It was one of those nights when the rain came down in torrents. Christmas and New Years had come and gone and it was looking to be a dreary January outside the flat.
Jareth sat on the windowsill, looking out into the rain. His great aunt, Yubaba, stood slightly to one side, her nose obscuring half of the view.
"There's some scum slinking around out in the rain," Yababa snorted.
"Auntie, you always say that."
"I'm serious." She poked him with a pointed finger. "Look there."
The first of three great moving vans pulled up in front of the flat. There were two Land Rovers and a Porsche already parked there, the occupants climbing out and opening umbrellas.
"Erik, is there a vacant flat here?" Jareth opened the window so he could hear what was being said below.
"No." Erik answered from the kitchen.
All Jareth and Yubaba could hear over the drumming of rain was heartbroken sobs. The procession from the cars was led by a snazzily dressed young lady. She tried the front door, then looked up at Jareth and Yubaba.
"Hello Jareth! We don't have a key! Could you come down and let us in?"
"Do you know her?" Erik asked, trying to see out the window over Yubaba.
"Haven't the slightest idea who she is." Jareth waved out the window with no intention of letting them in.
"Go let them in, you lazy slug." Yubaba poked him again.
Jarath disappeared in a poof of glitter.
"Do you know who they are?" Erik asked Yubaba.
Yubaba just smiled.
Jareth appeared in the entrance hall and opened the door for the young lady and her companions.
"I'm Alice, Alice Cullen." She folded her umbrella in and shook Jareth's hand.
Jareth looked behind her at the men piling into the front hall. They were not Cullens, that was for sure.
"I'm not moving in here." Alice said preemptively, "They are." She turned to the two men closest to her. They were tall and dressed in clothing that wasn't quite modern. "This Wicked and his brother Truth. That's London and Requiem." Requiem had a valkyrie-style beard and London was dressed from head to foot in black leather. "Asher is holding Jean-Claude." Asher had long blond hair and had a man wearing an overly ruffled shirt held tight to his chest. Jean-Claude was sobbing almost uncontrollably, bloody tears sliding from his eyes.
"Jareth, Goblin King." Jareth said. He could feel a great pain welling from the group, but especially from Jean-Claude.
"Pleased to meet you." Wicked and Truth said in unison. They stepped aside to let the others pass as Alice led them to the basement. "If it's not too much to ask, could you tell our master, when he's feeling better, where you get those frilly shirts? We left our tailor in St. Louis and he's already ruined close to half his wardrobe."
"My goblins make them," Jareth said. "I suppose they could make some more. It's about the only useful thing they do." He glanced after Alice. "And you tell your master this, you keep your pointy fangs off my Sarah."
"I'll tell him." Wicked said. He and Truth gave a slight bow and followed the other vampires down into the basement.
Jareth poofed back into his flat. Yubaba and Erik sat at the table drinking tea.
"Who are the new neighbors?" Erik asked.
"Vampires." Jareth slumped on the couch. "Six very hurt vampires are moving into the basement."
"My basement!?" Erik fumed. "How dare they move into my basement!"
"Don't go stalking them, they'd make mincemeat out of you." Yubaba snorted. "That silly noose wouldn't do you any good at all."