"Beelzebub has a devil put aside for me… for me… for MEEEEEE!"
The sound of Queen's Bohemian Rhapsody filled the front gallery of the Roald Dahl Museum as Sarah's phone buzzed to life. The museum patrons turned to glare at her as she fumbled the phone out of her vest pocket and hit the Answer button.
"Hello?" she said, stepping outside.
"Hello Sarah," said the voice on the other end of the line.
"Jareth? Uh, hi. What's up?"
"I'm calling with the promised dinner invitation," he answered.
"Oh, ok," Sarah replied. She had been half-hoping he hadn't been serious about them having dinner together. Obviously he had been.
"Are you free this Friday evening?'
"No," answered Sarah. "I have a thing… a function."
"A function? Where, may I ask?"
Sarah swallowed hard. "At church," she replied.
There was a guffaw followed by a pause followed by, "Oh heavens, you're not joking."
"No, Jareth," she told him. "I'm not joking. And don't you dare make fun of me for it."
"Sarah dear, far be it from me to make fun of a person's faith. After all, it was your faith that brought me to you…"
There was a long pause on the line. Finally Jareth spoke again. "Saturday then?"
"Yes," said Sarah. "Saturday will be fine."
"Lovely," said Jareth. "Would you mind coming here, Sarah? It would be refreshing to sit and talk to a human being without the confines of a glamour. I know it's asking a lot, but I'll make it up to you by cooking you a fantastic dinner."
Sarah sighed. She could certainly understand Jareth's need to breathe and relax and just be himself.
"It's no trouble, Jareth," she told him. "I'll even bring the wine."
"You are precious," he purred. "See you around seven?"
"See you Saturday, Jareth."
"How much for the puzzle game?" asked the plump gray-haired lady in front of Sarah's table. She'd picked up an item from among Sarah's lot and was closely examining it.
"Um… two pounds?" offered Sarah. She hadn't played the game since she was a kid and wasn't sure why she'd brought it with her when she moved.
"Probably just got mixed up with all my other junk," she thought.
"I guess I'll take it," said the lady, pulling out a crinkled five pound note. Sarah gave the woman her change and the lady picked up the large wooden box containing the labyrinth game and walked away.
"You finally sold something," said Moira from her table next to Sarah's. The church rummage sale had been in full swing for two hours and Sarah had only made her first sale.
Sarah waved the bill in front of her face like a fan. "Yes Moira, dear. Gaze upon my vast riches and weep!"
Her friend laughed. "I'm sure the Youth Sunday School will be grateful for your two pounds when they get their new tables."
"Maybe," said Sarah. "Or maybe we can get ol' Clarkston to bless it and see if it'll multiply like loaves and fish."
Moira snorted and the sound echoed through the Activities Room of the stone church. "You're such a wretched sinner, Sarah," she giggled.
"You have no idea," Sarah replied.
"Speaking of sinners," Moira said, scooting her chair closer to Sarah's table. "I heard that someone else was caught reading The Book."
"Oh?" said Sarah, leaning in to her friend. "What saintly mother of Great Missenden has been brought down by pornography this time?"
Moira shook her head and grinned wickedly. "It wasn't one of the ladies. It was a gentleman that had The Book."
Sarah drew in a dramatic breath and placed her hand over her mouth. "No!" she cried mockingly. "Who?"
"Patrick McGann," replied Moira.
"Patrick… wait. Isn't he in seminary?" asked Sarah.
Moira nodded, her eyes alight with secrets.
"Well?" coaxed Sarah.
"He had it in his dorm room at the seminary. Under his mattress!" Moira blurted. "He wasn't dismissed, but he's undergoing disciplinary action. And of course his poor parents are beyond mortified."
"But it's just a book," Sarah said. "I don't know why it's causing such a ruckus. You Brits have quite a colorful history of bawdy, sexually-based humor."
"This is different," her friend explained. "Sexual humor is just silly. The Book is considered rather dangerous by some because of its serious and graphic depictions of acts that are typically frowned upon by the church at large. The main character is quite promiscuous and she engages in a rather sordid array of sex acts."
"Why does anyone care? Isn't sex supposed to be private?"
"That's part of the argument against The Book," said Moira. "It's dragged private matters out into the open and made them entertainment."
"I guess I don't understand because I wasn't raised religious," Sarah told the other woman. "We went to services on Christmas and Easter and we sometimes had a blessing before a meal, but that was the extent of it. I wasn't raised to think that sex was something that was dirty or unspeakable."
"Well, it's not exactly that we think that, but most church-goers would rather pretend that sex doesn't exist outside of procreation," Moira told her.
"And I'll just bet that half of them are actually dirty freaks who like a 'rather sordid array of sex acts'," snickered Sarah.
"Probably," Moira agreed. "Ugh, let's change the subject. Do you want to come for dinner tomorrow?"
Sarah froze. The next day was Saturday. She had a dinner date. With Jareth.
"I can't," she told her friend. "I… uh, have to go to London."
"Fuck! You couldn't think of anything else to say?" screamed her brain to her loose tongue.
Moira raised an eyebrow. "Oh?" she said. "What are you doing in the city?"
Sarah started to lie and tell her friend she was meeting with her agent, but Moira knew Sarah's agent never scheduled meetings on Saturday.
"I'm having dinner. With an old friend."
Moira grinned. "An old friend, eh? The same old friend from the pub? What was his name again? Jared?"
"Jareth," Sarah corrected. "And yes, we're having dinner together. But just as friends. He made that abundantly clear."
She was still a bit ruffled by Jareth's reaction to her question of him asking her out, though she wasn't sure why. She certainly had no interest in getting romantically involved with the former leather-loving, baby-napping king of the goblins.
Moira squealed with delight anyway. "Oh Sarah," she gushed. "The best relationships always start out as friendships. Brant and I were friends for years before he finally asked me out. After that, it all just fell into place."
"I've already told you, Moira dear, that I am not looking for a relationship, and I'm certainly not looking to get involved with Jareth."
"Did you buy a new outfit?"
Sarah thought about the brand new red wrap dress that was hanging on her bedroom door, fresh from the boutique next to The Cross Keys.
"I… well, I don't want to look like a total country bumpkin!" she blurted.
Moira just laughed.
Sarah's effort to be presentable did not go unnoticed. Jareth smiled appreciatively at Sarah's attire as he helped out of her wool peacoat the following evening. The dress was simple and modest, but cut in a way that still flattered her figure.
"Very nice," he said, placing a kiss on her cheek.
Jareth, of course, looked amazing. His oversized fisherman's sweater was casual, but he made it look ultra-refined. He'd paired it with slim-fit jeans and a pair of well-made leather loafers.
"I-uh, brought some wine," Sarah said, shoving the bottle gracelessly at him. He took it and looked it over, raising his eyebrows at her choice.
"Oh my," he said. "Well done, Sarah. This will go nicely with dinner."
Sarah sniffed the air in his flat, noting a hint of brine and garlic. "What's cooking?" she asked.
"Linguine alle cozze," answered Jareth as he led the way to his tiny kitchen. He set the bottle of wine on the counter and stirred something in a saucepan before fishing a corkscrew from a drawer. He deftly removed the cork from the wine bottle and poured them each a glass.
"Linguine with clams?" Sarah asked, accepting the glass of wine from his outstretched hand.
"Close," he replied. He paused and pressed his glass of wine beneath his nose and inhaled deeply. "Linguine and mussels," he told her before taking a sip from his glass.
"Mmm," he purred. "Heaven."
Still holding the glass of wine, he stirred the contents of the saucepan a bit more before tipping a bit of the wine from his glass into it.
"Enriches the sauce a bit, I find," he explained.
Sarah blinked her eyes at him. "I'm kind of surprised that you cook, Jareth," she said. "You don't need to, do you?"
"I have to eat just as you do, Sarah," Jareth said.
"No, I mean cook. You don't have to cook. Can't you just magick up some food?" Sarah only realized how stupid her question sounded once it had already left her lips.
Jareth just smiled. "I suppose I could just 'magick up some food" as you say, but I prefer not to. As I've told you, I've chosen to use magic only after careful consideration."
"So you've never woken up at 2am with a craving for Thai noodles and thought "Fuck this no magic nonsense" and poofed some straight into your bedroom?"
"No," said Jareth with a chuckle. "For one, I'm usually awake at 2am anyway. Two, there's an excellent 24-hour noodle shop one street over. And three, I find cooking rather relaxing."
Sarah glanced over the steaming pots and bubbling saucepan. She couldn't relate. Karen had been much too fussy to let her into the kitchen to try her hand at cooking. She had taken a few basic cooking lessons and could boil water for tea and make scrambled eggs and not-terrible spaghetti, but that was pretty much it. Most of her dinners were eaten out and she usually took her leftovers home for lunch the next day.
"Where did you learn to cook, anyway?" she asked Jareth.
"Luca," he answered, removing a large boiling pot from the stove. He carefully strained out the linguine noodles and deposited them into the saucepan along with a spoonful of the water from the pot.
"Luca?" echoed Sarah. She watched him expertly stir the noodles through the sauce, coating them completely.
"Yes, he was the chef at The King's Pint. Italian fellow, taught by a wizened old Nonna, no doubt. He made the most amazing Carbonara…" Jareth paused and looked pensive, even sad for a moment before quickly recovering. "Anyway, I asked him to teach me and he did. He was very patient. I was just a few months out of the Underground and unaccustomed to taking orders from anyone. We butted heads more than a few times."
Jareth paused again and took a long gulp from his wine and Sarah didn't miss the wistful look that passed over her eyes.
"It looks like he taught you well," Sarah said quietly.
"Yes. Yes, he did. He was quite a fellow. I… I hadn't thought of him in quite some time. Funny, that."
"You had a special relationship with him?" Sarah ventured.
Jareth nodded slowly. "We were lovers. For a time."
"Where is he now?"
"He passed away a few years ago."
"Shit, Jareth. I'm sorry! I wouldn't have asked…"
Jareth laid a hand over Sarah's.
"Now now, don't worry, Sarah dear." he tutted. "It's not like that. Luca and I didn't have any kind of passionate affair. There weren't any romantic feelings, really. Plenty of lust… Besides, our relationship had been long ended when he passed."
"Still…" whined Sarah.
Jareth raised a finger to shush her. "I won't have this exquisite dinner spoiled by ghosts, Sarah dear," he said.
Sarah nodded her agreement and Jareth smiled. "Good," he said. "Now, if you'll take our glasses to the table, I will 'magick up' some truly excellent pasta."
Sarah did as she was told and took the wine glasses to the small table just outside the kitchen. Jareth had thankfully removed the stacks of books and sheet music from it and had placed a simple, but pretty Irish linen tablecloth over it. Retrieving the bottle of wine from the counter, Sarah refilled the wine glasses while Jareth heaped plates with pasta and mussels.
With plates in hand, they retreated to the small table and sat down. Jareth raised his glass to Sarah.
"To secrets bared and burdens shared," he said.
"Here, here," said Sarah as she clinked her glass to his.
A/N: I'm posting a day early this week because I have to go out of town tomorrow.
Thanks to everyone still following along:
Guest: Here's more for you to binge on. Enjoy!
Tenjp: I love the thought of Jareth as a shark. *cue dramatic music* We'll have to wait and see if he's on the up and up, I suppose!
cahicks1997: I like semi-human mortal Jareth too. The idea of him puttering about makes me smile. :)
I have a Spotify playlist for this story. It was carefully curated specifically for this story and makes the reading a bit more immersive, IMHO. Let me know if you're interested and I'll include a link in the next post.
Thanks!
~Fanny~