Authors Note:

I haven't updated in six months, and I'm sorry. There is no excuse except to say that I kind of got daunted by this work for a bit (and with a lot of real life trouble), but I am back and I love this story. I hope you will continue to read and love it too.

So, with further ado, back with the story!

They say that time flies when you're having fun, and with Lawrence back stateside, the time flew by until Saturday was upon them. Like most pre-Christmas mornings in New York, the day dawned cold but clear. Weak rays of sunlight illuminated a crisp world. In a castle-like manor half an hour's drive from the City, two businessmen were stirring, and more was the pity. They had stayed up late the night before, going over everything to do with the trial in Japan, and had fallen into bed around one with more to still discuss. Jareth, dressed comfortably in jeans and a royal blue jumper, reached the kitchen first, unwilling to tackle his wild hair until after a decent breakfast. Lawrence shuffled in a few minutes later, brown hair ruffled and dark eyes groggy, moving straight for the coffeepot with the laser intensity that Jareth embodied. Not having shared Jareth, Duke and Vendice's flair for fashion, Lawrence was wearing worn dark jeans and a large green jumper that might've been army surplus. A thick pair of thermal socks were on his feet, and he scowled at Jareth as the blonde smirked at his state. Lawrence finished his cup of coffee, then poured himself another. "Don't start, Jack" he warned, amusement hiding in his voice.

"I have no idea what you're talking about, John." Jareth raised his eyebrows in a failed imitation of innocence, and turned his attention back to the breakfast he was cooking.

"You're forgetting how long I've known you, Jack" Lawrence smiled, swiping a piece of fried bread from the frying pan. Jareth half-heartedly swatted at him with a spatula, guarding his tea with his free hand.

"I don't think that's possible, John" he replied calmly, more awake than his friend only by virtue of several cups of his strongest tea. "I might forget little things like the odd year and how many businesses I own at any given time, but I cannot forget how long you and I have been friends." Lawrence regarded him with a furrowed brow.

"You know, the thing with you, Jack, is that I can never tell when you're being serious or not." Jareth smirked - a flash of sharp white teeth.

"I have been so informed, John" he reported casually, dropping some bacon into the nearest pan. "Do we have any HP?" Lawrence nodded absently.

"There's a bottle in the cupboard, saw it yesterday."

"Hmm" Jareth hummed vague understanding. "Beans or egg?"

"We had beans for dinner" Lawrence reminded him, idly examining the New York Times.

"So we did" Jareth agreed, ducking into the pantry for eggs. "We must get pizza for dinner. We can eat it on the go."

"And where will we be going?" Lawrence's voice echoed into the pantry. "I might have plans, Jareth!"

"I see. And what might those be?" Jareth enquired carelessly, his gaze captured by the sight of mushrooms - when did he buy those? He glared at the perplexing fungi and raised an imperious eyebrow back at Lawrence.

"Well" Lawrence began, dark eyes resigned. "I was going to come and see how Labyrinth was getting along. I haven't been back in ages, and I know how much you love it there."

"Excellent" Jareth smiled sharply. "I always knew you had a soft spot for my Labyrinth."

"I talk to Jareth Regent all the time, I've missed Jareth, the Goblin King." Lawrence retreated behind his paper. "I miss the real you the most though, Jack. You should be like this more often." Jareth rolled his eyes at his mother henning.

"Eat your bacon."

"I nag because I care, Jack" Lawrence offered gently, taking the bacon. "I'm in Japan most of the time, I can hardly harass you like this every day."

Jareth huffed a breath. "Small mercies."

"Jareth." He heeded the warning in his friend's tone. They'd had this conversation before, and they'd probably have it many times again; Lawrence worried they were all going to die alone and working, and Jareth (as his best friend) was the one he worried for the most. While touching, it was also incredibly infuriating.

"Have a little faith in me, John - I do know what I'm doing."

"On stage or running multi-million dollar companies, I'd more than agree with you" Lawrence agreed, irritating in that well meaning way only old friends got. "But with your personal life, Jack, Vendice has more transparency than you."

"I don't have time for a personal life, John" Jareth did the verbal equivalent of throwing his hands in the air. "I just spent the best part of a month with little to no sleep, working all hours of the bloody day and what parts of the night I didn't pass out in. I barely get a chance to go out with Tom, Vendice and Duke on my normal schedule. So you tell me, where can I honestly fit a personal life in?" Jareth held up a hand as Lawrence made to reply; he wasn't finished yet. "Do take into account the fact that I am, by your own admission, equipped with enough trust issues to ruin any significant committed relationship, and a very eligible bachelor, then tell me why I should even bother?"

"Because you're lonely, just like Duke is, and Vendice is, and I am" Lawrence sighed, turning his most serious face on Jareth. "We're rich, we're successful, our bank managers are very happy people, but that doesn't really mean anything because all we live for is work and the handful of times a year that we manage to get together." Lawrence pointed a piece of bacon at him severely, brown eyes flashing. "That's not living, Jack. We're existing in the hope that it'll get better."

"Tom managed to get married" Jareth pointed out, ignoring that voice in his head (the sensible one that sounded like Jareth did when he was getting pissed off in the boardroom with the incompetent buffoons that didn't know their arse from their elbows, never mind how to run a company) that said that Lawrence was right and he knew it.

"Tom is the only one of us who didn't come custom built with trust issues, loneliness through fear of ultimately ending up alone, fear of being used, or the inability to get over crippling fear of rejection" Lawrence said through gritted teeth. Jareth retained just enough of his common sense to see that he had pushed his usually quiet friend to the edge. He sighed heavily, carding his hand through his hair.

"If I'm the one with the trust issues, who's everyone else?" Lawrence huffed a breath of resigned laughter.

"Vendice is the fear of being used (as you know all too well), Duke's crippling fear of rejection, and I'm loneliness through fear of ending up alone." Lawrence shook his head, an apology hiding in his gaze. "I know that I push, Jack-"

"Don't apologise, John" Jareth waved his hand, this conversation was already approaching uncomfortable limits of emotionalism. "You push because you care, as woefully unaccustomed to that as I remain after all this time." He raised his mismatched gaze to meet Lawrence's. "I'm trying, but I don't have much of a basis for comparison, you see."

"The fact that you're trying at all is an improvement on seven years ago, Jack" Lawrence offered gently, as ever his sounding board and reason. Jareth hated being vulnerable, but when it came to feelings and all that came with it, he was reliant on the wisdom of his friend.

"Her name's Sarah" Jareth announced cautiously, quiet following his tentative words. "We're friends, I think."

"But?" Lawrence prompted, hearing the pause in his voice. Jareth sighed again, the words pouring out.

"I trust her, and I've opened up to her more and quicker than even you. When I'm with her, it's so easy just to be me. She's seen me literally in the middle of a week-long work spree, and then at the Palace Kitchen, and at the Diner."

"Has she met the Goblin King yet?" Lawrence asked, wisely not mentioning the work incident. That was a different argument.

"I thought I'd introduce her tonight, and you too" Jareth shrugged, pushing away his empty plate. Tea was what he needed now, that and some non-emotional conversation.

"Jareth" Lawrence chided his back. "You can't just throw something like the Goblin King at her. You should, you know, prepare her first. That part of you can be a little much."

Jareth flashed a wicked smirk over his shoulder.

"I told her that we're meeting at Labyrinth, John" he tsked. "Sarah's smart enough to do the research if she really wants to know what she's getting herself into." Seeing Lawrence about to protest, Jareth held up a hand. "Did you still want to catch up with Vendice without me? I've got a painting I can finish, if you need me to run you into the City." Lawrence threw his head back with laughter.

"In other words; piss off, John, I want to paint." Jareth barked a laugh in return, eyes twinkling at the play.

"Well, when you put it like that..."

Music was Jareth's refuge, but painting was his therapy. There was something calming about the repetitive strokes of his brush on the canvas. His mind could slow down and relax, giving him a break from the constant need to overthink every little detail. When he combined music and painting, then Jareth was truly content. David Bowie's Let's Dance album blasted from the top-of-the-line stereo system, Jareth singing along as he meticulously painted a vibrant fairy-tale garden outside a spectacular castle. He wasn't sure how long he had been at it, letting the music and the calming motion of the painting draw him away from himself for as long as he could. Sometime after the fifth repeat of Criminal World (just as Cat People started), Jareth was jolted from his work by the sound of his front door opening. "Oh Jareth?" The unexpected Transatlantic accent of Vendice Partners called. "Stop that godawful racket and come buy us a slice of pizza!" Jareth rolled his eyes and gave Vendice the finger over his shoulder. By now, he was far too used to Vendice's occasionally tactless personality. Lawrence's gusty sigh rang around the comfortable (read small and cosy) flat.

"You do realise that isn't going to make him any more inclined to do what you want, don't you Vendice?"

"Of course I do" Vendice agreed cheerfully, something Jareth had always admired and hated about the man. He swung into the flat, smiling a hello at Jareth. "You can take the boy out of Brixton-"

"But never the Brixton out of the boy" Jareth finished, a small smile twitching his lips. They said that every time they saw one another. "How have you been, Vendice?"

"Content enough" Vendice dipped his head, lounging on the seatee, the perfect image of careless elegance; Jareth was impressed. "Finished trying to work yourself into an early grave?" Jareth arched an eyebrow, well aware that Lawrence was hiding in the kitchen trying desperately not to laugh.

"For this year."

"Excellent" Vendice clapped his hands. "Then shall we get going?"

"You're bonkers if you think I'm going anywhere in that deathtrap you call a car, Vendice" Jareth remarked, meticulously washing his brushes. "If we're going anywhere, I'll drive myself." A thought hit him suddenly, and Jareth smirked pointily. "Besides, who said you're coming with us?"

"Twenty six years we've known each other, Jareth" Vendice winked, falling easily back into his London accent. "In all that time, have either of us managed to make the other not do something that they wanted to?"

"He's got you there, Jack" Lawrence offered, grinning like it all hadn't been his idea in the first place.

"One of these days, you'll stop being such a mother hen, John" Jareth grumbled, failing to inject as much heat into his tone as he'd wanted. Lawrence smiled innocently, Vendice snickering into the tea he'd been given.

After a quick dinner of the single greasiest, cheesiest and meatiest pizza Jareth had ever seen in his lifetime, Jareth dressed quickly in dark jeans, a white dress shirt and his favourite leather jacket and knee high boots. He wasn't going into Labyrinth to work tonight, so he didn't see the need to dress like he was, well not yet at least. Vendice looked his normal self in a bespoke blue suit, tossing a matching hat impatiently from hand to hand. Finally, Lawrence had clearly caved to Vendice's pressure, and was dressed rather fashionably in pressed black slacks, a white shirt, tie and black formal jumper. A red scarf hung undone around his neck, Lawrence never having been much for colder climates. "Shall we go?" Vendice proposed, foot tapping in the way that showcased his hidden talent at tap-dancing.

"I don't see why not" Jareth agreed smoothly. "We do have to be there by eight."

"You're not going to sing anything extravagant tonight, are you Jack?" Lawrence asked hopefully but his eyes held a world of resignation.

"Subtlety is not my strong point, John" Jareth apologised, shrugging. "Now come along."

"After you, Nibs" Vendice smirked, the trio parting at the cars. Vendice climbed into his red Bentley while Lawrence dived for the passenger seat of Jareth's Aston Martin. Jareth knew the feeling; Vendice's driving left many people feeling ill. It wasn't through lack of skill, he just drove like a madman.

Joining the throngs of people inside Labyrinth, Jareth felt a part of himself relax. Queen's Don't Stop Me Now blasted from the speakers, Septímüs clearly a popular DJ, more so than his predecessor at least. As it faded into Under Pressure, Vendice towed him over to their usual booth, Lawrence already there with their usual drinks. Jareth's scotch, Vendice's martini, and Lawrence's lager sat so patiently on their coasters, Jareth almost found himself missing Tom's cosmopolitan and Duke's fine wine (usually a crisp Chardonnay, but it could differ). He was curious what drink of Sarah's would join the odd collection, but at the same time there was a bubble of worry for her upcoming introduction to his friends. He was 31 years old, but he'd never had anyone important enough to introduce to his bonkers best mates. If that wasn't pathetic, he didn't know what was. "Oi, Regent" Vendice called teasingly. "You going to drink that scotch, or leave it there as an art installation?"

"I'll install it somewhere in a minute, Ven" Jareth growled, eyes twinkling like Christmas lights.

"Always knew you had a kinky side, Jare" Vendice smirked, nursing his martini. "It's all that leather." Jareth smiled pleasantly, the kind of overly polite smile that only meant one thing; fuck off. "Love you too, mate." Laughter like tinkling crystal prevented the cutting retort Jareth was sure he would've come up with, Sarah coming to stand beside their booth. She looked, well breathtaking, dressed in black jeans and a silver top that highlighted her perfect figure. He stood to greet her, smirking at Sarah's slight intake of breath.

"That's the first time I've seen you out of a suit, Jareth" she commented, eyes slightly wide.

"It's all their idea, I assure you, Sarah" Jareth smiled, waving a hand at his friends. "Apparently I'm less inclined to talk business if I'm not wearing a suit."

"Ha!" Vendice scoffed loudly. "Don't listen to him. He hates wearing suits, he'd dress far differently all the time if he could. And that doesn't stop him from talking business."

"I knew it" Sarah smirked triumphantly, apparently unfazed that she hadn't yet been introduced. Jareth shot his friend a deadly glare.

"And there goes any chance of convincing you that I'm not actually a workaholic" he sighed mournfully.

"Jack, she's spent more than five minutes with you" Lawrence pointed out brightly, clapping him on the shoulder. "Trust me, that ship has sailed."

"Thanks for that" Jareth glowered, giving serious consideration to sulking back in the booth.

"Manners maketh man" Vendice chided, his accent back to the crisp Transatlantic cadence it was in public. Jareth glowered again, he had a feeling that he would be doing that a lot tonight. But, he just suffered it, pasting a somewhat real smile on his face.

"Sarah, I would like you to meet my friends Vendice Partners (owner of That's Motivation, and my head of PR), and John Lawrence (Gruagach Head of Operations for Asia and my unofficial second in command)." Vendice and Lawrence inclined their heads as Jareth introduced them. Sarah's sharp gaze took them in, a smile appearing on her lovely face. Jareth took it as his sign to continue. "John and Vendice, I'm not sure why but I'd like to introduce you to Miss Sarah Williams, a business consultant for the Mayor's Office."

"Charmed " Vendice bowed, ever the gentleman. Lawrence shook his head.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Miss Williams" he said, Sarah smiling back at him. "Jack has been his usual cagey self about you."

"He's good at that isn't he?" Sarah teased, bumping her shoulder playfully into Jareth's. "He speaks very highly of you both."

"He has to" Vendice cut in, ignoring the reappearance of Jareth's glare. "We've got far too much blackmail on him for anything else."

"I'm right here, you know" Jareth scowled, pretending to mind their antics. His heart lightened at the sight of his friends so welcoming of Sarah, and Sarah tentatively giving them a chance.

"And why is that, Jare?" Vendice wondered far too innocently to be believable. "Don't you have a set to do?"

"Shut up, Vendice" Jareth smiled pleasantly, reluctantly rising from his seat. Sarah raised an eyebrow, both curious and worried. "I'll be back soon enough, Sarah. My job is never done."

"Yeah, but you enjoy it" she replied, Jareth tilting his head in agreement.

"John, Vendice, I leave Sarah in your capable hands. No embarrassing stories, I my be your friend but I'm still your employer-"

"Only because you're a possessive bastard" Lawrence commented, dark eyes sparkling innocently. Jareth couldn't really refute that.

"Be that as it may-"

"Get on with it already!" Vendice groaned, signalling for another martini. Jareth glared again, offered Sarah a bow and retreated to his office to change.

As soon as Jareth was out of sight, and silence had reigned awhile, Sarah turned her eyes on his best friends. "So, what do you really think of me?"

"If you hurt him, there won't be a place in this world you can go where we won't find you" Vendice said immediately, his smooth voice changing to a more rough London accent. This was another man not to be messed with. "He's rich, he's handsome, and I may be in advertising but that doesn't mean that I didn't grow up with him in Brixton." Sarah nodded crisply, ignoring the slight change in story. Jareth was clearly passing out only the bits of his past that were his to tell.

"Jareth trusts her, Vendice" Lawrence cut in peaceably. "I am willing to give her the same courtesy. However" his dark eyes hardened. "I agree with Vendice, if you're interested only in his looks and money and care nothing for the trust he has put in you, then you'll have the four of us to deal with."

"And if I were only friends with him for that, we wouldn't be sitting here" Sarah replied, sipping her wine. "Jareth isn't the kind of man to trust blindly."

"She has a point" Vendice sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "He's going to kill us for this, you know."

"I thought that was why he left?" Sarah said, brow furrowed in confusion. Lawrence chuckled warmly.

"No, that's why he left." His head gestured towards the darkened stage, familiar music beginning to play. Out of the darkness came a voice like starlight and magic and David Bowie. Sarah leaned forward just to catch more of it. How did they get Bowie?

"Fame makes a man take things over. Fame let's him loose, hard to swallow. Fame, puts you there where things are hollow..." Sarah didn't even realise that Lawrence and Vendice were grinning, her entire focus was on that stage.

Halfway through the song, light suddenly illuminated the stage. The singer, too far away to see clearly, had wild blonde hair, a sharp grin, and the most glam rocker outfit she'd ever seen. A white poets shirt opened to display a generous amount of skin and a golden medallion, the black leather waistcoat perfectly matched the criminally tight black velvet pants he was wearing, and his knee high black boots were so polished they caught the light. He was reckless, wild, breathtaking. As the song, and its provocative dance moves finished, the stage was awash with light. Sarah's mouth dropped open. Surely that couldn't be Jareth? Jareth was tailored suits and business reputation and elegant style. But, at dinner that night he had said that he could sing, and that he'd proved it with Fame for all the irony. Still, Sarah couldn't believe it. Lawrence sighed, muttering something about having told him to prepare her. Sarah opened her mouth, about to demand an explanation, but a familiar voice washed over her. "Good evening, ladies, gentlemen and Vendice-"

"Evening!" Vendice's voice called, easy as you please. Lawrence slapped the back of his head.

"My name is Jareth Regent" he continued, his voice a seductive purr. "Welcome to my Labyrinth." He winked at their table, slipping easily into the Man Who Sold The World. Lawrence began to explain, but she cut him off with a glare. Sarah didn't want to talk, she wanted to listen to the magic that Jareth was creating. He was amazing. Totally insane and far too liquid for anyone's good, but easily the best performer she had ever seen.

"How many?" Sarah hissed in the breath after the song.

"Three, four, five" Vendice shrugged. "Depends on how much he's showing off."

He apparently was showing off a great deal, moving from Blue Jean to Cat People (looking at Sarah every time he sung about green eyes), effortlessly hitting the high notes in Life On Mars, strutting around the stage to Fashion, and even going as far as to call Vendice up to the stage to sing Under Pressure and Dancing In The Street. Finally, though Sarah wasn't complaining, Jareth finished with a slow, perfect rendition of Time, and a crowd-inclusive version of All The Young Dudes, before calling his DJ back up to take care of everyone. He was simply magnificent. Lawrence caught her stunned gaze and grinned again.

"Yes, that really was Jareth, and yes people have been trying to get him to record an album for years. He won't, says nobody really needs him to, they can just buy Bowie instead. Something he wholeheartedly endorses being the fan that he is. This is his escape from the normal business world."

"When he said that music was his refuge, I didn't think he meant it quite like this" Sarah managed, watching Jareth in his full Goblin King regalia approach.

"Intentionally so" Lawrence murmured, Vendice getting to his feet.

"You are such a peacock, Jareth " Vendice announced, grinning smugly. "Great advertising though." Jareth rolled his eyes at him, Sarah smiling so wide her cheeks hurt. Jareth, upon seeing her, ducked his head in almost sheepish embarrassment. It was as if he were afraid of her reaction. It hit her like a freight train full of obvious.

"You're him, aren't you?" Sarah breathed, chiding herself for not realising earlier. "You're the Goblin King." Jareth smirked and tilted his head in agreement. She rolled her eyes fondly at him. "You're even more of a crazy workaholic than I realised, Jareth Regent."

"Sarah!" Jareth chuckled, his eyes glinting. "Assume that if I'm awake, I'm working. That way my workaholism isn't going to take you by surprise. It's what works for this lot."

"When you are awake, you are working" Lawrence pointed out, winking at the faux glare Jareth directed at him.

"Shut up, John." Lawrence smiled up at him with a perfectly innocent 'who, me?' look that fooled nobody. Jareth lounged back in his seat, fresh glass of scotch in his hand. All the little things that he hadn't quite said came back to Sarah as she watched him playfully tease his friends. Labyrinth must have been the night job he talked about having as a Harvard student, which meant that he had been here at night, at Gruagach during the day, and still found time to graduate top of the class.

"Exactly how smart are you, Jareth?"

"Same as anyone else with a company to run, I suppose" Jareth shrugged, tiny spots of colour high on his sculpted cheekbones.

"Ha!" Vendice scoffed loudly again. The olive of his martini pointed at Jareth severely. "I am sorry for saying this, old friend, but liar, liar tight pants on fire." Blue eyes that were almost identical to Jareth's (save for the mismatched quality of Jareth's) sparkled brilliantly. "Not that I'm not flattered, Jare, but speaking as the only other person here who also owns a company, I only have an IQ of 156." Sarah couldn't believe her ears, had he just said that?

"Only?"

"153, unfortunately" Lawrence sighed, shaking his fist playfully at Vendice. "And I went to Oxford."

"So did I" Jareth muttered, looking uncomfortable with the conversation. But Sarah had always been too curious for her own good, and she smiled brightly at him.

"Really, Jareth?" Lawrence, clearly more of a tease than Jareth was willing to say, grinned at the pair of them.

"He has an IQ of 170, that he owns to." Sarah held up her finger, then promptly drained her wine. There was no way she was drunk enough to deal with this.

Jareth narrowed his eyes at the bastard he called his best friend. That wasn't how he had intended to deal with the situation. Sarah waved her hand at him, wordlessly telling him not to worry about it. There was also that familiar look that said Sarah was going to need something a lot stronger to drink. That was something Jareth could wholeheartedly endorse. With little more than a word, a blue bottle was delivered to the table. Vendice rubbed his hands together gleefully. "I'm glad you're finally relaxing a bit, Jareth. Now give me the bloody bottle, there's a good chap."

"Make your own priceless liquor, Ven" Jareth smiled pleasantly. He had no intentions whatsoever of letting Vendice near his drink. He had vivid memories of what happened last time they got their hands on the liqueur.

"Shut up and pour, Jack" Lawrence replied, his dark eyes twinkling. Jareth made a face, groaned and then poured very small measures of thick dark orange alcohol into their glasses. He rolled his in its glass like brandy, inhaling the sweet, slightly flowery bouquet. Vendice sipped his first, making an obscene noise as soon as it hit his taste buds.

"You're a rich, workaholic bastard with horrible taste in music, but Christ can you make alcohol."

Sarah smiled indulgently at them, sniffing at her own drink dubiously. "What is it?"

"Peach Punch" Lawrence sighed, almost an exact copy of Jareth's 'they're idiots but what can you do' sigh.

"Because it's fun to say when you're pissed" Vendice added, smiling wider than Jareth had seen in ages. Sarah bit her lip in a poor attempt at hiding her amusement.

"You, er, got pissed on this?"

"As newts" Jareth admitted, flashing a pointy grin. "And regularly. Simplistically, it's a very fruity peach liqueur, with an incredibly high alcohol volume."

"It's mean of him not to share it more often, isn't it?" Vendice pointed out, smirking at Sarah's reaction to her first taste.

"Jareth, this is-"

"I am aware" Jareth agreed, familiar with the glazed look of pleasure in her eyes. "I've been informed that it's, and I quote 'better than sex, drugs, winning the lottery, and that wild orgy in the Bahamas'." He leaned back, smug. "And, sorry, you can only have one glass at a time."

"But Jareth" Sarah pouted, sticking her pink bottom lip out. Jareth was gripped with the sudden desire to kiss it off her face.

"No" he said, only a little too sharply. Sarah snapped her eyes to his, Vendice and Lawrence doing likewise. He rubbed his forehead. "Much more than a handful of drinks of this leaves even me with compromised faculties."

"And that's without your friend around to make you lose your socks" Sarah quipped, lightening the tense atmosphere. Vendice choked on his sip of martini, coughing up a generous amount of gin.

"You told her about Tom?" Vendice's voice was raspy, whether from the drink or shock, Jareth couldn't tell.

"Just that he knocks your socks off" Sarah smiled innocently, her bright laugh sounding as the three men groaned.

"We have got to get some new stories" Vendice said, his Transatlantic voice warm. "I mean it's bad enough when Tom's here to perpetuate that bloody story, never mind us having nothing better to do than recycle it every time."

"How else would you explain Tom?" Lawrence wondered, eyes darting lazily to the blue bottle of Peach Punch.

"Decent fellow on the whole, bit of a dreamer. Fun, but don't ask for specifics unless you want to be permanently scarred" Vendice summarised easily, Jareth poking his tongue out at him. Immature? Yes, but totally bloody worth it.

"Which would work for most people, but not Sarah, my friend" Jareth remarked, head shaking. "Isn't that right, Sarah?" An overly innocent smile took over Sarah's face, and she blinked at him.

"Exactly."

"Knowing Jack" Lawrence leaned forward curiously. "I know he's told you more than you'll admit about us. So, why don't you tell us about yourself?"

"Well" Sarah drew out, cruel eyes sparkling with mischief. "I do enjoy a good game."

Once again, apologies for the lateness of the update.

Thank you for reading.

Reviews are always very appreciated.