My Immortal Lover
By Danika Lareyna
Chapter Two
If You Say Run, I'll Run With You
It was nearly eleven o'clock the following morning when Sarah skulked out of her bedroom, trying to look grouchy and unsatisfied. It was a challenge considering that her emotions were in reality floating about at the extreme opposite end of the spectrum. A fleeting vision of the night before flashed across her mind, causing Sarah to pause in her trip to the kitchen, catching her breath as hot shivers wracked her body. Fortunately, her carefully constructed facade of misery seemed to be pointless, it appeared Briann had already left.
Shaking herself and swallowing the giddy grin that had somehow managed to work its way onto her face, Sarah made it to the small kitchen. Briann had insisted that a kitchen was not a kitchen unless it was done in pastel yellow and white. Sarah had acquiesced but now could not understand why Briann cared, considering she never did any cooking anyway. Sarah was a rather good cook, a fact that she firmly kept a secret from her housemate. Briann had once asked Sarah to make lunch and, after a meal of burnt peanut butter and jelly sandwiches (1), they had come to the mutual conclusion that meals would not be together-time.
Sarah dumped the sloppy remains of her milkshake, utterly forgotten when something better had presented itself (or, rather, himself), down the garbage disposal. As the gloopy concoction dribbled down the drain, Sarah peeked out the insanely cheerful curtains, yellow with white daisies. A heavy fog hung in the air, thick and dark. She smirked; the weather always took such a turn when Sarah had 'company,' reflecting his current mood. Fog meant he was deeply asleep and dreaming. She rather enjoyed it, the world seemed steeped with mystery and enchantment in the swirling gray tendrils of mist, but the weathermen were utterly baffled.
Humming to herself, Sarah set to work. She diced onions and peppers, sliced mushrooms and shredded cheese. As she stood over the stove, stirring her scrambled egg casserole, Briann entered the kitchen looking extremely bleary.
Sarah mentally cursed, she had been sure that the girl had a photo shoot today. Briann pushed a tumble of sunshine curls out of her eyes with perfectly manicured fingers. Even with bed-head the girl looked fully the model she was. Eyeing Sarah's skillet nervously, she asked, "What is that? It actually smells good."
Thinking quickly, Sarah chirped, "It is good! Eggs, mushrooms, cayenne peppers, dill pickles, marshmallows and cheese." She grinned at Briann, looking supremely proud of herself. Fortunately for her, she had the kind of wide-eyed innocent look that kept people from ever suspecting her of lying.
Her housemate looked positively nauseous but replied politely, "Sounds... um, interesting. Unfortunately, I have to be at my shoot in an hour. Thank God it wasn't at some killer time before the sun came up again, huh?"
Sarah nodded, "Right. Stupid early shoots. Very bad." Would the girl never leave her alone?
Briann grabbed a banana and headed back to her room to get ready. Half a minute later Roger or Matthew or maybe Paul was pushed roughly out the door. He wore only a pair of boxers (Sarah was glad that he wore anything at all), the rest of his clothes in a bundle tucked under his arm. He shot a glare at Briann's door and then at Sarah though the entryway into the kitchen. With a few muttered curses about the female gender, Roger or Matthew or maybe Paul dressed himself and left the house.
As Sarah dumped her eggs onto a plate, added some fresh grapes, and poured a large glass of orange juice, Briann re-emerged. She looked perfect, as usual. Of course she would be completely redone when she got to the studio, but heaven forbid she have a hair out of place on the way. Sarah picked up the meal and headed back to her bedroom, no one ate at their little, wobbly dining table.
Sarah reached for the doorknob, plate balanced on one hand and glass held in the crook of her arm, when Briann said, "Hey, I thought you hate mushrooms."
In a light voice, Sarah replied, "Who, me? That's silly, I adore mushrooms!" Giggling airily, Sarah slipped into her room and closed the door firmly. She waited a moment, listening through the wood with her heart in her throat, until she heard the front door open and close. Exhaling, Sarah turned back to her bedroom.
He looked immensely out of place in her room, which was draped in violet with baby blue accents. Even in sleep he looked imposing, like a predator. Not that she had much opportunity to see him sleep, of course. Usually he disappeared shortly after she drifted off. It was a rare treat that he had decided to stay the night, more than likely it meant his subjects were being particularly rowdy and he needed a break. Apparently even the Goblin King got sick of goblins from time to time.
Sarah set the plate and glass on her dresser and moved over to brush a strand of wild, blond hair from Jareth's face. He sighed softly in his sleep and leaned into the warmth of her hand, bringing a pleased smile to Sarah's lips. She almost hated to wake him but felt she had waited quite long enough for the pleasure of his conscious company. No one had ever accused Sarah Williams of being a patient woman.
She leaned down close to him and opened her mouth to whisper his name, but paused. Seized by a wicked impulse, she stuck her tongue in his ear instead. Jareth's eyes snapped open immediately and he jerked away from her. He glared at the woman, raising a hand to wipe away saliva. Choking on giggles, Sarah told him, "It's your own fault. How many times have you woken me up in the same way or worse?"
Jareth's chin lifted and he opened his mouth to reply, but Sarah cut him off by leaping to her feet and fetching the meal she had prepared. With a little grin, she placed the food before him. Jareth looked grumpy but accepted her offer, digging in with relish. Sarah had discovered a while ago that the Goblin King had a rarely-indulged fetish for human food.
As he ate, sitting in bed with Sarah's lavender sheets pooled around his waist, Sarah perched on the foot of the mattress and watched him. She knew how it inflated his already mammoth ego, but she could not help herself. She loved to watch him; the way he moved with casual grace, his elegant but cruel mannerisms and the way he always seemed ready to pounce like a great cat upon its prey, not to mention his achingly perfect good looks. She would never understand why he choose to spend his time with her, but she was not about to complain.
He had inhaled nearly three-fourths of the plate before he glanced up at her and asked, "Are you not going to eat?"
Sarah grinned and shook her head. "No," she replied, "I hate mushrooms."
xXx
"Let me make certain I understand this," Jareth said, "You have terminated your employment, something I urged you to do long ago you might recall, and now in celebration you are going to become some sort of hermit?" Jareth lounged on the couch, one leg thrown over the back, while Sarah moved about the apartment, putting together a box of essentials for her camping trip. She had decided not to mention the use to which the couch had been put the previous night. With Briann in the house no furniture was safe anyway, and very little floor space.
She paused in her packing to give him a dirty look. "First," she replied, "You urged me to quit working permanently to come live at your castle. I left my current job but I plan on finding a new one... eventually."
Jareth's nose went up, "Of course. I can completely understand why you would choose to toil amongst these vermin for insufficient compensation and to dwell in this filthy, overcrowded city rather than to return with me to a land of magic and live in the lap of luxury in my castle."
Sarah grinned at him, "I knew you would."
He glared, but dropped the argument. They had been over this perhaps a thousand times and he still could not understand her reasoning. He knew she hated her life here and would jump at the chance to escape Underground with him. Something held her back though, she would not say what but when Jareth discovered it, he would put an end to it swiftly and ruthlessly.
"And second," Sarah continued, picking up where she had left off before, "I am not becoming a hermit. I'm just going out to be surrounded by nature for a week or so. I need to be alone for a while."
Jareth pouted regally (2). When Sarah walked past him, intent on fetching the flashlight she thought was maybe in the closet, Jareth's hand whipped out and closed around her wrist. With a smooth tug, he pulled her into his lap, trapped in his arms. "All alone?" he asked, trailing his hand up and down her side so that his fingers just barely brushed down her breast, stomach, hip and thigh and up again.
Fight it as she might (which was not really all that hard), Sarah felt herself melting under his touch. A low hum of pleasure rose in her throat as she leaned into him, twining her legs with his. Twisting about, she kissed his neck, just below his ear, and said, "I suppose I could stand a little company..."
Sarah hopped to her feet, leaving Jareth empty-handed and with a bewildered look on his face. She smirked at him, "You could use a vacation from all that Goblin Kinging anyway. I'm glad you decided to come with me."
He blinked a couple of times and said, "Come with you?"
Sarah opened to closet and triumphantly retrieved her flashlight. "Mmhmm," she replied. She turned to him and, in her best imitation of his accent, said, "Come away with me, my dear, even if just for a week."
To Sarah's surprise, Jareth actually looked intrigued. She had fully expected him to laugh her suggestion off; they had never spent more than a night in each other's company. She was delighted when he said, "I suppose I could afford a small holiday."
Laughing happily, Sarah leaned over the back of the couch and wrapped her arms around his neck. "You're really coming? This is going to be so much fun! We'll have campfires and roast hot dogs and go swimming in the lake... Maybe we'll even go fishing!" She giggled, feeling more giddy and excited about this trip than was probably dignified and not caring. "I have to say," she said, "I never thought I would see the great Goblin King sleeping in a tent!"
Jareth pulled her around and back into his lap, she made no attempt to escape this time. He pressed a hot, insistent kiss to her lips and whispered, "Anything for you, Sarah." His hands began roving her body once more and, just before Sarah lost herself completely in his touch, she chuckled at her own hypocrisy and hoped desperately that Briann did not come home early.
xXx
A long time later two bodies lay entwined on the couch, clothing tossed about them at random. Sarah traced her finger in idle patters on Jareth's chest while he stroked her hair. Both breathed deep and slow, eyes heavily lidded with contentment.
Suddenly Jareth's eyes popped open. "Did you say a tent?"
xXx
Author's Note:
(1) - A recipe which takes real talent. My husband made it for me once.
(2) - Yes, it is possible, but only Jareth can pull it off. Don't try, you'll only sprain something.
Unlike Magic Eyes and The Daydreamer and the King, I have no idea where I'm going with this. I'm just sort of letting my brain go where it wants. Apparently my brain really wants to go camping.
Camping with a sexy Goblin King.
Can you blame it?
Also: Game time! I recently purchased the Best of Bowie CDs and have been listening to them far more than is likely good for me. As such, I've decided that the chapter titles for this story will all be lyrics from those songs. Virtual cookies to the first person who reviews with the song that the title comes from! (Ok, so some, like this chapter, will be super easy, but I'll try to throw out some tricky ones.)