"Why have you been letting me teach you my stupid recipes when you could cook like this the whole time?" Sarah asked, taking a second bite of Jareth's pasta.

"A single dish does not a chef make," he explained. "Besides, watching you cook is an… entertaining experience. I'd wonder, sometimes, why you'd put certain ingredients together, but everything you made was edible, even if it was something I did not personally enjoy."

"I'm figuring you out," she said slyly. "You hate artificial flavors; you like the real stuff."

"No flavored rice."

"No flavored rice," Sarah agreed. "Which is a shame, because I actually really like it. Plus, it's like a dollar per box."

"And it's important to you that your food be as inexpensive as possible."

Sarah put a bite of pasta in her mouth to give her time to form an answer. "Yes and no. It's not that I prefer cheap food. If I could, I'd eat the good stuff every day - what I wouldn't give for a vegetable that didn't come out of a can," she said dreamily. "And I've been craving roasted chicken since you mentioned it on, what was it, your first day here?"

She stirred the noodles on her plate, then added. "Understand, please, that I don't like to talk about money. It's considered… not rude, exactly… gauche, I guess."

"Gauche?" Jareth said with evident humor.

Sarah blushed. "It's just not the done thing."

"I see."

"I just want you to know that I don't like talking about it, but I'm going to."

"Understood."

She nodded and put down her fork. "I buy cheap food because I have no money."

"But your father owns half the town. Or so I've heard."

"Travis again?" she guessed.

Jareth nodded.

"Yeah, well, that's an exaggeration, but not by much. So, sure, my dad has money." She paused and looked at Jareth meaningfully. "But I'm not my dad."

"And he will not share."

"Share? No." Sarah shook her head. "Don't get me wrong; he'd be happy to step into this situation and fix everything. Well, fix the things that money can fix, anyway. But I don't want to take money from him because he would see it not as help, not as a loan, but as a purchase. And once he purchases something, he owns it for good."

Jareth looked at her blankly.

"There are always strings attached," she explained. "It's not that I think he'd ask me to do anything bad; it's just that I could very well end up just being his employee for the rest of my life. I want to do other things, you know? I can't be reliant on him forever."

He remembered her earlier words. "Because self-reliance is freedom."

"Exactly."

"I think it is impressive that you've managed all you have, especially with no help from your parents."

Sarah squirmed.

Jareth raised an eyebrow.

"Karen - my dad's wife - she slipped me a couple hundred dollars every once in a while."

He laughed.

"Oh, stop it," she chided, but then turned serious. "Being self-reliant was all well and good for the first couple of months. I remember her telling me that it would blow over. That the truth would eventually come out. But then I lost my job and everywhere I went, people would stare and whisper. Going out is an ordeal. Getting someone to hire me? Pretty much impossible. So, yeah, she's been giving me a couple hundred now and then. Just to keep the lights on. I'm positive she's not telling dad."

"Your father's wife?" Jareth asked. "Not your mother?"

"Stepmother."

"You get along well."

Sarah smiled slightly. "We do now. After I came back from the L…" She stopped. "Well, long story short, she's one of the few people who isn't looking for some sordid story about me." She picked up her fork and took another bite. "Doesn't stop her from looking for sordid stories about other people, but who am I to judge another's flaws? Especially now."

"What was your job before-"

The sound of a key in the front door surprised them both.

"Sarah? You here?" Sadie shouted as she entered the house, a diaper bag over one shoulder and Marley's car seat carrier on the opposite arm.

Jareth stood from the table immediately.

Sarah swallowed and wiped her mouth. "Sadie! I completely forgot to call! Yes, I'm fine. I'm so sorry!"

"What happened? You were supposed to be by hours ago!" She dropped the diaper bag over the back of the couch and set the carrier down by the side table.

"That's my fault, I'm afraid."

Sadie turned and looked at Jareth, her eyes traveling from his head to his toes and then back up again.

"Jareth?" she asked.

"Yes."

She grinned and stuck out her hand. "Sadie Bonneville. Pleased to meet you."

"Enchanté." Jareth bent slightly at the waist, took Sadie's offered hand, turned it slightly, and placed a delicate kiss just over her knuckles.

"Oh… well…" Sadie said, shyly tucking a lock of hair behind her ear. The moment he turned away, she gave Sarah a meaningful look and mouthed Ooh he's fine! before schooling her expression back to pleasantly neutral.

Sarah smirked.

"Sarah stayed up most of the night worried about me."

"What? Why?"

Marley gave a short, snuffling cry, the first sign of an oncoming wail, and Sadie turned and knelt to pull the infant out of the carrier.

Sarah rose from the table. "I can take her, Sadie."

"Allow me," Jareth interrupted.

Sarah started to protest, but in a smooth, practiced motion, Jareth had plucked Marley from Sadie's arms and tucked her football-style in the crook of one of his arms. The baby calmed instantly.

"How did you do that?" Sadie asked.

Jareth looked at Sarah, unsure how to answer.

"Some people just have a knack, I guess," Sarah said.

Sadie laughed, "You look like you just saw a ghost, Sarah! What? Not used to being around someone who's better with babies than you?"

"Guess not," she said slowly as she settled back into her chair.

"Please Sadie - may I call you Sadie?"

Sadie nodded.

"Please have a seat. Would you like some lunch?"

"Oh, I couldn't impose…"

"Nonsense. There is plenty to share."

"Well, in that case…" Sadie sat and looked pleased as Jareth used his free hand to pull a clean bowl out of the cupboard. "Aha! I see you've shown Sarah what cupboards are for!"

Jareth grinned, but Sarah did not. "Let me help with that," she said, rising again from her chair. This time, no one argued or asked her to sit back down. Sarah took the dish from Jareth, scooped some pasta into the bowl, and set it and a fork in front of Sadie.

"Wow, this looks really good. Must be Jareth cooking." She winked at Sarah.

Sarah rolled her eyes and sat down.

"So, what happened? We don't have much town here to get lost in," Sadie said, picking up the fork and twirling her pasta.

"Pardon?" asked Jareth.

"You said Sarah was out all night looking for you. I figured you got lost."

"No," Sarah said. "I was an idiot and yelled at him about something and he left."

"Oh, shoot," Sadie let her fork clatter in her dish. "I'm butting in. I should go."

"It's ok now," Sarah assured her.

"So you were out all night looking for him so you could make amends?"

"Basically."

"That's actually kind of sweet. Jareth, don't you think that's sweet?"

Jareth stopped his pacing long enough to agree in the driest possible tone, "Yes, very sweet."

"Where'd she find you?"

"She didn't."

"He was over at Travis Kasekamp's house. He just got back about an hour ago."

"Ohhh. Ok. Well, next time you decide to be an ass, Sarah, just give me a call so I know when to expect you. Ok?"

Sarah smiled sheepishly. "Sorry, Sade. Had other things on my mind. Won't happen again."

Sadie shrugged. "No biggie. Gave me a chance to get out of the house, which I have to admit, feels really good. How's ol' Travis doing?"

"Very well. However, speaking of Travis, I should get back to the store."

"Oh, but I just got here," Sadie pouted. "I was hoping we would have a chance to get to know each other."

"Another time," Jareth said with a smile as he handed Marley back to Sadie. The infant, who had nearly fallen asleep, protested a little, then settled comfortably into her mother's arms. Jareth crossed the room and picked up the guitar. "Sarah," he said, giving her a meaningful look. "See you tonight."

Sarah nodded.

When the door closed, Sadie turned to Sarah. "Ok, spill."

Sarah sighed and told her the whole story, sparing no details.

"Oof," Sadie said, sitting back into her chair. "That's pretty rough. Sorry about that 'ass' comment earlier. That was maybe too on-the-nose for a joke."

Sarah waved away the apology. "It doesn't matter. Part of me thinks I should have told him the whole story when he first got here. The rest of me would prefer he not know at all, even now. I'm just so tired of it, you know? I feel like it's all I ever think about. The last thing I want is yet another person talking about it."

"I don't know… I don't really think it could have gone any better than it did. He knows everything now and he's still coming back. That's something."

Sarah looked thoughtfully at her dish.

"You ok?" Sadie asked.

"Just thinking about how I'd feel if he really had left. Two weeks ago, nothing would have made me happier. But now?" She looked at Sadie. "I think I'd be a little crushed. I didn't realize how much I like having him around."

"If I didn't have a sleeping child in my arms, I'd be jumping and hooting for joy right now," Sadie said sedately. "Just thought you should know."

"Well, don't get too excited. I'm not sure I like that I'm apparently so lonely that even Jareth is good company."

"He seems nice."

Sarah looked at her doubtfully.

"You know him better than I do," Sadie said with a shrug. "But after the past two weeks? And he's still here? Making food? Snuggling babies? Seems all right to me."

Sarah conceded with a small, uncertain nod and roll of her eyes.

"So…"

"So…?"

"So what are you going to do about it?"

"About what, exactly?"

"About your new roommate."

Sarah bit her lip and breathed deeply once. She exhaled and said quietly but firmly, "You know exactly what I'm going to do."

Sadie smiled slightly and nodded. "I do. And I'll help you."

Sarah reached across the table and held her friend's hand.

"Ready?" Sadie asked.

"Yeah."

Sarah gathered her supplies while Sadie looked on, holding Marley in the crook of her arm. Then, together, they walked down the hallway.

Turning the knob and gently pushing the door open, Sarah and Sadie stared into the master bedroom. All of Jason's things were thrown about with no care as to where they landed, a rash action she'd hoped would help her avoid thinking about him - to keep her from wallowing in a pit of misery that threatened to swallow her whole. It had worked, in a way. And it had backfired in a way as well, because, when it came to this room, it was as if no time had passed at all. The wound was still fresh and raw.

"You ready for this?" Sadie asked.

"Yes." Sarah opened the black trash bag, and began to fill it.

The sun was rising.

Acton closed his eyes to the beam of golden sunlight on the far end of the oubliette, wishing he could ignore it. It would never reach him - never dry his damp clothing or warm his frozen fingers.

Gods, it was cold. He'd stopped fantasizing about a hot bath and a good meal days ago. No point.

It was torture watching that sliver of light cross the wall of the oubliette. Torture and his only source of entertainment. Unless, of course, you counted…

And there it was.

The sound of them always started faintly. It would be deafening soon enough.

Acton pulled his knees up to his chest and buried his head in his arms. Every. Damn. Day. What he wouldn't give for one morning where they didn't perform this sick ritual.

The noise grew louder slowly as they came closer and louder still as they entered the oubliette en masse. The banging, clanging, laughing horde of goblins.

Sometimes, he could swear they were intent on humiliating him, but his brain rebelled at the idea. Intentions require planning, and goblins were incapable of that. They couldn't even forget him in an oubliette, and that would have been the easiest thing in the world to do.

They came singing and cheering around the corner, the sound bouncing off the damp stone walls.

Acton peeked over his arm. There was a new one in the lead. Again.

There was no rhyme or reason to their actions. The sceptre of the Goblin King passed from goblin to goblin as if none of them actually cared who ruled over them. They had no sense of what was at stake here!

He watched as the head goblin marched by with nary a glance his direction, lifting the sceptre up and down as if it were a mere baton.

He surreptitiously studied the horde. A number of hobgoblins were in the crowd. His father had always told him the high king used the hobs to control the goblins. They were slightly more intelligent, but not intelligent enough to rebel. Easy to control, he said.

Jareth had changed everything. Too headstrong and too willing to break the rules of the High King.

There was nothing more dangerous than a headstrong hobgoblin, his father had said.

Acton should have known what his father was planning. If he'd paid closer attention, he might have had time to run away. Surely that scandal would have been more bearable than being dethroned less than 26 hours after being crowned Goblin King.

He'd failed to do a job even a hobgoblin could do. Humiliating.

His eyes narrowed when he saw the shadowy figure that landed him in this Oberon-forsaken place. There he was, drifting just behind the lead goblin, his place in the horde unchanged even as the sceptre moved from goblin to goblin.

But if a hob could control a goblin, and a Fae could control a hob, then, reasonably…

"Oi!" Acton shouted, clumsily rising from his position on the stone floor.

Echos of his voice and the mocking cries of "Oi!" from the goblin horde bounced off the walls.

"You there! Hobgoblin!"

The horde continued shouting, but the shadowy figure paused.

"Yes, you! Come here!"

A brief hesitation, then the shadow moved closer to the cell.

"You must let me out. The High King will not stand for this!"

"Then the High King may sit," the figure whispered. Acton shuddered at the sound of his voice - a whispery, slithery sound, like one piece of parchment scraping against another.

"He and his forces will invade. You must understand that this means war!"

"He may try," the hobgoblin said thoughtfully. "And we will keep those who pass within the walls of the Labyrinth. It has been so very long since we added to the horde."

Acton repressed a shudder at the thought of even more goblins in the Underground. "I could… I could help you, maybe," he said, tentatively.

The hobgoblin seemed to pause and consider. "Quiet!" the voice hissed at the horde.

The goblins quieted, their attention diverted towards the shadowy figure and the man in the cell.

"Help me?" it asked.

Acton swallowed nervously. "Yes. Help you prepare for an invasion by the High King. They will come, but when they do, I can ensure they don't make it to the castle. Do as I say, and ask the goblins to follow, and I promise you, the Goblin Kingdom will stay in the hands of the goblins."

There was a long pause as the shadow considered Acton's offer. "Do as you say?" he muttered. "Ask the goblins to follow… Yes…"

The shadow moved again and neatly plucked the sceptre from the lead goblin's knobby hand.

Dejected, the goblin shuffled towards and disappeared into the horde, his short time as king over.

"My friends," the shadow said, "Our prisoner has informed me that the High King's forces intend to invade! Hobgoblins, to the entrances! We'll stop them before they even enter!"

The goblins cheered once more, thrilled with their new king, as the hobgoblins, more sedate, but looking just as pleased, separated from the mob to carry out their new king's orders.

The new king waved the sceptre in small circles above his head, egging on the horde. Acton was vaguely aware of the morning sunlight quickly fading from the far wall as if obscured by clouds. It did not return.

"Thank you, kind sir, for the helpful advice. I think I can take it from here.

"My goblins!" The new king shouted. "It's feeding time!"

Stale rolls, bits of moldy cheese, rotten tomatoes, and limp lettuce rained down on Acton. He made himself as small as possible and waited for the last part of his daily humiliation to end.