Jareth's Return

Jareth(8)

"SHIT!"

Jareth was startled awake by the oath. As he lay in bed, half asleep, he could hear a few bangs and crashes. Is sleep ever possible with this woman? He sighed, rolled onto his stomach and pulled his pillow on top of his head.

He groaned as he heard her rush down the stairs, praying she wouldn't fall. Who, in the world, was she talking to this early in the morning? One look at the clock told him it was closer to noon than morning, but all the same, people were sleeping. He also wondered who had gotten into the house without him knowing.

Theodora ran past the living room with one hand pressed to the side of her face, while speaking. "No, Mardy, of course I didn't forget about dinner tonight. I'll be there, with a cake for Sally's birthday."

She was silent for a moment. "Also, I'm bringing a guest.

"Yes, he's a boy and it's not like that.

"There's a favor I need to ask of you and Sally."

More silence. "We'll talk about it when we get there, okay? Thanks, Coach. Bye."

Jareth got up and walked to the doorway of the kitchen in time to see the little witch place a small device on the counter and start pulling things from the cupboards. He almost groaned again when he saw what she was wearing.

Theodora was reaching for a box on the top shelf of a cupboard in nothing but a large shirt and under clothes. He should know, he could see them. Being friends is going to be difficult if she keeps doing things like this. He finally was able to break free of the spell her long, white legs cast upon him and walk towards her.

Reaching for the box she was failing to catch, he spoke to her. "What is that device you were speaking into?"

She squeaked "Gah! You're awake! It's, uh, it's called a cell phone." She looked down at her feet. "Oh my god." She stared at him, eyes wide. "You're awake."

"Yes." He quirked a barely there eyebrow.

"No. You're awake and I'm not wearing pants." She said pointing at her rather enticing legs.

"Oh, really? I hadn't noticed." Jareth replied, looking in her embarrassed eyes.

She slapped his arm and ran upstairs, only to return a minute later wearing raggedy, plaid pajama pants, much to Jareth's disappointment. Jareth scolded himself. She is a lady and you must think of her as such.

"Okay, so dinner is at five, I-" She corrected herself, "we have to be there at two. I have a cake to make," she tied her hair back. "I have to let it cool, frost it. We both have to get ready," she washed her hands, "and it is noon. Two hours. We're going to be late. I'm always late. Where is the damn oil?" She threw hands in the air. "Calm down. Calm down."

Jareth watched her panic with amusement. "Could I be of assistance?"

She laughed. "No, I'll handle the modern stuff. You just go make yourself look pretty. You know where the bathroom is." She stopped with an egg poised to crack against the bowl. "Clothes. You need clothes."

He held up a hand to her. "Tend to your 'modern stuff.' I can dress myself, as I've done for many a century." Though, there had been a few phases here and there during his first two or three centuries. He shuddered. Those poor maids.

As he turned, he could hear Theodora mutter to herself something that sounded like "Crush my dreams, why don't you?" Jareth laughed out loud at that as he made his up the stairs; he couldn't help himself.

Once he got to the bathroom where he found his shirt, jacket and britches, he looked at his reflection, something he hadn't done much lately. He saw the same thing every time; himself standing alone. Alone. All his life, spent surrounded by people and yet so alone, no one to truly understand the burden and satisfaction of caring for so many souls; the fate of most kings.