11
The smells made her suspect, the sounds made her almost positive but it was the news stand she passed that made her absolutely sure of where she was with its gazillion copies of the New York Times. New York? Why on Earth would Jareth come here?
Sarah rolled her eyes at her own stupidity. Where else would he go?
She ventured back down the alley trying to ignore the smell of urine. She had appeared there. Jareth must be close.
She walked down further still and found a door with a dim light above it. Unafraid (she was the Goblin Queen, after all) she knocked on the door, and assumed the traditional Goblin Royalty air of arrogance. The door opened. An enormous man with an ear-piece dressed all in black stood there in front of her.
"Yes? Can I help you?" his voice expressed little desire to actually do so.
"I'm here to see Jareth." She stated. She stared him down. He stood back and let her pass.
They were heading down a set of stairs into a dimly lit basement. Sarah heard music. A guitar. And a familiar voice singing an unfamiliar song. The stairs came out beside a bar, and from there she could see a stage, and he was on it. Dressed, she had to admit, very well all in black with no sequins or high heels in sight. Except for the insane hair style of course. That was still there. She watched him perform, half amused, half amazed. He'd been here a week and he'd already found himself a gig in a club.
He wasn't bad, either.
He finished his song and his gaze passed over the audience as he basked in their attention. The applause. The flattery.
It was just like seeing him in the throne room back home surrounded by goblins.
His gaze settled on Sarah, as she knew it would. Their eyes met and he raised an eyebrow. Then he smiled a wicked smile and went back to his music. Clearly he would make her wait for his convenience. He wasn't the one on a schedule.
