Title: Brick By Brick

Author: Yodeladyhoo

Summary: It started with a telephone call

Genre: Fantasy

Pairings: Jareth x Sarah

Rating: M

disclaimer (dĭs-klā'mər): noun

1. (law) a voluntary repudiation of a person's legal claim to something

2. denial of any connection with or knowledge of

syn: disavowal

c.1986, 2007 The Jim Henson Company.

LABYRINTH is a trademark of The Jim Henson Company.

Labyrinth characters c.1986 Labyrinth Enterprises.

All rights reserved, but not by me.

All rights are reserved, but not by me. This short story is a work of fiction. All original characters in this story are fictional. Any similarities to actual persons, either living or deceased, are purely coincidental. Permission for the use of the non-original characters has not been requested by the author or granted by the licensor. Locations mentioned in this short story are actual locations and means of transportation within New York City, New York. Permission to use these locations, borough names, street addresses, corporations, and restaurant names have not been requested by the author or granted by the State of New York, the City of New York or restaurant owners. This short story was written for your perusal and pleasure. No compensation, either financial or actual, has been collected or requested.

Plea for Reason: Tighten those seat belts, kiddies, 'cause here we go!

"Hello?"

"Sarah! How wonderful to speak to you and not your machine! I would think that you would be out and about gallivanting!"

Sarah involuntarily put on her wry smile when she heard the contradiction in her stepmother's statement. "No, I'm home. This seems to be the real me and not a machine. What's new, Irene?"

She settled herself on the floor next to the telephone and pulled out a cigarette as her caller started her monologue. "Oh, lots of things; nothing huge, though. I already told you that the Brown's three houses down are expecting their third grandchild." The backhanded laying on of guilt elicited a silent eye roll from the listener. "And Mrs. Leary has a new cat. She says that the two she had needed a third. I just don't understand." Sarah exhaled the cigarette smoke from her nose as not to alert Irene that she was blowing out forcefully. "Oh, do you remember Ms. Hartimer? Our crazy next-door neighbor who is a shrink? I just think that is so hysterical, don't you, Sarah? A shrink who needs a shrink?" The glowing tip of the burning cigarette made large circles in the air as its owner rolled her wrist in an impatient fashion, hoping to move the speaker to get to the point. "Anyway, Mr. Hartimer, her father--I swear, he must be an alcoholic, his skin is so ruddy!--replaced the gas heater in her house and the swearing could be heard all the way around the corner! Oh, are you coming home for the weekend? It's Toby's last weekend home before he ships out."

At this, Sarah sat up. 'Finally!' "It's this weekend?"

"Yes, I know! It's here so soon! Oh, wait. Toby wants to talk to you."

Sarah heard the muffled shuffling as the handset was passed from mother to son. As soon as it cleared up, she chirped with a "Hey, squirt!" She could almost see Toby try not to wince with that the memory of how he earned that nickname in the half-second pause before he continued.

--It was a harried morning as most were when there were four people trying to get out the door on time to their respective schedules. Irene had shouted up to Sarah to make sure that Toby was out of bed before she went to take her shower. With the authority of an older sibling, Sarah opened the door to Toby's room without knocking or warning. She expected him to be sleeping in bed. Toby was still in bed, but he was doing something other than sleeping. She opened the door to hear her brother's gasp of pleasure after his self-induced release. Slamming the door behind her, she leaned heavily against it, closing her eyes and trying to erase the image that was burned into her mind. "Is he up?" Was the question that floated up to her from the kitchen. "Yeah," was her verbal response, 'But probably not anymore!' was the vicious rejoinder.--

"Hey, yourself." 'He never could come up with a good comeback.' "Can you get a couple of square pies from Da 'Vinci's?"

"You want me to schlep all the way to Brooklyn to get pizza to bring it on the MetroNorth?" The indignation was an act and he knew it.

"Yeah."

With a big grin she could not help plastered across her face, she conceded. "Only because you're my favorite brother."

"I'm your only brother."

'Yeah, and you'd better keep your head down in Iraq so I can still have a brother.' "Put your mom back on, please."

Irene was on the other end. "Yes, dear."

"He wants me to bring over pizza."

"That's fine. Oh, Sarah, could we ask a favor of you?"

'Here it comes.' "Sure."

"Your father has an appointment with a new doctor in the City. Could we stay at your apartment overnight?"

Looking at the smoldering cigarette in her hand with guilt, she answered, "Sure. What's up?"

"Oh, nothing serious," which meant it probably was very serious. Sarah had learned over the years that the more off-handed Irene sounded, the more worried she actually was. "Just a specialist about some pain your father has been having in his shoulders."

"Pain?" She stubbed out the cigarette. The acrid curl of its death lingered in her nostrils. "That's something new. How long has that been going on for?"

"Oh, for about ten days now," again, the forced nonchalance. "It wasn't so much in the beginning, but it was sharp enough to see Dr. Haber about. It's been more frequent lately."

Concern seeped into Sarah's voice, "When is the appointment?"

"It's next Thursday, a week from today. I thought we could come in on Wednesday and take you out for dinner."

"Don't be silly. I'll pay."

"We'll argue over it then. Ta-ta!"

'Same old Irene', Sarah thought as she replaced the handset to its base. She lifted the soiled ashtray as she rose from her seat on the floor, carried it into the microscopic kitchen to dispose of its contents, and placed it into sink to wash. After doing so, she went and opened the windows to the brisk, mid-October air that filled the thinning Manhattan streets this Thursday night. She had an apartment to clean and try to make it appear that a smoker did not live there.

Author's Note: Yes, boy and girls, you read correctly—Irene is the stepmother. Whether or not you like the manga, it is sanctioned by The Jim Henson Company. For that reason, I believe it needs to be handled like canon. Now, (you say) if you're treating the manga like canon, what about Toby? Since the manga isn't finished (it's supposed to be complete in Fall of 2009!), We don't know what happens to Toby right now. For argument's sake, I will treat the story of the manga as something he might remember, but maybe only as a dream.

I've done it for you. Now, please return the favor. Review. Thank you.