At one point in everyone's life, they feel certain confusion. A certain angst. Some call it puberty, some may call it midlife crisis but the irrefutable fact is, everyone has it. So why Jareth King of Goblins thought he was exempt from it was anyones guess (although a few thought it related to the fact he was immortal, therefore mid life really didn't apply). Even Goblins had it, admittedly, the only real reaction was to curl up in a corner looking pathetic and then five minutes later be dancing happily with a chicken. Some called them fickle.
So anyway, Jareth had never had any sort of life crisis. He had always been comfortably reassured in himself, even in puberty when even some of the Fae suffer from crippling self doubt in god knows what. No, he breezed through it, confident and as arrogant as ever. Although the Goblin King wasn't really one for brooding on the dark passions in his soul, he was more for kicking a hapless goblin (of course, they weren't harmed, they were remarkably bouncy and could be placated quickly within a few songs) for stress relief. He was one of those curiously happy people, as long as he had a few goblins to kick and his tight pants.
However, like chicken pox, the odd affliction of self doubt and torturous thought patterns is always lurking. And, like chicken pox, gets worse as you get older. As Jareth had lost count of his age, that could never be good. Instead of suffering a small case of it through adolescence, and learning the guitar and wearing eyeliner (although he had donned the eyewear- possibly more through simple vanity than any urge for rebellion, as it was in fashion at that time in the revels), it had waited for Jareth, it had watched, and it had finally come for him.
Jareth, Goblin King, was having an Identity Crisis.
And that could never be good.
It was going to be a good day today, Sarah knew it. It just had to be, there was no way anything could go wrong. The day itself was beautiful, the sky was blue and the sun was shining. She sighed, despite all this; she knew something would go wrong.
It was the universal law known as Sod's Law.
Sighing, she hitched her bag up to her shoulder and stepped delicately down the front steps of her apartment building. The day was crisp, and if not exactly warm, it was not really too cold either.
Humming tunelessly, trying to shake the ominous feeling, she began to walk to her workplace. As she walked through the autumn coloured park, some dry leaves flew up in an odd wind in an ominous way, and an old swing creaked ominously as it swung ominously. She paused and frowned, something was definitely ominous.
Taking a deep breath, she carried on walking and tightened her coat around her. She was jumping at shadows, as if she were reverting to the childhood habits. She laughed nervously for no particular reason, and then realised she must have sounded rather insane to the elderly jogger who frowned at her as she walked along, her eyes fixatedly creepily somewhere a few yards in front of her, laughing quietly to herself.
She frowned, she was entirely sane. The rest of the journey to the office continued without interruption. She worked as a psychiatrist, her desire to understand the human mind being provoked by an intense dream-like experience she had had at fifteen. Which couldn't possibly have been real, at all, she thought, at all.
She barged in the door with none of her usual grace, swept past MissDenny the Secretary-who-is-ridiculously-nice, past her colleague Bob, to her sanctuary, the coffee machine. She poured out some coffee and sighed gratefully as if the entire worlds problems had been solved overnight.
Bob sidled over "You okay?" he asked carefully. Sarah smiled and held up her cup "Coffee." She said simply.
"Ah." Replied Bob coherently. "Miss Denny thinks you hate her, by the way, she's sobbing in the toilets."
Sarah frowned "What did I do?" she asked confusedly.
Bob sighed "You didn't say good morning." He said solemnly. Bob was one of those nice people who understood everything, which was why he was a good psychiatrist.
Sarah sighed "Does she want coffee?"
Bob cleared his throat "Maybe you should, you know, go apologise."
Sarah gaped "I haven't done anything wrong!"
Nonetheless at Bob's gently insistent hints, and then him physically pushing her out the door of the staff room in the direction of the toilets, she went.
She found Miss Denny's cubicle quickly enough, as it was he only one with someone weeping loudly. There was somebody sniffing forlornly in another one, but Sarah was well-acquainted with Miss Spume's release of pent up emotion.
"Miss Denny?" Sarah enquired softly, knocking on the charmingly coloured salmon pink door.
The weeping stopped abruptly, then continued again with more fervour. The sniffer, evidently feeling the lack of attention, redoubled their efforts. Sarah ignored them "Miss Denny? I'm not angry, I just had some very important…things on my mind. Miss Denny?" It was silent was more – except for the person sniffing disconsolately.
"You…don't hate me?" the hesitant voice asked. The door opened a crack, and the bright eyes of Miss Denny showed. It was her first job after college and she was still quite nervous about her job. Plus being one of the most sensitive people alive, though Sarah aggrievedly.
"No I don't, in fact I like you." Sarah said soothingly. Miss Denny zoomed out of the cubicle "Oh thank you!" sheexclaimed happily, giving Sarah an impromptu hug. Sarah nodded with a tired smile.
She followed Miss Denny out of the toilets and disappeared into her office. She really felt anti-social this morning, which was kind of bad as she worked as a psychiatrist. Kind of people-orientated.
She sighed and sat back in her chair, closing her eyes. She relaxed, and that would explain why she fell out her chair when a smooth voice said…
Jareth, appearing for the second time in Sarah's life after ten years, had been prepared for a few responses.
A)"My God Jareth! It's been so long!"
B)"My God Jareth! I love you! Lets have hot monkey sex!" (This one was more doubtful, but a Goblin King could hope.)
C)"Jareth! You can't have my little brother!"
There were a few hundred other case scenarios he'd thought up in his spare time. However none had prepared for her falling out of her chair and spilling coffee on his trousers. Hot coffee.
He almost shrieked but managed to stifle any such un-masculine urge. He leapt up and with a quick flick of his wrist dispensed of the hot liquid on his tights. He sighed, feeling tried, and looked up. Sarah was gaping at him and seemed only capable of starting incoherent protests of denial. He cleared his throat and tried to regain any semblance of dignity. He smiled devilishly. "Hello again."
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