Disclaimer: I am the supreme monarch of the world… just, no one realizes it. Duh! I own only Wren. Steal her, or my plots, and you are giving me permission to hurt you. I also do not own 'On the Border', though I love their food, and eat there often, or David Bowie, though I adore him completely. CHICKENS! (oops, private joke there…)

Notwritten: Wow, that's like a review haiku… very deep!

DanikaLareyna: I have no patience, I want it NOW! That was so cool, hearing first hand how funny my stuff was. I'm so lucky to have such friends… with cell phones… and Verizon…

MelodyWolfhart: Randomness rules – for the most part. I can't say all the time, because then it wouldn't be random, would it? David used to scare me, too… and then I became a fan. Such a thin line between fear and fandom…

Mrs. Camui: Everyone has something they fear - why should Jareth be excluded? Seriously! And... oh, why not cockroaches? hee! I can feel a recurring (sp?) joke coming on, here...

Adelaide Holmes: Oh, fear not, dear reviewer, I WILL continue on… I most definitely shall…

Laochra: You know, I like to excuse Jareth OOCness with the idea that people generally have the wrong ideas about him... or, at least, not all the correct information. Everyone has something to fear, why should a king be exempt?

Yami Moon: Yes, yes he is. I have no idea why, though... Oh, I can't let him get started on the dough! His shirts wouldn't fit him, after enough of that!

Anij: Hee! Oh, I'm thrilled you liked it! Everyone is seeing the side of Jareth that they just didn't portray in the film, I suppose... He's very faceted, you know. The question is, what can I come up with... and the answer is quite a bit. Hee.

Music choices:

I just Wanna Be Mad for Awhile by Terri Clark – hee. This always makes me smile.

Um, sorry the music is a little sparse this chapter. Too much plot, you see, has caused me to… well, take for ages to get this out, and therefore forget what all I listened to while writing it. Oops. Better next time, I swear.

Ever had a panic attack? They aren't fun, I promise you. Really, I'm not all that a panicky person… fine, check that. I wasn't one, until I met Jareth, and then… well, there was a lot more in my life, including fair doses of panic.

But, really, isn't that expected for any young girl who's living at home and dating a monarch of a country that, according to reality, doesn't exist? I'm sure if there are any other mortal girls in my situation (and… okay, I kinda hope there aren't…) we could form a support group or something. I'm sure they would understand what I am talking about.

Now, I've had my fair share of panic where Jareth is concerned, but… um, how do I explain this? For once, this panic that does concern him wasn't actually caused by him. I was caused by a phone call from my brother, Lachlan.

Yeah, wanna guess what he called for? Go on, take a WILD guess. I dare you.

My cell phone rang late in the afternoon, just as I was leaving work on a Thursday evening. As you all know, I am the last one to leave the office so I was basically alone. I waved to the guards when my cell started chirping a cheery version of "Rebel Rebel" on my hip and I answered it as I left the building.

"Hello?" I asked. I hadn't bothered to look at the caller ID on my cell.

I smiled when Lachlan's cheerful voice met my ears. "Hey, sis, how's it going?" he asked.

"Hey, Lach," I smiled, digging through my pockets for the car keys. "Things are good. How are you doing?"

"Um…" he hesitated. That was not a good sign. Lachlan rarely hesitates. When he does hesitate, it's for a somewhat sneaky reason – he is, after all, Orla's brother, too. "Actually," he said, "I've got a favor to ask of you."

I paused in my search for the keys. "What kind of favor?" I asked, more than a little worried.

"Okay," he started, "Here's the deal. One of my studio buddies called in a favor with me, and, really, long story short, I've got a blind date with a friend of a friend, Saturday evening."

I frowned. I didn't like where this was going. "What does that have to do with me? I wasn't included on the deal you made. That's your date, dear brother."

His voice went whiny and pleading, "Wren, please! You don't understand. I'm not good on blind dates! When anyone tells people I'm an artist they… ah, well, I don't know what they expect of me. I think they expect me to wear loads of black, have spiky hair, and lots of eye makeup!"

I snorted. "Oh, they do, do they?"

"Yes!" he whinned, "They do, Wren! Look, I… ah, you know I wouldn't ask you, if I wasn't desperate. And…"

"And what?"

"And," I could practically hear him swallow on the other side of the phone, "I have been looking forward to meeting that guy your seeing."

Cue panic attack.

"Uh, no, I don't think so, Lachlan. That's NOT happening." I said, very quickly.

"Ah, Wren, c'mon!" I heard him sigh, "Look, I know that you really like the guy you are seeing, so setting you up with someone else isn't an option, but you can't come alone!"

"Who says I'll go at all?" I demanded, shouting at my own reflection in my car window.

The phone was silent for a long while. I had to check to make sure my time was still running. Finally, he spoke up in a pitiful voice. "Look Wren, the thing is, I really need someone to come with me. If I don't get you to come, Orla has already offered and, as you might guess, I don't want her there any more than you want her to stick her nose in your dating, either. The only way I could get her off the scent was to tell her that I already asked you! Please, Wren? Please don't make me take Orla!"

Oh, would play dirty, wouldn't he?

"Gosh! Fine, I'll do it – but I have two conditions."

"Oh, man, thank you, thank you! Name them, anything!"

I sighed, "First off," I pointed a finger at my own reflection, "I am swearing you to secrecy about who I'm dating. You got that? I mean it! No one is told. Not Mom, Dad, and especially not Orla."

"Deal, deal, I swear I won't say a word! What else?"

"Um… secondly, you aren't allowed to tell anyone we know where it is we'll be going to."

"Why?"

I snorted, "What do you think? You've told Orla that I'll be going with you! She will know that means I'll be bringing a date, and I would bet you money that she'll just happen to run into us there, just to get a glimpse of him. So, no chatting around about locations, with the exception of myself and the girl you're going with, deal?"

"Ah, I see you're point. Yes, I'll agree to your terms, dear sister. I'll stay silent, I swear!"

I groaned into the phone, "Urrrgh, you better be…"

Oh, the way home, I was near frantic. And, for what it's worth, that's not the best way to drive… especially during rush hour traffic.

But, I couldn't help it. You see, I kept going over the various scenarios of what would happen on when my brother is introduced to the Goblin King – and that's assuming that Jareth would even consent to go at all. None of the scenarios were good, mainly because I could never, in my mind, get past the introductions.

I could see it all…

First scenario: Lachlan would stand up, extending a hand, and saying, "Hello, nice to meet you…" and then I would quickly jump in to introduce him. "Um, Lachlan, this is Jareth the Goblin… Gaublayne… Jareth Gaublayne…" Then Jareth would look at me with a stunned face, saying "That is the best you can do?"

Second scenario: Lachlan would stand up, extending a hand, and saying, "Hello, nice to meet you…" and then I would quickly jump in to introduce him, just as I did in the first scenario. "Um, Lachlan, this is Jareth… King…" oh, no, that is too fan-fiction-ish, and no one would accept that. Better think quick, Wren… "Um… sley… ton. Jareth Kingsleyton, yes. A bit of a mouthful there, isn't it?" And, then, in my head, Lachlan would look at me and say, "That is the best you can do?"

Third scenario: Lachlan, like the other two, would stand up and say, "Hello, nice to meet you…" and I would jump in to introduce him, just as I would always do. "Um, Lachlan, this is Jareth…" and then, knowing me, I would look frantically around the restaurant and try and find something random, and probably spot the dessert cart first, "…Mousse. Jareth Mousse… yes, he's European…" And, then, in my head, Lachlan's date looks at me and says, "Oh, please, not even I'm buying that one…"

By the time I got home, I had actually come up with fourth scenario, too. In this one, it starts as all the others do, but this time, I can't even think of a name at all. "This is Jareth… uh, Jareth…" and, of all things, the Jareth in my head, who is very sick and tired of all my scenarios, decides to take things into his own hands. "Jareth Jimbob," he says, with a mighty flourish and a charming smile, "At your service." At which point, the waiter walks by and laughs, "Oh, yes, that's believable."

So you can see why I was in quite the mood when I got home. Of all days, both my parents were home, and were in the mood for family time. I walked into them doing some kind of jigsaw puzzle they'd purchased as a souvenir on their last trip out of town. My dad smiled at me, "Ah, Wren! Great, you're just in time! Want to help us?"

I gritted my teeth, "No, not really."

My mom looked worried, "Wren, honey, what's wrong?"

I tried to smile. I don't think I succeeded. "Lachlan suckered me into going on a double date with him, this Saturday night! I'm not that happy about it!"

"Aw," my mom said, trying to kind, "Don't worry honey, you're really nice, I'm sure you'll find someone to go with you."

I think my eye twitched, "Sure, Mom, whatever you say… I'm going to my room…"

Once in my room, I dropped my stuff, locked my door – so neither of my parents would come in and find me gone, and subsequently freak out – counted my ring, and went to find Jareth.

Luckily, upon arriving in the Underground, I recognized where I was, in the corridor near the Throne room. I could tell he was in there. I think part of me should be disturbed by the fact that my Jareth-sense was becoming more precise, but… yeah, not something I wanted to think about at the moment.

I entered the room to find Jareth sitting with a small table in front of him. I blinked twice, because it was an odd sight. On the other side of the table was a stool of equal height, on which stood a very small… what would you call it? A Brownie? A small Imp thing? Something like that. On the table between them was a checkerboard. I watched as Jareth, the black checkers, jumped three red checkers – cheating, most likely. The Brownie raised a fist and squeaked at him furiously.

Jareth shrugged at him, "That is how the game is played, is it not?"

The Brownie huffed and stomped his way across the board, retrieving a red checker, and hopping in a very complicated manner, jumped at least five black checkers. I snickered as Jareth's face fell. I distinctly heard a tiny, triumphant voice holler at him, saying, "King me!"

Jareth frowned and glared at the Brownie, "Do you not have bricks to clean, somewhere?" The Brownie quickly hopped off the table and went skittering out of the room. I was still laughing when Jareth turned to face me.

"You cheated," I said, pointedly, taking the now empty stool.

He raised his nose in the air, "He cheated first, I was merely compensating." With a wave of his hand, the table and checkerboard vanished. He smiled at me, leaning back in his seat, "But, enough politics. What is bothering you, my dearling?"

I decided not to question how it was that politics with Brownies included checkers, and sighed, "I didn't say anything was wrong."

He raised an eyebrow at me, "You did not need to. I can see it, on your face. Now, tell, me, what has upset you?"

I sighed, and explained the situation. Jareth, though, did not seem quite as upset as I did, when I finished telling him all about the double date. In fact, he seemed excited.

"Ah, sounds delightful, Wren!" he said, clapping his hands, "I have been looking forward to meeting your family."

I blinked at him, "You… have been? Really?"

He touched a hand to his chin, "Well, erm, some of them…" he looked about, almost worriedly, "Your brother, Lachlan, are you fond of him?"

"Yes, I am," I said, and then grinned, "He's the one who helped me grill the burgers, remember?"

"Oh," his face broke out in a smile, "Wonderful!"

"No, not wonderful!" I said, feeling the panic attack again, "I mean, sure, better Lachlan than Orla, but a blind double-date? Not good, Jareth! Not good at all!"

Jareth's smile faded quickly, and I watched his eyes bore into me. I swallowed. It wasn't often that I felt the full effect of Jareth's title, but… as I stood there, I couldn't help but feel like I was standing in front of the Goblin King, not Jareth, my boyfriend. He was scrutinizing me, I could tell. After a long moment, he cleared his throat.

"Are you ashamed to bring me?" he asked, stoically.

Ouch, that stung! "No! Never!" I looked into his eyes, catching a slightly hurt look. Just a slight one. I put my hands on his shoulders and seated myself sideways on his lap then squeezed his neck tightly. "I'm not, Jareth, I swear… but, really, while I wouldn't trade you for the world, I'm not sure as how to introduce you! This… uh, this is going to be a disaster!"

He pulled away and looked at me quizzically. "Usually, I am announced as His Royal Highness, Lord of the Labyrinth, Master of Magic, Jareth the Magnificent. Is there a problem with that?"

I frowned, giving him a dirty look. "Announced? Where do you think we'd be going, anyway? Gosh, and besides, I don't think Lachlan will accept that."

He shrugged, disappointed, "Yes, well…"

I eyed him, and grinned, "… the Magnificent?"

He gave me his famous smirk, "Well, I added that part myself."

I snorted, "Could have fooled me." I kissed him lightly – partly hoping it would alleviate my panic that wasn't going away. It didn't really, but… it was still nice. He pulled away, having an idea.

"Mfalme," he said.

"God bless you,"

"No," he shook his head, "You may introduce me as Jareth Mfalme."

What the heck? Was he just, I don't know, making up words? "Mfalme?"

Lucky me, he totally understood the look on my face, "Yes," he explained, "It means 'King'.

I released his neck and folded my arms, dubious. "In what language? Goblin?"

He scoffed and looked hurt, "No, in Swahili. Oh, will you stop laughing!"

I think he caught me from falling off his lap – something in that just struck me as incredibly funny! I mean, Swahili? C'mon, people. Lachlan was an artist, not stupid. And, part of me could see Jareth standing in the middle of an African jungle, complaining about the humidity ruining his hair… in Swahili.

"Okay, okay," I breathed regaining control, "Not to be a kill joy, but I don't think Lachlan will accept that, either."

"And why not? It is perfectly regal."

"…and yet, something says it will draw attention to the fact that are not African, and cause more ruckus than it's worth. How about a more believable heritage? Like… mmm," I stared at his complexion. "Well, you're pasty enough to be Irish, but your accent screams British. Lets go for an Anglo-Saxon name, if possible."

Jareth puffed out his chest, seeming to be quite offended, "Excuse me?" he said, haughtily, "I am NOT pasty! My tan has been coming along rather nicely…"

Okay, Wren, just pick your battles. That one was too easy to get into a laughing fit over. Better to focus on names, while you have his attention. "Um, whatever… back to names? Do you have any British or English ones?"

He gave me a withering look before pursing his lips in thought. I watched him tap his fingers on the arm of his throne, very slowly. "What of Kendricks?"

Interesting… Jareth Kendricks? Believable. "Not bad. What does it mean?"

He sat up straight and puffed out his chest, regally (Man, I felt like I was dating a peacock or something), "Derived from the Aboveground Old English name, Cyneric, it is believed to mean, 'royal power'. I have always been fond of it."

I nodded, feeling a little relief ease into my chest, "Good. Jareth Kendricks it is. Now, we just need to discuss what to wear…"

He wrapped an arm around me, stood, and sat me on my feet, "Ah, excellent. I am glad you brought up the subject."

I frowned. I mean, I figured he'd not want me telling him what to wear… not that I don't love the things he does wear (those poet shirts really do flatter him, in my opinion… which probably isn't worth much, being as how it's a highly biased one), but you know, he can't exactly go around that way in the Aboveground without drawing some attention. "Um, you are?"

"Yes," he said hurriedly, looking at me, up and down, "Now, bear in mind, this only a test, but after that wretched fan fiction you made me read some time back, I have been curious as to how that custom dress would look on you…"

My eyes went huge, "What the heck are you talking-" he seemed to snap his fingers, and there was a poof, "-about… oh dear."

I was in, or at least appeared to be in, a frilly ball gown… oh, help me. It was frightening. It shimmered, rustled, sparkled… oh, there were ruffles everywhere. And it was just… pink and shiny… and mortifying… like Cinderella's dress but made by fluffy bunnies who only eat cotton candy and live in the land of sugar and fluff. No, no… it looked like I walked out of a Candy-land game.

Some forms of mortification cannot be hidden, no matter how much you like the person. Jareth caught my face instantly and smiled devilishly, "Oh, Wren, it is SO you!"

I hung my head, "Oh boy…"

I spent most of that night and the next day (any chance I could slip away from my desk for a few moments) arguing with Jareth about what to do, say, wear, etc. See, I didn't take him for a fool – as he kept saying I was – but there were somethings that… well, for example, he totally had to be careful of… well, demanding things. I reminded him that while with me, he couldn't me the Goblin King, he had to be Jareth Kendricks.

Jareth seemed alright with that, but… I was just worried that he'd demand something of a waiter or something to that extent. I just had this horrid feeling that he'd do something that an average Jo wouldn't do. I was amazed he still agreed to go with me.

Lachlan called me to tell me that we'd be eating at Nokomis' (that was the girl's name, by the way) favorite place, On the Border – one of our local Mexican food restaurants. I like On the Border, very much, but… Jareth hadn't ever eaten Mexican food that I knew of. My worry increased at the thought of what the spicy food would do to him. Well, I suppose that's a bridge to cross when we get there, right?

All too soon, Saturday evening was upon us, and Jareth (secured in the passenger's seat of my car, after only a brief struggle with the seatbelt) and I were outside the restaurant.

Seeing the brightly colored exterior and fluorescent colored lights seemed to delight Jareth. "This place looks… fascinating."

I gripped the steering wheel, "It's Mexican food. Um… be careful on what you order, okay? This is the Southwest… we like spices."

He waved a hand at me, "Oh, tosh, Wren. If you can handle it passably, then I can as well. Are you not you the least bit happy that I agreed to wear these clothes? I thought you were."

"I am," I glanced him over. I wasn't going to tell him, but the slate gray carpenter jeans and deep, wine colored button-up shirt I'd convinced him to conjure up to wear suited him very nicely… even if they were rather tight on him. Thinking on what he could have worn instead…

You see, in our discussions, he'd tried to be nice to me (which I appreciated, really). For whatever reason you can imagine, he thought it would be a nice gesture on his part to model his outfit after my favorite celebrity, David Bowie (or, as he'd said at the time, Donald Booty).

This episode included him going through a variety of outfits that increasingly made me wish I could use my camera on him. The first attempt was laughably unacceptable, as he'd decided to try 'the Man Dress', that Bowie wore on the cover of his album, 'The Man Who Sold the World'. Now, the dress was bad enough, but he'd also adjusted his hairstyle to match. It tumbled in messy waves about his shoulders. I instantly said, "No!"

Well, this went on for a while, during which we went through several different Bowie-eras. A banana-yellow suite with color-matching hair, a pirate with an eye patch and a red mullet, a clown, a leopard-print jumpsuit with a pale trench coat (yes, much like the one he painted my room in)… Then there was one very tempting version of Screaming Lord Byron and an even more tempting version of the Thin White Duke, orange hair included, and I had to stop him, flat out. I would die of hilarity if he got to Ziggy Stardust… I finally begged him to give up on trying to look like Bowie any more than he already did, and we flipped through the men's section of a catalogue I had, to pick something out. Not that we didn't argue over all of it, but still…

In the end, we were both satisfied with what he had on. Dang, though, it looked better on him than I thought it would… much better than the dumb catalogue model.

Oh, and his hair. That had been our biggest issues, next to all the clothes. I'd finally managed to let him have me pull it back with a hair band at the nape of his neck, smoothing down as many of his wild strays as I could. That, believe it or not, was a compromise.

But, all in all, he looked very nice. I grinned. "Okay, let's see if Lachlan's here yet."

Speak of the gooney, as soon as we'd gotten out of the car, I heard my voice being called.

"Wren! Wren!" I turned to see my brother running up – he'd been waiting by the door for me. "Oh, fabulous, you made it!"

I hugged him, if stiffly. I was still slightly peeved for him getting me roped into this. But… what can I say? He's my cool brother. I can't stay mad at him for long. He looked nice, too, I noted absently. He'd pulled his shoulder length hair back, too, and was wearing a royal blue button up shirt and black slacks. I motioned to his clothes, "Very classy, Lach. You look all spiffy!"

He smiled, nervously, "Thanks, sis. You're not too shabby yourself," (I, for the record, was wearing a three-quarter sleeve, flower-patterned shirt and my best jeans, with my hair wavy). "Hey where's your mystery man?"

I grinned, just as nervously, "Um, behind you… Jareth?"

Jareth came over around to where we stood, and smiled, "Yes, Wren?"

It was suddenly very hard to breathe. Here went nothing… "Jareth, this is my brother, Lachlan. Lachlan, this is my mystery man, Jareth Kendricks."

Jareth grinned and held a hand out to my brother, "A pleasure to meet you."

Lachlan's eyes went wide and it was a minute before he was able to shake Jareth's hand, and even that seemed reluctant. I could nearly see the conflicting emotions on Lach's face. He didn't want to offend me, but he also couldn't believe the man I was dating. It was hard to say whether or not he approved. Lachlan was polite, and not prone to make a scene, after all.

"What?" I said when he looked at me, after releasing Jareth's hand, "Who'd you think I'd be dating? A librarian, or something?"

Lachlan shook his head, "No, of course not…" Uh-huh, yeah. I apparently radiate the nerdy vibes when it came to my choices in men. I was going to strangle my brother, later, in private. "It's nice to meet you, Mr. Kendricks," I noticed Lachlan inhale slowly and… I watched, in mild frustration, as he brushed his hand on his slacks, as if he'd get cooties from Jareth. I frowned at him. He saw this and instantly tried to change the subject. "I think Nokomis is already here, so lets go in and find my date."

Lachlan led the way into the restaurant, quickly explaining that his buddy who'd set them up had showed him a picture of Nokomis, and so he just had to look for her. Jareth surprised me my offering me his arm as we followed Lachlan. I took it, my heart fluttering as I did so, and some of my tension easing at his touch.

The hostess dropped her clipboard when she saw Jareth. I snickered, Jareth just grinned. But… yeah, I tell you, I got a lot of very angry glares from the women dining there. Oh, you couldn't not notice Jareth, he was just so tall, but the women, once they saw him, would then look at me and frown, glare, scoff, or some combination of those. Oddly enough, I didn't feel bad from it, though. After all, he was mine. They could scoff all they wanted to. He was mine! Ahahaha!

We found Nokomis, quickly enough. She was really cute, I noticed right away, and… funnily enough, she reminded me of Lachlan, somehow. She had chin length brown hair that was very curly and pretty, and green eyes, and wore a black shirt/skirt combo.

I was pleased to see she recognized Lachlan right away – that was good. And she smiled – that was better. Then, Lachlan turned to Jareth and I and began to introduce us.

"This is my youngest sister, Wren," he began, "And this-"

When her eyes fell on Jareth, her mouth fell open and she went kinda pale. "Holy cow," she said, "It's David Bowie… no, can't be…"

I laughed, but not at Nokomis. No, I caught Jareth's face – ah, priceless. He'd turned to me, looking rather helpless, and it made me laugh out loud, just a little.

Lachlan tried to say something, but then he looked at Jareth, too, and seemed to be pondering the resemblance, as well. This look on my brother's face soon turned to annoyance – or at least that stony-face he uses to hide his annoyance when he's in public. Like I said before, he is polite… Wren to the rescue. I turned my laugh into a cough.

"He gets that all the time," I said to Nokomis, pleasantly, "But, no, this is Jareth Kendricks, my boyfriend." Dude, was it just me, or was I acting slightly possessive of him? Or… more than slightly?

The girl shook her head and whistled softly, "Man, I don't know what you do for a living, but you should think of going into being an impersonator. You're real good… well," she eyed him up and down, an action that brought a red hue to Lachlan's face (crap crap crap), "Perhaps you're a bit too tall, and slightly beefier, but… all the same… Oh, I'm sorry, where are my manners, everyone sit, please. Let's order," she motioned for the waitress as we sat down.

We sat at a square table. Nokomis and I were facing each other, as were Lach and Jareth. I motioned for Jareth to scoot his chair closer to mine, just a bit, and I slid over a few more inches towards him – this, thankfully, lessened the hue of red in Lachlan's face.

I was about to lean over to Jareth and whisper to him to try and follow my lead in what to order, but a waitress had already dashed to the table (I noticed several of them were huddled around a pillar near the kitchens, watching our table in fascination – gee, wonder why.) blushing furiously.

"I'm sorry for the wait," she said, breathily, looking pointedly at my boyfriend, "Um, can I get you all anything to drink?"

Nokomis ordered a diet soda, and Lachlan ordered a Guinness and a glass of water. My head snapped over to look at him, in shock. It took all I had not to gasp.

Um, I didn't know he drank… no one in my family did. I sure as heck didn't (energy drinks were as strong as I got!). And, besides that, I wasn't accustomed to being around alcohol, if that makes sense. Something about it makes me uneasy…I figured, as he'd ordered some water, too, that the drink was to calm his nerves, but still… I don't know. There was something about finding out someone does something you never thought he'd do that kinda feels like a slap in the face. Lachlan gave me a quiet, apologetic smile. I was willing not to bring it up now, out of respect, but I felt very uneasy.

Not to mention that I had no idea what Jareth would order. I knew Jareth enjoyed wine, from time to time, but that was rare, really. I'd not introduced him to soda, yet. The waitress turned to me. "And what would you like?"

While soda would probably settle my now upset stomach, bubbles didn't sound appealing at the moment. "Um, strawberry lemonade, please." I said with a fake smile.

Jareth was eyeing me, and I knew full well that he'd caught my discomfort.

Dumb waitress. She decided to flirt with him. "Now, last but not least," she said, "What can I get you, sir? Did you get a chance to look at the wine list?"

Hmm, I suppose he just had that 'wine' aura about him, as much as I had 'nerdy-boyfriend' aura. Tell me, why do people assume anything? Ever?

"Oh, no thank you," he said with a small, cool smile, before turning a very warm smile to me, and placing his hand over mine on the table, "I shall have what Wren is having, if you would be as kind, miss."

The waitress looked stunned, "Um, alright. Two strawberry lemonades it is, then…"

We spoke for a little while, mostly small talk, and we finally ordered our food.

"Wren," Jareth whispered to me as we all perused the menus, "What would you recommend? I am afraid I am not familiar with these items… what is an empanayda?"

"Empanada," I corrected, gently, "It's one of those things," I pointed to a picture, "They're filled with either chicken or beef. Very good, actually."

"Hmm," he seemed to consider it. "What are you planning on requesting for dinner?"

"Me? I dunno…" I looked over the menu. It had been a very long time since I'd eaten there. "I was thinking about getting the chicken enchiladas, with sour cream sauce. For you…" I thought hard, trying to find something he'd like that wasn't too spicy. "I'd recommend the big Bordurrito. It's a big burro with either chicken or beef, and it's really good."

He looked skeptical, "Bordurrito? Are you sure?"

I smiled and patted his hand, "Yes. It's good, trust me."

After the waitress took our orders (Lachlan having ordered some grilled meat thingy, and Nokomis chose the Fiesta salad), we were brought a bowl of chips and salsa with our drinks. Mmm, I love salsa, I really do. I went ahead and dipped a chip in the salsa and munched on it, happily.

Nokomis, who had been in conversation with Lachlan, suddenly turned to Jareth. "So, Jareth, what do you do?"

I nearly choked on salsa. I didn't even think of his occupations! Lachlan patted me on the back while I coughed. I brushed his hand away – I was upset with my brother at the moment, even if I smiled at him, and really didn't want him to touch me. Jareth cleared his throat.

"Well," he said, "I often take small posts of employment for security on the sixth day of the week to…" he smiled, "supplement my regular occupation. That is how I met Wren, incidentally."

"Fascinating," she said, giving me a slightly envious look.

Lachlan eyed him, almost suspiciously, "Security, huh? What do you do the rest of the week?"

He smiled at Lachlan coolly, as if meeting a challenge. "I have a management position with a service that is mainly concerned with relocating unwanted children."

Oh, he was slick. I tried hard not to giggle.

"Ooh," this really caught Nokomis eye, "Like Child Protective Services? That's got to be rough, to take kids away…"

Lachlan didn't hear her, "If you're in management, why do you need a supplemental income?" he asked. Now he was blatantly digging for flaws. I was SO going to murder him. He thought what I almost did to Orla was bad – just wait until I didn't have any witnesses.

Jareth sighed, answering Nokomis, "Oh, yes, it is difficult at times. Fortunately for me, this service is not a constant thing, but that fact, Lachlan," he said, with a smile, turning to my brother, "Is the reason for supplementation."

Nokomis seemed to like that answer, and then started to change subjects, discussing Lachlan's job with him. Unfortunately, Lachlan kept shooting looks at Jareth that weren't too nice… I think he was peeved that Nokomis asked Jareth about his work before she asked Lachlan about his. I wanted to kick him under the table, or something, but instead, I took the moment to watch Jareth's gloved fingers (um, yes, he was still wearing his blasted gloves! Aaargh!) toy with a chip as he eyed the salsa.

He curiously took the triangular chip and dipped the tiniest of corners in the salsa, cautiously bringing it to his lips, and holding it there, briefly. He seemed to be sniffing it. I tried not to laugh. After a moment, he cautiously bit off the dipped corner and chewed carefully. At first, he seemed pleased with it, but after a moment one of his eyes twitched and he placed the remainder of the chip on his napkin, and didn't touch it again. He still seemed, I don't know, fine? Okay… perhaps the salsa was too hot, I don't know. Whatever the reason, I distinctly got the impression that he didn't like chips as much as he liked cookies.

At last our food came. Jareth was highly impressed with his burro and began to cut into it – very properly – with his knife and fork.

After a bit more small talk, Nokomis looked across the table at me, "So, Wren, do you and Jareth really get a lot of people who say he looks like Bowie?"

Jareth coughed on his bite – however small it was. I smiled at her, "Well, not too often, but I do from time to time. My coworkers all think he does, that's for sure."

Jareth rolled his eyes, "I think they are all rather silly for thinking so," Nokomis raised an eyebrow, and he explained, "I do not quite see the resemblance."

Both Nokomis and I laughed. Jareth rolled his eyes again.

I gave him a mocking glare, "And I do not see how you cannot see it! I mean, I am one of the biggest Bowie fans there is, but even if I wasn't, I could still see it."

Nokomis shook her head, "I can beat you on being a Bowie fan. I can see the slight differences, yes, but, yeah, he's still really good."

Lachlan rolled his eyes, "I see it," he said, "But I don't think it's that big of a deal."

"Yes, exactly," Jareth said, slapping his gloved hand lightly on the table, "Thank you, Lachlan. Finally, someone who sees it as I do."

I didn't bother with either of their comments, but frowned at Nokomis, "What do you mean, you can beat me on the being a Bowie fan?" She didn't even know me. What gave her the authority to say she could beat me? How did she know I wasn't a member of his official fan club? What if I had Ziggy posters all over my room? She didn't know at all.

She smiled, "Oh, I didn't mean that to be rude or whatnot, I was just… well, I mean, I am a huge fan, that's all."

"And what makes you think I'm not?"

I saw a challenge in her eyes. She held up her hand, showing me a charm bracelet she was wearing. "Look," she said, just a bit on the smug side, "Check out the faces."

It was a pretty bracelet, for sure… but under close inspection, several of the charm pieces had faces on them – all David Bowie. I shrugged. "I have a watch with him on it."

"Can I see it?"

I blinked, "I don't have it with me…"

Jareth looked at me, "You have a time piece with him on it?"

Oops. I hadn't meant to tell him that… "I don't wear it much, only now and then," I said, sounding pathetic. Okay, I wasn't hiding it from him. I swear. I had it before I'd even met Jareth and I'd even worn in around him a few times, but… it was weird, to wear it around him, and then when I realized he had issues with Bowie, I nearly stopped altogether.

Lachlan sipped at his drink, "I can't believe either of you. Jewelry? Watches?"

"He's cool!" we both said, in unison. Then we both busted up laughing. Across the table from each other, Lachlan and Jareth both looked at each other and shook their heads.

Somehow, the night went along rather well, without any major incidents. Jareth pulled some major faces with his lemonade, and couldn't quite finish his burro (we boxed it for home) but Nokomis seemed to be nicely interested in Lachlan, and I thought they'd had a decent night. Nokomis, at least, seemed to enjoy herself.

Me? Well, it wasn't too bad. But, bad or not, I had some major issues to pick at with my brother. First off, however civil he was with Jareth, and eventually nice, he hadn't been as accepting as I would have liked, at first. Then the drink, then the interrogation at dinner… that wasn't much like the Lachlan I knew, and I was slightly hurt.

Lachlan walked Nokomis to her car when we'd finished, and then, after she'd left, found me waiting for him at his Honda. Jareth was leaning against my car, some ways off.

He came up and patted my shoulder, "Ah, Wren, tonight was great. I can't thank you enough!" then his smile faded and he noticed my unhappy expression, "What's wrong?"

I sighed, "Where do I start, Lachlan?"

"What do you mean?"

"You were a jerk to me, you know that?" he tried to protest, but I stopped him, "No, you don't speak. You were rude to Jareth, several times over, even to the point of interrogating him, and since when do you drink?" I put my hands on my non-existent hips and looked at him directly.

He sighed, "The Guinness… Wren…"

I held up a hand to stop him again, "Look, I don't care that you do, really. That's your choice – not a smart one, if you ask me, but it's yours all the same. I'm upset that you just chose to do so in front of me, when you know I'm not comfortable with it. And the way you treated Jareth… argh!" I clenched my fists in frustration. "It's like you were afraid to get cooties from him, when you shook his hand!"

He got defensive, "Okay, that? Gosh, Wren, you can't blame me! He looks like a flippin' male escort, for heaven's sake! I was concerned that he was-"

A what? Oh, no, he did not just say that about him. "First of all, I wouldn't date one, you know that. Secondly, if he was, that would be my choice, wouldn't it? I don't care what he is, escort, security guard, or friggin' King of the Goblins, I expect my brother, who I am doing a favor for, to be a heck of a lot nicer to the person I've chosen, got it? You may have had a nice night, dear brother, but I was rather miserable for a good portion of the evening, and that was thanks to you. No," I stalled his attempts to explain some more, "I've had enough of you for one night. Don't talk to me for a few days. Good night." And I stormed back to my car.

Without a word, Jareth gave me a quiet hug when I reached the car, instantly cooling my temper. I hugged him back, gratefully, and then unlocked his door before heading around to mine and getting in.

I smiled at him, once we were in the car, "So, how did you like Mexican food?"

He thought on it for a bit, "The food was acceptable," he said, lightly, "But I am afraid I am not fond of the sensations most of it caused."

Uh, what? I looked at him sideways, "What do you mean, sensations?"

"Frankly, that red colored substance – what did the server refer to it as? Oh, yes, salsa," he shuddered, "Caused a rather unpleasant burning sensation, and the burro-whatever it was somewhat similar."

I laughed, "Gosh, Jareth, I'm sorry! I forgot it was spicy! I'm used to it – I love salsa, you see. And… well, I grew up eating spicy stuff. But, thank you for coming with me," I reached a hand over and touched his glove, "I appreciate it, and your support."

The glove turned and captured my fingers, squeezing them gently, "My pleasure, Wren," he briefly brought my fingers to his mouth and kissed them, then let go and frowned, "What sensations did you think I was referring to? You seemed… concerned."

I went red and began to back out of the parking space, "Oh, that… well…" I gave a nervous laugh, "I thought you were talking about gas…"

"WREN!"

Hee.

A/N: Dude, did this take me long enough? I am so sorry this took so long… blame the plot bunnies. EVIL PLOT BUNNIES! Seriously, they are out to get me. Hope this wasn't too bad… next chapter should be less serious and more fun. I think.

And always, review. All your lovely feedback keeps me going, you know.