A/N: Shenanigans galore!

PART THREE
Date Night

The first month Jareth had invaded her home, Sarah ranted and raved until she lost her voice. The second month, she tried to ignore Jareth and the goblins completely while looking for a way to give them the heave-ho. Turned out that the Goblin King wasn't a Fae, Sidhe, Imp, Brownie, Pixie, or any other magical creature she had studied. The third month, life reached a new kind of (crazy) normal for Sarah. She knew whenever she walked out of her room in the morning she'd most likely find Jareth sprawled on the couch, tapping his heeled boot with a riding crop (Sarah stopped trying to figure out what his deal was with that thing) as the goblins ran around, dismantling the house and the various items in it.

The morning conversation with Jareth had become routine as well:

"Sleep well, love? Dream of me?"

"Get out."

"No."

"Had to try."

"It was a worthy, if half-hearted attempt."

Then it was coffee, shower, and work in her studio. She had even gotten used to the way he could be so close to her without actually touching her. (He never broke that rule, though his raw sexuality and constant close proximity often tempted her to break it.) Sarah was reminded of a younger Toby who would torment her by sticking his finger near her arm while gleefully chanting, "I'm not touching you! I'm not touching you!" Fortunately, her little brother had grown out of that game. Maybe the Goblin King would too.

Sarah stopped sketching and laughed. Jareth was probably centuries old—considering he hadn't aged a day since she first met him—and there was no way he was growing out of anything. She put down the charcoal she was using, wiped her hands on the damp cloth hanging on the edge of the easel,and cursed when she saw what she had been absently drawing.

It was a ballroom scene, just like the one from her peach-induced dream, complete with her in Jareth's arms. Only this time, she wore a more sophisticated dress—less fluffy. Her face in the image lacked the roundness of youth, and instead she looked more like a regal princess—maybe even a queen. Sarah's skin prickled with gooseflesh.

She felt Jareth's presence before he spoke, the heat of his body warming her back. Since the unicorn incident, though the goblins were still banned from her studio, Jareth had started showing up from time to time to watch her work. Sarah had grown accustomed to that as well.

"I was always fond of that particular dream of yours," he said. "Your talent in the arts knows no bounds, Sarah."

"It's just a sketch." She shrugged, reaching up to tear the sheet off and throw it away.

"Would you give it to me?"

Sarah's first instinct was to say no, but it was a harmless enough request. It wasn't like he was asking her to do a nude of him. Not that she ever would. Nope. Not even to see how well built the rest of his slender body was. Or to see if that bulge was… Definitely, definitely not.

"Well?" There was a hint of impatience in his voice.

"What? Oh." She blushed and tore the page from the tablet and held it out to him. "Here you go."

He disappeared as soon as he took it from her, and Sarah slouched in her stool. From the corner of her eye, she saw something that hadn't been there before. A bouquet of honeysuckles sat on the small table next to her easel. How had he found out they were her favorite flowers? She grinned. It was sweet—in an I-live-with-my-stalker kind of way.

Since Sarah had begun to accept her new living arrangements, Jareth had seemed far less…villainous. She could see now that he was trying to woo her in his mysterious immortal magical being way, but to what end? Did he really want her for his queen? Or was this another game—one that was only about sex?

She could no longer deny that she was attracted to him. She could even admit that she'd never experienced this kind of yearning for any other man she'd ever dated. But attraction did not mean love, and while she might want Jareth's body (and how she wanted it!), she couldn't imagine running away with him to the Underground.

Unfortunately, despite her sound reasoning, it was still difficult not to want to give into Mr. Tight-Pants—not when he was living with her, tempting her at every turn. He was the flame and she was the helpless moth.

And that was why she had a date tonight. She needed to get out of the house, meet other normal guys, and extricate herself from the web of raging attraction that Jareth was entangling her in.

Sarah took as many precautions as she could to avoid Jareth finding out what she was up to. She hated having to sneak around like this, but there was no way he'd let her go without reigning mischief on her night out.

"And where are we off to this evening?" Jareth said as she made for the door.

She didn't lookback at him when she lied. "We aren't going anywhere. I'm meeting with a new author to discuss my next project. And by staying away, you are going to ensure that I don't lose the job." Before he could respond, she closed the door and leaned against it, trying to quell the feeling that she was betraying him somehow.

Sarah scoffed. Betray Jareth? He was the one who had tricked her! She was not beholden to him in any way. The niggling feeling stuck with her, though, churning her stomach as she went to meet with Brian.

Dinner was…okay. Brian was a nice enough guy, but he had taken her to out for Chinese—not her favorite ethnic food—and that was the first strike against him. He wasn't funny and engaging like Erik had been (who wasn't real, she had to keep reminding herself) nor was he clever and seductive like Jareth (who was all too real). Strike two. She found Brian to be, well, bland, but did her best to give him a fighting chance. At least he didn't make her pay for dinner, or tell her that he was really some brooding superhero.

The next stop after dinner was the bowling alley. That looked promising. It had been years since Sarah bowled; she used to enjoy it with her high school pals. Maybe Brian would be less wooden after a few frames. He really was a decent guy. Solid. Not flamboyant, arrogant, spoiled, or mischievous. Brian was the kind of man a girl ought to want to be with. And Sarah was sure if she kept telling herself that, she just might believe it, too.

She had just taken off her shoes when she heard the familiar voice of her troublesome roommate. An odd mixture of relief and trepidation washed over her as she looked up to find Jareth in full Erik-the-best-blind-date-ever-until-the-end regalia down to the Doc Martens.

"Sarah? Sarah Williams?" He was wearing a lopsided grin, looking genuinely surprised to see her there. "I thought that was you."

She pasted a smile on her face. If he wanted to play, then she could too. "Oh, hi! Fancy meeting you here!" Okay, maybe that was a little over-the-top.

Brian stepped up next to her. "Who's this, Sarah?"

Jareth stuck out his hand. "I'm sorry, where are my manners? I'm Erik. Erik Turner."

"Ah, hi. Brian Sanderson," Brian replied, shaking Jareth's hand.

There was an uncomfortable moment of silence, and Sarah gave Jareth her best I'm-seriously-going-to-murder-you-when-we-get-home-then-bring-you-back-to-life-so-I-can-kill-you-again glare. He winked at her in response.

"So, um, great to see you again, Jar—Erik," Sarah said through her fake smile. "I'm sure you have some place to be."

Jareth shrugged. "That's the rub. I was planning on spending the evening with someone special, but it appears that she's given me the slip." He looked at Brian. "Don't you hate it when that happens?"

Brian chuckled. "Yeah, it does suck."

"I'm stuck without company for the evening, and isn't it just fortuitous that I run into an old friend of mine and her…companion?" Jareth gave them both a brilliant smile to cover the faintly disgusted he look he had when saying that last word. "Would it be too terribly intrusive of me to beg you to let me in on a game or three? It would be a salve for my wounded heart." He glanced at Sarah with a mournful expression.

Sarah blurted out, "No, you can't!" the same time that Brian said, "Sure, why not?"

Brian turned to her. "Oh come on, Sarah. You and I can go out another time. I'd love to meet a friend of yours."

"Yes, Sarah," Jareth interjected, "you wouldn't want to abandon your old pal in his time of need, would you, dear friend?"

Sarah looked back and forth between the two men, entertaining the idea of walking away altogether. "Sure," she said against her better judgment. This was not going to end well at all.

Jareth sat down next to her, holding a pair of bowling shoes that she was sure he hadn't been before. She gave him a scowl before slipping her own on.

"So, how do you two know each other?" Brian asked.

"Oh, Sarah and I have quite the history." Jareth waved his hand. "We're roommates."

"In college!" Sarah cut in. "We were roommates in college."

Brian's eyes widened. "You two were roommates?"

Sarah shot Jareth another dirty look. "It was totally platonic—"

"Except for that one night, right love?"

"—Erik's gay!"

"If we're being perfectly honest—"

"Let's not."

"—I'm not gay at all. I just said that so she'd let me stay at her place. It was the only room for rent near campus."

"But I wasn't attracted to him like that."

"Really, Sarah. Let's stop pretending that nothing happened between us."

"I'm not pretending! Nothing happened!"

"The lady doth protest too much, doesn't she? She really is quite the minx once you get her motor running, if you catch my meaning."

"He's yanking your chain, Brian!" Was that desperation in her voice? Yes. Yes, it was.

Brian stood, gaping at both of them. "I think I'll go find a bowling ball."

"You were so not invited!" Sarah hissed when her date was out of earshot.

Jareth smirked. "Public place, remember?" With a wave of his hand his shoes changed from the Doc Martens to the appropriate bowling paraphernalia. "I'm not the one who has some explaining to do. Mr. Sanderson, whose illustrious career is to sell copy paper, is no author. He lacks the imagination." Jareth raised a brow. "You lied to me, Sarah."

She shoved away the guilt that spiked with his accusation. "I lied because I had to. You never leave me alone."

"Oh, please." He snorted. "Tell me that you prefer that drab fellow's company to mine and I'll disappear."

"I prefer Brian's company to yours." The words came out in a tumble, and Sarah tried to meet his gaze to reinforce the sincerity she didn't feel.

Jareth didn't budge. Not even a hint of sparkly dust.

"Well," she said, "disappear already."

He shook his head. "A worthy, but half-hearted attempt, Precious." He was playing the how-close-can-I-get-without-actually-touching game again. "You have to actually mean what you say."

"You mean like when I wished Toby away? Because I totally meant that." She rolled her eyes.

Jareth laughed. "Oh, you did. Deny it until the end of time, but deep down you know in that moment you truly wanted him gone—no matter the regret you felt but minutes later." He looked away, and Sarah followed his gaze to find her date making his way back to them. "But we shall have to save this discussion for later, when ignorant ears cannot overhear."

"I see you two got your balls already," Brian said as he walked up.

Sarah glanced at the ball return and found two sitting on the machine where there hadn't been any before. One was huge, cobalt blue and sparkly—obviously Jareth's. Hers was dainty and pink. Pink! She hated pink.

"Yes, it takes so long for Sarah to discover what she truly wants," Jareth said to Brian, "but in the end I think she made the right choice."

"Uh huh." Brian looked bewildered. "I'll just put our names into the computer."

Sarah kept up her fake smile as she spoke out of the corner of her mouth. "Stop it."

"Make me," replied Jareth in a low voice.

"Could you be any more juvenile?"

"I'm just following your lead, precious."

Spending three hours bowling with her date and her magical stalker could possibly have topped Sarah's personal list of most awkward situations of all time. It certainly wasn't her best first date—that honor went to Jareth (under the guise of Erik). It wasn't her worst first date either—that honor went to Jareth as well. The Goblin King was on his best behavior, for the most part. Brian seemed taken with him—no surprise there—and somehow managed to miss every double-entendre that Jareth threw in Sarah's direction. She, on the other hand, didn't miss a single one.

Sarah almost felt like a third wheel, the way the two men were enjoying each other's company. In fact, Brian acted as if he were hanging with his best bud and his best bud's girl. Yes, Jareth had somehow maneuvered the situation to his advantage—as always.

Jareth gave her a bright Erik-smile after he threw a second strike in the tenth frame. Sarah grinned in return, even though she was supposed to be angry with him for ruining her date. But he hadn't really ruined it, had he? Not when the date was turning out to be a snooze-fest—no offense to Brian. Jareth's unwanted presence had merely spiced up an otherwise flavorless night.

Brian's voice cut into her thoughts. "So, who's up for another game?"

There was no way that Sarah was going to prolong this evening any further. "I think I'm going to have to pass," she said, faking a yawn. "I'm getting a little tired."

Jareth gave her a knowing smile. "It seems we wore the lady out, Brian. And I'll admit that I'm ready to retire my bowling ball as well."

Brian's disappointment seemed more directed at Jareth than Sarah, and she had to keep from glowering. Yes, her date had completely forgotten that he was supposed to be wooing her and not angling for more guy-time with the charming Brit known as Erik Turner.

"I guess I should take you back to your car, Sarah," Brian said. Oh good, at least he remembered that much.

Jareth spoke up before Sarah could reply. "Actually, Brian, if you wouldn't mind, I'd like to have that honor."

Sarah opened her mouth to object only to be cut off by Brian. "Yeah, I'm sure you two have lots of catching up to do."

Jareth shook Brian's hand. "Indeed. Thank you for understanding."

Sarah made a strangled sound as Brian walked away without so much as an "I'll call you later." Not that she wanted to go out with him again—not unless she was suffering from insomnia—but it was the principle of the thing, for crying out loud!

"Now wasn't that far more pleasant than your having to reject him for another date?"

She gave Jareth a flat look. "What makes you think I wasn't having a great time with Brian?"

His smile turned smirkish. "You've already lied to me once this evening, Sarah."

She wanted to deny it, but Jareth was right, and she wasn't in the mood to fight—at least not about this. "Fine. You win. Brian wasn't my soulmate. Happy now?" Well, she didn't have to like that he was right.

"Ah,the sweet flavor of victory." Jareth offered his arm to her. "Shall we?"

Sarah stared at his arm as if it were a snake about to bite. It disturbed her that she wanted to take it, that it felt natural to be escorted by him. If she took his arm, was that an invitation, even if she hadn't said the words? Why had everything become so complicated with Jareth? She missed simpler times when he was merely the villain, easily despised—a nemesis to be defeated.

Now… Now Sarah didn't know what he was to her.

"Well, love?"

Sarah almost laughed with relief at the irritation in Jareth voice. It was comforting for an inexplicable reason, and it broke the tension of the moment.

"Let's get me to my car." She walked past him to the exit, not looking back to see if he followed.

"Oh, I have no intention of doing any such thing," he said against her ear. How did he do that without touching her? "The night is young yet. We're going to make the most of it."

She nearly bumped his nose when she turned to face him. "I don't think so, love. I'll walk to my car if I have to." Mentally, she cursed herself for speaking before thinking. Was she really going to trudge three miles to the restaurant in the darkness to avoid spending the rest of the evening with Jareth?

"Really, Sarah. You are stubborn to a fault." He crossed his arms and frowned down at her.

She graced him with a smirk of her own. "For my will is as strong as yours, remember?"

"Thank you for bringing up such painful memories." Jareth scowled. "Your thoughtfulness astounds me." He took several steps into the parking lot before turning around. "However, I think that you'll want to take me up on my offer, as your vehicle now rests in our driveway. Then again, they do say that vigorous exercise is good for the mortal body."

Sarah did a quick mental calculation. Her walk had gone from three miles to nearly fifteen.

"Jareth! Wait!"

"Here? You're taking me here?" Sarah stared up at the flickering neon sign. They were parked outside of the same karaoke bar that Jareth had taken her to on their blind date.

"You seemed to enjoy it last time."

Sarah had to wait until he opened her door to reply. "That was before I knew you were…you. You know, when you tricked me."

Jareth clucked his tongue. "You have such a long memory for perceived ills, and yet so easily forget my generosity." He held up a hand when she started to retort. "Let's call a truce for now."

She pursed her lips, trying to figure out what new angle he was working. "Truce, then—for now."

He grinned. "Shall we exchange a token to mark our tenuous agreement? A kiss perhaps?"

Sarah wagged her finger at him. "Nice try, Goblin King." Good grief, but he was incorrigible.

Jareth shrugged and opened the door. They hardly crossed the threshold when someone yelled, "Hey! It's Erik!" Within seconds they were swarmed by the people in the bar, leaving the singer—a woman who was screeching, rather than singing, a Janis Joplin song—to serenade empty chairs.

Sarah had to raise her voice above the crowd chanting "Sing! Sing!" to get Jareth's attention. "They remember you from that one visit?"

Instead of answering, he offered her his hand. As the throng threatened to engulf Jareth, she hesitated only a second, reminding herself that she wasn't giving him verbal permission. His warm, slender fingers interlaced with hers when she reached for him, and he began pulling her through the group. Once they were free, he didn't drop her hand, and she found she didn't mind. They had a truce, after all, right?

"All right!" Jareth raised his free hand and the bar fell silent—even the woman on stage. "If I sing, I'll want your word that you'll allow my lady love and I some privacy—especially you, Tammy." He pointed to the buxom blond who had accosted him the last time he and Sarah were here.

"Hey, Freddie! Erik's gonna sing!" one of the men yelled to the DJ. Sarah winced at the din of cheers that filled the small establishment.

Jareth led her to a table in the back corner, releasing her hand to pull out a chair for her. She looked up at him. "Tammy?"

"A woman who lacks the intellect to understand when a man would rather bathe in the Bog of Eternal Stench than give her a second look." He glanced at the blond with disdain.

Sarah shook her head. "But you know her name…and everybody knows yours—or at least your fake name."

He flashed a rueful grin, and with his Erik-the-best-first-date-ever-until-the-end guise, Sarah could almost forget that he was the Goblin King. "I've visited a few times since our first date."

"A few times?" Sarah snorted in disbelief.

"Duty calls, love." He backed away, ignoring her question. "The same rules apply as before."

"Rules? What rules?" Sarah called after him.

He cocked his head to the side. "I expect your critique to include rabid gushing and adoration of my musical abilities. Though, for the sake of our recent cease-fire, you might consider avoiding mockery." He leapt on stage and murmured something to the DJ before taking the microphone.

Sarah wondered what he would sing, since he was in charge of the selection this time. Although, in retrospect, there was a very good chance that he'd had a hand in his song choice the first time. "I Touch Myself"? Oh yeah, that had Jareth written all over it. What was next? "I'm Too Sexy"?

The music started without any introduction from Jareth. Instead,his eyes were closed and his head bowed. The back-up singers on the track blared through the speakers: "Oh oh oh ohh Little China girl. Oh oh oh ohh Little China girl."

People in the bar started whooping and cheering. Apparently the song was a favorite, though Sarah wasn't familiar with it.

Jareth brought the microphone up and fixed her with an intense gaze. "I could escape this feeling," he sang, "with my mortal girl. I feel a wreck without my little mortal girl."

Sarah had thought when he sang the Divinyls song his voice was sultry, but that was nothing compared to this. Chills swept over her skin as he kept his eyes on her, singing as if the sound of his rich voice could woo her into bed with him. It wasn't far from the truth. Ugh. Dumb hormones.

"I hear our hearts beating as loud as thunder. I saw the stars crashing down."

The memory of Jareth's castle in pieces, hanging in the air at their final confrontation flashed across Sarah's mind with the lyrics. She remembered how her heart had pounded then. Did his as well? She shook the thought from her mind. This was Jareth, after all. The man's picture was in the dictionary under the definition of self-confidence.

"I stumble in the Aboveground just like a lost owl, visions of crystal balls in my head. Plans for everyone—it's in the whites of my eyes."

Jareth stepped down from the stage and slowly made his way to their table, his eyes never leaving hers. "My little mortal girl, you should run away with me. I'll give you everything you want. Give you Valentine evenings. Paint you mornings of gold. I'll give you a throne to rule the world."

He turned away and headed back toward the stage. "And when I get excited, my little mortal girl says"—he glanced back over his shoulder—"Oh baby, just you shut your mouth."

A shiver went down Sarah's spine. She looked down to make sure he hadn't just sung her clothes off right then and there.

"He's sooooo good!" Sarah jumped at the voice. Tammy stood next to her, holding a daiquiri that sloshed over her hand as she gestured toward Jareth. "I think he changed the words a little. Erik is divine, isn't he?"

Jareth had made it back to the stage and was looking daggers at the blond even as he kept singing. "She says 'shhhhhhhh.' She says—Tammy, leave my little mortal girl alone. She says 'shhhhhhh.' She says—back away now, Tammy, or face my wrath. She says…"

Tammy snorted. "He's a divine asshole, anyway," she muttered before staggering off.

Sarah laughed. Divine asshole. The girl may be missing a few brain cells, but she nailed Jareth down perfectly.

Before the tinny back-up singers finished the song, people were yelling for an encore. Jareth held up his hand. "Maybe later, loves." When protests rose from the crowd, he said, "You gave your word." He handed the microphone back to Freddie and jumped off the stage with the grace of a dancer.

"I'm ready for my critique now," he said when he sat down next to Sarah. "Remember our truce."

Sarah rolled her eyes, but smiled. "I suppose it was better than 'I Touch Myself.'" She was not about to confess that his voice had filled her head with thoughts that would make a sailor blush.

"High praise indeed." He leaned back and propped his feet up on the table. After three months—nearly four now—of living with him, Sarah decided that it was physically impossible for Jareth to sit like a normal person for any length of time. Then again, there was nothing normal about Jareth, and he wasn't really a person either.

Tammy took the stage and it was obvious that her song was directed at Jareth. "Turn down the lights, turn down the bed. Turn down these voices inside my head…"

Jareth narrowed his eyes and made a derisive sound. "Every time. The blasted girl sings that song every time."

"'Cause I can't make you love me if you don't," Tammy crooned. "I can't make your heart feel something it won't…" Sarah thought the blond would actually be pretty good, if she didn't slur so much.

"How does it feel to have your own stalker?" Sarah asked, unable to resist the barb.

Jareth turned his mismatched eyes to her. "You can't seriously be lumping me in with the likes of her."

"Why not? You both have trouble getting a clue."

"OH, my wounded heart! How much more must it suffer from your cruelty?" Jareth smirked. "You are forgetting one important distinction between myself and that rubbish on stage, Precious."

Tammy was working up to her grand finale now. "I'll lay down my heart and I'll feel the power, but you won't. No, you wooooooooooon't…."

Sarah rolled her eyes. "And what distinction would that be?"

Jareth leaned toward her and dropped his voice. "Underneath your denial, Sarah, you want me, body and soul." He settled back in his chair and waved toward Tammy. "Whereas I feel nothing but disgust for that pitiful creature."

"That was for you, Erik, baby!" the blond yelled. Sarah cringed at the feedback from the speakers. "Call me…please. I love you!" Freddie had to wrest the microphone from her and escort her offstage.

"Wow." Sarah turned back to Jareth. "What did you do to the poor girl?"

"Me? I've done nothing but discourage her delusions. I have used not one whit of my charm and charisma on her." He tapped his chin. "Though, there is one thing I haven't attempted."

"What? Give her nightmares of you?" Sarah asked. "That would definitely make her back off."

"Hm. Your suggestion has merit, but, unfortunately, those are not the kind of dreams I oversee." He raised a brow. "I've no power over the silly imaginings of the subconscious."

"You don't?" Well, crud. She couldn't keep blaming him for those rather erotic dreams she'd been having lately.

Jareth shook his head. "No. The dreams that I have authority over are the deepest desires of the mortal heart."

His words washed over her with an icy chill. Was he playing her again? Or did that mean he could see every wish, every desire she had?

"These are on the house, Erik. Nice job tonight, by the way."

The waitress walked away before Sarah could register her presence. She had been so engrossed in her conversation with Jareth that she had forgotten for a moment that they were sitting in a bar—a loud one at that.

Jareth picked up his drink—scotch on the rocks, it looked like—and took a sip. His expression was thoughtful. "I'm wondering if you would deign to do me a favor, Sarah."

"Depends on the favor." Sarah was still processing what they'd been talking about before the waitress had interrupted. She didn't touch her glass of pinot noir. Drinking alcohol while in Jareth's company was risky business. Who knew what kind of invitations she would toss at him without the benefit of her inhibitions?

"Would you mind at least pretending to be my lover?"

Sarah's jaw dropped. "Wh—what?"

"To save me from the unwanted attentions of that drunken fool of a woman." He gave her a pointed look when she balked. "I did rescue you from Brian. It seems only fair that you do me the same honor."

She narrowed her eyes. "If this is some trick to get me—"

"I assure you I am quite sincere."

"—to give you permission… What?"

Jareth smiled. "This is no ploy, Sarah, as tempted as I am to abuse this opportunity." He moved his chair closer to hers. "You don't have to speak the words. I merely ask for you to…fawn over me, perhaps rest your beautiful head on my shoulder." He glanced past her and frowned. "The sooner, the better."

Sarah twisted in her chair and saw Tammy crossing the room toward them. The woman really didn't know when to quit, did she? Sarah felt a stab of sympathy for Jareth, and the thought made her laugh. What a ridiculous notion—feeling sorry for her stalker getting stalked. And yet, Sarah did have the better end of the deal as stalkees went. At least her prowler was intelligent, witty, handsome, and damn sexy. Tammy, on the other hand, was none of those. The Goblin King deserved better.

Sarah laughed again at her questionable rationale. "All right." She turned back to Jareth. "But only this once. Anything I do or allow you to do is not considered an invitation or consent of any kind—and no kissing. As soon as we leave this bar, all bets are off and we go back to the same rules as before."

"Agreed." Jareth closed the rest of the distance between them and wrapped his arm around her. "Follow my lead," he whispered.

Sarah laid her head against his chest. It felt comfortable—not at all awkward—and that unsettled her further. Things were definitely changing between them, and she wasn't sure how she felt about it.

"Did you like my song, Erik?" Tammy's speech was even more slurred than before. "I sang it for you."

Jareth tightened his arm around Sarah. "As you always do, unfortunately." The disdain was evident in his tone. "Tammy, do you remember Sarah?"

Tammy's eyes flicked to Sarah then back to Jareth. "She came with you the first time you were here, right?"

"Yes." Jareth's chest vibrated with his reply. Sarah mentally kicked herself for liking it. "And do you know what Sarah is to me?"

"Your sister?" There was a hopeful note in Tammy's question.

Jareth barked a laugh. "Oh, you dear deluded girl. Sarah is to be my wife, Tammy. Do you understand what that means?"

Sarah resisted her instinct to deny Jareth's statement. Instead she snuggled closer to him, reaching up to hold the hand that rested against her shoulder. She was going to do her best to keep up her end of the bargain to hurry this along, and try not think too much about the fact that she felt so at home in Jareth's arms.

Tammy's face fell. "Soooooooooo… Sarah's your…fiancé?"

Geez, the girl was slow. Sarah found herself as impatient as she was sure Jareth was. Wake up and smell the rejection already, Blondie.

"Yes, but she's so much more than that," Jareth said. "I gave my heart to her—irrevocably and eternally. No matter how much cleavage you thrust in my face, or how many songs you dedicate to me, I cannot give you what no longer belongs to me."

Sarah's heart fluttered with his words. She couldn't be faulted for that, though—not when he was being that romantic. Any woman would swoon to hear those words. And Sarah was not swooning. Besides, she reminded herself, this was all fake anyway—no matter how sincere he sounded.

Confusion washed over Tammy's face. "But you're not married, right?"

You have got to be kidding me! Sarah's exasperation reached an apex, and she sat up, fixing the other women with a death-glare. Jareth's method wasn't working; it was time to try the jealous girlfriend angle. "Don't you get it? He's not interested in you—he'll never be interested in you. Jar—Erik is mine and he'll always be mine. Is that clear enough for you?"

Sarah stood, jabbing a finger at Tammy. "Stay away from my man. Don't sing for him, don't look at him, don't even thinkabout him when you're alone in your room at night. If you make a pass at my man again—even if I'm not around—so help me, I'll have him throw you into an oubliette for the rest of your pathetic life!"

Tammy's eyes were as wide as saucers, and Sarah could see the fear in them. "Okay, okay," the blond said as she backed away. "Message received, loud and clear. What the hell is an oubliette anyway?"

Sarah watched Tammy slink to the other side of the bar. "Good riddance to bad rubbish." She plopped back in her chair and glanced at Jareth with a snarky comment at the tip of her tongue, but bit it back when she saw his expression. It was a look of unadulterated admiration and open affection, and it gave her another round of goosebumps.

"That was quite impressive." He drew her to him. "And I daresay it worked. You have my gratitude." He stroked his fingers through her hair.

"Hey." She pushed against him but he didn't let go. "Mission accomplished. Back to the old rules, buddy."

His grin transformed into a Jareth-smirk. "Not so, Sarah. You specifically said our bargain ends when we leave this establishment, not a moment before. I intend to hold you to your word."

Sarah surprised herself by laughing. She should be angry that he had found a way to trick her yet again, but she didn't feel all that slighted. Besides, a girl could use a little innocent snuggle once in a while—even if it was with the Goblin King.

She stayed in his arms until last call, snickering at his dry wit as he mocked the tone-deaf singers onstage. If she was reluctant to let go of his hand when they stepped outside, well, so what? It didn't mean that she was falling for him.

Right?

A/N: Thank you for reading! I hope this is catching you on a good day. If not, I hope this has made a little bit better.