[JS][HE]#5 Aisuru's Rubber Ducky sequel
Title: The Soft and Fuzzy Rendition of a Bear Cub Author: Aisuru Email: aisuru_chan@yahoo.com Rating: PG Summary: A sequel to "The Shiny Yellow Plastic Rendition of a Baby Water Fowl," by response to challenge #2 (called "Rubber Ducky" on fanfiction.net). Jareth is once again invading Sarah's personal space.
Sarah awoke with a start. The room was dark and the silence was so stifling that she absently wondered if the absence of noise was what had woken her. Her friends from the underground must have left at some point, but she had no memory of the party ending. In fact, she had no memories after Jareth's disappearing act in her closet.
'Don't think about that,' she cautioned herself. The little voice in her head was silent, making no promises.
She realized that she had somehow made it to her bed, although she hadn't managed much else in bedtime preparations. She was still dressed in both the forest green dress and the grubby pair of jeans. The dirty denim felt disgusting against her legs, so she lifted her hips to wriggle out of them and tossed them onto the floor past her foot-board. This was accomplished without ever lifting her head off her pillow. The dress was really too nice to be slept in, but Sarah couldn't muster the energy or even the desire to hang the dress up in the closet and put on a proper nightgown.
Her hair was in a loose tangle over her pillows instead of the braid she usually slept in. It would just have to remain a mess. Brushing and braiding her hair would require actually getting up. As for her teeth. Sarah ran her tongue over her teeth, trying to convince herself that taking one night off her rigorous dental hygiene regiment would not be so detrimental. She realized her mouth tasted like peach. Peach!
*Too bad it doesn't taste like his kisses,* the voice said, uninvited as usual.
'Don't think about that, either,' she warned herself. The voice didn't respond, which Sarah took to be a good sign. She stretched, still not lifting her head off the pillow, and her fingers brushed against something soft and fuzzy. Now she did sit up, searching the tangle of blankets for whatever she had touched. She found her favorite teddy bear, Lancelot. She contented herself to hugging the bear and resting her head back on the pillow where it belonged. As she closed her eyes, she thought she saw something move in the shadows of her room.
'It is nothing,' she told herself, willing herself to keep her eyes closed and slip away into sleep.
*Didn't you put Lancelot in Toby's crib when you first returned to the Above?* the voice mentioned. "And don't you wonder why you woke up in the first place? And why is your room so unnaturally quiet?*
'Good job freaking yourself out,' she scolded herself. Now her eyes were screwed shut, willing her room to be empty of all presences except herself. Aloud she said, "Okay! Who's in my room? I have a teddy bear and I'm not afraid to use it!"
At the sound of laughter, her eyes flew open, and she scrambled up to her knees in the bed. Someone was in her room. He was in her room. Sure enough, Jareth stepped out of a darkened corner. The moonlight seemed to search him out then, dancing in his white-blond hair, playing at the shadows on his face. His mouth was turned up in a smirk -- *Such a kiss- able mouth* -- and his mismatched eyes shone with dark passion when her eyes lifted from his lips and to his face.
"So it worked?" he asked, highly amused.
Sarah blinked. "What worked?"
He let his eyes drop to her mouth very deliberately. "I gave you something to remember me by," he answered. Sarah blushed. "Ah, I see you do remember," he continued.
*Is he going to kiss me again?*
'Shut up!' Sarah felt defenseless, so she turned to anger. "What are you doing in my room?" she asked, unknowingly clutching Lancelot to her chest.
Jareth frowned. "Maybe I gave you too much of the nectar. You don't seem to remember that I have an invitation."
"What? You drugged me! Any invitation to my house I may have given you under the influence of peach juice shouldn't count!"
Jareth let his eyes wander around her room. "I don't need to drug you to exact an invitation from you," he said. He wandered about her room then, picking up little things as they interested him. "You gave me a permanent invitation when you first summoned me."
Enraged at the way he was going through her stuff, she hurled Lancelot in his direction. Of course, he caught it easily. "Are you giving me another of your toys?" he asked, eyeing the soft and fuzzy rendition of a bear cub. He held it up to his face, looking at the black glass eyes and the worn nose of thread. It smelled like Sarah, and he decided he liked this gift.
"No, I'm not giving you Lancelot. Stop messing with my stuff. Wasn't I in my dad's room when I invited you before? Why don't you go bother them?"
He approached her then, stalking her, his eyes full of mischief and hunger. "Oh, no, Sarah, you misunderstand me," he told her, his voice satin. "The invitation was not to a room or a house. The invitation was to you."
~ Sorry that I have to end it here, but my time ran out. I have ideas for a next part; I just want to find a challenge that fits it! Please review if you like this.~
Title: The Soft and Fuzzy Rendition of a Bear Cub Author: Aisuru Email: aisuru_chan@yahoo.com Rating: PG Summary: A sequel to "The Shiny Yellow Plastic Rendition of a Baby Water Fowl," by response to challenge #2 (called "Rubber Ducky" on fanfiction.net). Jareth is once again invading Sarah's personal space.
Sarah awoke with a start. The room was dark and the silence was so stifling that she absently wondered if the absence of noise was what had woken her. Her friends from the underground must have left at some point, but she had no memory of the party ending. In fact, she had no memories after Jareth's disappearing act in her closet.
'Don't think about that,' she cautioned herself. The little voice in her head was silent, making no promises.
She realized that she had somehow made it to her bed, although she hadn't managed much else in bedtime preparations. She was still dressed in both the forest green dress and the grubby pair of jeans. The dirty denim felt disgusting against her legs, so she lifted her hips to wriggle out of them and tossed them onto the floor past her foot-board. This was accomplished without ever lifting her head off her pillow. The dress was really too nice to be slept in, but Sarah couldn't muster the energy or even the desire to hang the dress up in the closet and put on a proper nightgown.
Her hair was in a loose tangle over her pillows instead of the braid she usually slept in. It would just have to remain a mess. Brushing and braiding her hair would require actually getting up. As for her teeth. Sarah ran her tongue over her teeth, trying to convince herself that taking one night off her rigorous dental hygiene regiment would not be so detrimental. She realized her mouth tasted like peach. Peach!
*Too bad it doesn't taste like his kisses,* the voice said, uninvited as usual.
'Don't think about that, either,' she warned herself. The voice didn't respond, which Sarah took to be a good sign. She stretched, still not lifting her head off the pillow, and her fingers brushed against something soft and fuzzy. Now she did sit up, searching the tangle of blankets for whatever she had touched. She found her favorite teddy bear, Lancelot. She contented herself to hugging the bear and resting her head back on the pillow where it belonged. As she closed her eyes, she thought she saw something move in the shadows of her room.
'It is nothing,' she told herself, willing herself to keep her eyes closed and slip away into sleep.
*Didn't you put Lancelot in Toby's crib when you first returned to the Above?* the voice mentioned. "And don't you wonder why you woke up in the first place? And why is your room so unnaturally quiet?*
'Good job freaking yourself out,' she scolded herself. Now her eyes were screwed shut, willing her room to be empty of all presences except herself. Aloud she said, "Okay! Who's in my room? I have a teddy bear and I'm not afraid to use it!"
At the sound of laughter, her eyes flew open, and she scrambled up to her knees in the bed. Someone was in her room. He was in her room. Sure enough, Jareth stepped out of a darkened corner. The moonlight seemed to search him out then, dancing in his white-blond hair, playing at the shadows on his face. His mouth was turned up in a smirk -- *Such a kiss- able mouth* -- and his mismatched eyes shone with dark passion when her eyes lifted from his lips and to his face.
"So it worked?" he asked, highly amused.
Sarah blinked. "What worked?"
He let his eyes drop to her mouth very deliberately. "I gave you something to remember me by," he answered. Sarah blushed. "Ah, I see you do remember," he continued.
*Is he going to kiss me again?*
'Shut up!' Sarah felt defenseless, so she turned to anger. "What are you doing in my room?" she asked, unknowingly clutching Lancelot to her chest.
Jareth frowned. "Maybe I gave you too much of the nectar. You don't seem to remember that I have an invitation."
"What? You drugged me! Any invitation to my house I may have given you under the influence of peach juice shouldn't count!"
Jareth let his eyes wander around her room. "I don't need to drug you to exact an invitation from you," he said. He wandered about her room then, picking up little things as they interested him. "You gave me a permanent invitation when you first summoned me."
Enraged at the way he was going through her stuff, she hurled Lancelot in his direction. Of course, he caught it easily. "Are you giving me another of your toys?" he asked, eyeing the soft and fuzzy rendition of a bear cub. He held it up to his face, looking at the black glass eyes and the worn nose of thread. It smelled like Sarah, and he decided he liked this gift.
"No, I'm not giving you Lancelot. Stop messing with my stuff. Wasn't I in my dad's room when I invited you before? Why don't you go bother them?"
He approached her then, stalking her, his eyes full of mischief and hunger. "Oh, no, Sarah, you misunderstand me," he told her, his voice satin. "The invitation was not to a room or a house. The invitation was to you."
~ Sorry that I have to end it here, but my time ran out. I have ideas for a next part; I just want to find a challenge that fits it! Please review if you like this.~