Welcome to a darker-Jareth kidnap fic. For all of those who want Jareth, but know it's morally wrong—what if he had a twin brother? A brother who operated in the morally green…after we get our fill of nefarious, dark Jareth who fulfills all your kidnapping fantasies. Eventual rescue fic.
Prologue
~.*.~ ~.*.~ ~.*.~ ~.*.~ ~.*.~ ~.*.~ ~.*.~
Sarah had never been lucky in love.
However, Sarah had been very lucky in dating. All the boys were very sweet. All the men were quite charming. Really, Sarah had to have been the luckiest lady in the realm of men; all of them had been perfect, respectful gentlemen. All of them had been so nice.
Nice.
But where was the love?
Maybe she'd have been able to answer that question had she ever gotten past date number…well, whatever number "two months" was, Sarah thought to herself. She didn't have a single worst-date-ever, gosh-what-a-creep, turns-out-he-has-a-toe-fetish horror story like many of her friends, but she had never found that "spark." There were no tingles. No jitters. No butterflies. And no magic.
At least, no magic on her dates.
Sarah had become accustomed to what she called "ordinary miracles," but after all these years, she was pretty sure it was just ordinary magic. She wasn't poofing places or turning into a barn owl, mind you. But, she could predict the weather ten out of ten times. Sarah could always tell you where you forgot your keys. She always knew when someone was lying, and her friends often commented on how she could practically read their minds on a bad day and give them a much-needed, spontaneous cup of coffee—made just the way you liked it, without having ever asked. Animals loved her, and her boss had begun to secretly fear her and her freaky sense of knowing how and when to prepare for problems she conveniently predicted.
Love life and work aside, there was one area of her life that functioned perfectly:
Family.
Or at least, sibling-hood. Toby always brought a smile to Sarah's face and made her heart feel light. She missed him, and he always missed her.
At ten years old, he was old enough to go off on his own with his big sis and have some fun. But, he was young enough that he still liked to hear about "that story with the goblins" before bed.
"Tell me again how you and those rocks clobbered all them goblins!" he cried, bouncing on his knees atop Sarah's already pulled-out futon. His Sesame Street footie pajamas had just begun to get tight; the kid was growing like a weed.
"Alright, alright. But you've gotta settle down," Sarah chuckled. Toby scrambled under the covers and pulled a blanket up to his chin.
"So, we had just beaten the contraption called Humungous—of course, the tiny goblin inside was hardly humungous—and crossed into the Goblin City…"
Sarah regaled the climax of her tale. Her little brother, as much as he loved the story, just couldn't keep his eyes open until the end. His eyelids fell shut and he breathed in slow, deep breaths. His chest rose and fell with the tale's final words…
"…you have no power over me," finished Sarah with a gentle smile. She stroked Toby's blond hair for a moment while he slept, taking a mental picture and wishing it could be this way forever. She tiptoed out of her office-slash-guest room, remembering to leave the door cracked and the hall light on.
Tomorrow was the day before her twenty-fifth birthday. Toby had insisted on sleeping over (not that he needed a reason; he was welcome any time in Sarah's home), and her father and Karen were taking them both out the next day to a nice restaurant in order to spend some family time together and celebrate Sarah's quarter-century.
After changing into her pajamas, brushing her teeth, combing her hair, and washing her face, she sleepily made her way to her bedroom. Before she could cross the threshold, something made her stop in her tracks. The little hairs on the back of her neck stood on end and her pulse quickened; what was she sensing? She slowly turned, too afraid to make any sudden movements. She slowly turned…and saw nothing. No spooky shadows catching her peripherals. Nothing mysteriously toppled over. Nada. Zippo. Zilch. So why the odd feeling? Her senses were sending up all the regular signals—nerves, hair standing on end, sweaty palms, racing pulse—that something was there, but…there wasn't.
"Quarter-life crisis," Sarah muttered and ushered herself off to bed.
Outside in the night, a deep, sinister laugh echoed through the darkness. A pair of midnight party-goers would've swore they saw a thick shower of glitter rain down from the sky, if they hadn't been so drunk. They looked at each other and guffawed. One couldn't help but comment on the spooky event.
"Something wicked this way comes."
~.*.~ ~.*.~ ~.*.~ ~.*.~ ~.*.~ ~.*.~
