Chasing Dreams

-o0O0o-

Author's Note:

A brief recap: Sarah has made a business out of selling teas made from a magical peach tree, courtsey of Jareth, though he wasn't aware of it at first. When he does find out, he shows up and demands his share. He takes her out for Italian and agrees to her requests for two more goblin helpers, a second tree, and protection. The next day, Sarah visits the Underground where she found two new employees and had an interesting stroll through the Goblin Market. A week later, after a trip to the post office, Sarah summons Jareth to arrange for payment of his 33%. While there, Jareth examines her tree and makes arrangments for Sarah to visit the orchard.

And the story continues...

-o0O0o-

Chapter 8: A Peach of a Day

Saturday afternoon, Sarah once again found herself standing on top of a hill overlooking a vast labyrinth. However, rather than an expanse of twisting stonework, a maze of fruit trees stretched out over rolling foothills until they were tiny multi-colored dots beneath the purple-grey mountains rising in the distance. The irony wasn't lost on her.

Whether the point was to remind or intimidate, she wasn't sure. Contemplating the scene and comparing it to the snapshot in her memory, Sarah took slow, deep breaths to stave off the nausea, riding out the wave as the ground beneath her feet teetered to a stop. Jareth had been uncharacteristically quiet as she acclimated to her new surroundings. No snide remarks, no lingering hands…

Sarah shifted her gaze ever so slightly to her companion. The strong, warm breeze teased at his hair, whipping it about his face, the sunlight glancing off the strands like crystal; his gauzy white shirt floated about his grey leggings, the untucked ends splitting in teasing glimpses of the firm planes of his stomach. His own gaze was fixed on the horizon, his knee-high boots planted in a wide, confident stance. He seemed like some kind of sea god in that moment, a celestial pirate of sorts, the weather at his beck and call, and the lives of the sailors to brave it at his mercy.

As if sensing her scrutiny, he tilted his head toward her and offered his arm. "Shall we?"

Sarah looked away, berating herself at being caught staring at him before setting off down the hill on her own. "I don't need an escort to pick out a tree."

Jareth grinned at her back as she took determined strides away from him. "If you keep spurning my offers, precious, I'm going to think you don't care."

"Oh?" Letting gravity and the warmth of the sun relax her step, Sarah increased her pace, slipping over the rocky terrain in an ambling, childlike skip. A small smile touched her lips. "And here I thought you weren't getting the point at all."

Jareth chuckled as he began to follow her, his unhurried strides fluid and graceful. "So cruel, Sarah."

At the bottom of the hill, she came to a faltering stop, her toes just crossing over into the shadow of a peach tree in front of her, its branches reaching out over her head to pull her in. While she didn't need an escort, maybe it wasn't the worst idea ever. The last time she was in a forest of any kind in the Labyrinth, she almost lost her head.

Sarah plucked idly at the leaves overhead, catching one between her fingers and twirling it against her lips. Unlike the goliath agricultural operations she was familiar with, this orchard had the air of something wild; there was no order to it she could discern. The trees, heavy with fruit, stretched up from the earth in a pattern of their own making, other flora filling in the spaces between and around. Patches of sunny daffodils sprung up from the purple and green clover covering the ground, and blackberry bushes hugged the trunks of trees. Flowers that she didn't recognize peeked out playfully from the shadows as the breeze pulled at their brightly colored petals, diffusing their exotic perfume to mix with the sugary scent of peaches. Sarah felt a little like she was on the precipice of some supernatural secret garden. Inhaling the sweetly intoxicating bouquet, made no less so by the lingering dizziness from the trip Underground minutes before, she swayed slightly, but determinedly kept her feet planted as she waited for Jareth.

When he finally caught up to her, Sarah fell into step beside him. They walked aimlessly in silence, side-by-side, the cadence of birdsong and rustling leaves setting their leisurely pace. Never at ease in his company, the silence ultimately stretched to an uncomfortable breaking point and Sarah had to fill it with something to shut out the disconcerting thoughts running crazy circles in her head. She cleared her throat softly and glanced at him. "I didn't realize it was such a booming business, fruit."

"It seems to thrive here, so we grow it." He shrugged. "Goblin fruit is always in high demand."

Sarah rolled her eyes, feeling much more secure when there was a battle to be fought. "'We must not look at goblin men, we must not buy their fruits.'"

A smirk played at the corner of his mouth. "Ah…I remember. Christina, I believe it was."

Sarah whipped her head around. "What?"

"Yes. I knew her." He plucked a peach from a nearby branch, tossing it in his hand. "A disagreeable child."

"You knew Christina Rossetti? The Christina Rossetti who wrote the Goblin Market?"

"Pretty little fantasy, that poem of hers. I quite enjoyed it." He chuckled lightly, taking a bite of the peach. "Though, it wasn't this fruit she was referring to."

Realization dawned. "She ran the Labyrinth."

"Have you ever heard mention of a younger sister?"

"No. She was the youngest of…" Sarah gasped, coming to an abrupt stop as she turned to face him. "No!"

"Unfortunately, for her, she lingered in a dream until she ran out of time. The child was forfeit."

"You're not seriously telling me that she lost her little sister to you because she didn't make it to the castle in time?"

Taking a final bite of the peach, he tossed it away into the trees. "Runners are the only ones to remember the child ever existed. I suppose she needed to believe in her happy ending."

Sarah crossed her arms, glaring up at him. "What happened to the child?"

He smiled coolly as he took a step toward her. "Misplaced indignation looks so charming on you."

"That's it? You're not going to tell me?"

He leaned forward so that their eyes were level, his arms crossed behind his back and his voice low. "I thought you didn't want to know."

Sarah opened her mouth to retort, but promptly snapped it shut when she realized that she had no words ready for attack.

Did she want to know? Could she keep doing what she was doing if she did? And if she kept ignoring the obvious, what did that say about her?

Deciding to drop it for now and think about it later, Sarah shoved her hands into the pockets of her shorts and started walking again. After a minute or two of strained silence, she paused to examine the nearest tree. "I've been trying to grow another tree for years, but the seeds never take. Why is that? How do you have so many?"

Jareth came up to stand beside her. "I'm not quite sure, myself. Though, I imagine it's something along the lines of not being able to wish for more wishes."

"I don't understand."

"These trees…," he waved a hand to indicate the expansive orchard, "…are just trees. Your tree, on the other hand, was the result of a wish, or dream, if you'd like. Although, not quite as I had intended."

She turned to look at him, puzzled. "Just trees, but—"

"They're not enchanted. They're perfectly safe if you'd like to partake. Though, I'd stay clear of the berries, if I were you."

Sarah narrowed her eyes. "If they're just trees…then what the hell am I doing here?"

"Why are you here?" He smiled in that smugly amused way of his, with just a hint of condescension. "To have a pleasant stroll on a beautiful day with your handsome, wickedly charming—"

"Gah!" Sarah clenched her fists, turning to walk away from him. Handsome, wickedly charming…

She shook her head in mild disbelief. You forgot arrogant, annoying, pretentious, pushy…

"How can I…" Sarah pressed a hand over her eyes as she tried to find the right words to express her irritation in a way that he might actually comprehend. "How, exactly, am I supposed to trust you if every time you open your mouth you unload all these tremendous lies all over me?" She turned an accusing glare on him. "You tricked me."

He raised an eyebrow, crossing his arms over his chest as he leaned against the tree. "Hardly. I merely asked when you wanted to come to the orchard, and was inclined to acquiesce to your request. If my lovely, though somewhat ill-tempered, business associate desires to share a leisurely afternoon with me, how can I refuse?"

"I don't desire to do anything with you. That's not what I was agreeing to, and you know it."

In one fluid movement, he dropped to the ground, stretching out lazily in a sunny patch beneath the tree. Folding his hands beneath his head, he closed his eyes. "Perhaps. But what's said is said. Your wish is my command."

Sarah arched a brow at his dry tone. "Is that so? And if I wish for you to stop meddling in my life?"

"So quick to take advantage of my generosity? But not the right words…" He shifted to lie on his side, his head propped up on his hand as he considered her, a small smirk on his lips. "Given that I am of a generous nature, perhaps you'd like to try that again? Surely there is something you wish for, some secret desire that I can…," his eyes raked slowly over her figure, "…satisfy?"

When she merely continued to regard him coolly, he shrugged. "No, then. Pity."

"You haven't answered my question."

"My lady is cruel, her cold words razor-tipped and aimed at my heart. But not wholly without compassion. A small hope in a simple word – 'if'." He sighed as he turned over onto his back to resume his cat-like sprawl. "Tell you what, precious - I'll make you a deal. You stop meddling in my life, and I'll stop meddling in yours."

Ok. Touché. Sarah pursed her lips, irritated at his move and check, and her inability to do anything about it. Admittedly, she did kind of bring this on herself. She had known, tucked into an oubliette somewhere in the back of her mind, that he'd pop up one day if she took this path. And she couldn't very well stop meddling in the Labyrinth – it was her business, her life.

"Have a seat, Sarah. Relax. You seem a little tense."

Sarah stared at him for a few minutes, fuming. When he didn't say anything else, she walked over to him, crossing her arms over her chest. "What are you doing?"

He cracked an eye at her. "I was almost asleep. It was a long night."

"What? Too many babies to snatch?"

He sighed. "Do you really want to know?" He closed his eyes again, as if he already knew the conversation was over.

And it was, since she still didn't have an answer.

Sarah walked away, silently cursing him, herself, and his stupid Labyrinth. A chilly breeze brushed over her bare arms, raising goosebumps and she paused in her pacing to look up. As if her stormy thoughts had willed the weather, the sky had grown darker, clouds rolling in fast, tumbling over each other, sweating out the first drops of rain in their haste to reach the orchard. Just as she opened her mouth to point out this new development, the clouds gave a final, victorious surge of energy and burst. Sarah let out a strangled gasp as she was doused in an icy torrent.

Keeping her movements to a minimum in a futile effort to keep the cold rain soaking through her clothing from touching her skin, she turned around slowly to find Jareth still lying on the ground under the tree.

Under a sunny sky and completely dry.

She crossed her arms over her chest, both to contain her fury and cover her now nearly transparent white t-shirt. "You did that on purpose."

He smiled slowly as he turned his head to give her a once over. "I thought you might need a little cooling off." He gestured vaguely as he resumed his pose. "And I can't be bothered with irrigation."

"You're an ass."

"So eloquent. Yet another of your many charms."

"I hate you."

"You say that so often. I'd be hurt, if you really meant it."

"Wow." Sarah laughed humorlessly, incredulous despite the fact that she knew she really shouldn't be surprised. She pushed her sopping hair back from her face angrily. "Your ego really knows no bounds. What could possibly make you think I don't mean it?"

He tsked softly. "I've seen your dreams, Sarah."

She stiffened. The implications of that deceptively simple statement stopped her breath and squeezed at her heart. Her hand drifted to her throat in a vain, self-conscious attempt to loosen it.

"You must be uncomfortable – soaking wet, cold, your clothing clinging to your skin…"

The words were soft and seductive, the underlying amusement effectively shifting her focus and pissing her off. If only she had something to throw…

"You're welcome to share my bit of sunshine."

She raised an eyebrow. "Are you sure you want to make that offer?"

Jareth glanced over at her and chuckled as he took in her bedraggled state and murderous expression. "Retract those claws, minx, and come over here."

God, he was annoying. Sarah continued to glare at him, blinking the rain out of her eyes. But he had a point. The rain was freezing.

Sarah took a deep breath, and let it out slowly as she weighed her options. While not completely ruling out finding something to knock that smug expression off his jerky face, she took a closer look at his "bit of sunshine". She could see the rain falling on either side, but the bubble of space he occupied was dry - branches swaying slightly in the breeze, sunlight dancing through the leaves. Above, the rain just seemed to disappear somewhere near the treetop. Stepping toward the bubble, she could just make out a silvery transparent membrane through the veil of rain. Sarah hesitated a moment before reaching toward it. Her hand slipped through easily, the air warm on the other side.

She pulled her hand back. "What is it?"

"Just a stolen bit of time."

"Is it safe?"

He smiled. "Don't you trust me?"

"Really?"

He laughed and she fought the urge to growl.

Taking a breath to steel herself for what seemed to be a very weird thing to do, Sarah closed her eyes as she stepped through into the bubble. Around and above her, the storm continued on, a blue sun-streaked sky overlying the grey to create something completely surreal. She ran a hand through her hair as she stared bewildered at the anomaly, pausing when something else occurred to her. Her hair was dry. And so was the rest of her.

She threw her arms wide in exasperation, rolling her eyes. "If you think I'm going to thank you for that, you're mistaken."

"I wouldn't hear of it."

Sarah pressed her lips together. Deciding to ignore him for the moment, she leaned back against the tree, sliding down until she was sitting on the ground a few feet from Jareth.

She felt frayed; more on edge than usual, even considering the company. She had been particularly nervous about this trip – being alone with him on his turf. He made her feel….off balance, out of control. And, apparently, he brought out the worst in her; they had been sniping at each other since they got here. Well, really, she had been sniping at him, though not without reason. Still, she didn't like being this way, feeling this way.

Sarah rubbed the back of her neck and worked her jaw, tight from clenching her teeth. She really wasn't normally this bitchy. She just needed to breathe, calm down. This wasn't so bad, right? She didn't get out of the house that often; her business dominated most of her time. And it was a beautiful, kind of strange, day. She should take advantage of the down time.

Sarah snuck a peek at Jareth, his eyes closed as he reclined under the tree. Surely they could be civil to each other for an afternoon? There had to be something they could talk about without it devolving into an argument.

But what?

Ask him what his favorite color was, if he had any hobbies? Everything that came to mind seemed absolutely ridiculous. She settled on something she had been wondering about since her last trip to the Labyrinth.

"Jareth?"

"Hmm?"

"What's the difference between the goblins in the throne room and those in the market?"

"So you are observant." The small sardonic smile that had touched his lips faded. "They're the ones that take the children."

Sarah felt a small twist in her stomach. "You mean…the goblins I have working for me moonlight as baby snatchers?"

"A bit ironic, isn't it?"

Despite all her best efforts, that was exactly the kind of information she had been trying to avoid.

Perhaps conversation was overrated.

Sarah looked out on the bizarre landscape as she shelved that troubling bit of information. It was eerily beautiful, calming in a way - the soft patter of the rain and warm breeze spinning up a dreamy lullaby. She let it soak in, let it turn all those hard, sharp thoughts to mush.

When the world had become hazy and quiet, and sufficiently more bearable again, Sarah lifted her head from where it had sunk back onto the tree trunk to peer over at Jareth. His breathing had become slow and deep, his face relaxed. He really seemed to have gone to sleep.

It was an odd thought - he trusted her.

Sarah stretched out on the ground, her head propped in her hand as she studied him. His chest rose and fell slowly, the ruffles framing the creamy expanse of skin left bare to the sunlight moving softly in the breeze. It occurred to her just then that she could stab him right now and he wouldn't be able to do a thing about it. A vision flashed – his porcelain skin bathed in flowing crimson. She flinched.

Not that she would ever do anything like that. She didn't actually want anything bad to happen to him. As much as he riled her, he was also something of a dream – a knight, a villain, a fantasy. She could deny it all she wanted, but he fascinated her, drew her in despite her efforts to the contrary. But…dreams were fleeting. They were too intangible to hold on to, slipping through your fingers like smoke if you tried. And if you had your dreams and lost them…what did you have then?

No, she wouldn't act on that either. Dreams were not to be trusted.

Her eyes skimmed over his features. Sharp angles caught the light, creating seductive shadows; wisps of hair touched at his eyes and lips. He was awfully pretty to look at; when he wasn't being a total prat. She kind of wished she had touched his face when he had offered.

Maybe…if he really was asleep…

Giving into temptation, Sarah held her breath as she edged a little closer. Warily, she searched his face for any signs of wakefulness before she reached out, her fingers brushing lightly over the dark curve of his eye. She squeaked in surprise as a hand grabbed her wrist, flipping her. Her back was pressed into the clover, her wrists caged by gloved hands on either side of her head. Jareth leaned over her, his body pressing down along the length of hers, tense. Sarah stared up at him wide eyed, her heart racing, and her breath ragged.

It was a long moment before she felt a subtle shift, his body relaxing ever so slightly, sinking a little lower onto hers. With every tortured inhale, her chest brushed against his, his pendant hanging down between her breasts. His eyes trailed down over her face, pausing on her mouth when she licked her lips. He dipped his head, his cheek brushing hers and the tips of his hair tickling over her skin. "Be careful, little mouse," he whispered. "It's a dangerous game you play…sleeping crocodiles and all."

Sarah swallowed thickly. "I thought you were asleep, and I..."

He nuzzled her neck. "What's a little sleep lost when my lady wants attention…"

She tried to free her hands but he held fast. "I don't want your attention. And I'm not your lady."

He lifted his head slightly to meet her gaze, an amused quirk to his lips. "No? By my count, we're on our third date—"

Date? "Business meeting!"

"During all of which you've been flirting shamelessly, breathless and blushing—"

"What? You're completely deluded—"

"But…tell me, Sarah. I'm not well versed in the social conventions - at what point is it appropriate—"

"It's not appropriate at all!"

"The second date, the third? Or perhaps…," he dipped his head again, his lips skimming over her ear, "…after the first kiss?"

Sarah stilled. "You wouldn't."

"Wouldn't I?" His lips trailed lightly over her jawline to hover tantalizing close to the corner of her mouth. "You know, precious, if you cross that imaginary line of yours, I just might be tempted to take what is offered."

She wondered briefly if he could feel all the butterflies fluttering about madly in her stomach. "It wasn't an offer."

"I'm curious. You're so eager to paint me a villain. Is that what you want me to be?"

"I don't want you to be anything." His breath teased at her lips and she fought the overwhelming urge to lick them. "I just call it as I see it."

"Really. And what would a villain do in this situation, hmm? When his opponent is…vulnerable? Would he take advantage, take what he wants?"

As much as the ground beneath her would allow, Sarah shifted her head slightly to look up at him. "What do you want?"

"You claim to know me so well. What do you think I want?"

She searched his eyes before answering. "What else does a villain want? Revenge. It must sting - being beaten by a girl. Though, given the size of it, I imagine your ego was largely unharmed."

"Ah, ah, ah, little mouse. You have an amazing lack of self-preservation for a girl in your position." He smiled as he shifted against her, his thumbs tracing lazy designs on the insides of her wrists. "But, revenge? No, nothing so crass. Try again."

She sucked in a breath as his leg slid between hers. "Entertainment?"

He laughed. "You're most certainly not boring."

She tugged at her arms again and glared at him. "Get off."

His smile faded to a half-smirk. "As you wish."

She let out a sigh of relief as he rolled off her. Points to note: conversation and voluntary touching were bad. She snuck a glance at him to see that he had resumed his solitary repose, his eyes closed. Perhaps it was best to let him be for a while.

Taking a shaky breath, she turned her head to look up at the sky. The rain had stopped and small puffy clouds drifted by. She watched them, making pictures and letting her thoughts follow along to faraway places. It wasn't long before her eyelids grew heavy and she let them fall.

-o0O0o-

When she woke, she found herself staring up into a pair of mismatched eyes. She was curled up against the Goblin King, her hand splayed against his bare chest, his lazily toying with her hair. He smiled down at her. "You snore."

Sarah scrambled back. "I do not!"

"How would you know? Share your bed often?"

She blinked at the curious note of warning in his voice before raising her chin fractionally higher. "It's none of your business if I have a string of men in my bed. And I don't snore."

He raised a brow. "And do you cuddle with all of these men or just me?"

Damnit. "Apparently I lose all good judgment when I'm unconscious." She looked away pulling her knees up to her chest. "I was probably just cold."

"If it's heat you're seeking…"

"Stay away from me."

He raised his hands in surrender. "I'm not the one who crossed that line, precious. Far be it for me to deny what is offered. Though, if it eases your mind, I did keep my hands to myself." He grinned. "Mostly."

He had a boyish look about him as he gazed at her, his elbow propped on his knee and his chin in his hand. Kind of sleep-tousled, innocent...what was she thinking? She glared at him. "What about my tree?"

Jareth stood, offering her a hand, which she ignored as she rose clumsily to her feet, her muscles stiff from sleeping on the ground. With a flick of his wrist, he tossed her a crystal, the hard surface morphing into a peach as she caught it. "Perhaps this one will grow a little faster."

-o0O0o-

Lightening flashed. She saw him through the veil of rain - moving closer, stalking her. She stood, frozen, her clothing rain-soaked and clinging like a second skin. The icy chill of it pricked at her sensitive flesh, and her blood ran hot, burning her up from the inside.

Another flash and he was there. His hair was wild and his eyes hungry. She gasped, the sound torn from her mouth as cloth ripped, her shirt hanging opening in tatters, freezing droplets and warm fingers sliding down over her stomach. In one swift movement, he pulled her against him, her body pressed flush against his, slick skin against leather. His hand threaded up through her hair, crushing her lips to his as the thunder crashed - BANG!

Sarah woke with a start. Taking a ragged breath, she kicked at the sheets tangled around her legs and tossed her comforter to the floor. She flopped backwards, spread eagle on her bed, letting the chilly air cool her overheated skin. Her heart raced, and she breathed slowly and deeply to make it stop. Only a dream…

BANG! BANG! BANG!

She bolted upright. Ok. Perhaps not just a dream after all…

Sarah looked at the clock on her nightstand and groaned: 2:38 am. Who could possibly be at the door at this hour? Maybe that nap earlier hadn't been an entirely bad thing…

Slipping on her robe, she shuffled quickly down the hall, stretching on her tip-toes to see out the peep hole. Two large distorted heads bobbed on top of tiny uniformed bodies. Wrinkling her nose, she pulled her robe tighter and opened the door.

"Sorry to wake you, Miss, but there's been an attempted break-in."

-o0O0o-

Author's Note:

Many thanks to Surelady who beta-ed this chapter for me! You're fantastic. :)

Also, Christina Rossetti may or may not have been a disagreeable child. I suppose that's a matter of perspective. And there's no record of her running the Labyrinth - but you never know...

Thanks for reading! Please, leave a contribution in the little box. :) Reviews are much appreciated and constructive criticism is always welcome.