"I know your story." He kicked his feet slightly, and then looked at her. "I have read it, and let me tell you that I could tell that it was not the truth." He was about ready to say something else about Rumplestiltskin, so he stopped. "Anyway, books should not be judged by their covers, especially when the book characters are staring you in the face."

Belle nodded and smiled at him again, swallowing a mouthful of tea. "We've had our share of that as well. There was a time when were didn't know who we were and the person that saved us didn't believe that we were characters at all at first. She was convinced we were all crazy." She gently set the tea cup down on the desk and sat back in the chair, propping her feet up on a nearby box. "I would honestly be interested in know how all our stories ended up in books in the first place."

Jareth nodded and gave a small smile. "As would I. I mean there has to be someone out there writing down all of our stories. Sometimes frighteningly accurately." He looked out the window and sighed. "It is so clean here." He murmured. "Possibly because there are no goblins running underfoot."

Belle smiled and leaned back in her chair a little more. "Well, of course it's clean." She said, chuckling a little. She watched him for a moment in wonder. "You know. You're very charming for a goblin king." she said.

What is with these damned hormones. Stop flirting.

He smirked and flashed a smile at her. "I try my best. I am surrounded by filthy creatures all of the time, therefore I must look my best at all times." He picked up his book and flipped it open, while he propped one foot on the arm of her chair. He continued flipping until he selected a place and started reading.

Belle stared at him reading the book.

What are you doing? Stop it.

She looked him up and down and quirked a smile. "Well, you certainly look good. So I guess you're doing that part correctly."

Oh, my, god. You little trollop!

Jareth coughed and almost choked. "I..." His hair turned pink. "I would thank you, but I'm afraid your husband would kill me." He swallowed and returned his attention to the book, hoping that his hair would not come into the discussion. It was embarrassing enough that it turned pink in the first place.

As he fumbled for words, Belle couldn't help but laugh a little. She smiled and thought of the conversation they had had previously. "He wouldn't kill you for merely speaking." she said, coyly playing with her hair.

What in the hell do you think you're doing? Oh, you know what you're on your own now.

Belle ignored the screaming voice over her conscience and began to sway slightly in her chair. "You're pink." she said, chuckling to herself.

Jareth grumbled, the pink in his hair turning more neon by the second. "Shush." He muttered.

This is wrong, this is so wrong. She's a married, pregnant woman and you should not be helping her hormones make a sham of her marriage.

And yet....here he was.

Belle nudged him with her foot a bit and continued to smile. "Does that mean the same thing as when my cheeks blush? Hmm?" she said, teasing him as much as she possibly could about the fact that his hair was nearly fuchsia. She continued to twirl her hair around her finger and make her chair swivel back and forth.

He sighed and placed the book down on her desk. "Yes, it does." He watched her for a few moments, his mismatched eyes watching as she swirled back and forth. "You're going to make yourself sick."

Belle laughed and continued playing with her hair and moving herself in the chair. "No, I'm not. I do this all the time." She paused briefly before speaking again. "Tired of the book are we?"

Jareth watched her play with her hair, and a vast number of thoughts swirled through his brain, none of them remotely helpful. "I already know that story, it is rather boring. When you know the heart shattering ending, you probably shouldn't continue reading as all you will become is even more heartbroken."

Belle couldn't tell if he was trying to change the subject because he was bored with her or if he was trying to keep his mind occupied on other things. "Are you sure that's the reason you put it down? Or is maybe because you're trying to figure out why your hair is the color of perfectly bloomed tulip?"

He scowled and turned his gaze away from her. "I do believe I told you to shush, Belle." He glared particularly nastily at one shelf of books, waiting for the embarrassment to die down. Eventually his hair returned to normal and he turned back to her. "Ha! Not the color of a tulip now."