A/N- Yay I did it. I realize there are a lot of different ways I could take this chapter...but one scene kept coming back to me, and I just needed to write it. I wanted something heartwarming for the holidays, so...I hope you like it.
Night of a Thousand Deaths: Yule
Hanging some garland (just like in the book)
while dropping glass bulbs —oh shit, where's that hook?
Precariously untangling glow lights on strings
—these were poor Sarah's least favorite things.
Flocking the windows, but try not to wince.
Got that shit in her eye once —it ain't been right since.
Take a step back —OW FUCK— there's that hook.
But at least it looks pretty, only four hours it took…
Sarah grimaced as she pulled a narrow, wire hook out of her heel, casting curses on the stupid thing as she tossed it back into the box. With a rough sigh, she placed her hands on her hips and spanned her eyes from right to left as she admired her living room. It looked pretty good...one corner of it at least —Grrrr.
It'd taken her hours to dig out her decorations from storage and get even this far —though why she bothered at all, she didn't know. She hated decorating, and she lived alone so it wasn't like her anguish was, at the very least, providing sadistic entertainment for anyone else. She had no man. No roommate. No cat. Nuthin. For as much as the activity aggravated her, you'd think she'd be better off hanging a pine-scented air freshener and calling it a day. Huh...maybe she was a masochist.
But alas, what did it matter? It was Christmas! after all, and, if Karen had taught her anything, it was that bright colors and shiny things were an absolute necessity when it came to putting oneself in a festive state of mind.
And a festive state of mind was something she needed, she'd determined. All the flash and fanfare was just barely enough to distract her from the fact that she was still….
No. No, she would not even finish the thought. She would not let an image of him slip into her mind again —fuck.
Nooopppe. Go away. Shoo. Fuck off. T'was the ninth day of Christmas, and she'd be damned if some fuckboi mullet-head ruined it for her.
To quote the greatest of grinches, even if she ended up horribly mangled —there'd be no sad faces on Christmas.
She growled to herself while dramatically twirling away. It was impossible to just walk like a normal person. For one, she was very aggressively trying to play lonely businesswoman meets holly-jolly housewife. And second, well, the mandatory orchestra of nonstop holiday cheer was going off in the background.
"Santa baby, babum babum babum bum bum bum…" she preemptively sang as a familiar tune started up. She bent over to rummage deeper into her box of decorations, and found her hips rocking in spite of herself —careless victims to the guile of sultry Eartha and her jovial band of rhythmic baritones.
Baboom
Baboom
Baboom
Baboom, boom, baboom
"Santa baby, just slip a sable under the tree —for me...Been an awful good girl. Santa baby...so hurry down the chimney tonight..."
A rhythm of woodwinds and low acapella carried Sarah across her living room floor, bouncing on air with a string of garland she pretended was a feather boa as she shuffled her shoulders to seduce her own shadow. Seasonal angst aside, she loved this song. It was just too flirty. She swayed in a circle and threw herself a wink in a nearby mirror.
"Santa baby, a fifty-four convertible too —light blue. I'll wait up for you dear. Santa baby…"
She closed her eyes and hummed the rest, her fingers moving in time to Miss Kitt and a leisurely drop of clarinets. The music, resonating from the next room, took on an echo as it reverberated throughout her apartment.
She twirled a playful hand in the air as she peeped open an eye to sing to herself in the mirror.
"—Think of all the fun I've missed. Think of all the fellas that I haven't kissed—" She blew herself a kiss and twirled away. "Next year I could be as good, if-you'll-check-off-my-Christ-mas list."
Baboom baboom—
"Santa baby—"
She was smiling like a sexy little git as she untwisted herself from the garland and hung it on her tree, then danced her way back to the box to pull out some knick knacks fit to sit on her windowsill. She held up a tiny ceramic house and peered through the windows. Wait, was this door apposable? How had she never noticed that?
She jolted when the phone rang. Sarah ceased her investigating and ran into the bedroom to turn down the music. —Sorry Eartha, we'll have to schmooze that jolly old elf another day.
The phone was on its fourth ring by the time she finally made it to the kitchen and jerked it off its hook. She looked downward at the screen and fought off a little cringe. Of course. Karen.
"Hello?"
"Hello Sarah? It's Karen—"
"Yeah, I know. I've got caller ID, remember?" Sarah said, leaning against her fridge as she shook her head.
"Oh, of course. I always forget. I keep telling your father we need to modernize…"
"You think?" Sarah said with a scoff. "It's only been around for a good ten years now. But good luck with that." She turned to slump on a shoulder as she scrutinized her living room. Those felt reindeer might look good on the wall over there… "He still has his rotary phone in his office, doesn't he?"
Karen laughed.
"Heh, oh yes he does...do not even get me started on that," she said, then trailed off in a different direction. "I'm sorry to bother you, dear. I'm sure you're busy, but do you have a minute?"
Sarah stood and paced out of the kitchen.
"Yeah, I was just decorating. What's up?"
"Oh how fun. Did you use the window stickers I sent you?"
Sarah paused before she replied, eyeing said god-awful cling-ons (still in their packaging) poking out from the rim of her box. Who the hell had designed those things anyway? The looks on their faces were something out of a horror movie. She'd never before realized it was possible for a snowman to rise from the depths of hell. Every time she looked at them she couldn't stop herself from thinking Heeerrreee's Frosty!
Eh….
"...Yes," Sarah said, rolling her eyes away. "What do you need? Is every alright?" she asked, changing the topic before Karen could demand a picture.
"Of course. Oh yes. No, I just wanted to talk to you about the holidays. You're still coming up, right?"
Sarah walked around her coffee table and slouched back onto her couch.
"Yeah. I was able to use my vacation to get the whole week off, so...I was thinking of driving up on the twenty-third."
"Driving? Really? In winter? Oh I don't like that," Karen said, oh-so-worriedly. "You should really take a plane—"
"It's a four hour drive, Karen. I'm not buying a plane ticket this close to Christmas," Sarah replied, her eyes averting to the ceiling as she spoke. A teeny tiny pause preceded Karen's response.
"...Well alright. Just be careful. And don't be talking on that little flippy thing you've got."
"You mean my cellphone?" Sarah asked and laughed. "Jesus, Karen. You two really do need to modernize."
"I guess that's just what happens when you're old like us. Can't keep up with anything."
"Pff. You're not old. Just stubborn —in Dad's case."
"I appreciate the sympathy. Perhaps Santa will show me some mercy this year and pull the broom out of your father's ass—"
"Karen!" Sarah exclaimed, leaning forward in a show of shock. She heard Karen huff in that way of hers.
"Oh, I'm just teasing. He knows I love him. Anyway, what time can we expect you in, then? We're hosting the block party this year on Christmas eve—"
Sarah's brow flatlined, and she blinked very slowly.
"...Are you really?"
"Yes," Karen replied, then, after a momentary pause, seemed to pick up some of Sarah's thoughts through the phone line. "I thought you'd be excited," she said, but only endured another silence. Sarah heard the crackle of her readjusting the phone, and then she spoke up again. "Mrs. Jenson told me her son Henry is coming down," she said, suggestively, without nearly enough pleasantry to cover up the fact.
Sarah rolled her eyes as she fell back against the couch.
"Uh huh. Good for them," she said, then impulsively stood to her feet to pace around her living room. The number of times Karen had tried to set her up over the years was giving her something close to PTSD. Just the mere suggestion of it had her anxious and cringing. She could only imagine the show that was in store for her come Christmas Eve… "I should be down around noon that Tuesday, depending on the weather," she said, shifting topics. "I figured I'd leave Saturday —if that's alright."
"Well of course. You don't need permission to visit us, dear."
Karen was back to her typical cheer. Sarah picked at her mascara as she stared very intently into the mirror.
"So, what's Toby doing?"
"Oh, he's out with some friends. I...don't really know what they're up to, honestly. I saw him take out his sled, so...hopefully that."
Sarah drew back and arched a brow at the phone.
"Yeah, hopefully," said, then rubbed her nose as she sniffled.
Karen's immediate panic was as palpable as the static in their connection.
"What was that?" she quickly asked. "Do you have a cold?"
"Huh?" Sarah replied, not even realizing her own mannerism. She shook her head as she sniffled again. "No. I've just been a little congested lately. I think it's the humidity," she explained. Karen was silent for a very long second.
"Hm...well don't push it," she said with latent scrutiny. "I don't want any unnecessary germs at this party."
Sarah cocked a one-sided grin.
"I'm intrigued by which germs you consider necessary," she teased.
"Oh you know what I mean. I also don't want you keeling over into the eggnog—"
"Well you know me," she was quick to interrupt, her voice changing as her sinuses flared. She pinched her nose to fight off a sneeze. "That may very well happen anyway."
"Ha. Ha. So funny, Sarah," Karen said. "Please take some medicine anyway. It would be a real shame to—"
"Ah...AH-CHOO!"
Sarah bounced back and clutched the phone on reflex, but it wasn't in reaction to the sneeze. At least, not directly. No, she was shocked into stupefaction when the force of her dainty little achoo! was enough to barrel clear through the drywall and shoot out the other fucking side. The entire apartment quaked, leaving Sarah to stand in honest shock as she stared at her bed through a hole in the wall as large as her person. Her dresser, and the radio sitting on top of it, had been blown to bits —oh no, poor Eartha!
Sarah blinked a couple of times. Just blinked.
"Sarah?! What the hell was that?"
Bits of rumble continued to fall, puffs of insulation and the odd wire or two. Sarah did not respond.
"Sarah?!"
The second coming of Karen's fright was enough to pull her into the moment. Sarah shook her head rapidly as she took a step back. What. The. F—
"Ah...sorry Karen. It was nothing…" she said, stammering as she turned and looked every which way. What the fuck? Like, WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK?
She held the phone against her racing heart as she scampered over to inspect the damage. Jesus Christ. Yup. It was a hole alright. Should she tell the super? Did she have enough legs to spend on fixing it?
"Nothing? Sarah I feel like I just heard an explosion. What happened? Are you alright?" Karen's nervous chatter battered against her sternum. Sarah, staring wide-eyed, drew back from the wall and lifted the phone back to her ear.
"Wha?" she asked, then scowled. "Yeah. Yeah, no. I uh...I just sneezed and lost my balance —and fell into the bookshelf. A bunch of stuff fell on the floor. That's all," she explained, stupidly, but it was no worse than telling the truth. Surely she was in shock. Denial. Something. Otherwise she'd be losing her fucking shit. Did she really just sneeze a hole through the fucking wall? WHY? Did she get bit by a radioactive spider? Sleepwalk into a vat of unnamed chemicals? Unknowingly have a close encounter of the fourth kind?
Oh. …wait a minute.
"Well, my goodness. That was one powerful sneeze—" Karen said, none the wiser. Sarah, wading through some very serious disillusionment, turned away from the wall as she focused on keeping her shit together. A well of anxiety was starting to bubble now. Maybe it was finally hitting her. Right there. In the gut.
She clutched a hand across her abdomen as she smiled widely for who knows what fucking reason.
"Yeaaahh...listen, Karen, I'm gonna go clean this up. I'll call you closer to Christmas, okay?" she asked, hurriedly. The feeling was getting worse now. Way worse.
"Oh, okay. Have fun decorating, darling. And please, be more careful next time—"
"I will. Bye."
Sarah pressed the end call button and practically threw her phone across the room. Holy fucking shit. This was real? Did banging Jareth give her superpowers? A magical STD? What?!
Her brain was running a million miles a minute. Maybe she was panicking. She must have been, because all the while her most prevalent thought was where the hell all her neighbors were and why no one had yet come banging on her door out of dutiful concern for her wellbeing. —those fucking assholes.
In a state of extreme confusion, she ran over to the mirror and started pulling at her face. Nope. No bleeding from the nose or ears. No spontaneous brain hemorrhaging. Her skin hadn't turned purple, nor were her eyes glowing. Welp, she could scratch superhero off the list of probabilities. Which could only mean—
Oh God.
Sarah slapped a hand to her mouth and ran, as fast as her feet could take her, straight into the bathroom.
She made it just in time, practically slamming herself against the bathtub as she slid across the tile and dropped before puking her nervous guts and half an apple pie she'd called lunch clear out.
After a very laborious minute, her stomach settled. She caught her breath. She closed her eyes and thumped her forehead against the toilet seat. Holy shit, that was rough. She felt like she'd just been hit by a fucking freight train —and then her brain caught up.
Just hang on there one flying second.
—Congestion
—Nausea
—Explosive sneezes that could only be magical in nature arising nearly two months after the probable incident—
…..
Uh oh.
Shit.
Two weeks later…
Sarah tapped a candy cane striped nail against her glass, slowly sipping on cider as her eyes slanted to the side. Her parents' dining room was all around merry, putting her whole apartment to shame with the ostentatious and undeniably expensive vomit of faux pine and polyvinyl garland that Karen had previously deemed lackluster but sufficient. She'd never seen glitter come in so many forms —which was saying something. It came in finishes of metallic, mirror, and matte. It came on ribbons and placemats, and on that one absolutely terrifying stuffed Santa over there on the mantel. It was motion-censored, calling out a jarring ho ho ho to every unsuspecting schlub who passed by it too closely. It was entertaining to watch them all jump at first, but now it would not stop staring. Gazing across the room at her with those cold, black eyes...
"I can't believe how long it's been. Got to be...what, almost ten years I think?"
The man called Henry was there as foretold, prompted into this awkward-ass icebreaker at the behest of both mothers. For his sake, Sarah tried not to come off too shrill. They'd been shoved in a fucking corner like a couple of show dogs. Goddammit Karen...
"Yeah. Since high school. How have you been?" she asked, averting her eyes from the doorway to the kitchen and the puff of red hair that was most definitely not Karen spying on them from it.
"Oh, you know. Livin' life. Can't complain…"
"Uh huh…"
Karen should smack her. She was being rude and she knew it. There was nothing wrong with Henry. He'd aged well. Was kind. And single, apparently. Still, she didn't care. He could have been Prince Charming and she wouldn't have noticed. She had far more pressing matters on her mind.
Like the fucking hole that was still in her wall. Aside from the cautionary tape (left over from Halloween) she'd placed across it, there was little else to be done. She was too afraid to tell her building manager what had happened —or rather show him. She had absolutely no idea what to tell him. Two weeks had gone by and she still had yet to come up with a cover that was even halfway believable. But that wasn't the main concern. Really, she just didn't want to get kicked out for causing so much damage. She'd decided to pay for the repairs herself on the down low after Christmas...when she got paid.
For now, she had a lovely little window to look into. At least she had a reminder to wake up to every morning lest she forget the even more pressing fact….
That she was pregnant.
She closed her eyes to suppress the cringe such a thought provoked, and gripped her glass a little tighter. She'd completely given up on her conversation with Henry. Why the fuck was he still talking?
"My mother mentioned you work as an accountant. You were always good with numbers. Are you independent or with a firm?"
Sarah crossed her arms.
"With a firm. Not sure I have the ambition to go solo," she said, now peering off in the opposite direction. Festive music was playing loudly from the family room. A familiar Baboom, Boom, Baboom. Oh good. Looks like Eartha survived after all. At least there was that.
A part of her questioned whether or not it was responsible for her to even be here. Turns out, that pivotal, all-mighty sneeze was just the tip of a very complicated and terrifying iceberg…
So she was knocked up. Cool. But she wasn't just knocked up. No, she was knocked up with a magical demi-god that seemed to be having its wicked little way with her physiology. In addition to the typical hell that was first trimester morning sickness, Sarah found herself repeatedly treated to the delightful surprise of what she could only assume was morning sickness faerie style.
Weird shit was happening, and it was happening a lot. An impatient growl would result in a blown fuse. A particular craving would end up with pastries raining down into her lap. The careless thought, I hate Mondays, had put Sunday on repeat for three days straight —that shit was not normal. And it was only getting worse.
And while the puppy she'd inadvertently poofed into existence for a random wish-maker on the street was indeed heartwarming, these were powers she could not in any way control. While nothing as destructive as that sneeze had happened since, she knew it was probably only a matter of time.
And yet here she was, surrounded by (for the most part) innocents. Inserting her ticking time bomb of a womb into a fray of extended relatives and good-natured neighbors. Who were these people? she caught herself thinking. Why were they greeting her like she knew them and slapping her warmly on the back? Don't fucking touch me, was the thought of the day. One wrong twitch and she might turn the whole house up...
Despite all this and her disturbing lack of caution, a part of her still found it hard to believe. The day she'd bought that pregnancy test, she hadn't actually thought it would turn out positive. Never before would she have predicted to be praying for an STD instead. But alas, something must have clicked. There must have been just enough in common between their two species to turn that little minus into a plus. *Shudder*
She'd tried her best not to panic. She was successful enough to support a family, and she was getting to that age where such things were starting to matter to her. So no, it wasn't the bundle of joy itself that sent her reeling, but rather...its father.
She didn't know what to do. Should she summon him? He deserved to at least know, didn't he? What would happen then? Would they co-parent across worlds? Would he take responsibility and make her his bride? Was that something she even wanted? Or would he abandon them? Refuse to acknowledge his bastard and never be seen again?
And those were only the best case scenarios.
By day three she was really starting to lose it. She thought less about who he was and more about what he was. She'd turned her apartment into a nest of conspiracy, littering her living room with research on all things fae. The truth of the matter was that she really didn't know Jareth. Like, at all. Sure, he was dashing enough to fuck, but…
This rabbit hole was not a good one, as every new reference she found painted his kind more and more sinister. Sir Orfeo, Rumpelstiltskin, Erlkönig? Why the hell were they so obsessed with stealing people?!
She'd tried to make the argument that these were just stories, but her own past with Jareth didn't exactly refute them. He had taken her brother. He had tried to beguile her into staying behind…
Maybe Halloween was a fluke. Maybe he was more malevolent than she'd ever realized.
She'd very quickly decided not to tell him. It wasn't worth the risk. What if he went all medieval and demanded the child? What if he tried to steal it away from her or kidnap them both to live in the Underground?
She just didn't know him well enough to give him the benefit of the doubt…
Or so she thought.
Turns out, her situation was a bit more complicated than that. In only two weeks her symptoms had gone from weird, to worrying, to possibly volatile. She couldn't handle it, and was honestly concerned for the wellbeing of herself and others should it continue to escalate.
She may not want to, but she needed to tell him. She needed his help. At least...that's what she told herself.
"Yeah, I've been working as a consultant for AVI —you know, the tech company? It's kind of boring, but the pay is good so I can't complain…"
Sarah scowled as she tuned back into Henry and his subtle flex. He didn't seem to actually be noticing her, which was of course typical. He was kind of an ass in high school.
She looked up and remarked, with bitterness, the fact that he was not blond.
God, why was this not easy? Why could she not just resolve herself and forget about him? She was scared, but she couldn't have been that scared. If she truly thought he would do something evil...she wouldn't want to see him so badly.
Maybe she should just terminate it. Bypass all this angst and get on with life…
"Hey, I'm gonna get more eggnog. You want some?"
Sarah blinked back to attention and forced a smile.
"Sure. Thanks," she said, staring on distractedly when he walked away from her out into the kitchen. She sighed once he was gone. Finally.
Without a second glance, she set her glass down on a windowsill and headed straight for the basement.
She was careful to make sure no one saw her before opening the door. The party was in full swing, reaching that time of happy revelry when no one would notice she was gone. Except Henry maybe. Oh well. She had plenty of cousins floating around.
She closed the door behind her and latched or clicked all three of its locks. Her father had set up something of a panic room down there, so she was confident no merry go-getters would interrupt. She had spells to cast —and on Christmas Eve, no less. Gee, how awkward would that be?
She descended the stairs and flicked on the lights. The sounds of the party above her were well muted, but provided a low muffled ambiance that she was actually thankful for. Dead silence would be unnerving.
It would have probably been better to do this at her own apartment, she thought, but that's what happens when you wait until the very last minute. Oh well. It would be fine…
She looked up to give the door and all its locks a double take.
Despite being used mainly for storage, the basement was in fact finished. It had a couch and a coffee table, her old tv, and a bar her dad would dust off that one time a year he actually had friends over.
Currently, it was an apocalypse of Christmas mayhem —everything Karen didn't like this year or didn't have room for being arbitrarily tossed into the void. There were boxes stacked everywhere, sporting the odd corpse of a Santa or his elves peeking out here or there.
She turned a few of their soulless faces away as she walked around the couch.
She'd done most of her prep work earlier that day, although all that really consisted of was deciding where precisely she wanted him to appear and then move the coffee table out of the way.
One of the books she'd found seemed pretty reputable. It had details on all the little tricks to summoning a fae. She hoped it wasn't bullshit.
With a sigh, she picked up the container of salt she'd snuck down there earlier and turned in a circle as she poured. And there it was. Wow. That looked pretty damn geometric. You got this, girl.
She set the salt back down on the coffee table as she stepped out of the circle, then walked over to her bag which she'd left on the couch.
She rummaged through it and pulled out a necklace. But oh, t'was not just any necklace. No, t'was her one and only keepsake. Her trophy. His cornerstone.
She often wondered if Jareth realized she was still wearing his pendant when he left her that day. Wondered if maybe he did and wanted her to have it. That would've been nice, she thought. Romantic.
Her thumbs stroked over the metal as she stared vacantly at it. The book said she needed something to anchor him to. Something connected to him. She didn't have anything else, so she figured this would do. She was reluctant to set it down however. This was hers now...she hated to give it back.
Still, if that was the way it was done, then so it must be. She set the necklace down in the center of the ring, then moved back a healthy distance.
The party carried on without her as desired, but every time the sound of footsteps would bound or creak overhead, she couldn't help but grow more nervous. There were a lot of unsuspecting people up there… This was a bad idea.
She really hoped this wasn't a bad idea.
With one more sigh, Sarah knotted her fingers and glanced downward, wincing as she uttered the words, "I wish Jareth, the Goblin King, would take back his pendant. Right now."
She had to be specific. She had to give cause for him to appear directly in the circle. Her eyes closed tightly as she waited. Braced. Wondered if this would really work or if she was about to make a huge fool of herself.
He probably won't appreciate being trapped….her mind muttered —way too fucking late. By the time that dawned on her, she heard the sound of a boot scraping against the floor.
Sarah opened her eyes to the sight of Jareth looking around from one side of the room to the other.
Holy shit. It worked? He was here? Just like that?
Her mouth went dry as she stared at him, all kinds of angst wrestling for dominance within her. He looked good. Really fucking good —king of his own parade kind of good.
He was notably festive, wearing colors of indigo, white and silver. His shirt was the darkest of blues, his pants a slate grey. His coat was white with blue accents, and shimmered with white jewels and silver tinsel. Only half his hair was pulled back this time, looking so sleek and pale as it draped over each shoulder. A few messy tendrils fell over his forehead, which brought her round to his eyes and the glittering brow he was currently arching at her.
He looked surprised to see her. Hell, she looked down right shocked.
"Twice in one year?" he asked, with a grin that curled so devilishly. Then he angled his head down at her in amusement. "Now you're just getting clingy."
Sarah was speechless. She had no tongue. She had no heart either, that is until it saw fit to resume beating and pounded intensely to catch back up. She licked her lips but could only stand there. He was in the ring. Would it work?
Jareth's expression, the picture of delight, flickered boldly down Sarah's front.
"My gods…" he said, then grimaced. "In the name of Beira, what are you wearing?"
Sarah blinked from her stupid gape and looked down over herself. Fuck. Of course he would disarm her by noting that right off the bat.
"It...it's an ugly sweater party," she said, uncertainly, as she crossed her arms very tightly over her chest.
Another one of Karen's gifts, that had been —a bright red and green striped sweater with a felt Christmas tree sewn to the front. It had a metallic yellow star and decorations made of actual pom poms. Not her most dignifying attire, she had to admit. And, honestly, from the way he'd immediately noticed and was now laughing at her, she would have by far preferred the catsuit.
Jareth's smile humbled as he took in her appearance —along with the rosy blush currently consuming her face.
"How fun," he said, baitingly. Sarah's hands gripped her biceps as she shifted uncomfortably. When her eyes finally turned his way, they looked a little sharp.
"You look very merry as well. Do your people celebrate Christmas too?"
She was trying to be stern but was melting in her socks. This feeling only worsened when he started laughing again.
Sarah's brow drew tightly together as she stared at him.
"Yule, darling," he said, and reached up to run a hand through his hair. "—and your lot took it from us."
Sarah gulped. Why was he so composed? Did he not know he was trapped? Did he not care? Was he not actually trapped at all?!
"I thought Christmas was the day Jesus was born?" she asked. Jareth's grin twitched.
"That's cute."
He shifted his stance and bumped a toe against the pendant, which caused him to then glance down at it. There was a pause. A heavy one. Sarah stared very intently as she watched one of his brows arch while tracing his eyes along the salt ring. He said nothing right away, but she picked up on a new tension about him as he bent down and picked up his necklace.
"Well, I see someone's been reading," he said, perfectly aloof. Sarah gulped again as he casually wound the cord of the pendant into a small circle and then pocketed it in his coat. "I thought your request was a little odd to begin with, but is there a reason why you've pulled me away from my own festivities to trap me here, Sarah?"
He looked up and locked onto her gaze. Sarah nibbled her lip nervously.
"Ah...yes. I...I need to talk to you—"
"And the ring is necessary, why?"
Sarah closed her mouth and frowned. She wasn't prepared for this. She was so fucking nervous. Jareth, contrarily, seemed totally fine. He sighed as he briefly glanced at the floor.
"You really are going to kill me, aren't you?" he asked.
"What?" Sarah said on impulse, her voice louder than she would have preferred. She stammered for bearings as she glanced away. "No. No I…" and she licked her lips once more. Jareth, closely observing these mannerisms all the while, subtly tilted his head as his expression became a bit more serious.
"You're looking very unsettled. Is something wrong?"
Sarah's eyes darted while her fingers knotted.
"I…"
Jareth watched her struggle, and then an edge formed in his eyes.
"Why did you call me here, Sarah?"
There was something commanding in the way he said that. Something stern and scolding and not what she fucking wanted right now. Goddamn, she was on the verge of panicking again. She only hoped she didn't blow something up—
"I'm um…" she started to say, then hunched her shoulders as she ran hand up and down one arm. "I'm sorry this is so random, but...the thing is...I'm pregnant."
She winced. Grimaced, really. Stood on pins and needles as the words passed from her to him. Their eyes remained locked. Jareth was silent. Deathly silent.
"...is it mine?"
Whatever fucking tension Sarah thought she was feeling was blown clean away —if not by that comment, then definitely by his asinine sneer. He drew back like he was confused. Like he didn't believe her. Sarah gaped for a hot second. Is he fucking serious right now?
"What?" she asked with a raised voice. "No, it's Joe the milkman's. Of course it's fucking yours! Why the hell would I summon you otherwise?" she practically yelled at him. She threw her arms up and huffed, shaking her head in disbelief. Jareth was silent again. Just staring at her. It was awkward. She got defensive. "What, do you have no other response?" she asked, and re-crossed her arms as she turned to the side. "I say, you don't look particularly surprised. Do you get this kind of news often?"
There was ridicule in those words. That, and fear.
Jareth stood straighter as he exhaled very slowly.
"Oh, believe me, I'm surprised."
His voice was soft. Low. Sarah's eyes veered back to him but found his steeled expression impossible to read.
"I...I don't know what to do," she said, turning back to face him as a tiny flare of desperation seeped through. "I wasn't going to call you here, but...weird shit has been happening." And she flailed her arms out in a fluster. "I've been having, like...magic morning sickness or something. I don't know. I'm conjuring things, granting wishes, altering the space/time continuum. Is that normal?" Her eyes were wide with a plea when she impulsively looked straight at him. That sense of transparency recoiled, however, when she saw his look had not changed a bit. Her brow slowly turned down as she said, "I don't know how to control it, and I'm worried what might happen if it keeps getting worse. So...so why aren't you saying anything?"
He looked angry. Was he angry? Was this the precipice of the shit show she'd been dreading? He had yet to make a move. Didn't even bother to try escaping the salt ring. Did that mean he was really trapped?
Jareth's stare on her was as sharp as a knife as he said, "You need to come with me."
"What?" Sarah asked and drew back. "Where?"
"Where do you think? To the Underground," he said. Sarah scowled as she nibbled her lips. So he'd made his decision then? Just like that?
"Wh-no. Why?"
Jareth breathed in through his nose and broke eye contact, glancing to the side as he said, "You just said you can't handle the outbursts —which will likely only increase in severity by the way—" and he turned his gaze shrewdly back to her. "I cannot stay in this world for long periods of time. You need to come with me."
He sounded imperative, but she couldn't trust it. She looked at him very worriedly as she asked,
"And then what?"
"Then I help you manage your pregnancy and ensure you can safely give birth."
Sarah's brow slowly drew again, getting the sense her fears were about to be validated.
"...then what?" she repeated. Questions that did not need to be spoken were carried on the tether of their locked stares. Jareth hesitated to respond. Sarah's jaw clenched. "That pause is exactly why you're in the salt ring."
And that pause only continued to stretch. It became uncomfortable. Uncertain. Became everything Sarah had been dreading—
"How long," he asked, catching her off guard.
"What?"
"You've clearly been saving this meeting as a last resort," he said, with some distaste. "How long have you known you're carrying my child?"
If before she questioned, now she knew for sure. He was definitely angry. Very angry. Fuck.
"...two weeks."
She wasn't sure what reaction she was expecting, but she cowered nonetheless as she watched a figurative shade lower over him. He looked very serious now. Scary.
"You weren't going to tell me?" he asked, very calmly.
"I...I don't know."
"You don't think I have a right to know?"
"I do," Sarah said, fighting for confidence as she rooted her feet to the floor. "I just...Jareth I barely know you. You're from another dimension and you're not even human!" she cried out, biting down on her lip and placing a hand over her uneasy stomach as she inhaled sharply. "I've been doing a lot of research, and...your kind has a very terrifying track record when it comes to babies, so...please don't blame me for having some reservations…"
The naïve part of her hoped that would be enough to mollify him. She was actually a little afraid when she glanced over again to find him glaring.
"Let me out of this ring."
Oh no. That sounded bad. The tension in his lip and brow painted something bad. What was he planning on doing? Did he really expect her to listen?
"No," she said, then hugged herself. "'I'm sorry, but...I can't trust you." She glanced down at the floor as she mulled over a thought, wrangling up whatever last bits of courage she still had before speaking. "Listen Jareth...I'm fully prepared to raise it on my own. That would be better for you anyway, right? A half human bastard would be a stain on your reputation, wouldn't it? I just...need some guidance on all this magic stuff. That's it. And...you're right, you do deserve to know…"
Her eyes rolled away in what was probably shame, for even she could realize how much of an asshole she was being. Jareth, in full agreement it seemed, tightened a fist at his side as he stared at her.
"If that was your decision, then you should have never called me here in the first place. You really expect me to turn a blind eye to an heir of mine traipsing around in the human realm?"
Now that earned her attention. That sounded like a threat.
"You can't come here unless summoned," she said assuredly —but only to her own self. "I could just send you back Underground."
She didn't catch the little tick that moved the corner of his mouth.
"You're right. You can," he said, providing a false sense of security which she played right into. She crossed eyes with him once more, but this time could not look away. "But you've clearly underestimated just how often I'm brought to this plane," Jareth went on. "Even if you do send me away, I'll just come back time and again."
Sarah stared at him, really stared, but she had no idea what she saw. She had no idea what was truth and what was her own anxious projection. Jareth had told her he did not bluff, and now she believed him. This was not a threat but a promise. Though whether or not that promise was something sinister, she was incapable of discerning.
She hated the way he was looking at her. Hated how hard and how sharp he'd become. She knew this was going to be a mistake. Just like that night.
And yet, a part of her was relieved. A part of her couldn't help but be happy to see him. She wanted to come nearer, but she couldn't. She wanted to run up and throw herself in his arms, but—
Were these hormones? Was she just getting her wires crossed from being so riled up? Who the fuck knows. It really didn't matter, because she was not currently capable of doing anything about it. Her stomach was starting to feel queasy. She looked away from him and grimaced.
"Bringing you here was a mistake," she said, forcing back a sob. "Goddammit, I knew this was stupid—"
She hugged her abdomen tightly and pressed the back of her hand to her nose. She could feel her eyes welling up. Goddamn you, stupid body —just stop. There was no way she would be breaking down like this under normal circumstances. It had to be hormones. It had to be.
Jareth watched as a tremble moved through her shoulders. Watched her tense and angle herself away from him. He could feel his jaw tightening again.
"Sarah…"
"No. Please," she interrupted, halting him with an outstretched hand. "Just...I don't know what the fuck to do. I thought...I thought maybe you would be...oh but who the fuck am I kidding. We had a one night stand. That's it. God, I don't even know if you're married!" she rambled, suddenly deriding every potential positive way this may have ended. He could have ten wives for all she knew. Concubines and courtesans and the love of his life—
And she was shocked by how much she cared. She was shocked and appalled by how pathetic she was being. They had no relationship. They owed each other nothing. This whole situation was just one big inconvenience.
"Maybe I should just get rid of it," she ended up saying, with a low sense of resolve. "That would be best for the both of us—"
"Get rid of it?"
Sarah's head shot up at the snap in his voice. He looked impatient now. Frustratingly.
"Let me out of this ring, Sarah. Now."
He pointed a finger at the floor for emphasis, but it had no effect at all. So, the book wasn't wrong? She really was safe...
"No," she said much more calmly.
A war of wills filled the silence that followed. Jareth continued to stare at her, boring through the cracks in her bravado. She bit her cheek in response. She needed to stay tough.
His hand lowered to his side and fisted. But, rather than try to intimidate her with it, something about him shifted. His chest noticeably lifted as he breathed. The lock in his jaw became palpable. And his eyes, which once looked so angry, conveyed a plea of his own as his brow turned down.
He looked suddenly upset. And it was a change so visceral that Sarah just now realized it was something he'd been concealing all along.
He swallowed as his head tilted, and she saw the reflection of her own insecurity wrought all over him as he uttered the words, "Sarah...please."
Sarah hesitated. Her heart gave a pang. He spoke in beseech, spoke with compassion and patience. She didn't know what to do. He looked so raw —the shade pulled back.
She was determined not to fall for such a ploy. Determined to tug her heartstrings back into her own possession and turn away from him.
She could if she wanted to. She knew she was strong enough…
But she didn't want to. She was at a loss. She was confused and too far away from him. She didn't want to believe the stories. She wanted to believe in the man she'd connected with that night, the one who'd teased her, and touched her, and acted like he cared. She wanted the man who took her home and kissed her goodbye. The man who was now begging for her.
She carried herself very guardedly as she slowly approached, keeping her eyes lowered as she reached out with a toe and brushed some of the salt away. There was just...nothing else for it.
This could end very badly for her in only a moment or two. She knew that. Still, it didn't seem to matter. When the line was broken, she took a step back, hugging her arms as she waited for the ceiling to fall.
Sarah gasped in surprise when Jareth took a step forward, wrapped his arms fiercely around her, and pulled.
"J-Jareth?" she managed to say. Her body went stiff against him, but he only hugged her tighter. She felt their bodies molding, felt one of his hands cradle her head while the other wrapped around her back, felt his shoulders hunch as he bent down to press his face into her hair.
And she felt the hot breath of a sigh as he said, "It's going to be alright."
Sarah stared up at the ceiling. He was holding her too tightly to move. But that was fine. She probably would have gone limp with relief anyway. She saw her vision cloud as tears welled. She was getting emotional again. Dammit.
Jareth turned his head towards her and spoke softly into her ear.
"You're safe with me. I promise."
Sarah's hands, kept rigidly at her sides, slowly lifted to grip the lapels of his jacket. He smelled so good. Felt so warm and strong. It pissed her off that she'd missed it so much—
"If it means anything…" he went on, relaxing his grip but not letting go. "I'd like for you not to simply get rid of it." The tone of his voice was calm, smooth. It helped bring her down as he pulled away from her. She looked up into his eyes. He reached up to smooth away the frown from her brow. "Believe what you will, but I do not have any children. I...would rather not let the opportunity slip."
Contrary to his petting, Sarah only frowned harder.
"You won't try to stop me?"
She sounded suspicious. His gaze lowered down her face as his hand moved to her jaw.
"I could, but I would fail," he said. "While I can find ways of coming back to you, it would not be instantaneous. If you're determined to do this, you'd have plenty of time."
Sarah pulled back. Of all the possibilities she'd imagined, hearing that from him was never one.
"I never said that was what I wanted," she said, scowling to the side as she sorted through her emotions. Then her grip on his jacket flexed. "But I'm...I'm scared. Don't take this baby from me—"
"I won't."
"And don't kidnap me and force me to live Underground—"
"I can't."
"What?"
Sarah drew back even further this time, alarmed and confused and visibly outraged. Why was he so calm? Why the hell was he looking at her like that?
Jareth's stare passed through her as he reached up with both hands and cupped her face. It was like they were on two completely different pages.
"Why didn't you summon me?"
Sarah's mouth opened but she hesitated. What? Where the hell did that come from?
"I—I told you, I was scared. I—"
"Not that," Jareth said, shaking his head as his hands moved back towards the nape of her neck. "It's been nearly two months since Samhain. Why didn't you summon me?"
Confused all over again, this time Sarah drew back out of his embrace entirely.
"I...I didn't think you wanted me to," she said, then subconsciously raised a defensive hand between them. She didn't notice the twitch of confusion that moved across his brow. "You made everything seem so casual. No strings, remember? I...I didn't want to make a fool of myself by literally dragging you across dimensions just to...just to say hi. So I—"
She was cut off by the force of his hands pulling her back. Compelled into silence by the feeling of his mouth sealing over hers.
He kissed her. He held her there, on the precipice of an emotional breakdown, and kissed her.
Sarah winced, her brow twisting in a confusing mix of turmoil and comfort. She felt his fingers curling into her scalp. Felt his thumbs pressing into her cheeks. Felt his taste on her tongue and the heat of his breath as he exhaled roughly through his nose.
His eyes were closed in a scowl, prolonging the moment as long as he could.
She felt something pass between them in that kiss —and it wasn't anger, or malevolence, or malice. It was relief. Relief that they shared.
Eventually Jareth pulled back and pressed their foreheads together. Sarah's eyes scoured over what she could see of him intently, but his were still closed.
"For fifty-four nights I've felt like a fool."
"Wha-why?"
"How dare you make me wait so long," he said, ignoring her question as he pulled back to look her square in the eye. "Do not send me away." They stared at one another, Sarah's hands moving upward subconsciously as the light in his eyes turned hazy. His gaze lowered to her mouth, and he angled his head towards her as he whispered, "Kiss me."
Sarah's hands at his clavicles lightly pushed against him.
"When you passed through the veil...you said something to me, but I couldn't hear. What was it?"
Jareth paused. He blinked. But, before the moment could be ruined, he furrowed his brow and clawed his fingers in her hair.
"Gods, you're stubborn," he said, and pushed their faces together.
This time his kiss was less chaste. It was impatient. Demanding. She had to lean back against the force of it, wrapping a hand around the back of his neck for stability as she opened her mouth wide. Their tongues met and their lips molded. The sound of his breath —soft pants and a low rumble of yearning— stirred in her something totally unexpected.
She actually moaned, the kiss was so good —closing her eyes tightly as she let everything go for that one moment. She arched her body towards him, clutching him by the back of the shoulder as one of his arms moved to her lower back and squeezed her close.
This was it. This was all she'd wanted. Just a little more time to feel this way. To feel free. And loved. And wanted.
She grimaced as she kissed him, fighting off more stupid emotions as she clawed her way closer. It was like she was starving. Like she'd never realized just how empty she'd been feeling.
Jareth reached down and hoisted her up by the back of the thighs, and she hugged his hips with her knees. She was still kissing him, eyes screwed shut like she would die otherwise. His hands moved upward, groping her ass and feeling under her sweater as they splayed wide across her back. He turned them and sat her on the edge of the couch.
He knelt on the floor, angling his head sharply upward as he reluctantly pulled away from her lips. She was breathless already. Her eyes large and bright and beautiful. He stared straight into them as he carefully removed her fuzzy red socks.
Remembering the way he'd laughed at her appearance had her feeling suddenly embarrassed, which was something he must have picked up on. Once her feet were bare, he pressed his hands to her thighs and leaned forward, distracting her with another kiss.
This was a little strange. Last time it was like a battle trying to get him to kiss her. Every time she sensed some initial reluctance, even when he was too worked up to stop himself. But there was no reservation whatsoever this time around. She felt something more than lust from him. Something more than the weight of their situation. Maybe she was right. Maybe there was something genuine between them after all.
Jareth's hands undid the button on the fly of her jeans and deftly pulled them down.
Sarah leaned back against the couch and lifted her hips, assisting him as best she could. He shrugged out of his jacket and, as his hungry eyes peered up at her, she saw the corner of his mouth twitch in a little grin. Yet to forget her attire, Sarah glanced down at her sweater as a wave of mortification silently swept through. Was he really going to pick on her right now? Did he not realize how hormonal she was?!
Ne'er to be deterred, Jareth's eyes lowered over said god-awful tree to where his hands were now bunching up the hem. She spread her legs as he leaned in towards her, gradually lifting her sweater up and then off her. Thank God, she thought, wishing the thing would spontaneously combust as it was arbitrarily tossed to the floor.
Apparently she really meant it, because that was exactly what happened. A little fire went poof just beside the couch. Sarah instinctively panicked. Jareth laughed.
"Come now, it wasn't that bad," he said and, with a wave of his hand, put out the flames. Sarah settled down, but now found herself in a rather compromising position. She'd drawn up her legs, which now provided for him a very clear and wanton view of her more sensitive areas.
Jareth's hands gripped her legs then kissed the inside of her thigh as he spread them wider.
She watched him move, so slowly, up the inside of her thigh, making her squirm with anticipation the nearer he drew to her groin. He stopped at the tendon there, then slowly looked up with a very naughty look in his eye.
She gasped when he suddenly yanked her forward, bringing her tailbone to the very edge of the cushion as she planted her hands on either side of her for balance. His fingers creeped over the hem of her underwear, then maneuvered them down her legs in an achingly slow manner.
Her mouth was dry. Or maybe it was watering. She couldn't tell. She was too captivated by the Goblin King presently kneeling before her. She watched him as he pulled loose the cravat from his shirt, unwinding it at the same teasing pace. Next came his gloves. The cuffs unbuttoned with a snap before he tugged at the fingers with his teeth.
Hot damn. Was he trying to seduce her? Should she tell him the deed had been done some time ago?
His hands felt hot now that they were bare, moving back up her thighs and squeezing along the way. She swallowed and licked her lips, her toes curling as his head moved down and kissed the spot at the base of her thigh again.
He could feel a heat radiating from there. He closed his eyes to savor it.
She felt his tongue trace a path to her sex, the delicate feeling becoming more forceful as it trailed down her cleft. Sarah made a little noise, moving her hips as she bit on her lip. She watched his head angle to the side as he ran his tongue back up again.
He spread her a little more and murmured as the first taste of her graced his tongue. He was holding the underside of her thighs, keeping them spread, and his own eyes closed as he more aggressively split her with his tongue. He delved deeper, moving in and out, exploring her at his leisure as her knees started to shake.
Sarah arched her back and she moaned. Watching him pleasure her was erotic, seeing the pleasure the act gave him was even more so. She angled her head back against the couch as her hips rocked into him. The sensation wasn't overly intense, but it was enough. She closed her eyes as she focused on it.
She was too caught up to notice one of his hands leave her. She did, however, notice the two fingers that slid into her.
She moaned again. Braced against him as her breathing picked up. He'd filled her to the knuckles, keeping his fingers deep as they moved in little undulations. This new feeling was more stimulating than she'd expected. Enough so that a heat was building in her face and her legs were starting to squirm. She looked down at him again and was nearly undone then and there by the sharpness in his eyes as he stared up at her in return. He ran his tongue up her cleft and pressed it to her clit. She jolted from the feeling, but his free hand kept her firmly in place. He started moving his fingers faster now, pulling back and thrusting in harder.
Sarah gripped the couch cushions, vacantly wondering how the hell she'd gotten to this point. The party still raged above, echoed by the rumble of footsteps and occasional holler of joy. The music was playing louder too. She could just barely make out the beat of a rum pum pum pum.
Oh, what would her parents think? To walk in looking for that extra bottle of peppermint schnapps and catch her like this…
It was kind of thrilling actually. A teenage fantasy she regretted never having.
She watched him with hungry eyes which he readily obliged, opening his mouth wide while curling his tongue between her folds, pulling his fingers back to the tips before sliding in again —all for her viewing pleasure. It was getting her bothered. He wondered how far he could push her.
He moved his fingers faster. Curled them at the end of each thrust to hit that special spot. Sarah's body reacted instinctively, her posture slouching her down into the couch while her hips angled up. She braced the seat of the couch even tighter, spreading her legs as far as they could as she tilted her head back and moaned.
He was staring at her. Totally dazed by the shape of her mouth and the sweet sounds coming from it. She was such an attractive woman. Severe and relentlessly beautiful.
Impulse compelled him forward, catching her off guard when he was suddenly looming over her to capture that wanton mouth.
One of his knees sank into the couch cushion beside her, and —at the new angle— he palmed her clit while continuing to fuck her with his fingers. His free hand wound around the back of her neck and angled her forward into a kiss.
She moaned into his mouth. His lips were wet. Warm. Tasted like her. She let go of the couch and pressed her hands up his torso, pulling at his shirt before twining around the back of his neck.
Her hips rocked into his hand, but the tantalization of how close his body now was to hers sent her into a fit of impatience. She broke out of the kiss and nipped her way to his ear, tracing her tongue along the edge before tugging free the hem of his shirt and quickly pulling it over his head.
Her breath was heavy. Hot. It flared against his neck as she bit it. He angled his head back as he thrust his hand harder, murmuring in satisfaction at the way it sent her whole body jolting. She grabbed hold of his erection next, squeezing it hard and stroking him through his pants.
She was getting so wet. His hand was soaked. He toyed with the idea of making her come but was too distracted by the sound of her moans.
He'd never heard a sound so seductive. He yearned for it —and felt himself pulse in her hand.
Sarah managed to figure out the tie on his pants and quickly pushed them down. His cock fell into her hand, which she eagerly stroked while grabbing ahold of his ass with the other. God, he was hard. So velvety. So fucking good.
She imagined the moment he would finally fuck her, played it out vividly behind her eyes, and moaned.
Jareth braced the back of the couch, and his eyes screwed shut as he thrust his cock into her hand. It felt good. Too good. He could feel his shaft getting wet from the beads of precum she was spreading further down him with each pass.
Fifty-four nights he'd waited to feel her again. Each one worth far more than a thousand deaths. It was getting hard to control himself. No. He'd waited long enough.
He pulled back and latched onto her neck, biting and sucking until a mark was made. His tongue drew messy circles and then moved down, his free hand pulling at her bra strap as he sucked down to her breast.
She arched her back for him when he reached behind to unclasp her bra, quickly shimmying out of it before his hand splayed wide on the underside of her breast. He pushed it up toward his mouth, nipping all around before flicking his tongue over her nipple. She gasped, feeling it peak in reaction, and arched her back even more.
He took the bud between his teeth and bit, then sucked and pulled it back. Her thighs were hugging his hips. Her hand around his cock moving with more aggression. Lest he come then and there from the mere feel of her thumb pressing under the head, he pulled away, took her by the ass, and turned them around.
She settled astride him, lowering her pelvis until his shaft was wedged very firmly against her clit. He held her by the ass while she rocked her hips, grinding herself against him as her fingers clawed into his scalp.
Every churn of her hips angled his cock lower, spreading open her cunt as her fluids coated him. He groaned from the feel of it, from the heat and the pressure and the anticipation of how easy it would be to just turn his hips down one more inch and thrust himself fully inside of her.
But he didn't. She was too commanding. Her tongue curled deep into his mouth as she kissed him, as she pressed their bodies flush together too close to breathe.
His hands moved up her back, over her shoulders, back down her spine and around her ass again. She held him firmly by the neck as she lifted herself higher, seeming to feel the same sense of impatience he was. The head of his cock pressed between her folds, just barely kept in place by the subtle effort of her downward thrusts.
He turned his hips up into her on instinct. She was so ready. So wet. He could feel it moving down his shaft. Oh, how he wanted to take that plunge, but her breathy moans humming into his mouth kept him on the precipice.
She spread her legs a little wider, putting her weight into her knees as she fucked just the head, taking him in only an inch before pulling away. She could feel her insides clenching each time, becoming more and more desperate with every teasing pass.
She broke away from the kiss to breathe, angling her head down until their foreheads touched. Her eyes had closed. So had his. She moved her hips a little lower.
His cock throbbed at the sound of her gasp, hardening, and feeling so fucking swollen as she teased him. He was moving his hips now as well, meeting her halfway and pushing himself deeper.
This feeling consumed them, pulled them deeper together into a seed of lust as his cock penetrated her just a little bit more with each thrust. One of his hands hand splayed on her lower back, exuding a modicum of force that betrayed his anxious yearning for her.
Sarah opened her eyes as she sank lower, taking half of him into her as her mouth dropped open. Her expression was wilting. Was strained. Their cloudy eyes locked as she whimpered and pressed all the way down.
Jareth felt his back bow, inching him higher up in his seat as Sarah did the same. She took all of him now, right to the hilt, and the torrid constriction of her sweet little cunt had his fingers digging into the flesh of her ass.
She lifted and pressed down again, rocking her hips in a motion that had them both moaning. Their mouths hovered open closely together, hot breath mingling in the deathly small space.
He let her ride him at that aching pace, staring deeply into her eyes and losing himself in the wilderness of those irises. She was so beautiful. So savage. So very his.
His hands moved to clamp around her hips bones and pulled her sharply down as he thrust, brutally, up.
Sarah cried out, tensing her knees and hunching her shoulders from the surprise. Her hands moved to hold the back of the couch on either side of his head, bracing herself against the series of hard thrusts he shot into her.
Fuck— it was good. He was good. He was long, and hard, and knew exactly what he was doing. He guided her faster, fucking her with that same sense of conviction as before. She was on top, but his hold on her was dominating. The look in his eye calculated.
She was distracted by just how deeply he could go when he suddenly leaned forward.
She was forced to release the couch and hold him by the shoulders instead, staring up at the ceiling as he bit down on the crook of her neck. One hand moved up into his hair to hold him there, taking back some control as she aligned her movements with his.
She could hear him breathing heavily, panting in the effort to hold back a moan. That carnal sound did wicked things to her. She wanted more of it.
One of Jareth's hands pressed flat against her back while the other knotted in her hair, jerking and bowing her back so he could have better access to her breasts. The undulation of her body pushed them up into his face, becoming so tender with the need to be touched. He sucked on her nipples, and pushed her hips down before locking her in place, keeping himself rooted deep as he, so subtly, moved his cock inside her.
Her moans turned low and her face hot at this new angle. She couldn't escape it. Her neck was starting to strain against his grip. She was going to come from this—
In a flash Jareth let go and flipped her around, sitting her back on his dick as he pushed her shoulders forward. Sarah gasped as she fell, but thankfully the rim of the coffee table was just close enough to grab onto. She held onto it for all she was worth, doing nothing more than endure the pounding of Jareth's thrusts as he lifted her by the ass and pushed her onto each one.
"Fuck—" she heard him say, turning around as best she could to watch as he cast his head back. His brow furrowed tightly, the muscle in his jaw flexing as he watched, with such lust, the way his cock slid in and out of her.
That sight had her getting hot in the face again, turned on by the knowledge of the influence she had over him. He wanted her. He was coming undone because he wanted her—
Sarah felt herself being pulled once again, this time back against his chest as a hand wrapped around the front of her neck. Her back arched to accommodate the new angle, turning her hips back as he continued to fuck her just a little too deeply.
His free hand pressed against her stomach, and she turned her head to the side to face him.
The hand holding her neck spidered up her jaw, keeping her in an awkward, but necessary, position as he kissed her messily. He bit down on her lip. She curled her tongue around his teeth. His other hand lowered to press two fingers against her clit.
She shrieked into his mouth, writhing in that uncomfortable position as he played with her. Her legs started to shake. Her breath, coming sharply through her nose, quickened. He swallowed all of her moans as her cunt pulled him in deeper.
He could feel a discernable tension moving through her posture. Could feel her muscles spasming with the want for release. He resisted the urge to come alongside her and instead urged her to lay against the seat of the couch.
She was on her back now, but he kept her lower half turned to the side. Her body dipped as one of his knees sank into the couch cushion as he came to kneel above her. He was still inside. Still filling her so full. She reached back and grabbed the arm of the couch when he took hold of her sideways hips and jerked back.
She liked him at this angle. Liked the way the shadows cast themselves over his torso as he reared back. He was lean but fit, long fingered and narrow hipped. The veins in his hands stood more prominently as he pulled her to meet his thrusts, over and over. Watching the way his abdominals and pelvic V flexed was enough to unravel her all on their own.
Her mouth dropped open with dry lips, her stare on him ravenous and unblinking as a tight feeling deep in her abdomen was quick to peak.
A high pitched moan escaped her and her knees pressed together. He looked so focused. So enveloped. His chest rose high on labored breaths. His —once so carefully crafted— hair was now falling into disarray over his face.
Sarah's bowing back hit a perfect axis and she froze. He was keeping her there on purpose. Drawing out her orgasm as long as he could. He leaned over her, putting his weight into his hand as he gripped the arm of the couch just like she. They were near eye level now. Locked. Both entranced and falling deeper. Sarah's moans turned into falsetto cries when she—
THUMP THUMP THUMP.
The level of fright that plowed through Sarah had her nearly jumping clear off the couch. She was about to shriek. About to panic. About to come. Her eyes veered sharply upwards towards the door at the top of the stairwell, but, just before any reaction could give them away, Jareth's hand pressed firmly over her mouth.
He looked startled as well, but was much more composed. He froze mid-thrust, and silently turned to look back at the door.
"Huh? Is this locked? What the heck?" they heard a voice say. Sarah paled. Oh my God. KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK. "Hey, anybody in there?!"
The voice was a woman's —muffled and definitely drunk. Sarah started to scooch upright, but on reflex Jareth's arms locked and kept her where she was. She looked over at him and saw his chest was heaving —and he didn't look very happy either.
"Mary? What are you doing?" they heard next. Oh fuck. That was Karen. FACK.
"Trying to get into your bathroom," the woman, presumably named Mary, said. They heard Karen click her teeth.
"Well first of all, this is the basement. I told you the bathroom was over there."
"Huh? Basement? Ha. Guess that's why it's locked."
"It is?"
Uh oh. Sarah started to squirm again. If they opened the door, her stepmother would get a bird's eye view of their compromised (and highly inappropriate) state. Oh god. She hadn't felt this kind of terror since high school.
She was preemptively mortified, a feeling which rode alongside the panic that was steadily building at the fact that Jareth was idling with his dick still inside her and would not let her escape.
She felt his hand flex over her mouth, smothering her whimpers of protest, and watched his head slowly turn back towards her. His attention noticeably stayed on the door, however, even as he pulled back and gradually thrust forward once more.
Sarah's eyes widened. Was he— was he fucking serious right now?!
Sarah twitched at the jarring sound of Karen jangling the doorknob.
"Huh. So it is. Robert must have locked it. Guess he didn't want any of us lushes tripping down the stairs!"
Karen and her friend started to laugh. The sound was distorted, but still much too loud and too close to them for Sarah's liking. She was only feeling more and more on edge. And Jareth —fucking Jareth…
Satisfied they would not physically be interrupted, Jareth disregarded the remainder of their conversation and focused on fucking Sarah instead —their voices fading to no more than an ambient cluck in the background.
He moved slowly, carefully, drawing out to the tip before sliding back to the very base. Each slow thrust had her back arching high off the couch, hitting that special spot that she could have sworn was supposed to be more elusive.
But no. He'd learned all her spots months ago. He knew just what to do to get her to—
Sarah's eyes clenched tightly shut as she compulsively moaned into his hand. Her nerves were wracking through her, fear of exposure only amplifying the nuance of what he was doing to her. It was horrible. Mortifying. exhilarating. His fingers gripped around the side of her face as she squirmed, her eyes on his begging for mercy which he had absolutely no intention of giving her.
"Come on then, I'll show you where the actual bathroom is before you get too lost—"
Receding footsteps creaked along the floorboards, but Sarah was far too worked up to be relieved. Her attention was transfixed to his face —to his eyes and the vacant, yet desperate look he was giving her. His mouth dropped open. His whole body was moving with the rhythm of his hips. He'd forced his breathing to become silent. The constraint was just too much for her.
Sarah's hands sprang down to clutch his wrist as she twisted and screamed into his hand.
The orgasm hit her hard. Hit her immediately. Left her restless and wild. An impulsive moan escaped Jareth's mouth as he watched it unfurl, as he watched those eyes, with their heavy fanning lashes, wilt and melt and surrender gloriously.
After a long moment, she calmed down. She breathed heavily through her nose and the light came back to her eyes. Jareth had been so enraptured by it he'd never even noticed—
Sarah's eyes widened exponentially when she caught sight of all the forgotten Christmas decorations floating out of their boxes and into the air around them.
Seeing her look of alarm, Jareth glanced up...then sat back.
He released her face and turned to peer all around the room. To Sarah, being encroached on by a litany of moth-eaten Santa's and sinister jingle bells was enough to shatter the mood.
Oh, but not Jareth.
No, she was bewildered to find a smile of outright delight stretching across his face. He turned and looked down at her, oblivious to the nervous frown marring her face.
"That good, eh?" he asked teasingly. An immediate scowl twisted her face, but really it was a show of confusion. That was precisely the kind of weird shit she'd been so worried over. And yet to Jareth…
Jareth grinned like he was in such happy disbelief as he lifted a hand and snapped his fingers. And, just like that, every object drifted back to its proper place.
So effortless, she thought. Like it never happened. Maybe...maybe she actually was safe with him…
Jareth tilted his head as he finally acknowledged her look of concern. Gently, he pulled on one of her legs, turning her flat on her back so he could lay himself against her. Her hands went to his chest tentatively, while his cradled her head and smoothed the worry from the corners of her brow.
"Don't frown," he said, then kissed her tenderly. "You'll be just fine."
Oh no. Now he'd done it. Sarah could feel the trigger in her set off in reaction to that kind, endearing look. She felt tears welling in her eyes. Products of those same stupid hormones that had just turned up the whole basement.
Jareth exhaled through his nose as he closed his eyes and kissed her again. His hands held her face, his thumbs lightly brushing away the beaded tears at the corner of her eyes.
She felt overwrought. Anxious. Too fucking happy. It was hard to sort through. She only wanted him to keep kissing her.
He murmured in the back of his throat when his hips pressed forward. He was still hard. Still delved deep inside. Sarah hugged him with her legs and wound her hands tightly around his back.
This felt like before. That moment on the ottoman. This felt like feelings, only this time she didn't fight it. This time, she felt it coming from him as well. He gave himself. Closed his eyes. Held her close. Let everything else go but her.
And she devoured it. She devoured that sense of love and longing and patience which she had spent the last two months agonizing over. She didn't totally get it. Did it even make sense? She'd never quite felt such a strong pull towards another person before. Never felt so connected to or reliant on a single touch.
The crazy in her brain told her maybe she loved him. Maybe a one night stand was all it took. The crazy in her brain told her not to dare let him go. Not to be smart and stoic and cowardly. She thought herself stupid for getting caught up in this. Maybe that wasn't such a bad thing.
Jareth's hand at the crown of Sarah's head pulled at her hair, bracing as he angled his head down into her neck. His breath was heavy again, little moans escaping between pants. His free hand pinned her hip to the couch and, as his pace quickened, she felt him harden inside her to the point of steel. He was getting close —so was she.
Her nails drew lines down his back as she shrieked, pressing her pelvis up against his as she came again. Jareth groaned, fucked her harder, wrapped his arms under her and drew up a knee to get at that perfect angle.
The sound of his voice, low and hoarse, filled her ear as he followed suite, coming in her as deeply as he could force himself. His thrusts turned sharp, precise, and filled her to the brim as she took everything he had.
He didn't expect it to feel so satisfying. Didn't expect himself to be caught breathless. He felt suddenly exhausted. That had...never happened before.
They came down together gradually, caught up in each other and the plateau of euphoria they'd derived. He kissed her. She kissed him back. They laid together like that while the whole world passed by.
She was a little surprised when he pulled out of her, even more when he did not rearrange them and thrust back in. No, he only turned her on her side away from him as he laid down beside her. His arms moved around her, their fingers entwined as she held them close to her chest.
They were quiet for a moment. She could feel his heart beating against her spine. It was so fast. She wasn't sure what to say...
"Summon me."
"What?"
Sarah glanced back reflexively. She caught his gaze from her peripheral, his one eye surprisingly close to her own. That pale iris...that dark liner…he was just so pretty.
"What I said to you that day...as I crossed worlds."
With a knitted brow, Sarah turned over to face him. It took her a second to catch up and realize he was finally answering her question.
Summon him? He *wanted* me to summon him?
"Why?" she asked.
She used his arm as a pillow as she gazed at him. Her hands were knotted between their chests, slyly daring to unwind and press against him. There was a light sprinkling of hair there. She wanted to touch him more.
"I got the feeling...there was something unfinished between us," he said, lifting his hand to brush her hair behind her ear. His eyes moved all around her face, inspecting every detail it seemed. "I thought...if we were given more time...I might figure it out." His voice was quiet, calm. It made their intimate proximity feel even more so. Sarah licked her lips as she glanced away. So all these days...he'd been feeling it too? "Given our current position," he went on, with a shrewd angling of brow. "...It seems I was right."
She couldn't help but grin. He had a way of making the most mundane phrases sound playful, but she knew that behind that tone he was being serious. Their legs subconsciously intertwined, though she very consciously trailed a toe up the length of his calf.
Jareth inhaled deeply before settling his free hand on her shoulder. "Although...I didn't realize you couldn't hear it." And she tilted her head at the way he impulsively smiled. "All this time I've been waiting on your whim. It was starting to feel asinine."
Sarah's brow knitted. His grin was self-deprecating as he shook his head at whatever memory flashed to and from his mind. She felt guilty now. She had no idea. She really didn't think...he cared about seeing her again.
"I'm sorry," she said, looking deeply troubled. "I wanted to. I...really wanted to." And she fiddled with his hair. "I just...didn't want to embarrass myself if I was wrong. Calling you here is a bit more dramatic than picking up a phone," she said and looked up into his eyes. "But...what you said before —about kidnapping me. I don't understand."
Jareth regarded the furrow between her brows and the pout on her lips, and couldn't help but grin. His hand moved down her back, trailing his fingers lightly so she shivered.
"No? I would have thought that one obvious," he said. "You are the Labyrinth's Champion. You have certain powers." His head angled to rest against his own shoulder as his hand draped over her hip. "You cannot be coerced by magic. Incidentally, neither can you be tethered by it. I can only bring you to the Underground if you agree —that is true of any human," he explained, which was all news to her. His gaze lowered to stare at his fingers as they lightly tapped along her hip. "Second, I do not have the authority to keep you there by force." Tap tap. "I'm surprised you haven't realized that on your own. Have you never been curious to return? To see all those lovely friends you made…"
Sarah glanced down into the hollow of his neck. She'd never...really thought about all that. After so many years...hearing him say it all so plainly had her feeling like an ignoramus.
"I...no. No, I've never tried to go back. I was afraid of what might happen…" she said, then trailed off in a different direction. "My friends always came here instead—through the mirror. Which...is something I guess you can't do..." Her voice faded to nothing as contemplation took hold. So she really did have powers? Well, more like defenses, but still. Were there more? Would she have just grown old and died without ever realizing it? Jareth did not respond to her. She looked back up at him curiously. "Jareth?" she asked. He blinked back to attention. "What happens now?"
Pent up frustrations aside, they'd never actually resolved that matter, had they? Jareth moved his hand back up her side and sifted his fingers through her hair.
"I told you, you need to come back with me."
She frowned.
"But I...I can't. I can't just abandon my life here."
"That magic is not yours," Jareth said, frankly, and gestured down her torso with his eyes. "It is the child's. It is only because your bodies are connected that you are able to tap into it. This state could fade, or it could last the entire pregnancy. Being unable to control it makes you a danger to yourself and the people around you," he explained. Sarah's frown only worsened. "—not to mention the shock you would instill by revealing the existence of magical forces to otherwise well-adjusted individuals. We have found it beneficial over the years to keep our world a secret from yours, you know." His words were without inflection, but they displeased her all the same. She didn't know what to say. She knew he was right, but…
Jareth's expression softened as she regarded her.
"You still don't trust me," he said with disappointment. Sarah reacted by looking sharply over at him.
"That's not—"
"Make a wish."
Sarah blinked.
"What?"
"Make a wish," he repeated, calmly. "Form a contract with me. Magic is binding. If you cannot trust my word, then trust your own."
She was confused. That seemed heavy. She couldn't fully grasp why he was being so accommodating.
"Jareth…" she said, then shifted uncomfortably. "...what am I even supposed to say?"
"Firstly, don't say anything," he said, locking a knuckle under her chin and turning her face up towards him. "Write it down. Choose your words carefully, and make sure there is no room for loopholes or interpretation."
He held her gaze very sternly as he said this. Sarah's brow drew tightly together.
"You're serious," she said, skeptically.
"Is this a matter worth joking about?"
"No, I just...I'm surprised." Needing some distance, Sarah turned out of his embrace and sat herself upright. Jareth leaned up on an elbow. "Please don't take this the wrong way, but...if you didn't go all Rumpelstiltskin on me, I was pretty sure you were going to flake." She peered back at him with a wince. His returning stare was unreadable. "You told me to lower my standards, remember?"
Jareth let his head drop into his hand as he stared at her. He didn't look particularly insulted.
"Is that what you would prefer?"
Sarah looked away.
"No…"
"Then make the wish."
She glanced back again, doing her best to dissect his neutral expression. Then she hugged herself and took a deep breath.
"I don't want to stay exclusively in the Underground," she said. Jareth reached out and poked her in the back.
"I never said you had to."
"I want our kid to have a life in this world too."
"Did you think it would not?"
Sarah turned around again and looked down at him.
"I don't know what to think, Jareth. That's kind of the point."
With a sigh, Jareth sat up and situated his pants.
"Like I keep saying, make your wish. Set your terms. Do whatever you feel you need to in order to trust me enough to take care of you."
He didn't notice the red in her cheeks that flared just then. Didn't realize the gravity of what he was actually saying. Or maybe he did. Maybe this was all just common sense to him. Still, she was moved by it. Greatly affected by just how readily he was accepting all of this as a part of his life.
"Alright," she said, then stood to start gathering up her clothes. "Let me find a pen."
The silence that spanned between them as Sarah focused on her task was only marginally awkward. They'd both dressed, Jareth now lounging on the couch sans coat, while Sarah picked bits of soot from her sweater. It was amazing. The damn thing had been in flames yet it was little more than dusty. All the while she cursed herself for not wearing a camisole or something underneath. Stupid pom poms...
She was sitting on the floor in front of him, scribbling on a piece of wrapping paper out on the coffee table. When she was finished writing, she stood and sat next to him again, keeping her posture stiff as she gave him the paper. Jareth's eyes glossed over the text, and she watched him do so anxiously. Was she really going to do this?
"Good," Jareth finally said, then handed it back to her. "This will do."
"You sure?" she asked. Jareth arched a brow. "Okay. Okay. Sorry..." and she took in a deep breath. Once she said this, there was no going back —for either of them. And, actually, she was more worried for his sake than hers. What he was proposing was tantamount to shackles. Hm...proposing.
Whoa girl —don't go getting too far ahead of yourself.
She closed her eyes and cleared her mind. This was terrifying. This was surreal. This was... something she was very much looking forward to.
She licked her lips and peered to the side, locking eyes with Jareth as she tentatively said, "I wish...that Jareth, the Goblin King, will always ensure the safety, wellbeing, and happiness of myself and my children —that he will never harm or betray me or my children, and never infringe upon —or permit others to infringe upon— our freedoms and personal liberties."
She looked worried as she crumpled the paper in her lap. Jareth stared at her all the while, then bowed his head as he outstretched his hands.
"I accept."
Wow. ...so it was that easy? Really? She didn't know what to expect, but she did expect something. A gust of wind. A magic tingle. Anything to signify a bond had been formed. But nope. There was nothing. Nothing but Jareth's word…
"Were you hoping for a boom of thunder?" Jareth asked, with a suppressed bit of amusement. Sarah glanced back at him with a frown.
"Yeah. Kind of."
He laughed, trailing his hand affectionately over her shoulder as he stood. Sarah followed him.
"Now what?" she asked. He bent down to pick up his coat —a red flag that he was readying to leave. Sarah felt a twinge of anxiety flare. "Do...I have to go now?"
Jareth shrugged on his coat then turned to face her.
"No," he said, to her relief. "I imagine your family would be quite alarmed should you suddenly vanish from their basement on Christmas Eve."
"Oh. Yeah...right…"
"You have other loose ends to tie as well, I assume?" he asked. He was arching a brow at her. Sarah pursed her lips.
"Yeah...I'll have to put in a leave of absence at work…"
At the very least. How long would she be in the Underground exactly? Should she just quit? What was she going to tell her parents? Her friends? Oh geez… but those were trivial matters in the scheme of things. She did agree that waiting out her magic symptoms in the Underground was best for everyone...and she should be able to come back whenever she wanted, so...
"What about you?" she asked. Jareth pulled free his hair from behind the collar of his jacket.
"I'll also need a few days to...prepare," he said. Sarah's tongue pressed against the backs of her teeth.
"Okay…"
Jareth paused and grinned. She had a rather scrutinizing look in her eye. How cute.
"I'm not married," he said out of left field. Sarah blinked. "—since you brought it up earlier." The grin on his face let her know he was teasing. She tried not to scowl. "And, like I said, I don't have any children. Your arrival is going to be seen as….very exciting."
"Exciting?" Sarah repeated. That was not the word she would have gone with. Jareth's grin curled on one side, like he had a dirty little secret kept behind it.
"Yes. You'll see."
Now that was ominous. Sarah crossed her arms as she fought to deny her sudden flare of insecurity. Behind it all, she couldn't stop worrying over whether or not he was going to leave now. It made her nervous.
"But first…"
Sarah looked up. It was reflexive. She'd expected him to still be smiling at her. However, the look she was greeted with was a surprisingly close reflection of her own. There was some tension in his brow.
"But first?" she repeated. Jareth's eyes flickered down. His jaw clenched. Sarah interpreted these mannerisms as nervous ones, though she didn't understand why he would be. He took a step towards her and kept his eyes fixed on the little puff of soot he plucked from her torso.
"...You're going to form another contract with me."
"What?"
She watched his throat bob as he swallowed. Watched his brow furrow a bit more.
"Promise me…" he said, then paused. He took another small step toward her and placed his hands around the nape of her neck. He came in very close. Angled her head up so she stared into his eyes. She reached up and gripped his jacket in nervous anticipation. His eyes on hers were serious, intense, scared. "Promise me that once I leave, I will see you again," he said. Sarah drew back. "—And not in another two months. Not after the child is born or when you're on your deathbed. By...week's end. Swear to me that you will call on me by week's end."
She was shocked by the transparency he conveyed. Moved by the sincerity in his eyes. So he didn't quite trust her either? He was afraid that she would ghost? She didn't know why she was so surprised. Maybe she'd just been in too many bad relationships. Maybe it was just hard to believe a decent guy existed, let alone that Jareth might be one of them.
Or maybe...maybe she was hesitant to believe he might actually like her. That this whole situation was about more than just taking responsibility to him.
She wanted to believe that. Desperately.
"I promise," she said, then leaned up on her toes to kiss him. She let her lips linger, then fluttered her lashes against his cheek as she added, "I will wish for you by the week's end."
Jareth's hand lifted to graze along her cheek. Her gesture seemed to placate him. The look in his eye softened.
"Good. There's no magic behind this...so I will be very displeased if you don't."
She lowered from her toes but kept her hands on his chest.
"Well, you know where I live now. So..." Her eyes roamed away conspicuously, trying to lighten the mood. By the time they made their way back, he was smiling —just barely. "What?"
"...Nothing."
"Something?" she countered. There was a twinkle in his eye now. It made her suspicious. A feeling which increased with the way his wry grin curled.
"I'll tell you later."
Sarah's eyes narrowed.
"Okay…?"
She looked perplexed as he reached up and caressed her temples.
"I'm just...glad it was you," he said. Huh?
He let her go and turned away, even going so far as to take a step like that was it—
"Do...you have to leave? Like, right now?" she asked on impulse. Jareth paused.
"Not this instant, no."
"How long can you stay?"
"Your wish was that I ensure your happiness," he said and gave her a well-mannered dip of the head. "Indefinite terms mean I can stay as long as you'd like."
Sarah blinked. Oh snap. He'd said before that he couldn't stay in the Above for long periods of time. Had she just bypassed fae law? Talk about a loophole…
"Would...you like to stay for a bit?" she asked tentatively. "I mean...I know you have your own party to get back to, so it's fine if you don't…" her voice trailed off and her eyes turned to the side awkwardly. A little grin twitched the corner of his lips.
"They'll get on just fine without me."
"Okay…" Sarah said, wishing he would have answered her question instead. Oh well. Might as well roll with it. "Can your preparations wait 'til morning?"
She peered up to find him looking quite aloof.
"They can."
"Great," she said, then angled away. "Um...I guess I'll go get us some snacks from upstairs...there's a TV down here. So...we can watch a movie or something...if you want."
"Alright."
"Okay…" she said again, fussing with the sleeve of her sweater as she took a step towards the stairs. "—Hang tight."
Sarah shushed her stupid racing heart as she made her way out of the basement. God. She was acting like a teenager —getting all antsy and shy like that. He was probably laughing at her. Humoring her. No. No stop negging yourself, Sarah. You're just emotional from —from everything. Just enjoy it. No matter how weird it is…
But hot damn, it was weird. Wasn't it? Was this not a twilight zone? Had she not just fucked his brains out again in her freaking parents' basement?! Fuck. And now she was scheduled to basically move in with him and he was forever obliged to make her happy... Did this mean they were dating? Would their relationship have a title at all? How would she be regarded by his people? Why was she feeling so freaking giddy despite all these unanswered questions?
She shook her head as she internally berated, and wasn't paying the least bit of attention to anyone as she snuck into the kitchen and began arbitrarily loading up a platter.
"Sarah? There you are!"
Sarah looked over at Karen making a hurried b-line straight at her. "I haven't seen you all night. Where have you been?"
"Huh?" was Sarah's immediate response. She froze for a second, and then shook her head with a dumb smile. "Nowhere. Just floating around like everyone else," she said. Karen pursed her lips as she inspected her.
"Hm…" she said. Sarah slowed her foraging. She knew that hum. "How did you like Henry?" she asked. "He's a very nice boy, isn't he?"
Sarah shrugged.
"He sure is, Karen. He's as nice as a Jamaican sunset. Too bad I don't care—"
Karen gasped.
"Sarah! That's very rude," she said, darting her eyes all around like someone might hear. "Why don't you like him?"
Sarah slapped a big ol' glob of whipped cream onto a slice of pie.
"He's not blond," she said, deadpan. Karen scoffed and rolled her eyes.
"Since when were you so superficial?" she asked, hands going to hip. Sarah cocked a bored brow.
"Since just now," she replied, then took up her tray in hand. Karen's eyes darted to it, and she scowled in confusion at the gratuitous amount of food and drink she'd just now noticed Sarah had been gathering. Sarah panicked and turned away in a flash. " 'Scuse me," she said, and smiled awkwardly. "I'm uh…I'm starving."
Karen didn't say anything, not that she gave her the chance to. No, Sarah practically ducked for cover as she scuttled out of the kitchen. She pretended to play hostess, acting like all this food was for general pickings in the next room. As expected, no one noticed her. She entered the hallway leading back to the basement when she nearly bumped food first straight into Toby.
They both startled back, leaving Sarah to wonder why the hell he was so jumpy. He had a panicked look in his eye too. Hm...
"Hey there. I'm surprised you're still up," she said, inspecting him carefully. He wouldn't look her in the eye. That's when she noticed something in his hand —which he tried to conceal behind his back. "...Whatcha got there, bud?"
Toby rocked back on his heels and casually revealed his glass.
"Ah...some eggnog. Why?"
Sarah arched a brow.
"That's from the fridge and not the punch bowl, right?"
Toby's eyes rolled oh so casually to the side.
"Yeah..."
"Uh huh," Sarah said, her expression falling dead. Toby got a little stiff. "I can smell you from here, you know," she added.
"I dunno what you're talking about. Must be Mom you're smelling," he said. Sarah laughed.
"Maybe so, but you better not let her catch you with that. She'll be furious." Toby, anticipating a scolding, paused and looked at Sarah with a light of hope.
"You're not going to tell on me?" he asked. Sarah shrugged.
"Who do you think I am?" she asked. "It's Christmas and you're thirteen. A glass of eggnog isn't going to kill you." And then she leaned in devilishly. "Besides, now you're in my debt."
Toby, totally unphased by her threat, stared very puzzledly at the tray of food she held.
"Why do you have so much crap?" he asked. Sarah flinched.
"Who asked you?" she snapped in a fluster. "Maybe I'm saving it for spring. Now get."
She jerked her chin in mock impatience, but really she was freaking the fuck out. If one more person made a show about her frickin snacks…
Toby tugged down the sleeve of his sweater to conceal his drink, then dashed around her. He caught himself in the archway, however, and she glanced back just as he turned around and, with a wide smile, said, "Thanks Sarah."
Sarah huffed as her posture relaxed. This freaking kid…
"You got it, bucko."
Sarah reentered the basement with that same stupid smile on her face. A part of her toyed with the idea of inviting Jareth upstairs, everyone was so drunk they probably wouldn't find anything too out of place about him, but...no. No, she was not ready for that.
She hit the bottom of the stairs and spied him lounging on the couch again. He'd taken off his coat. Made himself comfortable. Goddammit, face —stop grinning.
She stepped around the couch and set her tray down on the coffee table.
"Here ya go —a yuletide feast," she said with unintentional irony. Jareth peered up at her and laughed. She took a cup of cocoa from the tray and sat next to him, realizing he'd been staring into a crystal. "What are you doing?"
"Checking up on the rabble," he said, then offered her a look into the orb. Sarah leaned in closer to him, fixing her eyes on the strangely fluid looking glass and the myriad of pictures that were contained within it.
She didn't understand what she was looking at right away. It just looked like a bunch of bodies. She narrowed her eyes. …And then it clicked. Oh. OH.
Her eyes widened bashfully as she leaned back in her seat, clutching her wholesome cocoa close to her chest as she looked back at Jareth.
"I see...they seem to be enjoying themselves," she said and took a dainty sip. "You sure you wouldn't rather head back there?"
Jareth rolled the crystal along his hand until it vanished, then cast an arm along the back of the couch as he inched towards her. She looked a little meek. It contrasted greatly against the wanton sex fiend he knew her to be. It couldn't have possibly been the frost-bitten orgie that was making her shy…
Amused, Jareth angled his head as he leaned in towards her. There was a swirly mountain of whipped cream in her cup. How convenient. He curled a finger through it and brought it to her lips.
And there she was —readily revealed by the spark in her eye as she opened her mouth and accepted. He smiled as he pressed his finger to her tongue, pulling back slowly as he watched her lick away the cream. Meek. Ha. Who was she trying to fool?
"Trust me, pretty kitty," he said, with a seductive drop in tenor as his gaze turned hazy on her mouth. He thrust his index finger inward again, provoking her to suckle and kiss it suggestively. He watched her tongue curl, watched her saliva spread and her teeth glint, watched the eagerness build within her —and his cock throbbed.
He took her cup from her and placed it back on the table, then traced his wet finger along her lips as he leaned in...
"I am exactly where I want to be," he said and sealed the words with a kiss.
A/N- Happy Holidays if you celebrate them =D See you at Easter!
