Sarah knew they weren't really in the Mexican restaurant, because her bare feet still felt the cool flagstones of his bedroom instead of the thin grey carpet that she saw. That, and nobody batted an eye at two people appearing in robes out of nowhere. Still, her mouth salivated and her empty stomach complained at all the food surrounding them. People were eating tamales, chimichangas, burritos, and her favorite, nachos. Damn, but she was hungry.
"Do you remember anything now?" Jareth asked as he lowered his hand to join his other at Sarah's waist. He couldn't loop them around her like he wanted because of that damned boot, but finally settled with holding her hips.
"No," Sarah murmured looking through the crowd- trying to spot themselves. Just as she saw his spiky hair, a large group of people walked in front of them blocking her. As soon as they passed, she saw them plainly- the image zooming forward so that they were the main focus. Her in the dress and flats, dark hair tied into a high ponytail. And him, in his Underground attire. "Wait," the robe-clad Sarah said, looking up at him. "Why aren't people looking at you? You're not wearing your Aboveground clothes." She went back to watching themselves.
"Hmm?" He rested his chin on her head happily content. "Glamor. You should know that by now," he reprimanded.
"I'm so used to being around you, I guess I never noticed." She said distractedly, as she hungrily eyed a plate of huevos rancheros that was carried past.
Jareth made an elegant gesture with is right hand and all surrounding noise faded until their conversation was the only thing heard. The absence of sound pulled Sarah's focus back on them. She likened it to a movie or a play, where something important was going to be said by one of the characters.
A waiter clad in a matador's uniform complete with a half cape hanging around his shoulders came by and gave Sarah a dazzling smile. "Nachos," he said placing the giant plate in front of them. "Can I get you anything besides water?"
"Yes," Sarah said. "I'll take a tequila shooter and-"
"Sarah," Jareth interrupted. "I thought you had an incident with that?"
Both Sarah and the waiter glared at Jareth. Sarah's glare said, 'I can do what I want,' while the waiter's said, 'how could someone as plain as you end up with a girl like her?'
"I was 21 at the time and couldn't hold my alcohol. It's been 6 years, I'm sure I'll be okay. Besides, it's just one drink." Turning she addressed the waiter. "Yes, a tequila shooter for me and…" She looked again at Jareth.
"Water is fine." In truth, he didn't like most Aboveground drinks unless they were fine wines or brandy, and this place had neither.
The waiter took off still frowning at Jareth.
"You'll want to take your gloves off," Sarah instructed, nodding at the plate of gooey nachos. She handed him an empty plate. "Have you ever had these before?" She dug in, taking a few of the chips off the top- the ones with the most toppings and put them on her plate.
"No," he said as he plucked his dove gray gloves off and, mimicking Sarah, took his own chips off the pile.
"I'm surprised, what with you being as old as you are. Surely you've experienced everything." She licked her thumb where she'd stuck it into a glob of melted cheese.
"Just because I'm near-immortal doesn't mean I've done everything there is to do." He picked an olive off on one of the chips and chewed thoughtfully. Not bad.
"Like what?" She popped a jalapeno slice into her mouth savoring the spiciness.
"I've never flown in one of your airplane contraptions." He ventured onto a chip that was laden with glistening melted cheese, and those green things Sarah liked. What were they? Pistachos? Something with a 'P,' he knew it.
Sarah laughed heartily at him. Going so far as to snort. Jareth decided that he liked her snorting with laughter even if it wasn't dignified. Before she could retort, their waiter came back with Sarah's tequila shooter complete with a wedge of lime, and another glass of water for Jareth. Nodding towards the waiter in thanks, she leaned towards Jareth still snorting with laughter. "I know that," she made flapping motions with her arms, you do turn into an owl after all." She bit into the lime and downed the shooter. Tangy.
She giggled again at the image of Jareth, mighty King of the Goblins crammed into an airplane like a sardine in a tin. Surrounded by the unwashed masses, the crying babies- which probably wouldn't bother him given his occupation- the tiny, tiny bags of peanuts. She vowed right then and there that if it would be the last thing she did- she would see Jareth fly in one. Maybe they could go to France, she always wanted to visit France.
Jareth quickly decided that the green pistachio thing didn't taste very good. It had a mean spicy kick to it. He quickly gulped at his full glass of water to kill the fire dancing about his mouth. Mismatched eyes watered, and he was sure his face was full of color. Sarah handed him a nacho with a glob of sour cream on it. "This'll help." He ate it gratefully.
"Oh." Sarah spied his ungloved hands. A rare treat indeed. Emboldened by the alcohol which had started thrumming through her veins, she picked up his hand to examine it more closely. His pale fingers tapered elegantly and were soft and smooth- probably due to him always keeping them covered. And being a king of course.
"Have you ever done any hard labor?" She looked up from his hand and caught him off guard- with a silly soft smile on his face.
"Hmmm?" It took him a minute to focus completely on her question. Pushing his empty plate aside, he leaned forward and thought. He noticed that she didn't pull her hand away from his. "Hard labor," he mused. "Part of the lessons of the young princes and princesses of the various realms are character building. Aside from the normal lessons of course."
"Of course," she agreed. Sarah continued to twine and thread her fingers through his, relishing in their softness.
"From the ages of 15 to about 18, we learn carpentry, masonry, and blueprinting. And as our final test we're taken out to plan and rebuild a small section of a kingdom."
"How many are there? Princes and princesses that is?"
"Half a dozen at most. Fae have a hard time conceiving," he finished quietly. A somber mood settled around him. He quickly dispelled it, giving Sarah's hand a squeeze. "Which is why we accept any Wished Away children with open arms should their caregiver fail in retrieving them."
Sarah looked at him with shock written on her face. "You don't turn them into goblins?"
Jareth smiled toothily at her; eyes which had been dark and contemplative earlier, now sparkled with amusement. "Whatever gave you that idea?"
She sat back disengaging her hand from his with the movement. "You mean to tell me, that if I hadn't won Toby back, he would have been raised as a prince?" She snatched up her empty glass and waved it in the air, signaling for a second.
"I had actually thought about naming him my heir," he admitted.
She waved her glass more frantically at this. "No, no- Toby your heir? You have got to be kidding me! I-"
Whatever she was going to say next was cutoff as the scene paused. "Sarah," Jareth said softly as he turned her around to face him. "Why did that disturb you so? Me naming Toby as an heir?"
Sarah clutched his boot to her chest and sighed. "When you told me- it dawned on me that he could have had a much better life than he does now. I just- feel guilty, you know?"
He raised an eyebrow at her questioningly. "His life is terrible now?"
"No, just that-" she sighed again. "He could be living his dreams right now. Toby- he's very deep into the fantasy life." She glared at him. "You of all people should know that."
"He's not the one who's garnered all my attention." He reached up to brush his knuckles across her cheek making her blush.
Sarah continued. "He's even more into it than I was. Every year there's this Renaissance Fair that comes to their town, and he voluntarily give up his weekends for two months to immerse himself in that environment." She smiled fondly. "You know he built a maze for the children- Goblin's Run." She chuckled at whatever memory was playing in her mind. "Toby even rearranges everything at the end of the day. Never the same maze twice. Remarkable for a 14-year-old, really." She fiddled with the cuff of his boot. "Our adventure must have imprinted upon him more than I thought."
"You never told him it was real?" He asked.
"Jareth," she admonished. "He was a year old. How much can a baby really remember? I told him the stories, of course. But to tell him it was real? He would have thought me insane."
He knew Sarah kept his existence quiet. One can't really go around telling friends and coworkers that one is keeping company with the King of the Goblins. He remembered one time offering to accompany her to a friend's wedding. He had even pitched a plausible cover story for her to tell her friends, but she declined saying that she wasn't ready to share him with the world yet.
He didn't know that 'the world' meant Toby as well.
Making a noncommittal murmur, Jareth redirected her attention to the paused scene. "You said that when I told you my intentions, you felt guilty. Does that mean you now remember what happened?"
Sarah turned back around so she could study the scene. "A little. I remember that, and I remember-" She stopped herself and blushed again.
Jareth once again settled his hands upon her hips and nuzzled her ear. "Remember…?"
"Us. By the lake- kissing." She moved her head away from him. "Though, I suspect you started it. You're always trying to start things with me."
"Would you like to see?" He asked as he rested his chin on her head.
"Yes, but can we skip this part?" She looked up at him.
He kissed her forehead. "Of course." And with an elegant gesture the scene around them fast-forwarded. The rapid movements of themselves making Sarah dizzy.
Disclaimer: Jareth and Sarah are not mine. They belong to Jim Henson and Co.
AN: Not betaed- all errors are mine. I am looking for one for all these little fics that pop into my head.