Disclaimer: So we meet again… (breathes deeply) idonotownitnotinanywayshapeorformjimhensondoestheend

Domino

Chapter Two – Here we go Again

By the timeCon onor muore rolled around, Sarah had halfway accepted the Goblin King's presence in front of her. That didn't make it any less of a nerve-wracking experience however.

She'd moved beyond attacking the program, to twirling the chiffon of her dress in her hand, then to rolling the focus on her binoculars incessantly and finally to picking the dark cherry finish off the arm of what must have been an expensive chair. That's what she was doing now. A nice white strip marred the wood.

She couldn't see anything over Jareth's ridiculously outdated hair, but she heard when Butterfly collapsed on the stage. The grande finale.

Drat.

Sarah still hadn't thought of what she was going to say. Maybe John and she could just duck out quietly with no one the wiser.

But still, a nagging part of her mind was intrigued and wanted to know what brought him out of his precious labyrinth. Surely it wasn't her, but she sort of, kind of, just a fraction of a smidgen of an inkling wanted it to be. Probably though it was just a coincidence. That seemed more likely.

Then again, it was the ruler of a race of mythical creatures she was talking about. What exactly constituted 'likely' in these circumstances?

Anything, that's what.

The curtains closed and the lights returned. Jareth's head remained turned away from her. Should she feel relieved or miffed?

Both?

"Wasn't that great, honey?" John asked.

Sarah didn't answer, absorbed in her thoughts.

"Sarah?"

"Yea, sure."

"You didn't like it," John said, looking crestfallen.

"No," she amended quickly. "No, I loved it. It was terrific."

The five minutes of it I saw, anyway…

"I felt the lead was amateur. She was off pitch throughout the entirety of Act II," Jareth said.

Sarah cringed. There would be no 'ducking out'.

"At least you could watch Act II," she grumbled, tactfully avoiding his mismatched gaze.

"Oh I'm sorry," Jareth smirked, "Were you having trouble focusing?"

"I thought you said you were fine," John turned to her.

"I was," she said, but he looked worried. Always worried. "Um… Jareth," she nodded towards him. "It was… erm… interesting to see you again, but John and I have reservations for dinner."

"At Machivelis?" asked Jareth, looking the picture of innocence.

"Well, yes," John chirped. "How did you know?"

"I have reservations, too. Care if we joined you?" He gestured to a girl beside him.

Wait…

Sarah did a double-take. He was with someone, a drop-dead gorgeous, blonde haired, blue eyed someone. The stunning woman was looking away from him right now, seeming bored.

"Sarah," said Jareth, "I'd like you to meet Gwen."

She tried not to feel something like jealousy, but she really couldn't help herself. The small part of her that held her Goblin King fantasies was wondering how in the world she could compete with this. Then John squeezed her hand, and Sarah remembered that she didn't have to.

"Hello," she said politely.

Gwen just nodded, not even bothering to look her in the eye. "I hate it here," she whispered to Jareth.

Sarah grabbed John's hand and tugged. She wouldn't stay where she obviously wasn't welcome.

John was all but dragged from the opera house and down the street, toward the lit-up windows of the five-star Italian restaurant she intended to dine at. Without Jareth.

"What's wrong, sweetheart?" cooed her boyfriend. "Was it Jareth? How come you never told me about him before?"

She rolled her eyes.

"Dover," she told the host. "We have reservations."

"Baby…"

Sarah sighed. "Look, John. It wasn't the opera or Ja… Jareth. I'm just ready for this day to be over."

"You have no idea."

The voice behind her was silk and velvet and red wine. Beautiful. "You followed me?" Sarah snapped at Jareth.

He rolled his eyes. "Come now, Sarah. You act as if I were a villain. Gwen and I have reservations, remember?"

She turned to finally get a good look at him. As she remembered, he towered over her. His wardrobe had changed since the last time though, from tights and sparkling jackets to a sleek, black tuxedo. The sight of him, danger and magic and seduction made corporal, still made her week in the knees.

Gwen beside him shared his otherworldly look, with her porcelain skin and sharp features. Were they dating? Engaged?

Those words seemed too prosaic to be applied to the couple in front of her. Machivelis seemed like a dull backdrop in comparison with their startling presence.

Sarah stood her ground. "What are you really doing here?" she asked finally.

"I came to watch and enjoy an opera," he stated, "although 'enjoy' might be rather questionable. And now, I plan on eating and enjoying my dinner, with or without you. It's that simple really."

"Hey," John said, stepping in front of me. "Don't talk to my girlfriend like that."

Out of anger, and a desire to protect John from complete humiliation, Sarah grabbed his hand, and pulled him toward the door. "C'mon. We'll find someplace else to eat."

"So I gather it will be without you, then?" Jareth called after.

~xXx~

Thirty minutes later, Sarah sat in a filthy chair at a filthy table in Chinatown, fuming. Armed with a plastic fork, she was waging war on her sesame chicken and lo mien, while John looked on. He hadn't spoken in a while. Avoiding conflict with her at all cost was a motto he lived his life by.

"Are you over it?"

"Yes," she mumbled.

"You don't sound over it."

"I'm just fine."

He speared a morsel of pork, before bringing it up to his mouth and chewing slowly. So slowly. Ridiculously slowly.

Just slowly enough so that he'd have an excuse not to make conversation.

"Happy Anniversary," she told after a minute, trying to make up for her snappishness.

"You too," he said, instantly brightening, convinced that the situation was over. He put his hand over hers.

I love him. I love him. I love him.

She knew she'd believe it eventually. Sarah had become quite proficient in lying to herself, although the therapist had to take some credit.

On her eighteenth birthday, five years ago, she'd made the mistake of telling her parents everything. Sarah attempted to show them Hoggle and Ludo and Sir Diddymus in the mirror, but they couldn't see them, not even when they were right there in front of their noses.

Karen had sent her to Pineridge, a mental institution near the hospital, for a week when Sarah wouldn't relent and tell them she was just playing a joke. She could only have visitors from noon to four, those visitors would have to be checked for sharp objects before entering, and there was not one mirror in her room. A psychiatrist would come at nine and stay 'as long as she needed her'.

She would always talk louder to Sarah, like she was Russian instead of crazy. Sarah always wanted to tell her that, but mostly she just sighed and let her yell her heart out.

When she arrived home, Karen had removed all mirrors from the house, except for a very small one she used to apply makeup. Sarah kept up the monthly therapy sessions and soon stopped trying to make contact.

She shuddered to think of that time now. When she had finally freed herself of Karen and went to college, she attempted to call her friends again, but they were always blurry, and she couldn't understand what they were saying. Sarah started therapy again. This time, for a whole new reason.

Sometimes she still saw Hoggle or Didymus, in a mall or a supermarket. But they were still fuzzy, just shapes and smudges.

Sarah had resolved herself to surrender magic, to remain in a penitentiary of the real and mundane for life.

That is, until tonight, when Mr. Magic himself strolled back into her life wearing a tuxedo. And what had she done?

Squandered the opportunity.

The waitress sat the bill down on the table. "Have nice day!"

She'd said that when they walked in, too. Sarah was beginning to speculate it was the only English the woman knew.

Before she walked away, she shoved a fortune cookie into each of their hands.

John peeled the cellophane off his first. "You are…" he started cheerfully, but then his countenance fell. "an incompetent, insufferable fool. What kind of fortune cookie is this?" he cried.

Sarah snickered quietly into her napkin. "Must be a prank one," she said.

"Yeah…" He laughed. "I didn't know they made those."

Me neither.

"Open yours," he encouraged.

Sarah cracked open the cookie and removed the tiny slip of paper.

"I wish the goblins would come take me away right now."

"In bed," added John, smiling. He failed to notice the expression on Sarah's face.

Oh shit.

That was all she had time to say before the universe tilted, all the colors swirled together in a great whirlpool. She hung on to John's oblivious happy face for one moment, before that too was lost into a spiral of glitter and rainbow. Before she knew it, she had landed on her bottom on a hard stone floor.

And so Alice fell down the rabbit hole.

Looking up, she saw Jareth draped across his throne, riding crop in hand. He tapped it against his foot.

Once.

Twice.

Sarah stood up. "Son of a bitch."

"I would greatly appreciate it if you wouldn't insult my mother. She's a rather charming woman actually."

"You tricked me!"

"Yes," he said simply. "You fell for it."

"That's so…"

"What?" He swung his lungs to the front and stood up to face her. "Unfair?"

"Cruel," she bit.

"Don't tell me you're surprised."

"Why am I here?" she asked, narrowing her eyes.

"Because I want you to be."

He approached now, drawing nearer with each click of his polished boots. Sometime between the restaurant incident and now, he had reverted back to his familiar finery. Somehow, the ridiculous ensemble suited him better.

"And I always," he continued, barely an inch away from her, "get what I want."

Although she was melting inside, she made her mouth say something to disguise that fact. "Original."

He leaned back on his heels and cocked one perfect eyebrow. Sarah bit her lip.

"Give me your hand," he said, his tone now harsh and bitter.

She just glared.

Sighing, he grabbed it himself, enveloping her smaller fingers in his long leather-clad ones. Using his teeth, he peeled one glove off his free hand and ran a fingertip across the back of Sarah's.

She couldn't ignore the shivers that ran down her spine. She staunchly denied to herself that they had anything to do with lust, attributing them to the fact that his finger was just icy cold. She looked down at the line he'd traced. It was scintillating. Glitter.

She tried to wipe it off, but it stuck.

With that, he pivoted and walked back to his throne. She followed this time, only stopping when she stood directly in front of him. Over him. In control.

"What was that for?" she demanded.

He pinched the bridge of his nose.

"I'm just trying something."

"Stop being vague! You just kidnapped me for Christ sake. What have you got to lose telling me why?"

"Point. I'm hoping, though, that you'll remember any second now."

She looked into his eyes. They were insistent.

"Remember what?" she cried.

"You don't then…"

What was he talking about?

"Nothing at all?" he asked.

"I don't know what I'm supposed to remember."

Jareth huffed moodily, before grabbing Sarah's hand again.

"Will you marry me?"

If she was Alice, and this was Wonderland, she had now arrived at the tea party portion of the story. The world had gone mad.

She jerked out of his grip. "What's wrong with you?"

He let go and leaned back into his throne again, before crossing a leg and putting his arms behind his head. His eyes closed. "You have three days to decide."

"I decide now. No."

The violent eye peeped open. "Why do you say that every time?" He sounded so forlorn.

"Every time?" she asked, confused.

She didn't get to ponder over it much longer though. Jareth tossed a crystal up in the air.

"Here we go again," was the last thing she heard him mutter before the world exploded again.

~xXx~

The harsh ringing of a telephone was Sarah's wakeup call. Blindly, she shot out hand to search for it, finally finding it and punching 'talk'.

"Ello," she sleepily mumbled into the receiver.

"Hey baby," said the voice on the other end.

"Oh, hey John."

"Guess what day it is?" he burst.

"Saturday?"

There was silence for a minute. "No. Guess again."

"Is this one of those stupid holidays you make me celebrate?"

Last Tuesday had been National Tug-o-War Day. He'd shown up at her apartment with a jump rope.

"Mmm… nope, sorry. Wrong answer."

"Erm… just tell me John."

"It's our sixth month anniversary!"

"Oh!" Sarah grabbed her planner off the nightstand and flipped through till I got to July 13.

Sure enough, she'd scrawled 'anniversary' there.

"I'm so sorry John. I can't believe I forgot!"

"S'okay," he said. "You just woke up."

"I have your present," Sarah told him, trying to prove she didn't forget. "Do you want me to come over now?"

"Nah," he said. "You can give it to me tonight."

"Tonight?"

"Yep. Pick you up at seven. Wear something fancy. Love you!" He hung up.

As she set the phone back down on the table, she noticed something flash on her right hand.

Funny, she thought.

Where did that come from?

A/N: See where I'm going with this, eh? I don't think this particular storyline has been done much. Or at least I hope so. Anyway, thanks to all the brilliant people who reviewed! Keep em' coming, pretty please with a cherry on top. And a banana. And an apple. And, let's just go crazy, through a few mandarin oranges on while we're at it.