Dear Old Friend
My dear old friend, can't believe you're here, old friend. After all this time, so glad you came. You look sublime. You look the same.
Sarah's mind was still reeling as she settled into the chair at the make-up artist's station. The Goblin King had been in her dressing room. He had been in her dressing room and he had kissed her! She lifted a trembling hand to her lips. Her eyes closed, remembering the feel of his mouth on hers. She had never been kissed like that. She'd been kissed plenty of times, and by a wide variety of men, but not one of them had come close to that kiss. It was hot, intense... what was the word she was looking for?
"Radioactive?" asked the make-up artist.
"Huh? What?" Sarah babbled, broken from her daydream.
"The lip color," replied the make-up artist. "I've been dying to use this one." She held up a tube of deep red lipstick. "It's called Radioactive and your lips are perfect for it."
"Uh, sure. Fine," Sarah told her. She sat back and tried to relax while the make-up artist carefully did her job. Relaxing was hard for Sarah on a normal day, but after what had just happened it seemed out of the question. She kept thinking about the look on Jareth's face when she had opened the door of her dressing room. He'd seemed surprised, even embarrassed. What was he even doing there?
"Open your eyes wide," instructed the make-up artist. Sarah did as she was told and allowed the woman to apply a thick coat of mascara to her lashes.
"And what about that kiss?" thought Sarah. It seemed so impulsive, spur-of-the-moment. Hardly like the Goblin King. He'd always seemed to have a plan in place, a definite strategy. Take the girl back to the beginning, give the girl the peach…
"Hey, I'll be right back, okay? I need to get my other kit," the make-up artist told Sarah before scurrying away. Sarah sat back in the chair and sighed. She needed to talk to someone. Someone who perhaps could give her some answers. She would just have to be quick about it. She leaned forward toward the vanity mirror and whispered the words she hadn't uttered in over three years.
"Hoggle, I need you."
"Well, it's about time you called," the little dwarf said gruffly.
"I'm sorry, Hoggle," Sarah answered. "I've just been really busy."
"Hmph," grunted Hoggle. "Too busy for your friends. That's not like…ah…ah…AH-CHOO!" The dwarf sneezed and blew his bulbous nose on a large red handkerchief.
"Bless you," said Sarah. "Are you feeling okay?"
Hoggle glared at her from the mirror. "No, I ain't" he replied huffily. "It's the blasted Goblin Flu. I feel like a bag of beaten peckers."
Sarah giggled at Hoggle's coarseness. Some things would never change.
"Goblin Flu?" asked Sarah, suddenly intrigued. "But you're not a goblin…"
"Of course I ain't," grumbled the dwarf. "It's only called the Goblin Flu 'cause it started with the goblins. Anyone can get it."
"I see," said Sarah. "You look almost like you have a human cold."
"If you're referring to my temperature," Hoggle began, "you're close. I'm chilled one minute, burnin' up the next. My head aches, and I can't stop ah…ah…AH-CHOO! Sneezing."
"Definitely sounds like a cold to me," Sarah told him. "You need some chicken soup."
"Chicken soup?" asked Hoggle. "Do chickens make soup?"
"No," Sarah answered with a laugh. "You make soup out of the chickens. There are still chickens around there, aren't there?"
The dwarf frowned. "Are you kidding? This place is overrun with chickens! His Majesty used to regulate them more, but the blasted things have gotten out of hand. They're in every nook and cranny here!"
"Really? Why hasn't the king done anything?" Sarah questioned.
"Beats the hell out of me," answered Hoggle. "Nobody's even seen the king for days now." He blew his nose again loudly.
"Hmmm," thought Sarah. "There's a goblin epidemic and a chicken infestation and His Nibs is here lurking outside my dressing room?" It made no sense. Was he looking for her help? Is that why he was there? Why he'd kissed her? Was he trying to seduce her into helping him? It didn't seem likely. The Goblin King was probably the last person on earth Above or Below who would ever ask for her help.
"So why did you call me after all this time?" Hoggle asked, interrupting her thoughts.
"Oh, I…" Sarah paused. She wasn't sure she should tell the dwarf that Jareth was there. He already had no love for the Goblin King, and he would be thoroughly pissed to find out that he was making out with her in her dressing room while the Underground went to pot.
"I just wanted to catch up," Sarah finally blurted. Hoggle was about to say something more, but Sarah cut him off. She could hear the make-up artist in the hall.
"I have to go, Hoggle, but I promise I'll call you again soon. Feel better, ok? Remember the chicken soup."
"Fine," said the dwarf. "Probably won't work, but at least there'll be one less chicken to deal with."
He disappeared just as the make-up artist returned with her kit. "Ready for some magic?" she asked brightly.
"God, I hope so," Sarah answered wistfully.
The Goblin King was draped across one of Sarah's dressing room chairs, flipping through a magazine when she returned. He glanced up at her casually. She was still in the lavender dressing gown, but her face had been made up (too much for his tastes) and her hair had been styled into large, sexy curls that framed her face and spilled over her shoulders. He smiled seductively at her.
"You know," he purred. "You clean up rather well."
"Oh, you mean I look okay when I'm not filthy and sweaty from falling into oubliettes, and dangling over stenchy bogs and fighting goblin armies?" Sarah asked, putting her hands on her hips.
"Yes, precisely," answered Jareth with a smirk.
Sarah frowned and began pacing around his seat. "What are you doing here?" she asked. "I happen to know that while you had your tongue down my throat, your kingdom and subjects have been dealing with a really nasty sickness as well as a chicken infestation."
Jareth jumped up angrily from his seat. "Who have you been talking to?" he demanded. "It was Hedgewart, wasn't it?"
Sarah sighed in annoyance. "Keep your tights on, Majesty. It doesn't matter, does it? What I've said is true, right?"
Jareth plopped back down on the chair. "It's really none of your concern," he said bitterly.
"Maybe not," said Sarah, "But it should be yours. Why haven't you done anything?"
Jareth held up his hands in a gesture of frustration. "I've tried," he finally admitted. "The Goblin Flu keeps spreading, the chickens are multiplying faster than I can keep up with, and the Bog-"
"Wait, what about the Bog?" asked Sarah.
"It has a leak."
Sarah thought for a moment. "I don't know what to tell you to do about the Goblin Flu, but couldn't you just "magic" the chickens away?"
Jareth looked at her as if she'd grown another head. "Magic them away?" he asked. "What kind of idiotic solution is that?"
"I don't know!" cried Sarah, throwing up her arms. "Isn't that what you do?"
"Magic doesn't work that way, Precious," he told her shaking his head. "I can't make things vanish from existence. If I did use magic to remove the chickens, I'd have to find somewhere else to put them."
Sarah thought for a while again. "Put them in the Bog," she offered. "Dam the thing up with chickens!"
"An interesting idea," said Jareth, "but I'm afraid it wouldn't work."
"Why not?"
"Because," Jareth replied. "Chickens are mobile creatures and would just return to the city and castle and the last thing I need on top of everything else is a kingdom full of putrid poultry!" He laid a leather-clad hand over his eyes. Sarah had never seen him so unraveled. She moved to his side and placed her hand on his arm.
"It's okay," she assured him. "You'll think of something." He tensed slightly beneath her hand and Sarah wondered if he resented her touching him. She wanted to say more, to ask about the kiss, but she knew this was probably not the time. Besides, he'd probably only done it to unnerve her.
"I should return," Jareth said, rising regally from the chair. "I've wasted enough time here."
Wasted time, huh? The thought stung Sarah a bit. "See, Williams?" she told herself. "That kiss definitely didn't mean anything."
"Oh, okay," she told the Goblin King as he walked toward the door. "Good luck with the Goblin Flu and the chickens and stuff."
"Yes, thank you," Jareth replied. He looked uncertain. "Sarah, about earlier…"
"Yes?" Sarah said expectantly.
"Williams, you're due on set in five. Get dressed!" Sarah looked away from Jareth toward the demanding voice and saw the assistant stage manager glaring at her from the doorway.
"Yes, Mr. B.," she answered. Turning back to Jareth, she said, "I have to get dressed for the-" but Jareth had vanished.
That night after taping, Sarah returned to her dressing room. She hadn't seen anymore of the Goblin King and wondered if he had returned to the Underground.
"Hoggle, I need you," she said to her dressing room mirror. The mirror rippled slightly and the weathered face of the little dwarf swam into view. He looked surprisingly bright-eyed and chipper.
"Sarah!" he cried when he saw her. "It's magic, that soup of yours! I made and ate one pot of the stuff and feel better than I have in days! How did you know?"
Sarah shrugged. "Chicken soup is a cure-all here Aboveground," she told him. "At least that's what grandmothers and Old Wives say."
Hoggle chuckled. "I think perhaps I could bottle the stuff and sell it and retire from gardening. The way this Goblin Flu is running rampant, I'd make a fortune!"
Sarah's eyes widened at his words. "Hoggle! Of course! That'll take care of two problems at one time! Oh, I could kiss you!"
Hoggle backed away from the mirror as if Sarah actually could kiss him through it. "Huh? What are you talking about?"
Sarah tried to stifle a giggle. "Hoggle, is His Majesty back?" she asked.
"Unfortunately," Hoggle answered with a frown.
"Good," said Sarah. "I want you to go see him at once."
"What?" cried Hoggle. "What would I go see that rat for?"
"Because you have just discovered the cure for the Goblin Flu and a solution to the chicken infestation," answered Sarah.
"I have?"
"Of course you have!" Sarah told him, smiling. "Now, go right away before the chickens can hatch more hell-spawn."
Hoggle smiled at her from the mirror. "Goin' right now. Thanks, Sarah!"
He disappeared from the mirror and Sarah smiled to herself. She could be quite clever when she wanted, though who would have guessed that mundane chicken soup would have a magical illness-fighting effect on Underground creatures? She felt a bit sorry for the poor chickens, but figured that by this point they were less like barn yard animals and more like termites, infesting every corner and wreaking havoc on whatever they came in contact with. Besides, animal population control was important. It was part of that whole "Circle-of-Life" thing.
Sarah changed clothes and headed out the door to go home. She stopped by the craft table to see what was left of dinner, but there were only some stale ham sandwiches and a few limp pieces of fruit. Her stomach growled irritably and Sarah knew what she wanted right then more than anything.
Chicken soup.
A/N:
Ah, so a bit stupid and simplistic, I know. But hey, this series is based on Andrew Lloyd Webber songs, so what do you expect? I have nothing against dear Andy. In fact, I love Phantom of the Opera. ALW is kind of a musical nincompoop though. I suppose I could say the same thing about my fic writing. That's another story though.
Any guesses for the musical the title comes from? First correct guess wins a free Goblin Flu immunization package complete with rubber gloves and face mask!
I think I tried to throw in as many Laby-fic cliché/rules as possible here: Sarah/Jareth angst, smexy Goblin King draped over furniture, mirrors, and chickens. There must be chickens.
