"Hey Tobes, what's up?"
"Not much," said the voice on the other end of the line. "Just wanted to call and check on ya."
"You're a good brother, Toby," Sarah said and Toby could hear the smile in her voice.
"Don't get all sappy on me, Sar. You know I hate that," her brother told her.
"Fine. How are Dad and Karen?" asked Sarah.
"Dad's busy and Mom is annoying. Same as ever… Are- are you gonna come home for Thanksgiving?"
"I don't think I'll make it this year, Tobes. I've got a ton of stuff to do…"
"You'll have Thanksgiving there?" the boy asked.
"Not really," answered Sarah. "Thanksgiving is an American holiday. I'll probably do a shift at the museum and then just have a quiet evening in."
"That sounds lame," grunted Toby.
"Well, that's kinda my jam," joked his sister.
"Ugh, please don't try to be cool," he teased. "It's so pathetic it makes me sad."
Sarah laughed. "Does Karen know you're calling long-distance?"
"Nope, better go."
"Okay, talk to you later, Bro. I love you."
"Bye, Sarah. Iluffyoutoo."
"What was that?" teased Sarah.
"I said bye, ya freak."
"Bye, Tobes."
Sarah had just finished locking up the museum and was preparing to walk home when a sleek, black Jaguar 400 Sport roared up and parked next to her. The driver's side window rolled down and Jareth leaned out toward her. He was wearing a pair of dark Wayfarer sunglasses and had a gray wool scarf knotted around his neck.
"Get in, loser. We're going on a bender," he told her.
Sarah started to protest, but thought better of it. The car and driver were much too enticing.
She went to the passenger's side and opened the door and tossed her belongings into the snug space behind the seat.
"Nice Jag," she said as she climbed in and fastened her seat belt.
Jareth punched the gas and the car shot forward onto the main road, spitting dust and gravel up behind the tires.
"Is it yours?" Sarah asked as they sped out of town.
"I borrowed it from a friend," answered Jareth. "Though I've always wanted to own a Jaguar."
Sarah smiled at the way he said "Jag-yoo-ah".
"So, where exactly are we going?" she asked.
"We are going to go get blissfully hammered, Judy dear," Jareth replied. "I've just finished grading three stacks of ghastly exams and I need to raise my blood-alcohol level quite a few points."
"That bad, huh?" Sarah clutched the door handle to keep from being slung about by Jareth's handling of the hair-pin turns and sharp curves.
Jareth groaned. "You wouldn't believe the number of idiots who think the Morrigan is Arthur Pendragon's half-sister," he griped.
"I suppose it might be easy to get them a little mixed up," Sarah said.
Jareth turned to her, shocked. "Well, don't tell either of them that!" he cried.
Four bars and more shots than either of them bothered to count later, they were at the door of Jareth's walkup. He was struggling to get his keys out of his coat pocket and into the door and Sarah was not making the task any easier for him. Her arms were around his neck and her lips were at his ear, gently nuzzling and nipping at him.
"Sarah, dear… if you don't mind. Oohhhh…" he groaned against her as she flicked her tongue over his ear.
He grabbed her and swung her around until her back was against the door. He leaned in, eyeing her hungrily and Sarah offered her lips up to him. Jareth smiled as the key clicked in the lock and the door swung open causing Sarah to stumble backwards into the lounge.
"Ass," she teased, sticking out her tongue.
"Oh, Judy," snarled Jareth. "I wouldn't do that if I were you." He grasped her by the arms and pulled her roughly to him until she was flush against his chest.
"Let's see what that wicked tongue can do," he rasped before pulling her into a searing kiss.
Sarah moaned against his open mouth and moved her body against his, grinding against the hardened bulge in his trousers. She wanted to unfasten his pants and release him, to see him, to touch him, but Jareth held her wrists firmly in his grasp.
The kiss deepened and Jareth walked them slowly across the room until Sarah's back hit the far wall. He pressed into her, unashamed of his pronounced arousal. The feel of him poking into her thigh set Sarah's body aflame. She wrenched her arms from his grip and yanked his shirt out of trousers and began to unfasten the buttons, her mouth moving feverishly over his. With the buttons undone, Sarah pushed the shirt off Jareth's shoulders and placed her hands on his bare chest. The warmth of her fingers on his cool skin jolted Jareth out of his stupor and he pulled away from her.
"Wait, Sarah," he said gently. "We shouldn't do this. Not like this, love."
"But I want to," Sarah whined and reached for him.
"You only think you want to," countered Jareth, taking her roving hands in his. "We're both terribly drunk and horny and that does not make for a good morning."
"But Jareth…"
"Sarah dear, I don't want to risk losing your friendship for a fuck neither of us will remember tomorrow. Now, you can stay the night, but you'll sleep in the bedroom and I'll sleep on the sofa."
Sarah nodded and leaned her head against his shoulder. He was right, she knew. They had come too far to ruin a good thing with a drunken one-night-stand.
"Good girl," said Jareth, kissing her forehead. "I'll find you something to sleep in and leave you to it, okay?"
"Okay," mumbled Sarah. Her head was foggy and her eyes didn't want to stay open, but her body was still screaming to be thoroughly fucked by someone who knew how. Jareth led her down the hall to the bedroom and pulled a soft tee-shirt out of his dresser and handed it to her.
"Get comfortable and get some sleep, Judy dear," he said. "We're both likely going to feel like utter shit in the morning."
"Sweet dreams to you too, Chips," Sarah sarcastically replied.
Jareth kissed her forehead again and left the room and she stumbled out of her corduroy pants and pulled off her sweater. She slipped Jareth's tee-shirt over her head, crawled onto his large platform bed and sprawled out across it. She didn't even bother turning out the light before falling asleep.
Sarah staggered out of Jareth's bedroom at around eleven the next morning. He was more than a bit startled when she padded into the kitchen in only her underwear and the tee-shirt he'd let her borrow. She plopped down onto a stool by the counter and gazed up blearily at him and he handed her a steaming cup of coffee.
"Thanks," she said. "Not just for the coffee, but also for being sensible last night. That was a cool move, Chips."
"Yes, well, my testicles were less-than thrilled by my sensible turn," Jareth quipped and Sarah snorted into her coffee mug.
"Still," Sarah began once she had recovered. "I appreciate that you value my friendship that much. Most guys wouldn't have stopped."
"I am not 'most guys'" said Jareth. "But yes, I value you a great deal, Sarah."
They gazed silently at one another for several moments before the tea kettle whistled and Jareth turned away to the stove.
"And dammit," thought Sarah, "I still want you."
Even with the thick cover of blue-gray clouds hanging in the November sky, the daylight burned through Sarah's retinas and made her head throb. She trudged slowly home from the train station with her work bag, purse, and a plastic container of Jareth's homemade butternut squash ravioli for her dinner.
"Never drinking again," she inwardly groaned. "Not shots, anyway."
Turning onto her street, Sarah noted an unfamiliar car parked in front of her block of row-houses.
"Someone must have company," she said aloud. "I hope they're quiet."
She wanted nothing more than to take a steaming hot shower and then crawl into bed and stay there for days. She was grateful for Jareth's noble actions the night before, but it did little to lessen her mortification over her own actions.
"You could have ruined everything," she chided herself.
It would have been so easy for her to give in to him. He obviously wanted her. His erection digging into her thigh had proven that. She had wanted him as well. Still wanted him. Her body throbbed and ached and she considered retrieving her trusty old battery-operated friend from her bedside table and finding some relief before her shower.
Sarah staggered up the path and put the key into the lock, but the door swung open wide before she even turned the knob.
"There you are!" cried a concerned-looking Karen. "We've been trying to call you all morning!"
Sarah winced against her stepmother's shrill voice.
"Wha-what are you doing here?" she managed to ask at last.
Karen moved aside to let Sarah into the house. "We came to surprise you, silly!" she said. "The landlady let us in. Toby told us what your Thanksgiving plans were and well, I just couldn't stand the thought of you being alone on what's supposed to be a family holiday!"
"We?" squeaked Sarah.
"Of course! Robert! Toby! Sarah's home!" called her stepmother and Sarah clutched at her pounding head.
Toby bounded down the narrow stairs. "Hey sis!" he cried, throwing himself at her.
He stepped back and looked up at her. "Sarah, you look like shit," he said.
"Tobias Williams, what have we said about that kind of language?!" scolded Karen.
"Ugh, whatever. It's true. Look at her." He pointed at Sarah and Karen finally slowed down enough to take a good look at her stepdaughter.
"Oh my!" she exclaimed, laying a hand over Sarah's brow. "Are you ill?"
"No," mumbled Sarah. "Just had a bit of a late night last night, that's all. And I'm kind of shocked to see you guys here… without calling first to let me know you were coming."
Karen missed the bite in the last statement and gushed on about how Sarah's father had suggested they call ahead to make sure it was okay for them to come, but she had not wanted to spoil the surprise and just knew that Sarah would be thrilled anyway.
Sarah's father came in from the garden with a load of wood for the fireplace. "Hey there, Princess," he said, setting the wood aside and embracing her. "Hope you're not too put out with us for showing up like this. Your stepmom wanted it to be a surprise."
"It certainly is that," Sarah groaned.
"My family is here," Sarah told Jareth later over the phone. She was hiding out in her bathroom while her father and Karen and Toby watched a ridiculous reality show on her television in the lounge.
"Isn't that a good thing, love?" asked Jareth.
"I suppose," she answered. "But they didn't tell me they were coming. They're planning on staying for Thanksgiving. What am I going to do with them? I know they'll be expecting the traditional meal, but you know I'm rubbish in the kitchen!"
"Hmm," Jareth said over the line. "Thanksgiving. That's the one with all the orange food, correct?"
Sarah had never considered it that way, but she supposed he was right. The usual Thanksgiving fare consisted of things like roasted carrots, candied yams, sweet potato casserole and pumpkin pie.
"Yes," she told him.
"Then leave it to me, Judy darling. You entertain your charming family and I'll take care of dinner."
"But what will I tell them about you?" Sarah asked.
"Tell them the truth," said Jareth. "I'm your devilishly handsome friend from London with whom you went on a drunken spree and nearly shagged senseless last night."
"Not helping, Jareth."
"Well then, I'm sure you'll think of something," Jareth told her. "I'll see you in a bit."
"Wait. What?" Sarah asked, but he had already hung up. Seconds later the doorbell rang.
"So much for 'careful consideration," Sarah muttered to herself as she made a mad dash for the door.
A/N:
So, a surprise visit from the fam. What do you think will happen? *soap opera announcer voice* Will Jareth be on his best behavior? Will Thanksgiving go off without a hitch? Will Jareth and Sarah EVER get it on?
I'd love to hear your thoughts. Also, has anyone followed the playlist? What do you think?
As always, thanks for reading, following and adding your comments!
~Fanny~