SCENE 10

GRAVY AND TOMATOES ALWAYS GETS ME HOT

Come the morning the goblins were a bit disgruntled at having been returned to the castle. For a few specific reasons they were a bit grumpy: the first being that the couch was by far much softer and snuggle-able than the lumpy pillows they had available; secondly the food was much more palatable. This second reason was by far the most important to Dink, Weech, and Stench, and they led their companions through the now squeak free closet door.

Breakfast food to a goblin comes in a few basic forms: eggs with gravy, toast with gravy, and (all depending on how hungry the group is) eggs and toast covered in gravy. Having found several cook books Dink thought that perhaps he should experiment: how about pancakes with gravy? Feeling bold he even allowed Stench to scramble the eggs.

When Sarah awoke at around nine o'clock and stumbled out into the kitchen, she was greeted with a well organized serving system. Some ten plus goblins were lined up to receive their pancakes, a splash of gravy, and then a spoon full of eggs. Dink greeted her and demanded she be allowed in at the front of the line. "Hold the gravy," she asked politely. Weech scowled, but didn't insist. Humans after all had such bizarre tastes.

Later Dink informed her that she would need to go grocery shopping that afternoon. He intended to cook dinner for everyone. The list he provided was surprisingly specific: a white onion, red potatoes, fresh garlic to name a few items. "Have you been watching the Food Network?" she teased. Grateful to get out of the house to be allowed some head-room she showered and then made her way to the grocery store.

Some where between the frozen beef and the frozen pork she found her self staring at the packaged chicken legs, thighs, and other such things. Chickens- Jareth had chickens; his were alive and trained in some form of martial arts. Jareth. Staring at the frozen poultry she was overcome with a desire to see him. Last night had been a bit of chore to sleep properly though what with her hormones all a-flutter. She was fairly confident he would make an appearance as well today. After last night's meeting of the lips, he'd be a royal jerk not to.

Back at the house Fash had made his way back to Sarah's room. She had chastised him about her underwear, but hadn't very well put any thing else off limits. Previously he had caught a glimpse of an item so marvelous, so functional so brilliant that he simply had to inspect it further. Lying on top of the dirty clothes pile was the item. The small horned goblin, whose name is Shriek joined him. "What you got there Fash?" he asked.

"I'm not sure," was the reply as he inspected the material.

Shriek climbed up on the pile. "You know," he began noticing the design. "these cups would be the perfect size to hold turnips in."

"Hhhmmm you're right, or even small melons."

Grinning from ear to ear Shriek got an idea. "See how stretchy these straps are- they have a lot of good give. Boy this thing sure would be handy in battle. Fill up the cups, stretch it back, and let it fly!" He whistled like an approaching bomb and then made an exploding sound.

Fash considered the proposition. "Like a sling shot?"

"Exactly!"

"Not a hat?"

"Well, maybe for court days. Come on- let's gear up for battle!"

Fash though not much of a fighter, brightened at the idea to make further use of this truly wonderful item. They scrambled for as many as they could find, rounded up who was available and headed out back.

Sarah arrived home with grocery bags weighing her down to find an all out battle occurring on her back lawn. Dink, who had declined in favor of finding this Food Network on the television, squealed with glee when he saw her. She peered out the back window as she unloaded the items. "Dink, what are they doing?" she asked as she witnessed an amazing catapulting of a small goblin. The creature flew and landed on the opposing side.

"Battle reenactment," he explained. "The War of the Turnips."

Someone had secured tomatoes. "But… they're not using turnips," she commented puzzled.

Dink began rifling around for the first food item he would need: the onion. "You didn't have any turnips. Just like you were out of melons for the catapult, so they're using each other. Not quite as messy, but still effective," was his nonchalant explanation. "Lady I need a clean frying pan."

She looked around- the dirty dishes from breakfast were still in the sink. "You're going to have to do some washing up first then. I'll help."

A goblin wailed as he soared from the catapult. She gasped. It wasn't so much she feared them hurting themselves (goblins are after all remarkably resilient), but that the neighbors might become suspicious and come pounding on her door. She began to fill the sink with soap and hot water. How would she rightly explain that? 'They're not goblins, they're a unique small animal from…Brazil. Very valuable.' She smirked. Within another second she realized that she had mumbled, "I wish the goblins couldn't be detected" out loud. Old habits die hard.

"Done," declared a voice.

She dropped the dish in the sink. Turning she saw Jareth standing in the kitchen with them. Dink greeted him politely. "You startled me," she said.

"At least you didn't pass out this time." His eyes surveyed her in such a way that she was confident he was assessing what undergarments she had on. "Shame."

She rolled her eyes. "What did you do to them?"

Their cries, yells, and all other such war noises could still be heard.

He walked to her side and also peered out the window. "Protective sound barrier. No one will come nosing about now. Ah the Battle of the Turnips," he noted. He stood there next to her watching. If she were to turn her head at all she would brush her cheek against his shoulder. The closeness in proximity to him and the hot water in the sink were attempting their own little battle on her senses. She wondered if she should nudge him affectionately or turn to kiss his cheek. Such indecision made her heart flutter.

Purposefully he held her against the counter's edge. She wore her hair down today and he could just smell it from where he stood. It reminded him of flowers in spring. Dink was dumping dishes into the water. Another scream echoed from outside. "Dink," he said. "go outside and make sure no one is hurt." The goblin gone he stepped to stand behind her. Holding to her waist he drew near and brought his face closer to her hair. He felt her tense. "Sarah," he said. "has anyone ever told you that you smell like spring time?"

'It would feel so nice to just lean against him,' she thought feeling his body and his hands that held her. She thought it a bit strange that he suddenly tossed the hand towel across the room. "No," she replied. "No one has ever told me that."

"You smell like spring time." He inhaled deeply.

She couldn't help her self: she leaned back her head resting against his shoulder. His hands flexed around her hips making warm, tingling points. Lost in the comfort she made some approving noise that sounded an awful lot like a simper. He made her simper. 'That's a first,' she thought happily.

Fingers trailing he moved along her hips, over her waist, and up to her arms. She relaxed further against him. His hands moved in caressing strokes up and down her arms. Finding her ear he murmured "Missed you last night." Less then ten minutes in her presence and here he was already making lewd comments. Fascinating was an under statement.

To return his touch suddenly became the most necessary action for her to take. Her hands moved amidst the water and bubble foam. Warm breath wafted over her ear. Her hands clutched the edge of the sink. "Where," she paused trying to catch her breath. "Where did that hand towel get off to?"

He laughed mischievously. "No, no towel. This is my moment. It felt so odd to leave you here; so very… un-normal." There was a scrambling sound near the back door. He leaned in close, breathed deep again, and then began to move away. "Thank you." He left her flushed and slightly disheveled with her pruned fingers in the water.

The goblins were coming through the door. Some looked mortally wounded where the tomatoes had connected. Others were rubbing elbows or knees. There was a bit of a dispute. Someone held a tomato, one last reserve, threateningly in their hand. Sarah snapped something about "not in the house" and the goblin stood down. The dispute involved the outcome of the reenactment: the opposing side was supposed to perform some action to represent their surrender. One massive goblin pointed an accusing finger at Shriek who as the result of a direct tomato hit appeared to have lost an eye. "He is supposed to relinquish his turnips!"

"How am I supposed to do that?" he roared back. "I haven't even got any! Remember this is a reenactment you dim wit!"

"Your mother is an aardvark!"

"Your mother swims in the bog!"

Jareth separated them. "Hold on now! Easy does it there Squabble- calm your self. If you throw that tomato there will be consequences." Squabble glanced at Sarah who was glaring at him. "Squabble let me ask you a very simple question: do you see any turnips about?"

"No."

"Is Shriek holding any turnips?"

"No."

"Was there at any point before, during, or after this reenactment any turnips?"

With a sullen expression he replied, "No."

"Well then it would seem to me to be very hard for Skriek to surrender any turnips. Right! Now shake hands. It was a very good reenactment of The Battle of the Turnips," he then complimented them.

Sarah surveyed them all sweaty and covered in tomato juice that was dripping on her floor. "Jareth, why don't you take them out back and spray them down with the hose? They're making a mess all over my floor. Go on!" she encouraged them. "I'll make something for lunch for all my hungry battle worn warriors." She smiled. On his way out Jareth threw her the hand towel.

Outside having removed his cape and gloves, Jareth set about washing off his subjects. While cleaning off Fash he noticed the new item they had utilized in the battle. He shook his head in amusement. Sarah was not going to be happy to learn that her braziers had been used as sling shots. Blot was even sporting one as a hat. 'I wonder what sort of restitution I can come up with this time,' he thought as he sprayed the water. Sarah came out with an arm full of towels. She chided them to avoid the mud puddles and to stand on the patio. She handed a towel to Jareth whose shirt was soaked as a result. He accepted it with thanks.

Head cocked to one side she asked, "Are those my bras?"

"Unfortunately yes."

"What is their fascination with my under garments?" her tone was exasperated. He chuckled as he dried off his face. "Right I forgot- they live with a flashy, randy king."

Smiling he tossed his towel at her. "You wouldn't have them or me any other way." He pulled his soaked shirt off over his head.

Sarah blinked once and then lapsed into a bit of an awkward stare. He was standing shirtless in her back yard and looking beautiful. "No," she said tearing her eyes away from his bare chest. "I suppose I wouldn't. Right, well, umm when you're done drying off," she addressed the goblins. "lay the towels out to dry. Who needs a dry shirt to wear?" Several of them did. She went and found several old t-shirts. Jareth made no attempt to cover him self. She was decidedly torn between feeling a tad bit of inappropriateness and a whole lot of girlish appreciation for his well toned body.

They went inside for lunch. Grilled cheese sandwiches were made for everyone. The goblins selected another VHS tape to watch, this time the movie was Legend. At first they were puzzled how a movie could be filmed in their home land without them being aware of it. "We would have noticed!" they all complained. Jareth and Sarah both attempted to explain how it wasn't real. The best explanation they could offer was comparing the movie to one of Jareth's illusions. That satisfied them.

Gathering the towels Sarah made her way down the hall to the small room that held the washer and dryer. It was a good excuse to get her away from the testosterone and exposed male bodies. She filled the washer. Not that the sight of the shirtless Goblin King was a bad one. No. He didn't have the typical cover of a romance novel physic- broad shoulders, bulging biceps, and pecks that could very well be toned man boobs. But rather it was slender and defined. Much more to her liking anyway, and that was what made it so hard to ignore. A skinny, lithe frame with defined muscles and graceful movements was much better than a bulky, bumbling, body builder. She dumped detergent in with the towels.

She also had his shirt. Glancing around to make sure she was alone she raised the fabric to her face. Inhaling she smelt his scent. With a laugh she realized it was just as silly to sniff his shirt as it was for him to sniff an envelope. She didn't dare risk washing it. Finding a hanger she hung it off the lip of a small storage shelf. She then stood there thinking and recalling the smell over and over again. It made her smile.

Jareth went looking for her. He had seen her shy glances and had purposefully left him self shirtless to further encourage without thought process was currently raging through her mind. It was a devilish thing to do to be sure. He had told him self on the previous evening to not rush things, and at the time he was resolute in his decision. Then he had spent the night alone, the feeling of her lips and touch haunting his skin. Such sensations had chased away much of his resolution. He found her standing in the laundry room.

Before either one of them were fully aware of what the other was doing they were kissing and holding one another. One moment they were fumbling against the open door, the next they were struggling up against the washer machine. It was reckless and juvenile, and they both were enjoying it. His bare skin was smooth and electrifying against her. Her hair in his hands was silky and enticing. She felt him drop his hands to her legs and lift her on top of the machine. 'Yippee!' went that small inner voice.

"Is he giving her mouth to mouth?"

"Certainly looks that way."

"What is that called: CDR?"

"No- PDA."

"There's definitely an 'r' some where in it."

"It's CPR you numb skulls!"

As if she could get any more flushed, Sarah felt a wave of blood rush to her cheeks. Both of their eyes popped open and their arms froze around each other. They both looked to see Meep, Fash, and Dink regarding them from the doorway. She was sure Jareth said some horrible hex under his breath. Taking a deep breath she asked, "Yes? Is there something you need?"

Their expressions were so honest and open. "Sorry didn't mean to interrupt," explained Fash.

"Just wondering if you had any more cheese?" asked Dink nonchalantly.

"Cheese!" Jareth hissed against her shoulder.

She put a hand to his face and gently patted. "Listen you three go along back to the kitchen, I'll be there in a moment."

"Okay!" they were gone.

She pulled his face up. "Don't hurt them," she admonished with a smile.

"Can't I just kick one of them?" he begged.

"No!" she laughed. "If anything we should thank them. We were about to do something…er, a bit foolish."

"Foolishly wonderful," he countered giving her a squeeze. They looked at each other. She hadn't shoved away or began crying in shame. He had to be thankful for that. He sighed. "Too fast?"

She nodded. "Yes, just a tad."

He scowled. "Since when is five years and two days too fast?" She laughed again and he grinned at her.