Only You (Have the Power to Move Me)

Jareth glowered in the shadows of the studio soundstage. It was ridiculous for him to be here. Again. Yet here he was, slinking amongst the shadows and peeking around corners in order to get a glimpse of the newest cast addition to this so-called captivating urban drama. Sarah. Damn her.

Why did he keep coming here? He'd eavesdropped on rehearsals and practically knew her part by heart; surely he should be bored to tears by now. It wasn't as if he had nothing else to do. There was the blasted Council in two days time that was looming over his head, the Goblin Influenza epidemic was growing worse, not to mention the little matter of the Bog leak. If left unchecked, it threatened to overrun the forest and the catacombs beyond with stenchified sludge.

Jareth sighed and shook his head. There was so much to be done and here he was skulking about a soundstage like an obsessed fanboy! It was ludicrous!

"What the bloody hell am I doing here?" he asked himself aloud.

He had been content to watch Sarah from afar for years after she'd defeat-, best-, er, gone home. Of course, there was the matter of her dreams. As the champion of the labyrinth she was entitled to their fulfillment.

Jareth had never told her. He simply hadn't been able to bring himself to tell her that he could and would still make her dreams come true, despite her rejection. He couldn't bear to see the smug look on that pretty little face of hers. Besides, it only applied to her truest and deepest wishes.

Over the years Jareth had arranged an assortment of "lucky breaks" for Sarah: a spot opening up in that one theatre class she desperately wanted to get into, her portfolio winding up on the desk of a highly sought after agent, a leading lady mysteriously quitting a show abruptly, leaving Sarah to fill the coveted role.

"That must be what it is," Jareth thought to himself. "I simply like to come and view my handiwork."

She wouldn't be here without him, after all. Sure, she was talented and worked hard, but he knew that often wasn't enough in show business. The phrase "casting couch" passed through his mind and Jareth clenched his fists. The very thought of some lascivious director dangling a juicy role in front of Sarah in order to get her into his bed infuriated him.

"Wait, what was that thing about offering the girl her dreams in exchange…in exchange for what?" asked the teeny-tiny voice of his conscience.

"That was different," bellowed the much larger voice of his ego. "I wasn't just trying to seduce her. I was trying to win!"

"Sure you were. And now the thought of her being with someone else is making you jealous!"

"Tch, I'm not jealous."

He certainly had no designs on Sarah, but she was too far above those low-life, leering, midde-aged bald men who fancied themselves geniuses but were little more than disgruntled hacks. She was very talented, beautiful, mesmerizing. Any director would have to be crazy not to want to have her in his production.

"Or in his bed," Jareth said to himself.

"Move it or lose it!" called a male voice. Jareth turned and saw a hefty young man pushing a cartload of hanging clothes headed directly for him. He jumped backward into the frame one of the many closed doors in order to avoid being run over by the rack of costumes. He could only imagine the indignity of being laid out flat by an underpaid intern and his designer duds of death.

Frustrated, Jareth let his head fall back against the door once, then twice, then again.

"Yes?" said a voice from the other side of the door. Before he could answer, the door swung open and Jareth found himself face to face with the one person he had most hoped to avoid.

"Ja—Goblin King?" asked a very startled Sarah. She looked up at him with fear and amazement in her wide green eyes. "What the-?"

"Sarah," Jareth whispered, half to himself. She was a vision in a lavender dressing gown. Her dark hair was swept back from her face and held in place by a tortoise-shell clip. He noticed her feet were bare and that her toenails were painted powder blue.

"Sarah," he said again, louder this time. She began slowly backing away into what he discovered was her dressing room. Jareth followed, never taking his eyes off her face.

"Wh—what are you doing here?" Sarah stuttered. "What do you want?"

Jareth stopped, frozen in place by her words. What was he doing here? What did he want? He focused on her face, her pale perfect skin, her deep emerald eyes, her full rose-kissed lips.

Oh yes, that's it.

Without a word, he reached forward and gripped her shoulders and pulled her toward him. Before Sarah could blink, his lips were on hers and he was kissing her roughly, passionately. He had surprised her so much that she didn't even think to struggle. She, in turn, surprised him by opening her mouth and allowing him to caress her tongue with his. A little purr escaped Jareth's throat and it seemed to break the spell. Sarah squirmed out of his embrace and backed herself away from him, breathless and blushing.

"You-," she stammered. "You kissed me!"

Jareth smiled and adjusted the wrist of one of his dark gloves. "Yes," he said. "And you kissed me back."

Sarah seemed to take that in for a moment. Her eyes darted about the room and she laid a hand on her forehead as she searched for the words to say. She looked up at him and he saw anger flash in her gorgeous green eyes.

"You had your tongue in my mouth," she spat.

"Your tongue wasn't complaining," Jareth replied seductively.

Sarah glared at him. "What the hell do you want?" she asked.

"Isn't it obvious?" Jareth questioned in turn. He made a bold step toward her and had to laugh at himself. He himself had only just figured out what the devil he was doing there and what it was that he truly wanted. It wasn't enough to win. It wasn't enough to just fulfill the girl's dreams. But then, what if this was part of her dreams? She certainly hadn't put up any resistance when he kissed her…

He stepped closer to where she had plastered herself up against her dressing table and lifted a gloved hand to her cheek. She didn't flinch as his fingers brushed over her cheek and down along her jaw-line. Jareth smiled.

"You play the part of the scared rabbit, but you don't pull away from my touch. Interesting," he thought.

Sarah straightened herself and gave him a look of nonchalance. "I want you…to leave," she said calmly.

"Oh you do, do you?" Jareth said with a smirk. He leaned forward and placed a hand on the dressing table on either side of her, trapping her between his arms.

"Yes, I-" Sarah swallowed hard. "I-"

"Yes, Precious?" Jareth asked, raising an eyebrow. He bent down closer until his face was very close to hers. He could feel her breath, coming in short little puffs, blowing against his cheek. It made him shiver slightly. Sarah glanced around, obviously looking for some route of escape. Finding none, she settled on the element of surprise. She took his face in her hands and kissed him hard on the lips. Caught off-guard, Jareth stumbled backwards and Sarah was able to dance around him and toward the door of the dressing room.

"Sarah!" Jareth called as she released him and ran into the hall. Sarah paused and turned back to him for a moment.

"I have to go," she said. "I'm due in Hair and Makeup."

Jareth blinked as she disappeared down the hall. What was she saying? Did she regret having to leave? Did she want him to wait? Should he just hang out in her dressing room until she came back? No, that was out of the question. The Goblin King waited for no one. He had urgent business to attend. There was the Council, and the Goblin flu, and the leaky bog…

Oh, who was he kidding? The bloody bog would be there when he got back.


So... do you think His Nibs will wait around for Sarah? Maybe test out her wardrobe while she's away?

Can you name the ALW musical the title comes from? I'll give you a clue: roller skates

Stay tuned, Lovelies. Much more musical magic to come!

Fanny