Disclaimer: I do not own anything but Wren, not matter how much I wish I did.

DanikaLareyna: AAAACKK! DANIKA! What kind of girl do you think I am? What kind of girl do you think Wren is? Yikes! Okay, next chapter, I have a lot of 'splaining to do…

Sanoru: You know, thank you for being such a loyal reader/reviewer. I so appreciate it!

Anij: Hee… Wren does have a temper… but it's never long lived. She's stubborn, but… meh, she likes Jareth to much to hold it against him for too long. And, yes, that is a first… hence why I did it! Hee! I mean, why I had Wren do it… ah, you know what I meant.

Trickypop: -sniff- Aw, you really like it? Thank you SO much! Okay, this hides links, so I'll send you the URL. And, yes, there is a book, but it was based on the movie, not the other way around - it was the junior novelization. Unfortunately, it's very hard to find... and expensive, once you do. I swear, I am half tempted to transcript the whole thing for people! But, try ebay or Amazon – I found two there.

Yami Moon: Yes, he really did have it coming. Hee. And thanks for the songs! I'll have to check them out…

Adelaide Holmes: Whoohoo! I'm very excited that you like it! Aw, sheesh, you're making me blush! Next chapter should be up soon.

Notwritten: Thank you!

Music recommendations:

No One Needs to Know by Shania Twain – minus the 'tall dark' line, this is a lot of Wren's thoughts. I love this song so much… seriously, if you've never heard it, go listen. Or, I dunno, at least go look up the lyrics.

Hungry Eyes by Eric Carmen – hmm… kinda fitting for dinner, don't you think?

I don't think I had ever been as nervous about my cooking before.

There were many reasons for my fear and anxiety. First of all, I was, despite my connection to him, cooking for a King. Second of all, I was, despite his title, cooking for my sorta-boyfriend. Third of all, we'd never had an official date, so this dinner would be a big first. Fourth of all, and the final thing I intend to list (because this list could really keep going on and on if I let it do so), I had never seen Jareth eat, much less eat Aboveground food… and I kinda wanted it to be nice.

My first problem was in what to make. I was half-determined to cook this stuff on my own, unless I absolutely couldn't do it, you know, without blowing myself up or something like that.

So, the big question was, what does one cook for the Goblin King?

I sat down in my room, making a list of what I wanted to make for him. Foreign food? Italian, Greek, Mexican… but, what if those were all too spicy for him? I didn't know how delicate his Fae system would be. I left them under a 'maybe' section of my list. What about 'home cooking'? Potatoes, biscuits, chicken… would that be too primitive for his tastes? Meh, those went under 'maybe', too.

But… what about grilled food? Technically, that was home cooked… but much yummier. And… okay, I scribbled a few notes onto my list and made a grab for my cell phone, punching in my speed dial.

I didn't have a grill, and, honestly, I had no grill recipes … but I knew who did. And, if I wanted this done right, I had to get the best.

"Hey, Lachlan?" I said into the phone, "I need a favor…"

The next afternoon, after I had gotten off from work, I found myself with raw meat skewers, fruit and vegetables, sweating over the grill in my brother's back yard.

Lachlan, always nearby to make sure I didn't cause an explosion on his propane grill, was watching me curiously while helping to put the vegetables and odd fruit I had picked out on the skewers.

I eyed him strangely, flipping over some burgers. "What's with the eye?" I asked.

He smiled, focusing on some pineapple, "I was just wondering if you were going to tell me about this guy you're seeing…"

My eyes went huge as I grabbed a skewer and shoved my own piece of pineapple on it. Thinking fast, I sighed, "I don't know what you're talking about, Lach."

"C'mon, Wren," he said, nudging my arm, "Don't give me that. Orla's not here, you know. You can't fool me into thinking that you want to go to all this trouble just for yourself."

I frowned at him, "I do like your grilling, Lachlan. Isn't that reason enough?"

"In this case? No. Look, you've got four burgers and several kabobs… it's all even numbered. I get the feeling you're making a dinner for two. Usually, when you want my grilling, we cook up enough for a month, not a single dinner."

I said nothing. Lachlan really knew me too well.

"Do I get to know the name of the man who my baby sister is completely stuck on?"

I blushed as I flipped another burger, "I'm not stuck on him."

From the corner of my eye, I could see Lachlan grinning, "So there is a guy…"

"Fine, there is. Don't tell Orla."

He shook his head, his dark shoulder length hair swaying, "You're nuts, you know. I won't tell her, but she'll find out eventually."

I snorted, "Oh, I know. But… I'm putting it off for as long as I can."

There was silence except for the sizzle of the grill.

"Mind if I ask why?"

"Why what, Lach?"

He raised an eyebrow at me, "Why you want to hide him from us."

I closed my eyes, "It's… complicated. It's not that I'm wanting to hide him, per se, but…" I sighed, not knowing how to finish the sentence. I couldn't tell Lachlan. As great as a big brother as he was, he was very practical. He wouldn't believe me.

His face went stern, "Wren… you're not seeing a married guy, are you?"

I faced him and accidentally smacked his arm with the spatula. "No! Gosh, Lach! What kind of person do you take me for?"

Rubbing his arm (luckily he had sleeves on, so I hadn't burnt him), he looked away, "Then what's the deal? Why hide him?"

I took the burgers off and started putting on the kabobs, "I'm not hiding him. He's…" my mind raced, "He's… an older guy, okay?"

Lachlan shrugged, "So?"

I swallowed, "You remember the problem with older guys, right? First of all, Mom and Dad frown on me liking them, and second of all, Orla always went after them, regardless of age. To see if there were good enough for me, she said. Yeah…" I trailed off, remembering the many times my older sister had dated the guy I had had a crush on.

Lachlan nodded, remembering as well. My family all well remembered the explosion that had erupted when it had happened for the third time, and I had snapped. Orla, while she always seemed to have the compulsion to go after what I wanted, stopped after I nearly choked her with her own bra and had to be pulled off by Persephone before I succeeded. Yeah, that had been a pleasant thing to explain to my parents.

"I thought you forgave her for that, Wren," he said, quietly after a while.

I sighed, "I did, Lachlan… but… well, I forgave and forgot the first incident – and then it happened again, right? After two more times, I forgave her, but engraved the incident into my memory, lest it happen again."

He shook his head, "Orla's not like that, now."

"Then why does she care so much? You can't blame me for not wanting to tell her his name. I trust him, very much, but Orla… well, lets say I don't want to have a falling out with her."

"Falling out?"

I turned over a couple of kabobs and reached for a bun to toast on the grill, "If she makes a move on a person I really care about, who, for the first time in my life seems to have as much interest in me as I do in him, I won't be responsible for what I strangle her with."

I frowned at the grill for a moment before I felt Lachlan's arms around my shoulders, giving me a hug.

"Look, whatever happens with your mystery man," he said with a smirk, "You can trust me, and… I will do my best to support you and keep Orla off him."

Surprised at my usually over protective brother, I grinned, "You will? Really?"

"Of course," he gave me a tight squeeze. "I don't know this man of yours… but, I do know that I have not seen you this happy in… well, I don't think I've ever seen you this happy. It's like you're living in a perpetual world of Christmas mornings,"

I giggled and blushed. Lachlan laughed, too.

"Well, okay, maybe not that… but all the same – you're a smart kid, and I trust your judgment. If he can see my baby sister for the wonderful, beautiful, special person that she is, he can't be all that bad."

I fought a wave of emotion that rolled over me and turned around to hug him back. "Thank you, Lachlan. It's so great to hear you say that."

Being as how I was 'subjecting' him to the Aboveground food, as he called it, I let Jareth set the time and place of where we would have our dinner. I was surprising him of what we were eating, and he was keeping the location a huge secret. Well, perhaps I shouldn't say huge… I mean, he wasn't making a big deal of it, he was just refusing to tell me unless I told him what we would be eating, first – which I wasn't about to do… mainly because at the time, I hadn't decided yet.

As long as it wasn't the bog, or the fiery forest, I would be fine with it.

Jareth informed me it would be, in accordance with Aboveground tradition, Friday night, after I got off work.

But… it was how he notified me that made me smile. It had been Thursday, the same day I had decided what food I was going to be cooking, only earlier. I was sitting at my desk, just after lunch, when a sparkle caught my eye. I glanced over to the corkboard where my 'drawing' of him was. On my desktop, a small crystal appeared, solidified, sparkled for a moment, and then popped. It left behind a fancy-looking piece of parchment with elegant script (it made me giggle to realize that Jareth himself had most likely written it! He wrote me a note! With his hands! Hee!) stating that my presence was requested in the Underground as soon as possible on Friday evening.

And… there was a rose. A sterling rose – the kind of purple-ish colored ones without thorns? I love those. And it was resting on the note when the crystal popped.

For whatever reason you could imagine, sterling roses reminded me of Jareth. I smiled like a dork the rest of the day.

As soon as work was finished the next day, I raced home and reheated the meat (part of me felt bad for using a microwave on the meat, even though it probably wouldn't hurt it, so I went a head and put in the oven on warm) and the other food I'd come up with. Then I went to change.

Staring at my closet was another thing all together. Was I freaking out over nothing? It was Jareth… but, it was also our first official date, you might say. I think Jareth's note put pressure on me… it was just so fancy. I knew this wasn't really a fancy thing, but I still wanted to look nice. With a sigh, I went for my favorite shirt and skirt combo: jade colored scoopneck crochet top (that was lined, of course), and my brown tiered skirt. To be comfortable, and also somewhat casual, I also went with my pale minty-jade Mary Jane flats. I just brushed my hair and made sure it wasn't ratty. It may be a mousy-brown, but it usually stays nice and almost-wavy.

Once I was dressed and had all that I needed loaded up (the food in a picnic basket), I counted the crystals on my ring and found myself in the Underground. Actually, in the throne room.

And, with a certain Goblin King, quite dashingly dressed, waiting for me.

He had on a rather shiny looking blue shirt (not one of his poet ones… this was more formal looking, but not his formal suit – though it did have just as many ruffles) with a black vest and pants. And boots and gloves (dang him! Will he never show me those hands?) as usual.

"My dear, you look lovely," he said with a flourish of his arm, which he extended to me. I took it and smiled at him.

"You don't look too bad, yourself."

He began to lead me down the hallway, slowly. "Are you planning to run away, Wren?" he asked with a grin.

I snorted, "Nah, this," I held up the picnic basket, "Is our dinner."

"I am afraid it doesn't look too appetizing…"

I elbowed him lightly and felt him laugh a little, "No, GK, this is the basket. The meal is inside… speaking of which, where are we eating?"

He smiled, "I thought we would spend tonight in a more informal atmosphere,"

"As opposed to our normally formal one? Ah, yes, you must be referring to the time I made a mud hole in your throne room…"

He smiled at me, but said nothing. We walked a ways farther down a few more hallways (I was enjoying the feeling of my arm in his too much to really care what was going on) before stopping in front of two double doors.

Uh… two doors I knew too well.

Jareth's chambers. I swallowed hard as he opened one door for me and led me inside. Yep, sure enough, there was his bed, and the rest of his room, which I had seen on a few occasions (the first of which had been a complete accident).

As soon as we were both inside, and he shut the door behind me, he took my hand, "Right this way, my dearling,"

Without my permission, my feet put on the brakes.

"I'm not comfortable," I blurted before I could think about it.

He stopped and turned to give me a questioning glance, "What is the matter, Wren?"

I swallowed, "I'm not comfortable eating here." Rebellion spreading from my feet up to my eyeballs, I found myself glancing at his bed without thinking about it.

This did not go beyond his notice.

I glued my eyes to my shoes, fighting a terrible blush.

"Hmm," he muttered, folding his arms and looking at his bed, and then at me, "I was concerned about this…"

I looked up, "About what?"

Without a word, he moved his way to the other side of his bed and to the window beyond it. There were two paned doors that led outside to what I had only ever guessed was a balcony. He opened the two doors and motioned to the outside, "We are eating out here, Wren, not in my bedchamber."

I felt myself go red from top to bottom. "Oh."

"Care to join me out here?"

"Yeah, okay…" I muttered, shuffling my flat shoes over the stone floor to the doors where he stood, waiting. I let him lead me out to a balcony that was much larger than expected… and it was facing South (or, what I guessed was south) so we were able to watch the slowly setting sun. Once on the balcony, which was fitted with a low table (and I mean low, as in only a bit off the ground) and…

"Beanbag chairs?" I asked, my eyes wide and a smile on my face.

I watched him turn his nose up in the air, "I like them,"

I went and flopped in one, sitting the basket between the two chairs, "Me, too. I just… well, I wasn't expecting them."

He seated himself beside me and looked at the basket. "Wren?"

"Yeah?"

"Before we eat… there's something I think we need to discuss…"

I looked at him and could tell we were both thinking the same thing. I had kinda freaked in the bedroom. We'd never discussed anything… like that.

But, instead of a serious conversation about standards and intimacy, Jareth smirked and got to his feet, to give me a speech. I think he was intimidated about the subject matter.

"Wren," he said, his hands behind his back and standing primly looking out over the Labyrinth and trees below. "I am fully aware of the present-day standards in the Aboveground, of what is expected in a courtship between a man and a woman. I am all too aware of this, as I am Fae, and most of my kind have even less standards than those of the Aboveground – extreme longevity tends to lead to promiscuity out of sheer boredom, I am afraid…"

I decided to humor him, and not interrupt his speech.

"But the fact remains that while I am Fae, I am also a monarch, a King, and therefore I have specific obligations and responsibilities. While it is common for those of the Fae race often engage in forms of intimacy, even expected, I long ago decided it was foolish for a ruler to do so out of the bonds of what you would call marriage, for obvious reasons…"

I noticed that his cheeks were slightly pink, and not from the late afternoon sun.

"I do not doubt that you perceive me as a great lover," (I snorted, but he didn't notice), "As a man who could have any woman he wanted… to a certain degree, I am what I appear to be. But, power struggles, usurpers, and the like are difficult enough to deal with, without a child in the middle of the struggle. And, of course, should marriage follow later with another partner, then there is always the worry about which child would have rightful claim to their titles, etc…"

That's where I decided to break in.

"So," I said, startling him from his speech (he quickly turned to face me), "You are basically restating what I told you once, way back in passing conversation, that I have high morals and standards, and am not likely to jump into bed with anyone unless I'm married to them?"

The look on his face clearly showed he'd forgotten that. I confess, that hadn't been the topic of conversation at the time, but I had still said it to him. He sighed, his ridged and royal appearance slipping away as his shoulders drooped and he dropped to his knees before me.

He cradled one of my hands in his own, and stared at it, intently. "What I was attempting to do, Wren, is to discover what it is you expect of me."

"What do you mean?"

He still didn't look up from my hand, "Despite my decisions in this matter…" his voice faded to a low whisper and I could clearly see the redness in his cheekbones (I smiled, it was so cute! So… real), "There are few things I could deny you, Wren…"

I stared at him, taken completely aback by his honesty to me. There was something so… quietly sad in his voice that caused a nearly overwhelming sensation of guilt at having assumed the worst of him when he led me through his chambers. Something about the look on his face… what would that be? Sadness, fear, desire? It flattered me and broke my heart all at the same time.

I withdrew my hand from his and tilted his chin upward so that his eyes met mine. I smiled at him, doing my best to reassure him. I used both my hands to brush back the hair that had fallen over his eyes and into his face, reveling in the feel of his skin on my palms, much as I had just before I kissed him the first time. How many times had I said to myself that I loved his face? The curves of my palms rested perfectly over his cheekbones, and I turned my fingers back to caress his ears – which, while not quite elf-like, were pointed, ever so slightly.

The moment I touched his face, his eyes fluttered closed and his knitted brows relaxed. My voice brought his eyes open again.

"I expect nothing more of you than your respect, Jareth. You are, first and foremost, my friend, and I expect nothing more than your respect. I would not demand more of you, ever. I care about you, you know that… and you know about my morals. Now, you know them officially. So… I'm sorry for acting like I did back there. I didn't mean to make it seem as though I was expecting… more. I'm not."

A slight look of wonder fell upon his face as he looked up at me. I couldn't help but smile wider. A gloved hand (I noticed for the first time that his gloves, in this instance, were not leather. I don't know for sure what they were, but they were thinner than leather, and… I could feel the warmth of his hands underneath!) cupped my cheek as his mismatched eyes bounced back and forth between my own.

"You truly are a wonder to me, Wren, did you know?" he asked softly, rhetorically, before giving me a gentle kiss on the cheek he wasn't touching – something that seemed almost more intimate than being on the lips, I confess. A final rebellion struck in my arms, and I hugged him around the neck tightly for a brief moment before letting go and sighing.

"Okay, so… dinner? Are you ready for it?"

His beautiful eyes widened, "Erm… yes?"

Jareth eating kabobs was an odd sight, I tell you.

He'd hold the skewer so primly and gently pull the pieces off with his teeth and eat them... it was very... well, funny, but odd. And his face when he first ate a piece of pineapple... gracious, why did I not bring a camera with me? It was priceless.

He'd quite enjoyed the burgers. At first, he'd claimed they were primitive (to be fair, he at least tried to be nice about them, saying they were 'sweetly primitive'), but after a bit, and a few bites, he began to make small, appreciative noises while he ate, and when it came down to it, he'd finished both his burgers before I'd finished my first.

Actually, I was more interested in the kabobs, and didn't want my second burger. "Would you like it?" I offered, extending the grilled meat in a bun to him.

He had just delicately finished one kabob, but I could see his eyes light up at the grilled beef. "Oh, no," he said, still looking at it, "I won't take it from you, Wren…"

I shook my head, "You're not… Besides, I don't think I'll be able to eat it, after these kabobs. Would you like it?"

"Well," he said, a slow grin coming across his face, "I would hate to see it waste…" he took it from me, happily, and bit into it. I fought the giggles, madly.

As I watched him, a question occurred to me. Picking up a kabob and picking a pepper from it to munch on, I asked, "How did you get to be the Goblin King?"

He paused and looked at me, one cheek bulging with what he'd just bitten off. "Hrm?" he asked, with his mouth full.

I snickered and rephrased, "I'm just curious. Did you inherit it, or did you earn it? And how long do you keep it?"

"Erm…" He swallowed and leaned back in his beanbag chair, almost lazily. "In general terms, I did inherit it from my father, but I rule by might,"

From the doors behind us (I had long since figured out that some goblins were interested in what their King was up to, and we were not completely alone, but I've also learned to ignore them, for the most part. They're goblins, after all, and prone to be nosy.) I heard a giggle. Jareth's eyes gleamed for a split second while flickering to the door, but he seemed to ignore it as well.

"The… the goblins know if they don't do what I say, I'll kick them out the window…" more giggles from behind us, "…or dip them in the bog…" flat out laughter, now, "or…"

I held up a hand, "Whoa, whoa, wait a second here, I gotta know," I turned and leaned over the back of the beanbag I was in, facing the window, "What's so funny?"

A small brown head peered out of the doorway, at me. It, along with the other giggles behind it, laughed and addressed Jareth, "Nu-uh! You're the king 'cause you won the dance contest!"

I snorted, half-way between laughing myself silly and disbelief, "The dance contest?" I looked at Jareth, who now was sitting rigidly in his chair.

He was silent for a moment, his cheeks were pinker than I had ever seen them and muttered, while taking an oversized bite of his burger, "Yes, well… goblins are notoriously bad dancers…"

I rolled onto my side to face him better, "So… is that how you inherited the throne? You're daddy taught you to dance, and once you could beat him, you became king?"

He leveled me with a glare, "Fae always find new ways to amuse themselves, Wren. The dance contest tradition may have spawned from an early form of amusement, but it is a tradition nonetheless, and is very important. I do not scoff at your traditions."

"Oh?"

"Not the important ones."

I leaned back in the chair, resuming my kabob, "Oh, I'm not scoffing at them. You are a good dancer, I will be the first to attest to that. But… let me just get this straight. Hypothetically, if I beat you at a dance contests, would I get to be king?"

He glared at me, and looked as though he was about to say something, when a giggly voice from behind me piped up, saying, "Yup! Them's the rules!"

I watched Jareth's glare move from me to the goblin behind me. I turned and watched the goblin quietly hid behind the door, only his eyes peeking out.

"No one," Jareth said to me, very seriously, "And I do mean no one, has ever out danced me, little Wren," he chewed daintily on another bite of his burger, "And no one ever will."

I raised an eyebrow at him, "Really? Is that so?"

"It's true," came the goblin behind us again, "Once, we tried to form a republic by all dancing against him at once, but he beat our conga-line with a simple two-step."

I nearly snorted the pineapple I was eating out my nose. Jareth, regally ignoring my undignified laughter, finished his burger and another kabob.

"Wren," Jareth mused while the sun at last dipped below the horizon, "I do not think I will allow you to cook for me again,"

I looked over at him, hurt, "What? Why?"

He wasn't looking at me, or the sun. Instead, he was looking at his shirt and the waistband on his pants. "Too much of this," he mused, good-naturedly, "And my pants will no longer fit me. How unbecoming a portly Goblin King would be…"

I giggled. "Oh, please, you only had one cookie. You'll be dancing off that dinner in no time, fancy pants."

The table between us vanished and suddenly his beanbag chair was right beside mine. I so love magic. I leaned over and snuggled against his chest. He nuzzled my hair.

"Cookies are so underrated…" he breathed.

"I knew you'd like them,"

He nodded, "Quite tasty, I confess. What flavor were they again?"

I smiled against the ruffles on his shirt, "Sugar."

"Hm,"

"Next time," I said, reaching up and kissing his cheek, "I'll introduce you to chocolate chips."

"Ooh, I like the sound of those..."

A/N: Have no fear, everyone, Wren will not continuously feed the GK cookies. Hee! Even if she did, I am sure he'd dance them off, as she assumed.

Also, a HUGE thank you, once again, to Danika for proofreading and brainstorming with me. The 'dance contest' stuff spurred completely from her brain, when mine was feeling extremely dead. Heck, these chapters wouldn't come out nearly as fast without her constantly feeding my Jareth/Bowie obsession. THANK YOU!

Well, as usual, please read and review. It's much appreciated.

Marti