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She wasn’t quite sure how it had happened, but it had, nevertheless.
Sarah Williams was currently half-sleep, wearing cookie pajamas, clutching a half-eaten bowl of popcorn, and strapped to a chair.
More specifically, she was strapped to a velvet-lined, plush chair, located in the Castle Beyond the Goblin City, and looking directly into the crotch of the Goblin King.
It was the very last thing she expected to happen to her on a Friday night, alone in her parents’ house, with a sleeping ten year old upstairs. Scowling, Sarah let her gaze rise to Jareth’s face, and met an infuriatingly neutral expression. She then let her eyes dart from the rope holding her, over to the window looking out into the darkened Labyrinth, and back to the Goblin King again.
She sighed.
“Well, never let it be said that you’re predictable, Goblin King.”
He was looking at her with a strangely inscrutable look on his face, one she had never seen him wear before. His fingers were twitching at his sides, and his eyes were bloodshot. He looked unhinged. Nice birdy, were the words that floated across her mind’s eye, followed by a soothing petting motion.
She squinted at him, her eyes attempting to focus in the brazen light, a contrast from the darkness she had left moments before. “Hello? Earth to Jareth?” If she had a hand free, she would have waved it in front of his face. “Are you going to say anything, or should I just assume this is payback for the last time you visited?”
It had been an interesting night. Jareth had only ever visited Sarah a handful of times over the years, and every time he visited, it was strained. Sarah was loathe to trust him, which only exacerbated the fact that he insisted on being a giant pain in the rear. He was constantly shifting between different moods, his favorites being flirty, sullen, mischievous, condescending, and spiteful. If he wasn’t unabashedly taunting her one moment, he was insulting her lifestyle the next. It was due to Jareth’s usual snark that Sarah had not invited him to partake in the dinner she had been cooking. If he had thrown in a ‘please’, she might have considered it. Instead, she had chased him out of her cozy kitchenette with a spatula and a promise to whip him up if he didn’t go away.
He seemed to come alive when she said his name, and shook himself out of his reverie. He ignored her last comment, and his expression turned leering.
“Ah, Sarah. How nice of you to drop in so obligingly.”
There he is, she thought, rolling her eyes.
“I do hope you’re comfortable, Precious,” he said in a most genteel voice. “I’ve provided one of my more comfortable armchairs, you see. Nary a goblin has touched it, I swear on my crown.”
She scoffed. “You’d swear on your mother if you thought it would make me believe a word you say.”
He said nothing to argue the fact, and flashed her a white, crooked grin.
She blinked. It had an effect on her, but she only allowed it for a second before she got back to business.
“Are you going to tell me why you’ve deprived me of the ending to Heathers, or am I supposed to guess?”
He tapped his chin with a black-gloved finger. “The ending of all females named Heather? By all means, guess away. My instincts tell me it will be something cruel. Some sort of rare, indigenous plague. Or perhaps a fungus infestation.”
She breathed deeply in through her nose, trying to reel in her patience. Choose your right words. It was forever the most irritating lesson she had learned in the Labyrinth, because it was the most difficult one to master. “You know what I meant, Bird-Brain.”
He lowered his head, peering at her through thick, blonde eyelashes. He fluttered them demurely. “But all means, precious, it would be my honor to tell you my nefarious scheme. I would not deprive you of your...pleasures for all the stars in the sky.”
She gritted her teeth, trying her damnedest not to let him get a rise out of her. “And yet here you are,” she ground out.
He bowed his head slightly. He sighed, appearing guilt-ridden. Sarah knew he was anything but. “You’ll forgive an old nemesis, won’t you? I simply thought we might have a little tete-a-tete. I was so dreadfully bored, here in the castle, and you’re a slightly better conversationalist than most of my subjects.”
“Gee, thanks,” she said dully, her words flat.
He smiled beatifically. “And seeing as you were all by your lonesome, I thought I would spare you another lonely Friday evening.”
The insult, however much he doused it in glitter, was read loud and clear.
Enough was enough. Her arms were starting to go numb and the pajamas were downright embarrassing. The bastard was probably having the goblins take covert photographs for posterity, and she would rather have her skin exfoliated with a cactus than be ridiculed like this.
“Jareth,” she purred, all sarcastic sweetness, “Tell me why I’m strapped to a chair and I’ll knee you in the crystals.”
Her words gave him pause. “Surely there is supposed to be an ‘or’ in there?”
She shrugged. “Don’t think so.”
“I’m pretty sure the ‘or’ is standard,” he said carefully.
“Doesn’t have to be,” she said, smiling prettily.
He smiled slowly, a tight, caged thing. It was like seeing a tiger at the zoo inside of its’ keep. It was contained, but it still moved like it thought of nothing but the jungle, and hot blood. “Temper, temper,” he tutted, his tongue making smacking noises against the roof of his mouth. “One does not expect such indelicacies from a young lady.”
She leveled a flat gaze at him. “An explanation, Jareth, or I’ll do the can-can.”
He rolled his eyes, looking entirely put out by her insistence. She couldn’t find it within herself to feel bad. He had kidnapped her during the scene in the boiler room. It was her favorite part.
Jareth straightened, his hands clasped behind his back. “I thought we might have a chat.”
“A chat,” she deadpanned.
“Hm, yes,” he replied sagely, nodding, looking at the ceiling. “You see, there a couple of things we’ve yet to hammer out. A few i’s to dot, as it were.”
“And you thought it best that we discuss this at two in the morning?” She was having a difficult time keeping the hysteria out of her voice. If Jareth noticed, he didn’t say anything.
“These matters are not to be put off, Sarah,” he said, wagging his finger in her direction. She wanted to bite it off. “But before we start...Ah me, but where are my manners?” He conjured up a platter of various fruits and delicacies, as well as a decanter of water and a few glasses. He gestured to them. “Would you care for anything?”
Her dark, silent stare was her only answer.
“No?” he said, a barely-repressed smirk teasing at his mouth.
Insufferable bastard. He really was a complete and total cad.
It didn’t help that she really was thirsty. All that movie popcorn without even the smallest sip of a drink had swelled her tongue right up. She hated him for it, but she very dearly wished for water.
She licked her lips involuntarily, and his eyes darted instantly to the direction of her mouth.
Interesting, Sarah thought.
“Thirsty, love?” he said quietly, his stare hard on her mouth.
She wanted to refute, wanted to cling to what mediocre pride she had, but what would be the point? Traveling between planes had made her throat dry as a desert, and she felt light-headed. Let him think of her what he would. She nodded.
“Allow me, then,” was his response, just as quiet, just as gentle. He poured water into one of the goblets and came towards her. Their eyes met, attraction igniting between them. He tilted her chin up with his fingers, guiding the cup to her mouth. He was ever gentle, as if he were holding a small bird in his hand .
“There’s a patient lass,” he whispered, wiping away a stray droplet from the corner of her mouth with a single finger.
Sarah would have fallen over right there had she not been sitting. The shock of his gentle touch shot right down to her sock-covered feet. She was hyper-aware of him in that moment. Every strand of hair, every movement of his eyes, every breath he took. She was mesmerized, and knew it, but was somehow less irked by knowing Jareth was equally, if not more, entranced.
Feeling daring, Sarah let her tongue dart out to taste the spot where Jareth’s leather glove had made contact with her mouth. He made a hoarse, breathless sound low in his throat, and backed away hastily, as if her nearness was having a preternaturally dangerous affect on him. Jareth turned his back on her, becoming very quiet, and very still. In short, very un-Jareth-like.
Sarah felt breathless herself. Which was ridiculous! What was she doing, flirting with the Goblin King? She had to be out of her mind! After all, he was mercurial. Or, at best, moody. He could be seducing her one moment, and the next decide to dump her into the bog. He couldn’t be trusted.
For his part, Jareth seemed to be collecting himself. There was something strangely thrilling about knowing that she had an effect on the Goblin King. That is, of course, unless it was all for show. Somehow, she didn’t think so. This was a man who cared about control, but he cared about his pride more. He wouldn’t let her think he was brought down by her. Not by any means.
Finding her tongue, Sarah brought the conversation back to safe ground. “About that chat…?” she said by way of an opener.
He turned back to her. Something flashed through his eyes abruptly. If it was gratitude for her topic change, it was too fleeting for her to be certain.
“Ah yes.” With a short wave of his hand, a plush armchair appeared, facing her. He sauntered over and down into it, crossing his legs and looking far more comfortable than was necessary. She gritted her teeth. She gave a marked look down at her uncomfortable position, at the ropes that remained around her person, but he ignored her hints.
“During your little traipse through my Labyrinth-”
“You mean, when I was fighting for my brother’s and my life?”
He looked at her pointedly, a clear, yet silent, “Don’t interrupt, little girl,” message thrown in her direction.
“Your journey, shall we say, wrought some unexpected collateral damage to my kingdom. The Goblin city, for example-”
“Was damaged because of your shoddy army!” Sarah said hotly.
His brow furrowed. “A side effect of your tenacity,” he argued back.
She would have thrown her arms up if they were free. “They were completely inept! I didn’t do a thing except try to get to the castle!”
“They were only doing their jobs. In short, stop you. Ergo, you are cause of the damage,” he replied smartly.
“That is completely illogical reasoning-”
“You have no regard for anyone aside from yourself-”
“-complete, and total bullshit, Jareth-”
“-irresponsible, childish-”
“-are you seriously calling me a child-!?”
“...still taking things for granted.”
She stopped her tirade, though anger was coursing hotly through her veins, and looked at him carefully for a moment. He seemed angry, just as angry as she was, but beneath the anger there was something else. If she was brave, she would almost say it was...joy? The thought hit her like a sack of bricks. And with that thought, came a dead end of a realization. He hadn’t brought her here because of any real gripe he had. He wasn’t looking for some kind of recompense. He was…
He was…
Was he...flirting with her?
Sarah’s jaw dropped open.
“Wait a second,” Sarah said, leaning forward, eyes going wide. “This isn’t about the damage to the city, is it?”
Jareth looked down, adjusting his gloves. She noticed that he refused to meet her eyes.
“You didn’t bring me here to bitch me out about the so-called ‘damage’ I caused. You brought me here because you wanted me to come. Because you wanted to see me.”
He was looking everywhere but at her. Her eyes widened further.
“I see,” she murmured, her tone coloring with knowledge. Jareth’s eyes shot up to hers, flashing.
“I’d be quite careful, little girl,” he said quietly. “You do not know with whom you deal.”
“Oh, I think I know, alright,” Sarah shot back, squirming in her restraints once again. “I’ve danced with you before, remember? And I won that round.”
He looked like he was about to retort with something scathing, but after a moment, he visibly relaxed. Leaning back in his seat, he crossed his arms over his chest, observing her thoughtfully.
“You know,” he began, giving her a cursory once-over, “You look rather fetching tied up, Sarah.” He smiled widely, his canines in clear view.
“Oh, I know.” She swallowed whatever reservations she had, and plowed onward. “I’ve been told so before.”
Sarah had the distinct impression of hearing a growl before he was on top of her, his hands braced on either side of the chair. His face mere inches away. His eyes were entirely white, his pupils tiny and dark with fury.
“Have you had many paramours then, Sarah?” His voice was barely recognizable. His words were razor-sharp, enough so to etch glass.
She tried to draw her head back, but was unsuccessful. His breath was coming in hot and fast on her face, his mouth entirely too close to hers. It was distracting. It was dangerous.
“None of your business,” she said through ground teeth.
His chest was heaving, as was hers. They were both angry. Sarah didn’t think that he had any right to be - she was the one strapped to his chair! - but she knew she wouldn’t get out of this situation by antagonizing him. He only seemed to gain confidence from her posturing. She had to defuse the bomb.
Rather than making the first move, Jareth decided to, and after a few more agonizing moments of staring into her eyes, he backed off. He gave her his back, rubbing a hand over his face. He seemed to be making a valiant effort to control himself. Sarah tried to do the same. She took several deep breaths, actively attempting to keep her eyes on the back of his head, and not on other savory parts of his form.
Focus, Sarah! Eyes up!
When Jareth turned back around, he was the picture of serenity. He gave no indication that the last exchange had happened at all. But he gave her some space.
“Alright, Your Royal Foofiness, what will it take?” Sarah said with vigor. “A rematch? An exchange of goods? What? I don’t have all night you know, and Toby’s all by himself.”
At the mention of Toby, interest returned to Jareth’s eyes. Sarah felt panic swell within her, and promptly amended what she had said.
“But Toby’s off limits,” she said hastily. “Do whatever you want with me, but leave him alone.”
“Sarah, Sarah, Sarah,” he said indolently, his tongue lazing around her name in a sinful way. “So quick to offer yourself up on an alter. Not that I complain,” he added, almost sneering.
“Oh, enough with the leering, and the perviness already, sheesh,” she said, rolling her eyes. “Can we get this out of the way? I need to go home.”
Jareth rolled his eyes, mirroring her, and with a sweeping of his hand, the ropes were gone. Sarah leaned forward in relief, flexing her hands and stretching out her arms. Freedom never felt so good.
“What’s the price?” she said doubtfully, giving the king a wary glance.
He shrugged. “Call it an act of good will.”
She didn’t trust that. Perhaps he didn’t want to further piss her off, but maybe he just had another trick up his sleeve. He was slippery.
“Just like that?”
“Just like that,” he agreed. “Although…” he started, considering her.
“I knew it,” she muttered, leaning back in her seat. “Lay it on me, GK. What is it?”
“Nothing so nerfarious,” he said with a smile. “I was only considering that...maybe...you would not object to my calling on you again.”
She wanted to let her jaw drop. His moods were giving her whiplash. Now he was politely asking to date her? Now?! She could have smacked him.
She very badly wanted to say no, but something in the polite way in which he asked gave her pause. All of this certainly did feel like a rodeo show. A lot of noise just to conceal a basic truth: that he fancied her. Well, she did have to give the man some credit. He had gone to some extreme lengths to prove his interest. Maybe she’d give him a shot.
Sarah scoffed a little. “That’s all?” He looked way too hopeful, so she threw up a hand to halt him. “Yes, okay? Fine. But! You have to let me know before just dropping in whenever you please, Jareth! Magic isn’t exactly acceptable in my world, okay? No one knows about you, and I’d like to keep it that way for now.”
“Very well,” he said, the picture of a gentleman. He held out a hand for her to shake.
She looked at it in suspicion. “No tricks, right?”
He put his other hand over his chest. “No tricks,” he said solemnly.
Knowing she’d regret it, but doing it all the same, Sarah gave him her hand to shake. He dragged her up and towards him, and she gave a little yelp. He snaked a hand around her waist, pulling her tightly to him. He was warm, and hard, and her breath was completely extinguished.
“Hey! Jareth-!”
“Until then, Precious,” he said languidly, and pulled her into him again for a hot, seering kiss, full on the mouth. She was pliant, and accommodating, and had just remembered to fight him off when he deposited her back in her house, the ending credits of Heathers rolling.
She sighed. “Why couldn’t my stalker have been a nice, normal psychopath?”