Categories > Movies > Labyrinth > 3,564 Clappers Later
Flora and Merriweather Duke it Out
0 reviewshilarious temper-tantrum, suspicious co-workers, plans to bamboozle best friend
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Chapter #14 - Flora and Merriweather Duke it Out
Sarah knew that what they were doing here was important, vital even, but it was beginning to wear on her nerves how the other person involved seemed to only think of his side of the situation and nothing else at times. It had been a trying day at work and the last thing she wanted to deal with was this but Jareth was in one of his moods again and going to a late movie had not helped; he had nearly burned himself on the metal parts of the seats and had started bitching and moaning about not having his magic again on the way home. Sarah was doing her best to keep cool as she let them back into her apartment but she new he was starting to get to her.
“Do you have any idea how awkward it is for me to be atr-” He had nearly said it but he quickly covered. “It would be as if you locked yourself out of your apartment without your bag: you could survive without it for a little while but you would be severely limited in what you could do. You would be itching to have it returned to you constantly.”
“Oh, so I’m just an accessory now, how wonderful.”
He gritted his teeth, fighting to keep from getting angry. “Sarah, don’t put words into my mouth, I didn’t say that!”
“Well, what am I supposed to think?! You’re being so cryptic!”
He could feel his self-control slipping as his passion and frustration increased. “I am not being cryptic, I am being as plain and simple as possible but it obviously isn’t simple enough because you’re only hu-” He looked shocked; the words immediately died in his throat with his acute embarrassment. He couldn’t even look her in the eye. Sarah was livid.
“Say it.”
“No.”
“Say it,” she ground out.
He looked at her, aghast. “‘Because you’re only human.’ Damn, it slipped. I didn’t mean it, Sarah, I was just so frustrated that-”
“No,” she said firmly, getting up, shaking her head, “I think you do.” And to think that I was beginning to have feelings for him; what an asshole. She wasn’t going to cry, she was going to leave the room with her heart and her dignity intact. She shoved in her chair without another word and walked halfway down the hallway before the idea hit her. Now was the perfect time. He deserved it with every last little stuck-up fiber of his over-pressed, over-primped prissy body.
Jareth felt the sudden zap of magic and instinctively looked up: his crazy blonde mane - his trademark - was now baby pink! He heard a distinctively theatrical sigh of relief emanate from the hall. He fingered a strand in distaste, eying it.
“Very amusing, Sarah, now turn it back,” he said dryly.
“Goodnight, Jareth,” she called back tauntingly.
“Sarah…”
The door to her room clicked closed. Her anger may have been justifiable but the taunt felt more like an insult to his pride. She didn’t realize that who she was toying with had years of tricks up his sleeve and she had just asked for one.
***
11:39 p.m. Sarah suddenly awoke in a sweat, grasping the mattress, panting. What a dream! She hadn’t had an erotic dream like that since she was a teenager. It had been so disorienting; she hadn’t even seen who it was, almost as if it didn’t even matter! It was just so… It was then that she saw the silhouetted fountain mullet at the foot of her bed. She reached up quickly and flicked on the light on her nightstand: Jareth had his head propped on top of his folded arms, looking at her.
“Rough night?” he asked her in faux sympathy.
“OUT!” She threw a pillow at him as he cackled with uproarious laughter.
“Finders keepers,” he said, picking it up and giving it a very judicious sniff, his eyes flicking back to her. “You know what’ll keep me out.”
“Better locks and iron walls maybe.”
“Sarah…” He sounded tired.
“Fine! However it normally is and extra sparkly!” His hair immediately paled back to a light gold but he was doused in glitter; he stood, spluttering, shaking it out.
“You know I don’t really use glitter.”
“Tell that to the backseat of my car.”
“Goodnight, darling,” he teased, walking backwards to the door.
“And don’t call me that!”
He snickered, closing it behind him.
Pervert, she rolled her eyes with a little headshake, turning back off the light. But it turns into a mohawk at 4:00 a.m. Sharp, she smirked, snuggling back into the covers.
***
4:00 a.m. Jareth was suddenly jerked awake. It felt exactly as if someone had pulled his hair - hard. And then he remembered. Sarah. What did she do now? He reached up and felt that his hair had become a long row of vertical spikes on top of his head. Hard as a rock. This has gone on quite long enough, he sighed. He sat up and flashed an odd hand gesture at her room and lay back down, trying to ignore the strange feeling enough to go back to sleep.
***
6:03 a.m. “JARETH!” Sarah stormed into the living room in a bathrobe with her head in a towel. “What the hell did you do?!”
He was sitting at the dining room table with a cup of tea and a bagel, the mohawk standing in all its glory. “Since you were taking such joy in playing with my hair I thought I might have a go with yours,” he replied genially, taking a sip of tea.
“It turned into the mother of all dreadlocks the moment I washed out the conditioner! I can’t even get my fingers in let alone through!”
“Ah, yes, timing is what makes that one fun,” he smiled.
“Undo it.”
“Ladies first.”
Sarah closed her eyes; she was fighting the urge to kill him. A moment later his hair fell back into its normal shape. He shook his head and ran his fingers through it in obvious relief.
“Bring me your hairbrush.”
She gawked. “What?!”
“It’s easier to put that in than it is to take out. It isn’t all that bad, really, but you certainly couldn’t do it on your own.”
“No kidding; I’d have to cut it all off,” she said, going to the bathroom to retrieve it.
“Even if you shaved your head it would grow back that way,” he called to her. She reappeared at the end of the hallway.
“Sheesh, vindictive aren‘t we.”
“I don’t believe in screwing around, Sarah.”
“And yet you believe in screwing with-”
He put up a hand to silence her. She looked as if she were about ready to cry. He sighed.
“Sarah,” he said gently, “come here.” She stood still. “While your anger last night was completely justifiable, we need to be able to talk through these things as adults. I realize that I am not perfect and sometimes I slip into very old habits. It isn’t easy overcoming centuries’ worth of prejudice; it certainly does not happen overnight. My parents raised us all with it as a normal mindset. Our society still runs on it to a certain degree with a loose caste system with nothing to uphold it but common misconception. Believe it or not I actually am trying but for as many as I have dealt with I have never known a human intimately before. I’ve certainly made an extensive study of the species with what resources I had - anatomy, behavioral patterns, history - but it is an entirely different experience to know…” He knit his eyebrows and shook his head, looking away. He glanced back at her, uncertain. His eyes were full of questioning, almost pleading with her. ‘Can we make this work?’ they seemed to be asking her. But he was considering it on many different levels. Seriously. They had been dancing around the issue for ages but there it was, spilled out between them like an oil slick on the ocean. They really were different species. Similar in many surprising aspects but nonetheless alien to one another, citizens of completely different universes.
Can he even feel the way I do? Sarah thought with a sinking feeling. Ugh, this is almost too weird. She didn’t answer right away and when she did it was very measured. “I will try to be patient with you as long as you continue trying…” She suddenly knit her eyebrows with a look of disgust. “You didn’t even say you’re sorry and you have me apologizing to you!”
“Alright, I’m sorry, now just give me the damn brush!”
She roughly thrust it bristle-side down into his palm and turned away with a sulk. Jareth forced himself to breathe. The woman still had a fiery temper and if they weren’t going to kill one another they were both going to need to learn a little respect.
Looks like I’m going to have to lead by example here, he thought flatly. “If you would be so kind as to sit sideways on the couch; I don’t want to ruin your dining room furniture by getting it wet.”
Sarah did her best to ignore the mocking elegance in his sudden change in demeanor. They both walked to the living room. Once she had gotten comfortable he knelt behind her and unwrapped the damp towel from around her hair. His handiwork was abominable and he was doing his best not to laugh at it; it was all tied up in horrific knots and sticking out at ridiculous angles besides being completely matted together! Starting at the top, he began effortlessly straightening it from roots to ends in long, steady strokes.
“You and I are like fire and brimstone,” he smiled grimly, “and I need to remember that so I don’t needlessly ignite you.”
She conceded, nodding slightly. “I wasn’t the only one acting childish, though,” she added quietly.
“Did I ever say you were?”
She finally surrendered half a smirk.
“Enough of this nonsense. What were your plans today?”
“Well…the new test prototype is just about complete. I think we’re going to run it around the track and see how it does.”
“That’s good. Are you and Irina still working together on this?”
“Yeah, we’ve been trying to make the frame of the car lighter without making it a piece of junk so that it takes less power to run. We still have to keep in mind the safety of the occupants if they were ever in a crash.”
“Yes, that would be of high importance, would it not?”
“You bet it is,” she smiled with a touch of pride. “Cardboard cars are only something people used to get away with making in eastern Europe and Russia.”
“Where Irina is from?”
Sarah sobered and gave a sigh. "Where Irina is from has thankfully stabilized for the most part but when she was there the communist government literally collapsed and no one really knew for certain what was going to happen. She was eighteen, the border had just opened for the first time in decades and she was ready for a clean break."
"Is that why she left? Because it was unsafe?"
"I don't know the whole story. We both agreed we don't want to talk much about our pasts but from the little I've managed to get out of her, I think her family life was a lot worse than mine and she didn't feel that she had much of a future where she was, and with everything that was going on..." Sarah shrugged, "it was just time to go, know what I mean?"
Jareth nodded solemnly. Which explains why you feel a bond with her, he thought darkly. It is someone that she can secretly empathize with without revealing anything about herself. "Communist…now I know I've heard that word before but I'm not entirely certain what it means."
“How far are you in your world history book?”
“The Napoleonic Wars - quite an exciting period of time, but things are beginning to look bad for the Emperor.”
Sarah smirked. “Well, skip ahead to 1900 and read until the end of the book and then go back to 1776.”
“Yes, Miss Williams,” he teased. “Almost finished.” Her long, lustrous locks were lying obediently flat and untangled as they should but he wasn’t about to take any chances. He put down the hair brush on the coffee table. “Now, if you would just tilt your head forward ever-so-slightly…”
“What are you-” To Sarah’s surprise, Jareth began braiding her hair, but what kind of braid she couldn’t begin to imagine. He was going quite fast for the difficulty: weaving, looping, crossing over, adding more strands from over here, pulling through, she couldn’t even keep track of the movements! But she could tell that there was a rhythm to it; a pattern. He was pulling it quite tight to her head.
“Tell me if I’m pulling too hard.”
“Jareth, I thought we were done with this argument!”
“This has nothing to do with an argument. Most of the magic is out now but a trace remains - it is impossible to remove completely but it will wear out on it’s own as the day progresses. Do you want your hair to spontaneously spring into knots again with absolutely no warning at work?”
“Of course not!”
“Then I have to do this to make sure it can’t move. You can take it down tomorrow morning.”
“What are you making back there anyway?”
“You’ll see,” he smiled. The plait was coming along nicely; her thick, straight hair was easy to work with. Not to mention how wonderfully silky the soft weight of it felt in his hands. It was a guilty pleasure being able to just play with it like this and he was almost ruing that it would all be over in seconds. He conjured a small black ribbon and secured the end. “There. All finished. You can get up now.”
Sarah immediately pulled the end over so she could see it and her eyes just about popped out of her sockets: it was an extremely elaborate Celtic knot! She whipped back to look at him in surprised delight. His knowing, self-satisfied smirk and crossed arms said it all.
“Go on, look in the mirror.”
She ran to the bathroom and grabbed the smaller hand mirror from the cabinet, turning her back to the one above the sink so she could get a better look. The thing was an incredible runner with at least seven major strands, like the border design of a page, culminating in a seemingly endless quad knot at the top.
How am I ever going to explain this one to my coworkers? she thought absently. By human standards, it was impossible. But he had done it. It all felt like her hair. There were no tricks. It was real. She came back out, not quite sure what to say. Thanks would usually be in order but it was just to keep a spell that he was responsible for from acting up some more. But talent like that just couldn’t be ignored, either. He was still sitting on the couch, looking up at her with expectant, bright eyes.
“Well? Will it do?”
“Where did you ever learn to do this?”
He just shrugged. “Just random knowledge. Those kinds of designs are a part of my heritage. When you see certain ones long enough you figure out how they work. Although it is easier working backwards…” He reached back to his own unruly pile of hair.
“I knew it!” she laughed.
“Knew what?”
“That you like primping!”
He sighed. “More so when I was younger. But yes, guilty as charged,” he gave her a sexy little pout. “I can think of worse things to be convicted of than having a refined sense of taste.” She went back to her room to change with a smirk.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The Nikola Motors project had been annoying in general but it paled in the face of the incessant comments and compliments and questions Sarah’s hair received that day. It was unnerving having to openly lie to everyone she knew. At last when Irina asked her about the braid she couldn’t stand it and finally leaked the truth. Well, mostly the truth anyway. They were outside on the porch having lunch, out of earshot of anyone else.
“Irina, do you remember Jeremy?” It was so weird thinking of that as his name, it didn’t fit him at all.
“Yes, why?”
“…he did this.”
She gasped. “No! He didn’t!”
“Really. He did,” she took another bite of her sandwich. The incredulity was wearing on her nerves.
“Is he a stylist, then?”
Sarah smirked. “Yeah, general beautician. I met him in the mall. Used to work in one of those salons, The Venetian, was it?” She waved it off with her hand as if she couldn’t remember. “But with the economy the way it is…well, it’s amazing we still have our jobs.”
Irina nodded. “I am sorry to hear that about him. At least he should not be out of work long - he is very talented. I have never seen such work before. Now, Sarah, this is the first you’ve talked about him since he dropped off those papers for you the day you were sick. I know you’ve been holding out. You know you’ve been holding out. So spill already!” she teased. “Are you two going out?”
“What? Oh no. No, no, no, no,” Sarah laughed nervously, looking down, “ I don’t think so.”
“Why not? He seems nice. He has great taste,” she shoved her playfully, “he is handsome…wait,” she hushed her tone, leaning in close. “Is he a fairy? Is that why you two are just friends?”
Sarah paled in sudden panic and then she realized that there was no way on God’s green earth that Irina could possibly know. The change in her demeanor was immediate and obvious.
“Somebody walk on your grave? Are you all right?”
“I’m fine,” she shook it off, “I was just thinking of something else. No, I’m pretty sure he’s straight. Although sometimes I wonder…” she smirked, grabbing a carrot stick.
“What is it? Mannerisms? Comments?”
“Makeup.”
“Makeup?”
Sarah gulped. If she ever saw him by accident, it had to be okay. “Eye shadow.”
“I see,” Irina smiled, idly twirling her straw in her drink. “Afraid he is prettier than you?”
“Shut up!” Sarah laughed.
“That’s it,” Irina nodded. “Do I get to meet him again or are you stashing him somewhere?”
Actually yes, he’s been hiding out in my apartment for weeks because he’s afraid psychics will figure out what he is - yes, what - and capture his sparkly ass and drag him off who-knows-where to do their nefarious bidding. Besides the whole Goblin King needing me thing. Yeah, that’ll fly. “I’ll check when his next free day is, job hunting and all. Maybe we could all do dinner or something. He’s a great cook, too.” Sarah realized what she was saying far too late; the words were already out of her mouth. Oops…
“What? Oh my god, you are hiding him! Afraid of competition so you’re keeping him all to yourself? Why didn’t you tell me?!”
Sarah sighed. “…I thought I’d never hear the end of it. We aren’t doing anything.”
“Oh, Sarah,” she hugged her around the shoulders, “you know I only tease you in fun. I am happy for you. You don’t need to hide from me. Have you told anyone else?”
“No. Because we’re not dating!”
“And yet he is incredibly concerned about you, plays with your hair, cooks your meals, hmmm…I call that…dating! Are you living together yet?”
“Irina!”
“Are you?”
Sarah gave an exasperated sigh. “…he’s in-between apartments, okay?! He has no way of paying rent! It’s just until he can get a place of his own. It’s not what you think, we’re not sleeping together!”
Irina just smiled a secretive little smile.
“Fine, think whatever you like, you’re not going to believe one word that comes out of my mouth. Just don’t spread it around, okay?”
“We have our antisocial workaholic image to maintain. I understand,” Irina said quietly, still smiling. “Just know that you aren’t fooling anyone, especially me. People are going to start noticing that you are actually happy. It is not a bad thing, Sarah, even if he is a little eccentric. So are you. He was not born in America, was he? What is his nationality?”
Sarah seriously thought for a moment. “I actually don’t know.” It was a relief after so many lies to finally tell some truth. “At first I assumed British, then he’s made mention of serious Celtic roots, but he doesn’t have an Irish accent. It’s odd.”
“Not really. They are close enough for that.”
Sarah looked at her watch - lunch hour was just about over. Back to the grind. They both packed up their things off of the table and started walking back toward the building. Irina stopped her.
“Prove me wrong.”
“What?”
“In spite of an incredible amount of evidence pointing to the opposite conclusion, here in America we presume innocence until the party in question is proven guilty. Let me see you two together and you can make your case then.”
Sarah felt guilty for keeping Irina in the dark about this but she just hadn’t known if it would be safe to tell her anything. Like always. She wanted to help, she wanted to be a real friend and meet the guy that Sarah had been hanging out with on the sly to see what was really going on between them. If the shoe was on the other foot, Sarah probably would be doing the exact same thing. Seriously, what harm was there in staging a meeting? Provided that his pride would endure the history that she had just created for him on the fly, she was sure that Jareth could perform his way through another encounter with Irina. The first one had obviously left a good impression. She would have to talk to him about the situation to see what his thoughts were on the matter, but she had a feeling he would not be entirely adverse to the idea (if for no other reason than it had been ages since he had bamboozled someone and the perverse idea of willing practice would no doubt appeal to him). Besides, Irina didn’t have second-sight. It was safe.
“I’ll have to talk to him to see when a good time would be.”
“Would not any time be good? He is currently looking for a job, no?”
“Oh, yeah,” Sarah covered a bit nervously. Irina looked at her sidelong.
“Are you sure everything is alright? You are acting strangely.”
“Irina, you’re interrogating me!” she laughed as they walked into the building. “Of course it’s stressful!”
“Fine, then, have it your way. But I expect an answer and soon.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
When Sarah got home, Jareth was seated at the computer, typing furiously. He had been so engrossed in what he was doing that he almost hadn’t registered that she had come back. He quickly shut everything down. Sarah flopped down into the recliner.
“J, we need to talk,” she sighed, sounding exhausted.
He turned around to face her. “What happened?”
“Out-of-the-blue Irina just started grilling me about you. I had to make up a history for you and everything on the fly but I’m not sure how much of it she believes. She wants to meet you again just to see what’s really going on.” She took a deep breath before continuing. “I know she’s just concerned about me because I’m being so cagey about this but the problem is she thinks that we are…dating.”
“Dating?”
Sarah winced, putting a hand over her eyes. “Courting.”
His eyebrows shot up in momentary surprise but a slow smile spread across his face as they relaxed again. “Now whatever did you tell her that gave her that impression?” he asked amusedly.
“All I did was tell her some of the things we’ve been doing together. She thinks I’m in denial or something and I can’t change her mind.” She gave a sigh of exasperation. “I mean, what are we supposed to do?”
Jareth crossed his arms behind his head and leaned back into the couch. “Well, since she is your friend I suppose a charade is it order. How would you wish to go about it? I would be fairly comfortable playing it either way.”
“…I don’t know…”
“Friends,” he said a bit tersely.
“But would she believe it?”
“And therein lies the rub,” he smiled. His voice had taken on a strange sarcasm momentarily and Sarah wasn’t sure why. “To be perfectly honest, we would probably be better off just playing along with her misconceptions. People are always more ready to believe what they already wish to be true.”
It sounded to Sarah like a horrible thing to say but no doubt he was right. “I know you’re probably right but I just can’t get past having to lie this much to someone I care about; it goes against everything I believe in.”
“Would you prefer for me to magically change her mind so she doesn’t want to meet me?”
“No!”
“Then your only alternative is to lie; you cannot tell her the truth. She must believe me human or our entire cover is at risk of being blown!” he said simply. “We can still keep to certain facts if you like. I hardly believe there is anything shameful in liking New Age music, is there?”
Sarah laughed. “As long as it isn’t Muzak.”
“What?”
“Just trust me on this one; you’re much happier not knowing. Blandest music on earth.”
“I see.”
“So…we need to start coming up with a story.”
“I thought you already made one.”
“It’s shaky at best. I made up something about you being an unemployed beautician. I’m sure you can embellish it a lot better than I can.”
His eyebrows raised. “My Sarah, was that a compliment?”
“I don’t know, it was just the first thing that popped into my head. I guess I just figured it would explain your sense of style if your job was worrying about what people looked like.”
He thought for a moment. “What if we settle for a compromise?”
“On what?”
“Let’s tell her that we are friends and I shall most assuredly act the part, but I pull her aside at a moment when you are not present and tell her I’m trying to get up the nerve to ask to…date you? That is the correct word?”
Sarah swallowed, uneasy. “Yes.”
“I explain that you are…no, not a cold fish but a very easily frightened one and I didn’t want to scare you away so I was trying to take it slowly and let you get used to me. Trying to prove myself worthy of more than your friendship by being eager and demonstrative in my caring for you and trying to help in any way possible.” He was looking into her eyes in earnest now. “What if it isn’t entirely a story, Sarah?” he asked quietly. Sarah was so surprised that she couldn’t quite find her voice for a moment and had to look away to try to compose herself, blinking. She was floored. She had absolutely no idea of what to say to him. The more she hurriedly thought about it, the more things certainly seemed that way.
Oh my god…he is falling for me! “…how is that even possible? We’re not even the same species…” she whispered finally.
“Yes, but she doesn’t know that, now does she?” he smiled. Sarah turned to look at him. She honestly couldn’t tell where the joke ended and the seriousness began. And she wasn’t entirely sure she wanted to chase it to see how far it went either way.
People will believe what they wish to be true. True indeed, but very odd. “That will be fine,” she finally said, managing to make her voice sound normal again.
“Good. I’ll just start fabricating a history then. Oh, dinner’s in the fridge, I already ate my meal,” he said, going back to the computer and booting up the internet again, taking his seat. Sarah got up and went to the kitchen, opening up the door to the refrigerator to see what he had left her. There was a covered microwavable plate on the second shelf as usual. She took it out and peeked under the lid. He rarely made the same thing twice. Tonight’s delicacy looked like some sort of chopped game poultry with a citrus glaze - grapefruit maybe - with a nut and vegetable pilaf underneath. Even cold it smelled unbelievably delicious. On instinct she looked up and just caught him watching her out of the corner of his eye with a little smile before his gaze flicked back to the screen.
Sarah knew that what they were doing here was important, vital even, but it was beginning to wear on her nerves how the other person involved seemed to only think of his side of the situation and nothing else at times. It had been a trying day at work and the last thing she wanted to deal with was this but Jareth was in one of his moods again and going to a late movie had not helped; he had nearly burned himself on the metal parts of the seats and had started bitching and moaning about not having his magic again on the way home. Sarah was doing her best to keep cool as she let them back into her apartment but she new he was starting to get to her.
“Do you have any idea how awkward it is for me to be atr-” He had nearly said it but he quickly covered. “It would be as if you locked yourself out of your apartment without your bag: you could survive without it for a little while but you would be severely limited in what you could do. You would be itching to have it returned to you constantly.”
“Oh, so I’m just an accessory now, how wonderful.”
He gritted his teeth, fighting to keep from getting angry. “Sarah, don’t put words into my mouth, I didn’t say that!”
“Well, what am I supposed to think?! You’re being so cryptic!”
He could feel his self-control slipping as his passion and frustration increased. “I am not being cryptic, I am being as plain and simple as possible but it obviously isn’t simple enough because you’re only hu-” He looked shocked; the words immediately died in his throat with his acute embarrassment. He couldn’t even look her in the eye. Sarah was livid.
“Say it.”
“No.”
“Say it,” she ground out.
He looked at her, aghast. “‘Because you’re only human.’ Damn, it slipped. I didn’t mean it, Sarah, I was just so frustrated that-”
“No,” she said firmly, getting up, shaking her head, “I think you do.” And to think that I was beginning to have feelings for him; what an asshole. She wasn’t going to cry, she was going to leave the room with her heart and her dignity intact. She shoved in her chair without another word and walked halfway down the hallway before the idea hit her. Now was the perfect time. He deserved it with every last little stuck-up fiber of his over-pressed, over-primped prissy body.
Jareth felt the sudden zap of magic and instinctively looked up: his crazy blonde mane - his trademark - was now baby pink! He heard a distinctively theatrical sigh of relief emanate from the hall. He fingered a strand in distaste, eying it.
“Very amusing, Sarah, now turn it back,” he said dryly.
“Goodnight, Jareth,” she called back tauntingly.
“Sarah…”
The door to her room clicked closed. Her anger may have been justifiable but the taunt felt more like an insult to his pride. She didn’t realize that who she was toying with had years of tricks up his sleeve and she had just asked for one.
***
11:39 p.m. Sarah suddenly awoke in a sweat, grasping the mattress, panting. What a dream! She hadn’t had an erotic dream like that since she was a teenager. It had been so disorienting; she hadn’t even seen who it was, almost as if it didn’t even matter! It was just so… It was then that she saw the silhouetted fountain mullet at the foot of her bed. She reached up quickly and flicked on the light on her nightstand: Jareth had his head propped on top of his folded arms, looking at her.
“Rough night?” he asked her in faux sympathy.
“OUT!” She threw a pillow at him as he cackled with uproarious laughter.
“Finders keepers,” he said, picking it up and giving it a very judicious sniff, his eyes flicking back to her. “You know what’ll keep me out.”
“Better locks and iron walls maybe.”
“Sarah…” He sounded tired.
“Fine! However it normally is and extra sparkly!” His hair immediately paled back to a light gold but he was doused in glitter; he stood, spluttering, shaking it out.
“You know I don’t really use glitter.”
“Tell that to the backseat of my car.”
“Goodnight, darling,” he teased, walking backwards to the door.
“And don’t call me that!”
He snickered, closing it behind him.
Pervert, she rolled her eyes with a little headshake, turning back off the light. But it turns into a mohawk at 4:00 a.m. Sharp, she smirked, snuggling back into the covers.
***
4:00 a.m. Jareth was suddenly jerked awake. It felt exactly as if someone had pulled his hair - hard. And then he remembered. Sarah. What did she do now? He reached up and felt that his hair had become a long row of vertical spikes on top of his head. Hard as a rock. This has gone on quite long enough, he sighed. He sat up and flashed an odd hand gesture at her room and lay back down, trying to ignore the strange feeling enough to go back to sleep.
***
6:03 a.m. “JARETH!” Sarah stormed into the living room in a bathrobe with her head in a towel. “What the hell did you do?!”
He was sitting at the dining room table with a cup of tea and a bagel, the mohawk standing in all its glory. “Since you were taking such joy in playing with my hair I thought I might have a go with yours,” he replied genially, taking a sip of tea.
“It turned into the mother of all dreadlocks the moment I washed out the conditioner! I can’t even get my fingers in let alone through!”
“Ah, yes, timing is what makes that one fun,” he smiled.
“Undo it.”
“Ladies first.”
Sarah closed her eyes; she was fighting the urge to kill him. A moment later his hair fell back into its normal shape. He shook his head and ran his fingers through it in obvious relief.
“Bring me your hairbrush.”
She gawked. “What?!”
“It’s easier to put that in than it is to take out. It isn’t all that bad, really, but you certainly couldn’t do it on your own.”
“No kidding; I’d have to cut it all off,” she said, going to the bathroom to retrieve it.
“Even if you shaved your head it would grow back that way,” he called to her. She reappeared at the end of the hallway.
“Sheesh, vindictive aren‘t we.”
“I don’t believe in screwing around, Sarah.”
“And yet you believe in screwing with-”
He put up a hand to silence her. She looked as if she were about ready to cry. He sighed.
“Sarah,” he said gently, “come here.” She stood still. “While your anger last night was completely justifiable, we need to be able to talk through these things as adults. I realize that I am not perfect and sometimes I slip into very old habits. It isn’t easy overcoming centuries’ worth of prejudice; it certainly does not happen overnight. My parents raised us all with it as a normal mindset. Our society still runs on it to a certain degree with a loose caste system with nothing to uphold it but common misconception. Believe it or not I actually am trying but for as many as I have dealt with I have never known a human intimately before. I’ve certainly made an extensive study of the species with what resources I had - anatomy, behavioral patterns, history - but it is an entirely different experience to know…” He knit his eyebrows and shook his head, looking away. He glanced back at her, uncertain. His eyes were full of questioning, almost pleading with her. ‘Can we make this work?’ they seemed to be asking her. But he was considering it on many different levels. Seriously. They had been dancing around the issue for ages but there it was, spilled out between them like an oil slick on the ocean. They really were different species. Similar in many surprising aspects but nonetheless alien to one another, citizens of completely different universes.
Can he even feel the way I do? Sarah thought with a sinking feeling. Ugh, this is almost too weird. She didn’t answer right away and when she did it was very measured. “I will try to be patient with you as long as you continue trying…” She suddenly knit her eyebrows with a look of disgust. “You didn’t even say you’re sorry and you have me apologizing to you!”
“Alright, I’m sorry, now just give me the damn brush!”
She roughly thrust it bristle-side down into his palm and turned away with a sulk. Jareth forced himself to breathe. The woman still had a fiery temper and if they weren’t going to kill one another they were both going to need to learn a little respect.
Looks like I’m going to have to lead by example here, he thought flatly. “If you would be so kind as to sit sideways on the couch; I don’t want to ruin your dining room furniture by getting it wet.”
Sarah did her best to ignore the mocking elegance in his sudden change in demeanor. They both walked to the living room. Once she had gotten comfortable he knelt behind her and unwrapped the damp towel from around her hair. His handiwork was abominable and he was doing his best not to laugh at it; it was all tied up in horrific knots and sticking out at ridiculous angles besides being completely matted together! Starting at the top, he began effortlessly straightening it from roots to ends in long, steady strokes.
“You and I are like fire and brimstone,” he smiled grimly, “and I need to remember that so I don’t needlessly ignite you.”
She conceded, nodding slightly. “I wasn’t the only one acting childish, though,” she added quietly.
“Did I ever say you were?”
She finally surrendered half a smirk.
“Enough of this nonsense. What were your plans today?”
“Well…the new test prototype is just about complete. I think we’re going to run it around the track and see how it does.”
“That’s good. Are you and Irina still working together on this?”
“Yeah, we’ve been trying to make the frame of the car lighter without making it a piece of junk so that it takes less power to run. We still have to keep in mind the safety of the occupants if they were ever in a crash.”
“Yes, that would be of high importance, would it not?”
“You bet it is,” she smiled with a touch of pride. “Cardboard cars are only something people used to get away with making in eastern Europe and Russia.”
“Where Irina is from?”
Sarah sobered and gave a sigh. "Where Irina is from has thankfully stabilized for the most part but when she was there the communist government literally collapsed and no one really knew for certain what was going to happen. She was eighteen, the border had just opened for the first time in decades and she was ready for a clean break."
"Is that why she left? Because it was unsafe?"
"I don't know the whole story. We both agreed we don't want to talk much about our pasts but from the little I've managed to get out of her, I think her family life was a lot worse than mine and she didn't feel that she had much of a future where she was, and with everything that was going on..." Sarah shrugged, "it was just time to go, know what I mean?"
Jareth nodded solemnly. Which explains why you feel a bond with her, he thought darkly. It is someone that she can secretly empathize with without revealing anything about herself. "Communist…now I know I've heard that word before but I'm not entirely certain what it means."
“How far are you in your world history book?”
“The Napoleonic Wars - quite an exciting period of time, but things are beginning to look bad for the Emperor.”
Sarah smirked. “Well, skip ahead to 1900 and read until the end of the book and then go back to 1776.”
“Yes, Miss Williams,” he teased. “Almost finished.” Her long, lustrous locks were lying obediently flat and untangled as they should but he wasn’t about to take any chances. He put down the hair brush on the coffee table. “Now, if you would just tilt your head forward ever-so-slightly…”
“What are you-” To Sarah’s surprise, Jareth began braiding her hair, but what kind of braid she couldn’t begin to imagine. He was going quite fast for the difficulty: weaving, looping, crossing over, adding more strands from over here, pulling through, she couldn’t even keep track of the movements! But she could tell that there was a rhythm to it; a pattern. He was pulling it quite tight to her head.
“Tell me if I’m pulling too hard.”
“Jareth, I thought we were done with this argument!”
“This has nothing to do with an argument. Most of the magic is out now but a trace remains - it is impossible to remove completely but it will wear out on it’s own as the day progresses. Do you want your hair to spontaneously spring into knots again with absolutely no warning at work?”
“Of course not!”
“Then I have to do this to make sure it can’t move. You can take it down tomorrow morning.”
“What are you making back there anyway?”
“You’ll see,” he smiled. The plait was coming along nicely; her thick, straight hair was easy to work with. Not to mention how wonderfully silky the soft weight of it felt in his hands. It was a guilty pleasure being able to just play with it like this and he was almost ruing that it would all be over in seconds. He conjured a small black ribbon and secured the end. “There. All finished. You can get up now.”
Sarah immediately pulled the end over so she could see it and her eyes just about popped out of her sockets: it was an extremely elaborate Celtic knot! She whipped back to look at him in surprised delight. His knowing, self-satisfied smirk and crossed arms said it all.
“Go on, look in the mirror.”
She ran to the bathroom and grabbed the smaller hand mirror from the cabinet, turning her back to the one above the sink so she could get a better look. The thing was an incredible runner with at least seven major strands, like the border design of a page, culminating in a seemingly endless quad knot at the top.
How am I ever going to explain this one to my coworkers? she thought absently. By human standards, it was impossible. But he had done it. It all felt like her hair. There were no tricks. It was real. She came back out, not quite sure what to say. Thanks would usually be in order but it was just to keep a spell that he was responsible for from acting up some more. But talent like that just couldn’t be ignored, either. He was still sitting on the couch, looking up at her with expectant, bright eyes.
“Well? Will it do?”
“Where did you ever learn to do this?”
He just shrugged. “Just random knowledge. Those kinds of designs are a part of my heritage. When you see certain ones long enough you figure out how they work. Although it is easier working backwards…” He reached back to his own unruly pile of hair.
“I knew it!” she laughed.
“Knew what?”
“That you like primping!”
He sighed. “More so when I was younger. But yes, guilty as charged,” he gave her a sexy little pout. “I can think of worse things to be convicted of than having a refined sense of taste.” She went back to her room to change with a smirk.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The Nikola Motors project had been annoying in general but it paled in the face of the incessant comments and compliments and questions Sarah’s hair received that day. It was unnerving having to openly lie to everyone she knew. At last when Irina asked her about the braid she couldn’t stand it and finally leaked the truth. Well, mostly the truth anyway. They were outside on the porch having lunch, out of earshot of anyone else.
“Irina, do you remember Jeremy?” It was so weird thinking of that as his name, it didn’t fit him at all.
“Yes, why?”
“…he did this.”
She gasped. “No! He didn’t!”
“Really. He did,” she took another bite of her sandwich. The incredulity was wearing on her nerves.
“Is he a stylist, then?”
Sarah smirked. “Yeah, general beautician. I met him in the mall. Used to work in one of those salons, The Venetian, was it?” She waved it off with her hand as if she couldn’t remember. “But with the economy the way it is…well, it’s amazing we still have our jobs.”
Irina nodded. “I am sorry to hear that about him. At least he should not be out of work long - he is very talented. I have never seen such work before. Now, Sarah, this is the first you’ve talked about him since he dropped off those papers for you the day you were sick. I know you’ve been holding out. You know you’ve been holding out. So spill already!” she teased. “Are you two going out?”
“What? Oh no. No, no, no, no,” Sarah laughed nervously, looking down, “ I don’t think so.”
“Why not? He seems nice. He has great taste,” she shoved her playfully, “he is handsome…wait,” she hushed her tone, leaning in close. “Is he a fairy? Is that why you two are just friends?”
Sarah paled in sudden panic and then she realized that there was no way on God’s green earth that Irina could possibly know. The change in her demeanor was immediate and obvious.
“Somebody walk on your grave? Are you all right?”
“I’m fine,” she shook it off, “I was just thinking of something else. No, I’m pretty sure he’s straight. Although sometimes I wonder…” she smirked, grabbing a carrot stick.
“What is it? Mannerisms? Comments?”
“Makeup.”
“Makeup?”
Sarah gulped. If she ever saw him by accident, it had to be okay. “Eye shadow.”
“I see,” Irina smiled, idly twirling her straw in her drink. “Afraid he is prettier than you?”
“Shut up!” Sarah laughed.
“That’s it,” Irina nodded. “Do I get to meet him again or are you stashing him somewhere?”
Actually yes, he’s been hiding out in my apartment for weeks because he’s afraid psychics will figure out what he is - yes, what - and capture his sparkly ass and drag him off who-knows-where to do their nefarious bidding. Besides the whole Goblin King needing me thing. Yeah, that’ll fly. “I’ll check when his next free day is, job hunting and all. Maybe we could all do dinner or something. He’s a great cook, too.” Sarah realized what she was saying far too late; the words were already out of her mouth. Oops…
“What? Oh my god, you are hiding him! Afraid of competition so you’re keeping him all to yourself? Why didn’t you tell me?!”
Sarah sighed. “…I thought I’d never hear the end of it. We aren’t doing anything.”
“Oh, Sarah,” she hugged her around the shoulders, “you know I only tease you in fun. I am happy for you. You don’t need to hide from me. Have you told anyone else?”
“No. Because we’re not dating!”
“And yet he is incredibly concerned about you, plays with your hair, cooks your meals, hmmm…I call that…dating! Are you living together yet?”
“Irina!”
“Are you?”
Sarah gave an exasperated sigh. “…he’s in-between apartments, okay?! He has no way of paying rent! It’s just until he can get a place of his own. It’s not what you think, we’re not sleeping together!”
Irina just smiled a secretive little smile.
“Fine, think whatever you like, you’re not going to believe one word that comes out of my mouth. Just don’t spread it around, okay?”
“We have our antisocial workaholic image to maintain. I understand,” Irina said quietly, still smiling. “Just know that you aren’t fooling anyone, especially me. People are going to start noticing that you are actually happy. It is not a bad thing, Sarah, even if he is a little eccentric. So are you. He was not born in America, was he? What is his nationality?”
Sarah seriously thought for a moment. “I actually don’t know.” It was a relief after so many lies to finally tell some truth. “At first I assumed British, then he’s made mention of serious Celtic roots, but he doesn’t have an Irish accent. It’s odd.”
“Not really. They are close enough for that.”
Sarah looked at her watch - lunch hour was just about over. Back to the grind. They both packed up their things off of the table and started walking back toward the building. Irina stopped her.
“Prove me wrong.”
“What?”
“In spite of an incredible amount of evidence pointing to the opposite conclusion, here in America we presume innocence until the party in question is proven guilty. Let me see you two together and you can make your case then.”
Sarah felt guilty for keeping Irina in the dark about this but she just hadn’t known if it would be safe to tell her anything. Like always. She wanted to help, she wanted to be a real friend and meet the guy that Sarah had been hanging out with on the sly to see what was really going on between them. If the shoe was on the other foot, Sarah probably would be doing the exact same thing. Seriously, what harm was there in staging a meeting? Provided that his pride would endure the history that she had just created for him on the fly, she was sure that Jareth could perform his way through another encounter with Irina. The first one had obviously left a good impression. She would have to talk to him about the situation to see what his thoughts were on the matter, but she had a feeling he would not be entirely adverse to the idea (if for no other reason than it had been ages since he had bamboozled someone and the perverse idea of willing practice would no doubt appeal to him). Besides, Irina didn’t have second-sight. It was safe.
“I’ll have to talk to him to see when a good time would be.”
“Would not any time be good? He is currently looking for a job, no?”
“Oh, yeah,” Sarah covered a bit nervously. Irina looked at her sidelong.
“Are you sure everything is alright? You are acting strangely.”
“Irina, you’re interrogating me!” she laughed as they walked into the building. “Of course it’s stressful!”
“Fine, then, have it your way. But I expect an answer and soon.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
When Sarah got home, Jareth was seated at the computer, typing furiously. He had been so engrossed in what he was doing that he almost hadn’t registered that she had come back. He quickly shut everything down. Sarah flopped down into the recliner.
“J, we need to talk,” she sighed, sounding exhausted.
He turned around to face her. “What happened?”
“Out-of-the-blue Irina just started grilling me about you. I had to make up a history for you and everything on the fly but I’m not sure how much of it she believes. She wants to meet you again just to see what’s really going on.” She took a deep breath before continuing. “I know she’s just concerned about me because I’m being so cagey about this but the problem is she thinks that we are…dating.”
“Dating?”
Sarah winced, putting a hand over her eyes. “Courting.”
His eyebrows shot up in momentary surprise but a slow smile spread across his face as they relaxed again. “Now whatever did you tell her that gave her that impression?” he asked amusedly.
“All I did was tell her some of the things we’ve been doing together. She thinks I’m in denial or something and I can’t change her mind.” She gave a sigh of exasperation. “I mean, what are we supposed to do?”
Jareth crossed his arms behind his head and leaned back into the couch. “Well, since she is your friend I suppose a charade is it order. How would you wish to go about it? I would be fairly comfortable playing it either way.”
“…I don’t know…”
“Friends,” he said a bit tersely.
“But would she believe it?”
“And therein lies the rub,” he smiled. His voice had taken on a strange sarcasm momentarily and Sarah wasn’t sure why. “To be perfectly honest, we would probably be better off just playing along with her misconceptions. People are always more ready to believe what they already wish to be true.”
It sounded to Sarah like a horrible thing to say but no doubt he was right. “I know you’re probably right but I just can’t get past having to lie this much to someone I care about; it goes against everything I believe in.”
“Would you prefer for me to magically change her mind so she doesn’t want to meet me?”
“No!”
“Then your only alternative is to lie; you cannot tell her the truth. She must believe me human or our entire cover is at risk of being blown!” he said simply. “We can still keep to certain facts if you like. I hardly believe there is anything shameful in liking New Age music, is there?”
Sarah laughed. “As long as it isn’t Muzak.”
“What?”
“Just trust me on this one; you’re much happier not knowing. Blandest music on earth.”
“I see.”
“So…we need to start coming up with a story.”
“I thought you already made one.”
“It’s shaky at best. I made up something about you being an unemployed beautician. I’m sure you can embellish it a lot better than I can.”
His eyebrows raised. “My Sarah, was that a compliment?”
“I don’t know, it was just the first thing that popped into my head. I guess I just figured it would explain your sense of style if your job was worrying about what people looked like.”
He thought for a moment. “What if we settle for a compromise?”
“On what?”
“Let’s tell her that we are friends and I shall most assuredly act the part, but I pull her aside at a moment when you are not present and tell her I’m trying to get up the nerve to ask to…date you? That is the correct word?”
Sarah swallowed, uneasy. “Yes.”
“I explain that you are…no, not a cold fish but a very easily frightened one and I didn’t want to scare you away so I was trying to take it slowly and let you get used to me. Trying to prove myself worthy of more than your friendship by being eager and demonstrative in my caring for you and trying to help in any way possible.” He was looking into her eyes in earnest now. “What if it isn’t entirely a story, Sarah?” he asked quietly. Sarah was so surprised that she couldn’t quite find her voice for a moment and had to look away to try to compose herself, blinking. She was floored. She had absolutely no idea of what to say to him. The more she hurriedly thought about it, the more things certainly seemed that way.
Oh my god…he is falling for me! “…how is that even possible? We’re not even the same species…” she whispered finally.
“Yes, but she doesn’t know that, now does she?” he smiled. Sarah turned to look at him. She honestly couldn’t tell where the joke ended and the seriousness began. And she wasn’t entirely sure she wanted to chase it to see how far it went either way.
People will believe what they wish to be true. True indeed, but very odd. “That will be fine,” she finally said, managing to make her voice sound normal again.
“Good. I’ll just start fabricating a history then. Oh, dinner’s in the fridge, I already ate my meal,” he said, going back to the computer and booting up the internet again, taking his seat. Sarah got up and went to the kitchen, opening up the door to the refrigerator to see what he had left her. There was a covered microwavable plate on the second shelf as usual. She took it out and peeked under the lid. He rarely made the same thing twice. Tonight’s delicacy looked like some sort of chopped game poultry with a citrus glaze - grapefruit maybe - with a nut and vegetable pilaf underneath. Even cold it smelled unbelievably delicious. On instinct she looked up and just caught him watching her out of the corner of his eye with a little smile before his gaze flicked back to the screen.
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