Where have I been? In short, writing a lengthy original novella, applying to graduate school for writing (I got in!), working some loooong ass 12 hour days in preparation for a huge art show, dealing with some family issues and attending physical therapy for my busted up knee. And then if you've been watching Lost, you know that Charlie and Claire have become completely different characters this season . . . it's not exactly inspiring.

But I did not forget; did not even stop writing; just ran out of time for editing and posting. My thanks to Midasu for the nudge a few weeks back.

Part II: Entranced

By the time the trio reached the entrance, stories had been told, introductions had been made, throats had been choked and catfights (somewhat) prevented. Charlie walked between Claire and Sarah to keep the peace, although he felt like wringing Sarah's throat himself. Claire had gone into one of her silent moods, her hands crossed firmly over her chest, her teeth biting hard into her lower lip to keep from strangling Sarah. Charlie had been a bit more forgiving. Although not by much.

"And this Jareth person . . . the old Goblin King . . . he's a friend of yours?"

Sarah paused. "Not exactly Charlie. I uhm, I'm the only person who ever defeated him."

Charlie snorted. "Right, so, let me get this straight: you're the one who put him on the dole and you think he's just going to forget about that and use his magic powers to save us all?"

"It's more complicated than that. He—he liked me. And I didn't think it was that big a deal to defeat him. I mean—it was a game to him. It was like a game to me, too." Sarah stopped just before the entrance, swatting a fairy out of the way as it landed on her arm. Was Hoggle still in charge of keeping the fairy population down? Or had her win against Jareth also forced her Underground friends to leave their homes?

"Charlie," Claire said, stopping to kneel down and peer at a cluster of fairies gathered around something. "Look, it's a bunch of little people."

"Don't touch them," Sarah warned. "They're nasty little creatures."

Charlie moved his head from side to side over the fairies, trying to get a look at what they were all so interested in. "I don't think—" he started, and bit his tongue as he saw what he could only assume was lunch—a dead squirrel. For all their delicate looks the fairies were chowing down hard, each covered in blood and fur. He took Claire's arm as she stood and turned towards Sarah.

"They're even worse than I remember them," she said softly, confused. "Last time I was here, they were just pretty things that bit, but now . . ."

"You obviously didn't see them at feeding time," Charlie said.

Sarah stood in front of the closed entrance. She walked towards the doors, hoping silently that they would just open up for her, and when they did not she threw herself at them, pushing with all her might.

"No good you doing that," a little familiar voice said. Sarah turned and saw a small blue haired worm sticking out of the side of the wall. Her face brightened.

"It's you!" she exclaimed. She knelt and reached out a hand to pat the creature on the head. "Do you remember me?"

The worm chuckled. "'Course I do. You're the one that beat Jareth, even with taking the wrong path and everything."

Claire and Charlie cautiously stood a few feet away. Claire whispered to Charlie. "Is she talking to a worm?"

"She's not only talking to a worm, love, she's talking to an English worm," he murmured, staring at the small, beady-eyed creature.

Sarah looked back at the entrance. "How can we get in? The doors just opened for me last time."

He nodded. "'Course they opened for you, love. You were the one coming after the baby, after all."

She turned to look at Claire and Charlie a few feet away. "Claire, walk towards the doors," she called. "The worm says they'll only open for whomever's coming after the baby."

Charlie stalked up to her. "Wait one bloody minute here, Sarah. You are the one who wished Aaron away, and you are going to help us go after him and find him."

The worm brightened considerably at Charlie's presence. "'Ello!" he said cheerfully. "Always good to see a fellow Englishman!"

The wind taken out of his sails, Charlie glanced down at the irritatingly cheerful worm. "Er, hello there."

"As I was saying, love, the only one who can open the doors is the one who's going after the baby," the worm said, nodding his head at Claire. "So if she's going after the baby, she needs to go to the doors and they'll open for her."

Claire walked up to the doors and they began to slowly fold inwards. She stood in the entranceway looking expectantly at Charlie.

"Uh, nice making your acquaintance," he said to the worm. He grabbed Sarah's wrist and hauled her away towards the entrance.

"Goodbye again!" she called, waving. The worm shook its head in what seemed like a cheerful manner and then the doors swung shut behind them.

In fact, the worm was shaking its head in dismay. He turned and went back into his hole in the wall, where the missus was arranging dinner. "Guess who I saw, mother?"

The missus turned her head and smiled at him. "Who, love?"

"That girl—the one who beat Jareth last time."

"Ooh, truly?" she perked up.

"Yes, she was here again looking for a baby."

Missus turned her head back to the large green salad she was arranging. "Another baby? Would have thought she'd learned her lesson after the last mess." She picked up a bottle of crumbled fairy wings in her teeth and shook them over the salad.

"Well, she did win last time," her husband said, settling himself down at their kitchen table. Missus set the bottle back down and picked up the salad platter instead. She seated herself down across from her husband.

"Did you tell her about the path to the castle this time, Murray?"

He shook his head and lashed out a tongue to pick up some of the crumbled fairy wings. Missus gave him a look that clearly said that although this behavior was unacceptable she was willing to tolerate it for the good of the conversation. "I tried to tell her, but she ran off again before I could finish."

She shrugged and daintily took a bite of the salad. "That's mortals for you, love. Always rushing. You'd think they want time to go faster."

What do you think, sirs?