Fade into You: Chapter 7 - I'll Come Running
The car smelled of the firewood they had just picked up. They were a straight shot to the campground from here. Excitement prickled at Sarah's skin, but she was too entertained to start her engine. Instead, she hid her smile behind her convenience store coffee and eavesdropped.
He was being so weird.
She didn't want to miss whatever this was promising to be.
Jareth was hugging his legs in the passenger seat—his feet tucked in. A crystal balanced atop his knees, and he peered into it, looking like an owl waiting for its moment to strike.
She could feel his patience palpably dwindling as an impenetrable goblin blundered on and on in an unsolicited recounting of his daily duties. The goblin's monotonous droning and earnest, glazed-over expression had so far proven impervious to any of Jareth's commands—commands that had turned into interruptions, then yelling, and then back to sharp little barbs hoping to catch.
So far, none of them had.
The top of a tiny helmeted head periodically popped in and out of frame. Scaly hands grasped for the crystal and missed with a series of audible 'oof's.
"Lem," Jareth snarled, not for the first time. He buzzed with agitated static. "Put. Flit. On."
Sarah's grin widened at his adopted telephone lingo.
"And then I shined the throne, Highness," the goblin called Lem boasted. He sniffed a trail of snot threatening its way from his overactive nose and charged on. "I polished all the bits and bobs, especially the knobs, and—"
Jareth ran a hand over his face. "Lem, I don't care about any of this. I'd sooner sit on a dirty bit or bob than I would through another moment of your dreary day. Pass the crystal to Flit."
"I picked all the feathers up off the floors," Lem bragged, oblivious to Jareth's simmering ire. "Cleaned them the best you've ever seen."
"Lem," Jareth ground out, skittering on the edge of yelling again.
Sarah tensed, ready to cover her ears. When he'd raised his voice before, Lem had simply adjusted his volume accordingly to match, unbothered.
Lem puffed up proudly. "The cleanest feathers in the Kingdom."
Jareth forced a smile that cracked like non-oven-safe cookware at five hundred degrees. "Lem. If you don't answer this directly, you will be polishing knobs in the bog."
Sarah snorted from her seat in the audience, and Jareth shot her a sour look.
Lem was silent—finally affected. His mouth hung open, and his eyes darted this way and that with uncertainty.
Jareth seemed relieved to seize this blessed moment of quiet and opened his mouth to speak.
"The bog's got knobs?" Lem broke in, sounding very put out. "If I knew, I'd've been polishing bog knobs this whole time."
"LEM!" It was a scream. Thunderous and reverberating.
Lem was thankfully quiet after this outburst, seemingly so bamboozled by the newly introduced concept of bog knobs that he was struck speechless for what Sarah suspected was the first time in his life.
"How are the animals?" Jareth asked, emphasizing each word crisply and distinctly as if binding Lem to answer in full.
Lem looked wary of the question like the answer was obvious, but he dared not respond incorrectly. "It's chicken tonight, again, Highness. It's always chicken, and it's always delicious."
Jareth growled through his teeth. "I didn't mean for dinner, Lem, I meant—" He stopped. The fizzing energy building to a crescendo around him dampened a bit as he collected himself.
He started again. "Lem. Give the crystal to Flit. Now."
Sarah watched, engrossed by this glimpse into Jareth's home life.
The crystal lost focus as a skirmish broke out between the two goblins on the other end.
"You heard him!" came a new, imperious voice as the crystal custody battle petered out.
The image cleared, settling on the grumpy face of a small goblin with a no-nonsense air about her beaky features. "Hmph!" she grunted, hip-checking the much larger Lem to little effect. She leveled Jareth with a scorned expression. "Some of us don't know our place."
Jareth's posture rearranged immediately upon seeing Flit—relaxing here, tensing there. Gone was the frenetic humming, but the air wasn't left flat when it fell away. Something new and warm clung to him. He wasn't exactly smiling at Flit, but he did seem relieved to see her.
He also seemed to be bracing himself.
Sarah noted Flit hadn't greeted Jareth formally. She hadn't addressed him at all. There was a familiarity between the two that had Sarah unconsciously leaning forward to witness more of their interactions.
Jareth's eyes darted to Sarah's and caught them, dancing there for a moment. Sarah knew what this meant. He had the mischief bug, and Flit was about to be on the receiving end of it.
"Flit." Jareth began, his tone sober, "I'm afraid I won't be returning home this weekend. I'm off to have a lovely time facing certain death at an untraceable location in the Aboveground wilderness."
Flit groaned in an exasperated way that Sarah felt in her bones.
"You'll be off to do no such thing," Flit told him—half informing, half begging. Like she hoped he was joking but suspected he wasn't.
Jareth sighed regretfully. "Ah, you see, Flit, I'm already off. In the midst of offing. Offed. Nothing to be done about it."
"You'll be the death of me," the little goblin grumped in a murmur meant to be heard, tossing her helmeted head. "Can't keep you out of trouble if you're all the way out there—up there—whichever or whatever it is you'll be."
Jareth softened, sinking back into his seat. "I'll be back in two days. Once I've quite burned myself out on the whole risking life and limb for a damsel thrill."
He winked at Sarah, a quick little slice just for her.
A long silence stretched. One enlarged, orange eyeball filled the crystal and swiveled shrewdly in all directions—a goat pupil hunting for whomever Jareth had winked at.
"Who are you with?" Flit finally asked, her squeaky voice dragging the question out like an unoiled door on rusty hinges.
Sarah's hand flew to her mouth, and she giggled through her fingers. She wasn't sure what was funnier; this canny little goblin's controlling demeanor or the fact that Sarah dodged her searching eye like a teenager caught at lover's lane.
"I do require a personal life, you know," Jareth scolded before rushing on. "It's called camping, Flit. Above folk do it for recreation. It's not as dangerous as I painted it to be."
"The why is the part I'm missing," Flit groused, unhappy with being made a joke of. "You're not one to go foresting around out of owl form."
Jareth made a show of pondering the question. "For love. Why else?"
Sarah didn't see if he winked at her this time. Her eyes cut away before he could snare them, and she felt a flush creep up her neck. Jareth reached across the car and nudged her shoulder—compulsively determined to complete the connection she had shirked.
Sarah smiled up at him. He smiled back and turned to a decidedly unsmiling Flit.
"Flit, I'll need you to feed the animals and provide them with water. Be sure to shut the doors to the balcony after nightfall. Open them again after sunrise."
Flit nodded. "Yes, yes. They've already been fed. I'll mind the balcony, and"—she cupped a conspiratory hand over her mouth in the wrong direction—"I'll personally keep Lem out of your chambers."
"Good," Jareth replied before asking, "How is she?"
She wasn't sure who he was asking about, but his tone had turned so suddenly that it surprised even Sarah. There had been something imploring about it. His body had shifted, too. It seemed to unburden him just to get the question out. Like it was what he'd been waiting to ask all along.
A curious expression waited on Sarah's face should Jareth happen to glance back her way.
Flit seemed to know exactly who Jareth was referring to. "Oh, you know Teacake. That cat wouldn't dare have a bad day." Her beaky mouth twitched with something like an affectionate smirk. "She knows you wouldn't like it."
"Wise girl," Jareth agreed fondly. "Is she," he searched for the right word. "About?"
Flit squinted. "About? She's as about as she ever is. She doesn't leave your chambers. As you well know. Why are you asking a question like that? Is she about…." The little goblin sucked her beak at Jareth disapprovingly.
"Flit." Jareth leaned his face impossibly close to the curved edge. "Place the crystal near her face so she can perceive me."
Flit looked dubious. Whatever she saw in Jareth's expression had her pinching the bridge of her beak in exasperation. "You're serious," she stated—deadpan.
It wasn't a question, and Jareth didn't bother answering her.
Flit assessed him, seemingly deciding whether challenging him on this would expend more energy than indulging him. After a long beat, she reached her conclusion and released a prolonged, nasally breath that was so relatable Sarah almost forgot she wasn't supposed to be laughing.
Flit moved out of focus. The crystal was jostled this way and that, accompanied by her indignant muttering.
"…whatever His Majesty commands...death of me…."
The image eventually resolved on a patchy-furred black cat with a missing ear and an impressively steady supply of saliva on her chin. Rattling breaths infiltrated the car in mystical surround sound as the crystal rolled to rest near her face. Large, milky eyes were made all the more round by the fish-eye effect of the crystal. The tip of her tongue protruded, poking in and out of her mouth in various stages with each breath.
Sarah gasped. She'd never seen anything like this cat and was immediately obsessed.
Jareth's head snapped over at her sharply. He didn't speak the warning, but it drilled directly from blues to greens.
Not a word.
"Oh my GOD," Sarah mouthed at him.
"Drive," he mouthed back, two syllables instead of one. Dry-vuh.
Teacake didn't mouth anything. She gazed through the crystal and purred.
Sarah hadn't seen that look on Jareth's face before, that particular way his mouth curved at the cat's contented sounds. Something she was too distracted to entertain compressed her insides, packing them in much too tightly.
Jareth let the curvy smile linger on his lips as he gave the cat another adoring once-over.
Teacake's expression could be interpreted as adoring to match, though she looked through Jareth rather than at him. It seemed clear that she perceived him, her purr taking on a supplementary rumbling depth when he cooed at her.
"I can smell you from here, you stinky beast," Jareth accused. "I bet you're stinking up the whole castle."
Teacake said nothing to deny or confirm this but doubled down on her purrs as if proud of his observations. The drool, an impressive rivulet before, was now a torrential weather event.
Sarah was beside herself, watching this unfold. Jareth was a cat dad. Full stop.
It was all she could do not to squirm in her seat to get a better look at Teacake. And Jareth's face. His fucking face was too much.
Jareth shifted his body to block her view like his moment with Teacake would be more meaningful without her interfering.
"Are you being a good girl?" he asked the cat conversationally like he anticipated a reply.
The purring abruptly stopped.
Jareth frowned, bringing the crystal close in concern. "Tea?" he wondered aloud, his lashes nearly fluttering against the sphere.
A wretching hack bit through the car, followed by a series of sounds signaling gastrointestinal distress. Jareth jerked the crystal away from his face, giving Sarah a view of Teacake's rolling cloudy eyes as what promised to be a rather impressive hairball worked its way up her throat.
"Flit!" Jareth declared, breaking from Cat Dad voice. Goblin King again. "Tea has had enough."
Magnified goblin claws swooped the crystal away at what sounded like a crucial moment.
"Hold on, hold on!" came Flit's put-upon voice from the ether. "No one else'll mop up this mess."
Sarah and Jareth were treated to the magically amplified ambiance of Flit's cleaning and general bustling about. Teacake had ended and begun rounds two and three.
Jareth released a long breath and held the crystal away from him, covering it with a palm. Sarah noticed that It did nothing to dampen the noise, and her lip was numb between her teeth from biting back a grin.
He finally met her waiting eyes. "Must you be so meddlesome?"
"Meddlesome?" Sarah's bottled-up energy fizzed over into laughter. "I didn't even say anything!"
Jareth tsked impatiently. "Yes, but you"—he gestured to demonstrate something flowing from his chest—"exuded."
"I exuded?" Sarah's laugh was rolling and rebellious now, beyond her authority. She was so pent up from the car ride and from having to stay quiet for so long.
"Exuded," Jareth confirmed, chuckling despite himself. His hand gestures took on a lewd fluidity. "You were exuding rather frivolously all over my personal conversations."
Sarah was wheezing. It was too much, made worse by Flit's occasional groans and gripes from all directions.
"Lanks," she said, catching her breath. "I just learned that you have been hiding Teacake, an absurdly cute cat who has completely bewitched you. And now I'm bewitched, too. I think I held my shit together pretty well."
Jareth's eyes were glittering as they held hers. His mouth opened, but whatever he was about to say was cut off abruptly by Flit's voice charging back in at full force. The busy-body goblin was a jarring contrast to the serene, drooling cat, and Jareth's fingers peeled away from the crystal one by one as if reluctant to reveal her again.
"I wish all of your guests were as sweet as your Teacake here," Flit remarked in clipped tones.
Sarah arched a brow. The comment seemed out of place, considering Flit had just been on Teacake clean-up duty. There was an accusatory slight nestled in the compliment, but Sarah suspected it had nothing to do with Teacake. She'd gotten the impression Flit was equally smitten with the cat.
"They are residents. They are not guests," Jareth hissed in a because-I-said-so way that did not welcome defiance.
Sarah's brow shot up further at Jareth's testy reaction. He'd also felt the dig in Flit's comment, but she wasn't sure why it had riled him.
"I have to say it," Flit pressed on, too flustered by some yet-to-be-expressed grievance to crumble beneath Jareth's glower. "Curd has tested my patience. I can only take so much!"
Jareth breathed out heavily, seeming to understand where this was going. "She's angry with me that I'm leaving. It's expected that she'll act up a bit," he offered.
Flit gaped at him, looking as though she was quickly approaching whatever end of whatever tether had been holding her up thus far. "How would she know you're leaving?" she blustered. "I didn't even know you were leaving!"
"She knows," Jareth confided sagely. "She has that knowing way about her."
"Respectfully," Flit seethed, forcing disrespect into each syllable. "Curd spends half her time trying to kill you when you are in the castle! The only reason she'd rather you be home is so she could finish the job."
Jareth smiled at that. "She keeps me on my toes," he noted admiringly.
"She keeps me sleepless, is what she does," Flit complained, sounding truly exhausted. "Searching staircases for marbles has become part of my morning and afternoon schedules. She's worse than the goblins."
"You are a goblin," Jareth pointed out helpfully. "I'll have a word with her when I return." Jareth's tone wasn't unkind but did not invite argument either.
"Have a word!" Flit shrilled. "For goblins' sake…." Her horizontal pupils leveled at Jareth. "She reminds me of another feral young beast who once terrorized these halls. She reminds you, too, and that's why—"
"She's a raccoon!" Jareth defended.
Sarah almost spit coffee all over her console. She covered her coughs and tried to lock bulging eyes with Jareth, but he studiously ignored her.
"A raccoon that needs discipline," Flit went on, unwilling to back down, before delivering her final blow. "Just like all feral things!"
"Don't." It was a warning, command, and plea all in one.
Flit rolled her goat eyes, but her sharp intensity eased. When she spoke again, it was with a long-suffering softness that can only come from putting up with someone as long as they've been around to be put up with.
"Well, you just have a grand time out in the who-knows-where braving mortal peril and all that," she told him, bitter-soft.
"I'm immortal, Flit," Jareth informed her. His voice was flat. Whatever playfulness he had brought into the conversation was gone.
"Yes," Flit agreed astutely. "But Sarah isn't."
Sarah—still recovering from her spluttering—froze. She had been perceived. The acknowledgment of her presence hung there. She fought against her throat's relentless contractions, eyes streaming, and she just wanted to laugh again.
An orange eye zoomed in close again and pinned Jareth in a suddenly private communication meant exclusively for the two of them. Flit's strident voice fell to a stage whisper. "You'll be a gentleman," she instructed reprovingly. "As I taught you." It was an added threat that may as well have been an or else.
Jareth recoiled. "Personal life, Flit," he reminded her brusquely before saying, "I must be going. I've illuminated Sarah enough for one day, and I'm concerned I've spooked the poor woman. She looks remarkably unwell."
"Right, right," Flit groused dismissively. "Personal life, boundaries, and all that. Off with you!" Her goblin claws were back, shaking the crystal hither and thither. "You're going to have to undo this thing, though, because I don't know how to—"
The crystal vanished.
Jareth hugged his shins to his chest again, cheek resting on his knees.
Sarah started her engine, deciding to let Jareth brood out the window and reflect unbothered for a while. She desperately wanted to unpack that call home. It took everything in her not to bombard him immediately.
She couldn't stop herself from glancing over at him nosily, though, and he must have felt it. His unhurried head rolled until his eyes snagged hers. "You're making a study of me, Sarah Williams."
"I have questions," she admitted as she pulled onto the road. "So many questions."
Jareth sent her an ambiguous smile. "I'll answer them. But not now."
Sarah's stomach sank. "Sure." She regretted the hurt in her voice. He didn't owe her anything, but still. It stung to be shut out when she shared so much with him.
"Sarah." Jareth's full attention was on her; she could feel it burning a hole through the side of her face.
She hummed an acknowledgment.
"I like that you have questions," he told her. "I could better answer them if you were to visit me."
Sarah's fingers briefly tightened on the steering wheel as a familiar cocktail of curiosity and apprehension trickled through her veins. He'd hinted at this before, poked, and prodded her about visiting him. He had never outright invited her. Even now, she knew he was being generous by not including a date and time to commit to or reject.
It was a temperature check. A quick pulse.
To her surprise, the idea of visiting the Goblin Kingdom didn't grip her with the same fear it had in the past. She was having a hard time remembering the root of those fears now as Jareth relentlessly moved the passenger window up and down with a childlike fascination. His proposition and gloomy mood were both ostensibly forgotten.
Sarah clicked the window lock button—freezing his window halfway down to match hers so her eardrums didn't explode—and drove on without a word.
Jareth switched tasks, unruffled, picking through the CDs they had brought with them. "We haven't even started this one," he commented excitedly, the road trip spirit moving through him. He popped in a disc labeled 'Road Trip Mix #2'
Sarah eased back into her seat as the tune of Carole King's 'You've Got a Friend' warmed her from the stereo. A favorite of theirs. She felt herself relax, fingers plunking out the familiar piano notes against her steering wheel.
She caught Jareth in the corner of her eye. The wind from the open window tugged his wild hair into a golden aura that surrounded them both—filling the car with him. He was posed, his lips pursed, ready to serenade her.
Sarah glimpsed her reflection in the rearview, lungs filling through her smile, ready to sing back.
A/N:
Oh, hi! I cannot properly tell you how relieved I am to have this chapter out. I thought it was done, and then I poked and prodded and poked some more until it turned into this beast. It was initially much shorter, but I expanded it to give you more Lem, Flit, and of course, our promised Teacake (who must be protected at all costs). Curd, too.
This chapter is probably twice as long as it was when I first showed it to Geliot99, who beta-read it for me (like 20 times). It's thanks to their encouragement that I gave you more of the characters I have grown to love. I hope you like them, too.
And I hope you're excited about camping! That's up next, I promise. It's not just cars that smell like firewood from here on out. Swear.
Please drop me a line to tell me what you think, feel...all the things. It keeps my little author's heart beating.
Oh! I have a super exciting update to share! Geliot99 and I just posted a new story we are writing together called Thirty Days to a Magical Life. I'd love it if you checked it out. You can find it over on AO3 under either of our usernames: Geliot99 or foxfaceinthewindow