Author's Note: Hello! Please enjoy a probable two shot as I edit the final chapter of The Office is for Work. I'm sorry to those who have been waiting; I just can't get it the way I want it and I refuse to slap together an ending ever again.
Ding. Ding.
"I'll be right with you," announced Jareth Kingston, setting his bookmark in his latest read. The Adventures of the Lost Goblin was the latest publication to catch his attention and he had been making the most of the lazy Tuesday afternoon by devouring its' pages. His flower shop hadn't had a single customer after lunch. Most had come in for last minute Christmas flowers and it had become mercifully silent. At least until the bell over the door rang, announcing someone's arrival.
"Take your time," said a lilting voice. He looked up and removed his spectacles, his eyes widening. Long black hair pulled out from under a large hideous orange scarf that contrasted with her neutral cream sweater dress. The dress neared her own skin tone besides her red lips, thick black lashes, and the greenest eyes he'd ever seen. They remind me of ivy...
He gulped and coughed, shakily raising his cup of lukewarm tea to his mouth. It was rude to stare and he knew better than to do such an ungentlemanly thing.
The woman was smelling a couple of roses in a vase, her eyes turning to the shy man at the register.
Sarah had come in on a whim; she shouldn't have left her coat in her car, but hadn't expected the weather to take such a turn. But on the corner of a cobblestone alley stood Labyrinth, a quaint flower shop that had been there for ages. Her mother was fond of their arrangements, and ordered for most major holidays and birthdays at their home.
Well, not anymore due to their divorce. Just the very thought of the shrieking when Sarah had decided to stay at the Marriott instead of with either family made her shudder in despair.
The whole thing had been a major headache and Sarah felt another one brewing as she thought of the whole mess. Sighing and rubbing her temple, she braced herself to exit into the cold once again when she heard the man cough.
He was quite a looker, blonde hair laid down with gel and a flip. He wore a deep blue suit, though his jacket was off and hanging on the rack by the door. His pin striped shirt was topped off with a bowtie and suspenders in a dark brown. He was hunched over his book on a rickety stool behind the counter and was sipping away from a porcelain tea cup. "Apologies, miss. I didn't mean to disturb your browsing."
"Sarah works just fine, please," she replied, smiling. "I didn't catch your name, sir."
"Oh, please you don't need the formalities. I'm Jareth," he set down his tea and straightened up. "I'm the new proprietor of this establishment."
"I heard it had transferred hands recently; my mother said Mr. Kingston was retiring. He's been running this place a long time."
Laughing uncomfortably, the tall man rubbed the back of his neck nervously. "Yes, Father can be quite stubborn sometimes. But now he's resting on a beach somewhere warm and I'm here watching over the orchids."
"Well, I'm glad you are. I was trying to find a place to hide from that storm but almost every store was closed by now. You saved me from freezing over," Sarah said, grateful. She didn't miss the way his cheeks turned a bright pink.
"I wasn't going to open today but it's tradition to open on Christmas Day," Jareth mused. He looked down at his now cold tea and then back up to the beautiful woman. Sarah was by the front door, looking hesitantly at the raging snow storm outside. He noticed the melting snow on her shoulders, cleared his throat, and her sparkling eyes met his. "Would you like a cup of tea? I've been told I make a great milk peach tea."
One look at the hopeful mismatched eyes of the man and Sarah's smile grew larger as she nodded. "I'd love one, thank you."
Labyrinth had a back parlor with all of their exotic plants and most expensive tea. The circular room was a bright yellow, filled with antiques and dark brown sofas. The carpets were lush and Persian, their striking patterns warmed by the heat of the nearby fireplace. Family portraits of willowy, long haired Kingstons throughout the years were both hanging, and Sarah picked up a gold framed one of a familiar looking boy in a bowtie and suspenders. Unlike his neat appearance now, the boy's hair was a wily mess of spikes that went well with his toothy grin.
"I'm afraid my style hasn't changed much since I was a child," Jareth jokes, setting down the tray with the teapot and cups.
"I was thinking this hair suits you better," Sarah contemplated. "There's something wild about it."
Jareth snorted as he poured the steaming tea into a porcelain cup. "Yes, my mother agreed and soon my hair was slathered in with every gel known to man. But she could never get the one strand that falls into my face. My father would tell her that the fairies come at night and style it into place, that's why it would never stay down."
Sarah laughed as she sat down in the ridiculously comfy chair right by the fire. The brisk air outside had left her too cold to care about propriety as she basked in the warmth. How she wished she were home so she could kick off her shoes and sink her toes into the plush rug underneath the chair. Jareth handed her the cup and plate, blowing gently on it before allowing it to sit in Sarah's hands. She smiles and shakes her head, "I'm not a child."
"No, but I am a gentleman, and I can't allow a lady's hands to be scalded."
He sat across from her, his own cup looking comparatively tiny in his gloved hands. When had she first notice his long, nimble fingers? A pianist's hands, her stepmother would have raved. Did he play? Sarah felt her heart pound as she watched him sip the tea and stare into the crackling fire. His features were almost too handsome, almost too sharp. He reminded her of the villain from long ago tales, the one who became stuck watching over goblins and a long since abandoned maze.
Sarah shook her head of those thoughts, sipping her tea. What was she thinking? This man was being beyond kind to her on Christmas of all days and here she was comparing him to fairy tale villains. "So, what did you do before you took over the flower shop, Jareth?"
Perhaps by instinct, she had crossed her ankles and tilted them, balancing the teacup plate on her thighs. The motion had drawn his eyes down to her legs and he flushed bright red. How unseeming. He reached behind him and grabbed a fleece blanket off of the ladder by the bookcase. "I was a museum curator in London," he answered, watching her wrap herself completely in the plaid fleece. "My specialty was prehistoric Europe."
She was dwarfed by the oversized chair he had favored when he was the age in the picture she so fondly smiled at. That and the blanket made her look as delicate as the teacup in her hands. Her dark, almost black hair was draped across her back, the thick pearl headband the only thing keeping it from falling into her expressive eyes. "Museum curator? That's amazing! Why give it up to run a flower shop?"
Jareth winced. Sarah gasped and covered her mouth. "I'm so sorry! That was insulting, I didn't mean-"
"It's alright. I get it a lot. My sister Octavia was to take over but she recently married and moved away so the shop fell into my hands. I've been approached by people interested in buying, but I quite like it here. The town, the people, all the wonderful flowers I get to have in my possession," he answered, setting the tea down. "It's not how I pictured my life going, but it's where it's supposed to be."
Sipping the creamy tea, Sarah tried not to squirm in her seat. Great, good job Sarah. Now he's gonna think you're such an asshole. "I'm really sorry..."
"What about you, Sarah? What brings you out on this cold Christmas day?"
Biting her lip, she sighed and leaned her head back against the chair cushion. She opened her eyes and looked away from the flower patterned ceiling back to the man's curious eyes. "Well, I was shopping for a baby."
Blink. Blink. Those mismatched eyes covertly looked down at her stomach and then back up to her, arching an eyebrow.
"Oh, no! I'm not-! It's for my half brother!" She blurted, setting down the empty teacup. She could feel her face heating up as Jareth tried unsuccessfully to cover up his laughter with a muffled, "I see."
"I ordered Toby's present online but then the delivery service said it wouldn't arrive until after Christmas so I frantically left to go find something so that he'd have at least one present from me. And then my flight got in late this morning and I've barely managed to get to my dad's before Karen decided to needlessly complain that I was late, and how could I interrupt brunch with her friends and I just needed to get out of there!
"Because God forbid that a 24 year old gets a hotel room instead of being yanked like laffy-taffy by her parents! But I didn't think of the weather and my coat's in my car and now I'm going to be late for an awkward dinner between my mother, my father, and his new wife and baby!"
"...That would certainly bring me out in a storm."
"Oh, shoot, I'm just making a big old mess of this, aren't I? First I insult you, then I accidentally make you think I'm pregnant, and now you probably think I'm a lunatic with a crazy Maury worthy family!"
"You apologized for insulting me," Jareth pointed out, not disagreeing with her points.
Feeling the heat rise along her neck, Sarah decided she'd embarrassed herself in front of the handsome man enough. Standing, she laughed uncomfortably and said, "Well, I've taken up too much of your time, Mr. Kingston and I'm really sorry about that but I should leave so you can close up. It's Christmas after all and you didn't exactly plan to spend your Christmas with some stranger."
"What? No, you don't have to go. I was going to stay open for a couple more hours anyway," Jared lied smoothly, rising with her. "And, please call me Jareth."
"No, really, I should get going. I'll just get him some baby food," Sarah replied weakly, tossing the hastily folded blanket into the man's arms.
"You could stay." Jareth held out his hand and she took it instinctively, feeling the heat from his fingers even through the leather gloves. "I didn't mean to embarrass you, Sarah."
"But...don't you have anyone waiting on you?"
Jareth let out a shaky breath. "It's just myself this year. My mother is visiting with Octavia and I am...well, someone had to watch the orchids."
"Why don't you come with me?" Sarah blurted out. She pulled her eyes away from that strand on his forehead when he was quiet for too long. A blush covered her cheeks and she tucked a piece of hair behind her ear. "I-I mean, isn't that part of the Christmas spirit?"
A smile curled on his lips. "I would love to, Sarah."
