SCENE 9

GOOD IS BETTER THAN NICE AND WONDERFUL IS JUST THE TOPS

Jareth sat in the arm chair.

The movie was ridiculously long. The time was the only thing about it that held his attention. All of his other thoughts were on replaying what had nearly happened in the kitchen. He moved folding his other leg and leaning on the arm rest. On the couch one by one each goblin dozed off. He glanced over: Sarah's head nodded drowsily.

He could have just gone home. It would have probably been more prudent, but he was being stubborn. In the kitchen she had challenged him; literally invited him to invade her space. And what a space to be found present in! It was like a bubble, a small circle of paradise. She had smelt of citruses and spring time; grass and pollen. He had, had fantasies of being in that space; fantasies involving wine and chocolate. 'And perhaps silk sheets and feathers,' he noted. 'And possibly a bubble bath.'

Looking over at the couch again he saw that Sarah had fallen asleep.

He blew air through his nose sharply. "Why am I here?" he asked the stillness quietly. He ran his eyes along the depth of her eyes and the line of her jaw. "Five years ago you un-wittingly asked me to step close to you; to come into your life. It was like a flame taunting a moth." He shook his head in wonder. One of the goblins snorted. He felt the need to keep whispering. "When one lives forever time and age, well, they sort of become obsolete. You fascinated me. Despite your youth, I was just fascinated by you. So," he stood and moved closer to the couch. She was achingly beautiful. One arm was tucked around Dink, while her other was around Meep. "Here I am, five years later, talking to you while you sleep because," he paused reaching out his hand. "you still fascinate me." Gently he caressed her cheek. He wandered back into the kitchen.

Something sort of tingled over her skin. She enjoyed the sensation. Moving slightly she stirred realizing that she had dozed off. Meep and Dink were cuddled against both of her sides. She smiled sleepily. The clock on the VCR read after eleven-thirty. Jareth had left the arm chair. In the other room the light over the kitchen table was on.

She maneuvered her self off the couch careful not to wake anyone. In the kitchen she found him sitting with a mug between his hands and a tea tab hanging over the lip. "Hope you don't mind," he said when he sensed her. "I rummaged for some tea."

She saw the kettle on the stove. "You couldn't just," she waved her hand in the air.

"There's something very grounding about actually doing a thing."

Maybe taking things in a suggestive way was just her problem. She nodded towards the stove. "Any water left?"

"If you want a cup I could very well just," he mimicked her hand motion with a grin.

She cocked an eyebrow feeling curious. "Sure. Why not?"

With a flick of his wrist an identical cup appeared on the table. "Honey?" he then asked.

"Beg your pardon?"

"In your tea."

"Oh yes."

He pointed into the cup. "Enjoy." He sipped his own.

She tasted it: Earl Grey with a touch of honey. "Nice," she said a little loud. Several snorts and mumbles came from the living room. Someone muttered an incoherent slur about chickens wearing lovely lacey dresses. She checked- they were still asleep. "Why don't we go out back?" she then offered.

A place to sit outside to watch the sky, to see the wind blow through the leaves, hear the birds sing, had always been important to Sarah. At home with her parents that place had been the park. Her first apartment had a court yard with a bench. Here at this little house there was a covered patio. She had found a small table with a wicker bench second hand. This is where they went.

Unlike the couch inside this little wicker seat didn't allow for much personal space. Sitting next to each other their legs brushed and if they weren't careful their elbows touched. She smiled shyly as they drank their tea the contact unavoidable. He grinned into his mug. "Earlier," she began. "you asked me why."

He nodded. "That I did."

She studied the tea in her mug. "I could ask you the same thing."

Leaning forward he set his mug on the table. "Yes you could." He looked back at her with a wink. "But I did ask first."

For some reason she didn't say anything, at least not right away. For a few minutes she just sat next to him enjoying his nearness and the cool night air. "It just seems right, you know," she finally said again looking into her mug. "Good that you all should be around."

"Is good a step up from nice?" Taking her mug away he also set it on the table.

Without anything to occupy her hands she felt suddenly awkward. "Yes," she answered.

He kept his eyes on her face. "Would wonderful be better than good?"

The conversation had just switched gears; she heard it in the inflections of his voice. Was she ready for this again? "Yes, I supposed it would be."

Angling his body in front of her he leaned in close. Some small inner voice that was decidedly female (and quite possibly responsible for every day dream she had ever had) whistled and then let out an internal "Woohoo!" His eyes seemed to search her eyes. "May I have your permission to take us from good to wonderful?"

From any other guy she had ever known those words would have sounded cocky and been responded with a shove and ended with her storming away. This was Jareth though. Normally she would just quip something sarcastic like earlier in the kitchen, but she didn't want to. Whatever he considered "wonderful" that involved the two of them would surely have to be better. She nodded.

His hand rose up to barely touch her cheek with his fingers, those magical, electrical fingers. She had to remind her self to breath. Her breath was warm against his face. His fingers caressed her skin. 'This is wonderful,' she thought her eyes closing relishing the tingling.

What he did next could very well be considered foolish. To say such a thing to him though would wound his pride. Had he been a goblin being called foolish would sound like a compliment. Here in this context it could be applied because quite simply put he was fae and she was human. Perhaps though in their own unique way it just seemed right, and anything that feels this wonderful is hard up to be disapproved of.

He kissed her. His lips touched hers in a meeting that had been five years in the making. Like everything else as of recently the degree of normalcy was just over whelming. True she reacted as a healthy hormonal woman should- a hand locked around his arm, her lips responding- but it didn't leave her dazed or frightened. No. She had been waiting for his return and to have him kissing her was indeed wonderful. It was still chaste. Gently he pulled away. Putting an arm about her shoulders he drew her to his side and she put her head on his shoulder.

Eventually one or both of them decided it was late. Instead of waking his subjects he made them vanish to finish sleeping back at the castle. Now a habit the two walked to her closet door. He tried not to stare at her bed especially after he saw the gift box on the desk which he knew contained the corset. Visions of her wearing only said corset and on said bed were hard to ignore. 'After five years don't blow it by rushing!' He opened the door.

She stepped close. Rapping on the frame she said, "Knock any time."

He looked at her wondering if she understood the implications of her offer. Giving a fae permission to enter meant one could go and come as they pleased. She smiled crookedly and slightly nodded her head. "I will." He left a tingling sensation on her cheek and forehead and was gone.