"So, how was dinner last night?" Moira whispered under the hum of the church organ as the choir filed into the loft.

"It was nice," Sarah whispered back.

"Nice? That's all you've got?" asked her friend, annoyed.

"Yes, for now," replied Sarah. "Can't you wait until after the service?"

"No," Moira admitted. "I want all the sordid details now."

"There aren't any sordid details." Sarah whispered to her friend. "I went to his flat. He made pasta. It was good. Very good. We ate and talked and then I left. That's it."

Moira stared back at her. "You're no fun, Sarah," she grunted.

"Why? Because I don't have a saucy, sexy tale to tell?" Sarah retorted.

Unfortunately, the organ stopped at that moment and her voice echoed across the little church. All the heads in the sanctuary turned to look at her and Sarah flushed bright red. Rev. Clarkston stepped up to the podium and glared at Sarah before clearing his throat.

"First Corinthians chapter 15 and verse thirty-four," he announced over the crowd. "Wake up from your drunken stupor, as is right, and do not go on sinning. For some have no knowledge of God. I say this to your shame..."

Sarah sat back in her pew as the reverend's voice droned on. She tried to pay attention to what he was saying, but her mind kept going back the evening before.

Jareth's pasta had been delicious. In fact, Sarah was almost certain she'd not had better, even at the so-called authentic Italian restaurants in the city. She had eaten a healthy portion and Jareth had seemed pleased with her enthusiastic consumption of his cooking. He'd sent her home with another serving in a plastic container for her lunch the next day.

"Thanks," Sarah had told him as he popped the lid onto the container and handed it to her. "This will be nice while I'm working tomorrow."

"Writing or museum?" Jareth had asked.

"Writing," Sarah had answered. "My ideas really seem to be flowing now. It's a big relief."

"You're a regular Judy Blume," Jareth had chuckled and Sarah had almost choked on her wine.

"What?" she'd sputtered and grabbed a napkin to wipe her chin.

Jareth quirked an eyebrow at her. "Surely you know Judy Blume," he'd said. "The author of quite a collection of children's and young adult fiction?"

"I know who Judy Blume is," Sarah had told him. "Why did you say that about me?"

"Because you also write children's literature," Jareth had answered slowly. "Are you quite all right, Sarah?"

Sarah blinked as she registered his meaning. "Children's literature," she'd said. "Right, of course. I write children's books."

Jareth had drawn in a breath and let the awkward moment pass. "What else do you do in your little hamlet, Sarah?" he had asked.

"Well," Sarah had said between bites of mussel, "You already know that I volunteer at the museum and I'm involved with the local church…"

"A fact I find fascinating," Jareth had quipped with a grin. "I never took you for the religious type, Sarah. Not Western religion anyway."

"Well, it does sometimes clash with my more pagan sensibilities," she'd admitted. "But the community is centered around it and so I gravitated there too. They've accepted me now and it feels nice to fit in."

Jareth had smiled knowingly, "You mean blend in," he'd remarked.

Sarah had looked up at him, ready to protest, but the expression on his face was one of complete understanding and commiseration. "Yeah," she had agreed. "That too."

The conversation had lightened after that, turning to questions about Sarah's family and Jareth's account of leaving the Underground in the hands of Sarah's trio of friends.

"Hoggle and Ludo and Sir Didymus are ruling over the Goblin Kingdom?" she had squealed.

"They're aren't ruling, per se," answered Jareth. "And it's the Goblin Republic now," he added, rolling his eyes.

Sarah giggled. "I'm sure Hoggle had plenty to say about you going all Wizard of Oz and ditching," she'd laughed.

"Hmph," Jareth had grunted. "I left before the little scab had a chance."

"Could I see my friends?" Sarah had asked him. "I saw them just after my run, but never again after that. I knew they were there. I could feel them, but…"

"Your defeat of the Labyrinth closed its doors to you," Jareth had told her, growing quiet. "For their role in assisting you, your friends were granted a brief passage Above, but nothing more."

"But what about you? Does that mean you're stuck here?"

"No," Jareth had replied, shaking his head. "If I wished to go before the Council and reclaim my throne, I could return to the Underground."

"But you won't."

"No. Those days are over."

"Sorry about earlier," Moira said when the service had ended. "I didn't mean to push you, Sar. I was just eager to hear what happened."

"It's okay," Sarah said as she took her friend's arm. "I wish there were more juicy details to tell you…"

"You could tell her about the way he tucked his hair behind his ear when he was cooking," her traitorous brain chimed in.

"Shut up."

"Or the adorable way he says your name, 'Sah-rah'."

"Really shut up."

"Or that sweet little peck at the front door when you left…"

"Argh!"

"Hey, are you okay?" Moira was asking. "You looked a little funny there for a minute." She had a concerned look on her face.

"I'm fine," Sarah told her. "And before you ask, yes, I am going to see him again. He's giving a lecture on the art and imagery of Celtic mythology this weekend."

Moira pulled a face. "Sounds remarkably boring," she said. "But if his voice is anything like his looks, I'm pretty sure I'd sit and listen to your friend read from my car's owners manual."

"Are you still coming Friday night, Judy?" Jareth asked over the phone. Ever since their conversation regarding Judy Blume, he'd taken to calling her that. Sarah had responded by dubbing him "Mr. Chips" after the character Arthur Chipping in the book Goodbye, Mr. Chips.

"Have no fear, Chips," Sarah answered. "I even bought a new suit so as not to embarass you in front of your distinguished colleagues."

In truth, Sarah had been eyeing the pinstripe in the front window of Fenwick's for several weeks, but she'd had nowhere to wear it to justify paying the outrageous price for the garment. When Jareth had told her about the lecture, she'd made a special trip to the city to purchase the suit and have it tailored.

Judging by Jareth's goggle-eyed expression when she entered the lecture hall, it was well worth the expense. The suit fit her figure perfectly, highlighting her slim waist and long legs. The jacket front plunged at the neckline, though not daringly so. Just enough to hint at the shapely curves beneath it.

"I find myself at a complete lack of words," Jareth told her, greeting her with a kiss to her cheek.

"You?" teased Sarah. "That's probably a first."

Jareth laughed and offered her his arm and guided her around the room, introducing her to Dr. So-and-so and Distinguished Professor Whatever and Dean of Arts, Dr. Blah-blah-blah. The group of gray old men all looked and sounded the same to Sarah, but she still flashed them her "front cover smile" that her mother had taught her when she was young.

Jareth stood out like a beacon amongst the sea of gray hair and dark suits with his honey-blonde mane and powder blue sport coat. He'd paired the jacket with a patterned button-down, slate gray tailored pants and expensive-looking black dress shoes.

Leading her to a seat near the front of the hall, Jareth leaned down to Sarah. "I have to go and be brilliant now, Judy dear. Try not to yawn too much."

"I'll do my best, Chips," Sarah replied. "Try not to be too boring."

He gave her a little smirk before making his way to the stage.

His lecture was anything but boring. Jareth spoke eloquently on the vast array of imagery that accompanied Celtic myths and legends and presented a slideshow of art pieces, ancient relics and colorful illuminations that told the story of the old deities and heroes. Sarah was rapt throughout the lecture, as was most of the audience. Jareth finished to generous applause and was immediately swarmed by the crowd. Sarah stood back and waited as he chatted and accepted congratulatory remarks. Finally, the crowd dispersed and he made his way over to where she waited.

"Sorry about that, love," he said, pressing a kiss to her jaw.

"Don't be," Sarah said with a smile. "You must attend to your adoring fans."

"Are you one of them?" he asked slyly. The twinkle in his eye made her breath hitch a bit and she tried not to let it show.

"I have to admit," Sarah said with feigned calm, "Your lecture was incredible. It looked like a lot of research went into it."

"Oh yes, plenty of research," Jareth replied. "And plenty of first-hand experience."

Sarah laughed and leaned into him as they exited the hall. "How did you ever manage to get on as a professor at King's College?" she asked. "Did you even go to college?"

Jareth wasn't offended by her question and answered truthfully. "I was highly educated for my station in the Underground," he told her. "Of course, it was necessary to find suitable employment when I abdicated the throne. I used quite a bit of magic and a dose of charm to create a curriculum vitae for myself. My background makes me perfectly qualified to teach, so I didn't really cheat. Much."

"So… abracadabra you're a Ph.d?"

"Pretty much."

"I kind of wished we had met up again sooner," Sarah told him.

He stopped walking and turned back to her. "Oh?" he said.

"Yes," replied Sarah. "You could have saved me thousands in student loan debt."

"Very funny, Judy dear."

They grabbed a late supper at a nearby chip shop and then Jareth walked her to the station. He seemed pensive as they strolled, scowling to himself as if carrying on some kind of inner dialogue. Sarah turned to him as they reached the station turnstiles.

"Thanks for inviting me to your lecture," she said. "It really was amazing." Jareth said nothing but gave her an intense look, one that was oddly familiar. Sarah's heart leapt into her throat as she remembered where she had seen that look before. It had been in the crystal ballroom when she had been sure Jareth was going to kiss her. He stepped forward and moved to bend toward her and Sarah went up on her tiptoes and kissed his forehead instead. Before Jareth could react, she swished through the turnstile, stopping only to wave and call out a goodbye to him before turning away and rushing to her train.

Flopping into a seat, she laid a hand over her chest. Her heart was thundering beneath her fingers.

"Chill out, Sarah," she told herself. It doesn't mean anything. And even if it did, would it be so bad to let him kiss you?"

"Yes," she said aloud. "It could be very, very bad."

At the turnstiles, Jareth watched Sarah's train lurch out of the station, carrying her back to her small town. He smiled to himself. She could still run from him, but she was old enough for him to pursue now and he had always been fond of the chase.

"Ready, steady, go," he purred to the departing train.

"You ran away?" squealed Moira as they sat together at The Cross Keys.

Sarah put her head in her hands. "I know!" she cried. "I panicked. I wasn't sure what to do. I mean, I guess I wanted him to kiss me, but then part of me didn't. I know that sounds ridiculous."

"Not really," said her friend. "The two of you have a complex past."

"Understatement of the year," thought Sarah.

"He's a former mentor, someone of importance that you've looked up to. You've not been on equal footing before. The idea of that kind of role shift can seem daunting," Moira continued.

"So, I did the right thing?" Sarah asked, looking up.

"I don't know, Sar," said Moira. She took a big draught from her pint. "Sooner or later you're going to have to deal with this and be honest with yourself about what you want from this man."

"I don't know," groaned Sarah. "I mean, I'm attracted to him and I'm pretty sure he is to me as well. I just don't want a big, sloppy two-week sex-fest followed by six months of heartbreak and self-loathing."

"How do you know that will happen?" asked Moira.

Sarah looked down at her pint. "His type are easily bored," she answered. She wasn't a fool. She knew her mythology and she wasn't enthralled by the idea of taking on a Fae lover only to be cast aside to waste away yearning for the touch of magic.

"Enjoy what you have right now, then," said Moira. "Don't worry so much about six months from now. It there's one thing I learned from Kieran's death it's to make every moment count and take nothing for granted."

"Take nothing for granted." echoed Sarah's brain.

"Maybe you're right," Sarah told her friend. "Maybe I should just relax and enjoy it while it lasts."

"Oh you should definitely enjoy it, Sar," Moira said grinning wickedly. "You should enjoy every last inch of it."

A/N:

As promised, here is the link for the playlist for this story: playlist/7vAJS1cBm4in0bssh7iNm1

Since doens't allow clickable outside links you'll have to copy and paste the link into your search engine.

Timelordartist: I am a little jealous that you get to call the real Great Missenden your home. I hope you're not offended by the artistic liberties I've taken with your town.

Annibale: *bow* Thank you, dear!

Kitomi0211: I hope you enjoy the playlist.

~Fanny~