The King's Fall. Sarah's Last Case. The Necklace.
In the dark of night, the castle at the center of the Labyrinth, beyond the Goblin City, always looked like a pale bone against the sky. The tallest spire, that shot straight up into the heaven's themselves, became something of a beacon in the middle of the moonless Sky. Dark storm clouds rolled heavy and pendulous overhead. Sheet lightning played across the undulating clouds, though the ground remained dry and rainless.
Jareth sat, looking across his kingdom, from the window at the peak of his tallest spire. One leg curled beneath him, and the other draped languidly along the side of his castle, moving back and forth in the cool wind. Had he been anyone else the sheer height would have been terrifying.
Clashing metal resonated through the night, and Jareth rose to walk back within his castle. His thick-heeled boots echoing against the masonry walls, and across the wood planked floor. He paused at the inlet of the winding staircase, watching as torchlight began to jump and dance following voices of the advancing armies.
Narrowing his eyes, Jareth spread his arms and a great sheet of magic protected his stronghold from the oncoming enemy. His forces had been defeated, his castle taken, and shortly they would surmount enough energy to break his spell and take the great Goblin King prisoner, within his own kingdom. Jareth trembled, and moved hastily to the farthest edge of the small and nearly empty room.
Here it was, the only method of escape. It was the final chance to save the magic from the dark lord's clutches. Distance had to be placed between himself and the enemy, less ruination fall to the whole of the Underground. Already the Royal Court had announced casualities that numbered in the tens of thousands, and their ruling parties were nothing more than prisoners of war to the tyrant that stormed the lands- unrelenting.
The thought firm in his mind, Jareth widened his arms to take flight as his traveling form, the white owl. "I wouldn't attempt the escape, Jareth, your already too late," the voice hissed from behind him. The Goblin King lowered his arms and turned, to face the cold and calculated glare offered to him by the darkly swathed Prince.
"Damien," Jareth stated calmly, walking towards his adversary with lengthy and only slightly hesitant steps. "How nice of you to drop in, and the entourage preceding you was quite the pleasure." He grinned and then stopped, as Damien himself chuckled deep laughter.
"I would have expected more from you, Jareth. But then you grow weak in your old age," he responded, and slowly uncovered his gloved hands. Behind him, Jareth noticed several armed gaurds, brandishing thick metal weapons, that stung the air with their whetted edges. Damien gestured for them to come forward, as they did obediently. "Give me the crystal, Jareth."
"You have no idea the power your demanding," the King spat out. Damien's eyes danced, but he made no attempt to prove his point, the soldiers carried out that aspect of the conquest. Jareth watched them come, both sides flanked by two straight-faced guards. Their swords and shields held out, at arms length, betrayed their fear directed towards the Goblin King. His infamous name known far and wide in the Underground, had made the slender man standing at length seem nothing short of a disappointment. "It will destroy you, Damien. A sorcerer cannot hope to contain it, even immortals have failed."
"Are you referring to yourself?" Damien stepped out, between his guards and stopped their progress towards the King with a brief gesture of his hand. He came upon Jareth, separated from him by a foot, if not less, and then stared into the Goblin King's churning and sparking eyes. "I see no powerful King before me, but an old man." Damien's hand snaked out and he grabbed the silver chain, strung around Jareth's neck. "But then, I can't chance your meddling in my plans."
With a snap, the sorcerer turned and his guards came on, rushing in at the King before he had a chance to react. They drove him back, and Jareth, unable to work his magics, found himself floundering out of the window, at which he had sat only moments earlier. But then his legs were caught, and Damien's face appeared above him. "Do you know what an immortal is without his magic, Jareth?" the darker man questioned.
"I will see you dead!" Jareth cried out, ignoring his perilous situation.
Damien just cocked his head to one side and then, producing one slender dagger, drove into Jareth's thigh. The King reared his head back, and lost his brief hold on the ledge. The next instant he was falling through space, and plummeting to the ground below. Damien, raising his eyebrows in shock as he turned to take the steep staircase back to the ground level, chuckled again to himself. "An immortal without his magic," at this he paused and held the crystal, which had been strung along the chain around Jareth's neck, up to eye level, "...is mortal."
* * * * *
The day always started the same. A shrill alarm clock bleating into the warm silence of the early morning, followed by the inevitable struggle from bed and shuffling into the cold tiled bathroom. Then, yawning in front of the mirror, the next step was to the shower and twisting the handles so that the small room filled with dense steam. After the shower it was on to wardrobe, hair, make-up (courtesy of Mabelline), and rushing out the door with a breakfast cereal bar and enough change to grab a quick cup of coffee from "Java Express" down the street.
It was dull, boring, life in a rut, but at least it was dependable. Something Sarah could rely on. There was little more left that continued on tirelessly at such perfect regularity day after day. On that particular morning she reached out with one slender hand and felt along the top of her dresser for her alarm clock- somehow it was out of reach.
Sarah lifted herself up, yawning and scratching her back as she arched it into a delicious stretch. Gazing to her left, she noted the clock, not far, but not where she had left it the night before. "Strange," she mused, guiding it back to the corner of her dresser as she silenced the mechanical beeping.
On the other side of the room her Cell phone erupted into a chorus of something classical. At that point in the morning Sarah couldn't decipher one song from the other if she wanted. She stumbled out of bed, succeeded in banging her knee against her wooden trunk, and then swore the rest of the way to her phone- still charging from it's overnight siesta. "Hello?" Sarah inquired, sounding less than pleased and by far removed from her usual chipper self.
"Sarah, hon, we've got a problem," came the startling response. She rubbed her eyes with the heel of her hand, blinking the sleep away. The dawning sun was sending tendrils of daylight through her blinds, and Sarah walked over to them to slide the little slats open. Cars were already blaring along the streets, amidst billows of mist from manholes.
"You know I'm not on for another hour Deb." The blinds closed again and Sarah padded towards the bathroom. She paused to look at her image in the mirror, ran a hand through her hair and then turned to sit on the toilet. The silence on the other line prompted her to continue: "What is it?"
Relief in the form of a sigh followed on the other side of the flip-cover phone. "Something with the Quintly Case..."
"God, what now?" she inquired.
Another long pause followed. Deb cleared her throat and then, breathing out, muttered: "You know I wouldn't call you if it hadn't been of the utmost importance. Not at this hour." This was a preparation for something awful, Sarah could sense it. She knew even before the words flew out of Deb's mouth the next instant. Something had disrupted her morning schedule. The day was off balance.
"Uh-huh."
"It's on most the channels." Sarah crossed to the other side of the room to snap on her little television set. The first image, which had replaced her usual early morning news hour and talk show, was that of her worst nightmares. She dropped the phone, and didn't move to retrieve it, even when Deb continued talking to her absent boss. Instead, bending down, she glared at the TV and shook her head.
"Great," she muttered, snapping it off. At this she did notice the phone, but was beyond the point of needing more information. What she needed then was a new client, and perhaps a new line of work completely. "Just goddamn great!"
She rushed herself into the bathroom, cranked the hot water up as high as it would go in her shower, and then tumbled in before her anger got the best of her. On the dresser the clock had suffered from some sort of power failure. It's digital face boasted red flashing numbers: 13 o'clock.
* * * * *
The workplace was anything but calm when she entered. She was met with a bustle of paperwork, shoved into her awaiting arms, and two paralegals who were overanxious to brief her on the most recent development behind the Quintly case fiasco. As well as she could handle, Sarah dealt with the information, until she found her office door and floundered inside before being buried in the formalities.
"Why me?" she inquired, pressing her back against the slick wooden door she had used to separate her own quiet workspace from the chaos beyond it. However, it was only a matter of time before she had to face the inescapable. The folders fell upon her desk, out of her overburdened arms, as Sarah drooped into her chair.
The intercom buzzed and Sarah lifted her eyes towards the black phone sitting ominously on her desk. "Have you dealt with it?" the voice drifted into her space, prompting Sarah to sit straight in her chair and lean in closer for her response.
"What do you expect me to do, Mr. Peterson?" her question came out a bit too sarcastic and Sarah could, again, sense the trouble surrounding the day. "I-I mean, he succeeded in going through a high speed chase during the morning traffic and nearly killed...."
"Do you think I care about that?!" Sarah tried to interject, but was abruptly cut off. "You get your client under control, Ms. Williams, or we'll be seriously reconsidering that partnership offer." The news settled against her, diffusing around like a bad omen cloud that hung overhead. Sarah breathed deep and bit her tongue to refrain from jeopardizing her probable promotion. "Do we have an understanding?"
She smothered a sweet smile over her lips and directed her eyes through the glass wall on the left of her office towards the balding man across the hall. He was watching her closely, bent over his own phone. "Of course." She raised a hand towards the boss and then leant back in the chair so as to be out of sight.
The entire case had been a mistake from the start. One problem after another eventually culminated into the day's disaster. And through it all Sarah could see the proverbial carrot strung just barely out of her reach: partnership. The goal that lingered in the back of her mind through her trials in court, and any number of hard fought victories. For a girl who had done nothing but dream her life's profession had been something of a surprise.
"I need a vacation," she whispered to herself, flipping open her briefcase. However, before she had a chance to get to work on the latest problems regarding her client, Sarah noticed a little package tucked against one fold of the rich leather. Her smile returned and she fished the present out, turning it over in her hand as she shook her head with a laugh. "Jake."
It was small, petite, and swathed in a pale pink bow that was, nearly, larger than the box itself. Sarah lifted her eyes again, looking into the hall for signs of her boyfriend, but saw, again, only the frantic faces of her paralegals flustering themselves over paperwork and phone calls. He was nowhere to be seen.
Bright blue eyes, handsome face, charming smile- Sarah's prince charming. The man she would marry, or so she had told herself a thousand times over during their long courtship. But then he had been the only serious relationship in her long run of short romances and brief dating histories. Length itself made her commitment to Jake that much more special.
Taking hesitation aside, Sarah pulled open the box's top. It was jewelry, and beautiful, but not what she had been hoping for. Her spirits slightly withered from the sight and Sarah took the delicate silver chain into her hand so that she could see the necklace in the light from her lamps. "Guess I'll have to wait for the ring to match it," she thought aloud.
Despite her making light of the situation, something weighted heavy in Sarah's gut when she spun the necklace between her two fingers. The little shiny bauble that dangled from the end of one long piece of corkscrewed silver filament, (which also wrapped around the circumference of the aforementioned trinket), was strikingly familiar. And, if she had to describe it, Sarah found herself immediately thinking...
*I've brought you a gift*
...a crystal.
But that was her adolescence talking, a time that was, *thank god*, long past her. Some fifteen years past. She shivered at the thought of age and the sheer magnitude of time and miles and growing up that separated her from her past. Proving that she was beyond superstition, Sarah strung the necklace around her slender neck and clasped it on the first attempt. It bounced against her collarbones when she got up, making it that much more difficult to imagine that it was something only...
ONLY!!
...related to her boyfriend. He had seen it, thought of her, bought it, and now it was looped over her neck and sparkling in the sunshine that struck its spherical body. Sarah opened her office door to meet the onslaught of questions.
She listened briefly, but only long enough to remember that she'd forgotten to feed her meter downstairs. "Ruby," Sarah interjected, laying her hands on the young paralegal's stiff shoulders. The girl's eyes widened as she nodded energetically. "Contact Mr. Quintly right away and let him know that he's not to answer anything until I have a word with him."
Fishing through her pockets for change, Sarah grabbed hold of the younger girl's arm before letting her leave. "And please make sure that he realized that this will be his last opportunity for making an Ass out of both himself and me." Sarah smiled sweetly and raised her eyebrows once to emphasize the importance of her message. The girl, Ruby, nodded again and managed a brief goodbye as she gathered together her things to leave.
Sarah was already out the door. Immediately the tension in the air lessoned and, by the time she was in the elevator and passing through the eleventh floor- on the way down to the tenth- she could imagine that the day had the chance of turning around. Then the little crystal on the end of her necklace slid against her skin, and the goose bumps that followed only further assured her that there would probably be no way to remedy the already destroyed morning.
Further proof came when she rounded the corner to her car and noticed the yellow ticket flapping in the chilled breeze, positioned right below her windshield wiper. "Why did I bother to wake up?" Passer- bys exchanged a short glance her way, met with Sarah's icy glare when she ripped the parking violation from her windshield and jammed enough money into the meter to last her through the day and most of the night.
"Your really very beautiful when your angry," a voice stated from behind her. Sarah turned, relieved to find no more surprises, other than the pleasant one offered by her lover, who had appeared suddenly on her side of town. "Did I ever tell you that before?"
"No," she answered gently, sashaying her way into his arms. Sarah tilted her head up and kissed him, watching his blue eyes sparkle.
"Well, now I have." He returned her kiss and then slid his hands along the small of her back. "So, what luck to find you down here. I hate trenching my way through the hordes of there." Jake gestured towards the middle of the high-rise, from where Sarah had just come. She giggled briefly, laying her head against his shoulder.
"Luck has nothing to do with this day."
Jake just squeezed her tighter and then, draping his arm around her waist, turned her around to walk away from the office. Sarah stopped him, mid-stride, and then, with a depleted sigh, separated herself from his warmth. "Can't play hooky today?" he asked, turning the corners of his mouth down in a pleading expression that tugged at Sarah's heart enough to only further make her love the boy.
But she had to turn him down, less lose her prime opportunity up at the Law Offices of blah blah blah. "Nope," she stated plainly, jerking her hands into the pockets of her slacks. "Listen, I have a load of work to get done today, and I'm probably gonna be home pretty late."
"You know what, that's fine," he stated, hindering her from further explaining the reason for her bad day and extended work hours. Jake stepped forward, kissed her gently and then swung her hand in his for a moment. "You just get back to me sometime tonight and I'll be happy."
Sarah could only smile as she moved away from him, back to the hustle and bustle of the office. She had quite the mess to clean up, over the course of the day. "Sarah!" he called as she walked away, and she turned to look over her shoulder towards him. "I like the necklace."
He was out of sight before Sarah could determine if he had intended the compliment as a joke- reflecting his good taste on choosing the gift... or if he had never seen it before. She shivered again, clutching her arms around her torso and then entered back through the double glass doors, which led into the great belly of the office building. Mirrored windows sparkled around her, and she caught her reflection in one before catching an elevator that was, very nearly, packed full of business people sipping cofee and sharing in small talk.
Somehow she felt, pressed against the corner and between two large men with sweat standing out on their brows, that Jake wasn't being witty when he commented on the necklace. She touched it again as she pushed her way through the crowd to get off on her floor, and then promptly forced the worried thoughts out of her mind. But then, it seemed strange that she should be wearing a present, left in her briefcase of all places, that had not been offered to her by her boyfriend.
She spent another few minutes in her office, gathering papers and folders before she left again for the subway and towards the holding facility where Mr. Quintly had been detained since the chase. Nodding briefly to Mr. Peterson, on the phone and pacing in his office, Sarah made her hasty retreat back into something that resembled calm rationality.
But unease wouldn't leave her, and she found herself checking over her shoulder during the entire trip downtown.
In the dark of night, the castle at the center of the Labyrinth, beyond the Goblin City, always looked like a pale bone against the sky. The tallest spire, that shot straight up into the heaven's themselves, became something of a beacon in the middle of the moonless Sky. Dark storm clouds rolled heavy and pendulous overhead. Sheet lightning played across the undulating clouds, though the ground remained dry and rainless.
Jareth sat, looking across his kingdom, from the window at the peak of his tallest spire. One leg curled beneath him, and the other draped languidly along the side of his castle, moving back and forth in the cool wind. Had he been anyone else the sheer height would have been terrifying.
Clashing metal resonated through the night, and Jareth rose to walk back within his castle. His thick-heeled boots echoing against the masonry walls, and across the wood planked floor. He paused at the inlet of the winding staircase, watching as torchlight began to jump and dance following voices of the advancing armies.
Narrowing his eyes, Jareth spread his arms and a great sheet of magic protected his stronghold from the oncoming enemy. His forces had been defeated, his castle taken, and shortly they would surmount enough energy to break his spell and take the great Goblin King prisoner, within his own kingdom. Jareth trembled, and moved hastily to the farthest edge of the small and nearly empty room.
Here it was, the only method of escape. It was the final chance to save the magic from the dark lord's clutches. Distance had to be placed between himself and the enemy, less ruination fall to the whole of the Underground. Already the Royal Court had announced casualities that numbered in the tens of thousands, and their ruling parties were nothing more than prisoners of war to the tyrant that stormed the lands- unrelenting.
The thought firm in his mind, Jareth widened his arms to take flight as his traveling form, the white owl. "I wouldn't attempt the escape, Jareth, your already too late," the voice hissed from behind him. The Goblin King lowered his arms and turned, to face the cold and calculated glare offered to him by the darkly swathed Prince.
"Damien," Jareth stated calmly, walking towards his adversary with lengthy and only slightly hesitant steps. "How nice of you to drop in, and the entourage preceding you was quite the pleasure." He grinned and then stopped, as Damien himself chuckled deep laughter.
"I would have expected more from you, Jareth. But then you grow weak in your old age," he responded, and slowly uncovered his gloved hands. Behind him, Jareth noticed several armed gaurds, brandishing thick metal weapons, that stung the air with their whetted edges. Damien gestured for them to come forward, as they did obediently. "Give me the crystal, Jareth."
"You have no idea the power your demanding," the King spat out. Damien's eyes danced, but he made no attempt to prove his point, the soldiers carried out that aspect of the conquest. Jareth watched them come, both sides flanked by two straight-faced guards. Their swords and shields held out, at arms length, betrayed their fear directed towards the Goblin King. His infamous name known far and wide in the Underground, had made the slender man standing at length seem nothing short of a disappointment. "It will destroy you, Damien. A sorcerer cannot hope to contain it, even immortals have failed."
"Are you referring to yourself?" Damien stepped out, between his guards and stopped their progress towards the King with a brief gesture of his hand. He came upon Jareth, separated from him by a foot, if not less, and then stared into the Goblin King's churning and sparking eyes. "I see no powerful King before me, but an old man." Damien's hand snaked out and he grabbed the silver chain, strung around Jareth's neck. "But then, I can't chance your meddling in my plans."
With a snap, the sorcerer turned and his guards came on, rushing in at the King before he had a chance to react. They drove him back, and Jareth, unable to work his magics, found himself floundering out of the window, at which he had sat only moments earlier. But then his legs were caught, and Damien's face appeared above him. "Do you know what an immortal is without his magic, Jareth?" the darker man questioned.
"I will see you dead!" Jareth cried out, ignoring his perilous situation.
Damien just cocked his head to one side and then, producing one slender dagger, drove into Jareth's thigh. The King reared his head back, and lost his brief hold on the ledge. The next instant he was falling through space, and plummeting to the ground below. Damien, raising his eyebrows in shock as he turned to take the steep staircase back to the ground level, chuckled again to himself. "An immortal without his magic," at this he paused and held the crystal, which had been strung along the chain around Jareth's neck, up to eye level, "...is mortal."
* * * * *
The day always started the same. A shrill alarm clock bleating into the warm silence of the early morning, followed by the inevitable struggle from bed and shuffling into the cold tiled bathroom. Then, yawning in front of the mirror, the next step was to the shower and twisting the handles so that the small room filled with dense steam. After the shower it was on to wardrobe, hair, make-up (courtesy of Mabelline), and rushing out the door with a breakfast cereal bar and enough change to grab a quick cup of coffee from "Java Express" down the street.
It was dull, boring, life in a rut, but at least it was dependable. Something Sarah could rely on. There was little more left that continued on tirelessly at such perfect regularity day after day. On that particular morning she reached out with one slender hand and felt along the top of her dresser for her alarm clock- somehow it was out of reach.
Sarah lifted herself up, yawning and scratching her back as she arched it into a delicious stretch. Gazing to her left, she noted the clock, not far, but not where she had left it the night before. "Strange," she mused, guiding it back to the corner of her dresser as she silenced the mechanical beeping.
On the other side of the room her Cell phone erupted into a chorus of something classical. At that point in the morning Sarah couldn't decipher one song from the other if she wanted. She stumbled out of bed, succeeded in banging her knee against her wooden trunk, and then swore the rest of the way to her phone- still charging from it's overnight siesta. "Hello?" Sarah inquired, sounding less than pleased and by far removed from her usual chipper self.
"Sarah, hon, we've got a problem," came the startling response. She rubbed her eyes with the heel of her hand, blinking the sleep away. The dawning sun was sending tendrils of daylight through her blinds, and Sarah walked over to them to slide the little slats open. Cars were already blaring along the streets, amidst billows of mist from manholes.
"You know I'm not on for another hour Deb." The blinds closed again and Sarah padded towards the bathroom. She paused to look at her image in the mirror, ran a hand through her hair and then turned to sit on the toilet. The silence on the other line prompted her to continue: "What is it?"
Relief in the form of a sigh followed on the other side of the flip-cover phone. "Something with the Quintly Case..."
"God, what now?" she inquired.
Another long pause followed. Deb cleared her throat and then, breathing out, muttered: "You know I wouldn't call you if it hadn't been of the utmost importance. Not at this hour." This was a preparation for something awful, Sarah could sense it. She knew even before the words flew out of Deb's mouth the next instant. Something had disrupted her morning schedule. The day was off balance.
"Uh-huh."
"It's on most the channels." Sarah crossed to the other side of the room to snap on her little television set. The first image, which had replaced her usual early morning news hour and talk show, was that of her worst nightmares. She dropped the phone, and didn't move to retrieve it, even when Deb continued talking to her absent boss. Instead, bending down, she glared at the TV and shook her head.
"Great," she muttered, snapping it off. At this she did notice the phone, but was beyond the point of needing more information. What she needed then was a new client, and perhaps a new line of work completely. "Just goddamn great!"
She rushed herself into the bathroom, cranked the hot water up as high as it would go in her shower, and then tumbled in before her anger got the best of her. On the dresser the clock had suffered from some sort of power failure. It's digital face boasted red flashing numbers: 13 o'clock.
* * * * *
The workplace was anything but calm when she entered. She was met with a bustle of paperwork, shoved into her awaiting arms, and two paralegals who were overanxious to brief her on the most recent development behind the Quintly case fiasco. As well as she could handle, Sarah dealt with the information, until she found her office door and floundered inside before being buried in the formalities.
"Why me?" she inquired, pressing her back against the slick wooden door she had used to separate her own quiet workspace from the chaos beyond it. However, it was only a matter of time before she had to face the inescapable. The folders fell upon her desk, out of her overburdened arms, as Sarah drooped into her chair.
The intercom buzzed and Sarah lifted her eyes towards the black phone sitting ominously on her desk. "Have you dealt with it?" the voice drifted into her space, prompting Sarah to sit straight in her chair and lean in closer for her response.
"What do you expect me to do, Mr. Peterson?" her question came out a bit too sarcastic and Sarah could, again, sense the trouble surrounding the day. "I-I mean, he succeeded in going through a high speed chase during the morning traffic and nearly killed...."
"Do you think I care about that?!" Sarah tried to interject, but was abruptly cut off. "You get your client under control, Ms. Williams, or we'll be seriously reconsidering that partnership offer." The news settled against her, diffusing around like a bad omen cloud that hung overhead. Sarah breathed deep and bit her tongue to refrain from jeopardizing her probable promotion. "Do we have an understanding?"
She smothered a sweet smile over her lips and directed her eyes through the glass wall on the left of her office towards the balding man across the hall. He was watching her closely, bent over his own phone. "Of course." She raised a hand towards the boss and then leant back in the chair so as to be out of sight.
The entire case had been a mistake from the start. One problem after another eventually culminated into the day's disaster. And through it all Sarah could see the proverbial carrot strung just barely out of her reach: partnership. The goal that lingered in the back of her mind through her trials in court, and any number of hard fought victories. For a girl who had done nothing but dream her life's profession had been something of a surprise.
"I need a vacation," she whispered to herself, flipping open her briefcase. However, before she had a chance to get to work on the latest problems regarding her client, Sarah noticed a little package tucked against one fold of the rich leather. Her smile returned and she fished the present out, turning it over in her hand as she shook her head with a laugh. "Jake."
It was small, petite, and swathed in a pale pink bow that was, nearly, larger than the box itself. Sarah lifted her eyes again, looking into the hall for signs of her boyfriend, but saw, again, only the frantic faces of her paralegals flustering themselves over paperwork and phone calls. He was nowhere to be seen.
Bright blue eyes, handsome face, charming smile- Sarah's prince charming. The man she would marry, or so she had told herself a thousand times over during their long courtship. But then he had been the only serious relationship in her long run of short romances and brief dating histories. Length itself made her commitment to Jake that much more special.
Taking hesitation aside, Sarah pulled open the box's top. It was jewelry, and beautiful, but not what she had been hoping for. Her spirits slightly withered from the sight and Sarah took the delicate silver chain into her hand so that she could see the necklace in the light from her lamps. "Guess I'll have to wait for the ring to match it," she thought aloud.
Despite her making light of the situation, something weighted heavy in Sarah's gut when she spun the necklace between her two fingers. The little shiny bauble that dangled from the end of one long piece of corkscrewed silver filament, (which also wrapped around the circumference of the aforementioned trinket), was strikingly familiar. And, if she had to describe it, Sarah found herself immediately thinking...
*I've brought you a gift*
...a crystal.
But that was her adolescence talking, a time that was, *thank god*, long past her. Some fifteen years past. She shivered at the thought of age and the sheer magnitude of time and miles and growing up that separated her from her past. Proving that she was beyond superstition, Sarah strung the necklace around her slender neck and clasped it on the first attempt. It bounced against her collarbones when she got up, making it that much more difficult to imagine that it was something only...
ONLY!!
...related to her boyfriend. He had seen it, thought of her, bought it, and now it was looped over her neck and sparkling in the sunshine that struck its spherical body. Sarah opened her office door to meet the onslaught of questions.
She listened briefly, but only long enough to remember that she'd forgotten to feed her meter downstairs. "Ruby," Sarah interjected, laying her hands on the young paralegal's stiff shoulders. The girl's eyes widened as she nodded energetically. "Contact Mr. Quintly right away and let him know that he's not to answer anything until I have a word with him."
Fishing through her pockets for change, Sarah grabbed hold of the younger girl's arm before letting her leave. "And please make sure that he realized that this will be his last opportunity for making an Ass out of both himself and me." Sarah smiled sweetly and raised her eyebrows once to emphasize the importance of her message. The girl, Ruby, nodded again and managed a brief goodbye as she gathered together her things to leave.
Sarah was already out the door. Immediately the tension in the air lessoned and, by the time she was in the elevator and passing through the eleventh floor- on the way down to the tenth- she could imagine that the day had the chance of turning around. Then the little crystal on the end of her necklace slid against her skin, and the goose bumps that followed only further assured her that there would probably be no way to remedy the already destroyed morning.
Further proof came when she rounded the corner to her car and noticed the yellow ticket flapping in the chilled breeze, positioned right below her windshield wiper. "Why did I bother to wake up?" Passer- bys exchanged a short glance her way, met with Sarah's icy glare when she ripped the parking violation from her windshield and jammed enough money into the meter to last her through the day and most of the night.
"Your really very beautiful when your angry," a voice stated from behind her. Sarah turned, relieved to find no more surprises, other than the pleasant one offered by her lover, who had appeared suddenly on her side of town. "Did I ever tell you that before?"
"No," she answered gently, sashaying her way into his arms. Sarah tilted her head up and kissed him, watching his blue eyes sparkle.
"Well, now I have." He returned her kiss and then slid his hands along the small of her back. "So, what luck to find you down here. I hate trenching my way through the hordes of there." Jake gestured towards the middle of the high-rise, from where Sarah had just come. She giggled briefly, laying her head against his shoulder.
"Luck has nothing to do with this day."
Jake just squeezed her tighter and then, draping his arm around her waist, turned her around to walk away from the office. Sarah stopped him, mid-stride, and then, with a depleted sigh, separated herself from his warmth. "Can't play hooky today?" he asked, turning the corners of his mouth down in a pleading expression that tugged at Sarah's heart enough to only further make her love the boy.
But she had to turn him down, less lose her prime opportunity up at the Law Offices of blah blah blah. "Nope," she stated plainly, jerking her hands into the pockets of her slacks. "Listen, I have a load of work to get done today, and I'm probably gonna be home pretty late."
"You know what, that's fine," he stated, hindering her from further explaining the reason for her bad day and extended work hours. Jake stepped forward, kissed her gently and then swung her hand in his for a moment. "You just get back to me sometime tonight and I'll be happy."
Sarah could only smile as she moved away from him, back to the hustle and bustle of the office. She had quite the mess to clean up, over the course of the day. "Sarah!" he called as she walked away, and she turned to look over her shoulder towards him. "I like the necklace."
He was out of sight before Sarah could determine if he had intended the compliment as a joke- reflecting his good taste on choosing the gift... or if he had never seen it before. She shivered again, clutching her arms around her torso and then entered back through the double glass doors, which led into the great belly of the office building. Mirrored windows sparkled around her, and she caught her reflection in one before catching an elevator that was, very nearly, packed full of business people sipping cofee and sharing in small talk.
Somehow she felt, pressed against the corner and between two large men with sweat standing out on their brows, that Jake wasn't being witty when he commented on the necklace. She touched it again as she pushed her way through the crowd to get off on her floor, and then promptly forced the worried thoughts out of her mind. But then, it seemed strange that she should be wearing a present, left in her briefcase of all places, that had not been offered to her by her boyfriend.
She spent another few minutes in her office, gathering papers and folders before she left again for the subway and towards the holding facility where Mr. Quintly had been detained since the chase. Nodding briefly to Mr. Peterson, on the phone and pacing in his office, Sarah made her hasty retreat back into something that resembled calm rationality.
But unease wouldn't leave her, and she found herself checking over her shoulder during the entire trip downtown.