~~Monday~~ "Hello, you've reached the Love Shack! Sugar Plum speaking. How may I make your love dreams a reality?" Her voice is as bubbly as ever, and Bog can't wait to crush all hope within her at the end of this week. After a long pause, he gruffly responds, "Plum."  He smirks when he hears her muffled gasp; she remembers his voice. Perfect.  As he casually leans back in his leather office chair, he can't hide the sarcasm. "So good of you to answer my phone call after I've been trying to reach you for the last two months. I'm sure you have the money you owe the bank now." "You, you didn't call from your office," she stammers, her voice small. He grins wider; never has he enjoyed being evil more. "Insanity is doing the same thing over and over again and expecting a different result." He pauses before he airily adds, "Not that you could tell me that since your whole business is founded on insanity and false promises, so I'm not surprised that you're still bankrupt." "Who said I was?" she responds indignantly, much louder now. This is more like her.  It doesn't change how he feels or speaks. She's just upset that he is going to have the final say, and he's excited to rub it in her face. He's been waiting five years to exact his revenge on Plum, and now he will. This pink-loving, annoying, lie-peddling fairy of a woman hasn't made a payment in months, and now it's his time to shine. He'll stomp on in with his trusty staff (he likes fighting, and it scares everyone since it was gnarly) and close her down at last. His two tellers-turned tax associates-turned friends, Stuff and Thang, are at his door, watching with figurative popcorn as he uses Thang's phone, and when they see him lean forward with satisfaction, they jump backward, recognizing that look.  Bog King is about to gleefully ruin someone's life.  It's all a part of the business. He helps co-own Dark Forest Bank, a small, independent bank, with his mother, and it's his job to be the bad guy, getting the money owed and making sure they stay afloat.  He loves being the bad guy. He hates chasing after so many people and barely getting by since people are slowly leaving their bank for larger institutions with more options. It's people like Plum who make him seriously consider leaving the banking industry and do his first love, taxes, because he's also tired of dealing with these people. He just wants to play with numbers all day.  He flashes his friends a knowing look, used to saying these words to others. "You haven't sent any money my way, and since you've been reading all of my friendly email reminders, you know that you owe me money by Friday, or else I'm shutting you down permanently…and you know how much I'm looking forward to doing that." Everyone who hears him say such things always tells him that he has a black heart, and he likes to joke that it is as dark and menacing as his office, just the way he prefers it. The room in question contains three black leather chairs, a mahogany desk, and countless shrubs and small trees. He likes his dark/gray and earthy tones because it reminds him of his favorite place to be: the forest.  "Because you don't want anyone to be happy or to find love, you vengeful, evil man!" Plum protests, something slamming in the background.  "Yes." He smiles because he is proud of his disdain for love; she made him like that, so she should know. "Because I'm evil…my middle name is misery, and I want it to be yours since you ruined all my chances for love and happiness. I wear the moniker of evil proudly " "You don't understand," she wheedles, sounding like she has countless other times.  "No, you don't," he rumbles, growing louder. His friends back away slowly. "You're a quack, and the sooner you stop this cash grab taking advantage of weak people, the better. I'm doing the world a favor." "But, but the world needs hope and love and–" "The world needs to wake up to reality," he interrupts, pinching his nose. "Just like you do. All you want to do is cause more chaos and broken hearts. At the close of business on Friday, I intend to visit your little ol' shack in the middle of nowhere and deliver your foreclosure notice personally." He winces at himself for even mentioning the song lyrics used in the commercial for Plum's terrible excuse for a business. Already he knows that his friends will make fun of him for breaking his own rule.  "There'll be no need," she insists primly. "I'll have the money. You'll see. So go take your trouble elsewhere." He pulls out the foreclosure notice he made especially for her, and excitement fills him as he lays it carefully on his desk. "We'll see. If you're lookin' for trouble, you came to the right place. Good bye." At least he is trying to make references to better songs; Plum's taste in music is poor, if her ad music is any indication.  Once he hangs up, he tosses the phone to Thang, who scrambles forward, clumsily juggles the phone, and then drops the thing. He's slim with light brown hair, but Bog is thinner yet, with dark, almost black brown hair that he doesn't style.  "Whoops, sorry, should go eat my mushrooms," rambles Thang, bending before straightening. "All's well that ends well, right, boss?" He grins as he adds, "So I guess you're excited to visit that funky little shack with its rusted tin roof in a few days?" Bog sighs, knowing this was coming. "Of course I'm excited, but no annoying pop song references!" Stuff snickers as he shakes a finger at Thang, and both pale in silence as he stands, showing how much taller he is. "Especially anything related to Plum. You weren't there with me at that hellsite, and if you were, you'd hate it, too. Get out and take your poor taste in music with you." With a groan, Bog sits and glances at the manila folder sitting on the corner of his desk. If he signs it and convinces his mother to do so, she could retire, and he'd have enough money from being bought out that he could start his own tax business. The pair bicker at the doorway like an old couple, and Bog wonders yet again why they always insist on arguing in his doorway. Based on how Stuff keeps saying that she'll handle "it" and tell him, he's guessing that they're discussing work stuff. "Yes?" he finally intones, tired of it all.  "Boss," calls out Thang after Stuff suddenly tells him to say it. "What happens if Plum defaults?" Boss closes his eyes and winces. "Then we're going to have to do a lot more tax returns for our current members to stay afloat, or take on additional clients quietly. Or I just sell out and escape all this." "And if she does somehow get the money?" continues Thang, backing away slowly.  "Then we scrape by and don't have to do more since we did so much during tax season…or I could still sell and not deal with her and her annoyingly happy smugness anymore," says Bog, sitting up. "Either way, selling out grows more appealing by the day, even if this was my dad's dream." "You should talk to Griselda about that," suggests Stuff, giving him a worried look.  "And let her give me yet another lecture about why she doesn't have any grand babies yet? No thank you," mumbles Bog emphatically, making the other two laugh.  "I'm just saying…you may be wrong about this place, love, and pop music," responds Stuff before she leaves with Thang.  "That's ridiculous," he replies, shaking his head. "Next you'll tell me that someone exists out there who actually likes fencing and my type of music. You're as bad as my mother. Go take your talk of love elsewhere before it rots my brain further or becomes even more dangerous. Come talk to me when you're ready to have a serious conversation." He's left alone for the rest of his day, just as he likes it. No matter how much he dismisses most of what Stuff says, though, he still schedules a meeting with his mother.  —---------- Since it's Monday night, Marianne is at her weekly fencing practice with her private coach. One day soon, she'll be ready to join the private fencing club and kick some butt. Until then, she grunts and practices in her specially designed room with her coach, pretending that her coach is Roland so she can take out all her anger on this woman instead.  They're in the midst of practicing with her blindfolded when her doorbell rings. When the door opens soon after, Marianne knows it must be either Dawn or her father since they're the only ones with keys to her house, and based on the heavy footfalls and lack of sing-song voice, it must be her father.  Seconds later, her assumption is verified. "Marianne!" "I'm kind of busy," she replies, motioning to her rapier.  "This will only take a moment," he insists, his voice growing louder and closer. "Please." She lifts her blindfold and faces him, noting the concern in his wrinkled face. "Okay. What is it?" He points at her with his usual imperious look that he reserves for running the family business. "The annual summer debutante ball is tomorrow night. I want you–" With a full-bodied laugh, she throws her head back in amusement. "After the last few balls that I've attended? Are you kidding me?" she asks dismissively, going back to trading blows with her coach.  She remembers her first debutante ball well; that was the night she met Roland, the beginning of all her problems. He was fresh from college with his MBA, with shiny, golden locks and a smile that fooled all, especially her family.  Within a year of meeting him, they were engaged, and he was working side by side with her to help her prepare to take over the business for her father when he retired. It was the day before the wedding, though, that she was running some numbers at work and realized that they had lost a significant amount of money due to a suggestion from Roland (and somehow it ended up all in his bank account), so she left to ask him about it.  But she never asked him.  "Marianne, you're a unique girl." Her father sounds a little meeker now thankfully. "Roland may have a few flaws–" "That's an understatement," she scoffs, shaking her head and swinging harder.  She still remembers that fateful day so clearly.  She had rushed over to Roland's apartment, having a key even if he always visited her. The place was in the pricier part of town, but surprisingly, his door was open and slightly ajar. She cautiously entered, worried that someone had robbed him, only to discover an absolute pigsty. Moving faster, she rushed past the kitchen to the bedroom, only to come to a screeching halt.  There sat Roland, half-naked and sitting on his bed, passionately kissing another woman.  "Don't worry, honey bunny," he whispered between kisses. "As soon as I'm married, I'll buy you whatever you want. Another apartment, jewels, clothing, you name it. I'll get the money without question and not have to siphon it away like I currently do." "You monster!" cried Marianne, picking up a frying pan with dried egg bits in it and throwing it at his head. "The wedding's off." She barely made it out of the apartment's parking lot when her favorite playlist started, Panic! At The Disco's "I Write Sins Not Tragedies" blaring.  "What a shame the poor groom's bride is a whore." Marianne busted out laughing. "Rather the opposite here, but close enough. I dodged that bullet. I mean, technically, our marriage is saved." She raised her hand in salute. "Well, this calls for a toast, so pour the champagne." Within an hour of getting home, she was belligerent and drunk, and she had managed to set everything from Roland on fire in her fireplace while singing Dionne Warwick and declaring how she would never fall in love again.  She has hated Roland ever since; the only thing she hates just as much is pop music. It reminds her too much of him.   "But he still loves you!" insists her father, moving to face her with a pleading look.  "He loves our money and his hair, and not in that order," she grouses, waving him away.  "But if not Roland, then who?" he asks, now confused and worried as he stands there helplessly. "There has to be someone else." "No, there doesn't," she returns, blocking a few more thrusts.  "Let it go, Dad," she requests for the millionth time, pursing her lips.  "You'll be a stronger business owner with a partner at your side," he states with more force.  Once upon a time, that would have made her stop in her tracks. Now, she's heard it enough times that she's tired of hearing it. "I'm stronger alone," she proclaims, striking again and getting the final point.  She turns around just in time to see his shoulders droop, sadness filling his features. "I don't want you to be alone," he says, speaking from experience.  Her mother died soon after Dawn was born, and her father never remarried since he was so devoted to her. It's so rare he shows his sorrow, so it still shocks her to see it. He's always walked, talked, and acted like a proper Southern gentleman, so there was very little discussion of emotions growing up. This is about as close as she will get for another year.  Understanding the gravity of the situation and why he has pushed her so much in the last year, she approaches carefully. "Dad, I promise that if I find a guy out there who takes my hand, looks me in the eye, and I don't want to hit him, I'll consider him." She places both hands on his shoulders. "But that guy doesn't exist." He sighs in resignation, knowing that with her stubbornness, this is as good as it's going to get. With a nod, he accepts that, and then he makes another request with a pleading look. "Then help me keep an eye on that flirtatious sister of yours." Dawn, oh, Dawn. She is the light and life of the family, a literal ray of sunshine, the eternal optimist, and the most boy-crazy lady there is. She's also far too trusting; her only saving grace is that she has Sunny for her best friend. He's from the wrong side of the tracks and doesn't make much money, so their dad doesn't approve, but he knows everyone and is devoted to Dawn.  Unfortunately, Dawn is oblivious to his love, so instead he acts as her wingman, trying to set her up with guys and enabling her boy-crazy ways.  Marianne has zero desire to attend the ball, but she knows she needs to keep an eye out for any other players or douchebags like Roland. Gritting her teeth, she glares at her father but gives him the slightest of nods, leading him to embrace her. "That's my girl," he says gratefully. "Thank you." "But if Roland appears, I'm leaving," she warns.  Her father smiles before leaving. "Of course." —------Tuesday------- Marianne regrets coming to the ball within five minutes of arriving.  There are too many stuffy people, ridiculous dresses, and judgemental looks being thrown her way. She had always been a tomboy and never quite fit in with the other debutantes that had been her friends, so she used to have insecurities about not being good or pretty enough. Dating Roland had been a weird set of contrasts: she thought she was more secure with him but in truth, he made her more insecure. It was only afterward as she embraced everything she had loved and had been told was not ladylike or appropriate by Roland that she realized she was more than enough and did not need a man. She's different and proud to be so now.  In that way, she ought to thank Roland for waking her up. She learned to love and respect herself, and she finally learned how to fence and fight so that she could beat up Roland. Even now, she enters in a purple cocktail dress (no more of those big, fancy Southern Belle dresses that are impossible to walk in, thank you very much), carrying a family heirloom sword at her side; thankfully enough people have questioned her to know that she won't hurt a soul.  "Marianne, follow me. It's your sister," says her father, taking her arm.  She's not surprised that he tries coaching her to smile more until she finally tells him that she is smiling and happy.  "I hope you're happy enough to dance with your father," he replies seriously.  "Or…someone even better," interrupts a familiar voice, making her gasp.   She should have known it was a terrible idea to warn her father that she planned to leave if she saw Roland; sadly her father still has the wool pulled over his eyes by the sweet talk of Roland despite all the money being gone and never returned and must have warned the lying pig.  There at the bottom of the stairs is Roland, and one of his cronies closes the door behind her, forcing her to stay a little longer. No matter. Maybe she'll finally get to use her blade on Roland.  Roland swirls about dramatically before commencing to sing in his horribly off voice, "Honey came in, and she caught me red-handed creeping with the girl next door." "Roland! You cannot be serious. This song?" Marianne grumbles, glaring at Roland.  Ever since she broke off the engagement, Roland has tried to weasel his way back in. If it weren't for her father begging her not to, she would have filed a restraining order by now. She's tempted now. Her father winces at the image of Roland naked; does the guy have no shame? Still, the jerk drones on. "Gonna tell her that I'm sorry for the pain that I've caused–" "I'm still waiting for that apology," she calls brightly with a big, fake smile.  He rushes up to her and tries to kiss her, so she elbows him in the stomach and kicks him in the groin. It's the best feeling ever, especially when it stops his singing momentarily.  Nonetheless, he plows on like a fly in search of dung, and he smells like he's been playing in it. "You may think that I'm a player, but you're completely lost. That's why I sing." "You are a player!" she cries over his singing. "And a liar, a cheater, and more!" He doesn't stop, though, laser-focused on her until the end. "All this time she was standing there. She never took her eyes off me." He looks smug, as though pleased that she is still listening to him. She's never seen anything so pathetic or annoying. "Hey, it was only one little mistake," he says airily with a careless shrug.  "Little?" she repeats, stomping toward him. "You got a lot of nerve coming in here." Roland always had poor taste in music, preferring some really awful or silly pop music. Ever since the breakup, though, she has embraced her quirky tastes, as well as immersed herself in Taylor Swift and Kelly Clarkson.  If he's going to sing, then she's going to sing right back at him in his face about how much she doesn't need him. At this point, she's already embarrassed herself; she can't muck things up any worse.  Pointing a finger at Roland's chest, she sings, "You think you got the best of me. Think you've had the last laugh. Bet you think that everything good is gone." "Now, now, Marianne," he stammers, starting to lose his cool. "Think you left me broken down. Think that I'll come running back. Baby, you don't know me, 'cause you're dead wrong." She pauses for dramatic effect before pushing him to the floor. "What doesn't kill you makes you stronger. Stand a little taller." He crawls backward, and she kicks the air triumphantly before turning away. "Doesn't mean I'm lonely when I'm alone." "But–" She faces Roland again, fists at the ready. "What doesn't kill you makes a fighter. Footsteps even lighter. Doesn't mean I'm over 'cause you're gone." "It wasn't me," he denies, and she charges toward him, a hand at her sword.  "What doesn't kill you makes you stronger, stronger. Just me, myself and I." She sings, and he keeps on denying it, as though repeating the lie will somehow make it true. He sees her anger, though, so he keeps on retreating toward the only door in the ballroom, and she chases him there.  It's only when his back is against the door that she finishes by singing, "Thanks to you I got a new thing started. Thanks to you I'm not the broken hearted. Thanks to you I'm finally thinkin' 'bout me. You know in the end the day you left was just my beginning." Lunging forward, she yanks the door open and shoves him out. "And now it's time to say goodbye!" With a satisfying slam, she notes that his fancy, green cloak is stuck in the door, eventually getting ripped as Roland tries to escape. Turning around, she faces her father and Dawn. "Now that was fun!" Her father looks like he wants to facepalm, and Dawn's staring at her feet, no longer flirting with men.  "Well, that was awkward," says Dawn before facing the crowd. "So who wants to dance? I wanna dance with somebody." —------- As the string quartet restarts, Roland bemoans his ruined garment, only to have the door slammed in his face by his lackeys. "Well, Marianne slammed him really good, didn't she?" "Yeah, he'll never own that company now." "Are you saying what I think you're saying?" grits out Roland, staring at them.  "Nope! Long live Roland, the most cunning businessman there is! You just need to go visit that Love Shack on the highway with Marianne–" Roland roars in their faces, "Are you saying that I need help to win Marianne?!" "No, no!" shouts one of them. "Just kidding. It was just a joke. Bye!" And the three disappear, leaving him steaming. After he does his usual breathing and visualization exercises, he has calmed down, only for the door to slam in his face once more. As the shorter man stares longingly at Dawn while she belts out Whitney Houston, Roland gets an idea.  "Are you alright there, little guy?" he asks, not remembering his name.  "Yes, I am…no," groans the short, elf-like guy, closing his eyes in despair. "Hey, I know exactly how you feel," he says, trying to win the little dude over. He almost loses his cool at being reminded of his earlier failure, but soon he is fake-crying a short distance away, short stuff nearby to comfort him. "I wish there was a way to make her fall in love with me," fake-sobs Roland, hiding his eyes. "Yeah, me too," admits the other guy, glancing at Dawn.  "Like I don’t know, maybe something like the Love Shack," continues Roland, grinning and patting his back as the dwarf repeats the magic words. "Great idea!" "It is a great idea, except it'll never work!" exclaims the Debbie Downer, throwing up his hands. "The Love Shack is two hours away, and we'll never convince the ladies to drive that far alone with us, especially Marianne." "Then we will bring others. Don't worry about Marianne; I'll convince her through her father to go," explains Roland confidently, standing. "He always listens to me." "While Dawn may want to go to the famous Love Shack, Marianne would never willingly step foot in that place," reminds the little man, whose concern is waved off by Roland. "Of course not. That's why we tell her and the rest that we're going to Six Flags for the weekend," says Roland, quite happy now that a plan has formed in his mind. "I'll rent a big car that can seat about twenty, and you bring the jukebox money." He falls to his knees. "Please do this with me. It's the only way we can both convince our girls that we love them. Say you'll make the reservation for this weekend, please?" "Sure, I can do that," agrees the guy at last, and Roland rejoices that he won't have to spend any more money that he doesn't have.  "That would be perfect! Then we both can use the Love Shack and get what we want! C'mere, man!" cries Roland, trying to embrace him, only for him to wiggle away. "No thanks. I'll call tomorrow. How many others will we invite?" "My three best friends and three other friends of the girls; that'll look legit," decides Roland, and they part ways. —------Wednesday—---- Sugar Plum loves love. Everything about it. Seeing people with stars in their eyes, watching them fall in love, listening to people sing their hearts out. Love is a grand adventure that she hopes everyone can experience with her help.  Sadly, ever since Bog King came to visit and left his awful review, few people have visited her lovely little shack. It feels as though he's put a curse on the place, locking her away from doing what she loves. It's a shame, really.  Just as she's beginning to despair about losing her shack, she gets a call early in the morning. "Hello, you've reached the Love Shack! Sugar Plum speaking. How may I make your love dreams a reality?" The only thing she loves more than love is pink; it's why her entire room and shack decor are in shades of pink and red. Pulling out a hot pink pen and notebook, she stares hopefully at the salmon receiver.  "Hi, my name is Sunny. Do you have any openings this weekend?" She could dance a jig, as happy as she is! "As a matter of fact, I do! When can you arrive, and how many do you expect to be joining me this weekend? I want to make sure I have the very best accommodations for you when you get here!" she says, writing down his name and number. "There will be ten of us. Is that too many?" he asks, and she pumps a fist in excitement.  If everyone ends up finding love, that would be just enough money to cover what she owes to Dark Forest Bank. Take that, Evil Goblin Overlord! "Not at all!" she chirps happily. "I've got plenty more space if you decide to bring anyone else! Now, is there a certain someone who's coming this weekend that you're…particularly interested in so I can try to help you?" she asks sweetly.  After Sunny explains Dawn and then Roland and Marianne, he gives her half the cost upfront, giving her some help for buying food and having some money ready for Bog. After they hang up, she joyfully cleans the place, doing cartwheels and singing her heart out as she ponders ways to help Sunny.  Based on the rather dubious and distrustful description of that Roland fellow, she doesn't think she'll be helping him. If anything, she'll try to distract him and convince Marianne to go elsewhere. But first matters first. She would meet them all and then decide how best to pair them off.  In the meantime, she has a special phone call to make.  "Dark Forest Bank. How may I help you, Plum? Ready to sign your deed away to me?" She titters. If only she could convince him to come visit whole other women were there. "No. As a matter of fact, I've called to request an extension. I just had a party of ten make a reservation for the weekend, which would cover all that you need. Could you please visit my place of business on Sunday?" "No can do–" "Please?" she begs, drawing out the word. "Just a couple more days?" She's about to say more, but then a muffled female voice that sounds like Griselda whispers harshly to her son.  "Fine," agrees Bog eventually, and Sugar dances in her seat. "But with one condition: I'm allowed to show up at any time to inspect the proceedings." Jackpot. Smirking, she rubs her hands in anticipation. "Come as early or late as you want. I'll be ready to host you. Until the weekend!" If there's any possibility at all that Bog arrives on Friday, she fully intends to pair him off. With some bad weather promising close quarters, it's just a matter of finding the perfect girl… —----Friday—----- "C'mon, Marianne! We are wasting daylight, Buttercup. It's time to go to Six Flags!" whines Roland, much to her displeasure.  "You can always leave without me!" she tries one more time, still not happy about going on this sudden trip. "I hear there's a really terrible thunderstorm heading that way." Unlike Dawn the heavy packer with two full suitcases, Marianne has one duffel bag for the weekend ahead. Ignoring all of the years of debutante training that she was forced to do, she stomps forward, bag and blade popping up as she strides purposely to Roland. She is determined to lay down some ground rules before leaving as Dawn leans casually over Marianne's jeep, chatting freely with Sunny.  "No can do, Buttercup! I already told the weather that it is not allowed to rain on our parade. You two sisters are the most important part of this trip, so you are going!" insists Roland, spreading his arms wide. Once she is close, he reaches toward her, looking smug. "Of course, I knew you would come–" "Which is exactly why I am driving myself, Dawn, and Sunny. You can take everyone else in that giant monstrosity–" "Hey, my Chrysler is pretty sweet, okay?" He motions dramatically. "It seats about twenty–" Why does that phrase sound familiar? It sits in the pit of her stomach, but she can’t place why.  She cuts him off with a hand gesture. "That's over exaggeration, as per your usual lying. Get over yourself. I refuse to drive with you because I don't trust you. And because of that, I have another important rule before we start this trip,"  "Anything to make you happy, Buttercup," says Roland with a too-large smile, twirling his gold locks and failing to impress her anymore.  One day she'll prove it's a wig or else find some way to absolutely tarnish his hair. Chewing gum sounds better by the day… "Since it's a busy highway and amusement park, we stick together no matter what," she intones. "You got it? If one needs to stop, we both do. No one goes wandering off alone. And if the weather gets bad, we pull off to the side of the road; I don't want you to cause another accident because you're too cocky." "You got it, Sweet Pea. You look so cute when you give silly rules like that," coos Roland, enraging her as he salutes her. "We always stick together, even in bad weather." With a shove at his chest, she leaves, stopping Sunny from failing at flirting yet again as she tells her two passengers to get inside.  Rolands quiets the rest of the group by stepping in front of them. "I'll lead the pack. C'mon gang! Hop in my Chrysler. It's as big as a whale, and it's about to set sail!" Again, why does that phrase set off alarm bells in her mind? Marianne is concerned as he waves everyone inside, and she grumpily buckles in, glaring at Roland with hunched shoulders.  "Are you two going to get settled back there or not?" she barks at the pair in the back as Sunny tries to find Dawn's charging cord in his bag.  "Marianne, chill! It's just Six Flags, not your doom," responds Dawn, waving her hand. "Nothing's going to happen this weekend. Sunny has personally assured me that it will be a good, fun weekend of bonding." "That's what I'm afraid of," grumbles Marianne, sighing as the two find cookies instead of buckling up. "Forced bonding with Roland. It's an even number. I refuse to be near him longer than necessary." "It'll be fine," assures both Dawn and Sunny.  "So you say…and then he forces me to get close to him since he knows I don't like heights," insists Marianne, not trusting Roland.  "You won't let Roland do that, right?" asks Dawn, turning a pleading look to Sunny. "I want Marianne to have fun this weekend." "I promise I won't let him do anything bad like that," vows Sunny, noting how Dawn's lips are still trembling. Softly, he begins singing his favorite song, "Don't worry 'bout a thing…cause every little thing is gonna be alright." The next hour and a half is spent singing to all of Marianne's music as she follows behind speed demon Roland, and nothing really bothers her until a pink nightmare of a billboard on the side of the road appears. "What's that faded eyesore of a sign say?" asks Marianne, squinting as her car nears it. "It's so…glittery." "I was going to say pink, but that works, too," chimes in Sunny, scratching his head. "It's more pink than I expected." His word choice strikes Marianne as odd, but she lets it go. "I think it's beautiful! A fine, old work of art," declares Dawn happily, leaning out the window to snap a selfie with the gaudy thing. Of course Dawn would love it…half of her wardrobe is baby blue and pastels, and the other half is pink. Today is no exception, a blue tank with hot pink lipstick and shorts. Sunny prefers his earthy greens for the shorts and t-shirt, as it's hot as an oven outside Atlanta.  "It's the first sign we've seen in a little bit, and it's a little over dramatic for my taste," decides Marianne, ready to dismiss it as she shakes her head and focuses on the looming, dark gray storm clouds ahead.  "Nonsense! It has an important message to share," replies her sister as she reviews the image on her smartphone, smiling at the result. "It says, 'Fifteen miles to the Love Shack!' Can you believe it?" She practically squeals the last part, and Marianne wants to cover her ears. "Are you trying to tell me that that stupid song you used to sing is actually based on a real place?"  The disdain in her voice makes Sunny cringe and nod sadly, but Dawn doesn't seem to notice as she grins and positively vibrates in her seat.  "It sure is! It's the mythical Love Shack!" says Dawn, pointing ahead. "We're less than fifteen minutes from it, and you can already see the glitter on the highway and grass." She leans forward until her head is almost in line with Marianne's, her eyes wide ajd pleading. "I hear it makes all your dreams of love a reality! Can we visit it? Please?" "No. Absolutely not. I never want to visit it," replies Marianne, glaring at her sister. "Love is a lie used to manipulate people and keep them weak." "But Marianne–" "Maybe just a brief stop?" requests Sunny, eyeing her pleadingly as well, and Marianne stares at him.  "No. Not unless forced, which we could be if this storm moves any faster, " says Marianne, turning her gaze to the front windshield.  Minutes later, a thunderstorm warning blasts over everyone's phones, hail and other nastiness imminent, and Marianne starts to worry.  "We have bigger concerns right now, like possibly finding cover. Sunny, if it gets worse, I may need you to call Roland," states Marianne as the sky darkens significantly.  A few miles later, just as she's starting to fear the beginning of the rain, Roland calls Sunny out of the blue. At first, Marianne is surprised that Roland would think of her in her ceiling-less jeep and want to look for whatever cover came first, but she is quickly saved from that trouble. "Hey, ah, Sunny, could you let Buttercup know that I'm dangerously low on gas? I need to stop at the next place we see to get gas, or else this big beauty won't make it," says Roland, and Marianne rolls her eyes. "Roland, you idiot! Why would you do that? How many miles do you have left?" she asks, baffled when he tells her maybe twenty. Now, she's screaming angrily. "Why didn't you look sooner? We just passed gas twenty minutes ago! This could have been avoided!" "Relax, Buttercup…didn't you say you wanted to stop if the weather got too bad? Right now, I would say it is looking pretty grim and bad for roller coasters, so we might as well stop and enjoy some fresh, country air while I fill up," explains Roland, making her scowl. Oh, how she wishes that she hadn't made those rules. Then she could just go home now.  "Where's the nearest gas?" she asks after a long, reluctant pause.  "Why, lucky for us, only a couple miles ahead, at the next exit. I think I see the station now," answers Roland, sounding not concerned at all. "It's a little, old place where we can get together. Follow me!" With a growl, she agrees and ends the call, preparing to leave the highway. Something about what he is saying is bothering her again, and she can't put her finger on it. The problem is that the blue sign that should list gas stations has none listed on it, so now she is even more suspicious as they get off the highway and find no gas station.  Instead, all they see is glitter. Everywhere. Sparkling despite the storms, and the shine intensifies the further they go. "I don't like this," mutters Marianne, and Sunny starts to pale. Each time she expresses her concern, the more quiet and troubled Sunny looks. Dawn is taking too many photos of the glitter to care. It's as Marianne reflects on what Roland was saying last that a sneaking suspicion hits her, especially considering how nervous and guilty Sunny is acting.  "Dawn, was Roland quoting the Love Shack song before we left and then on the call?" asks Marianne, wanting confirmation.  Sunny's gulp and blush says it all, making her furious. Sunny knows this is the plan all along, doesn't he? But why? How could he betray her like that? It's as he gazes longingly at her sister that she realizes why Sunny would play along.  "Yes! I recognized the words, but I didn't recall just then what he was referring to." Dawn taps her chin in thought, blond curls bouncing with the bumps on the road. "I wonder if he knew we were going to pass by this place. But considering how close we are to the Love Shack now, we should visit it, right? Maybe it can give us shelter from this incoming storm!" With the darkness now above them, the rain could occur any moment now, and frankly, Marianne would do just about anything to avoid getting her passengers and herself injured/soaked. It doesn't mean she has to go inside the Love Shack, but shelter for the rest would be nice.  Luckily, just as it starts to rain, the trees recede, revealing a large, open field. Set way back in the middle of the field is what must be the Love Shack. The song says it's just a funky old shack, and it's right on both counts. The state of the weatherbeaten boards in disrepair show how old the building is, and funky is the best way to describe a building painted entirely in glittery, flamingo-pink paint.  "Argh, of course Roland pulls down the driveway for this place! I should have known! You're both trying to trick us! Why would you bring us to this death trap in the middle of a storm, Sunny?" demands Marianne, glaring at the old friend through the rear view mirror. "I trusted you!" "Marianne, please, it's not like that," he tries, hands together in a pleading motion. "I'm sorry–" "It's not a big deal, Marianne, sheesh," interjects Dawn, patting Sunny's shoulder warmly. She shrugs. "So we get delayed. This will be a fun place to stay while we wait for the storm to end. I've always wanted to go here; this is a great surprise!" She smiles warmly at Sunny, and he has the grace to look away in embarrassment, guilt written all over his face. She continues on, resting a hand on his shoulder. "Thank you for arranging this, Sunny! Now I'm sure to find the right man for me." The urge to slap her face or pinch her nose in light of Dawn's naivete has never been stronger. "Dawn, take your hands off him," growls Marianne, giving them both a dark look until Dawn complies. "Think about this: are any of the boys you're interested in going on this trip? Nathan, Aaron, Benjamin, Charles, Darren?" With a gasp, Dawn removes her hand from Sunny and stares in surprise. "No, you're right!" "Now, be honest, Sunny…did you already have a reservation for the Love Shack for this weekend, putting down money even?" asks Marianne, needing to know the truth so that she's prepared and Dawn realizes the gravity of the situation.  "Yes, I did," he admits, hanging his head sadly.  Dawn is floored, unable to move for several moments. When she wakes up, she scoots away from him as much as she can. "B-but why, Sunny?" The kicked puppy dog look on Dawn's face says everything, and Marianne knows she has made her point. Better yet, Sunny looks absolutely wrecked, knowing he caused this. Sunny was in Dawn's class in school, and he's been in love with her almost as long. Marianne saw it on day one of meeting him, and ever since he stepped in front of a big bully for Dawn, Marianne has respected and trusted him around her sister.  This brings him down in her estimation, but she has a sinking feeling why. Just as she's about to speak, Sunny turns redder than a tomato.  Clearing his voice, he gulps loudly. "Because, because I, oh bother, because I like," he stammers, still not having the courage to speak the truth.  Dawn is completely oblivious, as usual. Her eyes widen in shock, and Marianne takes pity on him.  "You think that's why, but you can say the real truth: Roland put you up to this, didn’t he? Because he wants to get back with me, right?" "Yes," confirms Sunny, making it imperative for her not to stay. She has to leave after dropping off these two. They should make up after Sunny asks for forgiveness, and then finally date. It's long overdue in Marianne's mind.  "I hope you never listen to or trust that lying pig again," she tells him, giving him a serious look.  The nod he gives in return tells her everything she needs to know; he feels remorse and regrets everything now. Good.  The car goes silent, so Marianne puts on the theme song of the place they're being forced to visit while getting rained on. At this point, she doubts that Roland even has a low gas tank. Instead of focusing on him, though, she takes in her mortal enemy: the Love Shack. A special love potion to try to get her to fall in love with Roland, and she refuses to play that game.  She doesn't even know why people would want to visit such an ugly place. The grass is not cut, and the bushes around the front are all wild with their large, varying shapes. The area in front of the shack is empty save the sidewalk connecting the driveway to the front porch, and there appears to be games and stuff behind the building.  But she has no intention of discovering any of this. She devises a plan as she drives and parks, so of course she orders Sunny to carry in all the luggage. Dawn doesn't leave the car nor help like she usually does, still staring with a strange look at Sunny.  As soon as he is out of earshot, Marianne turns to her sister. "Now's our chance. We can leave now. You coming with me, or not?" "But what about staying together?" she asks in reply, confused.  "That stopped applying when they did things behind our back that we don't want," returns Marianne coldly.  Just as she touches her key, Dawn opens her car door. "Speak for yourself. I've always wanted to visit, and now I am. Besides…" She trails off and glances at Sunny. "I need to watch Sunny. I didn't realize he liked someone; I need to find out who so that I can set them up here. Which of the three other girls do you think it is?"  "I'm not sure," answers Marianne truthfully.  Dawn grows thoughtful and leans her chin on her hand. "I just wish he would have trusted me enough to tell me. He's always been such a great wingman for me. I would like to support him since he's my friend." Her face wrinkles at the last word. "That's not right. He is…something more to me." She tilts her head to look up at the sky that stopped raining momentarily. "I'm just not sure what. But I need to know something," she says, giving Marianne a serious look. "Why do I feel slightly angry? Bothered? Worried? Jealous does not seem right. Because he likes someone. I ought to be happy for him." Dawn has so much to learn, and Marianne almost wants to stay just so she can see how and when Dawn discovers her feelings for Sunny. Almost.  She turns to face her sister and takes her hand consolingly, ignoring how the car jostles. "Well, I think that is all something you should discuss with him, but I think he needs to apologize and ask for forgiveness first." "Good point!" chirps Dawn, squeezing Marianne's hand. "Thanks!" All further talk is cut off by the sound of Roland's three cronies, talking loudly nearby. As she turns to check on them, all three bump against the purple jeep, the hood lifting up slightly.  "Hey!" she cries, opening her door. "Back away from the car. It's not yours. Treat it well, or else it'll do the same to you." Her threatening look does its job, and the three idiots all stumble over themselves as they apologize and leave. Dawn leaves the vehicle, and Marianne declares aloud, "I would rather get wet and sick than stay in that horrid place with Roland. Bye, sis." Just as Dawn tries to stop her, she turns the key in the ignition, but nothing happens. That's when Marianne makes the horrible discovery that Roland had already planned for this contingency.  "I hate Roland with all my being," she grumbles, crossing her arms over her chest. "The only thing I hate more is being outsmarted by him." What did those three sycophants take? That line of reasoning quickly hits a dead end, so she decides to focus on stealing Roland's rental.  "Are you looking for something there, Buttercup?" asks Roland far too sweetly.  She turns and notices the smug look on his face, and she becomes enraged when she sees him deposit his keys in a special pocket on the inside of his pants, ensuring that she won't go after them. As her shoulders bunch and tense up, she scowls fiercely at him, loathing him entirely.  "This is going to end in me either filing a restraining order or castrating him…both options are viable at this point," she murmurs.  "What was that, Sweetheart? Do you need help?" queries Roland, heading toward her until she flips the bird at him.  "Never from you. Stay away from me, Roland. Any more funny business from you, and you will regret it," she warns him. "You lied about the gas and the true location of our trip this weekend." His response is cut off by the sky suddenly opening up, a downpour soaking them all. All make a mad dash to the Love Shack with all the women piling under the awning.  "There's a legit sign here at the entrance like in the song!" cries Dawn, always trying to be positive. "It truly says, 'Stay away, fools because love rules at the Love Shack.'" Marianne knocks on the front door loudly, and a moment later, someone opens it, revealing even more pink and glitter. The woman at the door is peculiar with her hair styled and curled up, a hairbow in front, and the bow matches the hot pink dress and tall boots she wears, blinding Marianne with her brightness.  "Hi and welcome to the Love Shack! I'm Sugar Plum, the owner of this fine establishment. I'm here to make your love dreams a reality–" "We all know what you do; there's no need to explain," interrupts Marianne, causing the owner to frown. "Even if everything here is a joke and can't possibly work. And on the remote chance it can, I'm not entering this crazy place anyway. I didn't agree to come here, and I hate love and all men anyway." "But Marianne! Buttercup, this is–" She swirls around and draws her blade, stopping the tip just short of his nose. "Don't. Ever. Call. Me. Buttercup. Again. I'm not your anything. Got it?" "I, I, whatever you say," he stammers, paling at once.  Satisfied, she faces Plum again, only to notice that the woman has a manic gleam in her eyes that worries her at once. "What?" she demands harshly, putting her blade back into place.  "Oh, I was just noticing how you feel about him. Given the fact that the rain is going to get worse and there could be hail and thunderstorms, I suggest you be reasonable and at least come inside," reasons Plum. "Besides, I would never try to set you up with that blond-haired man; you two don't suit at all. You need someone who isn't afraid of you and appreciates swordsmanship." "That man doesn't exist," replies Marianne, finally going inside because thunder and lightning start then. "Sunny, bring our bags in." As she heads inside, she doesn't see the giant grin on Plum's face, nor does she hear the whispered comment. "Oh, but he does." ~~Earlier That Day~~ "Bog, sweetie, are you free this weekend? I need your help."  Jerking his head up, he looks in the doorway to find his mother in one of her favorite dresses, a staid, mossy green one with white flowers dotting the neckline and her head. Her red, wiry hair is at odds with the neat cut of the skirt, and she has a mischievous smile on her face, which can only mean one thing: she's trying to set him up again.  "Sorry, mother, I can't. I'm busy this weekend," he lies, looking down at his work to prevent her realizing the truth.  Sadly, he's too slow, and she knows him too well. "Doing what, exactly? I heard from the 'shroom heads that you're shutting down that fraud at the Love Shack at long last, but I thought that was happening today?" They're decent workers, but they all gossip like old biddies. The only times Bog dislikes them is when they get a message wrong, little the "A tall chef is into shark storage" ordeal.  "Well, that is, uh, the shutdown could take longer than expected," he explains, making it up as he goes. He faces her. "There's a group staying at that awful place all weekend, so I'm planning to go there tonight and expose Plum for what she is. If they listen, then I'll leave right away, or else I'll come back on Sunday to collect when she breaks more hearts." Griselda wanders into the room, lifting a leg to scratch it as she listens. When he's done, she asks with forced innocence, "Is there a possibility that you'll stay all weekend? To ensure there's no possibility of things working out?" "Mother," he huffs, knowing her tricks all too well. "No. Drop it. I've banned love from my life–" "And practically all of Dark Forest Bank as a result! It's not fair for you or the rest, son," she insists, giving him a pleading look. "You could at least try while there. You never know." "No. Which is also why I'm not helping you this weekend," he states, looking at the door to ask her nicely to leave. Pouting, she protests, "But I found you the perfect–" "Perfect what? Girl who happens to be visiting when I fix something? What's her name?" he returns on a sigh, head going into his hands. He's so tired of her matchmaking. Why can't she just let him be? "Maxine," she answers glumly. "Bog, are you sure you won't meet her? I think she's perfect for you." "You said that about the first fifteen women I met, and look how those turned out," he says, glancing up. "Not good. Please, mother, let me figure out my love life on my own." "I make no promises," she replies, leaving the room, showing that she won't fight him on this. "But you're missing out with Maxine! She's swell!" With that, she leaves the room, and he goes back to work. When his headphones go on, he doesn't notice his mother cornering Stuff and Thang.  "Are you two going with him to this shady Love Shack?" she asks, looming between them.  "No, we weren't planning to–" "Well, now you are," she says, interrupting Thang. "It's good to learn how to do this part of the job, and if he does go, then I want the two of you to ensure that he stays the whole weekend." She leans in and gives them the fierce look Bog inherited from her. "Got it? This is your employer speaking here." "Yes, ma'am!" they both declare before nodding. "It's for his own good." "It is, and it would be a fun thing for you to see as well. So go have fun this weekend," Griselda says, shooing them away.  Thang leaves, but Stuff remains. Recognizing the look as one where she explains mysteries of her son, Griselda leads Stuff to her office. "What is it?" Stuff takes a seat on the opposite couch, and then she asks, "I don't think there's a point in teaching us this aspect of the bank. Bog seems like he is growing fed up with banking and would rather just do tax work, but he seems afraid of giving up the bank since his father created it." Nodding, Griselda shakes hands with Stuff in appreciation. "Thank you for telling me. I'll talk to him before he leaves and you two follow." Stuff leaves her office soon after, and Griselda returns to her work until it is almost time for Bog to leave. Soon, she is back in his doorway. He's listening to music, unaware of her presence, and it makes her glad to see that he doesn't completely hate working. Nonetheless, she needs to explain how she feels so that Bog can make a good decision.  "Bog, you have a minute?" she asks, strolling in when he looks up.  "Yes." He gives her a questioning look. "Does it involve Maxine?" The set of his jaw suggests he is frustrated, so she keeps it short. "No. But you do know that I can retire any day now, and I just might. Then it's up to you if you want to keep or sell this bank. I'm fine either way, and so would your father be if he were alive." He stands there slack-jawed a moment before he thanks her, and that is enough for her. With that, she practically skips out.  "Bog is sure to meet someone! I could have grandchildren yet!" Bog leaves his office soon after and heads home to pack a bag just in case. After that, he makes the long drive to the Love Shack, hating the glitter and grimacing when he turns onto Primrose Lane. The place looks exactly the same as before, and he hates it, especially once it starts raining. Parking behind the other cars, he leaves his car when it is pouring outside, and he isn't surprised to see Stuff and Thang driving together behind him.  It means they can help him make an entrance. It's going to be an interesting weekend.
Feeling better about the arrival of the elders thanks to Ludo, Sarah turned to head toward her quarters.  She was halfway to the building when the front door opened, revealing Jareth. The look of concern on his face melted away as soon as he saw her.  "Sarah," he rumbled, reaching out a hand.  The fact that he was suddenly okay with affection, even going so far as to show his feelings plainly, spoke volumes to her. He raced ahead until he was right in front of her, eyes drinking her in. Her heart jumped to her throat as he twined his fingers with hers, as though he needed reassurance that she was physically there.  "You're still here," he breathed, sounding relieved. "Of course I am," she replied, as though it was obvious. "Why would a couple of kooks scare me when I've gone toe-to-toe with you and won?" To her surprise, he didn't let go of her. In fact, at hearing her response, he tightened his grip, his lips curving into a half-smile. "Why indeed? Sometimes I just need more confirmation." His voice dropped as he leaned in. "Everything is different when it comes to you, and I couldn't be more delighted." "I'm glad to hear that; I'm not leaving," she said, her breathing growing ragged the longer she held his gaze and hand.  "I hope you won't," he intimated, his thumb brushing against the small of her wrist. "I'm slowly getting used to having you around and learning to depend on you." His thumb pressed firmly against her flesh. "Is this affection…welcome? Do you like it?" He sounded so nervous, and inwardly she rejoiced, glad he was trying. "Yes," she responded gently, bringing her other hand up to sandwich his. "I like it a lot." He let out the breath he had been holding. "Good. I wanted to be more affectionate since you seemed to want it, but it was hard to overcome my longtime aversion to it…until now." His eyes softened. "Until you." It seemed dancing with Ludo really had made a difference. If that was the case, then it was likely that Jareth would be much more willing to hold her hand or touch her in the future, and she looked forward to it.  "I, I'm very proud to make a difference. There's nothing – not even the oddities and actions of the elders – that could make me want to leave you now," she vowed, caught in the deep blue of his eyes, how they swirled with devotion and more.  I've grown to care about you and the students." "I'm glad," he said, face turning serious. "You're about to be severely tested, and if you fail, you'll lose your position." Her heart thudded to a halt, her blood ice cold as she considered leaving. "Really? They can do that? Those crazy loons?" "Yes," he answered, nodding sadly. "They make the final decision. Your position carries many responsibilities, and they take their job seriously. Few have made it to this point – in fact, you're the first – because the headmaster or myself has sent them away. You have to impress these guys." "Oh," she said, suddenly worried all over again as she stared at their joined hands. She couldn't quit now; she had come too far! It wasn't fair! How could her future depend on men who weren't here most of the time? Doubts and fears swirled in her mind until Jareth raised her chin with his free hand. He didn't seem anxious, and she wished she shared his confidence. She knew nothing about them! "Which is why we need a plan. Do you have time tonight to discuss all that needs to occur in preparation for the recital?" he asked, and she breathed a little easier knowing that he wouldn't abandon her now. Her mind rapidly switched gears from emotional distress to business. How was it that she could go through such a range of emotions in such a short time with him? She was still aching to go back to their little moment of emotional vulnerability, but she really needed to figure out first how she felt. Once she survived the recital and the visit, she would be better prepared to talk to him and understand her emotions.  "Yes," she replied, nodding her head. "Let’s go to the cafeteria and discuss plans over dinner." That night, Jareth explained everything to her, his vision, what the elders expected, and what all needed to be done to prepare the students and costumes. Combined with her ideas, she felt like they had a good plan with just enough time to accomplish it all, especially if she took all the feathers with her so she could create fluffy tails for each of the students to wear. Sarah's small notepad was filled by the end with everything that needed to be done, but with Jareth willing to work with her, she felt equal to the task.  Until the following morning.  The day began as it always did with Sarah and Jareth warming up together, and his bright orange leotard reminded her that they had guests who were already nearby,  watching closely. When she heard him mutter a curse, she went to him. "What's wrong?" she asked, kneeling in front of him.  "I didn't stretch something properly, so now I'm cramping," he admitted ruefully, showing her where it hurt.  "Oh! Here," she said, recognizing the spot from her past and rubbing his ankle. "I've had that happen before. I always do this to fix it." "Thank you," he said after a long moment, and she looked up, noting how grateful he seemed.  "Anytime," she replied warmly, applying less pressure. "How's that?" "Better." He placed his hand on hers, voice dropping. "You should move soon, though. The elders have been watching us since you entered, and they were observing us last night as well." "So what? I want them to know I care. That's their job, and this is mine," she said, checking him one more time before she let go. "To make sure you're ready and able to teach our pupils." He offered a hand to help her up. "You speak of them as ours like they’ve always been that way," he commented, a smile appearing as she grasped his hand. "They are quite firmly fixed as ours now, and there's nothing you can do about it," she said nonchalantly, looking up at him through her lashes. "They've grown on me, and I like them all. I want them to succeed and be happy, so you're not going to be able to get rid of me." "But they smell," he said, scrunching his nose. "They're loud. They love chickens too much, and their ale–" "What do you mean by ale?" she thundered, getting in his face. "They're too young to drink alcohol!" She was curious about the chickens as well since she hadn't seen any yet.  Clearing his throat, he clarified, "A different, special kind of ale. They can drink this one." Giving him a wary look, she got into the starting position. "Very well. Regardless of all those things, I still like them. If I can like you, why not them?" "I wonder sometimes about your basis of comparison." With that, the two practiced until students arrived, and as soon as Hoggle, Ludo, and Didymus were there, the elders stole them away with questions. Sarah restrained her urge to stare as she watched two of them loop arms and do-si-do as they pranced away with their first interviewees. Ludo was released first, followed by Didymus. Hoggle remained an extra hour, but when he returned, he seemed at ease, talking normally with his friends like nothing had happened.  During their first break time, Sarah was lacing her shoes when Hoggle approached quietly. "They didn't ask about you, if you were wondering," he said, making her jump slightly. "Mostly Jareth. They want to know and understand why he's changed so much." "Thank you for telling me. Did they see me dancing with Ludo yesterday?" she asked curiously, meeting his eyes. His guarded look gave nothing away. "They did. They've never seen anything like it before, which makes them extra inquisitive." "Thank you for spending so much time with them; if you need any extra help learning what you missed, let me know. I'm happy to assist you," she said before rehearsals began again, her hour to teach beginning.  At the end of her hour, Jareth was about to take over when the elders interrupted, a few of them walking en pointe to practice what she had been showing. "Jareth, may we have a moment?" As soon the blond went to them, Hoggle was in front of her, smirking. "That's what I thought they'd do. I expect they're going to be talking to Jareth a lot the next few days," warned Hoggle, pointing at them. "I hope you like teaching by yourself." "I like it; I'm used to it but doubt Jareth will let that happen," she said, avoiding saying more when her co-teacher and several of the elders approached her. "Sarah, a few of us have some urgent questions for Jareth. Will you please teach for the rest of the day?" asked one, his handlebar mustache wiggling.  "Jareth, are you alright with that?" she asked in response, turning to him. He took a moment to respond, clearly not happy with the arrangement. "I don't have a choice. While I'd prefer to continue teaching with you for some time before leaving you alone with all of them, you need to do so eventually." Remembering something, his face lit up, and he placed a reassuring hand on top of hers. "I need to develop more trust, and this is the perfect way to do it. Based on what we discussed, I believe our students are in good hands." More quietly, he added, "I'm hoping to be back by the end of the day. You know our plans. Enlist everyone's help." She was so proud of him based on that complete one-eighty in how he spoke of her. It was proof that he was trying to change, and she loved seeing and hearing it. She was determined to give him many reasons to trust her.  "I will." She faced the older gentlemen, noting their collective surprise as they observed Jareth. "I'm ready to teach however long it takes. Even if it goes longer." "Thank you. Two of us are staying to observe your techniques; we look forward to learning all about you so we may evaluate you correctly," said a different elder, this one shorter and apparently bald as he lifted his toupee to wave it at her.  "Yes. It's obvious that you get along tolerably well with Jareth now; it's not so clear about the rest–" "So what you need is a little mess-around," chimed in another older man, kicking his legs about for no reason.  They really were a strange lot, especially with their striped suits that were a mixture of red, orange, and yellow. She had noticed them at different points during the day trying to replicate what Jareth taught, and they were quite spry for their age, dancing about in any old direction they pleased. The one throwing a leg out wasn't that unusual, no more so than the one swirling his cane on his arm and swaying his hips like it was his sole job to move. Soon after, Jareth with some of the elders left, and the rest took up their perch by the door and on the second floor, watching the proceedings.  At first, class continued normally, and the kids learned the final move needed to complete their routine. Just as she got ready to have them practice together, though, one began talking, then two. She let it go, assuming they would stop, but they didn't. As the others watched her not do anything about it, they joined into the conversation, even Hoggle, and Sarah grew frustrated, understanding what Jareth meant about fear. They felt comfortable with her, and they had never really seen her angry, or anything else beyond the helpful teacher. It was time to fix that.  "So, would anyone like to play a game?" she asked loudly, drawing everyone's attention at once. "You'll play a game with us? Truly?" asked one kid, eyes big with awe. "Kingy never plays games with us." That little nickname of his really was ubiquitous. Even the younger ones called him their king. There had to be more to the story, and she wished someone would explain.  "Well, he's not here; I am," she said, dropping her voice to a theatrical whisper. "And since he's not here, he can't join us. It's just us now. How about it?" As all but the three oldest cheered, Sarah motioned for all to stand, and they complied.  "In order to play this game, we need music. I've got several song options from Jareth’s music supply; which one should we listen to?" she asked, quickly determining the favorite, a lively mixed tape. "Good. Now everyone create a circle of chairs, one chair for each person, minus one. We're playing musical chairs, but moving only in whatever position I call out. Got it?" The game was a smashing success. Every child there loved playing games, and she drilled the final move into their muscles, all of the kids panting and exhausted by lunch.  "Wow, that was the hardest game ever," said one boy at the end. "Fun, but tiring." "There are easier games and versions we could have played, but since you all were talking, you missed out on those games. Hopefully next time you won't talk during class," she said, making many mouths drop. "There are more games?" asked another, wide-eyed and excited. She grinned her own Cheshire Cat smile. "Of course there are. I went to school and learned them all." She leaned in expectantly. "But, if you're extra bad in class, then there won't be any games at all. At least now, we will mix games with lessons." "Okay!" As all the kids fled for lunch, Hoggle waddled up to her. "You're going to regret the offer of games. They're going to expect it now. You can't possibly deliver that many." "We'll see. I have many tricks up my sleeve when it comes to games and children," she said smugly. "Have some faith." He shook his head and walked off, just in time for the elders to take her aside. "Sarah, a word with you before lunch?" "Sure. What's on your mind?" she asked, placing her hands behind her back. "There are several things," one answered, lifting fingers as he spoke. "First, the game idea was brilliant. I've never seen them so tired before. Jareth has never played games with them before, and we're going to suggest he do more of that going forward. Second, I hope you have other ways of controlling them, as they are an unruly lot. They cause mess and chaos wherever they go and need a firm hand. Third, what are your thoughts on disciplining children, especially physically?" "I, uh," she hemmed, surprised that Jareth never had played games with them and that they would ask about discipline of all things. "I don't discipline children that aren't mine. There are other ways to handle them." "And if you did have children of your own one day?" asked the other, eyes going comically big.  "Why are my parenting skills in question here?" she asked calmly by way of reply. "I'm a teacher." "To make out your character, of course. To see how suitable you are for Jareth and this school," said the first one, as though it were normal to ask such things. "Oh, and how do you feel…" Her entire lunch was spent fielding odd, very specific and personal questions from them, and she did her best to answer them in a cool, collected manner each time. She didn't want her temper being shown to them this early in the evaluation period.  "That's all for now. You handled all of that quite well, so I'll leave you with one final question," said the taller of the two elders, his voice higher pitched. "Where you goin' with a head like that?"  Thrown off, she tilted her head, patting her crown. "Like what? Is my hair a mess?" "No, no, of course not. You just look stressed; you need to chilly down with us some evening. We're loads of fun," said the same one, cracking a smile. "Yeah, we like to have ourselves a good time around a fire every night. A little singing, a little dancing–" "You should join us!" "I, uh, that's very kind of you," she stammered, wanting to find a way out of the offer. "I doubt I'll have much time during this visit, though, because we have a lot of prep to do for the last minute recital." "Of course. Next time then! Bring your dancing shoes, and break a leg with those crazy kids," said the shorter elder as he waltzed off. "And don't expect to see Jareth for the rest of the school day." Her heart sank at learning that, a little sad that she wouldn't see him. "Oh." "What's wrong? Already nervous to be stuck alone with the likes of us?" asked Hoggle, appearing out of nowhere. "What? No!" she cried, horrified by the suggestion. "I just…wanted to see Jareth." "Hmph. No one in their right mind does," said Hoggle before heading to his friends.  After turning down several requests for more games, she got through several hours of teaching without interruption. As the end of the dancing lessons loomed, though, the kids got antsy. When one attempted to whisper, she knew she had to think fast, so she called out his name. "What did you want to ask me?" she asked, tilting her head.  "Uh, nothing," he replied, staring at his hands.  "Good. Let's continue," she said, calling out anyone who tried to start up conversations. After several more instances, she realized it was fruitless to keep that method going. "Shall we play another game to end our dancing today?" In a blink, all were riveted to her, and the game became beloved by all, as it involved singing and dancing. For whatever reason, the kids loved that combination of things, and she filed that away for future games.  "Now that we're done dancing for today, we shall take our usual break then head for the classroom. Instead of learning today, though, we're doing crafts together so we can make our costumes for the recital," she announced, unprepared for the roar of excitement at crafting.  During the break, Sarah endured yet another round of odd questions from the elders, and afterward she had her first experience crafting with kids, as the usual teachers didn't know a thing about the costumes or crafting. She had been expecting Jareth to be there, as he knew where everything was located, and thankfully, Didymus and Ludo helped her find everything so the kids could make their own headpieces.  Throughout the experience, Sarah was observed as she put out fire after figurative fire, from several different containers of glitter and feathers falling to the ground and spilling, to cuts and running around to find more glue since it mysteriously vanished. It was a trying afternoon, but by the end, the tape was her best friend. It took her some time to get everything cleaned up after everyone left, even with help from Ludo and Didymus, and the day didn't officially end until the elders asked her one more round of questions and comments.  After dealing with the kids, their questions didn't phase her, and she sighed in relief when she left the building alone, heading toward her favorite bushes, hoping to hear more comforting singing. "Sarah?" called Jareth from around the corner, smiling with relief when he saw her. "How are you enjoying the skit preparations?"  "It's a piece of cake," she said sarcastically, giving him a dark look. "It's always easy doing the work of two people on your own, all while doing something at a new place with lots of people commenting on your every move." He grimaced and patted her shoulder. "Sorry. They're especially intrusive with their questions this time. I understand why, but it's not necessary. At least you're handling it well, with all the grace of a queen according to them." So she was a queen now? She was intrigued. Did that mean she would get a nickname at some point? She wouldn't mind being the queen to his king.  "Thank you," she said, feeling her cheeks warm. "I'll admit I was worried you wouldn't be able to handle yourself alone, or that those strange old men would steal you away from me completely so I couldn't even talk to you now," he said honestly, deflating her good mood. "You didn't need to worry on either of those counts," she said, glaring at him. "You can trust me; I can handle myself. I taught children elsewhere before coming here, you know." She wasn't paid that well since it was at the local community center on the weekend, but she had done it in college to help aggrandize her resume. "Yes, but, I can’t help it sometimes. I'm trying to change; it'll take time," he insisted, returning her look with one of his own. Noticing where they stood, he pointed at the opening to the Labyrinth with a concerned look. "Why are you over here at this hour?" She didn't understand why he was so against her wanting to be near the Swan King, especially when she half-suspected it was him. Why warn her away from himself? Did he really dislike himself that much?  "Because I'm stressed and was hoping to listen to some beautiful singing to relax for the night," she answered honestly, drawing a double take from him.  When the shock wore off, he met her gaze, full of warmth and hope. A little smile played upon his lips, and the hand at her shoulder slid just a little lower and toward the center of her back, as though drawing her in to give her what she sought. The press of his hand as he pushed her toward him was soothing and welcome after a long day of being on edge, and she leaned into it, exhaling quietly and taking strength from his presence.  For a moment, the two just stared into one another’s eyes, and she had never been more relieved to have quiet. She greedily drank in the look, smell, and feel of him, finding much comfort in him. He exuded grace and power like he had always wielded it, but the more she took on a leadership role with him, the more she valued his inflexible strength. At first, it annoyed her because it was used against her; now, it was a rock that helped hold her up as he learned to include her in his daily life. She didn't need more reasons to fall for him, but he was making it very hard for her not to. He seemed worried when he came looking for her just now, and his distress was written across his face as she mentioned how stressed she was. He was learning to look beyond himself, and she was slowly becoming addicted to being the center of his attention.  His head lowered infinitesimally, and he licked his lips as his eyes darkened with something new and mysterious, causing her breath to hitch. When he blinked, the moment passed, and he was back to himself. "Not tonight," he said, taking her hand.  Just that simple touch of bare skin against hers caused her to shiver, as charged as it was with urgency, with the need to be joined.  "Okay," she said meekly, overcome with emotion, content to be with him. If he wanted to stand and hold hands all night, she'd do it, recital preparations forgotten. Just his touch was magnetic, and she wanted to feel like this every night, to know she was wanted fervently.  He gave her a grateful smile. "Thank you. I've missed you. How about a stroll through the garden? You can tell me how your day went and unload upon me." "I'd like that," she said, her smile widening when he offered his arm so arms and hands could touch.  Whatever this was between them, she wanted to explore it more, and he seemed to want it as well. For the next hour, they wandered through the roses, eyes fixed on the other and lost to everything and everyone else. It was one of the best hours in her life, being able to just be and spend time with him, commiserating about their students. "I'm surprised they were so careless with the glitter; they usually know to be careful with it," he said as they exited the garden. "I've threatened them with violence about it on several occasions." "Oh! Is there really a need to threaten them like that?" she asked skeptically, squeezing his fingers.  "I always thought there was," he said, his certainty waning as she gave him a pleading look. "What else would you have me do to avoid glitter covering every surface in the whole school? They track it everywhere." "Make sure it gets all over their clothes and in their hair so they get sick of it," she said with a straight face.  As he gave her a questioning look, she smirked, causing him to laugh before leaning in. As his fingers grazed her chin, raising her face to his, she couldn't remember being this close to his face before. It was dangerous how much she liked the closeness, and he seemed just as enthralled, eyes unblinkingly beholding her.  "Oh, Sarah, you clever girl. So fighting fire with fire is your vice of choice, is it?" he queried softly.  "Always," she breathed before going to his ear. "It worked on you, didn't it?"  He chuckled before answering, his lips barely grazing her earlobe. "It did. Now look at me: utterly ensnared by you." His words triggered memories from school, of all the times she responded better in class when praised. Making a mental note, she decided to try praising the kids more so they would prefer pleasing her versus disappointing her.  "That makes two of us," she whispered, inclining her head just so she could feel another nudge of his flesh against hers, his hot breath and body heat keeping her warm as the temperature outside decreased.  "Good." He pulled away at that, waking her up from a most pleasant moment, and offered his arm once more. "Let’s get you inside before the sun goes down. Do you feel more relaxed now?" "Yes. Thank you for listening. I'll convince you yet of the joy of playing games," she said as they walked toward her building.  "Good luck. I've sworn those off for a reason; you don't know them like I do," he said, stopping when they reached the front door. "I know, but they're still only kids. They need more than just practicing, and other ways to expend energy. You'll see," she insisted, opening her door.  "Hold on to that attitude, Sarah. You're going to need it," he said, bending over her hand and kissing it. "In all that you do the next few days. Good night." It was very hard to leave him after that, but she managed to escape. Once she made it to her room, she watched him as he headed to the other building, heart beating wildly in her chest. She was certain that he liked her, and she was thrilled. It was perhaps not wise to fall for the man who she worked so closely with, but she couldn't help it. He made it impossible for her not to feel something for him, even if it was just hate or annoyance. When she slept that night, she dreamed of holding his hand and exchanging secret kisses in the garden. Upon waking, she hoped that Jareth would be back at her side, but alas, only two other elders greeted her, telling her that Jareth was already detained.  No matter. She was a big girl, and she warmed up efficiently, grabbing Didymus and Hoggle when they entered. "You said you finished sewing together the costumes for everyone, right?" "Yes, My Lady! I put them all in the closet like you requested for tomorrow," answered Didymus with a salute.  "Thank you. Please follow me to the closet so I can show you what else I created for the costumes," she requested, both boys following her to the craft room. The plan was for all the kids to wear white to look like swans, and Hoggle and Didymus had sewn wings onto the outfits for her. When she opened the door, though, four cans of paint rolled out, splashing her with orange, blue, green, and red. She stared in horror as she realized that the paint cans had somehow fallen onto the costumes, causing all of them to be covered to some degree with one or all of the colors, and she almost fainted.  "Sarah?" asked Hoggle. "What happened?" "I don't know, but all of your hard work has gone to waste." She turned around, her chest feeling tight with fear and panic. "I don’t understand. How could this have happened?" "It was impossible!" cried Didymus, pointing at the top of the closet. "There's no way any of those large paint cans fit up there. Someone must have maliciously destroyed these." He bowed his head before giving her a pitying look. "I'm sorry that someone would want to do this to you. We'll find a way to fix this, though," he said brightly. "You always do." "Yes, we will find a way," she said, not quite believing it. "Let’s go back. The others will arrive soon." As she walked, she debated how best to fix this mess. When she found an elder, she requested a moment to talk to Jareth to discuss the recital, but she had little faith she would see him based on their response.  The day only got worse. The sets they had been working on before now had a couple small rips, and water spots kept appearing after breaks, making several kids almost slip and fall. Those things, combined with the costumes and Jareth’s comment about the glitter, had her wondering why someone seemed so intent upon ruining this recital.  Was she really so untrustworthy and unwelcome? For that matter, who would do it? She had started off the day nicely by complimenting everyone and playing more games, but the growing list of "accidents", those gnawing questions, and many more judgemental questions from the elders had her cross by the end of the day, a headache forming.  As the end of the lessons drew near, two of the more problematic children started to poke one another, which soon broke out into a fight. As soon as they raised their voices, she had had enough. Very much done with them and this day, she stomped toward them, eyes blazing with fury, and she roared their names, giving her temper free reign.  "Stop your fighting at once! Why did you start?" she asked, glowering at them both. Immediately both shrank before her. "I'm sorry!" both peeped. "It was nothing. It won’t happen again." "It better not," she replied. "I won't tolerate it. You should be friends, not enemies. You won't get anywhere unless you can learn to work together. Find more in common with another." As they nodded, she faced the rest of the students. "And I expect no fighting or talking during my lessons from all of you. Do you understand?" "Yes, Miss Sarah!" "Good. Class is dismissed," she said, letting them out a few minutes early.  She wouldn't be able to focus, and she was pretty sure she just lost any chance she had of staying at the school. It wasn't fair in her mind, especially with the circumstances being what they were, and she resisted every temptation to blurt that aloud. Feeling utterly miserable, she turned away from the students, closing her eyes as tears fell, waiting for one of the old men to come rushing toward her, telling her that she wasn’t allowed to speak to the children like that.  Instead, Ludo and Didymus came forward, Hoggle not far behind.  "My Lady," said Didymus, placing a hand on her leg, "I'm sorry you're so frustrated about all of this. Is there any way I can offer my services to help you?" "I'm afraid you can't help me keep my job when I talk like that," she sobbed, feeling defeated.  "Then let us hug you," said Ludo, patting her back.  Turning to face then, she was happily surprised when both Ludo and Didymus embraced her at the same time, and she hugged them back, glad to have their support. "Thank you." "That outburst shouldn't affect you. Jareth talks like that all the time," said Ludo, making her glance between them with surprise. "Really?" she asked, hope rising. "But would they allow me to do the same? I meant well, but–" "But you do have a temper, just like His Majesty," said Hoggle, not sounding happy.  "Yes, I know. I'm always trying to keep it in check," she said, groaning. "Well, there's no point to worry about it. It is what it is. It's time to deal with the next big accident: the costumes." "Your idea with the markers and tape did wonders for the sets; it was brilliant!" exclaimed Didymus, making her smile. "I would say you made them look even better than they did before in fact. I'm sure you can make something work with these costumes." "So we can't be swans. No big deal," said Ludo with a shrug. "I don't like them anyway. They're mean. I like ducks. And rocks." She had been tossing around ideas all day in her mind to try to find a way to salvage the costumes and hard work. Thus far, she had had no luck, and Jareth never came by to give bis opinions. Resigning herself to putting on this recital alone, she thought about ducks, and that was when the idea hit her. "That's it!" she cried, giving Ludo a hug. "Thank you! You've been really helpful. I think I just figured it out. Let's go." If she could still make the recital happen, then the auditors might overlook her temper. It was worth a shot. The thought of losing this job now made her sick to her stomach. Sprinting to the craft room, she barely beat the students there, and she began gathering all the painting supplies they had. Once everyone was present, she stood in front of them, a grin plastered on her face.  "As you all know, the original plan was to have all of you dress as swans for the recital. How many of you actually like swans?" A couple raised their hands, but most shook their heads, making her smile larger.  "Good," said Sarah, lifting up the white feather bunches she had created. "Because as of now, you are now dressing as black ducklings." Amid many cheers, she continued, "Everyone grab your costume, headpiece, and one set of feathers from me. We're going outside to paint and put the finishing touches on our costumes." "They never let us paint on our own! I'm so excited!" enthused one child, others soon saying something similar as all grabbed the items they needed. Sarah had the three teens help her carry all the paint and brushes outside, and once everyone had an appropriate amount of space to get creative, Ludo gave everyone a brush.  "Notice the different colors on each of your costumes," called Sarah. "The great thing is that you can just mix the colors together and get black, so go ahead and use any color you want. So long as your whole costume looks black, it doesn't matter. Now have fun!" The elders backed away slowly as the little ones went wild with their paint. After such a stressful day, it was very satisfying for Sarah to throw paint at the leftover costume pieces and watch everyone else do the same. At some point, there was a paint fight, and lultiple cans of paint flew through the air. By the end, everyone was a giant mess of paint splatters, but all were smiling and happy. Best of all, everyone had a costume and knew their parts well, so Sarah could rest easy that night, knowing she had managed to put out all the fires on her own.  Once all of the kids put away their outfits and she locked up everything, she headed outside once more, hoping to find Jareth. As she approached the bushes, though, a familiar song wafted through her ears, and she was spellbound, drawn at once to the hedges. That time, she went to the entrance, leaning against it and closing her eyes to let the enchanting song work its magic within her.  Tonight was a treat for her, as she heard the same lines as before and learned new ones.  "As the pain sweeps through, Makes no sense for you. Every thrill is gone Wasn't too much fun at all. But I'll be there for you-ou-ou As the world falls down. Falling As the world falls down. Falling, Falling in love." More than ever, she wanted to believe that Jareth was the Swan King. How else could he know or say such words that spoke to her so well? She had felt alone for most of today, but between the trio of boys and this song, her situation didn't feel quite so lonely.  As the greenery felt ever more inviting, she leaned into it, softly humming along with the song as it repeated. For a time, she let the beautiful words be the balm her tired, wounded heart needed, and by the time she became aware of her surroundings, she was half lying back, the branches entwining around her arms to hold her there. Even the grounds seemed to want to keep her, strengthening her resolve. "You're right," she said to herself. "I can't let one slip up and some little accidents stop me from going after what I want. I want to stay and teach here, so I will. I'll make it work, and I've got support. I can do this." With that, she headed back to her quarters and prepared for bed. As she fell asleep that night, her mind didn't focus on the pain and not alone parts, instead reminding her of the last line repeatedly.  "Is he falling in love with me?" she asked, hugging herself at the idea. "I hope so." She slept afterwards, her dreams full of scenes of her running into his arms and singing together. It left her in a hopeful mood when she woke up, and her day got that much better when she arrived in the practice room. "Jareth!" she cried happily, running to him.  His whole face broke into a smile upon seeing her, and he met her halfway with his long, loping strides. As soon as they could reach one another, he gathered her into his arms, holding her close against his chest.  "Sarah," he breathed into her hair. "I'm sorry. Being separated from you gives me physical pain, especially knowing you're shouldering all of the stress right now. How are you?" "Managing. Better now that you're here," she said before looking up into his eyes.  "Good. I heard you raised your voice to the students; I'm proud of you," he said, smirking. "You scared them well, and yet they still seem to love you, not an easy feat." She shrugged, not surprised that he liked her showing her authority. "It was a rough day. So much happened. I had to make a few changes." He let out a long sigh. "I heard. Normally, I would be furious that you made changes without my consent." Shutting her eyes, she nodded in understanding, feeling bad once more. "Under the circumstances, though, you had no choice, and you reacted well under the pressure. You have my support for the costumes and sets," he said in a warmer tone, a hand rubbing her back. "We'll get to the bottom of these accidents after the recital. I'll see to it personally."  His eyes became dark with menace, and she should have been afraid. Instead, she felt nothing but satisfaction knowing that he was on her side.  "Thank you. We'll dole out justice as appropriate…together," she said, placing a hand on his chest.  He grinned. "Of course. Together. If you want any mercy, it'll have to be you giving it. The perpetrator will receive none from me. Not after all they've done to you. I won't stand for it." "How long can you stay today?" she asked, hoping he could at least help her backstage with the recital.  "I'm not sure. They said that I should come see them after greeting you. Let's go together," he said, taking her hand. "It shouldn't be that much longer." Hand-in-hand, they walked quietly to the office set up for the elders. The door was ajar when they drew near, and both could hear the elders, along with Hoggle’s voice.  "How has our little plot worked out?" asked one of the men.  Upping hearing that, Jareth made a shush motion and eased Sarah against a wall so they could listen in.  "It's all going according to plan," answered Hoggle. "I've spoken more to her to draw out her thoughts and feelings regarding all of us. I've also been causing accidents to occur all over the place, with the sets, costumes, floors, and more."  As he spoke, Sarah felt cold all over, hurt and betrayed that he would do all that. She could lose her job! She could lose all of them! She started to spiral quickly, losing faith in herself that someone she had talked to so much would do something so terrible. When she glanced at Jareth, he looked furious, and a small part of her rejoiced.  "You wanted her to be tested, and I have provided all the means to evaluate her and help you. Now you've seen her temper," said Hoggle, sounding pleased with himself.  "So you're the reason why my Sarah has been left alone and been stressed for no reason!" shouted Jareth, storming into the room with Sarah not far behind.  "How could you, Hoggle?" she asked, near tears.  "Because I was ordered to do it and I don’t trust you," said Hoggle honestly. "I'm not looking for new friends or change, and that's all that's happened since you arrived." With that, Hoggle turned and ran from the room, and she felt like someone had punched her in the gut.  Jareth looped his arms around her. "Don't worry, Sarah. I'll see to it that he's punished. I'll throw him out if that's what you'd like–" "No," she interrupted, pulling out of her stupor to make this point clear by pressing a finger to his lips. "It's natural to be afraid and distrust me. He's trying to protect you and everyone else. Don't punish him like that. I'll think of another way. He stays. Will you promise me that?" she requested, giving Jareth her biggest puppy dog eyes.  Groaning, Jareth nodded. "Very well. As you wish. Determine his punishment after the recital." "Thank you. So now we put on our recital?" she asked, looking at him and the elders. "Not quite. Just you, young woman. This will be your final test," said one of the elders, looking solemn. "We need to know you can do all this on your own." Sighing, she understood why they wanted it this way, even if she hated it. This was the way things had to be done, and she would play her part of the heroine. When she met Jareth’s eyes, she saw equal pain along with resignation, and something warm unfurled in her chest, knowing he wanted to be beside her.  "I understand. I'm sorry, Sarah," he said, squeezing her hands. "Just know that I do believe in you, and that–" "You'll be there for me, right? Even as the world falls down?" she stated hopefully. His whole body shivered as she repeated the song lyrics, and he gave her a sad smile. "Yes. Always." That was all that she needed to know. She had his support, as well as Didymus and Ludo's. She could do this. If the outburst hurt her, this recital would redeem her. If the elders liked her display of authority, just like Jareth, then she would show them just how capable she was.  Setting her shoulders, she smiled warmly. "Then I'm ready. The show must go on."
Sarah couldn't get the image of the red aura entering Jareth out of her head. She never saw Didymus so happy, and this odd magic unsettled her. Skipping dinner, she ventured outside, needing fresh air to clear her mind, as well as to look for a letter from her family. Walking around the school didn't help, though, and after making a full turn, she was still restless. As she walked up the sidewalk to enter the school, she heard something she never had before: singing. The man singing had the most beautiful, nay magical, voice she had ever heard. Caught up in it, she headed toward the hedges of the Labyrinth, until she came to the opening. The golden tendrils of the late afternoon sun showcased the crimson and ivory roses that dotted the tall hedges, filling the air with the sweetest fragrance. She wanted to enter the shrubberies, if only to inhale the blooms’ scent fully and immerse herself in the gorgeous baritone. It was then she remembered herself and the warning the headmaster
Chapter 2: Sir Didymus
Sarah and Didymus walked silently out of the room, and no one batted an eye as he limped out. As soon as the door slammed closed behind them, Sarah saw how much Didymus was hurt, his shoulders and head drooping.
Wanting to distract him, she found the signs for the nurse and went in that direction, asking, "Have you always wanted to be a dancer?"
Didymus’s head popped up, suddenly energetic once more that she was interested in him and his dreams. As they made their way through the maze of hallways inside the boarding school, he turned into a chatterbox, talking nonstop about how he had always dreamed of be
Chapter 1: The Story
Once upon a time, there was a beautiful girl. She was a selfish girl, one who wanted everything for herself. Every beautiful music box, doll, and book she could imagine. She adored her mother above all, the best actress there was. Every week, her father would take her to see her mother perform, and she received gift after gift from her mother and her admirers. Nothing was too good for Sarah Williams, the golden child.
Until nothing was.
One fateful day, her mother left. Abandoned her, her father, and everything they had for someone else, to chase her dreams in New York City.
Sarah was inconsola
Chapter 8: Barriers to Kick
"Marianne, what are you doing tomorrow?"
The woman in question stared at her father in surprise, fear gathering in the pit of her stomach.
"Considering tomorrow is a week from Dawn's wedding, her bachelorette party is tomorrow night-"
"Good. Then you have time to have Saturday brunch with your dear father," said Dagda, making a note in his phone. "Let's meet at our favorite place at eleven. I want to discuss your future here."
It was his favorite place, not hers. Mostly because Roland liked it a lot. Marianne abhorred the place because of old associations, but she was willing to put up with it because it was h
Chapter 7: Butterfly Bog, Thy Name Is Awkward
Bog and Marianne quickly discovered the joys of texting after that magical night. Marianne loved it when he sent selfies at work, and Dawn got to see the occasional photo. Marianne always said it was to check out all the cool equipment he used, but Dawn was quite certain it also had a lot to do with the fact that Bog looked great in a suit. His dark brown hair and five-o'clock shadow were what Dawn focused on instead, happy to see that Marianne loved it when she criticized it. Dawn always grinned conspiratorially when Marianne then went silent and acted awkward after mentioning how much she
"Is that-"
"Yes. Yes, it's David Bowie, singing some of his best songs ever," said Marianne, grinning as she brought out a bucket of popcorn and sitting beside Bog on the sofa.
In the background, a computer-animated barn owl flew about, and Bowie crooned about forever, how it was not long at all. Now that they had been practicing for almost two months and had a good grip on all the songs, Marianne felt that they deserved a night off. This way, she could finally show him Labyrinth, and she could find out if he was interested in attending the wedding.
"I'll be glad to see this infernal movie at last. I want to understand why you
The Green-Eyed Witch Ch. 13 by tmwillson3, literature
Literature
The Green-Eyed Witch Ch. 13
In the weeks following Sarah's arrival to Fairhope, life was... different.
Sarah had never been so relieved to have peace and quiet, at least within her family and in the surrounding village.
Learning all the villagers' names was the most stressful activity Sarah did daily, between family members dropping by to tell her stories of her mother, other witches discussing lore with her and Irene, and other villagers visiting with free food to help the new family adjust.
When the villagers weren't there, Sarah made the most of her time with her immediate family, as well as spending every evening she could with her Aunt Rachel, or whoever she bro
The Green-Eyed Witch Ch 12 by tmwillson3, literature
Literature
The Green-Eyed Witch Ch 12
Chapter 12: Black Forms and Revelations
"Wake up, witch," said a disgruntled voice outside the shed as he kicked it. "It's sunrise. It's time for you to burn."
Sarah shook herself awake as her goblin friend tugged on her clothing. The nightmares had been minimal for once - less about burning alive now that she had conquered it, and more focused on Arthur finding her again - so she felt surprisingly rested. Her head was clear, even if everything else felt off. She fingered her necklace one last time and tried to ignore the way her stomach cried out for food and her body ached from the odd sleeping position and terrible bed.
She knew what sh
Sarah couldn't get the image of the red aura entering Jareth out of her head. She never saw Didymus so happy, and this odd magic unsettled her. Skipping dinner, she ventured outside, needing fresh air to clear her mind, as well as to look for a letter from her family. Walking around the school didn't help, though, and after making a full turn, she was still restless. As she walked up the sidewalk to enter the school, she heard something she never had before: singing. The man singing had the most beautiful, nay magical, voice she had ever heard. Caught up in it, she headed toward the hedges of the Labyrinth, until she came to the opening. The golden tendrils of the late afternoon sun showcased the crimson and ivory roses that dotted the tall hedges, filling the air with the sweetest fragrance. She wanted to enter the shrubberies, if only to inhale the blooms’ scent fully and immerse herself in the gorgeous baritone. It was then she remembered herself and the warning the headmaster
Chapter 2: Sir Didymus
Sarah and Didymus walked silently out of the room, and no one batted an eye as he limped out. As soon as the door slammed closed behind them, Sarah saw how much Didymus was hurt, his shoulders and head drooping.
Wanting to distract him, she found the signs for the nurse and went in that direction, asking, "Have you always wanted to be a dancer?"
Didymus’s head popped up, suddenly energetic once more that she was interested in him and his dreams. As they made their way through the maze of hallways inside the boarding school, he turned into a chatterbox, talking nonstop about how he had always dreamed of be
Chapter 1: The Story
Once upon a time, there was a beautiful girl. She was a selfish girl, one who wanted everything for herself. Every beautiful music box, doll, and book she could imagine. She adored her mother above all, the best actress there was. Every week, her father would take her to see her mother perform, and she received gift after gift from her mother and her admirers. Nothing was too good for Sarah Williams, the golden child.
Until nothing was.
One fateful day, her mother left. Abandoned her, her father, and everything they had for someone else, to chase her dreams in New York City.
Sarah was inconsola
Chapter 8: Barriers to Kick
"Marianne, what are you doing tomorrow?"
The woman in question stared at her father in surprise, fear gathering in the pit of her stomach.
"Considering tomorrow is a week from Dawn's wedding, her bachelorette party is tomorrow night-"
"Good. Then you have time to have Saturday brunch with your dear father," said Dagda, making a note in his phone. "Let's meet at our favorite place at eleven. I want to discuss your future here."
It was his favorite place, not hers. Mostly because Roland liked it a lot. Marianne abhorred the place because of old associations, but she was willing to put up with it because it was h
Chapter 7: Butterfly Bog, Thy Name Is Awkward
Bog and Marianne quickly discovered the joys of texting after that magical night. Marianne loved it when he sent selfies at work, and Dawn got to see the occasional photo. Marianne always said it was to check out all the cool equipment he used, but Dawn was quite certain it also had a lot to do with the fact that Bog looked great in a suit. His dark brown hair and five-o'clock shadow were what Dawn focused on instead, happy to see that Marianne loved it when she criticized it. Dawn always grinned conspiratorially when Marianne then went silent and acted awkward after mentioning how much she
"Is that-"
"Yes. Yes, it's David Bowie, singing some of his best songs ever," said Marianne, grinning as she brought out a bucket of popcorn and sitting beside Bog on the sofa.
In the background, a computer-animated barn owl flew about, and Bowie crooned about forever, how it was not long at all. Now that they had been practicing for almost two months and had a good grip on all the songs, Marianne felt that they deserved a night off. This way, she could finally show him Labyrinth, and she could find out if he was interested in attending the wedding.
"I'll be glad to see this infernal movie at last. I want to understand why you
The Green-Eyed Witch Ch. 13 by tmwillson3, literature
Literature
The Green-Eyed Witch Ch. 13
In the weeks following Sarah's arrival to Fairhope, life was... different.
Sarah had never been so relieved to have peace and quiet, at least within her family and in the surrounding village.
Learning all the villagers' names was the most stressful activity Sarah did daily, between family members dropping by to tell her stories of her mother, other witches discussing lore with her and Irene, and other villagers visiting with free food to help the new family adjust.
When the villagers weren't there, Sarah made the most of her time with her immediate family, as well as spending every evening she could with her Aunt Rachel, or whoever she bro
The Green-Eyed Witch Ch 12 by tmwillson3, literature
Literature
The Green-Eyed Witch Ch 12
Chapter 12: Black Forms and Revelations
"Wake up, witch," said a disgruntled voice outside the shed as he kicked it. "It's sunrise. It's time for you to burn."
Sarah shook herself awake as her goblin friend tugged on her clothing. The nightmares had been minimal for once - less about burning alive now that she had conquered it, and more focused on Arthur finding her again - so she felt surprisingly rested. Her head was clear, even if everything else felt off. She fingered her necklace one last time and tried to ignore the way her stomach cried out for food and her body ached from the odd sleeping position and terrible bed.
She knew what sh
The Green-Eyed Witch Ch. 11 by tmwillson3, literature
Literature
The Green-Eyed Witch Ch. 11
Chapter 11: Visits and Attempted Escapes
Darkness filled her vision, wandering hands grasping for purchase anywhere they could upon Sarah's body.
She fled, looking for any ounce of light. Wherever there was darkness, the hands seemed to find her, asking for more - something she refused to give them.
Finally, a dull light appeared in the distance. The hands tried to hold her back from the ever-increasing light until she moved out of the shadow of an ancient oak. There she saw a bonfire with a tall stake in the middle. Arthur appeared, taking hold of her and pushing her in as voices shouted their condemnation.
The screams rose higher and hi
The Green-Eyed Witch Ch 10 by tmwillson3, literature
Literature
The Green-Eyed Witch Ch 10
Chapter 10: In Defense
Author’s Disclaimer: THERE IS A TRIGGER WARNING. Attempted assault ahead. Please read at your discretion. I love you all and want you to know, so there’s no surprises. Onward!
"Kill her!"
"Burn her!"
Panicking, Sarah looked from side to side but saw no one, only dark, menacing shadows that grew larger and larger as they slithered forward. The black mob of nothingness roared its cry of fear and surrounded her.
She ran. They followed.
She flew. They persisted.
They invaded the branches around her, sucking up all life and light until only an eerie, deathly grayness seemed to permeate th
Quick facts: I'm a hopeless romantic, as well as an eternal optimist. :D I love and write fluff. Also, I am a Christian engineer. I love what I do. :D My art is a wonderful hobby of mine, coming from my desire to see certain couples end up together, making me a committed fangirl. I love making art almost as much as I love looking at art on here.
I now have a profile on FF.net, livejournal, and A03! :D
Long Version: I'm very fond of fanfiction, in particular Labyrinth ( + = !!!) And then there are the other fandoms that I follow, though perhaps not as much (thankfully, or I'd never leave). There are some amazing artists out there; I love checking out the work and admiring it. I'm an engineer, and I love doing that type of work (aka math and science). However, I like to write for fun and take pictures. I love talking, and will talk about just about anything, so if you ever want to chat, just comment or let me know! :D
I love to take pictures with my new Nikon, so I'll be posting those now and then. Also, I've done a variety of things with ASinglePetal on editing work/writing because of a contest I entered of hers. I've also started photomanipulation! :D I have a couple done, and most will be covers for stories I write. There should be more in the future, once I can get myself away from writing.
Yes, I am a Christian, and proud of it! :-) This will occasionally affect my writing, but I'm not trying to preach or anything. you all!
Fandoms: Labyrinth, Jane Austen, Ouran High School Host Club, Strange Magic, Frozen, Bond/007, Marvel, Thor, Disney, Sherlock, Howl's Moving Castle, Harry Potter, The Parasol Protectorate, ATLA, POTO, and MANY others (look at all the groups). Slowly getting into Once Upon a Time and Dr. Who.
Pairings: Labyrinth: J&S: SO SO HARD!!! Strange Magic: Butterfly Bog and Sunny Day POTO: either, depends on mood HP: Hermoine & Snape (written this), Hermoine & Harry, Luna & Neville, Draco & Ginny, a variety, as well as canon Ouran: Haruhi & either Tamaki, Kyoya, Hunny, or Mori. I haven't been convinced of the others. ATLA: canon or Zutara , Tokka, Taang Marvel: canon, Lokane, Tasertricks, Darcy& Cpt America, Darcy &Hulk, Clintasha Frozen: Jelsa, Kristanna, Helsa (With redeemed!Hans)
Writing Schedule!
Current: 1. Letters from a Mutual Friend 2. Sarah and the Laws of Queendom 3. Art Exchange with xXRainbowStarsXx SAO (Kirito X OC) 4. Sweet Possibilities: 2 more one-shots for sure, Hide and Seek, and Beautiful 5. The Accompanist (Strange Magic) 6. What You Want (OHSHC KyoHaru) 7. The Host Club Is (OHSHC TamaHaru)
Later: 1. Arrogance and Animosity (Labyrinth) 2. Assorted OHSHC one-shots (TamaHaru) 3. Little Ouran (OHSHC AU, KyoHaru) 4. Assorted Holiday one-shots (Labyrinth) 5. The Love Shack (Strange Magic)
Story Summaries for Labyrinth Stories: Let there be much J/S Fluff!!!
1. Sarah and the Laws of Physics: my first one, and finished. The feedback from this story has been great, and now I want to write a short sequel (see details below). Started Feb 2011, finished Summer 2011.
2. Baby It's Cold Outside: my second finished one. A holiday-themed one for Christmas and Thanksgiving. Started Dec 2011, finished May 2012.
3. Trick, or Treat: More Halloween-themed fluff. Should have been a one-shot, but it's not, so it's a two-shot. Started and finished Oct 2012.
4. Another Valentine's Day: More Valentine's Day-themed fluff. A two-shot because I'm verbose. Started and finished Feb 2013.
5. How to Woo Properly: Complete. Based on a one-shot/drabble by Kyndsie. Link included in story. Another way in which Jareth might have tried to win Sarah. Started Sept 2012, finished Feb 2014.
6. Sarah and Laws of Queendom: Currently finishing. Sequel to Sarah and the Laws of Physics. Started July 2011.
7. Arrogance and Animosity: on hiatus until Summer 2015. Labyrinth meets Pride and Prejudice (and some Shakespeare), so excited to do it. Will be finished after Sarah and the Laws of Queendom. Started June 2011.
8. Letters from a Mutual Friend: is the letters sent between Sarah's three friends, Sarah, and Jareth, after Sarah starts college. This story will have short chapters, but there will be many to make up for it. This story will be lengthy as a result, covering all of Sarah's years in college. Started July 2013.
9. Under the Stars: Versions 1 & 2: Fluffy stories (one-shots) about Jareth and Sarah being together under the stars.
10: Love in the Spring: 2 related one-shots that are gifts to a friend, Kiyomi-chan16 . Labyrinth meets Frozen songs. The result is silly fluff.
11: Sweet Possibilities: All one-shots written for livejournal. So far includes: One Samhain Night (Halloween fic), Goblin Gifts (Christmas fic), A Winterfest Story (Christmas fic), Them Apples, Have Stick Will Travel, For the Longest Time. Hope to add: Hide and Seek and Beautiful
12. There's A LOT of one-shots, so go look at my folder of one-shots to get a look at all of them.
13. Of Love and Dreams: a future story, romance novel spoof I've always wanted to write. More J/S, with some Toby and Sarah sibling time. Haven't decided if drama or comedy. Sarah needs inspiration for her romance novels, and so has Toby help her visit the Goblin King by wishing her away. Nothing wrong with that plan at all.
18. FAR FUTURE: The Goblin Ball: it involves much dancing, and even more poetry. More scared of the poetry honestly. Could be drama or comedy.
Non J/S: This list is growing, thanks to OHSHC and Strange Magic. Involving OC's of ASinglePetal 1. Assassins Don't Wear Pink 2. Assassins Don't Wear Dresses (sequel to 1) 3. Welcome to Home Depot, Mr. Bond 4. A Day at the Prince's Zoo 5. Just Another Family Dinner For Sword Art Online 6. Christmastime in Sword Art Online: giftfic For Harry Potter 7. Snape's New Favorite Toy Ouran High School Host Club 8. New Year's Eve, Ouran Style 9. Alone Now 10. Don't Mess with Our Friends 11. His Favorite Gift 12. With You 13. What You Want 14. The Host Club Is Strange Magic 15. The Accompanist
Other Random Facts deviantWEAR sizing preference: L Favorite genre of music: Rock and Roll Favorite photographer: none Favorite style of art: Photography Operating System: PC MP3 player of choice: iPod Favorite cartoon character: Scooby-Doo Personal Quote: "I can do all things in Him who strengthens me."-Philippians 4
Fantasy!!! I also really enjoy this, part of the reason why I wanted to do photomanips to begin with. Fairies and the supernatural are interesting to see and read about, no shame.
Did I mention that I'm a nerd, and proud of it? I'm an engineer, with very eclectic interests. By personality, I am ESFP, so go figure. And I'm left-handed!
Many thanks to Erozja for the use of her free avatar for my profile pic!!! See her profile here: erozja.deviantart.com/
Also, yes I know I fave too much. I like to fave and run. So much art, so little time! Sorry if I don't comment, but if I feel really strongly, you'll know ;-)
:thumb153603370: :thumb107692083:
Favourite Visual Artist
Anyone who is Impressionist
Favourite Movies
Pride and Prejudice, Persuasion, Labyrinth, Anastasia, Disney!, Beauty and the Beast, all JA, Marvel
Favourite TV Shows
Big Bang Theory, Law and Order, Beauty and the Beast, Doctor Who, Downtown Abbey, Monk
In case anyone didn't know, it is @kiyomi-chan16 's birthday! Make sure to go wish her a happy birthday! I hope you have the happiest of days, KC!! :-) In honor of her, there is another chapter of my giftfic for her. https://www.deviantart.com/tmwillson3/art/The-Swan-King-Ch-4-913229902
Hi all,
My life is ........
Not so good right now, to say the least.
Work has me doing a lot of overtime (yay money!), but then I found out a couple weeks ago that my dad died. It's been a fast whirlwind since. And it seems it's only going to continue with more from work, and stuff related to my dad's death for some time to come.
Moral of the story is: if I disappear and don't do much in the way of fanfic, you know why. I plan to do something small soonish to make sure everyone knows, but that's it: something small.
Anyway, that's all that's going on with me. All good thoughts and prayers for my family as we grieve are appreciated. I hop
Rest in Peace, David Bowie. You shall be missed. Your presence and art will continue to be felt for a long time.
If nothing else, then I will continue writing stories so that the music and movies aren't forgotten. He has given us much, and I hope I can give like he did.
I like to think that his memory shall live on in our hearts, in his music, movies, and other forms of art. I hope all take his death as a reason to continue to create.
Because of him, I found the movie Labyrinth, and the wonderful world of fanfiction. My life has changed so much since deciding to try to write those years ago. I have been blessed by meeting many wonder
Happy Late Birthday. It's been crazy with everything going in the world, Schooling my kid at home and trying to keep my little world alive with all the stress.
Thank you soooo much Yeah things are crazy right now! Good luck with your kid! I wish you all the best there because kids stuck at home are not easy to work with sometimes. I hope you stay sane, and thanks for the wishes!
You're welcome! I thought I was following you before, but then I discovered I wasn't! I wanted to fix that. Thank YOU so much for all the faves on my fanfic!!