I turn to Jareth, who is studying the scene visible from the largest window of the apartment. I walk up beside him and follow his gaze.
"It could never be as interesting as the Labyrinth," I say, gesturing to the view, "but the humans can sometimes be as endearing as the goblins." Jareth snorts as I point to a little girl sleeping in her father's arms as he walks from their car toward their apartment. I look at him, ready to chastise him for snorting about the cuteness of a little girl when I realize he was snorting about me calling the goblins endearing. I turn back to the window and watch the two disappear through their doorway. "But the view is interesting enough for occasional pondering." I have the scene memorized from staring out the window so often.
Jareth says nothing, but I know he has acknowledged my words. I go back to sit on the sofa.
"I will stay up until, perhaps, midnight and then have a short night since it is now morning in the Labyrinth and I am still wide away from a good night's sleep." I ignore Jareth's unspoken reaction to that statement. "We will have to prepare a few things before you can meet my family, but cannot leave until later in the morning—perhaps ten—so if you meet me at nine then that should be sufficient. I will have a few hours between waking to get ready and pack, then, and that is helpful, too."
Jareth looks at me with an unreadable expression. "I do not plan on leaving."
I tilt my head. "Excuse me?"
"I am suppressing your magic from finding a way of returning you to the Goblin Kingdom." Translation: His presence here negates my desire to go to the Goblin Kingdom because I want him, not the Labyrinth.
"But I was fine before."
"You had a piece of the Goblin Kingdom here, with your goblins" (my goblins?) "and your friends, and you only spent ten hours there before, so the pull was only fractionally as strong."
I sigh. He is probably right; I cannot know. "Okay, but we will have to find you a place to stay."
He says nothing as he looks at me coolly.
"The entire apartment is smaller than your bedroom. Although my pull-down bed is for two people by human standards," (I am lucky to have a queen-size Murphy bed) "I do not want to assume you will stay in this small, drab space or share my humble bed. I can arrange for a rented room." I do not have much in the way of extra funds, with the money "owed" Dad already set aside (I calculated after my wonderings about traveling Europe), but I can manage.
"That will not be necessary."
"Are you sure?"
Jareth looks at me, annoyed.
"You are not the only spoiled one," I comment with attempted disinterest, "I just wanted to make sure."
After a moment of silence, I decide to break the awkward atmosphere. "It is late evening here, so there is not much to do. We can go for a walk now while there is still light or shop while the stores are still open. We can dine out, or watch a movie, or we can stay here and read or play games. I do not have cable, but I do have the internet." He does not know what half of that means does he?
I sigh. "Sorry, that was probably overwhelming." I pause and begin again, editing my options to more familiar activities. "We can stay in the apartment—if you do not mind the cramped space—and read or play games or just talk. If you do not mind altering your appearance for the evening, we can dine out or visit the shops." I look at him. "We will have to go shopping anyway, but I planned on doing so tomorrow morning and just pushing back our meeting with my family."
"Then let us go tonight, so we can join your family earlier."
I pull back a corner of my mouth in thought. It is a good idea. My parents will have little time to adjust to the idea of me leaving, so a few extra hours with them will be welcome. "Good idea," I admit aloud.
Standing up, I openly appraise Jareth's appearance. I ignore my inner voice's narrative singing of praises of his body while I try to find the particulars that make him inhuman or otherwise eye-catching.
"To what extent can you alter within a form?" It is a rather personal question, so I ask it in a soft tone of voice and quickly explain myself. "We need you to look... human."
Of course he can alter forms, and I have noticed that the markings around his eyes change, but I do not know if he can alter himself otherwise within one form.
"I can style you with my... human resources to make you blend in more, but I thought it would look more natural if you did it yourself."
Jareth still is not saying anything. Is he concentrating?
He must be because I blink and suddenly his markings are gone—or skin-colored. The tilt of his eyebrows is drawn downward at the outer edges. Wow. Well, that takes care of that.
"That's amazing," I praise aloud.
Now for the hair. I really do not want him to mess with his hair. I rummage through the bathroom and emerge with a hair tie and gel, neither of which I use for myself, but somehow made their way to the depth of my cabinet. Instructing him to sit, and not relieving him of his obvious curiosity, I somehow manage to tame his hair into a respectable man-ponytail. I fish a man's fedora (if not for Gelda I would probably own more men's fashion than women's) from the top of my wardrobe and place it, slightly askew, on his head. I hope that that will tame the remaining wispy ends.
"Sorry about that," I say as I step away. "I hate gel and hair ties," I pause as he rises, "and I really hate to do that to your hair," I admit.
I appraise his clothing again. There really is nothing to be done about it. "A coat will have to do," I sigh as I search through the small coat closet, looking for another victim of my man-clothing obsession.
I find a dark pea coat and instruct Jareth to put it on. He obliges me in silence. I surreptitiously check the length. Good. It is just long enough to hide how tight his trousers are in... certain areas. His slim trousers and knee-high boots actually look good with the pea coat and fedora, and the gloves match the style I unintentionally created. I give myself a mental pat on the back and guide Jareth to my full-length mirror.
"See, you look good."
I glance at the clock as Jareth appraises himself. It is approaching eight o'clock, so we have approximately two hours in which to shop.
One lesson on seatbelts later, Jareth and I enter the nearby mall. His expression is schooled, but I can tell he is drinking in the interesting human behavior all around us. I watch Jareth as I consider where to go.
"You are openly staring at me, Sarah," Jareth leans close to whisper in a mock incredulous tone.
"Is there anything wrong with staring at one's fiancé, openly or not?" I ask, reminding him of our game and because I want to relish calling him my fiancé.
Jareth is apparently pleasantly surprised by my assertive answer but changes the subject. "Where to, my love?"
"There is a high-end department store at the other end of the mall that is promising, and a men's department store on the way there that has business clothes—formal, dress, and casual. There are too middling stores right here, though, that we should look at first."
Jareth's facial expression remains almost neutral, but I can tell he is withholding a comment about the choice of store. The man is so spoiled!
"Sorry, but it is my money so you'll have to do this my way. I promise you don't have to get anything you don't want to, but we should at least look."
I take him by the hand and pull him toward the first store before he can protest.
I have no luck in the first two stores so, resigned, I guide Jareth to the men's business clothing store. I manage to convince him to select slacks that are not so snug on the condition that he can wear boots underneath. Along with the several pairs of slacks and a rather nondescript belt, a variety of collared shirts of varying formalities make their way into my arms. None are snug in the chest, so he can still wear his medallion underneath, and all of them are long-sleeved so his gloves will not seem as out-of-place. We go to the store at the end of the mall for a look-see and end up with a nothing more than a jacket.
It is ten o'clock and the stores areclosing. The hallway of the mall will beopen for another fifteen or thirty minutes as the lingering teenagers are herded out. We exit at the first opportunity even though that means walking outsidefor a while. The air is cool, but theheat of the day lingers despite the earlier rain shower so it is not frigidoutside. Of course, I forgot a jacketand I am still in my short dress and ballet-style shoes and that are not warmenough for this night. Jareth offers his—my—coat, but I refuse. We did not have time for him to changeclothes; I am not letting him be seen in public like that. He puts his arm around me instead and I letmyself savor the closeness. I am goingto be spoiled for two weeks. And then berather lonely afterward. At least I willhave Hoggle and Sir Didymus and Ludo and the goblins and the Labyrinth. I sigh.