Making it Work
Chapter 2
An Outing with Flick-Wick
By three O'clock, Sarah's home was filled with loud music and a wild handful of Jareth's little goons. Four were playing with the TV remote, laughing hysterically at the humans they saw on screen. Two had removed all the pots from the kitchen cupboards and were banging out a metallic rhythm. And in Sarah's bedroom Flick-Wick stood with her master, holding up a men's fashion catalog and turning the pages whenever he commanded.
Jareth looked at the bearded mortals and then back at his own reflection in the full length mirror. All these models had facial hair. He stepped closer to the glass and stroked the smooth skin of his jaw, wondering what they saw in it… wondering for a moment, what he might look like if he too sprouted hair on his face. The moment passed and Jareth sneered. He was a Fae, pure and perfect. Lesser creatures wore hair on their faces, not him. He said so to Flick-Wick and looked to her for confirmation.
Flick rubbed a furry paw against her furry face, so lost in her temporary insecurity that she forgot to respond.
"Well?!" Jareth said loudly, making her jump.
"Yis, Yis Master! They not perfect like you."
He smiled and turned back to the reflection, "Thank you, Flick-Wick. Turn the page."
She did so, revealing another rugged looking human male. In the picture he was leaning against a brick wall, one hand in his pants pocket as he smiled into the distance. Jareth liked this one. He wore a crisp, navy sports coat over an ashy grey sweater, the ice blue of his dress shirt collar instantly drawing his eye. The watch on the man's wrist was a harsh black. It was an altogether sleek and powerful ensemble, and after a summoning spell -and with a roll of his shoulders- Jareth was now magically wearing it too. He shook out his wrists, releasing a slight rain of glitter onto the floor as he examined his new clothes. Jareth buttoned and unbuttoned the jacket, turning to the side, and then turning back again.
He looked down at the house goblin. "What do you think of this one?"
Her eyes widened slightly uncertain how to respond. "Um… I think it is…"
"- form fitting. Human enough to fit in but not beneath my stature to be seen in." Jareth finished for her.
Flick-Wick smiled, thrilled to have been so graciously supplied an acceptable answer. "Yis, Master! Fits form nicely! Regal king be respected but not seem odd to peeples."
Jareth grinned at her and she wiggled happily. "And the blue?" He asked, and even then his words were smiling.
"Is your color, Master."
"Thank you, Flicky. Now put that away, we're heading out." He left the bedroom, Flick-Wick tossing the catalog over her shoulder as she scurried after him down the hall. When the King faced his subjects he was surprised to find them unusually quiet. All six were huddled together on the sofa, their tiny eyes glued to the screen as they watched in awestruck silence the most fearsome monsters they had ever beheld. Jareth looked at the TV, where a program called 'Housewives of Orange County' was featuring a pack of frightful looking females, their faces plastered and stretched in unnatural ways as they bickered and yelled at one another over trivial concerns. He shuttered and turned off the TV with a wave of his hand. The goblins turned to their leader, fear still shinning in their eyes. He bent over the back of the couch and embraced them.
"It's alright," He said, petting their hairy backs, "You're safe here." Flick-Wick quickly hugged her master's leg, seizing the opportunity take part in this rare moment of tender affection. Jareth rose and wiped the hair from his clothes.
"Ok everyone," His commanding voice drew the creatures to attention, "I'm going out on an errand. You know the drill. Sarah returns at five-thirty. I want everything cleaned up and back the way it was before she or I return." They all nodded, shaking their shaggy heads. "What's the rule?" He asked, and they answered in unison:
"Leave no trace!"
"Good. Also, there's some glitter in her bedroom. Take care of that too." With a nod from their King the six goblins set off running, each to attend to a different task around the room. As Jareth walked to the window to check the weather conditions outside, cries from his subjects rose up across the apartment.
"Where is broom!?" One shouted. "Turn up music!" screamed another. The stereo was cranked up all the way and soon the apartment became a stage for the Disney-style-rejects as they bumbled and danced their way through a rigorous cleaning routine.
It was snowing outside, not that that would affect him in anyway, but Jareth knew if he wanted to fit in he'd have to summon a coat before he went out. Looking down at his leg he noticed Flick-Wick, still clinging to his trousers.
"Off." Jareth said and shook himself free. "Flicky, fetch me that blanket there." She picked herself up and ran to the ottoman, grabbing the throw blanket and bringing it back to her master. He took it and with a swift swing of his wrist, transformed it into a dark blue overcoat. This he threw over his shoulders and headed for the door.
"Come Flicky!" He called, and lowered his hand to his side for her to hold. Flick-Wick was delighted. It wasn't always that she was allowed to come with him on his journeys to the outside world. Most of the time she was left to 'guard' the home, where every good house goblin belonged. But on occasion her master needed assistance with his tasks, someone small to scurry into places where he couldn't without getting noticed by the humans. So she excitedly ran to him, put her paw in this gloved hand and swung up onto his mighty shoulder. He opened his coat and she slid inside, nestling herself snuggly against his warm chest as she eagerly peered out over his collar.
"Stop purring." He said shoving her head down and out of sight, "I don't like you vibrating like that, it's distracting."
"Sorry Master." She whispered and did her best to subdue her excitement.
Just as Jareth was about to open the door, a hard banging came from the other side.
"Hey shut up in there!" a voice yelled, slightly muffled through the wood and under the blaring music. "You've been playing that racket for hours, if it doesn't stop I'm calling the-"
Jareth swung the door open, his intense stare silencing the neighbor on the other side.
"…police." She finished, her voice hushed with surprise. The woman looked to be around Sarah's age, though was nothing compared to his Sarah's beauty. She wore a t-shirt covered in Keltic runes with tie-dyed yoga pants. Her green eyes swept over Jareth's perfect face and he knew instantly she was under his spell. He didn't put it on her of course, most mortal women acted this way when they saw him. They just couldn't help it. But he was not pleased with this girl, nor with her aggressive behavior.
"Hi." She said dreamily. "I-I didn't know Sarah had visitors."
"Yes." He said curtly. "I'm just visiting. Do you need something?"
She shook her head still enraptured by his appearance. "Um… no."
"You said the music was too loud."
"Oh, well that's ok. Um. Hey what's your name?"
"That is not important." He said. She nodded in agreement but unable to hide her disappointment. "I'm going out so if the noise doesn't bother you, I'll ask you to move out of my way and let me leave."
"No, no it's fine, I mean who doesn't like to listen to music now and then right? Um, where are you going? Are you new to the city? I'd be happy to show you around."
Jareth shifted in the doorway, looking down on this woman from his tall stature as he studied the interest in her eyes.
"What's your name?" He asked calmly.
"Fay." She whispered, then quickly added, "Well my given name is Haley but everyone calls me Fay." Jareth did not attempt to hide his sneer. She was the farthest thing from a Fae that he had ever seen. Even so, he braced his arm against the doorframe and leaned in close to her saying,
"Haley. I don't like you banging on this door and yelling at Sarah. Even if she's not home to hear it. Do me a favor, and leave her and this apartment alone." Wide-eyed she took a step back. Still dazzled by his beauty but now equally startled by his request. He leaned back and smiled. Adjusting his coat he closed the door to Sarah's place and pushed past her astounded neighbor. Flick-Wick couldn't help herself and scurrying up Jareth's shoulder popped her head out of his collar and stuck her tongue out at the girl as they passed. Haley jumped back, watching in amazement as the tall, blond and handsome sauntered down the hall.
"Was that a cat?!" She called after him.
"Nope." He said and disappeared down the stairs.
The streets in D.C were windy and white on this bright afternoon. It tousled Jareth's long hair and made his sensitive faire eyes wince against the sunlight. When he passed a street vendor on the corner he grabbed a pair of sunglasses off the rack, slipped them on and kept walking. The man selling papers and coffee never noticed, neither did any of the people on the crowded street. Jareth looked around as he mingled with these common folk and his crooked smile grew. He had chosen his disguise well.
From inside his coat Flick-Wick asked, "Master? Why that woman yell at Mistress Sarah?"
"Because she's a stupid plebeian who doesn't know who's she talking to." He answered. His voice was low and harsh, filled with anger at the thought of someone using that tone with his future queen. "God I can't wait to get her out of here. She's suffered this squalor long enough."
"This squalor nicer than last squalor, Yis Master?" Flick-Wick tentatively asked.
"Yes, Flicky, that is true. How I kept from killing that disgusting girl she used to live with, I really don't know."
"Smelly slob?" she asked.
"That's the one." He said. The year that Sarah lived with her old roommate was the worst year of Jareth's life. He had tried to take her away from there so many times, including once when he 'kidnapped' Sarah and brought her down to his castle while she was sleeping –Hoggle gave him such a talking to that Jareth gave in and brought her back the next morning before she woke up. She still didn't know about it to this day.
So yes, Sarah living on her own in a 'nice' apartment was a step up from how it used to be. But there was still so much about this world that Jareth knew was beneath her. He offered her golden palaces, power and magic, an eternity of respect and love where she would never have to worry about death, poverty, war or greed. And yet she wanted to stay here, in this flawed and dirty place, to experience the things she called "important milestones" to living. Well, he thought, that would soon change.
The Goblin King hailed a cab and gave the driver the address of Sarah's gallery downtown. Conjuring the exact amount of mortal money, he paid the man and made his way across the street to the coffee shop on the corner. There he ordered the largest drink they had.
"Scalding hot, and blacker than hell." He told the barista.
The man with tattoos on his arms and a curling mustache laughed and nodded saying, "Awesome dude. Any food to go with that?" Jareth shook his head no, but a rustling in his coat made him stop and change his mind.
"On second thought, a scone, chocolate."
"Good choice," the barista rung up his order and accepted Jareth's money. When he handed over the coffee and scone, the young man couldn't help but eye the obvious bulge in his customer's overcoat.
"We allow dogs, you know," he said smiling. "You don't have to keep him hidden in there."
Jareth turned and walked away. "It's a she." Was all he said. The barista shrugged and greeted his next customer.
He sat down at his usual table by the window and turned his attention across the street. Watching Sarah work was never something he had planned to do, it just sort of happened. One day he found himself wandering around the city, trying to figure out what his betrothed loved so much about this confounded place. The next thing he knew he was standing outside her gallery, a big building with massive glass windows up one side. Jareth had been pleased to find that he could see into the space and observe her as she worked. It wasn't that he worried about her, Kings never worry after all –it isn't in their nature-, but it did calm him to know that she was safe during the day… and happy.
Jareth drank his extra-large, extra-hot coffee and broke off a piece of scone for Flick-Wick. Her tiny paws grabbed the chocolate dough from his hands and pulled it inside her hiding place, nibbling furiously.
"Hey." He said, jostling her with a shrug of his shoulder. "Don't' make a mess."
"Sorry Master." She whispered and took smaller, slower bites. Still, the piece disappeared quickly and she reached a paw out from the warmth of his coat. "More?"
He broke off another piece and that too was snatched and devoured. Jareth's eyes lit up then when Sarah came into view. She was pushing a cart of paintings. Stopping in the middle of the gallery floor she stood with her hands on her hips, examining the walls and pointing out a few spaces to one of her assistants. Jareth smiled as he watched her lead. She was born for this, he thought, just like I was. But there was a gentleness to Sarah's command that he had never possessed. It's what made her so special. It's what made him love her so.
Two women approached his table, standing in his peripheral waiting to be noticed. The Goblin King turned to them. They both gasped slightly, but composed quickly and smiled.
"Hi there, sorry to bother you, but it's just so cute that you're feeding your little dog like that. Can we see it?" Jareth turned back to the window and took a long sip from his coffee.
"She's not very friendly." He said and watched his Sarah set up a tall ladder to hang the new art.
"Oh that's ok." The one woman said, "I have two Pomeranians at home. They're little terrors, I know how small dogs can be."
"Try dealing with seven." He said with a grin, unable to resist teasing them, just a bit. The women giggled as he stood to leave.
"Aw, seven? You must really be a dog person," said the second. "I… love a man who likes dogs." Her voice became sultry as she was clearly flirting with him now. This suited Jareth very much. She was attractive, and his ego always liked to be stroked by attractive women.
"Who wouldn't?" He said with a smile, mimicking ever-so-slightly their silly, bubbly laughter. The two didn't seem to take offense and laughed with him. "Excuse me ladies." He said and stepped outside.
"Wait!" The second woman called, holding onto his arm as she met him outside in the cold. Jareth turned and faced her gaze with his sapphire and emerald eyes. Her hand slipped away as she tried to re-find her words. "Um…" She looked at his coat, "So can I see it? Your dog, I mean."
His expression was blank for a moment but then he smirked and undid the top button on his coat. He held it open and she leaned in expectantly. When the woman saw Flick-Wick she screamed and jumped away. Flicky snickered and laughed like the little maniac she was, loving that she got to be a part of her master's game. Jareth chuckled and closed his coat, putting his sun glasses back on.
"What the hell was that!?" She asked, the charm now gone from her voice. Her friend came outside and joined her, holding her shoulder and looking concerned.
Jareth put out his arms, "What can I say. She's a mutt, but I love her. Have a nice day ladies." He gave them a wave and walked across the street. In the warmth of his coat Flick-Wick hugged him. She loved her master too, very, very much.
In the alley behind Sarah's Gallery, Jareth stopped and looked around. No one was coming from either direction so he opened his coat and took Flick-Wick out. She started shivering the instant she met the cold and tried her best to puff herself up to maintain some kind of warmth. Setting the fur-ball on the lid of a dumpster Jareth then turned his gaze to the sky.
"Alright Flick-Wick, I need you to run a little recon for me."
"Recon, Master?" her voice wavering with her shivers.
"Yes. It means I want you to get some information, and perhaps make a few changes to something. Think you're up to it?" He asked, looking at her over the brim of his shades.
She nodded her head vigorously, completely willing to try any task in order to please her master.
"Good. See that vent up there?" he asked, pointing to a grate several feet above the door.
"Yis Master." She said.
"I want you to crawl in through that vent and into the back offices of Sarah's boss's gallery. It'll be the only room with a computer in it so it'll be easy to find."
Flick-Wick's face lit up at the word. "A clicky, Master?!" She asked, momentarily forgetting her cold.
"Yes, Flicky, a clicky! Your favorite!" Jareth petted her back, trying to focus the excited creature's attention. "Now listen closely, this is very important. When you find the computer you can't under any circumstances start smashing buttons. I need you to carefully use the clicky to look up some information. This is recon, remember it's very serious. And," he added, "I will be very, very cross with you if you disobey me in anyway. No. Smashing. The buttons. Do you understand?"
Her expression grew solemn and grim. She gave a single nod and said, "I Understand, Master."
"Perfect. Now I'm going to lift you up, you crawl inside and I'll guide you through the rest." Jareth scooped the house goblin into his arms and climbed on top of the dumpster. As he raised her to the vent, where warm steam was steadily streaming, she nervously asked,
"Why Master not use door?"
"It's locked." He said
"Why Master not use magic?"
"Because I'll be seen in there and you won't." Suddenly he pulled her back down to face him, giving her a stern look. "Right? If any humans come, even if it's Sarah, you will stay out of site. Don't let anyone see you."
"Ok." She said. He stared at her for a moment, then, deciding she understood him, lifted her once more to the grate. Flick-Wick pulled it loose and climbed inside, letting it fall closed behind her.
"Am inside, Master!" she called. "Is much warmer!"
Jareth slid down the wall and sat on the lid, his long legs dangling over the edge. "Good. Now go find the computer room." He waited, listening for her call as snowflakes light as feathers floated down around him. After a minute he heard,
"Am here, Master!" Her voice was echoing nicely through the vent, just as he anticipated.
"Find the calendar icon!" Jareth called. More silence, this time for quite a while. "It looks like a square with numbers on it!"
"Looking!" her little voice squeaked. " Found it! Am clicking!"
"Ok. Now tell me what you see during the week of January 10th through the 17th."
"It say 'Gala N Y T'."
"Are there any names listed near that title? Sarah's name perhaps?"
There was another pause. "Yis."
"Click it."
For the next five minutes Jareth and Flick-Wick carefully corresponded through the vent in the alley. The commands he gave her were complicated, especially when trusted in a goblin's hands, but he made sure to be very slow and precise so she wouldn't get confused. When Jareth learned the information he needed, it became clear that some edits definitely had to be made. These orders he relayed to Flick-Wick who cautiously transferred the input into the computer. The Goblin King was lucky, lucky he had a servant so fascinated with the tactile response of human technology that she had actually learned to use it with some level of self-control. Though as the minutes wore on, it was getting harder and harder for her tiny happy paws not to forgo their mission and dance all over the keyboard.
Finally the job was done and Flick-Wick left the room as quietly as she had entered it, leaving only a few stray ball of hair to prove she was ever there. Pushing open the vent she leapt onto the shoulder of her King.
"Done Master! Is pleased?"
"Very pleased, Flicky. Well done." He slid off the dumpster and opening his coat helped his little assistant inside. She turned and turned, making circles like a cat before finding its bed. This time when she purred against him he didn't protest. They had succeeded in their mission. The hard part was over.
