"It's when we get into bed with our enemies that we find out who our friends are."
Anthony T. Hincks
Sarah arrived at the only possible conclusion. Her entire family conspired against her.
Faced with the acute possibility she was about to be alone with her old nemesis, who seemed very much interested in making her squirm AND abusing the vital minimal touching rule, Sarah began to panic in earnest.
"I could always sleep in Toby's room. Give us a chance to catch up?"
"Gross." Toby tossed half a cookie at her. "You're my sister."
"Different beds, weirdo."
"You're still a girl! A girl who is related to me. My room is a 'male only space'." He framed the words with his hands proudly.
Robert put down his drink. He looked between the two, concern creasing her brow. "Is there a problem, Sarah?"
Oh so many things, dad. Sarah blanked. "Um… no… just… snoring. Snoring."
"It's true. Sarah snores," Jareth explained, a look of indulgence on his face. "She's so terribly embarrassed though I've told her it doesn't bother me in the least."
Karen nodded sympathetically. "So does her father. I wonder if it's a genetic thing. Very understanding of you though. Have you ever tried ear plugs? I can give you a set."
Toby shook his head in censure at his sister. "And you wanted to sleep in my room. Wow. Just wow."
Sarah looked at each face dumfounded. Traitors. All of them.
"You said there was egg nog?" She didn't wait for an answer, but instead walked over to the crystal bowl and snatched up a cup. She bent and dug through the liquor caddy first. She pulled out rum, filling the glass more than 2/3 full. She added a splash of nog for colour.
When she turned back around, Jareth was watching her with a raised brow.
She cheers'd him and drank deeply, relishing the slow burn. She didn't even like rum. It was a means to an end. The end being sweet oblivion.
"It's fine. It's all fine." Sarah wasn't even sure who she was speaking to anymore.
"I'd like some too," Toby asked.
"Right, of course. Have mine." She set her glass down in front of her brother and started to make another.
Toby looked like Christmas had come early until Robert snatched the glass away. "Perhaps a virgin nog for your thirteen year old brother, Sarah."
"She's just exhausted. Afraid to admit it," Jareth added conspiratorially to Karen.
Karen nodded. "Say no more. Sarah dear, why don't you head up to bed."
The worst part was that she was in fact tired. The heavy meal had already settled like a weight and the wine hadn't helped. Work had been very busy leading up to the holidays. The drive had been long. The thought of a hot shower beckoned. She nodded.
"We can keep Jareth company while you get some rest."
The not-Goblin King's lips twitched.
"He's tired too. Aren't you?" She was too far away to kick him under the table but she imagined her expression adequately conveyed the desire.
"So I am. Looking forward to curling up with," he eyed Sarah mirthfully, "a good book. Although I would love to get to know you all better. Hear more about Sarah. Perhaps share my own stories."
Sarah practically dragged him up the stairs.
"While your new found enthusiasm for taking me to bed is appreciated, Sarah, perhaps don't break my hand. I'd rather keep use of them."
She spun. "You are the worst, you know that right?"
"Come, come, Sarah, I need something enjoyable out of this arrangement."
"You're going to get paid, aren't you?"
He eyed her blandly. "I already told you I don't require money."
"Well that's your choice to do it for free then."
Jareth closed the door behind them. "Oh, I never said I was doing it for free, precious. I believe your ad said the price was negotiable."
Sarah turned again. "You've got to be joking. I meant the final price. In dollars."
"You never specified." He leaned against the door, managing to make the room look all the more small. "You of all people know the right words matter."
She held her ground. "I work in cut throat business. The price is always negotiated before the work begins. You can take the money or leave it."
"Fair enough. We could call this off. I could just drop the glamour," for a minute the Goblin King in full armour flickered into being and then vanished. "Though I'd hate to leave without saying goodbye first."
Her lips pursed in displeasure. "This is about revenge."
"It's just business, as you said."
She turned away in annoyance. "And what is your price? I already told you can't have Toby."
"As endearing as the boy who can't seem to chew with his mouth closed is," he remarked dryly. "He is not the price."
Her eyes lit on the bed and she turned back around, mouth parting in suspicion.
Easily discerning her expression, Jareth looked torn between being amused and annoyed. "Hardly, Sarah. I don't need to resort to such tactics. Don't fret over the price. Negotiations, as you know, take time. We can discuss those… minute details later."
She collected a few of her things, and moved past him before he could say more. "I'm going to take a much-needed shower now."
The water was hot and the steady stream did much to relieve her stress. She stretched it for as long as possible, to the point she'd almost convinced herself she could manage the holidays like she had summer camp in eighth grade. The week she'd had to share the cabin with Jessica. Jessica who signed her named with a heart on the 'I'. Jessica whom Sarah had found annoying on every possible level. Jessica who'd told everyone at camp that Sarah stuffed her bra – a jealous lie – and had stolen her favourite tortoise shell hair barrette and denied it later. She'd figured out how to handle Jessica before the week was over. She could handle Jareth. Though she didn't think there were any outhouses she could conveniently lock him in.
When she walked back into her room, the not-Goblin King was already in bed reading a book. Peaches was curled at his feet. Another traitor. He looked so normal, like he was just a mortal man, she almost did a double take. When she realized his chest was bare, she did.
An expanse of pale skin and lithe muscles. No chest hair, which she'd always hated. The covers were pulled only to his waist. She swallowed awkwardly. "You'd better not be naked."
He glanced over the top of the page and cocked a brow. "Yet another thing a woman has never said before. And no," he eyed her outfit. "Though not all of us feel the need to dress like an arthritic grandmother when going to bed."
He wasn't far off. Sarah who hated wearing anything other than a t-shirt or nightgown, disliking anything on her legs at night, was wearing the thickest set of pyjamas she owned. Made of a heavy duty flannel, they were covered in "cutesy" penguins and buttoned to the neck. They were also at least two sizes too big. They'd been a gift from her parents last Christmas. She'd brought them just to strategically wear them once in front of them.
Her hair was still damp from the shower, so she sat at her old vanity to brush it out. Which was another mistake, as the mirror just presented a perfect image of the Goblin King waiting half-naked in bed for her.
Tossing the brush down, she pulled a book at random off the shelf and then stopped about two feet away from the bed.
On the one hand, they were both adults. Sleeping and sex were two different things. On the other hand one of the adults was the Goblin King. A creature of fantasy. In the flesh. Currently in not much more than flesh.
"They don't have pyjamas in the Underground?"
"I won't judge you if you'd rather sleep on the floor," he replied without looking up. "I didn't realize it had been quite so long for you than you'd be unable to just sleep in a bed. I'd so hate for you to feel uncomfortable."
Sarah scowled at the provocation and then drew back the covers enough to slide in, careful to keep as much distance as the double allowed. Which wasn't much despite them both being slim.
The bed was already warm thanks to him. Karen had scented the sheets with lavender. It was going to be a really long night.
He seemed entirely engrossed in his book, so she cracked hers open to a random page.
"Heaving bosoms"… "quivering thighs"…
She flipped to the cover. She'd pulled one of her old Harlequin romances. Or maybe it was Karen's.
She discreetly splayed her fingers to hide the bodice ripper image.
"Good book?" His tone was innocent in a way that told her he'd noticed exactly what she was reading. He leaned over her for amoment. Close enough that his shorn hair brushed her cheek. "'Throbbing member'? That sounds rather painful."
She coughed awkwardly. "Must be Karen's."
"It sounds far more interesting than what I'm reading."
"Oh?" Sarah asked, using the opportunity to toss the paperback on the floor.
"Yes. 101 Villainous Ways to Seduce Virginal Heroines."
Sarah snorted. "Very funny."
"Not remotely. It doesn't seem to be working at all."
"Not remotely," she agreed, her stomach flipping just a little.
"Of course it doesn't help they make chastity belts with penguins on them these days. Masterfully played."
Sarah couldn't help a sly grin at the ceiling. "Thank you. Still reading?"
"Not remotely."
She turned out the bedside light and rolled her head away from him into the pillow. She was so close to the edge of the bed, she half expected to end up on the floor anyway. It was impossible not to be hyper aware that he was beside her.
The Goblin King.
The moon reflected too brightly on the freshly fallen snow. She hadn't thought to draw the blinds and the result was a room lit by winter's white light. She could see their reflection in the mirror. Mocking her. It didn't help that her pyjamas really were ridiculous.
She felt him shift, the mattress dipping, no doubt seeking his own comfort. Peaches took the opportunity to slide between them. Okay, maybe not a traitor after all. A low rumble started, the purr breaking the fraught silence enough that Sarah eventually found sleep after mentally listing everything she knew about baseball and the Civil War.
Her dreams were anything but boring though. The feline weight at her back was replaced by something more substantial. The sensation of an arm curling around her to draw her away from the precarious edge. A kiss under the mistletoe, this time with no parents avidly watching. Nothing to stop it. Nothing to distract.
When she woke it was to that feeling of in between, where sleep and awake tangle and anything is possible. The bed was warm, and she rolled into the heat with a contented sigh, her face burrowing into a cooler pillow. A pillow that smelled like something more masculine than lavender.
Sarah shot up. She was alone in the bed, and for a moment she looked around her room in confusion, unsure of what was real and what was make believe. As she'd done for so many years after that fateful night. Light streamed in but it was difficult to guess the time. She had the vague memory of limbs entwining in sleep. She pressed a hand to her forehead. Too much Chinese. Too much wine. Too much everything.
The door opened and the not-Goblin King walked in.
Real.
In nothing but a towel.
Too real.
He'd obviously showered. His hair was wet and slick. Water beaded on his pale skin. So much skin. When had Karen switched to hand towels only? She followed the descent of one droplet from his neck, down his torso, across a toned stomach with just a slight trail of fine hair, and beneath the perilously low slung terry cloth.
Caught staring, Sarah bristled defensively. "Couldn't you just have…" she motioned with her fingers.
"You said no magic. And sometimes I appreciate the little rituals in life. Taking pleasure in small things."
He turned to the closet, now filled with far too many finely cut, decidedly male, clothes and dropped the towel.
Or not small…
…judging from her limited perspective. Sarah fell back quickly and pulled a pillow over her face, silently screaming into it.
When she pulled it off again, Jareth was dressed in a slim button up shirt and pressed slacks. He was regarding her with a glint in his eyes as he finished doing up his belt. "Now that I have seen women do in my presence before." He turned to leave, but paused in the doorway. "I have to say I lied, Sarah. You don't snore." He winked. "You do however drool. Just slightly."
The door closed.
The desire to stay in bed and just let the world implode around her was ever so tempting. When she finally forced herself to crawl out of bed, it was only because it was quiet downstairs. Too quiet. She'd left Jareth alone with her family. A rookie mistake.
Sarah threw on clothes as quickly as she could, pausing only long enough to try and look presentable. It hadn't escaped her notice that he'd been dressed impeccably. She added a light smattering of make-up. Hair combed. Teeth brushed.
When she descended the stairs, it was to the smell of coffee and bacon. A delectable combination. Even better than Goblin Kings. Karen, for all her machinations, was sometimes wonderful.
Only it wasn't her step mother cooking.
It was him.
She paused in the doorway of the kitchen. Jareth, shirt sleeves rolled up, was deftly folding an omelette. Toby was seated at the kitchen table, his plate stacked with breakfast foods and a comic opened beside him. Her father was reading the paper. Karen, so unused to help in the kitchen that wasn't paid, had given up any pretence of doing anything other than watching Jareth dreamily.
When she saw Sarah, she sat up brightly. "Good morning, Sarah. You didn't tell me he could cook. A man who knows his way around the kitchen is definitely a keeper." She shot a look at Robert, who only raised the paper a little higher.
"Cooking is one of those small pleasures in life. Coffee?" It took Sarah a moment to realise he meant her. She accepted a cup gratefully. Even the coffee was delicious. He'd steamed the milk.
"You're up late," her father remarked. The one thing they'd always shared in common was being morning people.
"Rough sleep," Sarah supplied.
Karen's eyes drifted between the two, a knowing smirk bowing her lips.
"I was going to let you sleep in. Bring you breakfast in bed."
Karen let out a sort of breathy sigh at the thought. It was loud enough that Robert looked up again, this time a frown creased his face as he glanced between his enthralled wife and red-faced daughter, and then lit on Jareth – the cause.
Interesting, Sarah thought, filing it away for later. Perhaps her father could be turned back from the dark side after all.
"So. Christmas Concert tomorrow, Tobes. Looking forward to it?" Sometimes you had to throw your brother right under the bus.
Toby looked up, a rasher of bacon dangling from his mouth. "Whatever." But she could see him swallow awkwardly.
"And what are you doing in it?" Jareth slid a perfectly presented plate in front of Sarah.
Toby looked up again. "Singing," he mumbled. "And playing guitar. Same time. On stage." There was an element of fear underlying his tone.
"Before a captive audience," mused the not-Goblin King, sounding entirely like.
Toby's throat bobbed.
"He's very talented," Sarah added proudly. "I'm looking forward to it. We all are."
Toby let his hair fall into his eyes.
"As am I then." Jareth eyed the boy closely. "It's all in your confidence. Have that and they'll be your slaves."
Toby looked doubtful. Perhaps hopeful too. "Maybe."
"You have to want it." Jareth picked up his own cup, his eyes finding Sarah's over the rim. "As with anything, if you want something badly enough you find a way to get it."
AN: He dropped the towel. Oh yah, he dropped that towel!
Loving your comments :) For those of you who have mentioned feeling bummed this time of year, all the glitter and goblin goodness your way. Seriously.
Next chapter – Christmas Concert. Will there be shenanigans? Is water wet? And I can neither confirm nor deny that there will be a game of Risk too. A game, in our house, which always results in at least one flipped board every time. *rubs hands gleefully*
I drool when I sleep. I have come to terms with this.