-1The story. The song. It was all about love. And she'd been too scared to admit it until now.
But what no one knew was that the king of the goblins had fallen in love with the girl and given her certain powers.
A fifteen year old girl is hardly attentive enough to recognize real love. She's not even attentive enough to recognize her own emotions. But a thirty-five year old woman, well; that's a different story. Of course Sarah had had her romances, her affairs, her flings. She had recognized love as it struck down all her friends. She had seen it transform them from career-minded women into spouses, housewives, mothers. And it frightened her. No, disgusted her. She didn't want that to happen to herself.
Sarah was an economics teacher. She believed in working hard and gambling smart to succeed. Business did not suit her, nonetheless. She preferred the philosophical mindset and rewarding feeling that came with teaching. Though nothing could stop her from pursuing business if she chose to. She wasn't trapped.
Marriage, now that was trapped. And naturally she associated love with marriage, or assumed it would lead to it, and so naturally she shied away from love. Not that it wasn't bad once in a while. Just not with expectations. Not in a contract.
Sarah rose from the chair where she'd spent most of her morning and a decent chunk of her afternoon. She snatched her backpack from the floor and settled in the kitchen, whipping out a neat stack of typed papers to grade.
Her red pen dazzled the pages, making notes and leaving comments, praise, and opinions. The logical, methodical movement calmed her nerves. The reasoning felt delicious to her overwrought mind. Paper after paper she marked. Forty-seven of them. By the time she was finished, darkness had begun to descend over the valley.
She slid the neat stack of papers into a folder and back into the bag. What else now? Laundry. Just one load.
By the time her clothes were whirling about in the washer, she was ready for a break. Something numbing. Television. She clicked the remote on her way to the fridge. The bottle of wine caught her eye. She hesitated, then pulled it out and set to work on the cork. It popped free with a jimmy from the silver instrument that had only been used at her best friend's surprise party. She looked hard at the wine goblets in her cabinet, then shrugged and carried the whole bottle into the other room.
Bill and Ted's Excellent Adventure. Yes. This was perfect. She settled down to watch the movie, pressing the bottle to her lips as she stretched out on the sofa.
Half an hour later, she was giving the television the air-guitar salute and rocking out with the loveable idiots, and her new best friends, Bill and Ted.
The bottle finished, she cleverly made her way to the kitchen to force down several glasses of water and a few pieces of bread, praying to whatever that she wouldn't wake with a hangover, and she stumbled off to bed.
…..oOo…..
He turned around and smirked at her, white feathery cape swirling in his wake.
"Sarah."
Hey eyes flew open. The sound of his voice still seemed to echo in the room. It was still dark outside. She glanced at the clock, 6:00am. The alarm was off. She glanced around the room, looking for signs of a person, but found none. Her head felt a little stuffy, but as she brewed some coffee it began to clear.
Work in two hours. Huzzah. Though as the caffeine began to take hold, she felt marginally more optimistic about her Monday.
She sped out the door and hour later, bag in hand, and hurried off to class.
…..oOo…..
That evening, Sarah pushed open the door to her condo and slipped in, palm beating the wall in search of the light switch. Finally it clicked on. She locked the door behind her and turned around.
She nearly fell over when she saw him standing there.
"Hello Sarah," he said softly. He was grinning as she cursed quietly and braced herself on the wall.
He stepped into the light of the entrance hall. Gleaming black boots, narrow faded jeans, and a black T-shirt, despite the chill. His hair was cropped closer, a much more practical look, and his hands were resting gently in his pockets. He made her think of a candid photo of a rock star on his day off. Because he is a rock star on his day off, you dolt, she chided herself.
"It's been a while since we've spoken," he stopped, resting his weight on one leg. "Sorry if I startled you."
"We spoke at the concert," Sarah half-slid, half-crawled along the wall away from him.
"Now really, I hardly call that speaking. A brief greeting at most." He raised an eyebrow as she stumbled through the kitchen doorway. "Don't be so shifty," he said with a toss of his hair. "Or am I that frightening?"
"You're awfully bold," she said in a not entirely civil voice. He was that frightening. Especially when unexpected.
"Come come now, do you really expect me to be anything less than bold?"
"I'm not really sure what to expect from you. I certainly wouldn't have expected you to call me, ever, or to invade my home and buy me groceries." She had slipped past the kitchen doorway and into the darkened living room.
He followed her slowly, matching his pace with hers. He smiled as she backed slowly away. He stopped. She froze. "You've changed so much and yet not a bit."
"I resent that. I'm a wholly different woman."
"You are jumbling things. You are the same person entirely, just grown up. We never really change. We just learn."
"I suppose you've learned quite a bit then, to be offering such wisdom." To her surprise, he looked almost wistful.
His voice was quiet, "Yes, I daresay I have." She was disarmed by his momentary solitude, but he soon looked up and struck her with another sly grin. They eyed each other for a time, and then he took another step toward her. Sarah jumped. He looked startled. "May I sit?"
Sarah was so thrown by this question that she took a full half a minute to come to her senses and nod. He moved past her and sat on the couch. It seemed so unusual to see him sit. She had never seen him sit, not onstage, not in the Labyrinth. He leaned back into the cushions and crossed his legs. She slowly made her way around and sat in the large chair furthest from him.
"Why are you here?"
He scratched his chin in the throwaway casual manner of one who is above such things. "I am here in your home because I thought to talk with you and I am here in the Aboveground because the Underground tired me."
"Why did you want to talk with me?"
"Does it matter?"
Sarah blinked and her gaze became unfocused as she stared down at her lap. She could sense Jareth grinning broader as though she amused him. It infuriated her.
"Now you tell me: Why did you go to the concert?"
She looked up quickly. He studied her closely. "Does it matter?" she mimicked. This seemed to please him. She glared back coldly. "How did you learn my phone number?"
"Magic," he stated.
"And how did you buy me groceries?"
"In the usual way, of course." Somehow Sarah couldn't picture Jareth in the supermarket.
"Erm, why?"
He rolled his eyes. "How else do you expect me to buy you food?"
"No, I mean why did you buy me groceries?"
"Well, isn't that part of Aboveground courtship? Calling one another, buying each other food and all that rot?"
Sarah couldn't help but laugh at this. "Um, sure. Yes." She stopped abruptly. "Wait, are you trying to court me?"
"I should have thought that was obvious."
"Oh damn."
"That's hardly the reaction I had hoped for."
Sarah jumped up and began to pace. "Damn!"
Jareth frowned. "I'm not sure I understand."
She looked at him incredulously. "The last time I saw you, really saw you, you were threatening to turn my baby brother into a goblin. You made me run through your maze like a goddamn lab rat! And then you tried to tell me," she dropped off. That you loved me. "Look, the point is, I don't even know you. To me, you're the evil guy. You're twisted, if not a little perverted."
This made him smile again. "Fair enough. We'll do this my way." He stood up and made for the door, picking up a leather jacket from the chair as he went. Sarah felt an inexplicable panic as he moved away.
"And what exactly is my way?"
He turned to face her. "I'll pick you up at eight. Friday."
She was too shocked to respond. He let himself out, quietly shutting the door behind him. When she ran after and opened the door to protest, he was already gone, though a shimmering powder lingered in the air.
"Damn."