Disclaimer: I don't own Labyrinth, Sarah or Jareth. I care nothing for owning Labyrinth or Sarah, but Jareth – *ahem* well, let's just say I'd be happy to own him. *wistful sigh*
Warning: Rated T for innuendo, some minor language and norti thoughts. Rating may change (depends on how choco-fied my muse is when I write the last chapter).
No goblins were harmed in the writing of this story, although several were emotionally scarred when they found out what the item in the brown paper wrapping was really for, they were then promptly bogged by Sarah for nicking it in the first place.
Author's Note: Please review. Reviews make me happy and give me inspiration to keep writing! :)
Of Dreams, Wishes and Brown Wrapping Paper
Ch. 2: Dream or Nightmare
Wednesday, October 22nd – evening
He watched her silently as she followed the gaggle of girls out of the large brick house. Really, a group of college girls should probably be called a 'giggle', he thought with a sense of wicked amusement. Particularly considering that is about all they ever seem to do.
Hanging in the air slightly behind the group, he coasted upon the rising updrafts as he continued to watch her. The way she trudged behind the group, spoke volumes. Clearly, she did not want to be going with them, where-ever it was they were headed. He could not understand why she was going along with it if she didn't want to, that was certainly not the head-strong girl he knew.
Because she is a woman now, replied his inner-voice with a knowing nod.
…. Believe me, I am well aware of her womanly attributes, he thought to himself as he gazed appreciatively upon the brunette beauty. Yes, she had indeed become a stunning woman, curving with feminine softness in all of the appropriate places, places he longed to caress and kiss and…. He let the thought die a withering death, as it was merely an exercise is self-torture to continue. With a low sigh of frustration he continued to follow them.
… I just have to be content to haunt her dreams, he thought.
For the moment at least, agreed his inner-self sagely.
To hold her in his arms and finally feel her melting against him, it was a dream too long in the making. Yet, he had to wait a few days more. The time was not yet right. No, he had to satisfy himself with making her squirm, knowing the effect that her fleeting encounters with him, combined with the dreams, were having upon her.
Floating in a lazy arc, he watched as the group entered the library, a brunette mother duckling herding an unruly 'giggle' of blonde ducklings through the large glass doors.
Careful 'Mother Duck', he chuckled, swooping down low into a small stand of pines near the building, his feathered body giving an expansive shudder as his form elongated and shimmered into being. You can protect the ducklings, but then who will protect you?
As he peered into the windows, he saw her lead the group to the tables. Sarah's green eyes shimmered brightly, her lips twisting into a smirk as she watched her charges stand behind their chairs. With a slight nod of her head they spoke as one, beginning a small chant and arm movements, making those around them pause their studies to watch the silly song and dance. When they had finished, Sarah nodded once more, giving them leave to sit.
Jareth chuckled, his mismatched eyes glinting sharply in the dim light reflected from the nearby lamppost. He had watched Sarah often enough to know that she was the only one who made her charges do silly and humiliating things. She really could be cruel.
She was more like him than she would ever admit, but that was part of what drew him to her. She was his match. He knew it. And it would only be a matter of time before he'd make sure she knew it too.
After torturing her pledges by having them sing 'I'm a little tea-pot', complete with all of the hand motions, Sarah settled down at a nearby table with the Pledge Masters and Mistresses from the other Greek houses on campus. Pulling out a thick stack of index cards, she began to review names, dates and information for her upcoming psychology exam. That was when she felt it. Something she had not felt since she had arrived back in her room after her labyrinth adventure – the feel of magic, both tantalizing and terrifying at the same time, like a slight swirling sensation in the back of her mind.
Whoa…that is downright freaky, she thought in wonder.
Glancing up she saw him, gliding through the glass entryway of the library, looking for all the world like it was perfectly natural for him to be there. Clearly the magical sensation came from him, but she couldn't understand why she felt it now and didn't feel it the first few times she saw him.
Sarah held her breath as she watched him, expecting him to keep walking toward the bank of elevators that lead to the upper levels. She bit back a gasp as he turned and walked…
… Right toward me. Holy shit. The Goblin King is coming this way. And he is looking right at me! Mayday! Danger! Danger!
Sarah slouched in her chair, her head falling forward as if she were engrossed in the flashcards in her hand. Moments passed that felt like hours, before she realized he had not spoken to her and had not even approached the table. Peering from beneath the protective veil of brown hair that had fallen over her face, she saw that he had settled into the leather armchairs nearby, apparently reading a newspaper.
With her head still bowed enough to hide her face from view, Sarah finally examined him, as he flipped through the paper.
… Okay, maybe he isn't the Goblin King,she thought as she studied him. After all, his hair is much different, it is short and a bit darker and he isn't wearing the flouncy stuff the Goblin King favors. But, then again, he does have those eyes….
You mean eyes that seem to look directly into your soul and see the barest desires of your heart? Making your knees weak and your lips imagine the feel of his? Those eyes? Chirped her libido being imminently unhelpful.
… Yes, those eyes. Sarah thought in disgust at the traitorous words of her libido.
They may seem traitorous, but I notice you haven't said they weren't true, retorted her libido with a victorious smirk.
… Hmmm….he is wearing gloves.
Soft, luscious leather gloves from the looks of it, purred her libido, already imagining the feel of those leather clad fingers gliding along her throat, before her inner-self interjected in a sensible fashion, But it is late fall and cold out. Wearing gloves means nothing. His hands could just be cold.
… Damn it all! This isn't helping. I still don't know if it is him or not. And even if it is, what does he want? She moaned inwardly as she continued to stare at the man who may, or may not be, her childhood villain, the one she considered her arch nemesis, the one….
You dream about having do all kinds of wonderful things to your more than willing body, replied her libido with a smug grin.
Is he or isn't he. That was the question that burned inside her brain, eating away at her like waves against the shore.
You could just ask him, suggested her inner-voice being reasonable and logical as usual, but you'd have to ask the right question I suppose.
Now there was the goblin-esque logic she had begun to expect from herself.
… Oh yes. Now there is a great conversation starter. 'Hi. You look like my childhood villain. Tell me, are you the Goblin King?' And that is assuming that if he is the Goblin King he'd tell the truth anyway, and everyone knows you can't trust the Fae.
It was all Jareth could do to keep from laughing.
Sarah thought she was hiding the fact that she was staring at him, but her hair didn't hide her nearly as well as she hoped. He studiously pretended to read the newspaper, when in reality, he was studying her as she studied him. Watching her face carefully as she peeked at him, he could see her inner struggle as plainly as if it were happening audibly – she was trying to decide if he was who she thought he was.
… Silly Sarah. If you'd only listen to your heart, you'd know the answer already.
The hours passed. He watched her, watching him, the index cards lying forgotten and untouched in her hands. As time passed, other groups stood, gathering their belongings and left the study area, until only Sarah and her charges remained, her charges getting visibly restless and anxious to leave.
Jareth watched silently. A bemused smile teasing his thin lips as he waited to see what she would do.
Finally, she stood, stretching her legs from sitting in one position for so long.
"Grab your things and head back to the house. Sister Carrie will be supervising Study Hall tomorrow night. I'll be working on a research paper and don't want to be disturbed unless it is an emergency," she said, her green gaze washing over the tired pledges.
"Yes Pledge Mistress," the group sang out, before dissolving into a mass of giggling and gossiping little ducklings once more.
Taking a deep breath, Sarah made up her mind. She picked up her leather satchel, slinging it over her shoulder as she made her way toward the lounge area by the newspaper racks. She wasn't going to approach him, just put herself in his direct path and see what he did.
Sarah hoped she didn't look as nervous as she felt, when she dropped her bag next to the leather armchair opposite his. The old leather chair gave a groan and cranky squeak as she flopped into it, slouching down so that her legs were dangling over one arm of the chair, while her head was propped up on the other. Studiously ignoring him, she began to flip through her stack of flashcards, trying desperately to will herself to actually study.
Putting down the paper, Jareth watched her, a smile tugging at his lips as she ignored him. She really was lovely, especially since she was working so hard to seem steely and cold, when in fact he knew her to be soft, warm and delectable.
"Isn't it rude not to greet an old acquaintance when one meets them?" he drawled, his voice a quiet purr in the sterile silence of the library. "I was wondering how long it would take before came to confront me, Sarah."
Pale hands gripped the stack of index cards tightly, as she slowly raised her gaze to meet his. Sarah forced her eyes upward, refusing to look away as his mismatched eyes caught hers, the laughter in his eyes nearly making her grab her bag and run for the hills.
Swallowing deeply, she managed to whisper, her voice sounding thick and muddy to her ears, "So it is you."
"Did you really think me to be someone else?" he chuckled, smiling broadly now. She couldn't help but watch as he spread his hands upon his knees.
… Why do his hands fascinate me so? She wondered in dismay.
Because you have dreamt what they could do if you'd let them, muttered her libido, as it shivered in hormonal glee at the sound of his voice, a voice which was as magical and seductive as she remembered – Even more so, insisted her libido.
Finding her backbone, Sarah glared at him, her emerald eyes flickering defiantly, "Well, I certainly wasn't expecting you," she challenged. "Not here and most certainly not now."
Jareth flashed an impish grin at her, leaning forward in his chair, his gaze seeming to penetrate her very core. "Does my presence bother you that much, Precious?"
Sarah opened her mouth to speak, but finding no retort she snapped it shut again. Although she couldn't find the words she wanted, she knew one thing – she really wanted to slap that supercilious smirk off his face. The sense that he was laughing at her setting a slow burning fire of frustration inside her, one which licked at her insides.
Shrugging, she returned her attention to the index cards in her hand.
…Mustn't let him know that he has an effect on me, she repeated inwardly like a mantra.
"It is a free country. You can go where you like," Sarah paused, then considering who she was talking to and the reputation the Fae had for finding verbal loopholes, amending her statement, "Within reason I guess."
"Within reason, Precious? Do explain," he enquired smoothly, his voice lilting with unvoiced laughter. Jareth's eyes sparkled merrily as he looked at her, relishing the discomfort she fought so hard to ignore.
"Well, you can go anywhere you like in public and wherever you are invited in private. So, I suppose you have every right to be here now if you so choose, Goblin King, since the library is a public space," came the sharp retort.
… How can he say so little and make me so mad at him, she wondered, trying to still the shake that her hands had suddenly developed as he rose from his chair and moved toward her.
"And would you care to invite me somewhere… private… sweet Sarah?" he asked, leaning against the arm of the chair where her feet now dangled, his head inclined looking down at her form as she slouched even deeper into the chair.
…How can he take a simple question and make it sound so…
Wonderful, suggested her libido. Seductive?
… Perverted.
Not liking the feeling of him looking down on her, Sarah straightened up in the chair, before rising and perching on the arm of the chair, opposite where he was now leaning. Back at face-level with him, she felt stronger and more able to beat him at whatever game he was now playing.
But what if he isn't playing a game? asked her libido.
Do shut up! Ordered her inner-self, feeling decidedly cranky and off balance by the whole exchange.
"While verbally sparring is always entertaining, Goblin King, why don't you tell me why you are really here? Because if it is to try to trick me into inviting you back into my life, you can just forget it," she snapped, somewhat surprised by her own boldness and at the same time dismayed by the twinge her heart gave as she shot him down….again.
Feigning pain, he placed an elegantly gloved hand against his chest.
"You wound me, Precious. That you would think I would be here merely to trick you, when by your own lips, I have no power over you," he murmured in a bemused tone, his voice dropping low. "Besides, there are much more pleasant ways to spend our time than sparring verbally, Sarah."
Sarah's train of thought missed the station at the mention of her lips, which led to thoughts of his lips, and the melding of the two. It was then derailed completely by images of what might be more pleasant ways to spend time with him than sparring verbally.
… gah!
Yes, please, cooed her libido, before her inner-self could tackle it, attempting to lock it away once more.
… I never had to put up with these sorts of thoughts before….
The dreams of the Goblin King started… crowed her libido triumphantly as it escaped the clutches of her inner-voice of reason, and streaked stark naked through her mind, making Sarah blush hotly.
"Well, if you aren't here to trick me, why are you here, Goblin King?" she asked, looking pointedly at him as he smoothed the leather gloves over his hands. She watched mesmerized as the leather clad fingers ran over each other.
….gah! she thought again, fighting the rising heat that settled into the pit of her stomach.
A rumbling chuckle broke her reverie, the sound like a velvet caress, deep and luxurious.
"It is near Samhain, my dear. Surely you are aware that the veil between the worlds is thin at this time of year," he explained patiently, his voice still edged with amusement. "For those of us with, shall we say, expanded life expectancies, this season provides a time to reconnect with others. I merely thought it might be nice to reacquaint myself with you."
…. Now that you are such a lovely woman rather than a mere slip of a girl.
"Acquaintances, huh?" she muttered, shaking her head slightly as she processed this tidbit of information. "Don't you mean adversaries, Goblin King?"
"No, no, no. Of course not," he chuckled again, the sound sending goosebumps racing wildly up her spine to dig themselves into the base of her skull, making her tremble. Frowning, she glared at him again, hoping he hadn't noticed the tremble.
Jareth didn't miss her reaction, and chuckled again before continuing, "We were never really adversaries, Precious. I was merely doing my job and you were doing what you felt you must. I had hoped we could put those events behind us and begin anew."
"Yeah, 'cause that is what I told myself when I woke up today – 'Let's forget what hell the Goblin King put me through and just make up and be friends'," Sarah snarked with a dismissive wave of her hand.
Knowing full well that her waking thoughts were of him and much kinder than those she voiced, Jareth smiled, a hungry shark look flashing over his face as his thin lips framed sharp teeth. "Did you just, Precious? I am so pleased to hear that you agree with me on the matter. And the name, sweet Sarah, is Jareth. I should rather like you to use it in future."
"Get used to disappointment then, Goblin King," she replied, a bit more sharply than she had intended.
… Here he is extending an olive branch, and all I seem capable of is insulting him. What the hell is up with that? She wondered, a frown briefly creasing her forehead.
Jareth leaned back, watching as she fought with herself. He knew very well that she was at war within herself over whether to believe him.
… Still so stubborn, sweet Sarah.
Deep down he knew that she would eventually take the chance. While not predictable by any means, Sarah would never turn down a dare, and that is exactly what he was going to give her.
"Hmm…still so cruel, Sarah. You have no real reason to be cruel to me, Precious. After all, I only ever did what you asked of me."
Before she could think of a snarky reply, Sarah saw Carrie race past the picture window near them, and groaned. This can't be good. Carrie threw herself through the open glass doors, running up to them to collapse panting and breathless in the chair Jareth had recently vacated.
"So…glad…found…you!" Carrie gasped, clutching her sides. Catching her breath, she glared at Sarah. "You do know that you have the whole freaking house in an uproar? You're supposed to escort the pledges to and from study hall. For some reason, none of them knew where you were. Jackie is on the verge of calling campus police to send out a search party!"
Pausing to take in the sight of the tall blonde man sitting on the other arm of the chair across from her best friend, Carrie grinned. "Of course, if he is the one who distracted you, more power to you."
Standing, Jareth held out a hand to Carrie, "Call me Greg. And yes, she already overpowered me, not that I am complaining, mind you."
Sarah flushed crimson.
Carrie fixed the cool blonde guy with a quiet look. Raising an eyebrow she studied him, then looked at Sarah, taking in the sheepish look on her best friend's face.
"Hmm…it seems as though I am interrupting something, so I'll just head to the coffee shop and wait for you then, huh Sarah?" grinned Carrie, flinging herself to her feet once more.
"That is quite alright, I was just leaving," smiled Jareth, his mismatched eyes sparkling mischievously. "We already made arrangements to meet for coffee tomorrow at 2pm, I believe you are free then, Sarah?"
Sarah nibbled her lip in confusion, her green eyes narrowing, "We did? I am?"
"Yes," came the quiet reply, served with an impish smirk that dared her to deny the date, "We did and you are."
Carrie returned the grin and nodded, there was something compelling about this new guy and Sarah definitely needed someone to help her work out the frustration instilled in her by the Goblin King dreams, it might as well be Greg.
"Well, if for some reason Sarah here stands you up, you should really drop by…."
A flash of movement behind the tall blonde caught Carrie's eye. She glanced at Sarah who was frantically waving her hand across her throat while her other hand was making a 'shhh' motion.
"…. the house," Carrie finished, her voice rising to a squeak at Sarah's pantomime.
Seeing Greg's face light up as she finished, Carrie felt ice water pump through her veins with the realization that she had done something wrong. Greg's eyes flashed brilliantly as his lips twisted into a Cheshire cat grin. Yup. Something very, very, wrong.
"Thank you so much for the kind invitation," he purred silkily. "I will be sure to do just that. In the meantime ladies, I bid you good night."
Turning, he glided from the library. It was then that Sarah noticed the remaining women all raised their heads to watch as he walked by, looking at him like he was a bag of cookies at a Weight Watcher's meeting.
…What the hell? She wondered, seeing the glazed expressions on their faces as they watched him.
Carrie and Sarah looked at each other, then collapsed into the chairs, Sarah sitting with her face in her hands as Carrie peeked over the top of the chair, watching the blonde man walk past the picture window outside the library. She could have sworn he looked straight at her and winked, but surely he couldn't see her through the mirrored glass?
"Um…Sarah….wh…who was that was that guy?"
"The one person you should never, ever give an open invitation to," replied Sarah, her voice muffled by her hands.
Carries eyes shone brightly as Sarah's meaning struck home, a gasping moan escaping her lips, "Well butter my butt and call me a biscuit! He's hot!"
"Eloquent as always, Carrie," muttered Sarah, wondering if it was too late to join a convent or run away with the circus.
"If you don't want him, pass him to me," Carrie whistled low, her eyes glassy as she stared into space. "Wow. Nice ass."
Seeing the change in Carrie, Sarah grumbled… Bloody Fae and their enchantments.
"Snap out of it, Carrie. You're under an enchantment, like every other woman in here from the looks of things. Besides, trust me when I say this, his type of love would come with a price that I'm not sure any sane woman would be willing to pay."
Even you? Asked her libido.
… Maybe.