Lines Between

The implications of a particular song have repercussions.

It was 12:59pm, and Sarah hummed the melancholy stretch of melody to herself as she searched through David Bowie mp3s on iTunes. With a click, the seventh track of Heathen was playing, and the downtempo thrummings of I Would Be Your Slave lilted.

"Ha! That's it." She smiled triumphantly to herself, pleased to finally exorcise that brainbug from her mind. "I knew I recognized that bit."

The Goblin King's presence suddenly crackled behind her like lightning. His voice was deft as an assassin's blade. "What are you listening to?"

She turned to face him. It was vaguely obscene how much menace was sunk into the resonant syllables of that simple query, and she was about to express that thought aloud when she paused, regarding him silently.

Somehow, despite it being a brilliantly sunshine-y afternoon the likes of which happily-ever-afters were made of, the shadows of her home office swirled around him like slick pools of demonic malice. She blinked very slowly, and opted for simplicity in her response. "It's a song from a 2002 David Bowie album."

"And why exactly might you be listening to it?"

His words were like ice chips floating on a glacier river, and she noted that frost tendrils had appeared at the corners of the window.

Bowie's gentle baritone twisted between them. "Do you laugh out loud at me? No one else..."

Jareth's expression chilled further.

Simple. Keep it simple until she knew what the hell was going on. She met his gaze, doing her best not to flinch."It's been in my head."

His smile was hard, his teeth glittering like snow. "I'm sure it has." The shadows surged, their hidden fangs gnashing. "You said to me you would not look at the portrait. You lied."

"The hell I did!" She took a breath, sublimating her righteous indignation into stiff formality, and held his gaze. "I deeply resent that accusation, your majesty."

"Then explain why you are listening to that very song."

She gritted her teeth, her nostrils flaring. "What very song? What does that song have to do with your portrait?"

His gaze sliced at her, measuring her indignant demeanor. But he said nothing.

Bowie's silky baritone cut through the silence again. "Open up your heart to me. Show me all you are..."

It bolstered her courage somewhat, and she raised her eyebrows. "Well?"

After a moment's more scrutiny, he seemed to come to a favorable decision, and both the demon shadows and frost dissolved to nothing in a blink. He bowed slightly to her and sat down in a nearby chair. "My apologies. I should have known you wouldn't break your word."

"Damned right I wouldn't." She took a steadying breath. "Now what was all that about?"

"First tell me why you're listening to that song, if you would."

"It's my honor that just got besmirched here. You answer my question first."

He looked at her for a long moment, then nodded once. "I thought you had broken your word to me-"

She snorted. "Clearly."

"-and were you using the portrait's insights to manipulate me. It made me...ornery."

She eyed him. "That was 'ornery'? With the glowering soul-eating darkness and glacial doom?"

He smiled benignly at her, displaying just a hint of teeth.

"Never mind...well, suffice it to say you've fulfilled your vengeful god quota for the afternoon. And I'll keep it in mind that vengeful gods are a mite tetchy about being manipulated."

He inclined his head courteously. "Much obliged, my honorable lady. And now, if you would relay how you came to be listening to that song?"

She shrugged. "Bits and pieces of it have been appearing in my dreams all week. I finally had enough of the refrain to pinpoint which song it was."

"I don't sit around and wait. I don't give a damn." There seemed to be an understated laughter in Bowie's words that she hadn't heard before.

"I see." Jareth closed his eyes briefly, and a soft sigh of frustration escaped. "Would that one could throttle portraits."

"It's his doing?"

"I would assume. He's been humming that blasted song for the last ten days and looking intolerably smug about it for the last seven. Hence my deduction about you."

"Hmph. What's so special about this song?"

"Nothing, as far as I can tell." He frowned in irritation. "It's a standard yearning, devil-take-you-wait-I-want-you sort of thing. Good melody, but not one of Bowie's better pieces in my opinion. The Labyrinth soundtrack certainly had a bit more life in it, and I quite liked the aggressiveness in Earthling."

She arched an eyebrow. "You know about Bowie's work?"

His lips curved in a wry smile. "When one starts being shifted into a rock persona, one does one's due diligence and learns about that rock persona's oeuvre."

She smiled back, warmed by the humor in his eyes. "Quite sensible. Meanwhile, back to your intrusive portrait. So, what? He's sending a message with that song? Telegraphing his not-all-that-nefarious desires to me? Which happen to conveniently be yours as well?"

A quiet snarl trickled out. "And gloating about it, the meddlesome wretch."

"You did mention his impulse control issues."

"How he managed to connect to your subconscious though...that troubles me. That's novel."

"Something to do with Memory's seed, maybe? You mentioned that played a part in his creation. And you've said it's part of my ancestry."

"That it is." He drummed his fingers thoughtfully against his thigh.

And a fine, well-proportioned thigh it is. She pointedly looked at his face. "You should really explain more about that, by the way. If I knew more, I could help you ponder."

His eyes flashed merrily. "You should really tell more stories to the horde first in order to get more of that explanation. This is a barter system after all." He paused, listening to the current words being sung.

"I would give you all my love. Nothing else is free..."

He spread his hands. "You see? Master Bowie agrees. Tit for tat as a general rule."

She laughed softly, shaking her head. "Of course. Story for story, it is."

"Speaking of..."

"Right - they'll be waiting. I've got a good one today about the King of Winter and a trebuchet."

"Another king? Tsk."

"No one ever said it was another king, your frosty tetchy majesty." Her lips quirked with mischief.

"Noted." There was a definite fondness in his eyes. "And I suppose it's too much to hope that this tale also involves that magical filing system for the library."

"Perhaps. But you never know. You'll have to listen to find out."

"Tragic. How we royalty do suffer."

"If we wait too much longer, it's your throne room that will suffer. Do you remember that mess with the chickens?"

A rueful smile flickered. "Which one?"

"Exactly."

"Perhaps we should be off." He offered his hand.

She placed hers on it. "Do let's, your majesty."