Checked for continuity, grammar, and spelling: May 3, 2011.

Chapter Twelve: Comfort and Discord

"... All of a sudden, the pipes below all twelve sinks started to shake." As he refilled their wine glasses, Marcus, as they discovered the maître d' was called, had asked Sarah why her hair was wet when it had not rained in days. She began quietly telling the story of what happened in the bathrooms, gradually becoming more and more animated. By this time, her hands were held out before her, shaking as vigorously as the pipes had been. "Then, before we knew it, water was spewing everywhere!"

By this time, Jareth's rich laughter was causing heads in nearby alcoves to turn, searching out the source and attempting to peer around the barrier of plants. Tears stood in Marcus' eyes and he appeared to be having difficulty catching his breath.

"At first," she continued, shaking her head and chuckling as well, "I thought that the faucets must have blown completely off. Thankfully it was just the water, not airborne plumbing. Otherwise I doubt I would have ever gotten away tonight."

"But what did you do?" asked Marcus, wiping his eyes.

"After a frantic phone call to the plumber, he managed to walk me through shutting off the water to the whole floor. Apparently, each floor has its own water main; otherwise, we would have had to cut the water to the entire building. I guess one year there were so many problems they had the plumbing in the whole building redone just in case there should be another problem. This was the first 'incident' since then."

"An 'incident', was it?" commented Jareth wryly.

"Apparently so." Sarah chuckled again. "Anyway, once the water was shut off, the plumber went on his way to perform an emergency call. I made some signs for the bathroom doors, printed off notices to slip under doors, and cleaned up most of the water."

"I am very impressed with your abilities at handing an emergency situation, Miss Williams." Sarah had asked him not to call her 'madam' because it made her feel old, but he refused to use either her or Jareth's first names. "But, I believe I have monopolized your time enough for one evening. Or at least for this part of it. I will return later." Still chuckling, he gave a little bow and went on his way.

"I don't think I've ever been served by the owner of a restaurant before," Sarah said quietly after Marcus left.

"Nor I. Although," he paused, thoughtful, "I cannot say that I've ever actually been to many restaurants." Sarah went off in peals of laughter once more. As they had decided what to order then waited for Marcus to return the first time, Sarah had become increasingly nervous and slightly withdrawn once again. Jareth was not quite sure what was causing it, exactly, though he suspected he could be found at the root of it all.

It was Marcus who managed to lighten the air initially. He seemed to sense her agitation and minutely adjusted his manner from that of a formal and distant waiter to something a bit more gentle, approachable, and generally friendly. Though Jareth perceived she noticed no difference, once they were alone again Sarah told him that he was exactly what she imagined a grandfather should be like, something her own had never been. With the initial barrier broken, Jareth had only a little difficulty in keeping her from closing herself in again. With the help of Marcus, who opened doors to a variety of conversations every time he returned to their table, Jareth learned more about the woman sitting before him and she became more comfortable with the idea of being in his presence.

"What I don't understand," he said, curious, "is why you had to take care of the situation on your own."

Sarah found the slight crease in his brow oddly, and mildly disturbingly, endearing. Repressing the urge to giggle, she said, "Well, it's my responsibility."

He raised an eyebrow. "You are studying there and it is your responsibility to take care of exploding sinks?"

She did giggle then. "Not exactly. It's my job. I'm an R.A."

"R.A."

"Resident Assistant. Full time authority figures in the form of students. Supposedly, since we're relatively the same age as the other residents, we are easier to relate to than non-students. We get to deal with all the personal problems residents have, as well as make sure the living environment is a safe and happy one. I don't think anyone would do it if they didn't give us free room and board. So, in exchange for free housing, we become the parents of the students living in the residence halls."

"And none of the other... R.A.'s were able to help you deal with this plumbing difficulty?"

"They probably would have if I had asked them, but at the time I had to act, not run for someone else to do it for me. If there were another R.A. assigned to my floor like there should be, it would have been easy to run down the hall. But as it happened, it would have taken too long to search the whole building. Well, come to think of it, Aggie - that's my best friend, Agnes. She's got the floor below mine - would have been easy enough to snag, but by this time I'm used to dealing with emergencies on my own."

"By this time?"

She nodded. "This is my fourth year as an R.A." He nodded at that, the rapid fire of questions ceasing for the moment as he fell silent. Her gaze travelled to his hands. He was leaning back in his chair, arms slightly stretched out to his wine glass on the table directly in front of him. He was slowly rolling the glass between his fingers, swirling the dark red liquid inside. She knew he could easily continue to do so for hours and never spill a drop. She knew as well that he was unaware he was doing it, so intently was he contemplating her. Just as he had been doing all night.

She suddenly realized that, for the first time that evening, being the object of such contemplation did not bring her discomfort. She still was not entirely sure what to make of it, but she had somehow come to accept it as simply being something he did. She had also stopped thinking of him only as 'The Goblin King, the man who took my brother and has me here for some strange and malicious reason'. Instead, he was more frequently simply 'Jareth'. She was distinctly dissatisfied and uncomfortable with that change of status. In part because it had happened at all, but more importantly, as told by the part she realized was gaining strength, because he would never be simply anything to her. What he was beyond that, though, she was not ready to deal with.

Blinking, she noticed the vaguely hypnotic movement of Jareth's glass had stilled. She brought her eyes up to meet his.

"What did you mean when you said there should be another R.A. assigned to your floor?"

Though his scrutiny caught her off guard at first, she knew that had he seemed less than genuinely interested, asking his questions to be polite, she probably would have walked out long ago. However, she felt that he was attempting to discern something about her. As with most things dealing with him, she had no idea what it was. But she readily obliged him with the answers.

"Each floor usually has two. My first year at it they gave Aggie and I the same floor. But as it was only our second year at University, and they normally did not give the position to people that age, they had a third person as well. Now we've been doing it for so long, they gave each of us our own floors this year. Apparently there was a shortage of suitable applicants for positions, otherwise I'd probably be working with someone new on my floor and she'd have been stuck over in the Graduate residence. They actually came to her and begged her to take the position this year after telling her two months prior that she couldn't apply because she was no longer an Undergraduate. There are just under sixty students per floor, so it gets to be a madhouse at times."

"Your friend, Agnes, should not be an R.A.?"

"Not for the Undergraduate Hall. She finished her degree last year. When she figured out that it would take me a fifth year to finish mine, she enrolled in the year long Teaching Certification course this University offers and decided to live on campus in the Graduate Hall rather than get an apartment of her own. She said that she couldn't leave me to deal with all the high-strung underclassmen all on my own. That I would have to have some place to escape to. Little did we think that place would be one floor below me!"

Her eyes took on a distant look, as though she suddenly went somewhere deeply personal. Jareth loved the fact that she was being completely open with him. Had he been sure it would last, he might have been tempted to whisk her Underground right then. But he knew there would be more to winning his Sarah's heart and hand than a simple dinner. He also knew he would rather it be this way, else she would not be who she was. And, likely, she would not be for him.

"I honestly don't think I could have made it through these past few years without Aggie. As much as I enjoy it, I certainly wouldn't keep agreeing to it otherwise, it hasn't been all fun and games. Being away at University instead of at home, pursuing what I wish rather than what my father thinks is best has not gone down as well as it could have. Plus everything else that went on in my personal life, all the minor crisis I've had. She's kept me from throwing in the towel, from just giving up on it all, time and again."

"You would have given up?"

She knew he was referring to her stubborn determination in the Labyrinth. Foolishly stubborn at times, she thought. But there was no malice in the question, no mocking like she may have expected. Honest surprise and curiosity, nothing more. But it gave her pause. "Well," she said after a moment of consideration, "I probably wouldn't have. But she definitely kept me relatively sane, as well as preventing me from throttling a few select people." She grinned sheepishly. "My temper has a short fuse when I am stressed out."

"Yes, I know," he murmured slowly, leaning forward.

His eyes locked on hers, she could not look away. Had she wanted to. There was something in his expression, something different but equally confusing. She was drawn to him. "Oh," she softly replied. "But how?"

"How?" He reached across the table, tucking an escaped strand of hair behind one of her ears in a gesture echoing one from the previous night. "I remember."

Her eyes widened marginally. "Oh," was all she could think to say.

Marcus stood on the edge of the scene. He was loath to interrupt them at such an obviously intimate moment. They had stopped talking, unless there was a world of information being shared through their eyes. It was definitely going well. After being in the business as long as he, one was able to tell almost instinctually. Though, he thought, it could be going better. While their admiration for each other was quite apparent, only Mr. King seemed to have accepted it. Perhaps because he is just a bit older than she and thus having slightly more life experience, acceptance of such things comes more easily. Miss Williams was hesitant for some reason, he guessed either due to a previous relationship going wrong or to a disagreement of some sort she had with Mr. King once upon a time. Perhaps a combination of both? Additionally, neither seemed aware of the other's feelings. He sighed. Ah, young things. I wonder how long it will take for them to see?

He smiled to himself, hoping he would be privy to see the dynamic of their relationship change over time. For now, he contented himself to wait for this moment to pass before suggesting dessert. That decided, he moved to make a brief tour of the dining area to survey the satisfaction of his other customers.