"You have got to be kidding me," Sarah muttered to herself, mouth agape with horror at the sight before her. She'd seen plenty of things that challenged the limits of even her own boundless imagination, but this was the first thing that made her want to turn around and pretend she'd seen nothing. Unfortunately, it was not so easy to unsee.
Of course, Sarah supposed, she really should have seen this coming. After starting the day by being awakened by a terrified scream, only to discover it had been her own, she could already tell this day was shaping up to be a bad one. Having expected to have a respite from Labyrinth dreams and maybe have some vampire ones instead, Sarah stared at the ceiling in defeat. It seemed no matter what happened in her present—even something as impossible as vampires—her subconscious still couldn't help but fixate on her past. This nightmare had been the worst one yet, involving cleaners chasing her down an endless hallway until the inevitable dead end. No matter how much she searched for a false wall, Sarah knew there was no escape. There was no escape from the cleaners in the dream or from thoughts of the Labyrinth, it seemed. As always Jareth stayed blissfully—and frustratingly—absent.
Continuing to lie there and stare at the ceiling, Sarah was hardly aware of the passage of time until her phone vibrated. For a while she ignored it, not really sure if he was ready to be shaken from her thoughts just yet. Finally curiosity got the better of her and she leaned over to grab it, the screen lighting up to show Edward's name. That was when Sarah remembered. Bolting out of bed and seeing it was already ten past eleven, she frantically began pulling clothes out of her closet and darting to the bathroom. After tripping no fewer than seven times and managing to jab herself in the eye as well as stub her toe, Sarah finally considered herself presentable. At least presentable enough, considering she was making Edward wait. Her phone had buzzed a few more times, but she'd sent a quick message asking for five more minutes. It was nearly noon by the time she managed to grab her bag and walk out the door.
It was a relief to see Edward was still standing there, leaning against his car with a smile. Sarah thought she could see something complicated about his expression, but she greeted him with embarrassed breathlessness.
"I was starting to think you weren't going to come out," he commented, making Sarah flush a little. Rubbing the back of her neck, she tried to come up with an excuse that wasn't as rude as telling him she'd forgotten.
"I overslept," was what she finally decided on, causing him to nod as though she had confirmed something for him. For a moment Edward looked serious, but the expression softened into a smile before long as he reached over to flip a wild strand of bedhead behind her ear.
"We don't have to do this if you don't want to," Edward suggested quietly, looking like he was holding back from saying more. Sarah quirked an eyebrow at him. Of course she hadn't been excited about the prospect when he'd suggested it, but she'd already made the commitment. Besides, Sarah still had more questions about him, if not bursting with the same curiosity as last night. The dream had taken a lot out of her.
"Why wouldn't I?" she asked, clicking her tongue. "And you can't leave me hanging on the answer from last night." Edward's silence confused her. He had the same frustrated expression as he often did when looking at her: this time he seemed keen to argue. Sarah wondered if he was looking for an excuse to get out of it. In that case, he probably would have left when she ignored him for so long, wouldn't he? Just as she was about to suggest he didn't have to, Edward sprung back into action, pulling the passenger door open for her.
"Speaking of," he said abruptly, glancing up at the sky, "we'd better make a start before the clouds clear up." Sarah didn't hesitate to get in, not surprised this time as he appeared in the driver's seat before she'd even gotten herself buckled. She just shook her head at it.
"A start to where?" It occurred to her as they started moving that Edward had never mentioned where he meant for them to practice lines—something she was hoping they could forget about in favor of talking about vampires—though clearly he had a place in mind. Perhaps Sarah ought to have been more worried given that she'd only met Edward fairly recently, and he was—by his own definition—a monster. More importantly, however, Edward was a friend. She didn't believe he had any intent to harm her.
"My favorite place," Edward responded, looking at her from the corner of his eye. Sarah's eyes widened at the thought. It all made her feel progressively worse about completely forgetting him this morning. Still, she'd made the effort now. Someday she'd get the Labyrinth out of her head and find a way to function again. Someday.
Edward's favorite place was an enigma to Sarah. She didn't doubt it would be private, but her mind started filling with images of fancy clubs and high-scale hotels—none of which existed in Forks. When he pulled off to a lot beside a forest trail, Sarah glanced around in confusion. As always, he beat her to the door, though she'd been too distracted to try and race him. Her eyes were full of curiosity as she stepped out.
"It's this way," he said, gesturing down the trail that stretched out in front of them. It looked as though it was infrequently—if ever—used and Sarah noticed not another car in sight. If nothing else she was right about the privacy, she supposed.
Sarah couldn't remember the last time she'd been for a real hike in the woods, but that didn't chance the fact that she loved every second of it. Edward's few attempts at conversation as they walked were quickly ended as it became obvious that Sarah's attention was no longer on him. Instead she felt as though she was just a girl again, dancing in the park and playing make believe with the creatures she found there. Her one and only frustration was her apparent lack of attention or coordination which made her trip on nearly every exposed root or large twig. It had reached the point where Edward had taken to offering her his hand whenever they reached a medium-sized obstacle. It was only with great reluctance that Sarah admitted it was helpful.
After a few miles of hiking and daydreaming, Sarah's breath was taken away by the conclusion. Stepping out into a brightly lit meadow, she actually gasped as she dashed out with no concern for her safety. It might not have been the largest or most impressive clearing she'd ever seen, but she loved it immediately anyway. Twirling around in the sunlight, Sarah beamed as brightly and even laughed, enjoying the feelings of sunlight and freedom. While she couldn't pinpoint exactly when she'd stopped giving herself the freedom to dream like this, Sarah felt like she was bringing back a part of herself that she'd forgotten. It wasn't hard to imagine why Edward loved this place. Edward!
Quickly Sarah turned around, realizing she'd gone and forgotten about him again. It took her a long moment to find him hugging tightly to the shade of the trees. Looking up at the sky, Sarah saw that there was not a cloud in sight. Learning about vampires and sunlight had become less important to her now that she'd seen this place, but he wanted to show her. Making eye contact with him, Sarah nodded. Then slowly—ever so slowly—Edward stepped out into the sun.
"You have got to be kidding me." And so Sarah's already complicated and unlucky day just seemed to be getting worse. The meadow had left her with the hope that things were going to get better, but that was quickly pushed aside the moment the first rays of sunlight hit Edward's skin. He sparkled; what was it with magical beings and glitter? For a long time Sarah thought that she was dreaming. It was more like something out of one of her nightmares than reality. Her mouth stayed agape and her eyes were fixed on him with disbelief so long that he'd managed to walk up to her side before she'd even gotten control of herself.
"Not what you were expecting?" Edward asked, looking confused himself, but accepting the fact that she didn't find it particularly pleasing. Sarah supposed others might think it beautiful. Maybe she would have too if it weren't for the fact that her room back home had been completely infested with glitter: ground into the carpet, stuck to the walls and even falling from the ceiling. Sarah could barely look at Edward as memories of endless scrubbing, vacuuming and washing came back to her in a flash.
"No," she choked out, but she didn't think it was a strong enough word. "I'm just… I'm going to need a minute." Edward accepted this easily too, nodding again as though more and more pieces were falling into place in whatever puzzle he was working out in his head. Sarah didn't even try to figure him out, turning her back on him to take a few long breaths.
"Why is it always glitter?" she muttered to herself.
"Excuse me?"
"Ah… nothing." Sarah turned back around, though the moment she looked at him again she squeezed her eyes shut tight. "Is there any way you can…. Can you stop doing that?"
In the end, they'd moved to the shade. Even if Sarah appreciated that he was answering her questions and showing her another secret of his, this was one she thought she was better off not knowing. He hadn't questioned her about this discomfort, amazingly enough. Though, when he pulled out a copy of the play, Sarah found herself wishing they could talk about the sparkling instead. She'd been banking on the hope that he'd forgotten in the midst of her finding out his secret. She should have known better; Edward never forgot anything.
"You're very hard to figure out," he said after they'd run through several scenes—all of which he'd recited perfectly. He was lying back on the grass with his head propped up on his hand. Sarah, who had been expecting him to go on to the next line, looked up from her copy with a furrowed brow. What could she say to that? To deny it would be implying that she had nothing to hide—which they both knew wasn't true—but Sarah didn't like the conversational paths the comment opened.
"Speak for yourself," was what she eventually decided on, not realizing she'd fallen directly back into her mindset of playing the game. Even if Sarah considered that she'd already won, it didn't mean she had to surrender now, did it? They'd managed to talk about his secrets—and only his secrets—this whole time. Edward just smirked.
"But you've already figured me out," he reminded her pointedly, making Sarah frown. She knew there was more to Edward than just being a vampire, but he was right that it wasn't fair. Sarah couldn't even say that she had more reason to hide than he did; his reveal was as dangerous—if not more so—than hers. Hers merely sounded more insane. Even so, she didn't want to give up more than she had to.
"You can ask a question if you want." That was as far towards compromise as Sarah was willing to go. The obvious use of the singular form was not lost on either of them, but Edward nodded anyway. Either he planned to find a loophole, or he knew this was the best he was going to get. With deep breaths, Sarah prepared herself for the question.
"This play," Edward started, causing the blood to freeze in Sarah's veins and her heart to beat erratically. Edward's brow furrowed as he stopped speaking. For a moment Sarah wondered if he could hear the pounding of her heart. If she had to hazard a guess, she'd imagine it was likely. Lying would be no easy feat. "Do you hate it?" Her heartbeat was still elevated, but the question itself was not the one she'd been fearing. His question was more complicated, sure, but he didn't know. That the play was, for all intents and purposes, the story of her own adventure was still a secret.
"That's… complicated?" Her voice rose at the end as though to mimic a question. What more was there to say? When it finally came to giving an answer, so spoke with careful deliberation, as though choosing each word with the utmost care. "I suppose you could say that. It wasn't really the play I wanted to do. Why do you ask?" Her last question was laced with enough suspicion to cement whatever doubts he'd formed in his mind.
"You try your best to avoid it, even while we're working on the production. You sometimes look as though you're uncomfortable even talking about the subject." Sarah blanched. She thought she'd been more subtle; no one else had noticed. At least, not that she knew of. They were enthusiastic enough to make up for her own hesitation. Sarah was about to open her mouth to agree with his statement when Edward continued. "But when you do talk about it, you talk with a passion that people can only muster for their most beloved things." Did she really? Sarah didn't want to think about the ramifications of that. She chose to ignore it.
"It used to be my favorite," she said at last, sighing as she admitted the fact. "Now… well now it's associated with some memories that I think I'd rather forget." Looking down at the ground, Sarah absently picked at the grass by her hands, if only for something to do. Edward sat up and she could see the beginnings of a question forming. Panic drove her to continue. "And ones I'm not ready to talk about." That was only partially true. Sarah would have no problem talking about those memories with someone who'd believe her and who'd understand, but finding such a person was impossible. The memories weren't bad: they were mixed up with so many emotions that Sarah was afraid to even touch them. Her answer wouldn't spare her forever, she knew, but she hoped he'd accept that now was not the time.
"Those memories," Edward started, causing Sarah to look up at him in surprise. "Are they why you came here?" For a moment she looked back at him in silence, but he hadn't crossed the line she'd drawn in the sand just then. Edward never asked what the memories were, and thus Sarah found herself slowly sighing as she looked back down to fiddle with the blades of grass.
"I guess you could say that," she decided. There was no way to explain the situation without details of what she'd gone through; ones she did not intend to share. "I thought if I got far enough away, somehow it would all just… poof." She made a vague gesture to her head as though memories were disappearing from it.
"It didn't work?" Sarah finally looked up again, mostly to show him her expression of disbelief. Pointedly looking to the script and then to him, she raised an eyebrow.
"How well does it look like it worked?" she asked him as though the answer ought to have been obvious. Maybe it was hard for anyone else to see just how haunted by memories she really was. The longer she was away, the more she felt like she was slipping farther and farther back to the past and losing the Sarah of the present. Edward didn't say anything, perhaps feeling the answer was obvious as well. Silence stretched between them. Words bubbled up and churned in Sarah's chest and maybe Edward could see that too. He waited.
"I was thinking about it this morning," she said, not looking at him. "That's why I was late." It was easier to turn her eyes back to the meadow and pretend as though she was alone, talking to herself. Edward always made her feel like she had to guard her secrets and be mindful of any misstep, so if she could pretend he wasn't there, the words came out easier. "I've been so lost in my own head for a while. Bad dreams, seeing things… sometimes I feel like I really am going crazy. Like it's all in my head and nothing I fear is actually real. But, even if I think that, it really never does go away." Her final words caused a strange flash of recognition over Edward's features, one that quickly melted away.
"What doesn't?" he asked very quietly and very gently. The voice was soothing in a way that Sarah hadn't heard before and it almost made her want to tell him. Right there and then she wanted to spill everything about the Labyrinth and her adventure, if just for the sake of having someone else in town who knew and to whom she could talk about her nightmares. But… no. Sarah looked back into Edward's eyes as he reached a hand forward to cup her cheek and said nothing about any of it. Instead she gave a small and mostly humorless laugh as she gently pulled back from him.
"Don't ask me. You'll think I'm crazy too." Edward didn't try to argue. Sarah didn't think it was because he believed that she could say anything to make him think she was insane, but that he sensed something in her tone that told him not to push. Maybe Sarah just looked so fragile in that moment that he feared pressing the topic any farther.
"Should we stop here then?" he asked finally. She wasn't sure at first if he was talking about the conversation or the line reading as he shifted to reach for the script between them. Sarah nodded, but paused mid-action as she looked down at the page.
"We should finish the scene," she told him, realizing they were but a few lines from the end of the climax. "This… This part has to be perfect." Edward's expression was hard to read and Sarah didn't want to try. After everything she'd said about the play already, it was hard to defend why it was so important that they do it properly. And neither of them believed for a moment that Edward couldn't act it perfectly. He hadn't needed any help with his lines, but Sarah had always known that. Edward was perfect… but he was still no Jareth and somehow the performance never quite worked for her. Edward's lips quirked in amusement.
She didn't have to wait long for him to fall back into his lines, all the while keeping eye contact with her. In all fairness, he really did make a great actor, but Sarah didn't feel her heart stirring in the least. Not like when…. Sarah shook her head. She would not let Jareth cloud her mind again when he wasn't even here. Edward was looking at her expectantly, Sarah noticed, and she realized she'd lost track of his lines as he'd been going through them. Thankfully she could have said her own in her sleep, and they fell easily from her lips.
"Through dangers untold and hardships unnumbered, I have fought my way here to the castle beyond the goblin city to take back the child that you have stolen. For my will is as strong as yours, and my kingdom as great…."
And then, Sarah paused. She no longer had to struggle to remember what line came next—the words sprung to her mind faster than her own name at this point—but, even so, with the bright amber eyes of Edward staring at her, the sound simply wouldn't pass her lips. The idea of reducing the words she'd used to save herself and her brother—and had been clinging to for so long—as just one more line in a play left her cold. It felt like she was mocking them. Those words meant so much to her and to use them in this situation felt like sacrilege.
Noticing her hesitation, Edward continued to hold eye contact, waiting for the words he expected from her. They couldn't go on until she said them, Sarah knew that. If she didn't… he'd end up asking her what was wrong and Sarah would once again be forced to give him vague and twisting answers that never meant much. There were only so many times she could do that before she really was being cruel.
So… she kissed him. It was in the script—the revised version anyway—and though they'd never talked about what they would do about that part, in Sarah's mind it seemed best to skip over the words entirely with a grand gesture than to reduce them to bland dialogue. This had come to be her strategy with Edward, it seemed. If she could not get him to stop asking questions she didn't want to answer, then she'd make dramatic moves to change the subject. She felt Edward stiffen, muscles in his body so tense he was shaking, but he was kissing her back. When she pulled back from him, she noticed his hands had clawed into the ground, carving large divots in the grass. The words still bounced around inside of Sarah's head; she barely realized what she had done.
"What are you thinking?" Edward asked—a recurring question, she'd noticed. Sarah gave a hopeless shrug.
"I…. Why do you always want to know so badly?" The question itself was more accusatory than she'd meant it to be, but she needed a moment to collect herself. It was starting to dawn on her what she'd done. It was hard to wrap her mind around the fact that she'd just kissed someone—and Edward Cullen of all people. She didn't even really know why she'd done it, just that it had felt right in the moment.
"Some vampires have special abilities beyond our normal… advantages," Edward said, with great distaste for the word. "Things like… mind reading, for example."
"Mind reading?" she demanded, her tone blatantly accusatory. Admittedly she was not at her most rational and quickly gave herself to emotion, glaring at him. It wasn't disgust or fear, just the frustration of being toyed with. If he read her mind, he must know about Jareth and the Labyrinth. "So… you know?" It was still an accusation, but it sparked undisguised curiosity in Edward's gaze.
"Which part?"
"If you're reading my mind, you know exactly what I mean," said Sarah. "Have you been playing around with me this whole time? Or… is it…." Suddenly Sarah pushed herself back from him, suspicion laced in her gaze. "Or have you been in league this whole time? You were there! With the van. And the gob—." Sarah cut herself off, shaking her head harshly. "No, you wouldn't be asking if you knew. You wouldn't be…."
"I can't read yours," Edward said, cutting into her desperate ramblings. She could tell her tone had him concerned, enough that he'd rather have her at ease than to take the chance she'd reveal something. Relief washed through her, as did embarrassment. Dropping her head into her hands, Sarah took a deep breath.
"Sorry," she muttered. "Can we… can we pretend you didn't hear that." Sarah glanced up, but one look at Edward's expression made her desperate. "Please. I promise I'll explain some day, but not today, okay? Please?" Would any other day be better? Sarah doubted it, but she'd say anything to get her through this moment. She closed her eyes and rubbed her forehead with her hand.
"Are there a lot of people like me?" Sarah asked some minutes later, for a distraction.
"There's no one like you," Edward replied. Sarah shook her head.
"That's not what I meant." She opened her eyes, feeling like some of the tension was finally draining away. As she was calming down, Sarah came to realize her legs were still shaking and she shifted herself to a more comfortable position. "People whose minds you can't read. Like your family, maybe?" Edward tilted his head, examining her carefully.
"It's just you. I can't read yours."
"Why not?" It was more of a petulant demand than a question, a light flush rising to her cheeks as she realized that. Maybe it was the meadow, the recent scare or the all too familiar lines from the script, but Sarah was feeling more like the bratty pre-teen than she had in years. Edward shrugged.
"I was sort of hoping you could tell me," he admitted with a chuckle, though the sideways look he gave her suggested that he did still have some hope of that outcome. For the life of her, Sarah couldn't think of any reason. In most cases she could explain the bizarre circumstances surrounding her, but this was not one. There was no choice but to shrug.
"Your guess is as good as mine. I don't know," she said.
"Would you have told me even if you did know?" The question caught her off guard, but after a moment it made her laugh. She could tell by his expression there was no bitterness behind it. Part of her always felt that he enjoyed their games as much as she did, so maybe he wouldn't mind continuing a little longer.
"I guess you'll never know," Sarah teased.
It wasn't long after they began packing up that a growl from Sarah's stomach reminded them that one of them still had pressing human needs. The hike would take at least an hour—perhaps longer if Sarah's strength started to fail her. Edward must have seen the dissatisfaction on her face.
"There's a faster way," he said, almost as though reading her thoughts. Sarah immediately squinted suspiciously at him, but settled on the notion that her face gave away more than she liked. "We can travel through the woods my way. Do you trust me?" As innocently as he asked the question, Sarah knew it held a deeper meaning for him. There was a lot riding on her answer. Even so, the response came to her quickly.
"Yes." And, really, she did. Vampire or not, mind reading or no, she trusted him. Maybe time would prove her to be a fool, but in that moment Sarah trusted him more than she trusted most people. Quirking an eyebrow at him, Sarah didn't know what to think at first when he gestured for her to get on his back, but as soon as she'd done so, they were off. The forest raced by so quickly that Sarah didn't have time to process any of it and she'd only just started to get used to it all when Edward suddenly stopped. Her legs felt like jelly as she slid off his back and Sarah reached around for support. Her hand found the roof of Edward's car. They were already back. She was thankful that Edward opened the door for her, because Sarah found herself not up to the task of standing right then. Edward got into the car himself but hesitated.
"Would you like to have dinner with me?" the suggestion surprised her. It would save Sarah the chore of cooking at least. Before she could agree, however, Edward clarified. "Esme mentioned she thinks it's unfair that the rest of us have gotten a chance to meet you while she hasn't. She wanted me to invite you to dinner." From what Sarah remembered about the gossip around the Cullens, Esme was Carlisle's wife which in and of itself spoke well of her, Sarah thought. As tired as she was, there was a draw in meeting the final member of the Cullen family. She nodded.
"You don't have to force yourself," Edward told her immediately after she'd agreed. "I know you're not completely comfortable with this yet…." His words left Sarah confused. She tried to think of exactly what he could mean. The only thing that came to mind was the kiss and she realized they'd never talked about it or what it meant. The idea that he could read minds had her coughing self-consciously at her own thoughts and trying to wipe them from her mind.
"Comfortable with what?"
"With vampires." Sarah snorted. Of all the things he could have said, she thought that one had to be the most ridiculous. Hadn't she already proven several times over that it didn't bother her? She wasn't sure where he'd gotten the impression from and it must have been obvious on her face. "You've been acting weirdly all day…." Sarah was already shaking her head.
"It's been a weird day," she told him, sighing a bit. "But I'd love to meet Esme." That was all the encouragement needed, despite some skepticism in his expression. When her stomach growled yet again, Sarah found that her main concern was simply whether or not vampires were capable of cooking edible food.
On the car ride to his house, they'd somehow ended up on the topic of the play again. There were too many topics with Edward that Sarah was trying to avoid, and she was too tried to juggle them. So, she let it be. It was nice to talk about the Labyrinth again anyway, even if she was talking about it as some kind of fictional world.
"What do you suppose a goblin looks like?" Edward asked her, forcing Sarah to bite her cheek to avoid chuckling. Questions like this were complicated to answer, but they left her with the tiniest of smirks on her face as she answered them with complete honesty.
"I've always thought they'd be sort of cute," she responded, earning her a raised eyebrow from Edward. They'd pulled up to the house—another sight which had taken Sarah's breath away—and made their way inside.
"Cute?" Edward repeated, though with an amused indulgence. He'd come to expect her eccentricities. "In that case, I wish I could see a goblin, right now," Edward jokingly said before Sarah could stop him, but she definitely tried. The moment 'I wish' had fallen from his lips she'd opened her mouth to let out a cry, wanting to cut him off or drown him out or whatever she could do to stop the words from being said. It was much too late now. She froze in the entryway, unable to move or to speak. Carlisle and Esme were both there to greet her with Alice skipping down the stairs to join them. Sarah knew she should make an effort to acknowledge them, but paranoia filled her. She had no way of knowing whether or not those words would even work. Maybe the Goblin King only stole little children. Maybe he only listened to Sarah. Even so, the words 'wish' and 'goblin' together filled Sarah with a childlike terror.
"Bella?" Edward was standing next to her, a hand lightly on her arm. Both the touch and voice were tentative, but Sarah knew he had no idea what he had done. "Do you want to leave?"
A minute passed; Sarah took a deep breath. A minute had passed and nothing had happened. Surely nothing would. That faint smell of peaches and magic was nothing more than her imagination.
"I…." The Cullens' heads snapped toward the hallway, the first indication that Sarah wasn't imagining things. They heard it before she did, but it wasn't long before Sarah could make out the light sounds of little feet clicking on the tile floor. The Cullens could pick out the direction the sound came from immediately, but only Sarah knew what to look for. By the time the small, grey creature came barreling out into the middle of the room, Sarah couldn't find it in her to be surprised.
Edward reacted fastest, a growl rumbling through his chest, but he didn't leave her side. It was Alice who jumped into action, leaping toward the little creature. But, even a vampire's reflexes couldn't help her against the goblin's small size and lack of common sense. Rather than trying to get away, it turned toward Alice, managing to slip under her dive and come out the other side. Sarah suppressed a chuckle as the goblin ran straight into the woman she didn't know—but assumed to be Esme—despite skittering attempts to stop. The room was so lost in confusion that even the vampires couldn't figure out what to do. They didn't even know what they were trying to capture. By the time Esme processed she'd been run into, the goblin was dashing off again. Sarah felt Edward push her behind him and out of the way, and she'd obligingly stepped back. A smirk hung on her lips as the goblin dashed right between Edward's legs and came to a stop at her feet. Small hands clutched at her pant leg. Smiling a bit—though mostly just amused at how confused the rest of the room was—Sarah bent down to pick up the creature before anyone else could try and attack it.
"You're scaring him," she chastised as the goblin buried its face into her shirt. At least, Sarah thought it was a him, she wasn't good at telling goblin genders apart yet. It was hard not to feel some affection for goblins, Sarah thought. While they might not be the most intelligent or attractive or noble creatures, she found it hard to believe they had an evil bone in their body—unlike their king. No matter what, Sarah didn't feel that this one deserved to be at the mercy of four jumpy vampires when it was only trying to do its job. The confusion in the room only worsened. Whereas before it had been the confusion of the moment with things moving too quickly for even the vampires to make sense of, now their confusion was much less frenzied and more palpable as they looked at the thing in her arms. Carlisle, ever the scholar, looked most baffled.
"Don't worry," Sarah said brightly to the goblin, playfully pretending to whisper conspiratorially, "I'd be scared of them too if they were all growling like that. Do you like cookies? I'm sure we could find you one?" At last the goblin peeked its head out to look at her, less anxiety and more hope in its eyes.
"Cookies? What are cookies?" asked the creature in its rough, goblin voice. The room was filled with growls again as the vampires reacted in surprise. Sarah could see Edward itching to pull the goblin right out of her arms, but a look from her stopped him. All she knew right now was that she needed to keep this goblin on her side. Without a shadow of a doubt, this one was real. Besides, wasn't it at least partially her fault that it had ended up here anyway?
"You've never had a cookie? Well, we'll see what we can do about that," she replied, still carrying the goblin as she made her way to the kitchen, ignoring the vampires for now. The only thing on her mind was keeping this goblin quiet and finding out just how much Jareth knew about her location.
Setting the much more cheerful goblin on the counter, Sarah began to root around for cookies. The shelves were much better stocked than Sarah would have predicted, though she suspected it had something to do with her. It didn't take her long to find a box of cookies and even some milk to go along with it. She'd opened the box for the goblin and set it on the counter as she turned away to grab the milk.
"Checking up on wishes is your job, right?" she began conversationally as she poured. "It's probably too much for him to deal with every one, right? So you just let him know if it's anything important, don't you?" Sarah picked up the glass, turning around with a smile. "Of course he woul—." The glass slipped right from her hand, shattering on the floor with an explosion of shards and milk. To her endless embarrassment, Sarah screamed.
She hadn't heard Edward calling for her, nor did she notice that he'd pushed himself in front of her in a protective crouch. No, there was only one thing Sarah noticed. Leaning casually on the counter with a cheerful smirk was Jareth.
"Hello precious. Miss me?"