~C1: Pastures new~
Sarah sighed heavily and finally allowed herself to relax. Slowly lowering herself into her favourite chair, she surveyed the unopened boxes all neatly stacked around her, forming some sort of fort. She smiled and could see in her mind, an image of Toby, running among the boxes, pretending to be a brave knight come to save the princess. Leaning over the side, she picked up the only cup she'd unpacked from the kitchenware and sipped her coffee, allowing the heat to course right through her, right down to the tips of her toes.
It'd been three hours, shifting all her new stuff in. And although it felt good to be 'starting fresh', she admitted that she missed a lot of her things. She missed her bed, her wardrobe and even her shelves, which had various scrawling' and 'love notes' written underneath that only she could see when she laid down to sleep.
She shut her eyes and slipped into her mind, picturing where she had come from, where everything used to be in her old apartment and where everything was going to go.
It seemed like a only a year ago she'd moved out of her family home, into her New York apartment, before arranging to come to London.
Coming here was something she'd been planning on doing since she was a teenager and she knew she'd have to study hard to get there. And goodness, did she study.
She worked her way through high school, to college and even when in full time work as a teacher, she managed to gather the courage and the work she'd been saving up over the years and publish her writing. From simple poetry to little stories in the local newspapers, she knew she had talent. It wasn't people telling her that, but it was her own confidence in herself. Eventually, she finished her first story, a familiar tale about a girl travelling to a far off land to rescue something precious that belonged to her.
She was asked on radio stations how she dreamed up this place and the inspirations for the heroine, sidekicks and villain and Sarah merely told the twisted truth: It had come to her late one night when an owl swooped into her house. The characters had all been based off various inspirations in her life and even in her room.
Of course, she left out the part about actually being transported to a magically land and meeting creatures and a king that changed her life forever.
Counting her finances, she bid a short farewell to her family and friends and found her way to New York.
And although it was the nice part, hardly any crime, with a good job and still finding inspiration to write, it felt flat. Empty. She still didn't feel right and knew that, if she ever wanted to run somewhere new, she'd have to move a lot farther away from her old life.
It was hard leaving her father and Toby behind and had grown to respect Karen, realising how much of a hard time she had given the woman, when all she had ever done was love her father and make him happy again, especially after her mother left.
She talked with friends overseas, booked her airline tickets, packed her stuff and found a temporary place to stay as she began to arrange for a new job, a new house and a new start.
She had been lucky. It was her status that helped, the majority of schools knowing the name Sarah Williams as the woman who brought a new generation a sense of magic and strength. Someone had even flattered her by comparing her work to Rowling and although Sarah blushed and thanked the man after the interview, she knew she was going to be uncomfortable with someone who had lied about reading all her book (the man repeatedly getting the character' names wrong) and was trying to extort a date from her (leaving with a firm handshake, he said, 'well, that's the interview over, I'll call you over and possible dinner arrangements to talk over it'.)
A few days after, she was fortunate to be offered another position elsewhere and was happy to tell the 'gentleman' that she was going to an all girls school. Very few male teachers and she felt more comfortable in knowing they would have already been taught the sexual harassment rules before she got there with other tutors.
She had a job, found the most gorgeous house in North London and had finally sent for all her stuff to be sent over.
The only piece of furniture she had brought with her from her old home had travelled with her to her apartment and now was situated in her bedroom. Her vanity was something that not only connected her to home, but was also the one thing that held her secret and allowed communication between herself and old friends.
Her books, her photos and all her small possessions came after.
There was one box she had left right at the bottom, knowing that when she did unpack it, she'd be faced with the smirking face of a statue that bared an incredible and creepy resemblance to a man she knew all too well.
Maybe HE could do with some sexual harassment talks.
She shut her eyes and enjoyed the silence in her flat, the far off traffic nothing more than a dull humming sound outside the window.
Sarah slowly felt herself drift off in her seat, having the awkward night before, so nervous and excited about the move and still getting used to the time zone, even after all this time.
She pictured herself as the confident woman she had become, leaving alone the young, melodramatic teenager that nitpicked at everything.
She felt all her old dance moves coming back. Taking ballet from a young age and then, extra dance classes during college, she maintained the steps and fell into an easy rhythm.
It started off as simple states and became a full out show, gradually, taking the hand of the dancer that joined hers, the firm grip of leather around hers so comforting and reassuring.
Wait-
She jolted herself out of her relaxed state and pushed away from the comfy chair, as if it was responsible for the glimpse she had just had.
"We are not going down that road again."
Realising she had spilled her the contents of her cup onto the floor, she busied herself scrubbing at the small splats on the carpet and for the rest of the afternoon, cleaned and unpacked as much as she could, ignoring the statue and dropping it on a small table in the farther corner of the living room, not admitting to being scared of it if she had placed it in her bedroom.

It wasn't until much later. Everything cleaned, the boxes had disappeared and all her clothes in place, it was home. No painting needed, no new furniture arriving until the next day, and a few new ideas jotted down for some story ideas she had.
She laid down in bed and welcomed the pull into darkness, until the shapes before her eyes shifted and she found herself surrounded by light.

Unlike the first and last time they had properly danced together, Sarah knew Jareth had made some 'changes.'
The room was the same, never changing and the clothes were always the same, but where that had been a clock to remind her of her quest, there was nothing but more expensive looking drapes.
And now, she stood alone in the room, nobody staring or laughing or getting on with their odd party games around her.
And she knew, no matter how many times she turned around and kept on guard, Jareth would always appear behind her. So she stood still and waited for him.
"You look as beautiful as ever." The familiar British drawl came and she felt a presence right behind her, the warmth from his body burning through his clothes and hers.
"And as always," she turned to him, giving a respectful nod of the head, "you look as well dressed and charming as you always do. Your majesty."
Jareth quirked a lip and immediately stepped towards her, his arm entwining around her waist whilst his hand stroked her bare shoulder.
"No need for such formalities Sarah," he leant to whisper in her ear, "we'll old friends, so there is no need."
She shivered but remembered to position her arms as their hands found each other and held on tightly.
"You never want your own friends here any more Jareth. What's wrong? Ashamed to still be dancing with the same girl from over a decade ago?"
Jareth smiled that daunting and arrogant smile that made Sarah want to hit him and kiss him, just to wipe it off his face.
"My dear," Jareth pulled her back closer to him when she attempted to shuffle away an inch or two, "this is your dream, I merely invite myself in. You're the one who makes the changes, not I."
Sarah stopped moving and looked at Jareth, suddenly remembering all the times the ballroom had shifted into a bedroom and all the times he had leant down and kissed her.
"Oh yes, going there again?" Jareth leant down and went to kiss Sarah.
She stayed frozen and it was as if, his lips touching hers, just barely, were what she needed.
'WAKE UP.'

Sarah did not jolt out of bed, but calmly, opened her eyes.
She took a few steadying breaths to control her beating heart and slowly sat up and gazed at her reflection in the mirror. For the briefest moment, there was a glimmer of something there, as if another entity stared back at her, but with a flash of smile, they were gone.
She groaned and forcibly made her way out of the bed, grabbing a blanket and stomping over to her vanity.
"NO, Jareth, not tonight," she draped the blanket over the mirror and made sure it stayed there, "give me ONE night to rest for heaven sakes man."
She calmly walked back over to her bed and threw herself in, tossing and turning for a few minutes and continuously checked over her shoulder to see if the blanket was still in place.
Finally, she managed to lull herself back into sleep, where another dream awaited her, this one, much more different from the previous one.

'She had never been to this part before. Always the same garden, but it grew and mutated and seemed to change and Sarah found herself in a completely different part. The flowers grew high and the vines seemed to rest and entwine against themselves as if an invisible wall had been place.
She shivered though it had always been a warm place for her.
It was as if something was watching her, but as she glanced around, all was peaceful.
She reached out and stroked the familiar flowers, smelling in the scent of jojoba and lavender.
Jareth always treated her in this place. He never turned up, but she knew he had created a little haven from the Labyrinth she loved. It also helped that Hoggle had told her when she'd accidentally given him an alcoholic beverage instead of apple juice.
She spotted a small, scuttling little creature by her feet, beautiful and strange with it's many legs and purple shell.
It hopped gracefully forward along the path and Sarah followed, eventually realising when it hopped farther onwards, she was meant to go down this way.
"Don't go on."
"Stay back."
"Beware. Beware."
Sarah followed the pathway that led up to the wall and went under the archway, as usual, ignoring the false alarms.
"Go back while you still can."
"Soon, it will be too late."
"Take heed and go no farther."
"Sarah."
A voice broke out among the rest and this time, she did stop in her tracks. It was soft, and feminine and definitely not like any false warning she had ever heard. It was almost like a young child.
"Sarah, come find me. I'm locked in here."
She moved forward again, the older sibling inside of her kicking in and she felt her way along the wall when it became a little too dark to see. Then, ahead of her, a purple light from the wall shone down onto a black door a few feet away from her.
"Sarah. I'm here."
A Shrill sounds suddenly broke through the air and Sarah clapped her hands over her ears to stop it, wandering where it was coming from. It sounded like an alarm clock, but the only place she could have had one was in her bedroom-

Sarah did jump out of bed this time and turned to her alarm. She smacked the home made tomato clock on the head and laughed.
"Thanks Tobe, it really did come in handy." She said, remembering her little brother' triumphant face when he'd come home from workshop with something special for each of them.
Passing by the window to get to the shower, she glanced outside merely to view the weather situation in the early hours of the morning, when she saw it again. The same cat as the day before, sitting in the same spot on her wall and staring at the window.
Yes, it was a cat.
And yes, it was probably the next door neighbour', which would explain it's position.
But yesterday, when she had been downstairs and exiting the back to her small garden, it had been there, staring at her before hurriedly scampering away when she attempted to approach it. And today, it was there, staring at her through the bedroom window.
She refused to back down and although, feeling a little silly for holding a staring contest with a cat, she claimed victory when it turned and scuttled along the wall and out of sight.
"Going crazy Sarah, playing games with cats." She turned and laughed as she entered the bathroom, "and talking to yourself. Goblin King might as well come and whisk me off to some asylum."
She snickered again when her mind fed her with the audio of Jareth' deep laughter filling her head.