A/N: Sierra wanted me to write something happy. So here it is!....I think.
Humming a soft tune as she placed the last dozen of Disney Enchanted paper cups in the trash bin, Sarah looked up and stretched her back, looking around at the nearly cleaned living room, much more tidied up than the havoc it was a couple of hours ago. Today had been Elliot Williams' 8th birthday, and since Karen and dad's house was a mess due to the new nursery they were building for the third step-sibling on the way, Sarah had generously lent the house for the party. Being born when Sarah was 17, Elliot had been lucky to only know the more mature, gentle side of Sarah Williams, the Sarah who had long ago learnt a lesson about the power of words, taking things for granted, and how not everything was as it seemed.
Carrying the dirty dishes to the sink and turning on the faucet, Sarah started to sway her hips and drumming her fingers to the sound of the music playing softly in the living room, and as she waited for the water to warm up she closed her eyes and remembered opulent swishing dresses, a crystal ballroom and strong arms leading her steps, the thick scent of cinnamon, leather and exotic spices Sarah was sure she would never find - not in this world, at least.
Her thoughts then went to the living room, where a music box sat in her coffee table playing the melody she knew all too well, and Sarah vaguely recalled the morning she awoke to the sound of a song that only belonged in her past - or in her dreams - and went down the stairs to find the beautiful, albeit simple, wood and silver music box sitting in her kitchen counter with a silver barn owl encrusted on the lid and Celtic designs carved throughout the box. Throwing a knowing glance at the glitter surrounding the offering, Sarah had a pretty good guess as to who had sent her this generous gift.
So, every evening, as Sarah lounged around the house with any of her preferred drinks cradled in her soft hands and long fingers - be it wine, tea or hot cocoa - she would keep the precious music box playing, making sure it was reflected in her living room mirror.
Done with the dishes, Sarah glanced to the clock in the oven and stretched her lips into a contented smile, going to the other side of the kitchen to dry her hands on the dry dishrag hanging pm the wall. As she removed her apron and tossed it to the nearest bench, she entered the living room.
Normally, after cleaning her whole house after a birthday party as big as this one, all with the confetti, paper cups and the glitter - she should be feeling pretty tired by now, and would want nothing but her favourite lemon tea and Merlin's comforting presence by her feet as she curled up in her comfortable couch, reading one of her newest books or one of her old favourites.
But today, after seeing young girls with wide dreamy eyes and princess dresses, cooing about balls and enchanted castles with their prince charming as they played with the confetti and painted themselves with glitter, as she recalled the smell of cinnamon, leather and expensive spices and the melody that belonged in mask balls and crystals - for now, all Sarah wanted was to feel like she was 15 again, clad with jewelry and silk dresses, dancing in the arms of someone powerful and mysterious, who didn't treat her as a petulant child but as a woman to be feared and respected and loved.
With that thought in mind, Sarah rolled up the sleeves of her blouse and removed her ballerina flats, and five minutes later she straightened up with her hands on her hips to admire her handiwork. The coffee table, the couches and the chair had been dragged until they rested against the wall, giving more space in the middle of the room. Had Karen been there, she would immediately complain about how the furniture would scratch paint marks on the smooth white wall, but Sarah didn't care. Karen wasn't the person Sarah wanted there in her living room right now.
Placing her hand on an invisible shoulder before her and holding her right one in mid-air, as if she was indeed holding someone's hand, Sarah took a deep breath, and started to dance.
After a few minutes fumbling on the carpeted floor and the occasional collision with the furniture, which resulted in many toes that would be very bruised tomorrow, Sarah opened her eyes and dropped her arms with a frustrated huff. Reaching for the now silent music box, Sarah twisted the wind-up key as tight as it could to continue playing. A soft whine coming from behind her alerted the brunette that she was being watched. Turning around, she raised an eyebrow at Merlin as he tilted his head in an expression that clearly translated to: What the hell are you doing?
"What?" She demanded in an exasperated voice. Merlin merely stretched his old body on the floor and rested his head on his front paws, blinking at her.
"Don't you give me that look. If I could, I'd turn you into my dance partner with-" magic.' Pursing her lips into a thin line, she turned to the shelf by the fireplace and grabbed Merlin's rubber toy. "...Never mind." Pulling back her arm, she threw the toy as far as she could, nodding as Merlin sprung up from the floor and dashed across the house to catch the squeaky toy. "There you go. Peace and quiet." A few moments later, Sarah continued with her make believe dance, this time paying attention to the hazardous, still furniture - but maintaining her eyes closed.
After all, if she couldn't see there was no one in front of her, she could pretend there there was with less difficulty.
Just as she was ready to finally give up and return to her dull reality, there was a shift in the air, the click of a window opening, the whisper of dust -
(glitter, tra la la?)
brushing her arms and cheeks, and the sudden wave of an addictive smell of cinnamon, leather and spices flooding her senses. Warm air fanned her face, the imaginary grip on her waist and hand became very much real, and her once uncertain and fumbling steps were swiftly guided into a smooth, fluid dance, as if she was born to dance to the sound of this one song. Wondering if she had finally lost it, or if her imagination was just that good, she hesitantly flexed her fingers, gasping at the feel of hard muscle covered in warm leather. Before she could stop herself, Sarah opened her eyes and snapped her head up.
Mismatched blue eyes looked down at her, glowing with mirth as the curl of his lips equally betrayed his amusement.
"One would think," His deep, smooth voice drawled out as he led Sarah to spin around. "That this kind of dance is meant to be done in pairs, precious." Returning to the smooth, strong cradle of his arms, all she could do was to gape at him with a somewhat dazed look.
"What's the matter, pet?" He tutted, never breaking his stance as he led her throughout the room that Sarah could have sworn was a lot smaller a few minutes ago. "Cat ate your tongue?"
Gathering the mush that used to be her wits, Sarah flexed her hand around his, feeling him flex back.
"Jareth."
A/N: Please don't kill me?
Guys, I hate to do this, but it must be done. In my other laby fic, Lèse Majesté, around 15 people favourited and even more put it on alert, but I only have 7 reviews. So, the next - and final - chapter is already half done, but I'll only post it when I have 10 reviews.
I'm so sorry guys! :(