eyes wide in anticipation.

Lydia nodded. "We were all ... struck by how much alike you two look. So Dad did some digging, and he found out something that I -- all of us -- think you'll both love."

Dewey and Beej looked at each other, perplexed.

"There's a possibility -- maybe even a probability -- that the two of you are related," Charles said.

Beetlejuice's face lit up, and Dewey's jaw dropped. "Related? US??? " they chorused in astonishment.

"How ... how is that even possible? " Dewey asked. "I mean, Beej is a demon." He turned to his friend. "No offense," he said.

"None taken," Beej replied affably. "Breather," he scowled comically, giving his friend the finger. Dewey gave it right back to him.

"Beej's father was a ghost," Lydia explained, before things escalated. "That means he was once alive -- and human."

"I called an old friend of mine," Charles said. "He's a professor in the history department at Harvard -- I asked him if he could try to find out anything about BJ's father, and he hadn't been able to learn much. But he did uncover something.

"As it turns out, an Irish sailor, last name Finn, who had recently returned from France aboard a ship called the 'Betalgeose' died in Drogheda in 1348 -- the first recorded death from the Black Plague in Ireland. And he left behind a wife and six children."

"And Finn is Dewey's last name!" Delia exclaimed.

"So if Beej's father is this Irish sailor --" Barbara began.

"And if now, as a ghost, he goes by the name of the ship he was on --" Adam continued.

"He could ... he could be my ancestor," Dewey finished, his voice filled with awe. He and Beej looked at each other, wide-eyed.

"Holy crap! " they both said.

"Beej, you said that your dad had brought the plague to Ireland," Lydia said. "I thought you meant that he'd done it deliberately, after he died, but maybe your father was just a sick guy who went home."

"Of course, there's no way to know for sure," Charles cautioned. "It's still just speculation. Nothing's known for certain -- Finn is a relatively common name in Ireland, after all."

"Uh, yeah, no, of course not," Dewey said, shaking his head. "But it's still an amazing possibility!"

Delia smiled and touched a hand to her bosom. "There may not be proof, but I know in my heart that it's true."

"I think we all know it's true," Adam agreed.

"Of course it's true!" Barbara chimed in. "I mean, just look at the two of you! You're like two peas in a pod! Except one of you is a bit ... mouldy."

"I love you, too, Babs," Beej said, and stuck out his tongue at her.

Then he threw his arms around Dewey. "We really ARE brothers! " he crowed. They hugged fiercely for a long moment, and Lydia raised her camera to capture the moment. When they finally released each other, there were tears in Dewey's eyes. Beej, meanwhile, was openly sobbing, his hair having turned a brighter green than any of them had ever seen before.

"More like his great-great-great-great-great-great uncle, or something," Lydia pointed out. "But yeah, okay -- we can call you brothers."

"This -- this means so m-much to me!" the demon said, his voice hitching. "You g-guys are the b-b-best!" He grabbed Charles in a bearhug. "This is the best Christmas I've ever had! Well, it's the first Christmas I've ever had, but it's still the best! Thanks -- I really mean that, Chuck! You know, it's too bad that people think you're a stuck-up asshole!"

"Beej!" Barbara exclaimed.

"I'm just sayin' he could stand to loosen up a little."

Charles was taken by surprise by the embrace, but he submitted to the demon's display of affection, patting Beej on the back. "Uh ... yes, well ... um, you're welcome." He gently extricated himself from the hug. "And maybe I, uh ... do need to learn to loosen up a bit and not be such a ... stick in the mud."

"I -- wow," Dewey said. "The idea that me and Beej could be related -- that we're family --" he shook his head in amazement. "Thank you for this," he finished, and shook Charles' hand.

"Well, it's not just Beej," Barbara pointed out. "We're his family --"

"Admittedly a strange and unusual one," Lydia quipped.

"-- so that makes us your family, too, now," Adam finished.

"Hey, Lydia," Dewey said, a wicked smile playing across his face. "You know what this means?"

She shook her head. "What?"

"This makes you my little sister. And it means that now you have TWO older brothers!"

Lydia paled at the thought and started backing away from them. "Oh, no. No, no, no, no -- what have I done??? "

Dewey and Beej grinned mischievously at one another, wiggling their eyebrows.

"Let's get her!" Dewey said.

Lydia shrieked as they grabbed her and started tickling her mercilessly. "Help! " she yelled, flailing as she tried to escape. "Oh God help me! Make ... make them stop! Ha-ha! Aaaah! No!!! "

"Sorry, pumpkin," her father replied, grinning broadly. "Now that you have brothers, you need to learn to defend yourself!"

"Da-Daddy, pleeeeease!!! Aaah-ha-ha-ha! Help meeeee!!! No! Nooo!!! "

"Merry Christmas, sweetheart," he said.

#beetlejuice #bjtmtmtm #bjtm #beetlejuice the musical #beetlejuice the broadway musical #beetlejuice musical #dewey finn #school of rock #school of rock broadway #school of rock musical #sor #crossover fanfiction #christmas #christmas fic #chaos and candy canes #bjfinn writing

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