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Her trials in the Labyrinth when she was just fifteen had taught Sarah the necessity of determination. And that she'd been a spoiled brat to wish her toddler brother away in the first place.
Sarah could never regret meeting the Goblin King though. Her teenage heart had nearly burst when he offered her the wishes and dreams of her heart. Thankfully she had realized it had to be a trick to keep Toby there in the Underground. At least that's what she kept telling herself all these years later. After all, she was only fifteen then and really, she didn't want to think he was some kind of creep who preyed on kids. She shuddered and shook her head as she finished her notes for Tina Marie in the document on Mr. Braham's requests, and muttered to herself, "Can't trick me..."
The Goblin King had played a starring role in her impossible daydreams for years, but alas, that's pretty much where he stayed. Well, she giggled, besides my mirror when I spy on him.
Funny thing, that mirror. She could call on her friends all she liked, and even those on not-so-friendly terms.
One night when she was tired from a hard day at her office and had guzzled a few glasses of wine too many, she decided she wanted to see the handsome fae who glittered with every step of leather and tight breech clad perfection. Who cared that he had been a seductive and spoiled jerk?
She smirked, Oh how it must have burned his biscuits when I defeated the Labyrinth and won back Toby. Sarah had still wondered if he stuffed socks down his pants, so in her inebriated state she decided to take a peek.
"Show me Jareth's crotch, please." Little did she know that with the sniggering of those words, she had begun her shame spiral. Unknowingly, spying on his majesty sealed her fate.
Sarah had gasped, dropped the empty wineglass onto the floor, and blushed to the roots of her hair. Behold, before her was the same well-endowed outline she recalled as a teenager; only tonight he was dressed in fawn colored tights.
Ooo baby, tighty tight tights, she drooled appreciatively and started to reach towards the mirror. I wonder if I could get my hands around- she mentally slapped herself out of her stupor and requested the mirror to show the Goblin King.
Maybe reminding herself of who's cock she was lusting after would give her some drunken perspective.
His gorgeous white blond hair and intense blue and brown eyes appeared within the beveled surface. The wicked up-tilted brows were the same as his cruelly thin lips. Jareth truly seemed to have aged very little, although his face was pinched and tired-looking. His white poet shirt was rolled up on his arms, the shorter than normal black hessian boots offsetting for the brown tights. He looks so... dejected, she took a closer look at his face and placed her hand on the cool glass surface.
Somewhere in the vicinity of her heart, she had felt a twist and a tug that made her pause.
Could she really be feeling sorry for him? He was an all-powerful immortal Fae (she'd done her research after the Labyrinth, that's for sure). No way, she denied. Still, a portion of her heart and mind whispered to each other, "Look how alone he is, and how weary he seems. Reach out a hand to him."
"Yeah, I'll reach out a hand to him... and grab his nards!" she muttered and then calmed, sudden tears blurring her vision. Sarah had gulped; she was alone and weary too. Too bad for both of them.
Over the last year she had been spending copious amounts of time in front of the mirror, studying him in all his dickish wonder. Autocratic, definitely a type A personality, and … and … Sarah sighed wistfully, that lithe body.
Technically, Jareth the Goblin King was still her adversary though a decade had passed. A survivor always had to know where it's enemies were, she rationalized.
Most of the time she saw him on his throne of bones, poring over documents or directing the Goblins on projects. They were doing some kind of 'Beautify the Underground' project from what she could catch in the conversations amongst him and what appeared to be his foremen -err foregoblins. His eyes would narrow as he stood over large parchment scrolls; she imagined them to be blueprints of some kind. Other times she would covertly watch him strolling the gardens, amongst the Underground gardeners; again delegating and oftentimes cussing them out – or rather, guttural shouts that passed for cussing in the lower world. Sometimes she would observe Jareth at a heavily carved desk in what she was sure was a study or library. Always pensive, surrounded by books and a goblet studded with green jewels. Never had she seen him less than fully attired or in a compromising situation. She dared to hope for that day, and yet knew something inside her would wither and die if she knew there was someone else for him.
Ughhh! She almost wished that she could go back to that costume-wearing-makeup-weilding-melodramatic-teenager. Life was simpler ten years ago, but then again, so was what she wanted out of it. Lines were clearly drawn as an adult. Sometimes being a grown-up was an absolute clusterfuck of regrets.
Sarah had completed high school, drama dreams intact, but reality hit hard after college when she realized that majoring in the liberal arts hadn't done her any favors. Luckily, she had minored in business, so she had something to fall back on when her acting career didn't pan out.
The day after graduation, she hot-footed it out to the West coast to soak up the sun and sand. This would not been one of her regrets, Sarah swore. She'd been lucky enough to find an apartment to share with a few other wannabe actresses for cheap rent in decent neighborhood. While auditioning for different parts in projects she had waited tables, sure that choice parts would come her way soon. She snorted aloud. Choice jobs, my fanny!
She had landed a few commercials for hemorrhoid cream, of all things, that placed her on a mechanical bull. By the end of the shoots she really did need the stupid cream. Gah.
Then there were those lovely florist commercials – too bad she developed hay fever the week of shooting. Itchy red watery eyes showed up fantastic in closeups, but were a disaster on set. Thankfully an allergy ad had bought up her stills from the shoot so it wasn't a total loss.
Oh, oh!, she reminded herself, What about the print ads for the hot dog place on Rodeo? She'd nearly choked on the wiener and bun the first few hours of the shoot.
The photographer and management had kept the shutters clicking until she finally did choke and ended up throwing up on the photog's leather Prada boots. Dumbass; she'd told him she was going to spew and he refused to listen when she told him she had a bad gag reflex.
Well, whatever, she grinned to herself and waved away the memories. She had lived cheaply for nearly five years and invested very wisely. Now she lived in her own two bedroom condo down the street, and made enough to live comfortably while she was pursuing her Masters in Business Management. She had a thriving, legitimate business of which to be proud. She really couldn't complain. Her family back East called and occasionally visited. Toby was a well-adjusted high school sophomore. Sarah shrugged mentally, They have their lives there and mine is here.
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So now she sat, in the understated and somewhat cramped offices of "Valentine Evenings" in West Hollywood acting as their overnight reservations rep.
You'd think owning an escort service would be glamourous, wouldn't you? Sarah winced. Just last year she'd had to hire additional office staff to act as 'Management' so the girls wouldn't think she was playing favorites with clients. Her girls could be such bitches if they didn't think they were getting their 'due'.
She paid the bills and took care of payroll, but she'd handed over the daily control to capable hands until she graduated in a couple years. Right now, taking reservations overnight and catching up on any paperwork was her main job. Occasionally she would get to step out as an escort, but those dates were few and far between. Hell, she didn't even have time for a real love life of her own, so getting paid for a date certainly beat sitting at home with her cat – cat! - eating tuna salad sandwiches and dill pickles watching movies from the 80s.
"But no, I'm not bitter about the missing male piece of my life. Not at all." Her mind's eye fixed on a beautiful being with mismatched eyes – and a pair of tight, tight pants that left little to the imagination. She fanned herself and grinned stupidly.
In a way, he was responsible for her picking up and moving to Hollywood aka Hollyweird. She'd always thought if he was ever going to pop back into her life again – a fond wish – that he would feel most at home in this melting pot of humanity. The Goblin King could blend in without arousing suspicion, unless he decided to have the Goblins follow behind him. That would be a red flag to avoid him, even for the freaks. I wonder if the glitter he exudes would cover up the trail of goblins. Giggling, she tried to imagine Jareth in all his glitterific Glam playing the Pied Piper to a line of goblins.
Thinking of the goblins reminded her she needed to contact Hoggle soon. Silly as it sounded, she still kept in regular touch with her Labyrinth friends. Sarah never directly asked about Jareth, fearing the King would somehow hear and sniff her out.
She tried to check in every few weeks with the boys, but things had been busier than usual this spring what with school and the company. Also, Hoggle and the missus were expecting number four, so they were doubtless busy themselves. Hmm... maybe I should contact Didymus and see if he and Ludo would like to come and watch that Fairy Tale movie with Drew Barrymore. She'd gotten an advanced copy from one of V.E.'s regular clients who was a studio head. She knew that Ludo and Didymus – aka "Lou" and "Diddy S." as she called them, were trainers for the that ragtag Goblin Army of Jareth's and would probably appreciate a night off. She made a mental note to call them on the mirror tomorrow.
Well, at least she had good friends – both human and fairy tale, a place to live, and her own company. Yes, life was good, she mused, even without male companionship.