Fan Service Part II
"We did what?" Sarah exclaimed, jumping up from the end of the bed in a rage. She wanted to kill him.
"Now now, don't get so upset, Precious. After all, I didn't write it." Jareth stated calmly.
Sarah paced the floor in front of where he sat. "Oh, and I suppose you had absolutely nothing to do with it," she snapped.
"Nothing whatsoever," answered Jareth. "I only discovered these myself this evening."
Sarah stopped pacing, and gave him a look of sheer horror.
"These?" she screeched. "You mean there's more?" Sarah felt suddenly queasy.
"Yes, would you like me to read them to you?" Jareth offered.
"No!" Sarah shrieked in rage. "I want you to go away and leave me alone!"
Jareth studied her, surprised. "This is not the reaction I expected from you after reading you such an imaginative and romantic story, Sarah."
Sarah's eyes blazed as she stared angrily at him. "You don't get it, do you?" she asked. "That story…I…we…romantic?" She threw her hands into the air in frustration.
Jareth rose from the chair and stood next to her, studying her flushed cheeks and flashing eyes.
"What is it, Dearest?" he questioned softly. "What upsets you so?"
Sarah turned to face him and found hius face very near her own. She forced herself not to flinch as her eyes fell on his pale, pink, perfect lips.
"We are not romantic," she replied icily.
A wicked smile spread across Jareth's face and a twinkle of mischief glimmered in his mis-matched eyes. "We could be," he purred.
Sarah faltered, only for the briefest moment, but long enough for him to see and smirk.
"You are insufferable," she told him. "You are an insufferable-"
Jareth touched a gloved finger to her lips. "I know, I know," he said. He flicked his other hand across the tablet screen. "Where was it?" he muttered to himself. "Ah yes, here it is. I am 'an insufferable, egotistical, cheating rat-bastard.' Is that it?"
Sarah just glowered at him.
"Well?" Jareth asked expectantly.
"Well, what?" Sarah echoed, irritated. She furrowed her brow and clenched her teeth.
"I'm waiting for my inevitable, lustful snog." Answered Jareth.
"Your what?"
"Come come, Dearest, that's how it goes, is it not? I'm insulting but irresistible, you're sulky but alluring, we verbally spar, reach an impasse, and then snog each other's brains out, right?"
Sarah opened her mouth to speak, but her tongue refused to form the words. Instead, a strange gurgling sound escaped her throat.
Jareth grinned and took a step toward her. "So, about that snog…"
Sarah stepped forward and leaned into Jareth's face as far as she dare go without touching him. "In your dreams, Jareth," she spat.
Jareth grinned even wider at her, his eyes dancing. "Ooh ooh!" he exclaimed. "I know this bit." With a graceful flourish, he produced a shining crystal and let it glide over his outstretched hand from palm to knuckles and then back again. He cleared his throat and took a dramatic stance as if preparing to recite a line from a Shakespearean play.
"Oh Sarah," he crooned in a melodramatic tone, "If you wish to discuss dreams, I think yours are far more interesting and …creative." He held the crystal out for her to see.
Sarah folded her arms over her chest and glared at him.
"Come now, Precious," teased Jareth. "Don't look at me that way when you set that one up."
"Go to hell, Jareth." Sarah hissed as she walked away.
"Yes, that reminds me… Did you know that I'm the devil?"
Sarah stopped in her tracks and spun around. "You're what?" she cried incredulously.
"Yes, it's all right here," answered Jareth as he tapped the screen on the tablet, scanning the words before handing it to Sarah. She took the tablet from him and read the section he had indicated.
*Shit!*
"Impressive, isn't it? I had no idea," Jareth told her proudly.
"Yeah. Big surprise.
A little (not so little) nod to the always excellent Subtilior in this part. I'll say no more than that in case you haven't read her breathtaking story In a Glass, Darkly. If you haven't, shame on you. Go read it. Right now.
Oh, and if it isn't obvious, I own none of these characters. They belong to their respective creators. Although, if they asked, I'd gladly take them off their hands.