A/N: The first half of the eagerly anticipated Halloween Fair chapters. I hope you're not disappointed. :) And also, I know I'm awful at portraying a thirty-five year old woman. Please be sympathetic; I'm only sixteen.

Chapter 7: The Mask

By the time they were twenty minutes away from the fair grounds, Sarah was practically bouncing on the seat. Her eye-patch was giving her a slight headache, but she refused to take it off until she had at least made one complete circuit around the fair.

The kids chatted in the back seat, almost too calmly for Sarah's tastes. Why weren't they excited?

Jared's full attention seemed to be focused on driving, but Sarah would occasionally catch him smiling slightly, presumably at her antics.

Sarah watched the trees and the grass fields fly past the windows, wishing they would go faster. She wanted to play games and eat pretzels and buy elaborate Halloween masks, and she didn't want to wait a second later to do it.

The excitement was almost too much when they pulled into the gravel parking lot, searching for an empty space among the hundreds of cars already there. Beyond the fence that encased the grounds, Sarah spotted a juggler, a food stall, and a small, deep blue tent adorned with large, metallic gold stars. Nothing that Sarah could see indicated the purpose of the tent, and she hadn't seen it there in years past—not that she could recall, anyway.

She found herself making small noises of agitation as they came upon filled parking spot after filled parking spot. The fair had just started at noon; in half an hour, that many people had arrived?

"Calm down. We'll come across one in a second." Jared said, keeping his eyes on the lines of cars on either side.

He was right. Literally a second later, they found one.

Sarah was out of the car before it was fully stopped. Her husband sent her a reprimanding glance which she chose to ignore as she hustled Abby, Melanie and Darrin towards the entrance.

Jared paid the entrance fee and Sarah hurried through the gate. Curious, she stepped towards the tent she had seen from the car.

"Come in and have your fortune told by Madame Eudocia," Jared read the sign propped near the tent's entrance, his breath falling on Sarah's cheek. "Haven't done that before, have you?"

"No. I don't think Madame Eudocia has been here before."

"You going to go in?"

"Not yet," Sarah said, turning towards the kids standing a few feet away. Sarah suspected they would attempt to sneak off on their own sooner or later, but she really wanted to keep them with her. "Come on, let's go this way." She started off to the left.

Sarah's pirate costume got a few compliments; nothing like the way people had exclaimed over her in years past. That didn't surprise her. She just wore slightly tattered-looking black pants, an equally worn red-and-white striped shirt, a pair of black boots, and her eye-patch. Her hair was sloppily pulled back, and she carried an obviously fake sword on her belt. She kept her hat hanging on the sword's handle. In fact, she saw a few people in costumes remarkably similar to hers.

In the furthest corner of the grounds, Sarah found her favorite part of the fair—the masks. The lady that sold them spent the rest of the year making them. They were beautiful. Some were basic, simply painted. Others were decorated with feathers, beads, jewels, fake flowers, glitter, and all manner of other adornments. Sarah collected them and hung them on the walls of her bathroom at home. She was really running out of space for them; Jared had allowed her two every year for nineteen years. She kept shifting them around in order to add more without cluttering the walls, but she knew she would have to find a new place for some of them soon. She wasn't looking forward to that; she loved lounging in a softly scented bath while admiring the beautiful masks.

"Sarah, I was hoping you'd come today!" The woman behind the stall's small counter greeted her.

"Of course I came, Frances!"

Sarah turned her attention to the lovely masks, hanging on the back wall, the roof's supports, the front of the counter, laying on the counter….

Her heart stopped momentarily as her eyes fell on one, nearly out of sight on the bottom of the wall.

"I've seen that before…." She whispered softly to herself, trying to place it within her memory.

The ballroom. It had been in the ballroom—it had worn by a woman who had been dancing with Jareth….

Sarah closed her eyes and was suddenly standing in the ballroom again, seeing in the same tilting, fuzzy quality she remembered. The sounds of Jareth's song competed with the noises of the fair—the popping of a balloon, "Sarah, are you ok," the fizz of a drink being poured onto ice, "What's wrong with her," the hard, running footsteps of a child, "Mom, are you ok," the crunch of someone biting into their food, "Did she pass out?" The cool, autumn air had turned hot and sweaty, the scent of a room filled with too many people. She distantly felt Jared's hands on her waist, keeping her from falling, but more distinct was Jareth's fingers on her shoulder, the soft movements as they danced, his mismatched eyes watching her from so close.

There's such a fooled heart…. The rest of the song was lost as Sarah was jerked back into reality.

"Are you ok, Sarah?" Frances had come around the stall's counter and stood before her, holding her head up.

"Oh. Yeah, I'm fine," her voice sounded blurry even to her, and her words unbelievable.

"Would you like to sit down?" Frances persisted, motioning towards her white, plastic lawn chair inside the stall. Sarah had never spoken to her away from the fair, but she considered Frances more of a friend than an acquaintance. She was maybe five or so years older than she, and had apparently been selling her creations at the Halloween Fair since she had been a teenager.

Doubting she would take no for an answer, Sarah cautiously made her way around the stall's flimsy counter. Her family watched expectantly as she sat down. Were they waiting for her to fall over? Burst into song? She wished they would look away, if just for a second.

Sarah ignored the pressing urge to turn around and study the mask. She doubted that would help her situation. Instead, she admired the ones sitting before her.

"What happened there, Mom?" Abby asked. Sarah was touched by the raw concern she made no attempt to hide.

"Nothing. Just felt a little weak for a moment," Sarah replied dismissively.

"Would you like something to drink? A bite to eat?" Frances still stood on the opposite side of the counter. Sarah felt strange, having switched places with her.

"No thanks, Frances. I'm fine now." She let her eyes roam over the masks before her. A pale pink one, graced with pink and white feathers, the lips covered in glitter. A black half-face mask, edged with pearls and sporting lustrous eyelashes lay beside it. Next was a brown one, decorated with fake fall leaves in red, yellow and orange. Sarah liked that one—she didn't have one with leaves on it, she knew.

She stood up, ignoring the protests from Jared, Abby and Frances. Melanie and Darrin watched quietly from the edge of the small group. It hurt Sarah to see that Mel didn't appear the least bit worried, but she chose not to address it.

"I'm sorry about that, Frances. I'm really fine now." Sarah said, joining the group. Frances returned to her chair, muttering about unnecessary apologies.

Sarah left with the brown, autumn inspired mask and, much to her own surprise, the one from the ballroom. She hadn't looked at it when she pointed it out, asking Frances to quickly put it in a bag for her. She didn't fail to notice the strange looks she got from her family, or the way Frances looked at the mask in her hand, quietly voicing her confusion.

Sarah wondered about that. Frances made the mask. She did. She had to.

No she didn't.

She did. Or it wouldn't have been there. She made it.

No she didn't.