095. Carefree
This wasn't working exactly as she'd planned, Sarah realized, halfway through an awkward waltz-disco with her incredibly short escort. Jareth was over there on his side of the ballroom laughing. No, not laughing. Chortling. Sniggering. Chuckling in a slightly maniacal variety.
Evil son of a bitch, she decided as the batteries she'd taken from the remote to fuel her tiara died an abrupt death. It probably was a sock and he probably turned into a warty goblin toad thing at midnight. Well, thirteen o'clock.
Except watching him laugh like that, suddenly her stomach was all… wobbly.
Sarah blamed the punch.