"Well, if it isn't you." 

I hear myself say.  Hallelujah!  When every fuse in my consciousness is blown, innate sarcasm comes to the rescue! 

Jareth gives me a smirk, and looks about to say something else when a voice to my left calls out.

"Oy!  Are you alright there, Miss?" 

We both turn toward the man who has spoken.  He is standing a few paces away smoking a cigarette and looking as if he has seen his share of fights.  He's watching us intently, and probably has been since I hurriedly rounded the corner.  Jareth regards him coolly, but says nothing.  Whatever business Jareth and I have with each other, I definitely don't want this guy involved. 

"Of course," I say with as much composure as I can muster.  I turn to Jareth. 

"You startled me, I thought we were going to meet inside."  I say pointedly.

Jareth's gaze switches to me.  A slow smile spreads across his face. 

"Where's the fun in that?" 

He quips, shifting my hand to the crook of his elbow and leading me toward the door of the coffee shop.  I give the man with the cigarette a reassuring smile and we march through the door of the coffee shop.

Once inside, we drop the charade, and I gesture to the left. 

"Grab a table, I'm going to go order." 

Without a word, Jareth turns and peruses the seating, like it is the most natural thing in the world for him to be doing.  I stare after him for a moment trying to process the reality of him being here, but my mind is in a full blown riot.  Panic is wondering if I have somehow called him here with all my Labyrinth nostalgia.  Logic is trying to detect his motive.  Sarcasm is composing a list of snarky remarks about his clothes.  (Instead of his usual 19th century gothic wear, he is sporting J Crew.)  I shake my head for the millionth time today and go to the counter to order. 

Cappuccino in one hand and herbal tea in the other, I make my way to the table Jareth has chosen.  It's a two seater near the back wall, tucked between an overstuffed couch and next to a half wall that divides the seating area from a corner that displayes the work of local artists.  Work brain kickes in.  Back to the wall, minimizing disturbances, relative privacy.  And not even the hint of a smile.  Whatever the reason for Jareth's sudden appearance, it is undoubtedly serious. 

I slide the cup and saucer in front of him and take my seat across the table.  He turns puppy dog eyes on me and I feel a flutter in my stomach.  I'm suddenly grateful for the rain.  I'm   dressed in knee high wedged biker boots, soft black ankle pants, and a long sleeved maroon cold shoulder shirt.  My hair is in an elaborate updo and my eyeliner was wickedly sharp.  I feel like a superhero.  It gives me enough confidence to address the situation at hand. 

"Would you mind telling me just what in the hell you are doing here?"  I ask in my most casual superhero manner. 

Jareth's face brightens just a bit at my insolent tone, but he doesn't smile.

"I'd like to know what you've been up to since we last met."

My eyes narrow and I feel the right one tighten more than the left one.  I wonder if this conversation is going to be what finally gives me a tic. 

"You don't really expect me to believe that you've just popped in after seventeen years for a cup of tea and a chat, do you?"

Now a small smile creases his face. 

"There's the hint of an accent creeping into your speech.  I think living here is rubbing off on you."

I lean away from the table and cross my arms.  Jareth loses the coy expression and turns serious. 

"I do have something to discuss with you, but first, I'd really like to know about your life.  Please, Sarah."

Please?  Did the Goblin King just say please?  I can't remember a time when he has been so...earnest.  Well, maybe once.

I sigh, leaning forward and wrapping my hands around my cup of coffee. 

"Ok."

I stare at the rich swirl of froth, letting my mind reach back.

"Well, when I got back home from the Labyrinth, I changed quite a bit.  I went really...mainstream.  I had always been withdrawn, preferring my books and imagination to actual people.  But then I started doing everything everyone else was doing; going out with friends, school dances, basketball games.  I don't know why, I think... I didn't really know how to explain my time in the Underground, so I made it into some kind of cautionary tale: Be normal or else." 

I sneak a glance at Jareth.  He is staring at the table, eyes unfocused, nodding slightly, like he is picturing what I'm describing.

"When I wasn't doing typical teenager things, I found myself unusually drawn to puzzles.  I worked on complicated mazes, crosswords, Chinese puzzle boxes, even rubik's cubes... It got worse when I went to college.  Studying dry facts, more down time, I kept myself going for awhile by inhaling mystery novels, solving riddles and working cryptograms.  But I was restless, I couldn't seem to commit to a field of study, I switched majors a few times, finally earned a paltry degree in business, and left college at a run."

Jareth frowns a bit, then gives me an intense look.

"Did you...give up on your dreams?"

I lean my elbows on the table and slump a bit, feeling the weight of what is coming next in my narrative.  

"No, not entirely, but even dreams, as it turns out, come with fine print.  I was always in theater, and once I had a degree that pleased my parents, I booked an international flight, came here and pursued it full time for a couple years.  I loved being on stage, bringing the characters to life.  It was the behind the scenes that I couldn't contend with.  The performers behaved like animals when they were off stage.  They all had self destructive habits and a bad attitude toward the future.  It all made me feel hopeless. Then I met Darren.  He was a struggling musician, so one of his friends brought him to sing when we did Camelot.  We started dating after that production.  He used to play his guitar and sing to me, and I would read mystery novels to him on rainy afternoons.  It wasn't too long before we got married."

I pause.  My chest feels tight.  I don't like to talk about it.  I also wasn't about to mention the fact that my ex husband's affinity for leather and long hair had given him a certain resemblance to my Underground adversary. 

"Married?"  Jareth says quietly.

I look up and meet his eye.  He looks mournful. 

"It seemed like a good idea at the time."  I say and then cringe thinking that even my marriage could be categorized by a cliche.  I hurry on with my story.

"It was fine at first, when we were just a couple of kids living on part time jobs and dreams, but then Darren and his band started to get popular.  They got a manager and started doing some touring.  I went along at first, but the demand for shows kept on increasing, and I felt like I spent all my time in a tour bus or at an after party.  I guess I started getting restless again, because I asked Darren to get us a permanent residence.  We got a small house outside of Auvergne.  It was lovely, and I could hardly stand to go on tour once we settled there.  Things fell apart pretty quickly after that.  Darren and his band got famous, fell into drugs, wild parties, and infidelity.  We got a quick divorce and I sold the house and came to England, thinking I would go back home.  But then... then my father died..."

I trail off, needing a moment to swallow down the lump in my throat.  I take a few sips of my coffee and nearly choke when Jareth put a hand over mine.

"I am truly sorry."  He says with his head lowered.

A tear slips out of my eye and I wipe it away before he can notice.  Thank God for waterproof mascara and setting spray.  I take a quick breath and continue.

"I couldn't imagine going home after that, so I settled here, put my business degree and enigma solving skills to work, and opened a 'consulting business', becoming a P.I. of sorts.  It's... been going well."

I sigh, somehow feeling lighter.  It was nice to be able to talk to someone who could understand where I was coming from, literally.  I had never been able to openly discuss the Labyrinth with anyone, or the impact it had on my life. 

Jareth nods thoughtfully, taking a drink of his hitherto untouched cup of tea.  He raises an eyebrow.

"Peach?"  He asks, with a twinkle in his eye.

I grimace. "Apricot - one of my favorites.  As it turns out, I've lost my taste for peaches."

Jareth smiles and takes another sip,  while I consider the fact that his hand was still on top of mine.  That flutter in my stomach is starting up again.  Then I remember that Jareth said he has something to discuss with me. 

"Perhaps now you could tell me why you are here."

Jareth's face darkens slightly and he says,  "Let's take a walk."

Coming out of the shop, I notice the chivalrous brawler is still hanging around.  I slip my hand around Jareth's elbow again, and let him lead me back toward the alley.  Turning out of sight we step right into the Underground.