Sarah could have danced all night and not noticed the passage of time. Jareth had always been excellent as a dancing partner, even when she was fifteen, and even though that dance had been a dream. Part of the problem was that this area seemed stuck in a state of ever-twilight, so even the windows didn't show any change in the hour. That reminded her more of the peach dream, how the only indicator of time's passage was the clock that had allowed her to snap out of the dream.

When the party started winding down, he returned with her to the room she'd first changed in. His hand rested at the small of her back, and she was glad for it. She felt bleary-eyed and exhausted, and just tipsy enough to feel a little giddy.

Maybe that was why once they were in the room, she didn't snap at him when she felt him pull the ties that held her dress up and start loosening them for her. She lifted her arms, holding the bodice in place so that it wouldn't fall and she turned towards him.

He was looking at her, but didn't reach for her or touch her further. A deep breath escaped her and she looked up at him, thinking for a long moment.

"Thank you," she said, then turned and went back into the changing room where the clothing she'd worn here waited. She felt the weight of his gaze until the door was closed between them. Her back still felt hot where he'd touched her, but she was too tired to think much about it. So she changed into her own clothing, her fingers brushing over the gown as she put it back on the dressform. She decided she could worry about her hair and make-up, later, at her own home.

When she went into the other room, Jareth was wearing what he'd been in at the beginning of the night as well. Even he looked somewhat tired, though when she compared it to their meeting at the end of her run, she thought he was probably okay. She walked towards him, looking up at him.

The champagne had fuzzed her brain, but she wasn't going to have another bad morning. For a long moment, she wondered how much he had to do with that.

He turned towards her, and she thought his eyes looked millions of miles away. "You're tired, my dear. Let's get you home."

She gave him a smile, nodding her head. "I'd appreciate it."

His hand touched her arm, slid down until his fingers laced through hers. The caress surprised her and she looked down at their joined fingers. His eyes were fixed on her face, and she found herself trapped by them. She wasn't sure when it happened, but one moment they were standing in the faerie lands, and the next they were in her kitchen, almost exactly where they'd been when they'd left.

He didn't drop her hand, his eyes still holding her own, bright in the darkness of her kitchen. "Can you handle it?"

She gave it serious thought, because he was asking her so seriously. Then, she gave a quiet laugh and shook her head. "Jareth, if that's the most decadent and debauched the fae can manage, I've got some interesting stories from my earlier college years that I think would broaden their horizons."

His lips twisted in amusement, and she thought she saw interest in them as well. It was the first sign of a smile that she'd seen since they'd left the ballroom and it softened the intensity of his expression. "I assure you, the mildness had less to do with a lack of creativity and more to do with their own surprise. They were not expecting a mortal there, and you played your part quite well. And, Georgine and Titian excepting, you played the part of a buffer quite well."

"Wild guess, you were trying to dodge them, this evening and that's why you wanted me along?"

He gave a brusque laugh, and she discovered that she liked it better when he smiled or laughed than when his face was so severe in it's seriousness. Which was a thought that could get her into trouble, so she pushed it aside.

"After your brief meeting, do you blame me?"

She gave him a grin in return, then thought for a long moment. That took effort, she was very tired. "Are you wanting to do this contract signing tonight, or are you coming by tomorrow?"

She'd already resigned herself to the fact that she wasn't getting any more work done on her paper done until after Christmas, so it wasn't like he'd be interrupting her. When she looked into his eyes, again, she found he looked a bit serious again. His eyes ran over her face, examining hers. She wasn't certain what the tangle of emotions she saw in his eyes were.

His hand came to rest at her jaw, holding her face up so she wasn't able to look away from his eyes. When he spoke, his voice was quiet and serious, with a dark edge that did things she didn't want to think about to her libido.

"You aren't afraid of me, are you."

It wasn't a question, not really. The intensity in those brilliant eyes made her breath catch just a bit and her lips parted just a bit. "What?"

"This morning, when you saw me, there was dread in your eyes. That had more to do with your own worries about what you might have done that you couldn't remember. But there wasn't fear."

She blinked, surprised that he'd read her so well. She shouldn't be, he'd always read her well. "Should I be? Are you planning to do something to hurt me?"

When he smiled, all she caught was a flash of his sharp teeth in the darkness of her apartment. He stepped towards her and leaned down, his lips brushing against hers. It was fleeting, just a hot caress of his mouth on hers, then gone. Her breath caught in her lungs, and she stared up at him through wide-eyes, but she didn't back away from him. "What was that for?"

His thumb brushed a warm path along her cheek. "First, to thank you for your assistance this evening. Second, if we're going to pretend to be lovers in front of your parents, you're going to need to be used to things like that. Lovers kiss and touch one another. If you want to fool them, you can't afford to get surprised when I'm nearby."

It was a warning, she heard it in his voice. It made her swallow hard, but she refused to back away. "Some warning would be appreciated."

"I'll take that into consideration, my dear," he laughed, and stepped back, his fingers brushing along her jawline as he did. "Rest well, and I'll see you in the morning."

He vanished as his fingertips left her skin, with the faintest trace of glitter.

When he was gone, her knees gave out and she landed on the floor with a thump, both hands covering her mouth. Her brain had screeched to a halt, stuttering over that brief kiss. How the fuck had she forgotten such a basic, stupid fact? The fae could be fooled, because they didn't know her or her relationship with Jareth.

Her parents, on the other hand, thought they were dating, and knew her very well.

Shit, shit, shit.

That said, her parents were used to her being skittish and cold with men. In her experience, they wanted more than she could give. They wanted her to finish with school and not keep working on it, they wanted her to be available for sex, for cleaning, for them to unload their problems. They seldom reciprocated those responsibilities.

She hoped that Jareth didn't expect that for a fake-relationship.

Thinking that brought the kiss he'd dropped on her lips, again and she swallowed hard, tracing a fingertip over her mouth, thinking for a long moment.

It was just two days. She could manage that for two days.

Somehow, she managed to get to her feet, and walked to the sink, bracing her hands on it. When she caught her breath, she got a glass of water and drank the whole thing down, trying to focus on something other than the quick slide of lips on hers, the warmth of his hand on her jaw, the damn smell of him surrounding her.

Rest well, he'd said. How the hell was she supposed to do that when she was spun up over a silly little kiss?!

She scowled, suspecting he'd done it on purpose, and wondered if he was watching her reactions through one of his crystals, like he had when she'd run the Labyrinth. She shook herself, setting the glass by the sink and forced herself to head down the hall. Once she was in the bathroom, she washed her face, relieved that the makeup came off as easily as her own did. She realized, too late, that she was still wearing the stunning emerald jewelry he'd left her for it.

She thought he must have seen it, before he left. Why hadn't he asked for them back? They couldn't be cheap pieces, she was sensitive to sterling silver and white gold. She swallowed hard, pulling a small bowl close and setting those pieces in there, wishing she had a proper way to store the pieces. Then, she started unpinning the complicated hairstyle the goblin had fashioned, putting the beads and silk leaves in the bowl as well, so they wouldn't get lossed or misplaced.

When she went to her room, she carried the bowl with her, looking at the wealth of twinkling green inside it.

She brushed her hair and twisted the disobedient mess into a thick braid, focused on her evening routine. She swapped out her t-shirt for the oversized one she usually slept in, and folded her jeans on the dresser before she climbed into her bed and hid under the covers.

Her brain kept turning that damn kiss over, and she knew she was blushing even now. Her brain wouldn't shut up about it and she spent too much of the evening tossing and turning and trying to restrain the fifteen year old she used to be who had fantasized about what it would be like to be kissed by him.

It was close to dawn when she finally fell into an exhausted, restless sleep, still plagued by memories and dreams.

She woke to the smell of coffee, and she groaned. She climbed from her bed without thought and walked in a half-sleeping state down the hall to the kitchen. It wasn't until Jareth turned and his eyes swept over her that she remembered that she was still wearing only the t-shirt she slept in.

That damn speculative interest in his eyes, and his brow lifted, lips curving up in a smirk.

She wasn't going to grace him with a comment, she decided. She walked straight to the coffee pot and poured herself a cup, her tired brain deciding that if fake-dating Jareth meant coffee every morning, she could deal. She added milk and sugar, then sat at the table, still blinking and bleary-eyed.

"Well, well, precious. I didn't think you'd be so comfortable with the situation this fast," he quipped, still observing her. She blinked slowly, looking back at him. She saw a cup of coffee beside him, and saw he was standing at her stove, cooking once again. From the smell, he was making bacon and eggs. "Certainly not comfortable enough to walk out here nearly naked."

She felt too tired to argue or get flustered with the assessment of her level of dress. "You're the one who pointed out that if we were going to convince my parents we were dating, we'd have to be comfortable around each other. This is what I wear to sleep. So if you could wait until I've got a cup of coffee in me and have enough energy to hiss and spit a little, that'd be cool."

"Would it?" He asked, bringing a plate loaded with bacon and eggs and setting it in front of her. His tone had a teasing edge, but he didn't pursue it further. Instead of saying anything else, immediately, he took the chair across from her, observing her for a long moment. "You seemed exhausted, last evening. Why didn't you sleep well?"

Somehow, she managed to not choke on the bite of eggs she'd just swallowed. When she was sure it was down, she gave him a withering glare. She knew she'd have to come out with some of this, eventually, but she wasn't certain how much she wanted to say, right then. She sat back, pulling her coffee close and ignoring the food, for now. "Maybe you and your kind are comfortable falling into a pillow pit and screwing whoever falls in with them like jackrabbits. I'm not. I have been in a committed relationship with my doctoral dissertation that's been ongoing for the better part of two years. I've slept on it, drooled on it, spilled coffee and food on it. I've even kissed the damn thing when I finished the first draft. But that's been the only relationship I've been in. You surprised me, last night, and my brain decided to be a bastard and overthink it."

Once again, that flash of interest as she spoke, but she refused to read into it. "That's a long time to be without companionship, precious."

Her cheeks started to heat up. She didn't want to talk about this. She didn't have much choice. A sigh escaped her. "Why do you think I've been lying to my parents at this point? They're disappointed that I haven't been 'trying harder' with what relationships I've had before that."

"Why did you finger quote trying harder?" He asked with a smile that looked on the edge of perplexed.

"That's what they call it." She leaned back, tracing her finger over the rim of her coffee cup, hating this subject. She hadn't spoken about these things with anyone, because no one ever seemed to understand. "They think I should be putting in more effort into my relationships, even if my education suffers. I'm taking steps that no one in my family has, before. This is a big deal for me, but they don't understand. It's so much work, even on my time off, I bring the damn thing with me just in case I have a moment to work on it."

She took a long pull off the coffee, and looked him in the eyes. "My younger brother is working on his bachelor's degree, my father spent eight years in school to become a lawyer. No one says a damn thing when they don't have time for their families. It's just me. Or that's how it seems."

He reached over the table, and his hand came to rest on hers. "Are they right?"

"That depends. If a person thinks that a woman is supposed to put in effort every minute of every day for her relationship, and men are allowed to put their careers first, then they're right. However, if women are allowed to put things that are important to them first, then, no. Every man that tried to engage me in a relationship, I warned before I started dating them. I told them that I'm usually too busy with school to give them all my focus. They always pretend that they're fine with it. Then, within a few weeks, they aren't satisfied with how much of my time really is spent on school. I'm not drowning them in my affections every moment we're together, I don't call them every hour of the day. I make it clear that I don't need them. They break up with me, make a few comments about my coldness, and a few admitted that they wanted the challenge of turning my eyes from my work."

He scoffed, and lifted his coffee, taking a long drink before looking her square in the eyes. "So, you give the fools advance notice that they're in competition with something that requires a great deal of your time, and they expect their cock to completely blind you to something you've put a great deal of work on."

"Pretty much."

He shook his head, standing, and she wasn't certain what his agitation was aimed at, her or the men she'd dated. "So that's what your father meant regarding my support of your choices."

As she watched, he filled his cup of coffee again, and brought the carafe over, topping off hers without asking if she wanted more. He didn't speak as he added a bit of sugar and cream before she could stop him. Then, he slipped back into his seat across from her. "Considering how many years my kind can spend studying for their field of choice, I wonder what your parents would think of that."

The slight change of topic surprised her. She'd have thought he'd have considered pursuing the topic of her and her previous relationships. She blinked, lifting her eyes to look at him, again. Whatever conclusions he'd drawn from her story, he was keeping close to his chest. "Oh?"

The smile he gave her was sharp. "Indeed. Schooling starts for most as soon as you're old enough to clasp a pencil in your hand, and depending on the field can go on for the next thirty to fifty years. Even the monarchs require lengthy study if they expect to actually inherit the kingdom of their parents. People intending to learn trades or skills spend their first fifteen or so as mere peons, learning the basics until they know them so well they can do them with their eyes closed. Another ten of a journeymanship, then five more to achieve a title of mastery."

"And monarchs?" She asked, more curious about how that was handled than she expected.

"Similarly, you spend the early years on basic skills. Reading, writing, arithmetic, history. Before you're allowed to move forward, your tutors ensure you're skilled enough at those that you can focus on other skills, like diplomacy, courtly responsibilities, kingdom responsibilities, arts, sciences and magic. The last half of my schooling was spent hopping from court to court, learning geography and local cultures and traditions. I don't think I spent more than five years at a single court during that time. In total, I trained for ninety years before I was allowed to be crowned in the Goblin Kingdom, and that was even with the goblins wanting me to rule them."

Her eyes widened as he went through everything he went through. "So that's why your face was so well known in Gwales."

"Indeed. Georgine and her consort tried very hard to keep me there longer than five years, but they were a restrictive bunch, and I wanted to move on very early."

She shook her head, and sighed. "Your family doesn't complain that you aren't working harder to make them grandparents?"

He laughed, a surprised bark that he lifted a hand to smother. "Of course not. My parents were the former king and queen of the Goblin Kingdom. They know when I'm ready to have progeny, I'll do so, but they're also aware that the responsibilities of the kingdom aren't always as simple as other kingdoms. We have closer relations with the Above, due to the nature of our work. We're also a revolving door of children. No, they know quite well that when I've settled, found a queen who can handle the amount of work required, and she and I are both ready, children will happen in time. I'm still in my prime, and I'm in no hurry."

She blinked, surprised, then gave a quiet laugh and shook her head. "So you're saying it's been awhile since you were in a real relationship, too, and for similar reasons. That's a damn weird coincidence, your majesty. The two of us in similar circumstances at the same time." She finally lifted her coffee, worried it would be too sweet or too creamy, and was surprised to find it was exactly how she liked it. She glanced at him over the rim of the cup for a long moment, considering that.

He'd seen her dress her coffee twice before. And he'd taken a half-filled cup, and got it exactly right. That was a scary level of observation.

He tilted his head, his lips curving into a smirk. "Fate can be a bit of a bastard, yes. I found the irony of the situation entertaining. However, I'll not deny that you seem to be precisely what I need for these celebrations. And if you can stand the intimacy with me for your parents' benefit, I assure you I can play my part quite well."

She gave a sigh. "Then we're going to need to get a story straight."

"Story?"

She looked him in the eye. "At some point over those two days, my parents will separate us and try to pump each of us for information. The more we can cover over the next two days, the more of a fake life we can build in advance, the less likely that they find weak spots and poke massive holes in it."

He met her gaze, and his lips curved further. "And we have to be able to feign intimacy well enough that they think we're sleeping together."

She felt that heat back in her cheeks again, and she rubbed the back of her neck to avoid looking at him for a moment. "Yes, that too."

"In that case, my dear, I have a suggestion." She glanced at him and watched him lean forward, snagging a piece of her bacon before she could object. She couldn't help watch as he lifted it to his lips and ate it, clearly relishing it, or enjoying the fact that she couldn't quite stop watching. "We have to actually sleep in the same bed before we go visit them."

She sputtered, eyes shooting wide. She swallowed hard, setting her coffee cup on the table and trying hard to not think too much about what a bad idea sharing a bed with the Goblin King would be. It made sense, especially considering that she was uncomfortable with casual intimacy after how long it had been. A groan left her and she leaned forward, smacking her head against the table, several times.

Jareth was quiet for a long moment, but when he spoke, his voice held a thread of amusement. "Sarah, as evidenced by last evening, we work well together. Whatever this is, it needs to appear real enough to fool your parents. If you'd like, you can ground yourself on the fact that unless you ask me to, I don't intend to fuck you."

The word was obscene and unexpected, and she jerked upright to stare at him for it. She didn't have any designs in that direction in the first place, so it startled her. His expression reminded her of that amusement he'd had in her parents bedroom when she was fifteen, almost patronizing, smug, sardonic.

"Alright, I didn't expect you to put it quite that way," she admitted when her brain stopped being stuck on him saying the word in his smooth tone.

He shrugged, then, with a wave of his hand, a thick sheaf of bound paper landed on the table near her plate. "The contract as promised."

She looked from the plate of food to the contract and sighed to herself. "Okay. Food, first. Then I'll start reading that."

He got to his feet with his coffee, his expression not changing. "In that case, my dear, I'll make myself comfortable and we can discuss anything about it when you've finished breakfast."

She watched as he walked away, then pulled the plate of food forward, trying to not think too much. She liked that he didn't ask permission, but she wasn't certain why that was. A glance in his direction found him stretched out on her couch and she felt her face flame red when she saw he had the book he'd taken out and open, appearing engrossed in it. Forcing her attention to her food, she tried to not choke on it as she ate. She would do her best to pretend that she didn't know that Jareth was reading an explicit and erotic romance novel on her couch that involved themes that previous boyfriends would never know of her interest in.

She finished the bacon and eggs, drank her coffee, and got up to get herself another cup. Before she sat down, she considered for a moment, then moved towards Jareth, lifting the carafe. "Do you want more?"

His eyes snapped from the book and met hers. There was that look, again, that interest as his eyes swept down her and back up. Then, his eyes focused on the carafe, and he gave a nod, extending his own cup towards her. "Please."

She shook herself, trying to ignore the fact that he'd just thoroughly undressed her with his eyes and trying very hard to not think about what the speculative interest in his eyes meant. She topped off his cup and fled back to the kitchen table, trying to not let her retreat look hasty regardless of the speed.

Jareth's awareness of her interest in subjects of pain and pleasure were safer, she thought, than her boyfriends knowing about it. As weird as it was, she trusted him to keep his word. Unless she asked for it, he wouldn't step outside of the contract that sat on the table. She shivered, pushing that thought and the fleeting memory of the kiss the night before from her mind, pulling the contract close and reading.

His hand was clear and concise, not a stroke of the pen wasted, not a single word second guessed. Regardless, the legalese reminded her of a few of the theses she'd helped grade for her professors. It was just as long, as well. The arrangement itself was simple, but he seemed to have considered everything. A fair bit of it was consequences if either side violated the terms of the arrangement. Other sections were regarding changes to the contract, if it came to that, contract extensions, if they were needed, and finally the signatory page.

By the time she reached that point, the words were bleeding together, and she couldn't focus on them. Her third cup of coffee was almost empty.

She got to her feet, pouring herself another cup, and went to her school bag, digging through to find a black pen. When she turned back, she found Jareth's eyes on her again. She gave herself a quick shake and went back to the contract on the table.

"You seem distracted, my dear? Is something wrong?"

"I've had an easier time reading people's master's theses for grading than I'm having with this contract. I'm on my fourth cup of coffee, didn't sleep well, and the words are bleeding together."

He glanced at the clock on her wall, and got to his feet. "It's also been three hours since you finished breakfast. What do you want to eat?"

She blinked, looking at him. "Eat?"

He paused, giving her another one of those patient looks. "Yes, my dear. Eat. Humans need to do that regularly to maintain their energy and health. My kind do it more for pleasure than anything else, but even we require some sustenance."

She wasn't certain how to explain to him that she only ever ate once a day most days, because she'd get distracted or forget. In fact, she'd had more food yesterday between the omelette and the food he'd given her at the ball than she'd had in a day in several months. "Oh, I'm not -"

"What part of that sounded optional, my dear? You're going to eat something." He swept past her into the kitchen, going through her cabinets and finding her bread and peanut butter. He paused, giving her a long look that was just on the edge of bossy. "Perhaps your father's desire for you to have a lover has more to do with you needing a keeper, as opposed to his desire for grandchildren."

She flushed, sputtered and started to get to her feet. "Jareth -"

"Just sit down and relax. I'll make you a sandwich."

Pushy and bossy to a fault, she noted, feeling her lips pinch. She wasn't certain if she liked being steamrolled in her own apartment, but he wasn't leaving her room to wiggle around it. She flopped back in her chair and frowned. "I don't eat very often. It's not a big deal."

"My dear, this isn't a discussion I'll have with you. I'm making you something to eat. Plan on me taking you to dinner tonight - call it a fake date if you wish, we still need to work on that story of yours. Before dinner, I'll need to go and check on my kingdom and make certain my goblins haven't gotten into too much trouble without my constant supervision."

At least she'd have some time today without him being bossy and insufferable, she thought, giving him a sour look. Still, it was a sort of nice change of pace. Usually, if she wanted to eat, she'd have to pull her attention from her work to take care of herself. And here he was, doing that without complaint. "You're a bully."

"Not a bully - a King." He turned back towards her, his gaze meeting hers and looking entirely unrepentant. "And I expect you to listen.

She bristled at that and was still bristling when he brought her the sandwich, setting it on the table in front of her. She swallowed hard, forcing herself to meet his gaze. "I'm not a damn child, Jareth."

He leaned forward, one hand on the back of her chair, the other resting on the table, almost trapping her there. His lips twisted into another of those sardonic smiles, then his eyes ran up and down her, once again. "Do tell, Sarah. I hadn't noticed."

His tone made her bristle, but before she could respond, he straightened, walking away. She was still muttering when he returned, setting a glass of water in front of her.

She glared at the sandwich, and pouted when her stomach actually growled. With a huff, she turned towards the food, giving it her attention. "I don't need a keeper. I've been living on my own for years and I'm doing just fine."

"I never said you did, I said that might be what your father thought. But if I'm going to be your significant other - pretend or not - then you need to understand that I will still be the keeper you don't profess to need. At least for the duration of this arrangement. That means you will eat regular meals, get adequate sleep, and if you have the sniffles, I'll make you rest as well."

"I can't afford to rest, I have school."

His smile was that patient one, again. "What part of my ability to literally reorder time if needed is confusing you?"

She stopped, remembering that from their conversations the night before and she looked at him, eyes narrowing as if she could see if he was being serious. Damn him for sweetening this deal with that. Rather than arguing, she picked up the sandwich, taking a bite and glaring at him over the bread.

The ripe bastard laughed, again, but his smile was so handsome, she found she couldn't even get angry with him for it.