A/N: This story came out of nowhere and wouldn't leave alone until I let it have its say. It's based off the webcomic world of Pika-la-Cynique, which she has uploaded on dA. Go see it for yourself; it's pretty amazing! Christine, Erik, and Raoul are from Phantom of the Opera, Sarah and Jareth are, obviously, from Labyrinth. Christine and Sarah are roomies, as are Jareth and Erik, if you're slightly confused by anything. I hope you enjoy the story! It was great fun to write ^.^
Sarah watched as her ten-year old son climbed out of the pool, shaking his shaggy blond hair out of his eyes. He looked so much like Ambrosious when he did that, she couldn't help but laugh at him. Hearing her laughter, he looked in her direction. His blue eyes lit up with a mischievous fire as he hurried towards her. Standing, she backed away from him as he dripped his way nearer.
"Don't you dare, young man!" she said, for her she knew what he was attempting. She had just finished drying off, and she had no intention of getting wet again. He smirked and kept stalking her. This was a game they played, the two of them. His twin sister was more likely to sneak up while she wasn't looking and throw a bucket of water on her.
As her son made a lunge for her, his arms open, she stepped sideways and nudged him back into the water. He came up a moment later, whining, "Mooooom! You never let me get you…That's not fair!"
"Allow me," came a soft, familiar voice from behind her. Before she could even glance over her shoulder, she found herself treading water next to her son. "After all, dear" came the voice again, "we must be fair."
Spluttering, she turned towards the voice and saw -
"Jareth!" Sarah sat straight up in bed, her arms flailing. Breathing heavily, she sat there, her eyes wide. "No…"she muttered to herself. "No, I did not just dream that-". Shuddering, she grabbed her arms and rubbed her hands up and down.
Her door creaked open a minute later or so, and her roommate poked her head in. "Are you alright, Sarah? I thought I heard you yell something and I wanted to make sure you weren't sleepwalking again…"
The comment brought her head up, and she stared at Christine for a second. As her left eye began to twitch, she got out of bed, only to glare through the floor. "Why that little…"
Christine, who was now becoming even more confused, asked, "What happened?"
"He made me dream…No, it's too terrible; I can't say."
"I think it's going to give me nightmares."
"I didn't think he'd make you do that in a dream…Good grief, he can't get any awake so he has to do it while you sleep?"
"No, Christine, it was worse…"
"What did you dream?"
"We had kids…"
Christine's eyes got really big and she couldn't quite contain the look on her face which translated into "ahhhhh".
Sarah had begun pacing during their short conversation, but now she stopped, put her fists on her hips and glared at the floor again. "That's it. I have had enough! We are talking about this: now!"
Christine stood in the open door of their apartment and watched the brunette punch the elevator button four times in rapid succession. As the glowering face disappeared behind the slowly closing doors, the singer's mind couldn't help but think how romantic that dream must have been. Sighing, she closed the door and made herself a cup of tea. It wouldn't be long before Sarah was back, and she wanted to hear everything.
Sarah pounded three times on the door, waiting as she heard shuffling footsteps on the other side. The door cracked open just a bit and she saw Erik's bleary eye looking out at her. Seeing who it was, he sighed and opened the door the rest of the way. "What's he done now?" he asked, his expression resigned.
"He's gone and stuck nasty things in my dreams, that's what!" she bit out as she stomped her way into the living room. Not seeing a blonde head, she turned down the hallway. She hoped he was still asleep, then she could dump ice water on him.
However, when she shoved his door open, she was not quite so lucky. He was still lying on his stomach, but he was up on his forearms staring at the door as though it were about to eat him. "Sarah? What's-"
She didn't let him get any farther. Stopping next to the bed, she glared at him, her hands once again on her hips.
"Are you alright?"
"You slimy little rat toad, how could you?"
"I honestly have no idea what you're-"
"Don't lie to me, Jareth, or so help me!"
"You think you can just pop things into my dreams?"
"Well, I don't think so! We've been over this before, haven't we?"
"I feel like I'm caught in a loop here, and you-"
"WHAT THE BLOODY HELL AM I SUPPOSED TO HAVE DONE THIS TIME?"
Sarah finally stopped ranting as Jareth jumped out of his bed, eyes glaring down at her, his fluffy hair standing up in even more directions than usual. His reaction to her accusations threw her off track for a moment, but his hair brought her right back. The boy in her dream had that hair. And the eyes. At that moment, his blue eyes were staring at her like she'd just grown another head.
"Don't act innocent, Jareth. I don't appreciate dreaming about you, period, but then you have to go and throw something like that in?"
"Sarah," here he pinched the bridge of his nose between two fingers. "Tell me what it is you think I've done." As she opened her mouth to spew more at him, he held up the other hand, his jaw tight. "Now."
She had already spent most of her steam, so she was left holding her elbows and looking towards his window. "Why children, Jareth?"
He had been rubbing his forehead, but at her question, he froze. She was waiting for a snarky comment, wishing she'd just stayed upstairs. She was not expecting his hand to come out and draw her face around towards his. "Children?"
"Yes, Jareth, children. Little blonde children with your eyes. It's not funny…" her eyes refused to meet his, until he voiced his next question.
"You were dreaming about our children?"
"Why are you acting so con-" she ground to a halt as a possibility popped into her head. "You really didn't send that dream, did you?"
"No, I didn't, but I'm curious to know about it."
Her eyes got really big and she spun around, darting back into the living room, dodging around furniture to get to the front door. Just as her hand wrapped around the knob, she felt his presence crowd up behind her. Aiming for his stomach, she shoved her elbow back. He grabbed it with his left hand as his right settled on the door near her head.
"Know this, Sarah; I might mess with you here and there, suggest something once in awhile, but I don't send dreams about the future. Not my style. But I won't lie and say that I'm not floored and flattered you were dreaming about our children."
"They're not our-" she tried to interject, struggling to get her elbow back.
"Don't!" he commanded, his voice holding a rough edge. "They may or may not, that's not the point. What I'm trying to say, if you'll listen, is that I've never dreamed of our future. Ever. However, if you're seeing a possible future in your dreams, take care of it. They're just children, after all."
"They aren't real, Jareth…"
At that, she found herself, back to pressed up against the door, his face inches from her own. "Don't. Say. That." This time he really was growling at her.
She had never seen him like this before, and that frightened her just a bit.
"You know the power of words, Sarah. Just because you don't really like me at the moment doesn't mean things won't change years from now. Don't say things now that you'll regret later. Their lives might lie in your hands. Remember Toby, Sarah. You didn't really think goblins would come and take him, but we did. You don't really think they exist, but they might. Watch your mouth, precious, because if they are real, they aren't just yours. They're mine too. And I won't let anyone, including their mother, hurt them." With that final declaration, he pushed himself off the door and went to move away from her.
Sarah turned slowly back around and went to open the door. Something made her stop, however, with her foot inches from the threshold. "Jareth," she said, her back to him, "I'm sorry for accusing you…"
"It's fine," she heard him mumble, his voice sounding slightly strained, as though he were exhausted.
Glancing over her shoulder at him, she saw him looking away from her, his eyes lowered. Without thinking, she went to him, stood on tiptoe, and brushed her lips across his cheek. As she pulled away, his startled, mismatched blue eyes met hers. Not saying anything, she darted out the door and hurried back upstairs.
Christine's head had just nodded forward for the third time in seven minutes when she heard the door open and close quietly. Blinking the bleariness from her eyes, she looked over to see her roommate looking slightly shell-shocked. Standing, she hurried over and said, "What happened?"
"He didn't do it."
"Yeah…He said it wasn't him."
"And you believe him?"
"After that, yes."
"He went all manly on me, hurt pride and all."
"Don't try, there's no way you could picture it."
"Then where'd they come from?"
"Maybe the bologna sandwich I had before bed."
Sarah moved away from the opera singer, heading towards her own room. Christine's voice stopped her before she got there.
"What if it's real?"
"What if they're really your kids?"
"Don't even say that, Christine."
"Don't! I can't think about that right now…"
A moment or two of silence ruled the apartment, then Christine said softly, "You kind of hope they are, don't you?"
Sarah didn't answer, merely glancing over her shoulder and saying, "I'm going back to bed. Goodnight."
Christine was left in the living room, wondering what it would be like to dream about her kids.
The next morning, Sarah seemed in a much better mood, so Christine teased her a little about the dream. "So, does he make pretty babies?"
Sarah flushed a little, staring at her buttered toast as though it would soon begin explaining the cure for cancer.
"He does, doesn't he?" she said, laughing as Sarah's face got even redder. Pushing herself away from the table, the brunette put her dishes in the sink. Christine was just about to say something else when Sarah said something to make her mouth slap shut.
"I don't know…Erik's kids weren't too bad looking, either."
"Oh, didn't I tell you?" Sarah asked. "You were there too, in my dream. Your kids were swimming with mine. And they most assuredly did not look like de Chagnys." Sarah left the room, humming a little, once again leaving her roommate behind. This time, however, Christine didn't move for a good half hour. She sat there, eyes glazed over, until Sarah yelled on her way to class, "Don't you have a music lesson today or something?"