"You have to learn the rules of the game. And then you have to play better than anyone else."
Einstein
Sarah looked away and bit into a perfectly toasted piece of toast. Apparently the ever burnt or still bread dilemma didn't apply to no good, very bad Goblin Kings.
Spiced peaches.
The jam on the toast was peach.
It had a hint of something hotter – a chili maybe – against the pure taste of summer. Sarah recoiled even as her taste buds sang.
"Something wrong?" Toby was eying her curiously.
"Nothing." She could see Jareth's shoulders rocking slightly. Sarah scowled. "Just remembering that time he almost poisoned me with a rotten peach."
"Oh, you recovered well enough I think."
"No thanks to you."
He shot her a lazy smile. The kind that provoked as well as teased. "Still, it was no reason to throw a chair through my wall."
The silence in the room was suddenly deafening. When she turned, three rapt faces were watching them. A piece of partially chewed egg fell from Toby's mouth.
Robert blinked. "My Sarah? A chair?"
Karen looked alarmed. Toby looked impressed. Jareth looked entirely in his element.
"It was," Sarah swallowed, "a very breakable wall." More blinks. "We were… playing Risk!"
Robert's expression cleared and he nodded, folding his paper. "Ah, a highly dangerous game. And my Sarah is very competitive. Always needs to win."
"Jareth already knows that. I beat him - easily by the way," she eyed the not king slyly, "despite his atrocious cheating, he was positively crushed."
Her father snapped a finger at her. "That's my girl."
"Yes," Jareth's face had turned serious. "But we've never had a rematch, have we?"
Sarah sipped her coffee and pretended she couldn't hear him.
"You guys are super weird." Toby went back to his comic and breakfast. He took a large bite of sausage and then burped.
"You're welcome," Jareth replied.
Toby looked up, confusion crossing his face again.
Robert left shortly after for the office. Billable hours, he said jovially, but promising to be home for dinner. Karen shooed everyone out of the kitchen, declaring she and Toby would clean up. She promised to do some baking afterwards. Toby's expression made it clear he was not at all a fan of the plan.
Sarah was not entirely sure she wanted to be left to her own devices with the Goblin King, but was 'saved' when the phone rang. She'd rethink that later.
"Hello?"
"I'm here and you're not here." The accent was a thick Irish brogue. Great Aunt Elizabeth.
"Merry Christmas, Aunt Lizzie."
"I'm here and you're not here." Great Aunt Elizabeth - the long retired school teacher and very active choir mistress, of whom even the priests quaked.
"Right. And where are you exactly?"
The phone dropped away for a minute. "Jesus, Mary, and Joseph, the poor woman's finally gone daft." When she spoke again it was slowly and over enunciated. "I'm at the airport, dear. You were supposed to pick me up."
"This is Sarah, Aunt Lizzie."
The voice immediately brightened. "Oh, Sarah, how lovely! And it's Grrrreeeaaaaat Aunt Lizzie to you, young lady."
"Hold on and I'll get Karen." Sarah covered the receiver and called for her step mother.
Karen picked up the phone, said hello and then pulled it back wincing. Sarah could see a vein begin to throb on her step mother's forehead.
Great Aunt Elizabeth, the ex-nun with a heart of gold, who still frowned very strongly on divorce, and so had taken a dim view of her nephew's re-marriage. She took an even dimmer viewer of her Protestant niece in law.
Sarah realized that she was not the only one who felt the stress of the holidays and familial expectations.
"You said your flight was coming in at 4:30," Karen managed in a voice an octave too high. "Yes, but Aunt Elizabeth how were we to know you meant Dublin time? Normally one says the time upon arrival. Well yes, it may be 4:30 in Dublin but it's," she glanced at the hall clock, "only 11:30 here. Yes. I. Am. Sure. You can understand our confusion right?" Karen rolled her eyes. "Or you can't..." Her step mother looked ready to crack. She glanced down at her flour covered apron. A timer in the kitchen dinged.
Sarah was feeling magnanimous.
"I'll go get her," she whispered. She eyed the figure beside her, weighing her options, and then took his arm. "We'll go get her."
Karen steepled her hands in thanks. Aunt Lizzie would probably tell her she was doing it wrong.
"Yes, Sarah will come and get you. Right away. Yes, Elizabeth, she is more than old enough to drive."
Sarah didn't hear the rest of the conversation as she pulled her coat on and shuffled a bemused Jareth out the door.
They lived close enough to the airport that the drive itself went fairly quickly. The airport on the other hand made the Goblins look orderly by comparison. Sarah considered that the real horror of Die Hard 2 was not the terrorists, but the idea of being in an airport at Christmas Time. They had to park about 2 miles from the doors. The Goblin King, by comparison looked at home in the chaos. In fact, Sarah noticed that he received more than a few appreciative looks from women. And several from men as well. In his charcoal coat, his hair seemingly immune to the static electricity that came with winter, and a deep blue scarf artfully draped, she supposed she couldn't entirely blame them.
Forgetting to bring the flight information, Sarah scanned the arrivals for Aer Lingus. Before she could pinpoint the gate, she heard her name shouted loudly and affectionately.
A largish woman, her stark white hair perfectly coifed, came barrelling towards her and enveloped her in a tight hug.
"Don't you look a sight, so tall and lovely. Such rosy cheeks." Her aunt pinched the frost bitten aforementioned for good measure. "And who is this? Yer young man then?"
Her eyes roved over the not-Goblin King. Sarah prepared for the onslaught of gushing. Instead, her aunt's eyes narrowed shrewdly. "Aye, very handsome." But there was something in her tone that did not suggest it was necessarily compliment.
Far from being intimidated by the one woman famous for having made a particularly austere Cardinal cry. Jareth y grinned – a touch too widely.
Her great aunt snapped back as though slapped, and then shook her head. "Stuff and nonsense," she muttered. She handed her bags unceremoniously to Jareth. He hefted them easily.
Her aunt canted her head. "He's a very nice bum though," she whispered to Sarah. Great Aunt Elizabeth the ex-nun who made sailors blush.
On the way back to the car and for the entire drive home, they listened to the litany of the sins that were "the Americas". First they had taken her dear sister and Sarah's grandmother away, god rest her soul. Then they had the gall to drive on the wrong side of the road. Elizabeth took it upon herself to warn Sarah to watch out when any car passed them as though Sarah was in the wrong lane. America was also ungodly cold. The freezing temperatures were likely due to the lack of churches. There were not enough churches. Hell was a frozen wasteland absent from God, not a fiery pit, Elizabeth reminded them. There were certainly not enough Catholic churches. Americans also drank their beer cold, like ungodly heathens.
Finally, America had produced Karen.
Sarah tried to remind her they had produced her father as well – he'd never even been to Ireland – and her own mother. Elizabeth crossed herself when Sarah mentioned her mother. Her famous mother that Elizabeth had adored until the divorce, and then wouldn't mention afterwards. Her famous mother who had died in a plane crash five years ago. Sarah swallowed thickly.
"And you have the worst crisps! You should have seen what they had in the airport! Ranch!" Elizabeth made a noise of disgust. "Whatever happened to a perfectly good prawn flavour packet?"
She was still muttering about the deficiencies of the new world, George Clooney being a notable exception, when they bundled her into the house.
The one saving grace of Lizzie was that despite her disapproval of her nephew's divorce and remarriage, she completely adored Toby. Toby who looked nothing like Sarah or their father, a spitting image of Karen in fact, could do no wrong in her eyes. She loved all her family fiercely. Even Karen in her way, as she often reminded the poor woman that she prayed for her immortal soul regularly.
Toby was in the living room tuning his guitar when they arrived. Elizabeth had immediately emptied her purse of the all the best kinds of Irish chocolate. Toby's eyes lit up. She ruffled his hair and told him to get a haircut because he looked like a perfect heathen. But she said it a way that suggested she rather liked his kind of heathen.
She gave Karen a polite hello and hug, and accepted a shortbread. Of course she immediately remarked that there wasn't enough butter in them, but no one pointed out that she slid two more off the plate. Sarah helped her to her room for a nap shortly after, her aunt lamenting the lack of comfort of American cars on the way up the stairs. Sarah didn't point out her car was Japanese.
When Sarah came back down, Jareth and Toby were alone in the living room. Some music sheets were spread out around them. Toby was watching raptly as Jareth demonstrated some quick finger work on the classical guitar. She watched from the doorway.
Jareth passed the guitar back over. "As I said, don't force it. Let your fingers slide across the strings and then pluck gently but quickly. Don't look down when you sing. Your hands know what to do."
"It's just that I get embarrassed."
"Are you the best or the worst in your music program?"
Toby brushed hair out of his eyes. "Best I guest."
"Then why are you pretending like you're not?"
Toby shrugged. "I dunno. Supposed to be humble or whatever, right?"
"Humble is for average people who really wish they weren't. Own your greatness."
"What if I make a mistake?"
"Then pretend like you did it on purpose, my boy." Jareth corrected a finger position.
Toby looked up thoughtfully. "Have you made mistakes?"
"A few. The key is to never admit them. And never give up trying."
Toby nodded slowly.
"Use your eyes as well as your mouth to sing. Be confident and the girls will fall at your feet."
The boy blushed almost immediately – looking the epitome of an awkward teen.
"Ah, so there is a girl. Only one?" Jareth t'sked. "Does she like you?"
Toby shrugged.
"Well, she's a fool if she doesn't and never suffer fools if you can help it. If she does, master this and she's yours. Always use your gifts to your advantage. If you fail, cheat." Jareth danced a mandarin across his hands. "And between me and you, trust me when I say, no woman can resist nimble fingers."
Sarah cleared her throat immediately and walked into the room. She shot a quelling look at Jareth. He looked completely unrepentant.
Toby set the guitar down. "Oh hey. Want to play a game?"
Jareth's eyes flashed. "What fun."
Without waiting for Sarah's answer, Toby began pulling boards out of the entertainment unit.
One by one they were vetoed.
"Life?"
The rules were explained to Jareth.
"So the object is to acquire as many children as possible? By any means?"
Sarah shook her head. "Next."
"Twister?"
The glint in Jareth's eyes as he took in the tangle of limbs on the lid, made Sarah veto it even faster.
"Clue?" Sarah asked hopefully.
"So lame," Toby shook his head emphatically.
"Mystery Date?"
"Even worse!" Toby pulled a face.
"The object of the game is to secure a mystery man? How desperate."
"Right?" Toby snorted. "Like making a personal ad." His voice rose to mock falsetto. "I need a date!"
Sarah frowned and pushed the box away.
Battleship was only two players. When they opened the box of monopoly, most of the money was missing.
Toby pulled one more box out. "Oh, hey, you can get your rematch! Just try to control your anger, m'kay Sarah?" He set the board up quickly on the floor. Black for Jareth. Green for Toby and Red for Sarah.
Jareth picked up the rule sheet.
Toby noticed and looked between them. "I thought you guys had like that epic game."
"Just making sure the rules are the same as yours. My version is from," he shot a look at Sarah, "Australia."
Toby nodded. "Well, no cheating this time. But if you want to take out Sarah in revenge for beating you, I won't stop you. There is no such thing as family in Risk."
"Hey," Sarah poked her brother.
Toby rubbed his hands. "This could take a while. How long did it take her to beat you?"
"Thirteen hours."
"Thirteen?!" Toby exclaimed incredulously.
"The stakes were… high. And it was ten, actually." Her eyes met the not-Goblin King's. "You stole three hours remember?"
Toby's face creased. "How do you steal hours? That's not even possible."
"Youngest goes first." Sarah quickly shoved the dice at her brother.
The 42 territories were claimed in succession. Both Sarah and Toby were vying for South America which only had two access points, while Jareth boldly made a move for Europe and Asia, despite it being much harder to defend.
An hour later and the carnage was well underway. Karen had at some point dropped off a plate of cookies, smiling fondly at the tableau the trio presented, and then disappeared to more wrapping in the den. She was fervently hoping Elizabeth slept until Christmas.
Jareth proved adept at the game. It didn't help that he seemed to roll more than his fair share of 6s. Enough that Sarah had shot him more than one warning look.
Toby made a joke about not getting into land wars in Asia – both he and Sarah had laughed – until Jareth had decimated the remaining armies Toby had risked trying to establish a foothold. The kid looked a bit dejected.
"Don't feel badly, Toby, you achieve nothing if you risk nothing. There is no shame in defeat. It was well-played."
Sarah's eyes danced. "Jareth knows a lot about defeat."
Toby took stock of the board and his remaining pieces, weighing his options. "I'm out. Going to practice more," he said well naturedly. "Have at it."
He picked up his guitar and leveled a finger at Sarah. "No chairs though. Even if he wins this time."
Sarah crossed her heart. "Scouts honour."
Once they were alone again, Jareth eyed her slyly. "I won't think less of you if you give up. Go back to your toys and your costumes."
"Hardly," Sarah replied. She studied the board, awash in black save for some strongholds of red. "I've beaten worse odds." She looked up. "Through dangers untold and hardships unnumbered. I like a challenge."
"Shall we make it more interesting then?" He stretched his long legs. "Last time we played for your brother. What shall we play for this time I wonder?"
AN: Okay I lied. Christmas Concert next chapter. As well as the rest of this game of Risk. *shift eyes* a wager you say? I'm sure nothing interesting to see there.
I really did once throw a chair in Risk. Not through a wall. It's all but banned in our house (I still love it).
It seems a lot of you drool or snore in your sleep. To quote Home Alone, "You filthy animals."
To whomever made their username "ViciouslyWaiting", well trolled. I think I might love you.
Unrelated - If you don't log in, I can't respond directly if you ask questions. Which means I have to reply here (I don't mind, but just a reminder). This is a bit of a crack fic (or a total one, depending on your bar). By nature it requires a certain suspension of disbelief. The bed sharing is like the least outrageous thing so far IMO - lol. To me, a couple without religious, physical, or mental reservations are likely at it like rabbits after close to two months of dating. I don't think it's entirely believable they'd want separate rooms (keeping in mind Karen and Robert assume they are a legit couple and Sarah is in her late twenties). At least not in my experience, but to quote Dorothy Parker: "Tell him I was too fucking busy- or vice versa." ;)
On that note, my Nana is very Catholic. No hanky panky under her roof unless you are married. I lived with my H before marriage (I'm a very bad, no good Catholic), but if I came to visit you can make damn sure we were separated (I was forgiven once we got married). That said, she judiciously applied that rule to all ages. I remember a friend of the family came to visit – he was a widower in his 90s! – My Nana still put him and his girlfriend in separate rooms. Makes me laugh to this day.