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AC III Valentine Evenings	By : jinx1764 Category: G through L > Labyrinth Views: 1703 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I don't own Labyrinth, don't make any money, this is a work of fanfiction.

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AMELIORATION CHRONICLES - VALENTINE EVENINGS

CHAPTER 4 - Orinoco Flow

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Jareth watched his Sarah ... HIS Sarah, blast it all, leave her apartment and enter a strange car. What the devil? Why did she not drive her car? After departing her bedroom a short time ago, he'd transformed to his owl form and perched in a tree near her apartment parking lot to impatiently wait for her to emerge. After their emotional discussion throughout the night, Jareth believed they'd reached a new point in their relationship, and while he immensely disliked his promise not to hover over her, he truly considered the morning a fresh start in which to prove himself. Then Sarah immediately broke her own promise when she explained her plans for this evening, and he rushed to depart lest he lose all temper with her, doing or saying regretful things.

Determined to end this farce, Jareth conspired as soon as he'd teleported. Whatever his future queen plotted behind his back, he aimed to discover the truth of it straight away, promise notwithstanding. He rationalized his behavior less as stalking, choosing to classify it as necessary protection of their relationship. He decided he'd deal with the ramifications later. Surely Sarah would understand his need for this one exception.

"You really believe she'll accept that as an excuse?"

At this point, I won't bleeding bother about what she'll accept as long as she's mine!Jareth snapped at his inner voice, his external vocal cords emitting an edgy 'hoot' while he dug his talons deeper into the tree branch. His frustration at Sarah's mysterious activities gnawed ceaselessly at his temper.

"I feel your pain but, honestly, do you think this is the best solution? You did promise. Don't you trust her?

Grrrrr... No, I bloody well don't! She's seeing HIM again and I've lived too long without her to lose her to fickle human emotions.

"Well, at least you can admit it. That's the first step."Voice's tone was mildly condescending.

Oh, shut up you wanker, and stop distracting me. I've got business, so sod off!Jareth's inner voice grumbled a bit, but obeyed as he'd never heard Jareth curse in such a manner.

Oh, he cussed, but never like this and never in such a tone. It rather upset and worried his conscience. What possible catastrophe might Jareth scheme up if he ceased to take his advice? Not good, not good at all.

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Jareth spent the day alternating between his humanoid and his owl form while he followed Sarah at a discreet distance, which categorically, emphatically and in no way resembled stalking. When he was unable to observe her directly, he scried her. Currently, Jareth gazed into a crystal balanced on the tips of his gloved fingers as he watched Sarah go about her workday. Several of his goblins popped over to join him, while he lounged in a bit of shade on the roof of Sarah's office building.

"What's you do, Kingy?" Skittle asked, snuggling up to his monarch's thigh.

"I'm working on bringing our queen home." He never broke eye contact with Sarah's image within the sphere.

"Queenie come home soon?" Skittle asked eagerly. "Maybe Queenie bring more cake!"

"Yes, by the will of the Gods or the Fates and a bit of old fashioned goblin scheming."

"Huh?"

"Yes, Skittle, our queen will come home soon," Jareth replied in a soothing voice.

Skittle sighed and patted Jareth's thigh. "Good, Kingy need queenie."

"Never a truer statement uttered from your lips, my faithful little goblin," Jareth replied as he absentmindedly stroked Skittle's mohawk tuft of greenish-brown hair. It helped calm his apprehension. While he never tired of watching his Sarah, he grew keen for the evening's revealing nature. Exactly who was this friend of his Sarah's and the true character of their relationship?

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The drive through downtown Philadelphia during rush hour took longer than Sarah anticipated, putting her thirty minutes overdue with meeting Brad. She quickly called him by cell phone en route to inform him of the delay, and he told her not to worry. He told her to tell the guard at the entrance that she was his guest, then she'd be given directions inside. A short time later Sarah pulled up to the guard shack at the main entrance to the exclusive Corinthian Yacht Club, one of the oldest yacht clubs in the U.S. in continuous operation so, of course, membership must be a necessity for Brad's family.

Mentally shaking her head at the extravagance, Sarah informed the guard of her contact and showed her I.D. He immediately waved her through, after checking the guest list and giving her directions to boat slip, then muttering something like "You can't miss the sucker" but she wasn't sure she heard him correctly. She drove around for a few more minutes, winding through the small, manicured lawns, gardens and hidden parking lots filled with luxury cars. Money ... even if she won every big dollar case her entire career, she doubted she'd ever reach this level of financial reward.

"You don't have to. Jareth can just conjure whatever you want,"Tutu stated.

Geez, is money all you think about?

"No! I'm just saying, you don't have work your whole life. Hell, you don't have to work at all if you don't want.

I'm not having this conversation. I'm not a lawyer to get rich, not even to make a living, you know that.

"Blah, blah, blah, daddy issues, blah, blah, blah...move on already!"

Enough, Tutu,Sarah chided as she parked her affordable, yet stylish car, then walked towards the correct boat slip. The guard was right, Brad's yacht was impossible to miss.

"Holy inflatable life-preserver, Batman!" she exclaimed at the massive rich, big-boy toy.

"You like?" Brad's cheerful voice said from above her. She craned her neck back to see Brad smiling down at her as he leaned over the edge, one foot resting on the railing of the bow.

"Do I get points deducted if I play coy and say no?" She teased and he laughed, it was a nice laugh she realized.

"Keep walking down the pier and come aboard; the ramp is down." He told her and Sarah practically skipped aboard the immense, brilliant white yacht. Neither Brad nor Sarah noticed the barn owl glide to a landing on a nearby post. Concealed by the late dusk, the bird gradually snuck its way closer until it located a perch on the yacht which afforded a hidden view of the two occupants of its interest.

Brad escorted Sarah through his family's yacht, giving her the nickel tour. He pointed out the details and comforts of the luxury motor ship--just over 200 feet in length, four decks, a dozen crew including a French trained chef, Jacuzzi, steam room, gym, state-of-the-art electronics, and various water sports equipment, anything and everything a vacationing couple could need or desire. He explained how he'd placed them on the yacht club guest list and asked his crew to file a sailing plan for them detailing their route as Sarah requested. Only thing remaining was their arrival tomorrow morning, bags packed, and ready for five days of nautical freedom. The tour ended outside at the aft dining deck.

"And you're sure you don't mind us borrowing this for the week? You're sure I can't pay you something for expenses?"

Brad laughed and shook his head "Sarah, it's fine. Remember I trust you, besides the crew will take of the details. All you guys have to do is show up and not break anything. It's an all expense paid romantic cruise for two up and down the East coast."

"What about your parents? They don't mind?" she asked anxiously and he snorted.

"Please ... my parents rarely sail anymore; besides, I think they've forgotten we own this thing. They prefer the big yacht."

"What?" Sarah's eyes bugged, while Brad laughed pleasantly again.

"I'm kidding! Lighten up, Sarah. My parents are fine with it."

"Oh ... okay then." How he spoke so flippantly about a motor yacht worth millions sent Sarah's head spinning. She grew up with a father swamped by massive student loans; financial excess was not a concept familiar to her childhood home.

"How about a quick bite to eat before you go?" He nodded towards the outside deck table covered with a selection of appetizers and wine. She hesitated for a moment, thinking she should be getting back home, but she hadn't eaten since lunch and the shrimp en brochette smelled delicious.

"Maybe just a few bites before I go. Jareth's expecting me soon," she said as her mouth watered, and Brad pulled her seat out.

"I understand. I won't keep you long, but you've just got to try the stuffed mushrooms, Chef Danielle is a culinary genius!" he said, claiming a seat across from her and helping himself to the various finger foods.

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The owl watched Sarah wander through the large ship led by the youngish-looking, dark blonde and entirely too attractive male specimen of the human race whose hands seemed a bit too ... well, handsy for Jareth's preference. The man constantly touched Sarah's arms or shoulder, and once he even dared place a hand to the small of her back as she exited a room before him. Jareth's beak smacked the glass window when he lunged at that little maneuver. Fortunately his miscalculation drew no attention from the couple as they'd left the room, while Jareth ground his beak and flew to a new perch.

Able to hear only fragments of their conversation, Jareth constantly repositioned himself for optimum visual and aural exposure, and possibly talon and beak exposure, too. This friend appeared rather soft around the eyes, a perfect landing zone for the sharp, keratin areas of his avian body. Then she sat down to dine with him ... again? This was her business errand? Touring this large ship and enjoying another romantic dinner!

Jareth seethed inside his smaller form, feathers fluffing at the ruff of his neck and pupils shrinking to pinpoints. The only thing restraining him from attacking this pathetic rival was Sarah's own presence. He refused to allow her to witness his loss of control but rest assured this betrayal would not stand.

Jareth settled directly on the wood deck several feet away from their table, allowing the keep shadows to subsume him. A bit of time passed as they ate, then Sarah stood and Jareth heard her tell this man, by the name of Brad, how wonderful her time spent in his company had been and how she hoped to see him again soon. And of all the travesties ... she hugged him then kissed him ... not on the lips and briefly but really ... kissing ... this ... this ... mortal!

How could she? A loud yet short, high-pitched, raptor shriek escaped him before he could help himself, forcing him to scramble behind a large box-like deck protrusion as Sarah and her male friend turned in his direction at the sound.

Shrugging, they turned away from his hiding place, and Jareth watched as Brad escorted HIS Sarah off the boat and to her car. They spoke for a few more minutes, then she drove off and Brad returned to the boat. Jareth struggled with the decision whether or not to follow Sarah before choosing to remain on the boat. Sarah likely would be returning home now and he'd finally discovered her secret. It was time to take care of the problem--hy name be Brad.

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Brad's first sensations of awareness consisted of how cold he felt, the crisp air, the icy floor beneath him, and the frigid dampness soaking his clothes. He cracked open his eyelids, but his surroundings remained thick black and an acute fear of blindness shot through his gut. He blinked several times until a few bits of partial gray differentiated, and he realized he wasn't blind but merely somewhere absent of light. Placing his palms flat to the floor, which felt like dirt, he pushed his torso upright, feeling several vertebra popping on the way up, and stretched out his other senses.

"Hello?" he called out. Where was he? What did he remember ... Sarah. He walked Sarah to her car, then he returned to his yacht. He remembered stopping when he noticed several fresh, deep gouges in the wood deck and then ... nothing. Had someone kidnapped him? Unusual, but not unheard of for the rich to be kidnapped from their own secure property, but Brad had never put much stock into such horror stories. Yet here he sat in some dank hole.

"It's known as an oubliette," a deep, male voice stated, and Brad spun in place to his left, ending up on his knees in a crouched position.

"Who are you? Why've you kidnapped me?" he demanded of the voice. A bright light suddenly flared several feet in front of Brad's face, and he flinched in pain shielding his eyes with his arms.

"I'll be asking the questions, Bradley, and if I dislike your answers ... well, pray to your god that I don't."

As Brad's eyes adjusted he saw a thin, pale masculine face topped by long, feathery hair of soft blonde materialize in the bleaching glow of the light. This man appeared human, but instinctively Brad knew he was significantly more. The power radiating from him made the skin on the nape of Brad's neck tingle and the hair on his arms rise. Odd, moving shadows were cast upon the walls, accompanied by echoing snickering and scuffles. He'd never experienced true dread before, but at that moment Bradley Dwellington III knew what it was fear.
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AC III Valentine Evenings