Okay, so this is my new story. I haven't ever written a labyrinth fic before so bare with me please. I would REALLY appreciate feed back so I know if this is reasonable. BEsides that...Thanks for reading and enjoy!

Cleo Hunter raised her head from her arms and blinked groggily. She had been working on her latest costume design. Rubbing her eyes with the heel of one hand, she sat up and felt something on her head wobble. Reaching up carefully, she prodded her new hat. The hat hooted and jumped from her head, fluttering to land on top of her sketchbook.

Cleo smiled at the familiar little owl. Nearly two years ago she had found him on a branch outside her window. Thinking him wild, she had admired him quietly but kept her distance. He, however, had other ideas and had sat outside her window every evening until she had opened the window. He had fluttered in, immediately heading toward her desk and, landing there, studied the sketches that were out. From then on, he made from two to seven appearances a week, watching her work and stealing her food.

Many would have shooed the bird away, but since he caused no trouble and left no mess, Cleo let him stay. In fact, she rather enjoyed his company. She was the kind of person who existed for their job. Her life revolved around her costumes and she left little time for anything else. She took no time for men or much of anyone for that matter. They only took up time that she preferred to use drawing.

Still, she often became lonely and wished she had a companion, no matter what kind. She knew that a pet was out of the question since she often worked long and inconsistant hours and a human companion would, no doubt, become quickly bored with her ramblings about hems and embroidery. Just when she was becoming a little depressed, Poof had showed up.

He took care of himself and was more then willing to listen to her talk, watching her work from her desk, shoulder, or head. He had a funny way of telling her what he thought but he always managed to get his point across. Cleo knew that he couldn't possibly know what she was talking about, but she liked to think he did.

Reaching out, she poked him in his soft and fluffy belly. "Hey there, Poof." She glanced behind her at the open window then back at her feathery paper weight. "Guess you never heard of knocking." Poof looked up at her and tilted his head giving her a look she interpreted as, I have heard of it, I just won't do it. Smiling at him she tried to move him from her sketchbook only to receive a gentle nip for her efforts. "I need to work." The barn owl blinked once and took a couple steps toward her, Pet me, he seemed to say.

Biting back a sigh, Cleo scooped him up and began to stroke him. "This what you wanted, Poofy?" The owl gave her an annoyed look.

It had been after nearly a week and what Cleo swore was two thousand male names (Poof had been adamant about the gender), that Cleo had given up trying to please him and simply gave him the first name that came to mind. He had not been pleased but when she threatened to call him Fluff-For-Brains he accepted, however grudgingly.

"You're awfully scruffy." she commented absently to the owl in her arms. Poof poofed.

Fluttering from her arms he stalked to the edge of her desk and turned his back to her, a clear statement of, I'm not talking to you.

Laughing softly she stood from her swivel chair and rounded the desk to face him, he shuffled around and presented her with his back again. Laughing outright now, she followed him and stopped in front of him, bending so they were eye level. "I'm sorry. You're a very handsome owl." He gave her an imperious look so she continued to croon between giggles. "Pretty bird. Pretty, pretty bird." He eyed her for a moment longer before extending his neck slightly with an If you must look.

She scratched him gently under his chin, still cooing. After a moment, Poof began leaning into her hand, his eyes half lidded. This only made her laugh more and she continued her ministrations.

Eventually, Cleo decided she needed to get back to work so she nudged Poof gently off her sketch pad and picked up where she left off.

After wandering over to what was left of her dinner and selecting a piece of bacon, Poof fluttered up to her shoulder where he sat, watching her. As was normal, Cleo soon began to talk about her current design. Genuinely interested, Poof listened.

"I've just got the commission for this new movie L&X studios are producing. I haven't got the entire plot out of them yet but I know it's set in Victorian England." She paused in her drawing to gesture at the elaborate gown she was half done drawing. "That means I get to design all of those beautiful old clothes." She was crowing and Poof added his own congratulatory hoot. Beaming and babbling, Cleo went back to sketching.

Three hours later, Cleo was nodding off over her sketch pad when Poof hooted loudly. Bolting up she looked around then sighed and picked up her pencil. Poof hooted again and when she ignored him, he hopped from his perch on the back of her oversized chair and landed on her pencil.

Less then half awake, Cleo flapped a hand at the little owl who didn't move.

"I want to finish that design." She told him, words slurring slightly. He seemed to scowl before stalking forward and hooting at her again.

Knowing the routine, Cleo stood, sketchbook in hand and allowed Poof to herd her from the room. "You're worse then my mother." She grumbled wandering into her bedroom. "She hated me falling asleep over my work too." She dropped her sketchpad on the bed and proceeded to the bathroom.

A moment later she returned, wearing loose grey lounge pants and an old tank top. She grabbed her sketch pad and headed for the door but Poof beat her to it, fluttering at face level.

She glared at him.

He glared back.

Huffing out a sigh, Cleo gave in and returned to her bed setting her sketchbook on the bedside table. She sent one last indignant look at the owl that was standing guard on her lamp, making sure she didn't get up.

She had long since given up trying to control the owl's coming and goings. He came and went as he pleased and she didn't really mind.

Already her eyelids felt heavy so she curled into her covers, muttered, "G'night ,Poof" and fell asleep.

The small owl watched as the young woman fell asleep, making sure she was genuinely asleep before changing. One moment a small barn owl fluttered, the next, the imposing figure of the Goblin King stood silently.

He moved to the edge of the bed and sat down, reaching out to brush some of Cleo's loose hair from her face. It was amazing, he mused, how some things could turn out.

He had originally come to her intent on influencing her designs to fit Sarah since she was auditioning for one of the movies Cleo had taken commission for.

The day after she had finally opened the window for him, Sarah had accepted another role in a different movie. Still, he had stayed, curiously watching the costume designer. Within a couple weeks he was making daily trips from the underground just to see her though he didn't always come as 'Poof.'

He winced. Honestly, what a name.

It was amazing what seven years could do. When he had first lost to Sarah, it seemed he would never be able to get her off his mind, yet as the years passed and he watched her grow, his feeling had changed. He no longer desired her now he simply wished to protect. Why? he had asked himself that many times but the best answer he could come up with was that he respected and wanted the best for her.

Jareth smirked slightly as Cleo pushed her head against his palm. She wasn't the most beautiful women he had seen, with caramel colored hair and olive eyes. But something drew him to her.

He had become more possessive over her then he was ever over Sarah. He was constantly scaring hopeful males away from her and it pleased him that she wasn't put out from the lack of attention. He also felt the constant need to look after her, pushing her to get a meal when she was too caught up in her drawing and forcing her to bed.

That thought drew an outright smile. Early in their relationship he had thought that eleven was pushing it and had tried to herd her to bed. That was the only time she had ever taken a swipe at him and locked him out. She had not been amused when she woke to find him sitting on her stomach. He no longer tried to make her sleep before one thirty any more.

Sighing deeply, he leaned back and looked at her. For the last several months he had been trying to figure out how to approach her.

He knew if he approached her as human she would turn him down as soon as she got the feeling of his attraction. She had done it with many before so he knew that was out.

He really doubted she would be happy if her owl friend suddenly turned into, well, him. She would probably shriek and start throwing her art supplies at him. Nope, definitely not the right approach.

After a number of other even less successful ideas he was left with one: Get her to the Underground and win her over there. That might work but he was first presented with the problem of getting her there.

He could, of course, simply take her there and refuse to return her but that didn't sit quite right for him. "I'd rather have you wish yourself to me." he murmured leaning forward to stroke her cheek again. "That would give me full possession of you." In her sleep Cleo wrapped one small hand around his wrist and hugged it to her, eliciting a lazy grin from Jareth.

He seriously doubted she was the kind that would wish herself to him and he didn't believe she had any siblings. "If only you would read that line from the book." He froze as he said that, a sly smirk coming to his face.

Letting out a deep chuckle he leaned forward and kissed her gently as to not wake her up, then, still laughing, he turned and left the room.