Jareth was watching Erik wash dishes after dinner when a knock came on the door. He'd largely forgotten about the vampires in the basement since they'd moved in three days ago and was mildly surprised to see one of them at the door.
"I'm Jean-Claude." The vampire said, "Wicked said that you had a tailor I might borrow?"
"I do. Come in." Jareth waved the vampire in and showed him to the living room. "Goblin lackeys!" He clapped his hands trice and four goblins appeared. "These are my tailors."
Jean-Claude nodded approvingly as the goblins brought out a measuring tape and started to take his measurements. "I like your pants, by the way."
Jareth's pants had been declared by some to be criminally tight and it took the Goblin King a moment to realize what Jean-Claude meant.
"What? You… No, no, no." Jareth shook his head. "I stalk the girl down stairs, Sarah. I've even proposed marriage."
"Oh. Pitty." Jean-Claude sat down on the couch next to the goblin with a pot on his head. The goblin had produced a large pad of paper and was sketching out different shirt designs.
Norrington burst through the door, clutching a pile of dirty laundry to his chest. "Erik, Jareth! There's a vampire in the laundry room that has these hideous scars, hurry and call Van Helsing!"
"Asher is with me." Jean-Claude said, looking over the back of the couch at Norington, "So many good-looking men here," He whispered under his breath. "We're living in the basement for now."
"Now I've seen everything, skeleton pirates, body-less hearts, gay French vampires living in the basement."
"I like women, too." The vampire said with a scowl. "Though I suspect that your problem is really that we're French." His accent started to creep back into his voice. "Jamie, that is what I hear they call you in these parts, so you think you have troubles? Having your love stolen by a pirate and being killed by a senile old barnacle is nothing compared to what I have had to suffer through." Jean-Claude stood up gracefully. "I'm responsible for corrupting the lady I love. This wonderful, pure flower that I once had is now sleeping with over thirty different men on a regular basis." He looked at Jareth. "Thank you for the use of your goblins. I think I've overstayed my welcome." He vanished through the still open door.
"That is hard." Norington admitted to no one in particular.
Norington left with his dirty laundry and Erik looked accusingly at Jareth.
"You were being nice to Jean-Claude. What fresh hell are you planning now?"
A few days later
"Sire!" A gray goblin stuck his head out from under Jareth's bed. "The shirts for the vampire are finished!"
"Give here." Jareth stooped down and plucked the stack of four fine silk shirts, all teaming with ruffles, from the goblin. "No tricks in these, right?"
"Yes sire, just as you said."
"Good." Jareth promptly teleported into the basement, or tried to at least. He appeared in front of the basement door without the usual glitter. He tried again to enter the basement on his own and finally knocked.
Wicked opened the door and looked out at him. "Like the wards, do you?"
"Very nice indeed." The Goblin King said through clenched teeth.
"Miss Granger put them up as soon as we moved in. she really is the brightest witch of her age." Wicked stepped aside and let Jareth in. "Jean-Claude is in the back. Follow me."
Rooms had been hastily erected in the basement, gold drapes served as walls and flickering lanterns hung suspended from the ceiling. Wicked pulled away one set of drapes and ushered Jareth into a formal sitting room.
"I'll tell Jean-Claude you're here."
Jareth nodded and set the shirts on the coffee table. He didn't want the vampire to think he was lowering himself to some sort of delivery boy. He wondered if he should have brought a goblin to carry the shirts instead.
The furniture and drapes were in matching gold, cream and blue, with an erotic picture hung on one wall. Jareth thought the picture was rather tasteless for a formal sitting room, but one never could tell with vampires. He decided not to sit, but to levitate three feet or so above the armchair so he could look down on the vampire.
Jean-Claude sauntered in, wearing a bathrobe and possibly nothing else. He gazed up at Jareth, unimpressed.
"Thank you for the shirts. But you don't give something for nothing. What is it that you really want?"
"I'm just being nice."
Jean-Claude laughed. "Nonsense."
"You vampires are territorial, right? Vlad Dracula lives down the street and he's flirting with my Sarah. Could you and your goons run him off?"
"None of my vampires are goons." The vampire sat down in a chair and propped his feet up on the coffee table. "You're the Goblin King, set your goblins on him. Be a man. If you really love her, deal with it yourself." There was a bitter note in Jean-Claude's voice as he said this. "But I can help you with your black chicken problem."
"How?" Jareth demanded.
"I'm opening up a bathhouse with Yubaba in the vacant lot next door. We'll serve the chickens; organic, free range goblin chickens." He sounded like he really could care less.
"What happened?" The Goblin King asked, his curiosity getting the best of him. "What made you leave Saint Louis and why isn't Anita here with you?"
Jean-Claude sighed. He felt weary when he shouldn't these days. "If you ever think that it would be nice to know the future, think again and shove that thought as far out of your head as it will go. It is not worth it. I had this feeling for a few weeks, like death was looking over my shoulder for a second time. I couldn't shake it. I was told that a lady vampire named Alice Cullen could see the future. She told me that I was…"