Here's another chapter, because I love you ^.^ Jareth is, once again, highly amusing (to anyone except Sarah) and avoiding the questions. Poor Sarah.

You know I don't own anything. And you know what would happen if I did.

Gimme some sugar.


Chapter Seven

"You still haven't answered my other question." Sarah pointed out as she scanned the dessert menu, looking in particular for anything that did not include the word 'smothered' in its' description. Hm... 'drowned in custard'. That seems more like it...

"Haven't we moved on from that?" Jareth said distractedly, motioning for the waitress.

"Fine." Sarah narrowed her eyes as Jareth's new biggest fan appeared.

"Have you made your choices?" She asked, attention solely on Jareth.

"We'll share the mudcake." Jareth replied, before Sarah could open her mouth to protest.

"Can I get you anything else?" Her double meaning was implicit.

"Not right now." The double meaning was just as strong.

The waitress gave him a seductive little smirk before sauntering off, taking the menus with her.

"Now, where were we?" Jareth smiled pleasantly.

"You're ordering for me now?" Sarah raised an eyebrow, displeasure evident. "And to share?"

"I told you my plans involved 'smothered in chocolate' and you. I didn't name specifics." He grinned, points of his teeth shining. "It's your own fault if you misunderstood me."

"Have I mentioned that you're a fluffy git?" She scowled.

"Once or twice."

Sarah breathed deeply, struggling to remain calm. Run the Labyrinth in thirteen hours? Fine, no sweat. Do her SAT while holding down a part-time job and performing baby-sitting duties at a moment's notice? Piece of cake. Dinner with the Goblin King? That's where she began to unravel.

"Alright, next question. And you're going to answer this one." She pointed a finger at him threateningly.

"Of course." Jareth nodded. "Depending on what it is, mind you."

She glared at him, and he held up his hands defensively. "Alright, alright. No matter what you ask me, I shall answer it. Even if it's something as trivial and inane as 'boxers or briefs?*'. Honestly, Sarah, you really are quite cruel."

"Good." Sarah huffed, then paused. Boxers or briefs? Hm...

As if reading her thoughts, Jareth leaned forward conspiratorially, motioning for Sarah to do the same. "Neither." He whispered, holding a finger to his lips.

Sarah sat back, blinking away a dazzling variety of mental mages that, ah, presented themselves to her. "Oh, ah, erm, right, well... My, ah, original question."

"Ask away." Jareth leaned back in his chair, waving a regal hand.

"Alright... Um, well, ever since I went through the Labyrinth, I've, well, obviously I've had memories of- of that, but the memories... well, sometimes, they don't... They don't fit. There's the memories of when I ran the Labyrinth, and then there are these other memories, that seem so similar, but they're different, they're not- they're not mine. They couldn't be mine. And yet... Well, I was just... I was just wondering, if you, perhaps, happened to, you know, know... anything about... about that..." She trailed off, gazing down at her hands.

Jareth froze, whole body going rigid. His eyes widened and his fists clenched, tendons standing out on the backs of his hands. A forest fire of emotions burned in his eyes, temporarily consuming all rational thought; ecstatic joy, fear, worry, frustration, all were there. For a good minute he stopped breathing as he processed what she had said. She was remembering. The activity he had pinned all his hopes for future happiness on may be successful after all, rather than a mad gamble. He was going to get her back.

"Jareth?" Sarah asked timidly, slightly afraid of his reaction. She resisted the urge to wave her hand in front of his face, the way people did on TV.

"Those are your memories." He whispered softly, body relaxing but eyes still focused on something far, far away.

"What? What do you mean?" Sarah pressed.

"Hm?" Jareth blinked, coming back to reality. "Don't worry, precious thing. Your questions shall be answered, just not tonight."

"Hey! You promised!" Sarah cried, indignant.

"Hush." Jareth placed a hand over hers. "I promised I would answer, but I didn't promise when. It is easier for me to answer another time."

"When?" Sarah asked, voice tired, lost, little and sad.

"Soon, precious thing. Soon." He flipped her hand over, sliding his underneath it. He rubbed circles into her palm with his thumb, smiling as she tried to hide the electric currents his touch was sending through her.

"Your dessert." The waitress interrupted them, sliding the plate into the centre of the table with a decided lack of grace. Sarah claimed back her hand, clutching her fork and trying not to blush.

"Thankyou. Your service has been exquisite." Jareth gave her the full force of his dazzling smile, leaving her somewhat stunned.

"If you nee-"

"You may go." Jareth waved her off, and she left looking as though she were about to cry.

They ate in silence for several minutes, Jareth looking contemplative, Sarah feeling awkward.

"No more questions, precious thing?" Jareth asked, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

"Why bother if you're not going to answer them?" She replied, voice dripping with disdain.

"You're quite feisty this evening, aren't you?" Jareth smirked. Sarah chose to ignore him.

"Well, judging by the brisk pace this conversation is trotting along at, I surmise it is time for us to depart." Jareth rose, taking his jacket off the back of his chair and hanging it casually over one arm.

Before Sarah had time to rise, he was at her side, pulling out her chair and offering his hand. Blushing, she accepted, allowing him his gentlemanly act. They walked out of the restaurant, waiting on the curb while Jareth hailed a taxi. It glided in with the erratic speed expected of cab drivers. Jareth opened the door, standing back to let Sarah in.

"Wait a minute." Sarah paused, one leg in the taxi. "We didn't pay."

Jareth grinned wickedly. "Don't worry, precious thing. It's all taken care of."

"Jareth..." There was a warning in her tone.

"Come along, Sarah. The meter's running." He ushered her into the cab with a smirk.


*AN: He wears long-johns, obviously ^.^