Chapter Text
It was, Sarah reflected, not that easy to think of a realistic dare that Jareth nonetheless would definitely win and that would allow her to spend time with him. And that was assuming Jareth wouldn’t go for truth, in which case she really didn’t know how to draw a single question out to an actual conversation with an uncooperative Goblin King. However, she didn’t think he would actually go for truth; Jareth seemed much to secretive to be forced to answer impertinent questions truthfully. Besides, if he suspected anything about her real reasons for playing, he would know she didn’t want him to lose immediately and thus her dares wouldn’t be too difficult, which meant he could safely choose dare.
More careful planning, then – or at least, as careful as Sarah Williams, improviseur extraordinaire, could ever manage. When she came home, she quickly changed her summer dress for cargo shorts and a tank top with a flower print. She tied her long hair back, this time more successfully, and went to her kitchen. Opening her fridge she peered in and nonchalantly asked: “Truth or dare, Goblin King?”
“Dare,” came his voice again from behind her. She took out the leftover pasta from last night and a bottle of milk, and turned around.
Jareth was sitting – no, lounging on her kitchen chair, leaning precariously on the back legs of the chair while his feet were propped up on the table. He was toying with a crystal, contact juggling it from one hand to the other. When she turned around, he made it disappear in a small cloud of glitter and smiled insolently.
She put the pasta on the table and unceremoniously pushed off his feet. Annoyingly, the chair remained in exactly the same position, though the swing of his legs should have taken him off balance. Sarah sniffed; she had rather wished he’d fall over, but that was probably too much to hope for with a king who owned a gravity defying room.
“I dare you to beat me at laser tag,” she said matter-of-factly and turned to her kitchen cabinet. “Do you want to join me?” she asked over her shoulder.
“Excuse me?” said Jareth.
She nodded at the pasta. “I want to eat something first.”
He eyed the leftovers. “Is this to do with laser tag?”
She chuckled and took out two plates plus corresponding cutlery. “This is to do with lunch. I want to eat first, I’m starving.” She laid out the table for them both. “Would you like some milk? I’d offer tea, but unfortunately I’m fresh out.”
He looked at her, and she laughed. “I promise I haven’t enchanted it.”
He raised an eyebrow.
She sighed. “Here, do you want to taste first? I have no idea what you usually eat, but I’m not a bad cook.” She put some pasta on his plate and shoved it towards him. “It’s cold, but I actually like it better that way.” Deciding she didn’t want to wait any longer, she plopped down on another chair, put a decent sized portion on her own plate and dug in.
For a little while, Jareth watched her eat. It made her pretty self-conscious, but she tried her best to ignore it. She poured herself a glass of milk, and on second thought poured him one as well. He took the glass, and after a moment’s consideration, he twirled his hand and a crystal appeared. He rapped the crystal sharply against the edge of the glass, like an egg, and it broke neatly in half. From it poured a thick, golden fluid – egg yolk? No, honey, she decided when she smelled the sweetness from the other side of the table. He then lifted the glass in his hand, and while he looked at it, it started to steam.
Awesome, said her inner self. “If you wanted hot milk with honey, I could’ve made it for you,” she said out loud.
He looked at her, one eyebrow raised again, lifted the glass to his lips and drank. Her mouth fell open a little. Was it possible to drink sexily? Evidence suggested a wholehearted yes. His head was tilted backwards as he swallowed and the pose showed off the lean, strong muscles of his neck and chest extraordinarily well. With a blink and a headshake, she focused on her pasta again.
“So tell me, Sarah. Are you often in the habit of offering meals to your …antagonists?” he asked, and elegantly took a bite of said meal.
Sarah chuckled. “Surprisingly enough, I don’t have that many antagonists.”
Jareth smirked. “That is surprising. Not even your stepmother?”
Sarah shrugged her shoulders. “Nah.”
“…what happened?”
“I grew up, Goblin King. Moved out, too. Makes a hell of a lot of difference,” she explained, while finishing the last of her lunch. “I can see now that she makes my father happy, that she’s a good mom to Toby – hell, she’s a good mom to me. Calls me every week, tries to clean my apartment the minute she walks through that door, gives unwanted relationship advice, takes me shopping and buys me dresses…” Aware that she was babbling, she gestured to his plate. “Do you want some more?”
“No, thank you, Sarah,” he said, his eyes strangely bright.
“Your loss,” she quipped, and dragged the dish with the last bits of pasta towards her. Finishing the leftovers quickly, she emptied her glass, pushed her chair back and stood up to put the dishes in the sink. Jareth kept on watching her, which really wasn’t what she had in mind. She wanted to watch him, that was the whole point of this set up. Washing her hands quickly, she turned around and hopped onto the counter.
“What about you?” she asked.
He smirked again. “I am in the habit of offering food to my antagonists, as you well know.”
She flushed a little, the ballroom dream still so clear in her mind’s eye. She didn’t know what embarrassed her more, though – the fact that it was such a pubescent dream, the fact that he’d been there to witness it, or the fact that she couldn’t properly get angry over his manipulations because she was still a hormonal piece of work and his proximity influenced her too much.
“I meant the antagonists,” she said with an annoyed wave of her hand.
“Like you, I do not have as many as I did once,” he said. She couldn’t read the expression on his face, so she opted for admiring its sharp, clean lines and flawless skin. God, he was pretty.
“No runners?” she asked, although she knew full well her friends would have told her if there had been.
He deigned her no reply, but instead stood up with a flourish and held out his hand to her in a half-bow. “Shall we go to this laser tag?”
She eyed him thoughtfully. “Are you sure you’re clothed right for an adventure aboveground?”
He lifted an eyebrow. “Why, Sarah, thinking about my clothes again?”
She fought down the blush caused by innumerable daydreams about his clothes, or more specifically what lay under them. “Wouldn’t want you to attract unnecessary attention,” she said, as airily as she could manage.
He smirked. “Am I to gather you do not like other… people’s… attention on me?”
God, his low, rumbling voice was positively sinful. “I do, as long as their attention comes in the form of a hammer,” she sniffed. “Or possibly a riding crop.”
Shit, Sarah, wrong choice of words again. His grin turned wolfish – in the literal sense. His canines were pointed and sharp, and longer than a human’s. She swallowed. That probably shouldn’t turn her on as much as it did.
“Sarah, Sarah, Sarah,” he singsonged. “It does appear as if you’ve given my attire a lot of thought, these past years.”
Denial wasn’t going to help her here anymore. The only possible safe way out would be exaggeration. “Well, yeah,” she snorted. “What with you looking like the bastard love child of a medieval knight and a rock star, prancing around me at a very impressionable age, it’s a miracle I haven’t made more fashion mistakes as a teen. I’ve certainly overdone my share of leggings, and I’m not even going to get into the leather thing.”
He stepped closer to her. “What leather thing?” he asked, his dark voice curling around her, his eyes amused.
“Let’s go play laser tag,” Sarah said quickly and hopped off the counter, grabbed her keys and headed out the door, followed by his mocking laugh.