The roughest part of the day for the the not-quite-couple was sneaking back up to their room after the chaos of the day. Up a flight of stairs and around the corner and down the corridor and almost there... They thought they'd almost made it when the pair tripped over something. Well, over someone.
"Hello, Jareth," croaked a voice from off the floor, "Who's the broad?"
Looking down, Sarah saw a woman so close to menopause you could smell the life crisis coming in. Or maybe that was just the unpleasant, but vaguely familiar scent that hovered around her, wafting out of the thermos she was clutching in one hand. The woman's pale eyes were bloodshot and open wide, pupils blown out until they almost covered the gray of her irises. Her dark face was flushed and her long, pink, dress was rumpled beyond all belief. The only thing in order about her was her graying black hair, slicked back into an impeccable high bun.
"Aunty," said Jareth finally, mouth drawn into a tight line, "What the fuck?"
"Oh, don't act so surprised!" his aunt slurred, waving her free hand around, "We used to do this together, remember?"
Sarah shot her friend a sharp look and held it, turning it into a stare.
"I'd rather not," muttered Jareth, clenching his teeth as his face flushed bright red.
"Oh, come on," the lady practically shouted, "I introduced you to your first dealer! What was his name? Heinlein?"
"Hensen!" yelled Jareth, grabbing Sarah's hand and starting down the hall, "First and last dealer, old woman!"
"Right, you chickened out!"
"Sobered up!"
"Same difference! Are you gonna get laid tonight?!"
"I think you just ruined all of my chances!" snapped Jareth as he reached the door to their room and practically threw Sarah in, slamming the door behind him.
Sarah stumbled forward, coming to a stop practically on accident, and then going to sit on the bed to take it all in. Jareth just leaned against the door, watching the actress through hooded lids.
"So, uh," said Sarah after a bit, "Jim Henson, huh?"
"Does everyone in this place know?" growled Jareth, hiding his face in his hands.
A moment of silence.
"Eight years sober," said Sarah quietly.
Slowly, Jareth dropped his hands.
"Oh, god," he said, "You too?"
"High school was a tough time," sighed Sarah sullenly.
"College, for me," said Jareth, laughing darkly, "I'm surprised they didn't take my scholarship away. Remember all those parties Shady Henson threw? I climbed up on a building and threw a fake baby in the air."
Sarah stared.
"That was you?" she said, "You were Red Mullet?"
"Oh, no," groaned Jareth.
"Oh, I remember you, asshole! That fake baby was mine! And then you got me lost in that fucking hedge maze! You shithead!"
"Fuck," said Jareth, walking over to plop down on the bed, "You were wearing that stupid dress."
"Talk about coincidences."
"Well, whatever I did, Hensen's puppet collection was way worse."
"Jesus, the eyes!"
"Yeah, but they were well made."
"Jareth. Eyes."
"Ok, I admit it. The eyes were bad. But the stuff he sold was worse. Well, better, but worse."
"Fuck, I sat there for twenty minutes once, talking to a worm."
"Oh, that's nothing. Let me tell you about the time I thought I could turn into an owl!"
The two sat there, gossiping loudly well into the night.
Author's Note:
Again, I haven't updated in a while and I'm sorry. My finals start next week and I've been cramming, procrastinating, and crying like crazy. I'll write some longer chapters the week after next.
Meanwhile, maybe I could get another one shot in this weekend. Anybody interested in hearing the whole Labyrinth-Was-All-A-Bad-Trip Story that the two of them have? I might be able to do one or two short things as procrastination.