"Yes?" A frustrated Sarah asked through the door. How could she think, really think, when everyone and their dog was coming to visit?

"OH," The hairdresser took a breath. "Sarahyoujustlookwonderful!"

"Thanks, Margie," Sarah tried a smile out. "But I'm not even dressed yet, nor my hair."

"Butyouhavethatglowaboutyou," her accent and quick words all came together in a way that made Sarah's head swim. It always took her an extra minute to understand what the woman had said before Sarah could respond.

"Letsgettowork."

A good hour later, Margie left, and Sarah was rubbing her forehead from the pain she felt. Was it a headache, did Margie pull her hair too tightly? Too on edge to care, Sarah sat down at the vanity to apply her makeup.

Knock! Knock!

"What?"

"Jus meh shug," Kate peeked through the door before coming in. "Florist is settin' up, and has the corsages."

"Ok." Sarah stood up, walking to the door. Kate stucke her hand out to stop her from going out.

"Where do ya think yeh goin'?"

"Out to meet the florist?" Sarah tried, pulling a smile out.

"Ah'll take care of the corsages." She cut Sarah off from what she was about to say. She ticked of her fingers. "Parents, on both sides, Bouquets to the maids, includin' maself. Boutonnières for the groomsmen and the ushers, oh, yeh, and the groom."

She laughed over her shoulder as Sarah pushed her out the door. Nowhere near dressed, she still had sometime, though it was dwindling down. Kate had already donned on her Champagne gown. Maybe now she could take a breath…

Knock!

"Come in!"

"Yes?" she looked over to see her stepmother come in. while they still weren't as close as a mother and daughter could be, they had made progress through the years.

"Toby wanted to see you in your dress." She smiled hesitantly. "Wouldn't take no for an answer."

"It's not time yet is it?" Sarah looked around for a clock.

"No," the woman shrugged slightly. "But I thought I could help you into your dress…"

"Kate," she looked over to see that her stepmother already had her corsage on. Taking a breath she tried again. "Sure."

After she was dressed, her stepmother went to go get Toby who waited outside. With another slight knock she entered, Sarah couldn't help but wince at the knock though. Although hesitant with her stepmother, Sarah adored Toby. She walked over to him, her skirts rustling as she spun around for him. Very pleased, Toby gave her hug that mainly included her legs and waist.

With some talk later, Toby and his mother left, excusing themselves to go on with their allotted wedding duties, such as seeing to the guests and make sure things were running smoothly, very similar to Kate. Sarah fell back into her chair by the vanity, emotion and stress building a driving battle. She picked her lipstick and before she could put it on, she paused, looking at it for a long while, and then to the mirror.

Knock!

"Yes, come in."

She briefly looked in the mirror over to the door to see who could possibly be disturbing her now, and she saw flowers come through the threshold. With delight, she stood up spinning around to go over and see the beautiful and quite big bouquet. She took them from the courier, and set the vase on the table, the whole time her eyes enchanted.

Nate knew she loved calalilies! This was the wrong time for them, otherwise she would have had them for her wedding bouquet and flowers. Instead, she just had traditional red roses. She marveled at the beautiful piece, but something seemed wrong after a second when she admired them. Peach? Why where they peach and not white? Sarah had a minor vendetta with peach.

Although no one could argue that they were ugly, she found that the fading peach into the darker burnt orange color disturbed her slightly. She found her eyes on the vase, as she seemed to stare at it without truly seeing it. For a split second, it seemed as if a glass sphere float underneath the water and above the base, defying gravity as it propped the stems of the lilies up. With a closer look, Sarah found nothing of the sort. Her imagination ran rampant under stress she figured.

She turned looked through the flowers and found no card, and was surprised to find the courier still standing next to her patiently. She looked over and saw no card in his hands. Looking up at him she asked after the flowers.

"Was there a-" she stopped mid-sentence as her mouth fell out of use, and her teeth chattered together as her mouth closed again.

Through the shorter hair, and the newer clothes, she still knew him, saw him. It had been ten years, and it felt as though nothing had changed. Jareth. His irregular mismatched eyes settled on her after eyeing her dress.

"Meringue, Sarah?" the lilt in his voice, the accent, it all haunted her. He knew it. He saw it on her face.

For some time, she stared at him, how on earth could he be in front of her? He stared back in that irritatingly patient way of his. When her sense found its way back to her, Sarah fought the urge to ask him why he was here, knowing he would so love it. Unfortunately, her curiosity got the better of her quite quickly.

"What are you doing here?" she strung the words out to reciprocate her anger.

"You mean that you don't remember?" he mocked a sense of hurt. "I'm completely hurt."

"Remember?" she laughed mirthlessly. "I remember hitting my head and having this mad delusion." She lied, denying his presence.

"Now, Sarah, don't lie, it doesn't become you."

She eyed him for a minute, with a good look up and down and then back up. His face was still the same, the same hair, though shorter, without the long strands she used to imagine running her-STOP! She berated herself. Critically, she could tell by his dress he was here to attend her wedding. Her wedding. Damn! That made it real. He was here.

His black duster seemed to billow from his body slightly like in a painting. His vest, a varying shade of the darkest reds mingling with black, yielded to a crisp white shirt underneath, the top button carelessly open with the collar extended out. The black collar of the overcoat stood up dramatically as he liked. Forgoing the breeches, his black pants fit him beautifully and complimented his long frame.

"You," he decided she wasn't going to say anything, and took up the line. "Invited me." He gestured dramatically to himself as he walked over to the small loveseat that furnitured the small room.

She watched him walk to the sofa and fall gracefully in to it. Damn him. Her eyebrow was raised at his words though. She had invited him? Her skepticism was clear on her face.

"Y'ho and a bottle of rum!" His accent making the words truly scrumptious, more so than they were by themselves. He grinned in triumph as recognition dawned on her-her red lips parting as her jaw fell ungracefully open.

::Ok, ok, so I'm no traditionalist or anything. This is my first attempt at Jareth and Sarah, and I have a habit of ignoring the status quo. Not that I go out of my way to rebel, I just like to do my own thing. That said, let me apologize for Kate's accent, I was just having a bit of fun, but obviously it didn't work out to well. Oh well, she's not that important anyways-sorry Kate.

Next order of business-have fun, or enjoy I guess I should say. Don't take anything I write too seriously. A detail wrong here or there is not anything to twist panties about.

"In the end, we're all fruit." (My Big Fat Greek Wedding)