Chapter Nine

Sarah

If silence can heal

I know it can kill

I feel its caress

- Elizaveta, Meant

September 25th, 2002. Day 8 of the quarantine

Sarah sat back to back with Jareth on the fire escape, a book propped up against her raised knees. He was flipping through one of her back copies of Bon Appetite!, having gone through all of Cosmo. The cooking magazine was a subscription Karen had signed her up for, hinting over a phone call that, maybe if you cooked a little more often, you could attract a nice man.

Sarah smirked at the memory and started re-reading the last paragraph of the fantasy novel in her hands. This particular book was a little saucier than what she usually read, and she had to admit certain scenes were of particular interest with the warmth of the Goblin King at her back.

"Mio amico!" Cried a voice from above, and when Sarah looked up, she saw the round face of Hector smiling down at them. "My friend, how are you doing? And the lovely Sarah. How are you, my dear?"

"I'm well, Mr. Palermo," Sarah said. "How are you?"

She felt the movement against her back as Jareth also looked up, shading his eyes. He wore his gloves again.

I'll make him take them off later.

If she had thought being touched by him was electrifying when he was gloved, feeling his bare skin against her flesh was in a realm all its own. The image of it in her mind was enough to make her stomach flutter with anticipation. He's like a drug.

"Buongiorno, Hector," Jareth called. "Are you going to be practicing today?"

"Sì, Jareth. Any requests?"

"Something lively," the Goblin King suggested. "It is a beautiful day."

Hector ducked back inside his apartment, and a few moments later, the first couple chords of Here Comes the Sun drifted out. Sarah hummed along a little, the lyrics coming back to her as the song progressed.

"Will you sing for me, Sarah?"

She closed her eyes. She had sung back in the school choir, and of course, she blasted Alanis Morissette sometimes in the car and belted it out, especially after Patrick. The prick.

She took a deep breath in through the nose and out through the mouth, and jumped in with the next set of lyrics.

"Little darling, I feel the ice is slowly melting

Little darling, it feels like years since it's been clear

Here comes the sun

Here comes the sun, and I'll say

It's alright. It's alright."

The piano continued for a little while longer, finishing the song, but even before the last notes ended, people were applauding. She opened her eyes and saw neighbors hanging out their windows, clapping, and whistling and crying out for more.

Sarah laughed, surprised, and a little embarrassed. She was a strong singer, but not the best. Not as good as Jareth had been, when he sang to her in the ballroom. That song still haunted her memories. Still, she was pleased when Jareth turned his head enough to say in her ear, "That was lovely."

Hector grinned when he next came into view. "We cannot disappoint your audience, lovely Sarah. What next?"

Sarah rose, setting her book down on her windowsill, and thought for a moment. "I'm not sure, what can you play?"

"Tiny Dancer!" Someone shouted from across the street. This was soon echoed by other requests.

They did Tiny Dancer, then Day Dream Believer and Mrs. Robinson. Almost all the neighbors joined in on the chorus, and some sung right alongside her. But by the time the fourth song was at its end, Sarah was at her limit and took her bow to a few well-meaning boos and a lot of cheering. Face flaming, she turned to Jareth, smile wide, to find he looked quite serious, his eyes heavy with thought. "What's wrong?"

He stared at her a moment more, and then stepped aside, so she could get into the apartment. She did, and he slipped in after her, picking up her book off the windowsill. Hector was still pounding away on the piano upstairs, the noise louder through the floor than it had been outside.

Sarah put a hand on Jareth's arm as soon as they were both standing by her little makeshift office space. "Are you okay?"

He reached up and cupped her cheek, finally smiling, though it was a hesitant, faint thing. Not the broad grins she'd seen over the last few days. "This is one thing I cannot offer you."

She frowned. "What? What are you talking about?"

He stepped a little closer, and her breath hitched as she brought up her hands to rest against his chest. He still cradled her cheek in one hand, but now he brushed the hand through her hair, and goosebumps erupted down her skin at the sensation. "Of all the treasures in my kingdom," he said. "Of all the wonders of magic I can show you and all the places we might go, this is a human moment. This spontaneity of camaraderie and community. You might not find that in the Underground."

"Oh," Sarah breathed.

He pulled away from her touch, looking away.

She stopped him with a hand on the arm, his skin searing through the thin linen of his shirt. "I—Jareth, you come from the Underground. And I'm glad you're here. That we know one another."

He hesitated before he moved closer to her once more, accepting her reassurance. His eyes searched her face, and what he found there must have meant something for he said, "I will do my best to bring this kind of joy into your life every day, my Sarah." He reached for her, but she caught his hand, slipping off his glove. The smile he flashed her was satisfied in a way she had never seen before. His bare fingertips touched her face, and heat sizzled at the contact. "There has never been anything so beautiful as your eyes when you turned to look at me out there," he whispered, closing the distance between them even further. "I don't think I've ever seen you this happy."

Sarah's breath caught as his fingers scraped against her scalp and gently pulled her hair so her head tilted up toward him, like a flower to the sun. "The part you play in that happiness is not small," she whispered back. "I hope you know."

His eyes flashed with something akin to triumph, and for a half a heartbeat, she almost pulled back, her pulse picking up. That look had screamed, predator!, but it was soon smoothed over by such a vulnerable, hopeful expression that she hesitated in her flight. "Do you mean it?" He asked.

"Yes," she said, the word seeming to tumble from her lips, to spill forth. There was a minute tug on her hair as his grip tightened. "Kiss me, Jareth," she said. "Please."

He did, an undisguised look of wonderment flaring before desire took its place. He pressed lips to hers, teasing her mouth open with little nibbles and brushes of his tongue. She made an unabashed sound of pleasure when he began to taste her, and then she was working at the buttons of his shirt, spreading her hands over his tight stomach.

Jareth growled, and Sarah felt arousal flare deep within her, eclipsing all other thoughts. She wanted this. More of this. Nothing outside the feel of him seemed to matter, so when he pushed her back onto her oak desk she did not startle or resist. She used the moment their contact broke to divest him of his shirt entirely, her eyes flying down his exposed chest. A flush spread across her face, and she reached for him again, dragging his head down to hers.

"Gods," she said on a breath between kisses, while his teeth grazed the sensitive flesh of her neck. "Jareth—"

Jareth had removed his other glove at some point, and his fingers were like brands as he lifted her shirt up over her head. Her bra followed a moment more, a soft snarl the only remark at its passing. Nudging her legs apart, Jareth sank to his knees before her, fingers on the band of her yoga pants.

"Woah," she said, still breathing hard, her heart thundering. "What are you doing?"

In response, Jareth turned his head and pressed his lips to her inner thigh, caressing the other side of her leg while he massaged and teased at the area, which grew sensitive to his attentions. She started squirming, and he stopped, pulling back. "Take three guesses, precious." His smile was beautiful. "I want to taste you. All of you."

Her breathing seemed to stop, and for a long moment, Sarah felt as though she had been struck upside the head. The Goblin King? Down there? The thought of it made pleasant sensations ripple through her, and when his hands went back to the band of her pants, she lifted her butt off the desk to help him.

But as his hands began to slide the fabric down her hips, there was a break in the piano music from overhead. Someone was pounding on the door so loud it shook the walls, making one of her framed pictures go askew. Sarah jumped, and Jareth swore, releasing her and rising as someone shouted, "Police! Open the door!"

"Oh, hell," Sarah said, scooping her discarded shirt off the floor and pulling it on over her head without bothering with the bra. It's not too noticeable, she thought in a mild panic. Her heart was going overtime, stimulated not only by her desire but now fear and trepidation. "Coming!" She yelled toward her front door, sliding past Jareth.

Sarah looked through the window on her door before unlocking the chain and the deadbolt, swinging it open. "Officer Salamanca," she greeted with what she hoped was a pleasant smile. "How can I help you?"

Rico Salamanca touched the tip of his finger to his cap in greeting. "Ms. Williams. The station received a very distressed call by someone claiming to be your father, a Mr. Robert Williams. He was saying you were in danger from some kind of stalker, and that he couldn't reach you."

God damn it, dad, Sarah thought savagely. Chewing out the Goblin King is one thing, but falsifying a police report trying and get him arrested is low, especially for a lawyer who knows the risks. She had to handle this carefully. Mad as she was with her father, she did not want to get him in trouble.

"My phone's been acting up," Sarah said, smiling. "Sometimes it works fine, and when it does, they tell me they had a tough time getting through." She shrugged. "It's probably because so many people are spending time on the phones right now, what with everything going on."

"Of course, ma'am," Officer Salamanca said. "I only remembered you called us on the first night of the quarantine with some concerns of your own regarding a man in this domicile. When your address showed up on our system, I wanted to make sure I was the one to follow up. Is he still here?"

Sarah glanced over her shoulder and saw Jareth silhouetted in the doorway between the hall and the living room. "He is, yes, but it's okay."

Rico leaned forward, so he could see Jareth as well, raising a hand to him in greeting. "Good afternoon, sir, how are you?"

"Well, officer," he replied, padding up behind Sarah. He had thrown on his shirt but not buttoned it, and he had glamoured his features to appear more human. "Has there been some disturbance?"

"I'm only following up on a welfare check," Officer Salamanca said, his eyes hardening as he looked Jareth over. "You remember our talk?"

"Oh, quite well."

The police officer's eyes went to Sarah. "You're sure that you're doing okay, miss? Do you still have my card?"

"I do, and I'm sure. My father is being overprotective. I'm so sorry he wasted your time." She gave him a bright smile. "Was there anything else I could help you with?"

"No, ma'am, and I do apologize for banging on the door so hard. I knocked a few times, but there was no response."

Sarah felt her face go hot, and she looked away from Rico's searching gaze. She saw Jareth smirk and wanted to elbow him in the ribs. "It's not a problem. Enjoy the day and stay safe, officer."

He raised his finger to his cap again. "Ma'am."

Sarah shut the door, locking it and turning straight into Jareth's arms.

"Where were we?" He growled, bare hands plunging into her hair and angling her mouth upward for a kiss. In a moment, he had her against the wall, one hand slipping under the hem of her shirt to cup her breast while the other held her head in place.

Sarah was responding in kind when there was an audible crack! And something screeched from the kitchen.

Jareth went still, her bottom lip trapped between his teeth, his thumb and forefinger so tight on her nipple that she gasped and writhed against him. He let out a sound and pulled back from her, looking over his shoulder. "I'm going to kill them."

"Who?" Sarah asked.

"Whoever popped into your apartment," he snarled, starting toward the kitchen, leaving her to scurry after him. They rounded the corner at near the same moment, to plumes of acid-green steam billowing out of some shaking container on the tile floor. It let out another shriek like the one she had heard after the initial noise, and Jareth held out an arm to keep her from moving forward any further. "It's a messenger box. It's from another fae."

"Why is it smoking?"

"It's acclimating. It had to travel through the between places before it got here. Think of it like one of your space shuttles returning into orbit from a lunar mission."

"But you don't smoke when you come here." Sarah pointed out.

"No, but I have a direct line to you, precious." He wiggled the fingers of his left hand. "I will always be able to find you."

She was not sure if the shivers that overcame her at his words were shivers of longing or fear. She took a step back into the hallway. "Well, whatever it is, that is your mess to clean up."

"Yes," he ground out, striding forward. His hand hovered over the box—a perfect square, about four feet across. Crawling across its polished wooden surface were various symbols and what looked like runes. As Sarah watched some flared and brightened, as though inset with little lights, before darkening and continuing to flow across the surface. Where Jareth's hand hovered the symbols burned the most until they were like the glow of a sinking sun. Sarah had to turn her head away, squinting.

Then with a pop that felt like a change in altitude and a strong scent of ozone, the crate opened. All the symbols stopped moving and became carved fixtures, no longer shining. Sarah hesitated for a moment and then moved forward, curiosity compelling her.

At first, she thought the box was empty, and then she saw shining at the very bottom a gilded book, set with what looked like semiprecious stone and the pages edged with even more gold. Jareth reached for it, his motions stiff, his face like granite.

"What is it?" Sarah asked.

"A declaration," he said, and his voice held a hardness she had never heard before. "Someone has declared war on me."

"What?" She strode forward, her hand reaching for him, and he took it, his grip tight. "Who?"

He let her go after giving her a brief squeeze and flipped the little latch that held the book closed. Carefully, reverently, he opened it. Within, on the first page, was something written in a language Sarah had never seen before. The script was spidery but had flourishes like lace. When Jareth looked at it, he went still for a moment, and his mouth widened in a grin. He began to laugh, softly and first and then louder, bending over as he continued to chuckle. He snapped the book closed and waved his hand, making the chest vanish.

"It's my brother. My brother is going to invade the goblin kingdom."

Author Note: Surprise! I just couldn't help it. Today was all about Jareth and Sarah. I'd plotted out this chapter last week but it wouldn't leave my head today. No guarantees that there will be another update in so short a time, but I thought you all would enjoy this.

I hope you all are well!

xoxo,

-CrimsonSympathy