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Chapter 5 Chapter 1 2 3 4 6 7 Home
Anya was perspiring heavily from her exertions. It wouldn't do to become dehydrated, so she stopped for a brief rest. She drank one of the bottles of water she had packed, and then ate an energy bar to keep up her strength. Resettling her backpack on her shoulders, she prepared to continue her quest.
She had only taken a few steps when a crystal sphere came rolling down the path toward her. She automatically bent down to pick it up. Pretty. Shiny and pretty. Anya couldn't look away from the sphere. She sank to the ground, holding it cupped in her hands, staring into its crystal depths at visions only she could see.
Jareth stood watching her. “Hello, Anyanka. It's been a long time. And aren't you the clever girl! You've actually come quite far, but now it's time for you to take a bit of a detour. I was planning to offer you a ripe, juicy peach; but I see you've already eaten. No matter. This should keep you occupied—you always were a mercenary little thing, Anyanka. Your covetousness will now be your undoing. Enjoy your things!”
Anya wasn't consciously aware of his presence. Mesmerized by the spell of the crystal globe, Anya found herself inhabiting a landscape full of all the material objects anyone could desire. An old woman, bent with the weight of the objects she carried on her back, shuffled over to Anya.
“Hallo, dearie.”
Anya turned dazed eyes on the old woman. “What is this place?”
“It's your life, dearie. Here are all the things that are most important to you.” She handed Anya a cash register. “Here's your money, ducks.” She piled on various items of clothing. “And all your pretty outfits . . .” Boxes and boxes of hair color in myriad shades joined the pile. “My, my, you do like a change, don't you? And here's . . .”
The old woman paused. She searched Anya's mind. What else was important to the girl? What did she want more than anything? Acceptance. Love. Friends. Good health and long life. Bah! Those were all intangible things—no good at all! They wouldn't weight her down in the slightest. There must be things she wanted?
A house? A car? No good! She was perfectly satisfied with the apartment she shared with the boy, and she showed no interest in driving. Jareth wanted this one occupied, so she would have to do better than this—if the girl had no specific wants, why, they would have to be created for her.
“Here, dearie, here's a nice iPod, and a high-def plasma TV . . .” The ancient woman continued to pile on goodies as Anya became more and more mesmerized by the things offered to her. Soon, she was bent over with the weight of them.
The old woman opened the door to a replica of The Magic Box.
“And here's a place for you, ducks. You just stay right here and play with all your pretty things. You can color your hair, or count your money . . .”
Anya docilely allowed herself to be sidetracked by the things. She had forgotten what she was supposed to be doing. All that mattered was that she was surrounded by fascinating objects. There was no stress here . . . no worries . . . just lovely things.
The old woman continued to tie Anya to her world with more material things. She dropped a long strand of pearls around Anya's neck and placed a diamond tiara on her head before scurrying off to find more things for Anya.
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Xander jumped as he felt a hand touch his shoulder. He turned his head to see Jareth standing behind him.
Hey! How did he get over here? Wasn't he just standing over there?
The hand slowly slid down Xander's back, making sensual whispery noises on the peacock blue satin. Jareth leaned closer to whisper in his ear.
“Are you enjoying your party, Xander? I created it especially for you, you know. I don't . . . share . . . my balls with just anyone.”
“It's . . . um . . . very nice . . .”
The hand had reached his waist and was drifting into 'bad touch' territory.
“But you're not dancing . . . you must dance.”
“Have you ever seen me dance? Pretty much a spazz, here. You can ask Buffy . . . or Willow . . .”
The hand had stabilized on his lower back. His really low lower back! Jareth sort of—slithered—around to face him and held out his hand.
“Shall we?” he asked, and Xander somehow found himself gliding to the strains of that haunting song. It was hypnotic, in a way. Yeah. That's what it was. Hypnosis. Or a spell. 'Cause no way was he dancing with this Fairy—er—Goblin King of his own volition! Nope. Not him. He wasn't pressing himself against that taut . . . tight . . . lithe . . . firm . . . body that sorta reminded him of Spike, whom he couldn't stand, and would never, ever fantasize about and besides, Jareth had even stupider hair than Spike, but he did have incredibly sexy . . . eyes, and Jareth had gone to all this trouble, it would be very rude of him not to at least make an effort to enjoy Jareth's balls—er—ball . . . maybe after the others left, he could explore the Goblin King's . . . castle . . . more thoroughly. Maybe Jareth would even let him climb his tower . . .
**********
“And here's a nice warm quit for you, dearie, and a Bose CD player, and a fuzzy pair of bunny slippers . . .”
“Bunnies! Floppy, hoppy bunnies!”
Anya's eyes lost their glazed look. She focused on the glass sphere in her hand and flung it to the ground, shattering it into hundreds of pieces!
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