Wishes

Chapter 7. Second Round. A Truce.

By mikim

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Dedication: For Terrie. Sweetie, your reviews are the best cure against writer's block. Thanks a lot for all the support you've shown me since a Little of Hell.

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Standard Disclaimers Apply. Songs belong to their rightful owners.

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The phone rang thrice before Charlie could reach it. She had just gotten home from an exhausting day at work and as soon as she got the door open, the phone began to ring.  "Charlie Thompson speaking, can I help you?" She said almost panting.

"Charlie? Hi, it's Iome." Iome shifted the telephone better to hold it between her cheek and left shoulder. She padded to the refrigerator and pulled it open, rummaging through, looking for a bottle of fruit juice, but between Sariel's strange looking stuff –brown and feeling like jelly- and Jareth's habits to always buy more meat than they actually needed, it was a more complicated task than she had first thought.

Charlie sat heavily in the chair next to the telephone and kicked her shoes. "Oh! Hi, how are you?"

Triumphant, Iome located the last bottle of juice, behind Jareth's favorite jam and Sariel's Soya milk. "Fine and I came up with a plan." She pushed the refrigerator closed and went back to the kitchen table.

Charlie leaned back in her chair, her eyes twinkling. "Really?" Her feet were finally out of the so many times cursed black high heels shoes she had to wear at work. Absentmindedly, Charlie took off her jacket and loosened her collar.

Over the phone, Iome could almost hear Charlie's smile. "Yeah, now what I need is an occasion." She poured her juice in a glass, proud of her last scheme.

"Go on." Charlie wriggled her toes and picking up the phone in one hand, the receiver in the other, she stood up: she had to pick up her wet umbrella she had carelessly cast away when the phone had rang.

Iome grinned and said quickly. "What about we threw a party. I could work on Sarah, while you'll do Jareth." She was alone home, Sariel was gone somewhere, probably in a museum and Jareth had disappeared before the rain had broken through. She's been slaving in the gym room, listening to some music, when that wonderful idea popped up in her mind.

Charlie frowned a little, thinking. That could be a perfect occasion: they would have to behave themselves, because there would be other people present, they wouldn't be able to throw things at each others heads, nor yell at each others faces if they didn't want half of the neighborhood to know it. "Hey, we're not allowed to dump each others burden on the other one…" She said jokingly. She liked the idea and she had the perfect occasion for it and Sarah wouldn't be able to avoid the party.

Iome looked outside at the rain slashing the doors. The weather was terrible, but she felt at peace, just listening to the rain falling and scheming with Charlie. "I know, but that could rouse Jareth's jealousy and we could get Sarah ticked by curiosity." She pointed out. She had given it a piece of thought beforehand. She knew how jealous Jareth was. Over his sister, over Sariel, even over her, he protected what he perceived as his own with a ferocity Iome had never seen before and on the other hand, the protected one had to suffer the blazing fury of jealousy.

Charlie stopped in her tracks: Sarah was not one to be bond down. Charlie shrugged mentally: one problem at a time, she told herself. But Iome's plan could work. "Hmm… Sarah's curious like a cat…" Charlie grinned and resumed walking. It would work. "My husband is turning 30 in a week…"

As she had expected it, Iome happily exclaimed. "That would be perfect!" Iome wanted to dance. She hadn't been able to find an occasion to throw a party without Sariel complaining and Jareth sulking. Now, they would have both to nod and come along.

Charlie smiled at Iome's enthusiasm. "Ok. My place, Saturday night." She decided.

Iome's excitement fell suddenly. "Why yours? Why not the hacienda?" She asked. That could be a problem.

Charlie rolled her eyes. "Because, silly, it's my husband."

Iome cursed under her breath. "Oh… Right." Charlie had a point. Jareth would be suspicious if they celebrated a birthday in their place for a guy he had met a week before. Iome sighed heavily. "Ok, now I need an excuse to drag Jareth over."

Charlie cringed. Of course, that was why Iome had wanted to have the party at the Hacienda. "Tough work. Good luck." She wished sincerely.

"Hey!" Iome protested loudly. "Help me!"

Charlie sighed, when she said suddenly. "Sarah!" Of course, she was the solution!

"What?"

Excited, Charlie explained quickly. "We could get Sarah to invite him!"

Iome growled her annoyance and drawled sarcastically. "Yeah, sure, and how would you want Sarah to invite him if he growls like he's going to bite if you mention her name in the neighborhood."

Charlie winced. "That bad?"

Iome sighed again. "Yeah…" She had nearly gotten her head bitten, when she had asked Jareth how Sarah was doing. She had thought they had spent the night together, since he had driven her home and hadn't called nor came home for the whole night.

"Oh!" Charlie exclaimed, breaking Iome's chains of thoughts. "I know! Sarah's easy to get guilty! I'll do it! I mean, I'll make her invite him."

Iome wondered what scheme was enfolding into Charlie's charming little head, but she still asked, uncertain. "You sure?"

"Yeah, leave it to me!" Charlie's sure tone and obvious excitement dusted away the last of Iome's doubts and the two started to plan Steward's birthday party, without the principal participant, mainly Steward, as it was supposed to be his birthday, even knowing what was going on.

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As soon as Sarah turned the key in the hole, Jareth asked her. "Sarah." He called her name and she turned around. He was behind her, still on her doorstep, his mismatched eyes fixed on her green ones. "Why did you invite me here?" He asked softly.

Sarah quickly avoided his eyes. The ride to her place had been short and uneventful. He had avoided turning on the radio and she hadn't mind. She too was wet as she hadn't thought this morning to take an umbrella with her.  "I couldn't really let you freeze at the school." She told him, leaving the door open for him to come in while she went to her bedroom to retrieve clothes and towels.

Jareth came in and closed the door behind him. He followed her quickly in her room and said her name again, in a reproachful way. "Sarah." They both knew her previous was but an excuse to get him here.

Sarah froze for a second, but long enough for him to notice, her hands stilled over the towels before she picked them up from her cupboard. Turning, she threw him one and keeping one for her, she turned to take off the wet shirt she had on. Standing before him, even with her back to him, in bra and pants, she really felt naked again. "I…" She hesitated and lowered her arms around her chest.

Sarah didn't add anything and quickly pulled a dry shirt out of her closet and over her head and wrapping her long hair in a towel, she pulled the wet pants off with a hand, reaching for a dry one with another one, as fast as possible. When she had finished dressing, the sound of the rain battling against her windows had dulled so he heard her with no real difficulties when she asked quietly. "Are the songs true?"

Jareth hadn't moved: he had watched her undress and dress again, her body bathed in a the dull light given out by the seldom lightning falling from the skies. The very body he had touched in this very room, the very body so hot and responsive to his. The towel still in his hand, he asked her. "What?" He didn't understand what his songs had to do with the fact she had brought him in her place again. With his left hand he finally started to unbutton his shirt while Sarah turned to her cupboard, trying to find him something to wear, but she had no shirts big enough for him to wear.

Still rummaging her clothes, Sarah answered him. "Charlie made me a copy of your CD."

Jareth dried his hair, topless, his shirt lying carelessly with Sarah's wet clothes, on the back of a nearby chair where she had thrown them.  "Isn't that stealing?"

Sarah ignored him. Her hands were trembling. "I… I listened to it, last night. Carefully..." She admitted and Jareth's movements stilled, his gaze focused entirely on Sarah. Without her noticing, he stepped closer, the towel around his shoulders. He understood her question, but her hesitations annoyed him. "I…" Sarah gave up searching for clothes for him, for she knew she had none. She stood up, turning around and was surprised to find him so close to her.

Sensing her feelings and faking he hadn't noticed them, Jareth stepped backwards, sitting down on the floor to take off his shoes. Sarah watched him sit on the floor and take them off. Transfixed, her tongue loosened by itself. "Some of the songs really touched me and…"

Jareth turned his eyes back to her and Sarah fell speechless again. "You said…" Sarah wondered where was her great resolution she had taken earlier, when she had promised herself she would fight to keep him at least long enough to decipher what she needed, what she really needed from him. "I mean, you told me…" Sarah bit her lower lip, her eyes falling from his bewitching eyes to the white skin of his shoulders, to the strong arms and hands.

Jareth didn't miss her wandering eyes on his body and inwardly he smirked, like him, she couldn't help getting her eyes off him, drinking in his sight, like him in hers. "Yes?" He asked teasingly, as if he didn't know what she meant, standing up before her, making sure she didn't miss his chest and sinew arms. He turned to her, purposely turning his back to her bed, therefore, she would see it when she would look at him and she was going to look at him, he would make sure of that.

Sarah's breathing quickened. Jareth had pulled the towel off his shoulders and was wiping his chest of the remaining rain. "I mean… Do you…" The sight of his hands on his chest brought another memory to the front of her mind, she almost felt the velvet of his skin under her fingers.

Inwardly, Jareth smirked and he coyly asked her. "If you don't ask your question, Sarah, I can't answer to it. I'm not a mind-reader." His eyes twinkled and Sarah almost snapped at him.

"You know what I mean!" The rug was mocking her.

Sadly, Jareth smiled a last time, before answering her sincerely. "Actually, no." He knew what she meant for the songs and him, but he didn't understand the relation between them and her bringing him here. If it had been he and Sarah in his place, he would have left her at school.

Sarah stared at him, thunderstruck. He had swore not to lie, how couldn't she not believe him? "But, please, do enlighten me." His serious eyes settled on hers and for a moment, she held his gaze.

Then, without a word, she gently reached for one of his hands and pulling him after her, she made her way to her CD player. Still without a word, she turned it on and finally faced him, after that she had picked the song that she wanted. It was one of the songs that she had listened to the very morning, under Millibel's urge and she wanted to know, she wanted to understand, she wanted to verify if what she thought could be true.

Still with his bigger hand in hers, she locked her eyes with his, listening to his breathe, dreading what she would probably see in them.

The music took off, like a bird flying toward the skies. An intimate piece of piano solo at first, played almost absentmindedly, a soft melody in that dark corners of a bar, for the only satisfaction of a few. Then, his voice came and started slow, like a promise.

A day will come, you'll tell me I love you
From the tip of your heart, but say it anyway
A simple word and the confession of a tear at the tip of your eyes
Will make me a happy man

Sarah raised his hand against her heart, looking intently in his eyes, surveying his face. But his face was made of stone and he didn't even twitch an eyebrow at her choice of the songs. Rather, he looked like he was listening to his own song for the first time, his lips thin, his eyes hard set on her but she was certain he couldn't see her.

A day will come you'll know all these things
Which have made my life more black than pink
You'll understand all my decencies all these words that scare me
That I've hidden like a thief

It was because she was paying close attention that she saw something in his eyes flicker, otherwise, she would have missed it. It came and went quicker than a lightning falling outside. An acceptance, a wonder maybe, a curious glint, a quicksilver flame and Sarah was confused, wasn't he the writer of these lyrics?

The rain had quieted down for a while, but it was coming back stronger than before and Sarah still held his hand. She squeezed it a little and he finally turned his eyes to her, as if recognizing her suddenly and without a word, she stepped closer to him, taking off the wet towel of her hair with her free hand and throwing it on her sofa, till her head rested on his shoulder, her cheek on the smoothness of his skin.

She brought his hand, entwined with hers, against her mouth, while her free hand closed gripped some of his flesh, right under his right shoulder. Jareth let her do at her convenience and when she settled, he shifted his arms around her frame, burying his free hand in her tangled wet locks.

You, it's the skies who have sent you
To me to teach me to love again
Wait, let the days do, let the time to the time
And to love

Triggered by an untold word, Jareth led her through the dance their feet had so naturally taken up together. They hardly moved at all, more like staying where they were, swaying from a side to another very gently, very slowly.

Yet another dance they shared and Sarah couldn't help but wonder how long this truce would hold. Longer than the first, the time of the song… She couldn't tell, she didn't want to ponder upon either.

They danced quietly looking at each other without seeing the other one, each lost deeply in their own thoughts, but each of their thoughts turned to the other one. Jareth was as confused as she was over this text.

It was one of the songs he had labeled as 'inanity' since it was one of the songs he had feverishly written down, the words pouring out of his mind on the paper, like he was only the recipient through which the words conveyed to the paper. It happened during one of those nights he only had glimpses of. It happened during one of  those nights after her triumphant leave of his kingdom, those mad nights which had plagued him.

A day will come, you'll tell me I love you
From the tip of your eyes but say it anyway
In the sky of your gaze, read the desire and my victory
A day will come you'll love me

He actually remembered the night he had written those words down more vividly than any other nights, when he had been mad. He remembered crawling out of his bed, after ripping the bonds tying him to it, ropes Sariel and the old doctor had to place upon him.

He remembered thrashing, cursing and howling at them, demanding them to release him, while Iome silently waved spells after spells of silence on him, so that no one in the fortress would know what was happening to their King.

He could feel again the ropes cutting his flesh as he fought against them, he felt Millibel's tears, as she begged him to say put, to sleep, to forget and to let go. Then, both with Iome and Sariel on top of him to hold him as still as they could, Millibel had poured a bitter liquid in his mouth, all the while begging him to calm down. The liquid had set fire down his throat and triggered an explosion of light in his mind: they had sealed his magic away.

You, it's the skies who have sent you towards me
Who have never done anything but walk besides the core things
By defiance only to burn my wings

The song kept on, as Jareth reminisced: afterwards, when he had finally been too spent to do anything else but cry for them to release him, they had left him, Iome supporting Millibel as she sobbed violently against her shoulder, Sariel holding his bloody forearm he had placed forcibly in Jareth's mouth in order to prevent the latter to bite his tongue. Jareth, in pain, had bitten with all his strength when his magic was sealed and to this day, Sariel still bore its trace.

The old doctor, Edanial, shaking his head sadly from sides to sides, muttering in the language of healers, but what had pierced him, what had sent Jareth beyond the edge, what had sent a bolt of lightning through his veins and made him thrash against his bonds once more was Sariel.

He remembered Sariel standing in his doorframe, holding a tissue to his arm, as he had refused Edanial to heal it for him, as if he was punishing himself for something he had failed, Sariel looking at him, his gaze never leaving him, his eyes like secret doors to the past, like windows, as Sariel had been the only one to actually witness Sarah to best him at his own game. Sariel knew, as he had seen first hand what had happened, from both sides. During Sarah's time in the Labyrinth, whenever he was with her, he was also aware of Jareth and vice-versa. Sariel knew and it drove Jareth mad. His next memories of that fateful night were blurry and confused, mixed with reality were feverish hallucinations, but writing he knew he had done because Millibel had, in the following morning, came in while he slept and recorded his lyrics. Other than what, Jareth didn't know what had pushed him to write, he didn't want to know either.

A day will come you'll tell me I love you and I would love
Wait let the days do, let the time to the time and to
Love
A day will come you'll tell me I love and I would love you

During their dance, Sarah had felt Jareth's hands squeezed her several times but a look on his face the first time showed her he was deep in touch and was doing it unconsciously. Therefore, she said nothing as the song came closer to its end.

When the last note finally rang in the living-room, Sarah quickly pushed the stop button, taking the occasion to turn her back on Jareth. She didn't want to face him, she didn't want to fight him. But if she didn't, she realized, he would leave and she didn't want that either. Her decision had already been made and so biting her lip, her fingers trailing on the CD player, Sarah slowly turned to face Jareth.

He was waiting, standing his ground, he had known her moment of hesitation and had simply let her come to terms. His face was once more a mask of coldness and iron will. But a mask it was. She didn't know what was underneath, she only had glimpses of that, not enough for her to understand fully, but enough for her to long for it.

Squaring her little shoulders and raising her chins, Sarah asked, almost like she was defying him. "Then, what does it mean?"

Jareth's posture relaxed suddenly, and it alarmed her because it showed he didn't care, and a smile slowly crept on his lips. With a feline grace, he turned around and sat on her couch, his eyes glinting and shrugging, he said slowly, detaching each of the words as to make sure she understood each of them. "I honestly don't know." He was answering her defy.

Sarah was taken aback. She hadn't expected him to be as clueless as she was but awkward, in denial, embarrassed maybe. "What?" She croaked.

Jareth smirked and leaned back comfortably. "After you left the Labyrinth, I fell into a kind of illness." He explained, waving his right hand as if to dismiss an unimportant memory. He gracefully shrugged once more. "I can't recall what happened in days. I have glimpse of faces, my sister, Sariel, Iome or my old doctor, but only flashes of them, I remember throwing everything aside. This song is from that time and I don't know what it means." Then he smiled and Sarah thought that it was how a wolf would smile to a deer.

Something suddenly clicked in Sarah's mind, as she remembered something Millibel had told her. She had mentioned Jareth being ill, but more like a time he went mad, if she recalled it well. Sarah narrowed her eyes. "Really?"

Jareth's eyes grew suddenly dark and his smile as suddenly lost all its playful dimension. "Have I ever lied to you?" He asked darkly as he stood up.

Sarah followed him with her eyes as he stood up and said softly. "I've been told deception is a kind of lie too."

Jareth smirked once more and approached, like he was trying to impress her, to make her back away. "It's a matter of perception, then."

Sarah dismissed his last remark and focused her eyes on his. She drank in his sight as he walked to her and the words blurted out of her mouth without her realizing it. "Will you go out with me?"

Jareth stopped and this time it was his turn to be stunned. "What?"

Sarah finally realized the enormity of what she had just said and blushed redder than she ever had before. "I…" She spluttered and stammered, not knowing what to do, her eyes looking at her feet, trying to hide her face behind the wet curtain of her hair to no avail. "You're… When I…" Sarah was breathing so hard she was sure she would soon faint. "In that ballroom, I didn't understand what you meant… I…" She let her voice trail and an awkward silence fell on them until Jareth broke it.

"You were young and inexperienced, that much I learnt." Another long silence fell between them and neither moved. Sarah couldn't take it any longer and she looked up to him to see him watching her with guarding eyes, as if weighing each of her actions, as if he truly didn't understand what she meant.

"So, will you?" She asked in a husky voice, no looking in his eyes.

The silence this time was shorter than the first two, but it felt worse for Sarah. Jareth started to speak slowly, as if he was looking for his words, not knowing how to formulate his thought. "When a man and a woman aboveground date, aren't they suppose to feel something for each other, first?"

Quickly, Sarah looked up and asked. "You don't?" She advanced on him, gripping his hands tightly between her, searching his face for another glint.

Taken aback by her sudden gesture, Jareth blinked. "What?"

Sarah kept walking until Jareth was forced to step back if he didn't want Sarah to run into him. But as she pushed him against the sofa, Sarah asked him. "Feel something for me?"

Jareth's long legs encountered the couch but Sarah kept pushing and he fell on it, in a sitting position. "I do." He frowned at her. He was looking up at her, but hadn't seem to realize the change of location. "But, I don't think it's what…"

Sarah jumped on the couch next to him, bringing her knees under her chin and shrugged as she cut him. "It ok. I do too."

She had released his hands all of the sudden, so suddenly in fact, that Jareth didn't know what to do with his hands anymore. He surveyed her face intently but only found her blushing and avoiding his eyes in the small silence. "Why would I do that, then?" He asked softly.

Sarah's mouth fell open, like she hadn't thought about that and once more, she stammered. "I want…" She started, then stopped to start once more. "I want us to try again…" Her voice dropped an octave and Jareth had to lean forward to hear her. "Sunday morning, I felt so at peace and…" Sarah stood up suddenly and opened her arms, looking from left to right. "My apartment feels so empty since then." She made a small turn on herself, her face set in an almost painful expression. "You only spent like what? Barely a night here and you've already marked this place as yours and I can't stand being here without…" She didn't finish her sentence but it wasn't necessary. Jareth stood up but never made a move towards her. Finally, Sarah grumbled. "Besides, you were the one jealous."

Jareth raised an eyebrow. "But you're the one addicted."

Sarah's head shot up and she pouted at him, and frowning she challenged him. "Because you're not?"

"I don't see what you mean." Jareth wondered what the little minx was up to.

Sarah tensed visibly and let through her gritted teeth. She reminded Jareth of a cat gripping the curtains and letting itself fall down slowly tearing the curtains in its way, hissing all the way down. "Liar."

Jareth sighed. "Sarah, what did I say about lying?" But she didn't answer him and holding his gaze, she half-turned to push the CD player play button again. Without looking at it, she changed the song until she was satisfied and she stood like a statue next to the CD player, her hot gaze on him, burning with fury.

Kneeling like in prayer
Naked of dignity
Today well I love you
I love you, you won

When my eyes turn soft

And that they show you the ways
I need your belly
Under my hands and body

Jareth's eyes widened slightly and Sarah felt a burst of hope. Jareth, on the other hand, remembered that song. It was one of his oldest work, one he had written on a strange impulse, one day, way before he hadn't ever even heard of Sarah. But he couldn't tell her that, as he didn't know why he had written this. Millibel had smiled and said the song reflected his nature, but he had shook his head and shrugged, saying he didn't understand what she meant. She had laughed then, telling him that the day he would meet the woman he would want to spend the rest of his days with would understand and tell him what it meant.

Jareth had grumbled and rolled his mismatched eyes heavenward, eliciting more laughter on his sister's part and never brought the song up again, until Millibel had declared she wanted it to be in his CD.

I want to kill you out of love
And then die myself
As many times as you want
I want to kill you out of joy
To better chain you to me
I'm the wild you're the prey

Sarah stepped towards him and he let her come, unmoving. He narrowed his eyes, trying to recall the very day he had written the song, he remembered something weird had happened that day, something that had spooked him, making chill crept in his bone… The Seers. He remembered it now. He had been summoned to his father's Court to witness whatever nonsense, which had only cost him some of his time, and when he was leaving, crossing the Grand Hall, the Imperial Court slipping in front of him to let him through, the Seers had stepped in his way.

The Twelve had kept to themselves, like they had always done, but when he was leaving, at once, like one, they had blocked his way out for a few minutes, each of them intensely looking at him from behind their elaborate, golden rimmed masks. All, except the head of the Seers, as one again, bowed in front of him. The Seers to watch somebody intensely wasn't an uncommon thing, but for them to purposely show interest in somebody was a first. It started quite a commotion in the hall, everybody stopped talking at once and when the Seers bowed, even if the head didn't, a string of loud gaps could be heard and people started whispering, muttering among themselves quickly. The story even made round the Underground faster than fire would have through a dry bush.

Give and cry all you can
And from the depths of my body
To melt on this bank
Like the white bird of the north wind

It had been when coming home afterwards, that he had the impulse of writing the song down. He remembered he had already retired for bed, when he had felt the urge to write. He had never link the two things and still couldn't see a connection between them, but he started to wonder. The Seers never did something unnecessary, they had a purpose, they had something in mind. If only he could see what and if this song and Sarah were entwined in it. If she were, Jareth didn't know what he would do to the Seers… He really had no idea, but it promised to be bloody…

And feel against my lips
You heart beating under your naked skin
When the words give fever
And that the world no longer exists

I want to kill you out of love
And then die myself
As many times as you want
I want to kill you out of joy
To better chain you to me
I'm the wild you're the prey

The song stopped and Jareth and Sarah stood like adversaries, each at opposites ends of the living room. She didn't trust her voice to ask, as she feared him to answer he wasn't talking about her and he didn't know what to say. The silence remained as the rain finally quieted down. They had to do something, the couldn't stay like this forever, Jareth thought. Closing his eyes briefly, he took a deep breathe and when he opened them again, he focused his gaze on Sarah, who squirmed, uncomfortable under his decided gaze. "What do you want from me, Sarah?" He asked her very softly, but it wouldn't have frightened her more, if he had been yelling at her as she didn't know what she wanted. Her mind and heart were in such confusion: old feelings were kicking back, new ones were confused and lost, her heart looking at each and not knowing which meant which, nor could her mind settle with the enigma he represented.

One thing for sure, the only one, after all, she didn't him to go and leave like she had done the first time. She had left, sure in her heart he hated her, she had left sure in her heart she wouldn't see him again despite all her wishes, she had left her heart heavy with regrets... If something was to happen, Sarah suddenly decided, she didn't want to have any regrets. Any regrets at all.

So, it was in a calm voice that she answered, without looking too intensely in his eyes… She didn't want to see him laugh at her either "I don't know, but I know I don't want you to go."

She was sure he was going to say no, but he simply asked. "Wouldn't it be better for both of us if I simply left?"

Anger rose swiftly. "Better for whom?" She asked him hotly. "Not  for me, that much I know." The sight of her angry eyes and rosy cheeks because of her anger made Jareth smile.

He crossed the living room to stand next to her and took her gently in his arms. "Then, a secret between the two of us." He whispered in her ear. He didn't know why he was whispering, as they were alone, nor did he know why he was hugging her. He just wanted to feel her.

Sarah closed her own arms around him and whispered back, smiling. "A secret it is." She confirmed.

Something rang in his mind, like a bell, and Jareth suddenly remembered a piece of advice Millibel had once given him. "Jareth," she had said, dressed in a royal blue dress, her long blond hair falling on her lap, "try to be less impulsive. You are a King now, you should take your actions into consideration first." He was impulsive, he knew it. So, he added a quick precision to Sarah. Looking up, he said. "A secret truce."

Sarah stared up at him. He was looking away, ahead of her. Sarah sighed softly and whispered back, as she put her cheek against his chest again. "If it's what you want." And she couldn't help thinking that they had done three steps forward to back down two.

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They were talking like they always did. It had started on catching up the latest news, sometimes the work rubbed them off, even during their non-working time, but as they were both journalists, they didn't mind that peeking of their privacy. They hadn't seen each others in weeks, one being sent to old Europe for a whatever article the magazine had asked while the other had stayed and captured sensational news at home.

The first, the one coming back from Europe, was black-haired and had dark brown eyes, a quick smile and an easy manner. Bill, as it was his name, was sitting on his friend's, Lawrence or Larry for short, desk. They had been chatting about Bill's travel in Europe after work, both enjoying a coffee and a good laugh in Larry's office.

Larry was also a photograph and his latest picture had earned quite some cash. His glorious picture was framed against one of the white walls of  his small, but private, office. Bill walked to it in order to admire it and smirked as he studied it: it showed a tall fair-haired man, dressed in leather jacket and pants, his arms tightly wrapped around a shorter female, with long and luscious black hair. Bill half-turned to face Larry, sitting comfortably in his chair. "Hey, that's Bane's girlfriend?" He asked, smirking.

Larry raised his hot cup of coffee, as a salute and nodded. "Hot stuff, hey?" Larry was tall and had only skin and muscles on his bones. He had long red hair, tied in a ponytail and several earrings in several parts of his body.

Bill turned back to the picture, as he sipped on his coffee. If the weather hadn't been so bad, he and Larry would have certainly gone out to have a drink. Bill tried to guess the woman's form, but all that he could see, her long shapely legs, could only give him a guess of her upper body.  "Damn yes…" Larry's picture showed more the singer's face than his companion, but something struck home in Bill's mind. "Hey…"

Larry looked up. "What?"

Narrowing his eyes, Bill tried to se her better. He couldn't shook the feeling of familiarity with that woman, but he couldn't either place his finger on where he had seen her. He was sure he had talked to her but where and when were all the questions… "Do you have a better picture of her face?"

Immediately, Larry sat up straight and looked critically at his best friend. "You know her?" He asked suspiciously, placing his good old mug on his desk, near his latest work.

Still focused on the picture, Bill let his voice trail, deep in thought. "Not sure, but she seems familiar and I…"

Larry shook his head, as he turned to his desk and completed the sentence for Bill. "I know, I know, you never forget a face once you've seen it." They had known each other from University and Larry could bet that if he had earned a penny each time he had heard Bill say that, he would be richer than the richest man on earth.

Bill turned to Larry and grinned. "Come on, man, I know you got a better picture of her."

Larry grinned back: Bill knew him like the back of his hand, like he knew Bill like his. "Here." He handed Bill another picture of the couple that had been refused to be publish, even if the quality was better and if the couple's face were better seen. Larry mentally sighed: people wouldn't believe it was trued if the photo didn't have the feeling of being stolen. If it turned to be too clean for them, they would felt like it was a set-up and would discredit the paper.

Bill studied the woman's face: in this photo, she was speaking to the singer, her smile reaching her eyes. Larry had changed the angle of this one, so that the couple were bathed in light in this one, rather than the light outlining them in the dark, like in the first. Something clicked at the sight of her vivid green eyes in Bill's mind.  "A school." He whispered. Jon set his mug on Larry's desk, as he leaned against it once more.

Larry quickly stood up and peered down at the photo too. "What?"

Still focused on her face, Bill kept on. "I saw her at a school."

Larry narrowed his eyes and sighed loudly, making Bill raise his eyes to his friend. Larry shrugged at Bill, explaining. "The security around her is pretty tight. Bane's agent doesn't want us to know her name and I've been trying for hours to find her name till the boss came here and told me to lay it down, if I didn't want to lose my job." His tone turned bitter and Bill guessed the boss had done a little more than threaten and knowing the man, it had probably been loud too.

"Phew, tough." He whistled in sympathy.

Larry shrugged again and fell back in his chair, taking his coffee again. "Yeah, that guy must have quite some relations."

"Um…" Bill nodded and went back at gazing the photo, when he remembered. "Jack's school!" He exclaimed suddenly, surprising Larry who choked on his sip. "She's Jack's teacher!" Bill smiled hugely to his friend, talking quickly, like each time when he was excited. "I went to pick him up the other day, because Karla, my sister, his mother, got into the hospital."

Larry blinked and tried to recall when Karla, Bill's little sister, had her accident. He remembered Bill leaving the office in a hurry, looking completely lost, maybe three, probably four months before… "When she got her car accident?" Larry asked him.

Bill nodded enthusiastically. "Yeah. That's her, I'm sure of it." Proud, he set the photo down and picked up his coffee.

"What's her name?" Larry asked him.

Smiling like the Cheshire Cat, Bill answered.  "I remember it because her last name is my first name."

Larry looked at him, bewildered. "Bill?"

Bill grinned. Larry was so use at calling him by his nickname, that he didn't seem to remember 'Bill' was but a short cut for the name his mother had given him. "William." He corrected and turning his eyes to the woman, he whispered, his eyes glinting. "Sarah Williams."

Larry sighed. They had the information, but they couldn't do anything about it. He knew it, Bill knew it and the boss knew it. "What should we do?"

Bill turned his mischievous eyes on Larry and innocently suggested. "That guy must have an internet fan-club, no?" Bill took a sip of coffee to hide his smile but Larry caught it anyway and answered with a mischievous smile of his own.

"You naughty boy." He accused, as he turned his computer on.

Bill set his cup on the desk once more and leaned behind Larry, as the latter turned his computer on. "That's how you love me." He winked.

Larry rolled his eyes. "Asshole." All that was left to do, was to find Jareth Bane's fan-club website. A popular guy like him should have at least, one maybe two fan websites on the world wide web…

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that's all folk! Hope you liked it! I really put some thought in this story, so please tell me how much waste there is! I really wish I had arms big enough to hug you all against my heart.

The story is developing, slowly but surely (I even have the next 4 chapters planned on paper!!), so please, hang on with me!

mikim