Standard Fanfiction Disclaimer: Based on characters and situations created and dramatized by Terry Jones, Brian Froud, Jim Henson, David Bowie, et al. I do not own Labyrinth, nor am I making any money from it.
Chapter 2: An Evening's Entertainment
After returning briefly to her flat to change, Sarah made her way to the upscale restaurant where the dinner was to take place. She knew it was unusual to change for dinner in a business setting, but, with Bryan out of commission, she wanted to make the best impression possible. So, she had dressed with care in a sleeveless, dark green sheath dress that hit just above the knee. The wide neckline almost fell off her shoulders before dipping down into a deep V just above her cleavage. She had pulled her long, dark hair into a simple, soft updo, leaving the graceful curve of her neck bare. She completed the look with black, leather pumps and gold and emerald jewelry. Her relatively conservative ensemble was smart enough to attract attention, but not daring enough to attract too much.
Despite recent trends, the particular section of the insurance industry in which she worked was still primarily a man's world, and, over the years, Sarah had learned how to use that to her advantage. Mr. Jones-King was not the first man to underestimate the young American's abilities based solely on her appearance. While she found such dismissive attitudes distinctly irritating, she secretly reveled in the reactions she inspired in the men around her every time she proved that she was far more than just a pretty face and a good figure.
Hurrying down the sidewalk, Sarah glanced at her watch. She wanted to be the first one at the restaurant to make sure that Marjorie had made the proper arrangements. Not that Marjorie was untrustworthy – far from it, in fact. She was the best secretary Sarah had ever worked with, but Sarah felt the pressure of hosting her first insurance dinner in Bryan's absence and wanted everything to go smoothly.
Reaching for the handle of the restaurant's front door, she was mildly startled when a long, gray-clad arm ending in a black, leather-gloved hand reached past her and pulled the door open for her. She turned and looked into the amused face of David Jones-King.
"After you, Miss Williams," he purred.
"Thank you," Sarah replied, recovering quickly. She led the way into the restaurant, with him following on her heels.
Sarah checked her coat and turned back to face him. They paused, each appraising the other's appearance. It seemed she wasn't the only one who had decided to change for dinner. Mr. Jones-King had traded his navy pinstripe suit for an equally stylish one of deep, charcoal gray, complete with a red, patterned tie and matching pocket square. A black fedora adorned his head, the brim dipping low over one blue eye. The word "debonair" flashed through Sarah's mind, and she realized that it was the perfect word to describe him.
He cocked an appreciative eyebrow as he took in her dress and hair. "This look suits you much more than your business attire, Miss Williams," he said. "Tell me, is this part of the evening's entertainment?"
Sarah fought the flush that was threatening to creep up her neck at his words. Why did so many men seem to feel that it was their right to leer?
"Thank you, Mr. Jones-King," she said stiffly, "but my choice of clothing is not intended to entertain. I merely wished to make a favorable impression."
Deciding to give him a taste of his own medicine, she mimicked his facial expression and cocked an eyebrow, allowing her gaze to slowly drift over him from head to toe. With her in three-inch heels, they were almost exactly the same height, and Sarah could now look him in the eye without needing to tilt her head. Meeting his gaze, she added, "As, it seems, did you."
"Well, you have certainly accomplished your goal, as I hope I have mine," he smirked. "I meant no offense, Miss Williams," he continued in a more contrite tone. "And, please, call me David."
Sarah regarded him skeptically for a moment before deciding that his apology was sincere.
"Thank you, David," she replied with a slight nod. "And you may call me Sarah."
"Very well, then, Sa-rah," he drawled, caressing her name with his deep voice. "Shall we repair to the bar until the rest of your guests arrive?"
Sarah stopped in her tracks. The way David said her name – it was exactly how he had said it. Words spoken so long ago came unbidden to her mind. Turn back, Sa-rah. Turn back before it's too late.
David turned from checking his hat and noted her hesitation.
"Is something the matter?" he asked with a slight frown. "I hope I haven't offended you further."
Sarah shook herself and forced a smile to her lips. "No, you haven't offended me," she replied. "It's just that you…remind me of someone I…knew…a long time ago."
He cocked an eyebrow again. "I hope the comparison is a favorable one," he said.
"That remains to be seen," Sarah replied guardedly.
"Oh, now I am intrigued," David smirked. "You must tell me all about this mysterious 'someone' you knew so long ago and of whom I remind you so much."
Before Sarah could reply, two more of the underwriters entered the restaurant and hailed them. Relieved not to have to discuss the Goblin King with David, she smiled and greeted the new arrivals, slipping effortlessly into her role as hostess.
~o*0*o~
The dinner proceeded smoothly, much to Sarah's relief. The only awkward moment had been when the party had first entered the dining room. Before Sarah could suggest a seating arrangement, David had wordlessly taken the chair to the right of the one she was standing behind, giving her an inquisitive and mildly challenging look, as if daring her to either ask him to move or select a different place for herself. Sarah had chosen not to comment before taking her original seat and allowing the rest of the men to arrange themselves as they saw fit around the long table.
Predictably enough, the conversation focused around insurance. Everyone had a story to tell about some incident or personality within the industry. Sarah had heard many of the same stories before, but she laughed and commented in the appropriate places in order to keep the atmosphere light and the talk from growing tedious. David didn't say much while they ate, but Sarah found his pale eyes on her whenever she happened to glance in his direction. She wasn't sure whether she found his behavior to be flattering or unsettling, but, seeing as how he was new to this particular group and perhaps uncomfortable around people he did not know well, she was willing to make allowances.
Seeing that everyone had nearly finished their desserts and coffee, she summoned the waiter and requested the bill. When it arrived, she reached for it, only to have her hand brush against David's.
"Let me get this, Sarah," he said, giving her a disarming smile.
Sarah raised her eyebrows.
"Thank you for offering, David," she replied, smiling back, "but, I'm hosting tonight. My company invited you, so I'm paying."
She tried again to pick up the little, black book that held the bill, but felt David's warm hand close over hers, arresting her action. Apparently, he had removed his gloves for dinner.
"I insist," he said, staring into her eyes.
Sarah stared back for several seconds. She heard someone laugh farther down the table. Their disagreement over the bill had not gone unnoticed.
"I'm afraid I can't let you do that," she said finally, still smiling. "My boss would have my head on a platter if I let an underwriter pay for this dinner."
"I don't take 'no' for an answer, Sa-rah," David replied. His tone was light, but Sarah sensed something darker lurking behind his eyes.
This is a man who's used to getting his own way, she thought.
"Neither do I, Da-vid," she replied, matching his tone.
David cocked an eyebrow at her. His expression could only be described as impish.
"In that case," he drawled, "I propose a little game."
"A game?" she asked.
"Yes," he said with a smirk, "a game. The winner pays for dinner." He leaned towards her. "What do you say, Sarah?" he asked in a low voice. "Are you up for a challenge?"
Sarah leaned towards him, resting her elbow on the table and her chin in her hand.
"What did you have in mind, David?" she asked, raising her eyebrows inquiringly.
He regarded her for a moment. "Well," he said at last, "we could do shots."
Sarah laughed. "And here I thought you had something more original in mind," she replied, leaning back in her chair. "I'm disappointed, David," she teased with a slight shake of her head.
David's eyes narrowed. "You want something more original?" he asked, almost as if the word were offensive to him.
"More original than doing shots," Sarah countered. "It's positively cliché."
Glancing down the table, she saw that the conversation had ceased, and all eyes were on her and David. The realization made her a bit nervous, but she had not made it this far in her career by backing down when presented with a challenge.
"You must've had something in mind when you suggested a game," she prompted.
A gleam flashed into David's eyes, but was gone almost immediately. Sarah had the unpleasant suspicion that he most certainly did have something in mind, and that it had nothing to do with deciding who would pay the bill. She felt her skin grow warm under his gaze and wondered just how many glasses of wine she had had. Careful, Williams, she thought. Don't do anything stupid.
As though sensing her discomfort, David leaned back in his chair. He eyed her speculatively for a moment, then said, "Tell me, Sarah, how well-versed are you in the theater?"
Her eyebrows shot up again at the non sequitur. "Well enough, I suppose," she replied. "Why?"
David leaned forward again, his eyes twinkling. "Because I've thought of a game we can play."
Not to be outdone, Sarah leaned forward, as well. "Oh, really? And what game would that be?"
David grinned. "Showtunes."
"Showtunes?"
"Yes. One of us will name the title of a song, and the other will name the musical in which it appears. Is that original enough for you?"
Sarah looked skeptical. "And this is how you want to decide whose company pays for dinner?"
"Yes," David responded with a nod. "Unless, of course," he added with a smug look and a dismissive wave of his hand, "you're not up to the challenge."
The Goblin King's words bubbled up on her mind. You're no match for me, Sarah.
"Challenge accepted," she responded without hesitation.
"Excellent!" David said, rubbing his hands together. He gestured towards Sarah. "Ladies first."
"Oh no," Sarah replied with a shake of her head. "This game was your idea. You go first."
"Very well, then." He paused in thought. "'I Won't Grow Up.'"
Sarah laughed. "That one's easy. Peter Pan."
"I had thought it would be a bit before your time."
"I saw the movie version with Mary Martin loads of time. My Mom was obsessed with it when I was a kid."
"I see. Your turn."
Sarah thought for a moment. "'Poor Wandering One.'"
David cocked an eyebrow. "Gilbert and Sullivan. I am impressed," he said. "Pirates of Penzance. 'Some Enchanted Evening.'"
"South Pacific. 'The Surrey with the Fringe on Top,'" she countered, thinking that a Brit wouldn't be familiar with a musical about the Old West. She was wrong.
"Oklahoma!" He leaned forward once again. "'Shall We Dance?'"
Sarah blinked. It was a little too close to home.
"The King and I."
The Goblin King and I, she thought before she could stop herself. She pushed the unwelcome thought away with an effort.
"'I Could Have Danced All Night.'"
"My Fair Lady," David said with a grin. "My favorite. 'Masquerade.'"
That was way too close to home.
"The Phantom of the Opera. My favorite. 'I Dreamed a Dream.'"
"Les Misérables. 'It Only Takes a Moment.'"
Sarah blinked again. "Hello, Dolly!"
Was there a pattern to the songs he was naming? Momentarily at a loss, she blurted out the first song that came into her head, "'Memory.'" Too late, she realized that it was her second Freudian slip in as many minutes – if not her third – as well as an obvious gimme.
David frowned. "Really, pet. That one is far too easy. Cats." Then, as if pressing his advantage, he whispered, "'You Are Beautiful.'"
Sarah stared at him, her eyes widening slightly of their own accord. Had he just said…? She looked down at her lap in confusion, taking a deep breath, then glanced back up just in time to catch the smirk David was giving her before he could wipe it off his face completely. Sarah narrowed her eyes. "Flower Drum Song," she shot out.
David raised his eyebrows. "Well done," he replied. "I thought that one a bit esoteric."
"To most people, perhaps," Sarah replied. "I was raised on Rodgers and Hammerstein." Hoping to trip him up with something more modern, she said, "'No Good Deed.'"
David smiled again. "Wicked," he purred. "'Pinball Wizard.'"
Sarah raised an eyebrow. That was a trick question, and he knew it. "Do you want the movie, or the stage production?" she asked.
"Is there a difference?" he queried.
"The stage production is called The Who's Tommy. The movie was just called Tommy," Sarah replied.
"Touché," David replied.
"'Where Are We Now?'"
"I believe it is your turn," David said.
Sarah knew she had him. "No," she said a trifle smugly, "that's the title of the song: 'Where Are We Now?'"
"Oh, I see." David tried valiantly to recover his poise, but Sarah had obviously stumped him. He paused, considering. Finally, he admitted, "I'm afraid I am not familiar with that one."
Sarah grinned. "It's from David Bowie's musical, Lazarus. It had a very limited engagement right before and after his death. In fact, his last public appearance was at the premiere in New York. It's not very well-known, except to diehard fans like me."
"I see," he said again. "Did you have a chance to see it live?"
"I wish," Sarah laughed. "It was impossible to get tickets."
David gave her a measured look, then stood from his seat and swept her a low bow. "My congratulations, Sarah. It appears that you have bested me."
Without warning, her mind flashed back to her defeat of the Goblin King. You have no power over me. She shook her head slightly to clear it.
"And at your own game, too," said one of the other underwriters. A round of applause burst out from the men seated around the table, who had been watching the contest with great interest.
Startled, Sarah turned back to the group. She had been so engrossed in her game with David that she had completely forgotten the rest of the underwriters and that she was hosting a business dinner. She flushed slightly at the attention. Hastily paying the bill, she stood and began the requisite round of good-byes.
The group slowly made its way out of the restaurant, several men pausing at the coat check to collect various items. Sarah claimed her coat and followed them onto the sidewalk, while David retrieved his fedora. He used the mirror on the wall to adjust it to a properly rakish angle before donning his gloves and following the others outside. When he had joined them, Sarah held out her hand and said, "Thank you for coming this evening, David. I look forward to working with you in the future."
Taking her hand in his, David smiled somewhat wolfishly before replying, "Not nearly as much as I look forward to working with you, let me assure you."
Then, to Sarah's utter amazement, he lifted her hand to his lips and kissed it lightly in farewell before turning and sauntering away into the night.
A/N
Thank you so much to everyone who reviewed and/or PM-ed me. Your encouragement has really kept me going.
A word regarding their height. I did some research and discovered that David Bowie was 5'10", and Jennifer Connelly is 5'7". If she was wearing 3" heels and he was wearing normal dress shoes, they would be approximately the same height. Jareth appears to be much taller than Sarah in the movie because David Bowie was wearing 2-3" heels, making him at least 6' tall, while Jennifer Connelly was wearing loafers. Plus, there's Jareth's hair…