Disclaimer: I'm pretty much fried, right now... Nothing witty is coming to mind. Don't own.
Warning: This chapter is Naughty. Yes, we have delved back into the M rated side of things - nothing to bad happens until the end of the chapter (and even then, it isn't awful) but if it isn't your cup of tea, feel free to pretty much skip the rest of the chap after Sarah gets back home from the midnight picnic with Jareth. :)
Fun Fact: This is actually two chapters in one. :D Rejoice!
Chapter Eleven
This was officially the Most Awkward Date, Ever. Period.
In my (not really) extensive dating experience, I have endured several outings of epically bad quality: once, I had I blind date take me to an aquarium, where he thought it would be endearing and amusing to bob for sea urchins. He apparently overlooked the sign mentioning that they were poisonous.
Another time, a guy had taken me to an art show. The artist was his ex-girlfriend. Who he'd broken up with three days prior. It turned out 'art show' was actually code for 'sob fest'.
And there was the guy who 'accidentally' poured a bottle of champagne down my dress and then tried to help clean it up - with his tongue. In the restaurant.
But this… really topped them all.
Jeff was once again ignoring my 'just friends' vibe. This was supposed to strictly be a colleague-date; Jeff had asked me to accompany him in the stead of a client, not an absent love interest, however, I was seriously starting to doubt that story. I wasn't fawning over him, I wasn't making kissy-eyes at him, and my feet were staying firmly on my side of the table - but Señor Dense over there was still flirting for all he was worth. He'd already told me about seven times so far that I looked absolutely beautiful tonight, and I was starting to seriously regret dolling myself up for Jareth. Also, if he didn't unglue his eyes from my legs, I was going to poke them out.
Okay, so, fine, it was a little bit my fault for wearing such a… well, such a provocative dress, but I honestly didn't expect to have this hard of a time keeping Jeff friend-focused. I had even gone so far as to wink at the waiter, for Hoggle's sake. Twice.
And the restaurant he had taken us to - on Valentine's Day - was clearly a romantic hotspot.
When we had walked in (to a rather over-the-top, Hey-Mr.-Money greeting from the Maître d') we were immediately escorted to the balcony, skipping over the three other waiting couples. Rather than impress me, as was probably intended, I felt like I should apologize to the people whose place in line we'd just stolen. It felt rude.
And, lining the path to our secluded balcony table were, joy, more dead flowers.
Again with the roses and plucked petals… I absently wondered how many roses had died so I could tread on their carcasses tonight.
Somewhere at the other end of the balcony, hidden by a vine-covered trellis, was a female singer crooning softly in a sensual, romantic voice, accompanied by violins. There was always a nearby waiter to refill my wine glass whenever I finished it, and he held the glass just so. Candles were everywhere, making me wonder just how safe it was for someone as accident prone as me to be around, and the mood lighting was so movie-set perfect I half expected a director to come over and re-arrange our table to fit the scene better.
Alas, the charm was wasted; I felt nothing for the man sitting across from me but a deep, abiding love for his car.
Jeff had cycled through his usual reel of amusing anecdotes and endearing observations, and was obviously at a loss for what to say. He'd actually re-told a story I'd heard a week ago at the coffee shop. I didn't really have anything to add to the conversation, either - what was I going to tell him about, my triumph over the ridiculously sexy Goblin King, via his goblin subjects, that would allow me more control in our relationship, whatever that might be? Hardly appropriate table talk.
As I watched my third glass of wine being refilled, I decided to look on the bright side: though the food was a little bland, I had a fairly decent buzz going, and on the drive here I had successfully kept Jeff too scared to talk and was able to imagine it was Jareth sitting next to me. I wondered offhandedly what he was up to right now.
Once, I glimpsed a blonde waiter a few tables over, but he turned out to be just a college-age boy (who's hair was actually a dirty, nearly brown color in the light) waiting his way through school. And his eyes matched.
As dessert and after-dinner wine dragged on, I started wishing for a candle to tip over, a fight to break out, or a small natural disaster to strike, anything to end this interminable dinner. Jeff had eventually struck up a conversation with one of the waiters, and they were chatting amiably about their grandmothers, who apparently played canasta together on Sundays.
This was unbearable…
I rested my chin in my hand and stared into my wineglass, willing it to reveal an avenue of escape, when I suddenly realized the light patterns in the liquid were hardly random. By holding the glass still and tilting my head a bit, I could see a picture on its surface. Actually, it was more of a movie. There was a movie in my wine.
A movie of Jareth.
I blinked. Inspected a candle flame for a moment. Attempted to listen to Jeff blathering about his grandmother.
It was still there when I looked back.
Intrigued, I watched for a moment. Was he projecting this to me?
He was sitting in an overstuffed, comfortable looking chair, facing a merrily dancing fire, his face blank as though lost in thought. I smiled a little. He really was beautiful.
I watched for a moment as the firelight danced over him, making the rise and fall of his chest and the absent twirling of his fingers around a crystal ball unusually fascinating. After a moment he brought the crystal to his face and looked at it, his brow furrowing slightly, and then stiffened, sitting up a little straighter. I found myself doing the same, trying to peer into the ball and see what had made him react like that. Was it the goblins? Was something wrong?
He stared at the crystal a little longer, and abruptly lifted his head, looking to the side -
And straight at me.
I blinked, surprised, and felt a shiver run through me. We were making eye contact. There was no doubt.
I wasn't really sure what to do. I could put the glass down, or throw it, I supposed, to break the contact. Then I could focus on my pseudo-date like a good not-girlfriend.
Or I could sit there and watch Jareth watching me watch him. Which really sounded like a lot more fun.
Mind made up, I relaxed into my chair and cocked an eyebrow at my wineglass. Well?
Jareth blinked, and slowly smiled, relaxing into his own chair and looking extremely satisfied. I rolled my eyes and he laughed. He looked thoughtful for a moment, his eyes glazing over a little, and rose, walking behind the chair a few paces. My wineglass camera followed his movements, though the picture blurred just a little. He walked a little slower, and the image sharpened.
Satisfied, he stopped and looked directly at me, his lips moving. I frowned and shook my head minimally. No good. Can't hear.
He frowned, and then shrugged. I agreed - I was already watching him via an alcoholic beverage. What more was I expecting?
Curious as to what Jareth would do, knowing I was watching, a small smile crawled onto my face. This was kind of neat. I liked this. I wondered if I was the one doing this, and if so, if I could learn to do this on command, or only when I was abominably bored.
Jareth considered me for a moment, and then smiled slyly. I felt my heart skip a beat as a dull heat crept into his expression, and watched as he slowly brought his gloved fingers to his mouth and started to pull a glove off with his teeth.
One finger at a time, he bit down and tugged gently, exposing a tiny bit more skin with each movement, until he had removed it entirely, and I was looking at his bare hand for the first time. His fingers were… really long.
My heartbeat sped up and I tried to regulate my breathing. I was pretty sure I was blushing a little by the time he got the second one off. Who knew hand-stripping was so erotic?
Jareth had kept his eyes locked firmly on mine, and now broke the eye-contact as he lifted his shirt over his head and dropped it carelessly on the floor.
I felt my body temperature go up a few degrees.
Good God, he was hot.
Jareth wasn't ripped, or anything, but he had a lithe, powerful build; lean and quick-looking, the kind of muscle a martial artist builds, and his shoulders were masculine and extremely touchable. His skin was pale and smooth, pleasantly colored by the nearby firelight, and also looked quite enjoyable to touch. In fact, his entire body looked in need of a good fondle.
Jareth's hands moved to his pants, and I put the glass down, breathing heavily.
"Sarah? You alright?" Jeff asked, looking me over worriedly. Well, at least he wasn't drooling over my legs. I nodded.
"Yeah, I think the wine is just getting to me a little," I lied, and pressed a hand to my forehead. "Would you mind if we left?"
"No, no, of course not." He turned to the waiter and requested the check while I downed the rest of my wine to keep from accidentally catching sight of a naked Jareth and going into shock or something.
The walk to the car was awkward, and made even more so by the jealous, hateful glare the redheaded hostess flashed me after Jeff bid her goodnight.
I tried to communicate that she was welcome to him, please distract him now, but she was too busy cutting me to itty bitty pieces with her eye daggers to read my unspoken message, apparently. I turned back around and tried to pretend I couldn't feel her murdering me in her mind as we walked out.
As we approached the car, Jeff held out his hand expectantly, as though he were expecting the keys or something. I regarded his outstretched hand disdainfully. He sighed.
"Sarah, you had enough wine to affect you, therefore you should not be driving. Particularly not the way you drive," he reasoned.
Oh. Right. Wine headache, forgot.
I scowled as I reluctantly handed over the keys. "I can drive normally," I pouted, walking around to the passenger side for the first time in days. "It's just boring."
"I believe the word you are looking for is actually 'safe', or perhaps 'legal'," Jeff replied. I scowled harder.
"Or maybe 'dull', or 'inexcusable in a car meant for racing'," I quipped back, and smacked my head painfully on the roof as I slid in. "Ow!"
"And that's why I'm driving," Jeff said. I shot him a look.
"You are driving because I don't feel like wrestling you for key ownership right now," I said, and leaned back, distending my stomach and making a show of looking content. "I'm full."
Jeff laughed, pulling out into traffic.
Thank God she was talking again.
All throughout dinner she had been distant and dull, only half listening to him prattling on about whatever fraying conversational thread he could grasp while she picked at her fifty dollar meal and chugged her hundred dollar wine. He'd even retold a story he'd been over the other day in the coffee shop, and she hadn't even noticed! If she hadn't said something, he'd been prepared to reveal his obsession with Star Wars and hope valiantly that uncovering something embarrassing may tickle the sadist in her and at least win him a little attention.
She still looked a little huffy about him driving, but a Huffy Sarah was still better than an Ice Queen Sarah. He suspected she'd picked up a few habits from that stupid 'acquaintance'.
Sneaking another glance at her, Jeff noticed she was watching his hands on the steering wheel with a slightly dreamy look on her face. Smirking, Jeff slid his hands over the leather suggestively, caressing its smooth, rounded surface as he guided the car around a turn. Sarah's eyes glazed and a small smirk tugged at the corner of her mouth.
Jeff grinned. Driving could definitely work in his favor.
Quickly switching lanes, he mentally plotted a longer route to her apartment, dropping a hand to fondle the shift handle as he changed gears.
Sarah's thighs twitched a little, and Jeff grinned in triumph. He didn't know what it was with her and cars, but he had no qualms about milking this for all it was worth.
It had occurred to me that I was sitting in the exact place Jareth's leather-clad ass had occupied during Operation: Thigh Fondle. Which meant that I now had Jareth's view of how I had looked on our little drive, and I had to say, I never realized watching someone drive could be as exciting as doing the driving myself. Had my hands looked that sensual on the steering wheel? I wished Jeff wore black leather driving gloves…
As Jeff switched gears, I remembered the feeling of Jareth's unnaturally warm fingers on my bare leg and grinned a little. I couldn't wait to talk to him about that wine thing. Was I really magic? I mean, I knew we'd had that whole You-stole-my-magic,-you-twit, No-I-didn't-you-pooftard thing in my kitchen, but I wasn't totally warmed up to the idea yet. He'd seemed surprised when he found me spying on him though, so it probably hadn't been his doing…
Remembering the other, highly enjoyable moments of the Wineglass Movie, I grinned and felt myself blushing. Man, those hands…
I realized I was turning myself on thinking about another guy while in the car with the one who had just taken me to dinner, albeit a supposed "colleague-type outing", and that this was probably considered tacky. I also realized that I had consumed enough wine not to care overmuch and that it was probably a good idea Jareth was driving after all.
Uh, Jeff, I meant. Jeff was driving.
Could Jareth even drive? What would be his car, if he somehow procured a license, I wondered… God, I could just imagine him on a motorcycle, especially with all that leather he liked to wear.
I realized I was clenching my thighs together, as though I were on the back of a Jareth-driven bike, and firmly put a lid on those thoughts. I was in the car with Jeff, and I was going to talk and be nice to Jeff, and then I was going to go up to my apartment and not call on any nearby magical kings.
Despite the little alcoholic striptease, I still had a point to prove with Jareth. I was not his; my kingdom was as great and my will as strong and I was the one with the power, thank you very much, and I would not tolerate him being all snippy with me like that. And I was not a twit. Dammit.
And I was not thinking about Jareth - Cripes, Sarah, get a grip. My brain seemed to have taken a holiday, leaving only the glitter-drenched, hormonal interns to hold down the fort in its absence. Clearly, my brain should not be left with tasking responsibilities until this Jareth infatuation -
I suddenly realized we were pulling into my apartment complex. And I had not said a single word to Jeff through the entire drive, instead being distracted to arousal by thoughts of Jareth.
God, I was in trouble.
Jeff slid the car into a space and put it in park, and as I looked over to say goodnight, I realized Jeff must have noticed my mood.
And thought I was hot for him.
He was looking at me hungrily, blue eyes lit up with lust and a small grin of satisfaction on his perfectly shaped, plump lips as he leaned toward me in the intimate interior of his car. I leaned backwards against the door and blinked.
"Uh, Jeff-"
"Sarah, you are so beautiful, and amazing, and brilliant. The way you look tonight…" his big, glowy eyes raked over my figure, and I tugged at my dress's hemline.
"Uh, thanks, but-"
"It's alright, Sarah, just…" he leaned in closer, seriously invading my personal bubble, and I smelled wine on his breath.
Why, that conniving, double-standard-ed cheat! He'd been drinking too, why couldn't I have driven-
All of a sudden, Jeff was kissing me, and I blinked again.
Oops.
I made a noise of apologetic protest in my throat, which he misinterpreted and responded to with a husky groan of his own. I tried again, this time putting a hand on his chest and shoving hard.
His mouth parted ways with mine with a smack of separation, and I gave him a 'sorry, but' look.
"Jeff, I'm sorry, but-"
He smiled at me. "I understand, Sarah, you're a little worried, but I promise we can take it slow. I won't rush you into-"
"No, Jeff, that's not-"
"Shh, Sar, it's alright, I-"
"No, I'm serious, that's not-"
He rolled his eyes affectionately and promptly plastered his lips back to mine.
I huffed. Really?
Balling my hand this time, I pushed him off again and glared, warning him to keep his lips on his own face.
"Jeff, chill out! I swear, if you don't back off I'm going to bog your ass so fast-" I froze, gasping and clapping a hand over my mouth.
"What, what?"
"Oh, my god. I just threatened to bog someone." Crap. Why did I keep unconsciously acting like I was Queen of the Goblins?
"Wait, what? Bog is a noun, not a verb," Jeff said, confused and frowning. I turned and threw open the car door.
"I've gotta go, dinner was nice and thanks for the car loan, please don't kiss me again," I said, and hurried up to my apartment, leaving Jeff in his car gaping like a landed trout in a sweet, midnight-blue boat.
Jeff stared after Sarah as she disappeared into her apartment building, blinking in confusion and hurt.
…What?
He didn't understand. What went wrong? He'd done flowers, chocolate, the romantic restaurant, the amusing stories and the smooth lines, the powerful and sexy car - he'd seen the blatant desire in her face! Everything for the perfect date, he'd nailed. This had never failed so spectacularly before. Didn't women like being pampered, feeling like they were the center of attention, the VIP of the night?
Jeff glared at the empty seat next to him. What did he not have that her arrogant, irritatingly smug ex-lover did? Aside from poor fashion choices and an abominable haircut.
Jeff pulled out his phone to call a cab, and abruptly stopped.
Sarah was not interested in him. She'd shown that perfectly well by rejecting his kiss (which was another thing he didn't understand - he was a phenomenal kisser, dammit, why didn't she swoon?). Why should he continue to pursue and pamper her if it was unwelcome?
Snapping his phone shut, he put his car back in gear. He'd call to have her own car towed to her when it was fixed, and she could come begging to him on apologetic hands and knees if she needed a ride that bad. Or get her acquaintance to give her a lift, for all he cared. He'd be damned if he was going to sit around playing the sap for her anymore.
Pulling back into traffic, he slipped his headset on and dialed information.
"Address for Denise Cormack, please."
Jareth crushed the crystal in his hand.
The interloper was going in the Bog. And then he'd be torn apart by the cleaners, and then put back together and dismembered by Jareth, personally, while tiny carnivorous fairies nibbled his face away, and then fed piecemeal to a giant serpent (which was fitting because he was obviously a snake) and then boiled in more Bog water and then…
And then something. Jareth was too livid to form a proper plan. He formed another crystal, watching Sarah reject the slime with abhorrence and felt a tiny bit better.
How dare he have the audacity to make an advance on his Sarah, particularly when she was so obviously attracted to someone else (him, dammit) and clearly not thinking of-
He kissed her again. Jareth nearly had an aneurysm.
A few moments passed during which coherent thought was completely out of the question. The interloper must be obliterated. His lips must be burned off with acid and then fed to live alligators and then… something.
Jareth closed his eyes tightly and reminded himself that some good had come of this… event. Not only had Sarah firmly expressed her displeasure with the situation, but she had instinctively threatened the interloper in a manner only the Queen of the Labyrinth, only his wife, could execute. It calmed him enough to realize that Sarah must be confronted immediately, before she began analyzing things and undoing any progress that had been made.
Also, he was extremely curious about her far-seeing incident.
A few more deep breaths and Jareth's temper was nearly under control. Snapping his fingers, he called a few of his more intelligent goblins to him.
They saluted in something that may vaguely have been considered unison.
"Follow the interloper. Make absolutely certain that the rest of his night is not pleasant, and I will pardon your treasonous indiscretions and rescind your sentences," he ordered. The goblins grinned mischievously, equally excited for the opportunity to cause havoc and escape the bog, and saluted again, disappearing with small cracks.
Jareth closed his eyes and formed a quick plan, pushing all thoughts of murder and bloody revenge from his mind until a more appropriate time.
…Perhaps something with leeches…
I could hear the goblins inside, wailing and laughing. Crap.
I sighed, resting my forehead on my apartment door, unable to force the hand gripping the knob to turn and push. I really did not feel like rowdy goblins tonight, especially if they were going to smell like the Bog…
Okay. Deep breath. Zen, I schooled myself. You can do this. It's only goblins.
I opened the door and cringed as I saw them all gathered around something sharp, shiny, and multi-parted.
A particularly harmful-looking silver contraption sprang up, to a chorus of "oooooooh's" from the goblins, and I rushed forward before they impaled their eyeballs on it.
"Hey, guys! What's going on?" I asked with forced calm and cheer. Tooka's brightly colored beak whipped in my direction and upon recognizing me he sent up a shout of "Lady Sarah! Your Tallness!" which the rest of the group took to with enthusiasm. I frantically shushed them - midnight was not the time to be hailing Her Tallness - and after a few moments it had developed into a game: Someone would shout, the rest of the goblins would make just as much noise shushing them, and then they would all giggle and bop each other on the heads as they made exaggerated shushing movements.
I sighed and wished I really could bog things. Jareth was so lucky, sometimes…
It ended after a few moments, when Dizz stepped on a particularly pointy attachment from the army knife and yelped. A few goblins tried to shush him, but he held up the contraption and everyone remembered why they'd been here.
"Look look look, Lady Sarah! See what we gots!" he hollered excitedly, and I promised myself that if I really got kicked out of my apartment, Jareth was footing the bill for my next one.
"It's very…shiny," I said, trying my best not to sound terrified. "What is it?"
"It's a 'Tool of Imminent Destruction'!" one of them yelled.
"And where did you get the nice Tool of Imminent Destruction?" I asked, though I was already quite sure where they'd obtained it.
"King gave it to us!"
"Yeah! King says it has eighbty-seben thingamabobs, but we only counted a hundrety-thirty-twelve, so far…" Dizz said with a little frown. I patted his coffee-mug clad head.
"Don't worry. I'm sure if the King said it has eighty-seven parts, it has them," I assured him.
"Said with eighetby…ebethey…eighbty…" he trailed off, his face screwed up in concentration.
"Eighty-seven," I supplied, and he perked up and continued.
"Yeah! With that many thingies, we were bound to find a way to kill ourselves!" he said happily.
"Yeah, but we haddint, yet, so we gotsta keep tryin," said Keego, and he promptly stabbed his finger into a corkscrew and wailed in agony, and was swiftly followed by six or seven more of his companions.
Darting a hand into the middle of the horde, I snatched the Tool of Imminent Eviction and held it above my head, impervious to the groans it caused.
"I've got a present for you guys that's way better than this," I said over their unhappy voices, which caused an upswing in the general mood. "I'll go and get it, but you all have to promise me something before I give it to you," I said. Dizz pouted.
"Aww. Your promises always make things boring," he objected. I rolled my eyes and flicked his coffee mug. He jumped at the tink and glared at me.
"Rules are rules, pal. Now, I'll only give you the Fantastic Surprise if you promise - pinky promise - to only play with it in the Labyrinth," I said, holding out my pinky to Dizz. He eyed my finger for a moment, before reluctantly linking his little digit around mine and giving it a firm swing and a squeeze. I grinned and bent down to give him a kiss on his coffee mug before turning to each goblin and repeating the process.
Once I was satisfied, I told them all to line up outside my bedroom door and went to go dig some more 'royalties' out of my closet.
One at a time, the goblins filed in and poofed away as I handed out a variety of items, including superballs, kazoos, edible bubbles, non-toxic washable crayons, sidewalk chalk, and inner tubes with duckies imprinted on the sides to make the bog more tolerable.
Jareth was in for a good time.
The last goblin came to stand before me, absolutely reeking of bog, and I grinned down at my little defender.
Ziggy looked up at me in cross-eyed adoration, apparently unaffected by his damp clothes and horrid smell.
Bending down to his height, I reached into the closet for something special I had held back.
"The other goblins told me how fearless and leaderly you were during your mission, Ziggy," I said. The little goblin beamed, puffing his chest out adorably and positively glowing with pride. I laughed, and pulled out his gift. "For your uncommon valor in the face of boggy adversity, and for unflagging fidelity under extreme duress, I, Lady Sarah, hereby dub you my official bodyguard. Take this gift as a token of my gratitude," I said solemnly, and handed him a double-tanked super soaker.
Ziggy was awestruck. You'd have thought I'd just handed him the Holy Grail. I let him gaze at it lovingly for a moment before explaining what it did and how to use it, after which the awe shifted into excited impishness, and he promptly thanked me and poofed off to go torment his little friends.
I smiled. That had worked out fairly well. Not only had I rid myself of the goblins without resorting to banishing them, but I had almost certainly ruined Jareth's night.
All was well in my world.
Calling for my puppy, I hooked him to his leash and took him out for his last walk, torn between drawing another bath (those soap leaves were really addicting) when I got back, or popping in a nice, gory, violence-filled action movie in which someone with a nice jaw line and either black or platinum blonde hair (or one of each, if I was lucky) got the crap beat out of them.
Mister Puppy didn't really care what I did, so long as it didn't interfere with him chasing invisible squirrels.
"Domino, quit doing that!" I yelled, rubbing my poor, abraded wrist from where my blasted dog's leash had removed skin. Domino huffed and glared out into the darkness, growling a warning at any small rodents that may be laughing at him.
I rolled my eyes and tried to tug him back toward the building. He shot a look at the trees, turned and gave me a short glare, and promptly plunked his furry butt down on the path and did an impressive impersonation of an immovable granite statue.
I nearly cried.
"No, puppy, please don't do the statue thing," I begged. He stared resolutely out into the inky dark, ignoring me completely. I pouted and whined and stomped my spike-heeled feet.
"That's not fair! I'm the human; I'm supposed to decide where we go and when we stop and for how long, dammit!" I complained. Domino snorted, but otherwise did not react to my argument.
I huffed angrily and stomped over to stand in front of him, bending down and cupping his face in my hands, looking him in the eye.
"If you come upstairs with me now and quit trying to drag me all over this damned ten-by-ten stretch of trees, I'll give you a nice big piece of fried chicken and a piece of bacon, but if you don't, you will never see another slice of bacon for the rest of your miserable, furry life," I threatened. Domino eyed me impassively for a moment, and then chuffed in agreement and headed back to the light of my building. I sighed in relief and gladly followed, dying to get out of these shoes. Note to self: tromping around on a dirt-and-gravel trail not advisable in strappy heels. I was fairly certain my little toe had been sanded off.
The shoes came off the second I entered my apartment, and I dug my toes into the carpet in microfibered bliss.
"Mmm, thank god for plush carpets," I sighed happily, and made my way to the kitchen to make good on my promise to Domino.
He paced impatiently behind me while I heated and prepared his snack, which I did not hurry in the least. I shot him a glance as I finished.
"You know, you don't actually deserve this," I said. He just gave me those big, sorrowful eyes, his adorable little black-spotted chin quivering, and I really couldn't help but aww at him and hand over the chicken. He gently took it from my fingers and then dashed to my room and dove under the bed faster than a streak of Dalmatian-y lightning.
"You'd better not leave any crumbs under there, mister!" I called after him. Blasted dog…
I followed his footsteps out of the kitchen, eager to tread on my lovely, comforting carpet once more-
And found my toes instead cushioned on blades of cool, damp grass. Blinking, I looked around at my living room-turned-midnight meadow, which, while very pretty and all, was actually not where I had intended to be. The moon was full and huge, adequately illuminating the dark grass and moon-silvered flowers that dotted the field. Trees loomed, nearly a half a mile away, and the air was warm enough not to be uncomfortable in my short, sleeveless dress. Apparently, my apartment had been traded out for a summertime garden while I wasn't looking.
I didn't see Jareth, nor any sign of him.
Had I done this by accident?
I sighed, closing my eyes and seriously deciding to weasel some control-lessons out of Jareth. I couldn't just be conjuring movies in my beverages willy-nilly and teleporting myself to random fields for no apparent reason all the time…
Suddenly a length of cloth covered my eyes, and I panicked as I felt a tug at the back of my head as it was tied in place. My hands darted upwards, instinctively trying to restore my vision, but their path was obstructed by a pair of warm, gloved ones.
I relaxed as I realized it was Jareth, and sighed out the air that had been about to power a scream.
"Apologies, precious thing. Didn't mean to startle you," he murmured into my hair, his hands gently caressing mine as he nuzzled at my neck. I shivered a little bit.
"And I'm to believe that, despite the fact that you flat out told me you enjoy seeing me jump," I said skeptically, trying to keep my previous irritation with him alive. Unfortunately, he wasn't cooperating.
Jareth made some sort of pleasantly inappropriate sound of agreement, and threaded his fingers through mine, pulling my arms with his as they surrounded my waist and pulled me against his chest.
It was a very nice feeling, being wrapped up in his arms like that. I felt very wanted, very safe. Wanted, safe… and loved.
Jareth sighed a little, content and cozy, and placed a small kiss behind my ear. His heart gently beat against my back, steady and calm.
My chest did some sort of twisty-clenchy thing, and I untwined our arms, stepping out of his embrace. I suddenly felt irrationally guilty for kissing Jeff in the car, and a little overwhelmed at the sensation of absolute love radiating from Jareth now, and then the whole magic thing…
I reached up again to pull off the blindfold, but Jareth stopped me again.
"Let me be your eyes tonight, Sarah mine," he requested. I could practically see his smile in my mind as he spoke again. "I recently was blindfolded myself, and found it a refreshing, surprisingly enjoyable experience," he teased. I grinned in spite of myself and allowed him to take my hand and lead me a few steps.
"Alright, as long as you don't lead me off a cliff or anything," I agreed. Jareth led me a few feet, and I felt as I stepped from grass onto a soft blanket. I knew there had been no blanket lying around moments ago, so Jareth must be over-timing on the magic, I decided. We stopped, and Jareth lightly pushed on my shoulders, indicating I should sit. I complied, curling my legs beside me and folding my hands in my lap while I waited.
Something floral scented and soft brushed my cheek, and I felt my heart sink a little.
"Cut flowers?" I asked nonchalantly. I sensed as Jareth moved in front of me and sat down.
"Hardly," he replied casually, and took my hand again, placing it on the bloom. I felt the flower, probably a rose, and slid a petal between my fingers. Smiling, I realized it wasn't real.
"Velvet roses," I said happily. Jareth didn't reply, and I tried not to feel uncomfortable at the idea of him watching me while I was blind. Which reminded me…
"So earlier, in my wineglass… what was that about?" I asked, aiming for nonchalance again, but falling short this time. Jareth was fiddling with something, and the urge to peek under the blindfold and watch him was nearly overwhelming, so I fidgeted with my dress to keep my rebellious fingers in check. I could smell something cooking, something salty-smelling with a sort of sweet, fruity undertone, and my stomach reminded me that I hadn't done a whole lot of eating at dinner. I smirked to myself. Of course Jareth was going to try and show Jeff up.
It felt like he was humoring me when he answered. "You were scrying," he replied. I cocked an eyebrow over my blindfold, imitating one of his gestures. He chuckled.
"It's a form of farseeing; observing events that are not in your range of physical sight."
"I've never done that before," I said. I could imagine Jareth nodding his head once in acquiescence, his eyes downcast as he fiddled with whatever he was fiddling with that I was not going to peek at.
"You've started to accept that the magic that happens around you is actually yours, and therefore yours to control, rather than random, ill-consequenced side effects. As you begin to grow more comfortable with this, you'll find that there are other things you can do as well." Fiddle, fiddle, fiddle.
I thought about that for a moment, trying to concentrate less on the sounds he was making.
"Can I turn into an owl?" I asked. Jareth didn't laugh like I expected him to.
"Possibly. I doubt you'll take the same identity as me, however, but I won't rule it out." He paused. "I rather suspect you'll be a Heron. Possibly a Snowy Egret."
I pursed my lips, recalling the extensive plumage display of a Snowy Egret. "Is that a comment about the ball gown I wore?"
Jareth did laugh at that, the sound smooth and rolling and pleasant. I liked his laugh. When it wasn't cold or mocking, anyway.
"Perhaps," he replied, smiling with his voice. I frowned at him a little in reprimand but noticed he wasn't making those distracting noises anymore and was too relieved to be irritable.
Of course, now I wanted to peek and see what he'd done.
I sighed impatiently. "Jareth, the suspense is killing me," I complained. He chuckled again.
"Peace, Sarah mine. Don't think so much. Feel."
I grouched at him. "Who do you think you are, Mr. Miyagi?" I shifted restlessly. "Wax on, wax off. Breathe in, breathe out. Don't think, feel."
Warm, soft leather pressed itself to my lips, shushing me. The impulse to kiss his fingertips suddenly struck me, and I quickly stomped on it in surprise. What the hell, hormones?
The soft, not-dying rose brushed along my face again, and I tried to clear my mind and just concentrate on the sensation. It was surprisingly easy, particularly after Jareth started humming.
There's such a sad love, deep in your eyes…
Velvet slid across my skin, slow and gentle, almost teasing. Over my brow, delicate and soothing, down my cheeks, tracing the lines of my lips. My skin tingled as the petal skimmed over it, coming to life in a way I wasn't sure had ever happened before.
I'll place the moon, within your heart…
He moved along the edge of my jaw, his glove lightly grazing my skin, complementing the velvet petal. I tilted my head back as he reached my throat, sighing.
I'll leave my love between the stars…
He swept over my shoulders, too lightly, while he kept that tune in my head. I could feel his voice on my skin as perfectly as the flower, softer and warmer and just as tantalizing.
I'll be there for you-ou-ou,
As the world fell down
Falling, falling down…
His hands never stopped moving, but I felt him shift, felt the air he displaced on my skin and the heat he was radiating move, come closer. I could feel his breath over my cheek, feel the way his shirt brushed lightly against my dress. Something else, a series of faint shivers, passed over me, like a sensor that tracked his movements. I could feel it the strongest from his hands, lessening in intensity as it traveled up his arms and to his chest. I knew where he was, knew that he was using one arm to support his weight as he coated my skin in tingles, knew that his head was tilted toward my face, could practically see his stance in my mind. Was it his magic I was feeling? Had it always been there, and I just hadn't noticed it?
"Tell me, Sarah. What do you feel?" he whispered.
"Warmth," I said, letting my instincts answer for me while my consciousness reveled in the vibrations emanating from Jareth's body. "Your hands, when they move." I sighed as the sensation neared my neck, nearly trembling now, as his lips skimmed over my pulse without touching. "A tingle," I added, bringing a hand up to outline his face, letting the little vibrations guide my fingers down his neck, along his shoulder, pausing when I reached a difference in the pattern. It thumped, and after a moment I realized it was his heartbeat I felt, without touching his chest.
He reached behind him, bringing whatever he had been cooking in front of my face and waving it slowly. "What do you smell?"
I took a breath, leaning toward him slightly as his fingers moved to the back of my neck, running along my spine.
"Something salty? And something roasty; mild, but pleasant… and something sweet? Strawberries, maybe…" I said, and frowned, shaking my head slightly. "No… figs."
Jareth made a small noise of approval. "Yes, figs," he murmured, and brought something else forward. I smiled a little as I inhaled.
"Wine. White, I think, and dry. Vanilla and wood smoke and lemongrass… and more figs?"
He brushed his fingers along my neck, grazing his lips against my ear. "Well done, precious thing," he said softly. "What else?"
I took another deep breath as he continued teasing my skin, brushing my own hands over his arms, tracing his fingers without touching them, enjoying the little shivery feeling. "Grass and evening dew, night jasmine," I continued, and noticed something familiar. "Lavender…"
I turned my head towards him, using that tingly feeling to gauge the distance, and inhaled the scent of his skin, the way he had when I'd blindfolded him.
"You," I said, smiling. I could feel the change in his lips as he smiled back.
"What do I smell like?"
"Midwinter and magic," I answered immediately. Jareth hummed thoughtfully.
"Now, what do you taste?" he asked, and brought the food back to my lips. I took the bite from his fingers, trying to identify what I had smelled.
"Chicken, and something earthy… mushrooms," I said, after I swallowed. "The salt… something like bacon, but not. And fig," I smiled. Jareth kissed the corner of my jaw in approval, humming again, and handed me the wine. I inhaled and took a sip.
"The fig again, and definitely a white wine," I said. "Lemon and sweet wood… and…" I arched an eyebrow at Jareth. "Peach?"
Jareth laughed softly, skimming his fingers over my shoulders. I realized with a small rush of heat that I was feeling his skin now, not his gloves, and felt my cheeks blush. He traced small whorl patterns over my arm as I tried to listen to him.
"Not actually peach, love. Just a combination of the fig and vanilla."
He continued to feed me small bites of food, keeping my wineglass full as I sipped at it, and always touching me in some way; barely kissing my jaw or cheek, brushing his lips over the shell of my ear, running his bare fingers over my arms and neck. His heat kept my right side warm as he sat next to me, never reaching so far that he broke contact with me. It was intimate, but surprisingly comfortable. I let my hands roam over him, always just a hair above touching.
I finished eating, and turned more toward him, setting down my glass to have both hands free. Slowly, I traced a hand over his shoulder, up his neck, pausing at his cheek. I was curious if the vibrations were in his skin, as well, like an electrical current. He kept still and waited patiently, never ceasing his own hand's movement. I gently pressed my fingertips to his cheek, surprised when they didn't hum on contact. The vibration passed by the connection, surrounding him rather than originating from him. I ignored the urge to press my lips to his skin and contented myself with exploring his face, sweeping along his brows, his aquiline nose, his parted lips. He kissed my fingers as I ran them over his mouth, acting on the impulse I hadn't. I realized I had leaned my face closer to him, intending to kiss him, and froze.
Jareth brought a hand to my face, gently touching my cheek, and pressed his lips to the corner of my mouth. I felt my heartbeat increase, waiting for him to move over my lips, holding my breath…
His fingers moved up, bringing the blindfold with them. I kept my eyes closed for a beat longer, almost disappointed when I felt him move back from me. I opened my eyes to see him watching me intently, holding his own wineglass. My eyes locked on his bare hands and my brain sort of shorted out.
A few moments later I realized that Jareth had said something, and I blinked, looking back up at his face. He looked amused, in a slightly arrogant way. I frowned and started to rewind my brain and process what he had said, but noticed something else that snagged my attention.
"You changed your hair."
Jareth took a noncommittal sip of wine. "I felt it may have been time for a change."
I frowned a little. "Oh." I considered the new look for a moment. It was shorter, less spiky; tamer. It looked… less Jareth.
I liked his old hair.
Shaking my head, I recalled his earlier words.
Brought you here… for a truce meeting…
"So, truce?"
Smiling at my lagging concentration, Jareth handed my newly filled glass of wine to me and nodded.
"I was hoping we could negotiate a cessation of hostilities against my Labyrinth," he agreed, nodding to the leftover food lying on a small plate. "I also suspected you hadn't had an adequate meal and brought dinner, though it is not typically part of the negotiation process."
I picked up another piece of the chicken stuff and nodded at him as I popped it in my mouth. "Totally appreciated. This is fantastic," I said, firmly ignoring my untimely arousal and the fact that it was blatantly obvious. He grinned and nodded again.
"Now then. What would be necessary for a retraction of my traitorous subjects, Sarah?" he asked, and though he said it tartly, his pose was still relaxed and friendly. I smirked.
"First, an apology," I said primly. He sighed.
"I suspected." He took a fortifying gulp of wine, and looked me in the eye.
"Sarah, I am sorry for reacting disproportionately. I should have been more informative in my explanation of your acquisition of your magic, and my temper seems to have gotten away with me over the past few days," he said, and I smiled at the sincerity of his tone.
"Accepted. And I'm sorry for mocking you," I replied. "It was mean of you to call me a twit, though."
He frowned. "You called my hair ridiculous and ostentatious," he objected.
"Which, actually, leads to my second condition. Change your hair back," I said firmly. He blinked.
"Pardon?"
"I like your old hair," I admitted. "I mean, sure, it's poofy, and kind of unnecessary… but it's your hair, and I like it."
Jareth looked at me in mild bewilderment for a moment, but nodded. With a slight puff of glitter, his hair lengthened and fluffed, small highlights of silver weaving back into the strands, and I smiled.
"Much better."
Jareth gave me an amused look. "Anything else you'll require, princess?"
I gave him a level look, squaring my shoulders. I knew he wasn't going to like this last one. "All of the goblins must be allowed to keep the gifts I have already given them," I said. Jareth scowled.
"You realize that they are creating utter chaos with those 'gifts', I trust," he said unhappily. I gave him an apologetic look.
"Sorry, but, I owed it to them, and they've already been given. I can't take them back," I replied.
Jareth sighed, resorting back to his wineglass for comfort. "Yes, I heard about the 'royalties' business," he muttered. I finished the glass as he pondered for a moment, wondering what exactly it was, aside from my new favorite wine.
Glancing at me, Jareth leaned over and refilled both of our glasses. "Very well, Sarah, I will allow the goblins to keep what has already been given to them. However, as of now, whatever debt is owed to them is to be transferred to myself, as their liege, to be collected as I see fit," he conditioned. I gave him a skeptical look.
"Okay, but you realize I've been giving them kid stuff, I trust," I said, echoing his tone. He smirked.
"Collected as I see fit, precious thing," he reiterated. "Rather than toys, you will owe me your time."
I blinked. "Time? How am I supposed to put a value on time?" I demanded.
Jareth rolled a wrist carelessly. "Call it a minute for every dollar you earn from your writings. That's fair, yes?"
I glowered at him for appearances sake, but… spending time with him didn't sound like such a horrible way to pay a debt. "My company does not mean my free will - Just because we're spending time together does not mean that you get to dictate how that time is spent," I clarified. Jareth looked slightly put out.
"Very well. A minute of your freely given companionship for every dollar you have earned due to I or my subjects," he agreed, and I held out my hand.
"Deal. I'll call off any lingering goblin attacks on the castle as soon as I get home," I said. Jareth took my hand and we shook, sealing the deal.
Snagging another chicken thing off the plate, I gestured vaguely. "So, what would you think about coming over and showing me how to make these things?" I asked. Jareth grinned.
"That could be arranged, I think," he said, and leaned forward, taking my chin in his hand-
And licked a smudge of food from the corner of my mouth.
We both froze, and I realized he had been acting purely on instinct as his eyes widened slightly. Sheer, concentrated want shot straight through my stomach and settled between my legs, my skin humming as the tingly buzz of magic surged to the forefront of my awareness again.
I swallowed thickly, staring helplessly at his mouth, and tried to form a coherent thought.
"Uhm, I should… goblins…" I mumbled. Jareth blinked and came back to himself, slowly leaning back and releasing my chin.
"Yes… I'll…" he murmured and smiled oddly. "Until later, Sarah," he said, just a hint of self-satisfaction in his tone, and suddenly I was sitting on my living room floor, alone. I blinked.
"Whoa," I said to myself, and took a deep breath. "No more wine for you, hormones, until you learn some restraint," I admonished my libido and hauled myself up, gabbing the coffee table as the world spun a bit.
"Balance, wherefore art thou…" I muttered, wobbling my way to the bathroom and splashing some cold water on my face. I glanced in the mirror as I patted the water off, and blinked.
She was there again.
In the light filtering in from the living room, that unearthly, viciously beautiful creature I'd encountered a few days ago stared at me from my reflection, her eyes glinting with haughty amusement in the dimness and a sense of mischievousness lurking around her unsmiling mouth. I stood straighter, considering.
I looked like the Goblin Queen.
It may have been the wine, but the comparison did less to unsettle me this time. I tried out a few of Jareth's favorite looks, cocking an eyebrow, and smirking knowingly, peering coldly down my nose. They worked pretty well, actually.
I wondered if Jareth ever saw me this way.
Memories of earlier came spilling back, the feel of velvet and leather on my neck, his lips lightly kissing my jaw, his gloveless hands on my skin -
His tongue at the corner of my mouth.
My reflection smoldered at me, and I closed my eyes, leaning my head back and tying to imagine what his lips would feel like against mine, what he would taste like, how he would sound…
I ran a hand over my throat and made an involuntary noise of hunger. Why had I not just kissed him?
A flash of that satisfied smirk of his, the arrogant way he watched me flounder in arousal over him served as a reminder.
Oh, right. He was a cocky bastard.
I sighed and opened my eyes. The reflection in the mirror surprised me again.
The creature's eyes were still hooded and bright with hunger, a hand resting delicately at her throat and accentuating her arched figure. She was undeniably feminine and sensual, but just as equally powerful and confident. I had trouble reconciling the image I saw with the image I knew, and was tempted to reach over and flick on the light, but… I smiled at my reflection.
I liked what I saw, now. And I would have bet Jareth would, too.
Oh, god.
What if Jareth saw me like this, so obviously wanting him? I blushed at myself as I stepped from my bathroom and realized my thighs were wet and slick.
I stopped for a moment, thinking. What exactly would he do? Would he sneer at me? Mock me and cruelly run his fingers along my oversensitive skin, teasing but not relieving me? Would he be tender and sweet, the way he had been earlier when he was priming me for a negotiation meeting? Or would his bi-colored eyes glow with that hunger that made my stomach clench, and continue those movements downward, sliding over my stomach and down my hips, following the line of my dress to the hem and catching it on his fingertips, drag it back up to expose -
I whimpered and clamped my thighs together, forcing my thoughts to veer into less dangerously tempting territory. Jareth could not see me like this. I knew what would happen. First, he would mock me, and then he'd tease me back into a state of feral heat, and in the morning my self-esteem would be nil. I knew the drill. It wasn't like I'd never been drunk and horny and dumb before. Hell, one time some college jerk had slipped a roofie into my -
I froze.
"No. You wouldn't," I snarled at his memory-self in that midnight meadow, dutifully keeping my glass full and hand-feeding me figs. "You wouldn't dare."
But the steady, pulsing heat between my legs and the trickle down my thigh said otherwise.
"Jareth!" I roared to my empty room. "Jareth, Jareth, fucking self-righteous, smug King of the Bastards, Jareth!"
"No need to shout, precious thing. I heard you the first time." He was leaning against my closet, his royal ass acting like he had not a thing to fear, not a single sin on his sexy head.
I growled as menacingly as I could.
"You. Fucking. Bastard."
Jareth looked amused.
"Something wrong, love?"
"You know damn well what's wrong! I can't believe you'd stoop so low! Lower than low! A king using frat boy methods to get me hot and then leave me cold the next morning? I thought you had more faith in your abilities, at least."
He looked slightly less amused now.
Unfortunately, my drugged, lust-fogged mind held little interest of what mood he was in, and was focused more on that enticing slice of smooth chest peeking through his shirt, and his long-fingered hands resting on his crossed arms, his skin gleaming pale in the moonlight from the window.
I realized with a shock that he still wasn't wearing gloves.
Really came prepared, didn't you? I thought scathingly.
His bare fingers drummed on his sleeves, and I felt another ripple of lust run through my overheating body. Apparently, my nethers didn't particularly care that he was a conniving asshole, only that he was hot.
"You realize I have no idea what you are talking about, Sarah," he said, just a tad tersely. I closed my eyes briefly as my name in his voice slid over my skin and suppressed the shudder it wanted to induce. God, whatever he had drugged me with was strong.
"Don't bother, Jareth. I know you laced my wine. I'm not an idiot, and just because I'm horny doesn't meant that I'm incapable of thought."
Jareth scoffed in annoyance. "I did nothing to your wine, Sarah. If you failed to notice, I drank from the same bottle you did."
"That doesn't mean you didn't line my glass or something. You had me freaking blindfolded. I know you, you're tricky," I objected. "And I know what this feels like, dammit."
Jareth's eyes glinted at me in the darkness.
"Oh, you do? Then please, Sarah," he said, and if his voice made me shudder before, his silk-and-sex laden tone fairly had me trembling. "Please enlighten me. How does it feel?"
I would have glared at him, but the sight of him was making my teeth ache, so I closed my eyes instead and gritted my teeth over a moan that was trying to claw its way out.
"Go on, tell me, Sarah. How does it feel? Are you so hot your very blood is on fire?" He stepped forward, his booted footfalls muted and stealthy on my carpet. My skin was too hot, stretched too tight, my blood pounding too close to the surface in anticipation of his touch.
"Where are you hot? Is your stomach burning? Lower?" I stifled a whimper. Oh god, yes, lower. Give me your hand, I'll show you.
"Say it, Sarah. Are you wet? Has it run down your thighs?" I could feel his eyes on me, feel him watching me like a tangible caress, and I realized I had let my head fall back, my breathing so rapidly increased that I was nearly panting.
"Quit exploiting this, dammit," I growled, ignoring the breathy, pleading edge to my voice.
He was close enough for me to feel the heat from his skin, to once again be aware of that buzz of magic around him, and I concentrated on not whimpering again as I felt his long, naked fingertips skimming my shoulders.
"I did not drug you, Sarah," he murmured, his breath hot by my ear. I shuddered as his lips brushed against my earlobe, gasped as his tongue flicked out. "The wine was merely wine. However, wine in and of itself is an aphrodisiac, and I suppose if one were in a severe state of unsatisfied arousal, several glasses of wine in addition to the figs and physical stimulation may have an adverse effect. So, tell me, my Sarah," he nipped my ear, and I practically convulsed. "Are you unsatisfied?"
"Like that's even a valid question," I snipped. Unfortunately, something seemed to have shorted between my anger and my vocal cords, because it came out more like a hungry moan.
"Would you like me to satisfy you?" he asked.
I was intoxicated. Not totally wasted, or anything, but far from sober - and maybe if I had been, I would have said no. As it stands, I'm not even sure I actually said yes. I just sort of attacked him.
My mouth latched onto his, and I'm not sure which of us groaned, but our tongues buzzed together and I clawed him closer, hanging onto him as he moved and pressed me up against the wall. I gripped his shoulders and wrapped my legs around him, shimmying to his waist and locking my ankles underneath his pleasantly tight, leather-bound ass, while refusing to break contact with his lips.
Not bad, for being drunk and mindlessly horny.
He grabbed under my thighs pressed our hips closer, grinding against me. I cried out, the sound swallowed by his mouth and answered by a low growl of his own, as the hard, equally pleasant and leather-bound proof of his own unsatisfied arousal pressed between my legs, brushing that bundle of nerves that shot sparks off behind my eyes. Using my heels to urge him on, I voiced my approval and wriggled my hips against his.
A small shudder rippled through him, and as I flattened my hands on his back to feel the muscles moving under his skin, I suddenly realized why I hadn't wanted to kiss Jareth.
It wasn't because I was scared of him or his title. It wasn't because of what his status implied or what I feared would be relegated to. It wasn't because he needed to be taught a lesson in humility, or because he needed to apologize first, or because I didn't want to get glitter in my teeth, or any of the other idiotic reasons I had given myself.
I didn't want to kiss Jareth because I was afraid that if I started, I wouldn't be able to stop.
And it seemed my fears were well founded.
She was gripping him as though the world would shatter if an inch of space came between them, and god help him, if she moaned one more time like that -
He had to stop. Had to.
He managed to tear his lips away from hers, but they simply reattached themselves to her jaw line, and he settled for trailing down her lovely, decidedly tasty neck.
"You're drunk," he murmured between nibbles on her throat. She made a clearly intentioned 'So what?' noise that vibrated pleasantly against his lips, and he gently worried her flesh with his teeth, hoping to coax another moan out of her. She complied, and pressed her heels harder into his ass, grinding herself against his erection. He growled and just narrowly refrained from thrusting against her, settling for tightening his hold under her thighs and slowly inching her downwards.
"You'll hate me for this in the morning," he told her earlobe, grazing his teeth along the soft bit of skin. "We should stop."
She panted against his cheek, working her hands under his shirt. "No we shouldn't. Promise I won't hate you."
He groaned as she dragged her manicured nails down his back, and gave the shell of her ear a sharp nip of approval. She puffed out a small gasp and seized the hem of his shirt, pulling it impatiently upwards to bunch underneath his arms.
"Sarah, we really should wait until - "
She silenced him with a well-executed wiggle and pressed her lips back to his.
"Shut up," she said against his mouth, and tugged again on his shirt. "Off."
He obeyed, bracing her against the wall and lifting both his arms over his head, relishing in the sight of Sarah's eyes hungrily roving his chest. The effect was marred, however, by the slightly glassy quality to her gaze - evidence of her inebriation.
She bent to his neck and bit down on his rapidly beating pulse point, scattering his thoughts for a moment. He tried again as she started trailing kisses down his chest.
"At least for a few hours, ju-hah-" she closed her small, even teeth around his nipple, sending a jolt through him, and slipped a hand between them to wrap her fingers around the results of her ministrations.
There was really only so much a man could bear.
That had caught his attention.
He went extremely tense for a moment as I stroked and squeezed him through his pants, and I felt a brief moment of self-satisfaction that I had literally paralyzed the Goblin King with my touch.
It lasted until I dragged my nails along the hard length under the leather.
He gasped out a low "Hah", a violent shudder nearly jarring my legs loose from his waist, and growled in a way that warmed my stomach. Though that may have been the wine talking.
I smirked, raising my head to lick at his thrumming pulse, and gasped as I was suddenly pulled away from the wall.
Clinging to Jareth's shoulders, I felt my eyes glowing as I watched the bed grow closer.
Finally.
Jareth pressed his lips to my shoulder, giving it a small bite. "You'll thank me for this later," he said.
And then tossed me on the bed and promptly vanished before I had even finished bouncing.
I blinked, staring at the space that used to host a Goblin King (with a woman wrapped around his waist), in mild confusion, before yelling in frustration.
"What the hell!" I screeched, pounding my fists against the duvet. "I was finally giving in! Bog-dammit! So what if I'm drunk!"
I pummeled a nearby unfortunate pillow until my energy died down, if not my arousal, and collapsed back onto the covers.
"Now I'm really gonna hate you in the morning."
Ziggy was ecstatic.
Lady Sarah, in return for his unfailing loyalty during the Epic Goblin Battle, had granted him The Plastik Dragon of Spraying Doom.
And it was fantastic.
Unfortunately, the colorful waterskin thingies on the sides must be full for the Dragon to shoot its watery doom-breath at unsuspecting foes, and when he went empty Ziggy had to run for his life (which was very dangerous, as he saw two of everything and it could be rather confusing when moving at high speeds), but after a stroke of genius during which he filled the Dragon's outside bellies with Bog Water, everyone kept a decent distance from him, regardless of whether or not he could shoot Watery Doom at them at that particular moment.
On another unfortunate note, everything in the Labyrinth smelled vaguely of Bog. It was a decidedly Not Fun smell.
However, it was still Very Fun to shoot everything that moved until it ran screaming from him, doused in boggy dampness. And as he was the only goblin with The Plastik Dragon of Spraying Doom, he could lord it over Dizz, who had been going on and on about being the Smartest Goblin Ever. Ziggy made absolutely sure to shoot him an especially lot whenever he was around.
He hoped Lady Sarah was having this much fun in her Tiny Castle, now that King had gone to visit. He would have gone to say Hi, but King had Decreed that You Bloody Smelly Vermin Are To Stay The Hell Away From Me, and after the Chicken Expulsion, it seemed like a good idea to do what he said. For a while, anyways.
AN: Hey, I never said it was out-of-the-ballpark smut. Just... smut-ish. Anyways.
I'm sure that most of you have figured out by now that I'm not exactly a fast updater. . I'm sorry for that, darlings, but alas, tigers and changing stripes and whatnot. I wanted to warn you not to get your hopes up this time around, because I'll be participating in the 2010 NaNoWriMo (with an original fiction), and therefore will pretty much only be writing on that for the entirety of November. (To any of my fellow literary masochists out there, I wish you luck!) Therefore, it is doubtful that anything will be posted on my site here until at least January. :( I'll miss you, darlings!
I adore hearing what you all think, and though I may not be writing on MA for a bit, your reviews always mean a lot to me!
Skylinger: Lol! "Dammit, Jeff, move your ass." :) Your review made me laugh.
Camcalli: Yay! I keep getting that 'Sarah shouldn't be so mean to Jeff' comments, but… she would be, really. Glad you agree. :) Thanks!
Her Royal Goddess: Wow, awesome imagery! Raging fire, indeed. Thanks for the review!
DaughterOfThe1King: Thank you, darling!
Cybernetic Mango: Lol! I cracked up at your comment. That was an awesome summary. My sides…
MyraValhallah: Curse that Jeff… :) Thanks for the review!
CoffeeKris: My dream come true! I've always wanted a horrible wretch of a child to irrationally hate me and reject my love. :D And lol! I promise, should anything happen to me, you'll have first dibs on chapter adoption.
Green-eyed-owl: Aw, alas, no pranks on the date… Too bad, though - it probably would have livened it up a bit. :) I'm glad you enjoyed it so far!
Labyrinthloverxx: :) Hope you enjoyed!
The Three March Hares: Ack! Please don't die!
Freak-4-God: I considered that, but… It really wouldn't have been fair to Sarah. Or anyone else for that matter, as I would have promptly spontaneously combusted at having to describe that, and the story would forever be unfinished. (…I swear that's not really going to happen, though!)
Nanenna: Heh, sorry, love, no innate magic for Sarah this time around… :D Glad you enjoyed the Man Off! No more confrontation in this chapter, but fear not, there is more to come. Jeff, while currently discouraged, is after all male - and therefore irrationally stubborn. He'll be back for more…Thanks for the feedback!
LittleMargarita: Glad I could make you laugh, darling. :) Thanks for the review!
Horcruxhorror: I feel I should warn you that my definition of 'soon' is rather subjective, heh. Thanks for the review!
IvyBear: Lol! Happy to please, darling. Hope you liked!
NotWritten: :) Thank you, darling!
Sallafe K: Lol 'Cause he's GAY. :D Hahaha! Loved the titles, by the way! I should let you name them.
InsanityFairy: If ever you feel bad for Jeff, darling, simply remember that he can have any (other) girl he wants - and has broken his own fair share of hearts, has fabulous teeth, and a gorgeous car. And he's rich.
…Feel a little better?
Ljuba: :D Thank you, darling!
Simply01: No crashing, but… he did it better. A nice compare-and-contrast is always good for a dig. :) Glad I kept you interested, darling!
Takissis: Lol, Glad to hear it, darling. Hope you liked!
Mnleonard: Aww, sorry to disappoint, darling! No sabotaging this time. Sarah agreed to the date, now she has to suffer through it…
Sarah Not Williams: Egad! No! Anything but!
Lindzxhatter: Lol Muscle cars make everything better. I'm a firm believer that all boo-boos can be fixed with an El Camino or two.
Tar Irene: Ack, I know! I'm trying to get better (honestly), but I'm sort of an apostrophetical fiend. And don't feel bad - Grammar correction is never obnoxious if the person is unaware.
Surelady: -Waves- hallo, darling! :D Glad you like! (Domino is my favorite, too! :) Little secret - he's actually the main character. Everyone else is just there for fluff.)
Foreverandtrulyyours: :) Thank you, darling!
The Mub: Well, it is hard to compete with Jareth. :) Thanks for the review!
MichArela: Lol not quite, apparently. The UST hangs on just a bit longer…
Yasu Uchiha: Lol apologies, darling. Mmm, sounds gorgeous! Love Mustangs. Glad you enjoyed!