Fade into You: Chapter 6 - Hey, Bear!
"Something I can help you find, sir?" Sarah called out in her best customer service voice.
She stepped around the camping gear accumulating on her patio and found Jareth rummaging with abandon in her outside closet. He stood with his back to her among tackle boxes, a tent, sleeping bags, and other equipment she hadn't seen in years. He had also gotten into her Girl Scout era mementos, she noticed with remorse. Her beloved non-uniform bucket hat perched precariously atop his boisterous hair, and her green vest and beret had been laid out for future comment.
Jareth turned to her in a focused flurry, the slightly too-small denim hat shifting half a degree with the movement. "Yes. You can show me where you've hidden the cookies. I've uncovered evidence," he added, motioning to the Girl Scout attire.
"J, I don't keep desiccated cookies outside with my badges," Sarah informed him. "You're a logical thinker, but there's a concerning disconnect when your sugar lust is involved."
"Sugar lust." The phrase rolled around on his tongue sinfully as he tasted it. He smirked. "Accurate."
Sarah swooped the hat off his head and ducked beneath it. She tugged the brim down as if keeping the sun from her eyes on a particularly punishing hike. It felt cozy—like slipping on a favorite version of herself.
She reached for the vest and ran her hands over the badges fondly. "I don't think I told you I was a Scout," she ventured as she traced each tiny accomplishment.
"Not a word." Jareth tipped his head and considered her. "Though you do purchase the cookies dutifully every year."
"The signs were there," Sarah alleged, but she wasn't sure. She flipped through her memories to find one of reminiscing with him about fire building, survival strategies, or anything related to utility knives. She came up short and added uncertainly, "Scout, through and through."
Jareth hummed in disagreement. "Sarah, that uniform was shoved so far back in this closet; I'm tempted to think you were trying to spirit it away to Narnia."
"No," Sarah told him, a little too quickly for her liking. "Narnia can't have it. I just want to be selective about when I am reminded. That's all."
"I see," Jareth said. He grimaced like he regretted saying it. Like he didn't see, didn't know what to say, and hadn't anticipated treading upon a nerve.
Sarah's hand fell away from the green canvas. She hadn't meant to let this take a heavy turn.
"It's okay," she reassured him with a smile, determined to lighten the mood again. "I'm taking this hat, though."
"I found it," Jareth complained.
She shrugged like the law of hat ownership was cut and dry. "It's mine."
His hip jutted in the way Sarah loved. "You'd forgotten all about it."
"It was my favorite hat," Sarah announced, dancing away from his grasping fingers.
"You'd forgotten it was your favorite," Jareth pointed out. "Imagine how it feels. It deserves a head that favors it anew."
"Fine," Sarah relented, plopping the bucket hat back onto his head. "We'll share it. You can wear it for now."
Jareth preened, satisfied. He didn't argue.
Sarah looked at him in the poorly fitting hat and couldn't help but feel warmed by him. By his pestering and his ceaseless interest in uncovering all things Sarah. She didn't have to share more with him, but something about the frantic hair sticking out from beneath that frayed brim made her press on.
"My mom was a Scout, but she wasn't involved in it anymore when I was a kid. I had a fantasy every year that she would be my troop leader." Sarah felt a sad smile sneak along her face. "She was the ultimate cool Scout. She knew everything." Sarah paused at seeing the puzzled expression on Jareth's face. "Did I lose you?" she asked.
Jareth looked relieved to be checked in on. "I have no context for Girl Scouts other than their dependable selection of seasonal confection."
"Good one," Sarah praised, smiling at his poetry. "Girl Scouts do all sorts of things. But my favorite part was the wilderness training and survival skills."
Jareth's eyebrows shot to his hairline, and Sarah felt compelled to convince him. "You know I love camping, at least, right? That's not a secret."
His nod was reluctant. "I know you are a person who has camped." He gestured to the array of camping and fishing equipment around them. "I didn't know it was a secret hobby that required an entire secret closet."
Sarah laughed nervously. "It's not a secret anything. I love camping. I am, in fact, an expert camper." She was proud of that, and she hoped it showed.
She picked up her backpacking bag from the floor and rifled through it briefly. A dull ache replaced a hollowness in her chest that Sarah hadn't acknowledged was there.
Jareth leaned against the closet doorframe, observing her curiously as she hung the bag back on its hook.
Sarah settled against the opposite frame—mirroring him.
A leather boot slithered forward to rest against her slippered foot. Sarah sent Jareth a quick smile and tried to keep it on her face longer than it was willing to stay.
"You're sad," Jareth asserted bluntly. He nudged her ankle to make up for it.
"I do feel a little sad when I see this stuff," Sarah confessed. "I hauled it all here when I moved in, and I haven't used any of it—minus the lanterns coming in handy a time or two when the power has gone out. I don't know anyone who likes camping."
Jareth was quiet for a moment. His expression warmed with new affection when he inquired, "Toby doesn't leap at the opportunity?"
Sarah's eyes rolled. "I tried once. He spent the whole night sporadically yelling, 'Hey, bear!' as a precautionary measure. Camping is not his thing."
"Hey, bear?" Jareth asked, confusion and amusement battling for dominance on his face.
"Yeah," Sarah answered casually. "Some say yelling pleasantries at a bear will deter it from delivering a horrendous death chomp. You can remember that if we ever go camping." She meant it more like a threat than an invitation.
Jareth considered her for a moment from beneath the lip of the hat. "I'd like that," he told her.
Sarah stared at him, surprised. She couldn't imagine him roughing it with her in the wilderness. The idea would have made her laugh if it didn't make her feel so unnervingly exposed.
"Trust me. You wouldn't. Bears are gnarly," she cautioned.
"Not the bear-induced demise, Sarah," Jareth clarified with a not-to-be-dissuaded ankle bump. "Camping. With you."
Sarah studied him, his leather-protected fingers, silk shirt, and cream linen breeches. "You like the idea of it, but you would probably hate it in practice. You'd have to rely on me to do everything because I wouldn't let you use magic."
Jareth shook his head. "Now that I am armed with, 'Hey, bear,' I can relax knowing our safety is assured. Yes, I'll be the bear point person. You can do the rest of the heavy lifting. It's sorted."
She ignored that and warned, "There are a lot of insects."
Jareth, unruffled, ran a gloved finger along the artery of his throat. "They wouldn't dare sip upon my royal blood."
Sarah huffed at his narcissism. "And beasties," she continued, waggling her fingers like claws and baring her teeth. "Not just bears."
"I live with Goblins, Sarah." He gave her a bored look. "I rule them, in fact."
Her eyes narrowed. "You'd get dirty."
Jareth looked momentarily unsettled before his eyes narrowed right back at her. His eyebrows shifted suggestively. "So would you."
The way the words rumbled out of him made Sarah feel like she could use a shower, camping or not.
"Reallydirty," she continued, then added, "Filthy."
A flash of panic flitted behind Jareth's eyes. He didn't have a rebuttal to that, it seemed. He may spend his days among grimy goblins, but Jareth took pride in keeping himself impeccably clean. After a flustered moment, he asked, "Why are you challenging me on this?"
The defenses Sarah hadn't realized she had put up melted. A wave of guilt replaced them as she saw the hurt etching along his sharp features.
"I'm sorry," she said sincerely. "I get you're trying to be supportive. I didn't realize it was such a sensitive thing until now."
"You don't need to be sorry," Jareth assured her, returning the bucket hat to her head like he understood the comfort it provided. His hand lingered there, a steady pressure on the top of her skull—another comfort.
Sarah gave him a half smile from beneath the brim. The hat smelled vaguely of sunscreen and citronella.
She breathed in the familiar scent, gathering strength she didn't know she needed to tell him the rest. "Camping as a kid with my mom was rare but magical. Just her, me, the wilderness, and everything she could teach me about how to survive in it. It was the only time I felt like she saw me. I could show off what I had learned and prove I'd remembered what she had taught me the season before."
Jareth's eyes shined with interest as he listened. His hand on her head felt warm and grounding.
"I miss it," Sarah shared. "I need to separate the wilderness from her. It's fine they existed together in my past, but I don't want to push something I love out of my life because I'm waiting around for something that will never happen."
Jareth was quiet. His head tilted and tilted and tilted.
Sarah pulled her lip between her teeth and chewed. Her heart was suddenly skipping beats. She took a steadying breath and said, "I know a place where you can't tell the sky from its reflection when the water is still. You might like camping if you saw something like that."
Jareth beamed at her wildly and ruffled the hat on her head. "Is it far?"
Sarah grinned back at him, his enthusiasm catching. "A day trip. It's still early. We could leave this morning and spend the weekend."
Her stomach danced up her esophagus. 'The weekend' was a nebulous invitation. It could mean one night or two. But either way, it involved a sleepover in a tent with Jareth. She would have been nervous about this not too long ago. Afraid of what could happen and what it could mean.
Jareth clapped his hands once, immediately onboard. "What does one wear camping? Oh, and I must remember to check in with the goblins." His face fell a bit. "Teacake has never been without a word from me for two whole days."
"Teacake?" Sarah asked, her eyebrows skyrocketing.
"You'll find out soon enough," Jareth assured her.
He'd confirmed days and two nights together. Sarah had an idea of what she was signing up for, but she was perfectly willing to let herself pretend she didn't.
Two whole days
Maybe she was a little nervous, she admitted to herself. But she wasn't afraid.
A/N:
A thousand thanks (and a bird of gratitude on the way) to Geliot99 for not only beta-reading this chapter but also pushing (and pushing) me to finish it. I appreciate you a freaking lot.
Chapter 7 is complete. Don't worry, I'm not evil enough to time jump and not write the two-day same-tent tension event. Who do you think I am?
So. Will they survive each other for a weekend in the woods? And who in heck is Teacake?
I'd love to know what you think. Thanks so much for reading.