Author: Ash
E-Mail: aka_jay66@hotmail.com
Disclaimer: None of these characters are mine. They belong to Jim Henson Productions. For the most part, this is a good thing.
Feedback: Would be appreciated.
Note: To all those who aren't familiar with the way this merry merry-go-round
works, if you've ever replied to me, there's a reply from me in the reviews
section. If you asked me questions, I probably didn't give you any answer that
made sense. If you complimented me, I no doubt took the lunacy up a notch. If
you made me laugh, you may get no intelligible answer at all besides snickers.
Yeah, that pretty much covers it. *g*
Part Eleven
In the universal sense, the Earth was orbiting happily around the sun. On the
global scene, life was proceeding as normal for the residents of the aforementioned
planet. Taking a slightly more precise view of events, the customers in a particular
mall were going about their business.
In the ridiculously specific context of Sarah's perspective, a nauseatingly
pink bathroom was rapidly filling up with water.
At the moment, that was all that Sarah cared about. A dissertation on the relative
insignificance of personal problems is likely to earn the disserter a punch
in the nose when ice water is up to the audience's waist and rising.
Sarah waded back over to the door and pulled hard on the handle. Not surprisingly,
it didn't budge. It takes away from the essential point of a death trap if escape
routes are left open.
It may surprise some people that Jareth would be that practical; after all,
this is a man who imprisoned a temperamental teenage girl in a crystal bubble
without bothering to bolt down the furniture first. Given his track record,
one might reasonably expect Jareth's twist on the classic death trap to involve
silk ropes, feathers, and that ticklish place on the side of Sarah's neck.
That would be a mistake. It's true that Jareth has a whimsical side, but he
also has the full set of Supernatural Fiend merit badges and you can't get those
without knowing the basics.
Sarah didn't even notice the faint scratching sound coming from outside the
door; she was too busy panicking. She sloshed back to the center of the room
to look for another way out, resembling nothing so much as a velvet-clad hippo.
(Between this and the Walk of Ostentatious Conformity, Sarah's chances for winning
the coveted Pretentious Walking award were taking a severe hit.)
Something brushed by her feet and Sarah jumped backwards to avoid it. She made
a small furious noise in her throat that sounded like "nrk!" and quickly
made her way over to the counter, clambering up onto it with little grace and
much speed. The water was only a few inches below the edge of the counter now,
and rising.
Shivering in her wet clothes, Sarah peered down into the water. It definitely
gave the impression of icy depths, although with more of the former than the
latter. Part of the impression of depth could be attributed to the shadows that
were barely visible as they glided effortlessly through the water. Occasionally
one would break the surface, its pink and chrome body shedding glittering drops
of water, and then submerge again.
As Sarah watched, one of the aquatic hand dryers began to re-enact a disturbingly
familiar scene:
A helpless bar of soap floated innocently on the water, presumably unaware of
the pink shadow slowly rising from the water beneath it. The shadow circled
the bar, moving in wide circles at first, then narrowing, narrowing Music
could be faintly heard in the air. At first, Sarah thought it was just the mall
music system. Then she recognised the tune: dum Dum dum Dum dum Dum
Sarah closed her eyes. The crescendo started to build and she focused intently
on the sound of the music, because if she was listening to the music that meant
that she wasn't listening to the soft wet noises. She was particularly
not listening to the noise that sounded like - but surely couldn't have been
- a high pitched squeaking.
And then there was silence, and Sarah opened her eyes. There was a faint soapy
film on the water. She swallowed hard.
"Jareth?" Sarah said, the question as close to conciliatory as it
could get without losing the intrinsically furious quality. She stood up on
the counter, leaning back against the mirror for balance. "Jareth!"
She hissed again.
Keeping your back to a hard surface is no match for the need villains
feel to sneak up behind the helpless heroine. Actually, heroes do this too.
It's a guy thing.
"You called?" Jareth said from behind the mirror.
Sarah almost fell off the counter, but saved herself at the last moment by grabbing
onto the roll of brown paper towels. She hung on to it for dear life as she
struggled to get her balance, praying that it wouldn't bite her or lick her
or talk to her. As it happened, it didn't. This could be because Sarah was lucky
enough to grab the one normal bathroom accessory. It could also be because brown
paper towel rolls are nocturnal.
Either way, Sarah was able to use the roll as a handhold as she carefully turned
around to face the mirror and got herself upright again. When she looked into
the mirror, or through it, Jareth was watching her. Sarah had known he would
be, but she still felt a sinking feeling in her stomach.
Jareth's attention wasn't something you could get used to. It was like presenting
at school and performing in a play and noticing the guy you watched watching
you in the hallways all rolled into one. With a little extra kick added because
Sarah knew that Jareth had so much power, enough power to do anything he wanted,
go anywhere he wanted, and what he was doing was standing there watching her.
Watching her with a gleam in his eyes and a twisted half-smile that made her
feel like he knew what she was thinking and that it amused him.
Sarah looked away from his eyes and noticed for the first time that the scene
reflected in the mirror not only had a noticeable lack of *her* but was also
missing about sixty gallons of water. It looked enticingly warm and dry.
"You've decided to come with me." Jareth said, leaning against the
nothing where the mirror should be, about twelve inches and one spatial logistics
headache away.
Doing her best to ignore the water spilling onto the counter, Sarah looked at
Jareth. "I have not." She said firmly.
"No?"
"No!"
"You called me, Sarah." Jareth said. She hated the way he said her
name.
Sarah considered that for a moment. She couldn't possibly admit that she'd been
frightened, she thought. Not to him. "I" she started, and then
trailed off. What could she say? I - what?
I was bored, Sarah thought.
I was talking to the other Jareth, she thought.
I want you to open the door now. Please.
I want to tell you about an exciting promotional offer from the good people
at Amway!
Damn it, Sarah thought.
"I'll remain and talk with you, if that is what you wish." Jareth
said quietly.
Sarah couldn't look at him. She stared down at the film of water gently lapping
at her shoes and said, "Yes."
"All right," Jareth said, and Sarah looked up quickly to see if there
was a smile on his face as well as in his voice. There was, although it didn't
look like the same one. The smile in his voice was almost wistful. The smile
on his face wasnot.
"Would you like to come in here to talk, Sarah?" Jareth continued,
and this time the smile in his voice matched the smile on his face. "It
would be more comfortable." He extended a hand towards her through the
mirror. The fact that he did that while still leaning against the mirror
made Sarah very nervous.
Sarah eyed Jareth's offered hand with mistrust, hanging on tightly to the paper
roll in case he tried to grab her. "I have to say the exact words to go
back to the Labyrinth, don't I?" She asked. "I can't get there just
by stepping through the mirror?"
"Of course you can't." Jareth said. Actually, pretty much anything
is approved by the rules of magic, but Jareth gets final veto power and he flatly
refuses to come for people who say things like "I, um, would really find
it awesome if the goblins grabbed ya." The intent is the important thing,
but Jareth also judges on poise. Sarah got bonus points for calling on a dark
and stormy night.
In this case, Jareth was telling at least part of the truth. Sarah wouldn't
be taken to the Labyrinth if she entered the mirror. Of course, she wouldn't
be able to get back to her own dimension either. But she didn't ask about that.
Reluctant as she was to accept Jareth's word, Sarah couldn't help but notice
that the water was up to her ankles again and still rising. Frowning, she considered
her options. Briefly she thought about attempting to balance on the top of the
wall between the stalls but dismissed it as both humiliating and pointless.
The rasp of claws against wood came faintly above the rush of water and the
metallic clang as the hand dryers drifted against the walls. Oh god, Sarah thought,
please let that be someone trying to open the door.
The surreptitious gesture Jareth made with his hand probably had nothing to
do with her hesitation. Likewise, his hand gesture was probably completely unrelated
to the fact that the water pouring out of the walls suddenly doubled its speed,
the silver curtains becoming frothing fountains that hit the surface of the
water with violent splashes.
Paranoia not caring about probabilities, Sarah glared at Jareth.
His expression was serene with only a hint of triumph evident in the slight
curl of his lip and the silver sparkle in his eyes. His hand was motionless,
the black glove turned upwards in invitation.
Considering that the water was now up to her knees and still rising, Sarah was
beginning to feel a distinct lack of options. There was a chrome shadow swimming
purposefully towards her under the water. Outside, the sun was setting.
The paper towel roll squirmed under her hands and Sarah abruptly made up her
mind. Praying that Jareth was telling the truth, she reached for his hand.
There was a loud crash as It broke through the door.
Sarah's hand fell to her side as she whipped her head around to stare at the
gaping hole that was all that remained of the door. For a moment she caught
a fleeting glimpse of what looked like... fur? before her greatest desire
kicked in and a Scuba Suit lay on the floor. The water swirled around the black
suit as it rushed out the door, making a break for freedom.
The magical liquid made it only as far as the nearest storm drain before it
joined some of the native liquids. Over time, the two waters mingled and lost
all sense of cultural identity as their molecules intermarried. Some of the
elder magic molecules made a valiant attempt to begin an oral tradition of Underground
rituals, but gave up after someone pointed out that water doesn't know how to
talk.
In a matter of seconds the water was gone, leaving hand dryers littering the
floor like beached whales. Jareth was staring at the Scuba Suit. Taking advantage
of his momentary distraction, Sarah jumped off the counter and ran towards the
door.
It perked up as much as a Scuba Suit could perk, latex arms extending towards
Sarah as she came, satisfaction at a heroine well-Lured already beginning to
soak through It.
Its satisfaction was short lived as Sarah jumped right over it, darted through
the door and scampered away down the corridor. Left alone with Jareth, It metamorphosed
back to Its true form. Violet eyes met the angry gleaming ones of the Goblin
King as the two opponents measured each other.
Now, this is the point when a rational person might have suggested something
along the lines of, "Hey! It wants to Lure Sarah somewhere and Jareth wants
to get her back to the Underground. One might even say that he wants to 'lure'
her back. Could there be a connection somewhere in there?"
But no. There's an ancient saying that goes something like this: you can't have
two supernatural creatures in pursuit of the same heroine and expect them to
share. That's not exactly how it goes, but that's the gist of it.
The staring contest between Jareth and It continued as their mutual prey pounded
away through the mall.
Both It and Jareth were placed at the intersection between power and beauty,
desire and fear. Very few things are located exactly at that intersection. That
is to say, either you find them desirable but you still run away, or you find
them frightening but you still stay.
With creatures that are located at the exact point of intersection, the
effect is less clear cut. Your hand is reaching out to touch them while your
feet are running in the opposite direction. Your arm is around their waist but
your teeth are trying to gnaw through your own shoulder to get away.
For a human, surviving an encounter with one of those creatures takes great
skill, great presence of mind and luck. Lots and lots of luck.
Nobody knows what it takes for a human to survive an encounter with two of them.
It's never come up before. The Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Humans
(Except If It's Amusing) would never have allowed it. However, the SPCH(EIIA)
has no jurisdiction over Jareth or It. Therefore, they've decided to ignore
the situation and hope that it goes away, which for some reason is a strategy
that involves a lot of interoffice betting. They're not giving Sarah very good
odds.
Now forget all that. Forget what it takes to survive an encounter with one of
them, forget that nobody knows what it takes to survive an encounter with two
of them and forget the SPCH(EIIA) if you can. Because Sarah hasn't just bumped
into these creatures briefly in the small late-night convenience store of Ships
Passing in the Night, she's managed to get herself trapped with both of them
in the large scary temple of Obsession. The doors are welded shut, there's a
thunderstorm raging outside and there is little to no chance that this is all
going to end with a cheery, "Thank you, come again!" and a quick drive
home with her microwaveable popcorn and large bottle of soda.
Forget that the SPCH(EIIA) isn't giving Sarah good odds too, because this situation
is so unique that it would make any real bookmaker resort to strong drink and
the strategic use of a dartboard. Nobody has any idea what's going to happen,
least of all Sarah.
If Sarah survives, she may or may not receive a small commemorative plate.
________
Heh. There are times when I wonder why I do things like this to my favourite
characters. I really do like Sarah, you know. I wouldn't have done nearly so
well in the Labyrinth. I would have been hysterical with laughter about halfway
through or stuck up on the starting hill trying sketch after sketch to try and
get the maze itself down on paper.
And yet, as I've said before, here we are. Torturing her. I just started re-posting
one of my old Willow/Angelus fics too, and re-editing it has just reminded me
of how this isn't just an isolated incident. Nope, I appear to really enjoy
torturing the characters I like. I don't know why. Sure, I may make jokes in
the fics, but they're not really doing the *characters* much good, now are they?
On the plus side, you can't say I don't have good taste in (hero/villain)s.
(Hellains? Viro's?) Jareth is seductive and threatening in the best of ways,
even if he's not all that touchy-feely, and Angelus is seductive and very touch-feely-bitey,
even if he doesn't have all the nifty powers and great cheekbones. Between the
two of them, I feel fulfilled.
Of course, then there's the rest of my viros. Julian, the kissy face boy with
the creature of darkness vibe. Jack of All Trades, the throaty-voiced serial
killer with the rose obsession and penchant for bloody love notes. Howlyn, who
growls and purrs and basically acts like a big sexy lion-cat-man with gorgeous
dark hair. Spike, with the accent and the cheekbones and the way he was evil
and funny all at once.
And so many others, but those are probably my main ones. *sigh* No wonder I
have so many unfinished fics, eh?
On a completely unrelated topic, which I'm sure shocks and surprises you, I
hope that you're all still enjoying this long strange ride right along with
me. Let me know, as always, much appreciated.
I know that many of you may have voyaged off into the great unknown for the
holidays, so I'll keep an eye out to see how many of my regulars are still around.
*g* (Heh, I have regulars. I'm like a bar! Speaking of bars, I have this great
story Oh, wait. I told you that one already.)
AKA Jay