Disclaimer: Labyrinth and all associated characters, places and situations belong to The Jim Henson Company. We do not claim to own the right fabulous David Bowie but do own many items which contain his image and voice and enjoy them very much (yes we are sad about the not owning Bowie bit but such is life - we deal with it). We do not claim to own anything but the original storyline and any original characters.

Written by: luna de faeries (magialuna and faeriesmidwife)

Rated: M

Summary: It's been seven years. Sarah and Jareth are both dealing with repercussions in their romantic lives due to memories of Sarah's visit to the Labyrinth. Surely proving that their idealized memories are obviously faulty will clear up this ridiculous problem and allow them both to move forward... or will it?

Category: Drama/Romance

Quicksand

"Esme, darling, do be reasonable," Jareth coaxed, reaching out with one gloved, placating hand.

She turned on him, eyes flashing dangerously. "Reasonable?" she spat. "Is it not reasonable to expect that you remember my name, especially at such a moment? Who is this... this tramp whose name you spoke?"

Jareth shook his head, ignoring Esme's dig at Sarah. Reminding himself that she knew nothing of Sarah and was merely reacting out of anger and embarrassment, he went on patiently. "She is no one," he lied glibly, patting the cushions. "Come back to me, my beauty."

"No," she pouted, fighting with her pale pink corset.

It had started out as an exceptionally pleasant evening. Fine food, drink... a very beautiful and intelligent companion willing and more than eager to share his bed. How had it ever gone so terribly wrong? Jareth pondered the events of the ruined night as Esme pulled on her gown in an agitated fashion.

"Please," he cajoled, again patting the empty space beside him. He briefly considered getting up and crossing the room to her but decided against it. He was a king, after all. Dropping his voice a notch, he said, "I promise you it won't happen again."

She laughed bitterly, hastily shoving pins into her messy dark curls. "I promise you that nothing will ever happen between us again, Jareth." Launching into her native tone, she tagged on some choice expletives that made him flinch.

"Come now," he replied, still internally reeling from his slip-up. Perhaps he ought to at least rise from the bed. Standing, he pulled on a plush black velvet robe, tying the sash around his trim waist. "We've had such a lovely evening so far..."

"Yes, we did... Until you called me by the wrong name!" she exclaimed, her green eyes flashing. Green, but not quite exactly the right shade of green... "Honestly, I know you have a lot on your mind, Jareth, but you've known me for a very long time! It's not as though we just met tonight, which would be bad enough. I've never been so insulted. Most men think of me as rather unforgettable."

"As you are," he agreed earnestly, slightly annoyed at her mention of 'most men'. "Darling Esme, please..."

She gave him a cold glance before before storming out of his chambers... in an elegant ladylike manner, of course. Jareth sighed as he watched her go and prepared to spend a lonely evening with a glass of wine and a book.

Everything had been going extraordinarily well until, for just a split second, when he had pulled his lips from hers to kiss her exquisite throat, Esme's beautiful dark hair and catlike green eyes had forced a memory to the forefront of his mind, unbidden. Before he had a chance to think, the name had passed his lips.

'Sarah.'

For the next ten minutes Jareth had attempted several times over to apologize... for there was no explaining. He knew well enough the greatest sin when with a beautiful woman was to allow another's name to pass one's lips. Of course, during the height of passion it was an even worse crime, he reminded himself guiltily. Esme's look of horror, jealousy and outrage was forever imprinted on his mind. If it were anyone else, this might seem a bit amusing. As it was his error however, it wasn't quite so funny.

The beautiful dark-haired Fae woman was generally a very even-tempered, pleasant companion, Jareth mused, watching from the window as she hurried out of his castle in high temper. Of course, he thought dryly, she had every right to expect him to address her by her own name; he had certainly known her long enough. Many decades -- centuries -- actually. He still wasn't exactly certain how he could have slipped and called Esme 'Sarah' -- he simply did not do such things. Granted, his love affairs had become somewhat routine over the last couple of years... but he had always been considered an extremely desirable and considerate bed partner. After all, one heard such things, even if they were about oneself. The females of the Fae nobility may not want to be the Goblin Queen -- an imminently undesirable position primarily due to the necessity to put up with his inane, chicken-obsessed subjects -- but they definitely had always found the Goblin King a more than acceptable lover.

Idly he conjured a crystal to view the owner of the name he had called out in the heat of the moment, the mortal female who had without even knowing it caused him a great deal of grief just now. He was fairly certain that Esme would keep his slip of the tongue to herself; he couldn't imagine her confiding to anyone that she had not been foremost on his mind. Her pride rivaled his own, after all. Yet, it had always been a matter of great honor to him that when he was entertaining a female, he focused all of his considerable charm exclusively on her. This lapse of focus was unacceptable and highly embarrassing, not to mention disconcerting. He had never so much as kissed Sarah; why was she disturbing his thoughts at such a time?

He turned the crystal, watching the scene it contained with interest. He realized that the girl had changed much since last he had seen her; her beauty had increased as she developed from a lovely if coltish child to a lush woman with generous curves. He watched her closely, attempting to ascertain the meaning of her current odd behavior. As understanding dawned, so did amusement as he saw within his crystal that Sarah was currently in as ill a temper as Esme had been during her dramatic departure.

He smirked broadly. It served her right, he thought. She had been ever so concerned about 'fairness' as a child. His gleeful grin spread as he realized her righteous furor was directed at him! So the girl did remember their short time together as vividly as he... He found it strangely comforting to think that at least he had not managed to ruin his evening by breathing out the name of a girl who did not even remember his existence, as he had been so sure until mere seconds ago was the case.

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As Jareth mused on his romantic woes a world away, the twenty-two year old subject of his musings had woes of her own to contend with. It was Friday night and she had just returned home from yet another dismally boring date with an attractive, desirable, single man. She had put everything she had into kissing him goodnight, and felt about as much desire as she would for her favorite potted ficus.

Sarah groaned. "I'm doomed!"

Or perhaps, her mind teased her, she simply had no basis for comparison.

Where had that thought come from? However, as soon as she realized what it implied, she realized that this was all his fault, as usual! She had been perfectly fine before that tight-pantsed bastard had spirited her off to the Underground. Of course, she'd been little more than a child when she'd gone through the Labyrinth so she hadn't fully understood seduction at the time. Nor had she even truly realized how seductive the Goblin King really was until a few years had passed and she had extensively reflected upon his charms. She remembered vaguely thinking in a detached sort of way at the time that he had been handsome -- beautiful, actually. He had flustered her, frustrated her and basically overwhelmed her completely. Powerful and intimidating, he had appeared to be a truly self-important preening jerk, she thought angrily.

So... Why on earth did she compare every man to him?

He probably wasn't even any good as a lover. This attraction, this ridiculous, meaningless fixation, was all in her head. Books couldn't be judged by their cover, after all. Sure, he was good-looking -- but so were most of the guys she went out with! Of course, they didn't wear ridiculously tight pants that left very little to the imagination... Crap. No, Sarah... think about something else.

He was all image and no substance, she told herself. Sure, he could do magic but he was an arrogant, smirking creep. She was only idealizing him because he was also a dashing, magical, fairy tale king who wore leather and had unnerved her when she was at such an impressionable age. The more she thought about it, the more piqued she became. How dare he ruin her love life for years afterward just because he overwhelmed when she was a little girl seven years ago?! He probably didn't even remember her now! Sarah ignored the little stabbing pang at the thought that the Goblin King might have... probably had... must have forgotten all about her.

But how to get past this?

She would never see him again, so there was no way to know if he still even looked as good as she remembered. Memory could be a tricky thing. She'd been running on adrenaline because of her need to save Toby, and was so excited by the adventure she was on, that she was certain her memory had greatly exaggerated his effect on her. So revved up had she been that she had actually stood up to him not once but several times! She doubted she would have the gumption to do that again...

Wait a minute... what if she could see him again? What if? Once the thought presented itself to her mind, she couldn't stop worrying at it like a hangnail. What would happen if she called him right now? Would he answer? Would he come? Even if she did call him, what was she going to say to him? She sighed deeply. It would be terribly embarrassing to call the Goblin King to her bedroom to explain that she needed to kiss him just to prove to herself he was nowhere near as good as she was imagining him to be.

Of course, she could call him to the living room, rather than the bedroom.

She continued turning the idea over in her mind as she showered and changed into a comfortable pair of dress slacks and a cashmere sweater that just happened to be a deep emerald that brought out her eyes. If she did decide on going through with this insanity, she was going to look good doing it, damn it. She continued plotting out in her mind what she would say to him and how she would act, certain she'd never have the gall to actually go through with it. She lightly applied makeup and brushed her dark hair until it shone.

She poured herself a glass of wine and sat on the living room sofa, continuing to alternately plan for and talk herself out of this hare-brained scheme. But what other alternative was there? Give up dating for the rest of her life? Never get married and have a family? If she didn't get the Goblin King out of her system and prove to herself he was not this ideal she'd imagined... well, she'd never get interested enough to ever take things far enough to get married! She'd become a dried-up old spinster or nun. Maybe she ought to just convert to Catholicism now, she mused bitterly, replenishing her glass.

The mental image of herself as an eighty-year-old in a habit shook her a bit, cuasing her to drain her glass and refill it. She wanted a husband and kids... a husband who fascinated and turned her on -- like several of her friends had already found. Hell... Jeanine, her best friend, had just had her first baby. Little Evan was beautiful and so perfect -- Sarah had nearly cried holding him for the first time. She had realized immediately when she picked up Jeanine's baby how very much she wanted -- needed -- a family of her own. If she kept up as she was doing, it would never happen for her. Frowning, she stared at her wine glass. How had she finished the wine so fast? How many glasses was that... two or three?

She set her glass down, suddenly even angrier than she had been before. "This is all your fault, you smug son of a bitch! Do you hear me?" she shouted, angry green eyes darting around the room. "Why don't you show up and let me get you out of my system, you jerk? I want a real life... a family." She blinked away the hot tears that threatened to fall and ruin her makeup. Damned if he'd see her cry. "I wish to see Jareth the Freaking Bastard Goblin King, right now," she demanded. He probably wouldn't even bother, she realized, nearly laughing aloud in mild hysteria. She had no one to wish away; why would he show up? Still, a familiar adrenaline was beginning to course through her veins.

Oddly, despite her tirade, she was a bit startled to hear his irritated voice as he materialized behind her. "You summoned, my lady?" he demanded icily. She spun around to face him as he said, "Do you have a reason for screeching at me to the high heavens?" He glanced about in apparent boredom for effect and continued dryly, "I fail to see your baby brother imposing upon your precious time."

Sarah took a few instinctive steps back as he spoke, and fell onto the couch inelegantly. So much for grace under pressure. "Yes, I have a reason for calling you... A very good reason, you arrogant, self-important pri..."

"Tut tut tut..." He waved a gloved hand at her tirade. "I fail to see how your verbal listing of my rather obvious personality traits and charms constitutes a reason for pulling me from the comfort of my chambers to this infernal place," he interrupted sarcastically.

Sarah took a deep breath, a gulp of her wine for courage, and decided to just blurt it out. "Fine. I called you here to assist me with a ... uh..." She paused, taking another swallow of liquid courage. "...A problem I have. A problem of, well... You see, you... I... Oh, hell. It's about an erroneous impression that was made years ago that rather than fading away as it should have, has caused me considerable grief."

One brow arched up. She had his interest, at least. "Explain."

She glanced at his annoyed face and wanted to smack him, but that would hardly convince him to agree to her request. "I'm getting to that! My problem is that I remember you as too much of an ideal... I mean, yeah, you scared the hell out of me when I was fifteen, but you also brought out some... confusing feelings that I'd never had before. And now, since I'm remembering them from my faulty impressions as a young girl, I have a suspicion that they're much grander than they should be," she concluded, a bit nervously. "But even though I know this, I can't seem to move beyond it."

"Indeed," he stated with a broad smirk, lifting his perfect sweeping eyebrow even higher. "Well, I'm glad to know I left such an indelible impression, for I have some... impressions of you as well, Precious. Of course, my memories are of a young, innocent, fresh-faced beauty who challenged me with defiant spirit in her emerald eyes... I can see already that time has altered that impression," he continued sarcastically, enjoying her indignant reaction to his words. After a brief, rather tense silence during which she tried and failed to reply in-kind, his curiosity got the better of him. "Have you a suggestion then, as to what you feel is necessary to eliminate these false 'impressions' we both seem to harbor?"

Sarah blushed, still taken aback at his seemingly less than flattering assessment of her. True, she wasn't fifteen anymore, but she wasn't all that old, either. Twenty-two could hardly be said to be old! Telling herself it didn't matter and that she didn't care what he thought of her, she shook it off. She knew, however, that later, she would think it to death. "A kiss," she managed to blurt out before losing her nerve. "If we were to actually kiss, then... I know I'd realize that you can't be this insane ideal I've imagined for seven years."

At first he appeared somewhat stunned by her proposal but he quickly schooled his features into a haughty mask of indifference and nodded curtly. "Perhaps this idea of yours has a certain... merit." He looked her over coolly as though he was assessing nothing more than a side of beef, then strode over to her. Offering her his gloved hand, he pulled her to her feet to stand in front of him. They looked into one another's eyes warily for a moment. Then Sarah inched toward him, her heart hammering, and he leaned down, his eyes never leaving hers.

It started as an innocent brush of lips but immediately became much more. Jareth reached his hand up and caught his fingers in her silky hair. Sarah found her hands at his neck, fingers tangling in his wild platinum locks, pulling him just a bit closer. Pulling back slightly, she nervously licked her lip and inadvertently licked his as well, a gesture he must have enjoyed because he returned it, moving closer still and tracing her lips with his tongue. From there it then escalated rapidly into a all-consuming insanity that Sarah knew was exactly what she had known it would be. Only it was so much more. She had never experienced quicksand, but she suspected that sinking into it must be exactly like this. One wrong move and she felt she'd sink into him and never be able to get free.

Jareth smelled and tasted of exotic spice and dark magic and sex... No other man could smell like this; it was uniquely Jareth. She ran her hand over his back and rested it just above his tight buttocks, which she knew were tantalizingly poured into butter-soft black leather. With effort she resisted moving her hand lower.

Somehow the kiss deepened; somehow they pressed their bodies closer to one another. Sarah groaned and heard him groan back in answer. There wasn't anything but Jareth and the consuming need to devour his mouth and get as close as humanly possible to him. The kiss seemed as though it could go on forever, and indeed, Sarah wanted it to never end.

The phone rang, shattering the quiet which had previously been interrupted only by a series of quiet moans and gasps. Had she wanted to, she could have ignored it, but the harsh trill served to awaken some sense in Sarah, and she found it a good reason to end the kiss. They pulled away from each other almost guiltily, and Sarah noticed that Jareth appeared as stunned as she felt. His chest was heaving as he stared at her with a heady mix of confusion, lust and surprise.

Sarah picked up the phone, desperately attempting to control her breathing. "Hello? Yes. Okay. No problem, I uh... wasn't planning on going to practice tonight anyway. Yes, sir. Thanks, Professor." She hung up the phone and eyed Jareth warily from across the room. Needing something to do with her hands, she refilled her wine glass, poured a glass for him and walked back over to the couch to sit down, offering the second one to the Goblin King. He sat down too and took the glass from her, seemingly grateful for the slight distraction, and sipped at the wine intently.

After a few minutes of complete silence, Sarah blurted out, "Well?" She turned in alarm and hid the sudden blush on her face. She truly hadn't expected it to be that good. This really ruined the whole idea of getting him out of her system. If anything, she wanted to pick up where they had left off. Damn. She carefully schooled her features into a calm expression before facing him again. All those years of acting school would come in handy after all...

"I must remind you, my dear, that you called upon me for this little misadventure of yours," Jareth returned coolly, though his gaze focused on her mouth while he spoke. Did he still look a bit shaken, or was that her imagination?

"Misadventure?! You admitted it was worth a try... now you won't even say if it was worth it?" The nerve of this... goblin king. Damn him. She had no intention of admitting a thing to him -- much less grabbing him and kissing him again like her subconscious was currently campaigning for rather loudly.

"Perhaps it was worth a try, Precious. So... what have you ascertained from your little... experiment?" he returned quickly, with a raised eyebrow and a broad smirk.

His overt self-confidence and satisfied expression put her over the edge. It was as though he were expecting her to fawn over him and beg for another round of necking before he cast her aside forever and returned to his castle and hordes of adoring female admirers. Well, he was in for a rude awakening! "Just as I expected, actually. It was definitely overrated..." she lied quickly.

The flash of dismay was more than likely her imagination, quickly replaced by the far more characteristic expression of amused disbelief. "Ah, so we agree, Precious," he retorted, his eyes flashing. The smug bastard. How dare he agree with her? She had a mind to show him exactly... wait a minute... she was so not going to do that... "In fact, if I may be so bold, overrated may be too mild a statement."

Sarah felt her heart plummet but nodded sagely, biting the inside of her cheek to keep from showing her disappointment.

They sat and quietly sipped their wine, the tension in the room growing until it was nearly palpable. They were both lying, and she knew it. The kiss had been too perfect, too passionate to be labeled as overrated. Sarah stood and slowly walked into the kitchen, over to the sink, and sat down her empty wine glass. Then she turned and walked back to the living room. She leaned against the wall facing him and saw Jareth's eyes travel over her body and darken. He stood and strolled over to her, placing a hand on either side of her head against the wall, pinning her in place with his lean body.

"Perhaps..." he said finally, "just once more to ensure it was... nothing," he ground out with obvious effort before claiming her mouth hungrily.

Sarah felt the all-consuming fire rekindle and helplessly gave herself over to the kiss. He was intoxicating, devastating. She'd been so wrong... he was so much better than she'd ever imagined he would be. He seemed to reach into her soul with his kiss. Sliding his tongue erotically in and out of her mouth, he mimicked the act of sex as she frantically responded to him. She'd French-kissed guys before, but never had it felt like she was essentially having torrid sex with them with her clothes still on. His hands roamed her body, igniting fire wherever they touched and teased. She found herself desperately wishing her clothes were off, then was glad they were still on. She was so terribly conflicted and confused that all she could think of was the taste and feel of the man who was quite thoroughly kissing her breathless and senseless.

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Jareth couldn't believe the response this surprisingly naive twenty-two year old mortal had pulled from the depths of his immortal and jadedly experienced soul. He'd pleasured the most exotic queens, princesses, courtesans and concubines in the Underground and believed them to have been the epitome of sexual delights.

Somehow this innocent chit had unlocked a passion he'd not heretofore experienced. He found himself drowning in the very scent of her, an intoxicating combination of vanilla, wildflowers, red wine and the musk of her arousal. It nearly drove him mad. He kissed the sweet column of her throat, licking and sucking at her pulse point. He felt her dark silk hair against his face and breathed in the scent of it before frantically plundering her mouth once again.

As the obviously more experienced one of the two of them, he had to put a stop to this before it got more out of hand than it already was. But he was intoxicated by the taste and texture of her upon his tongue. Jareth wanted -- no, needed -- more. He slid his tongue against hers, awash in the intrinsic connection he felt with this ridiculously sensual girl. This was clearly insane. He was at least nine hundred years older than she, a little voice reminded him, yet he remained unwilling... unable to convince himself to stop. Sarah's hand accidentally brushed the front of his breeches and he was certain he'd come completely apart at the seams. He drew a shuddering breath, attempting to gain control over his raging body.

This was a mortal... The Mortal who'd defeated his Labyrinth and subsequently rejected him resolutely. He had to get the best of her. It was not acceptable to let her win again.

He place his palms at the side of her face, stroked softly and finally, pulling together the ragged edges of his control, put her away from him. Avoiding looking into her dark, passionate eyes, he turned away and somehow managed to state icily, "Perhaps this was not the best of ideas..." He conjured then dropped a crystal and disappeared from her home.

He reappeared moments later in his chambers and strode purposefully to his personal bathing chamber to take a decidedly cold bath. It was merciful that none of his inane subjects happened to cross the path of the somewhat furious and terribly frustrated Goblin King at that moment. He was in high dudgeon indeed.

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Sarah looked around her apartment in a daze. It had been twenty minutes since he had quite testily pushed away from her, quite suddenly turned icy, and informed her that her idea had been a bad one. She frowned and signed. He clearly was not going to return, which was a shame. She'd been on the verge of confessing many things to him. Things that she had never thought she would say to him... things that would render him quite in power over her once again.

Perhaps, as the Goblin King had said, this had indeed not been the brightest of ideas, she mused darkly. She had thought her impressions to be inaccurate, overrated... how impossibly deluded she'd been. She sighed shakily and went into the bathroom to remove her makeup and brush her teeth. That done, she changed and slipped into bed. Maybe, if she was lucky, the wine would kick in and help her sleep.

It didn't, of course.

She lay for hours, staring at the ceiling. So, okay... kissing Jareth to 'get him out of her system' had ended up rather like an alcoholic attempting to stop their drinking by over-indulging. A wry grin graced her lips as she pondered the possibility of a twelve-step program for Goblin King addiction. She was surprised, looking back, that they hadn't spontaneously combusted. Well, she mused, looking rather desperately for a bright spot in all this... at least this proved she wasn't frigid, as she had previously worried.

She shuddered. Jareth had seemed so... cold and terribly angry when he'd left. There was something else, though, behind the ire in his eyes, something smoldering and rather deliciously desperate. Obviously playing with the Goblin King was akin to playing with fire, because she had definitely gotten burned.

She turned over, attempting futilely to remove the imprint of overwhelming desire she'd felt in his kiss and embrace. From his end reaction, she'd obviously misread the situation somehow. She resolved to further her efforts to respond to one of the guys she was casually seeing. They were all incredibly good-looking, masculine and obviously experienced men. Surely she'd be able to get beyond this ridiculous teenage crush of hers.

But when she closed her eyes and at long last she drifted off to sleep, she dreamed of the tunnels under the Labyrinth. Of being challenged by a gloriously sexy Goblin King, and being kissed senseless after taunting him that his Labyrinth was a 'piece of cake.'

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Sarah would have been shocked to know how decidedly similar were the Goblin King's attempts to get her off his mind. With growing frustration, he tried to convince himself of the insanity of his actions in going along with Sarah's impulsive and highly immature course of action that evening. Even as Sarah planned and plotted which of the desirable young men currently pursuing her would work as 'practice dummies' to convince herself of the folly of summoning the Goblin King, his thoughts turned to similar diversions.

Jareth conjured thoughts of various Underground beauties... gorgeous, exotic creatures well-versed in the delights of the flesh and all the possibilities to be explored. He resolutely banned the thought of innocently passionate mossy green eyes from his mind and focused on creating fantasies based on his memories of several incredibly beautiful and uninhibited encounters from his past.

Sarah would have been most shocked were she to discover that the haughty Goblin King's dreams, after many hours of seeking his rest, turned instantly to standing in front of a brazen young -- but not so young as she had been on her initial trip -- challenger in the tunnels beneath his kingdom and demanding of her, "So, how do you like my Labyrinth, Sarah?" Only to find himself helplessly pulling her to him as she taunted him defiantly, "It's a piece of cake." Frantic dreams of crushing her innocent body to his and ravishing her mindlessly upon his cloak, deep in damp recesses of the Labyrinth, and watching her emerald green eyes go dark with wanton desire.

He awoke frustrated and furious with himself. He was no ridiculous mortal boy to mope about after a virginal maid! He was an imminently desirable and sought-after Fae King. The most exotic Fae and Elvin beauties were desperate for his renowned attentions.

This madness would cease.

He called his servant to him and ordered that he deliver a parchment to the Lady Alise, a titian-haired vixen he'd enjoyed immensely on many occasions. He tended to his daily responsibilities dutifully, if rather distractedly, until the evening came. He dressed, as was his habit, in a fine silk shirt, comfortably open to display his chiseled chest and pendant of office. It was much more comfortable than the gold crown he was forced to wear upon ceremonial occasions. His favorite black leather breeches fit him perfectly as did the highly polished black boots encasing his calves.

Jareth was lounging casually in the dining hall when Alise arrived, escorted respectfully and announced by Spilk, a rather small but relatively clean goblin, he noted with approval. As he rose to greet her she curtsied gracefully, bending over just enough to ensure he got a good look at the sumptuous breasts barely restrained within her luxurious deep burgundy gown. Her auburn hair was beautifully dressed and piled high, as always, in an elegant style on top of her head to show her slender neck to greatest advantage.

"Jareth, darling... it's been far too long," she drawled huskily and glanced coyly at him from beneath her spidery eyelashes as he offered her his hand to assist her in arising from her sensually executed curtsy.

"Indeed it has, Alise. Welcome back to the Goblin Realm," Jareth purred as he seated her gently at the table, which was elegantly set with an impressive meal. He poured wine into their goblets before seating himself.

They chatted amiably with a consistent undercurrent of teasing and blatant sexuality. Jareth knew very well what a complete wildcat dear, genteel Alise was -- it was why he had invited her, after all. All too soon dinner was finished and they retired to the drawing room to indulge in fine goblin brandy before a roaring fire. He was glad to feel the effects of the intoxicant taking hold of him as he pulled Alise close, kissing her passionately. She responded urgently, running her hands under his silk shirt, caressing his skin brazenly and teasingly running her fingers beneath the waistline of his breeches. He felt a momentary relief at his initial response to the beauty. Avoiding looking into her green eyes, he pinned her against the tapestry, plundering her mouth with abandon.

"Mmm, you're so delightfully wicked, Jareth," Alise murmured into his ear huskily as his hips ground into the dainty hand teasing wantonly at his breeches. "I thought you would never invite me back, it had been so long. I've wanted you ever so much."

He devoured her mouth with abandon, murmuring softly against her lips. It was so much better when she kept quiet... Had she always been so chatty?

She unbuttoned his shirt, slipping it from his shoulders with practiced ease and whispering brokenly in his ear, "Oh precious, delightful Jareth... You're the only one who makes me feel this way."

He caught a glimpse of her dark eyes as she heatedly peered at him through her eyelashes. It was a practiced and highly erotic sight that suddenly appeared far too practiced and not nearly so erotic as it once would have. She seemed to notice his hesitation and pulled his lips to hers, passionately assaulting him again in an effort to regain his full attention.

Jareth sighed heavily. Somehow, in that moment, the always irresistible allure of Alise felt suddenly cheap and tawdry. Her sultry green eyes were but a pale mockery of the innocent but completely uninhibited velvety eyes in his mind's eye. With a jolt, he realized that he felt... guilty. As though he were cheating.

"Precious... ?" Alise choked out, a confused and hurt expression marring her exquisitely made-up, porcelain features.

"Please... don't call me that, Alise..." he murmured haltingly, stroking his fingers over her jawline distractedly. "I... have much on my mind, my dear. I had hoped your company would soothe my spirit, but it appears my worries haunt me still." Fresh regret at his having used her assaulted him as he saw the humiliation, pain, and anger mar her perfect features.

Her pride took over rapidly and an expression of arrogance won out over all else. He knew very well Alise would not want him to know it if he'd hurt her. "Of course, Your Highness... You must have a great many worries. More than this silly girl could ever hope to understand," she parlayed, a coy expression returning as though it had never left her face. "I apologize for my inability to distract you from your responsibilities, if only for a short while," she continued bitingly. He saw a quick flash of hurt at his rejection, but it was quickly replaced once again by her fierce pride.

He ran his fingers over her face affectionately. She'd always been a friend -- not just a convenient and enthusiastic bed partner. "I am most grievously sorry, lovely Alise. Be assured it is neither your beauty nor your wiles which fail to remove the cares that plague me," he reassured her kindly. He knew that she could see in his eyes that he was being honest with her. He wondered if she could see also that every scrap of desire for her had just fled him and was unlikely ever to return.

She straightened her gown and tucked a stray lock of curly hair behind her ear. "We've known each other for a very long time, my friend," she replied quietly, clearing her throat. "I believe I'll take my leave now whilst we remain friends, dear Jareth." She turned, an entreaty in her eyes, and he flicked his wrist to transport her out of the Labyrinth, back to her home in the nearby lands of the Western Kingdoms.

Back in his private chambers, he walked to his washroom and splashed cold water on his face, then poured himself another glass of Goblin brandy. By all the hells, this was ludicrous, he seethed. To have lost interest in the most beautiful woman in seven kingdoms... for what? The memory of a fresh-faced, feisty mortal? A ridiculous chit of a child who argued and railed against him and had, worst of all, rejected his suit out of hand. But it wasn't that memory that beleaguered him, and he knew it. It was that of the girl-grown-up who had called him to her in order to kiss him and dispel the impression with which he had left her. She had virtually called him her ideal...

He threw his glass into the fire in a pique of rage and stormed out of the castle to wander his Labyrinth in the moonlight. He needed time alone to clear his head.

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Sarah awoke the morning after her encounter with Jareth with a slight hangover and vague memories of extremely explicit dreams. Firmly pushing the vestiges of those dreams out of her mind she got up, took some aspirin and lay back down to ponder the quandary she found herself in. Pulling out her address book, she flipped through it, attempting to stir her interest in some entry therein.

It struck her suddenly, like an epiphany: Joshua Thompson.

He was definitely a possibility. She'd met him two weeks ago and had been too shy and somewhat annoyed by her ever-present lack of interest in men to follow-up on his phone call. He fit several of the criteria she had decided last night that she needed to fill. He was extremely good-looking, he wore leather almost exclusively, was blond and blue-eyed. He rode a motorcycle, so there was a hint of danger about him... Yes, the more she thought about him, the better he sounded. She grabbed the phone from the nightstand and dialed his number before she could talk herself out of it.

She was inexplicably nervous waiting for him to answer the phone, her heart beating rapidly as she counted the number of rings. "Hi, Josh? It's Sarah, Sarah Williams, do you remember me?"

She was relieved when he indicated he remembered her and seemed pleased that she had called. "Sarah! It's great to hear from you again. Silly girl, like I'd forget a hottie like you," he teased.

Sarah laughed nervously to cover her embarrassment of his odd 'compliment'. It wasn't exactly romantic, and she certainly would never think of the Goblin King as saying something so goofy, but it was positive, she reminded herself. "I was just... uh.. calling to see if you still wanted to go out some time," she asked.

"Sure thing! How's tonight? Too soon for you?" he replied enthusiastically.

"No, it's not too soon at all; tonight sounds fine," Sarah answered, pushing herself to go through with her plan. It was too bad Josh didn't have an accent.

"Great, babe! I'll pick you up at six, if that's okay. Dinner and a movie good with you?" he asked.

Babe? Sarah cringed. Never mind, she ordered herself. Just answer him. "Sounds good to me," she replied, mentally considering her closet and what to wear.

"Awesome, gorgeous, I'll see you tonight," he replied, hanging up.

Sarah rolled her eyes, took a deep breath and steeled herself to carry through her plan for the evening. She was going to go out on a date with this incredibly hot guy, and she was going to like it, even if she had to do a couple of shots before she left to get over her horrible reluctance. Maybe she could get him to take her to a nice Mexican restaurant that served Margaritas, and she could enjoy some liquid courage with dinner.

She thought fleetingly of the fact that she hadn't really needed anything to completely lose herself in the Goblin King just one evening before. The wine had been only to get up her nerve to call him, and then something to fiddle with in her hands. She rapidly banned that train of thought from her mind. She was not going to think about Jareth or compare men to him anymore. She'd made the massive mistake of trying to get him out of her system, but she wasn't going to allow herself to dwell on it.

She spent the day doing housework and laundry, and when there was nothing else to do, she started getting ready for her date. She selected a lovely black dress that clung to her figure attractively but didn't show too much, and paired it with sexy high heel sandals and a small black bag. She selected the essential contents for her bag for the evening - lipgloss, compact, a brush, some cash in case she needed to pay for a cab, a credit card, and her identification. Perfect, it all fit nicely. She critically looked herself over in the mirror once again. Her make-up was subtle, just a small bit of powder, blush, eye shadow and eyeliner to bring out the green in her eyes, some mascara and a light, glossy lip stain. She wore her hair down, and had accessorized with some dainty silver hoops and a silver pendant with a small owl that she wore for luck when she felt in need of it. There was no need to analyze the reason for wearing an owl, Sarah reasoned. She tucked a stray hair behind her ear as she heard the doorbell ring and headed downstairs to go.

When she opened the door, she noted objectively that Josh looked incredibly handsome. His dishwater blond hair was slightly disheveled, he had a small goatee and a gold earring in his left ear. He was dressed in black, matching her nicely, with snug black slacks, a black T-shirt and a black leather jacket. Unlike the time she'd seen him before, he was driving a car tonight, obviously in deference to their date. She locked up and followed him to the sleek Mustang convertible at the curb. He helped her inside and shut her door.

"Any preference for where we eat, Sarah?" he asked, looking her over approvingly once he too was inside.

"Uh... does Mexican sound good to you?" she asked.

"Sounds great," he agreed, sounding more surfer than suave.

They ate at a restaurant called 'Ferdinand's' and Sarah followed her plan of sipping a few Margaritas for courage. Afterward, he drove her to the cinema and they decided for a movie all Sarah's friends had been talking about. It was an exciting and fairly sexy movie. Sarah found herself a little embarrassed to be watching it with a guy she barely knew, but pushed her nerves away, reminding herself sternly of her goal.

Before driving her home, Josh drove up into the hills and pulled into an area Sarah knew was a popular make-out spot for young couples. The area overlooked the city and actually had a very nice view, she reminded herself single-mindedly. Josh had been fairly affectionate but quite gentlemanly for most of the evening.

They sat and talked for a while in the moonlight, with Josh's arm around her shoulders. Suddenly, seeming reassured by her accepting demeanor, Josh reached over, tipped up her chin, and kissed her. His lips were pleasant, and he smelled clean. His hair was soft and long, just the way she preferred. Sarah curled her hand into it, leaning into the kiss and allowing him to deepen it. She tried frantically to force herself to feel some sort of desire for him as he became more and more passionate in his plundering of her mouth. He stroked her hair and thrust his tongue into her mouth enthusiastically.

Sarah found herself feeling as though she were watching the entire process outside her own body. She felt curiously detached from the moment. Taking stock of the situation and attempting to analyze it, she tried to find a clue as to what she was missing. She ought to feel something... She could smell his cologne, it wasn't too heavy a smell; it was actually quite nice. His mouth tasted of popcorn and chocolate, and he was a very good kisser. He moaned low in his throat lowly and Sarah realized he wasn't having the difficulty with getting into this that she was. Everything was perfect but it was just all wrong. It occurred to her suddenly that this was going to progress much farther than she wanted it to if she didn't stop him now. She pulled away from him, carefully keeping a friendly smile on her face.

"This has been a wonderful evening, Josh," she said softly. "I'd really like to go home now, though, if you don't mind."

Josh looked stunned for a moment, as if he heard but didn't comprehend her words. He seemed to pull himself together after a minute, though, and, nodding in bewilderment, he started the engine. He drove back to Sarah's apartment without saying a word and walked her to the door. "You want to invite me in?" he asked, a sly gleam in his eye.

"Maybe another time, when I know you a little better," Sarah hedged. She smiled, hoping to break the tension. "I just... I really don't usually get this hot and heavy on a first date," she admitted honestly. Unless I'm with the Goblin King, her mind added traiterously.

"Well, I'll choose to take that as a positive sign," Josh replied with an annoying, rather than endearing, smug grin. He put his hand under her chin again and leaned over and kissed her deeply once more. After a moment, Sarah pulled away, maintaining a smile as best she could. She thanked him for the evening, said goodnight, and walked inside her apartment, shutting and locking the door. She then went into the kitchen, poured a glass of red wine, and wandered into the living room, sinking down into her soft leather couch with a sigh of relief. She ran her finger around the top of the wine glass absently and wondered for a moment if this was the glass that Jareth had sipped from last night. She sighed deeply in frustration. This idea of putting him out of her head just wasn't working, she thought sadly. Jareth was more firmly entrenched in her mind now more than ever.

On some level, she realized that she had elected to go out with a distressingly poor imitation of the Goblin King. Josh did resemble Jareth with his long blonde locks and black leather... But of course, he didn't hold the powerful attraction for her that Jareth did, unfortunately. Regardless of his attractiveness and surface similarities, he lacked one vital element – he was not Jareth. She buried her head in her hands.

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Walking through the labyrinth in an area which bordered on his personal gardens, Jareth considered the purpose of ancient labyrinths -- a place to focus and center whilst pondering one's thoughts. That was exactly what the labyrinth was doing for him at the moment. He fondly remembered the simple days when he was much younger of walking a labyrinth to increase the power of one's spell, or merely as an aide in deep thinking or problem-solving. Jareth had been wandering in his labyrinth rather aimlessly for well over an hour when he became curious to see what she was up to. Had she found a desperately depressing way to spend her evening, as well? He flicked his wrist and brought forth a crystal, silently commanding of it, 'Show me Sarah.' He sat down onto the side of a nearby fountain.

It was amusing and perhaps provided a bit of ego gratification to realize that Sarah's little mortal plaything bore a striking similarity to himself. The long blond hair and predilection for black leather clothing was a bit of a giveaway, he realized with a self-satisfied smirk. However, as the date progressed and he peered at the girl occasionally over the next couple of hours, he found himself becoming quite irritated with the easy familiarity the unknown suitor showed toward Sarah. He had his filthy little human paws all over her repeatedly throughout the night, and Sarah allowed it... His ire only increased at the sight of Sarah and the boy passionately embracing inside his vehicle.

Annoyed, he threw the crystal as far away as he could, unable to continue watching the scene. As he calmed down, he realized that perhaps Sarah was attempting to find in that young man what she had in him. He knew that she had been as affected by their kiss as he had. Several times he had cursed himself for goading her the way he had. If he had only kept his mouth shut instead of taunting her, things might have turned out very different. As it was, he was here, trying to forget Sarah, and Sarah was there, obviously attempting to forget him.

What if she did forget him? Would she really let that mortal whelp stay the night? He couldn't bear the thought of it. Frowning, he started to conjure another crystal but stopped. Better to just go and break up whatever was happening, or was about to happen. After that kiss, he felt bound to Sarah. So much so that he hadn't been able to go through an entire evening with an enchanting and beautiful woman. Sarah had effectively ruined all others for him with just one little kiss, and he had a feeling that it wasn't a temporary situation.

His mind made up, he took immediate action. Moments later, he found himself standing in the very room where he had kissed Sarah. The room was very dimly lit and smelled of candles and wine. Galvanized into action, he glanced around the room but didn't see anyone there. He glared at the back of the leather sofa, sensing that it was occupied. Was the young interloper currently ravishing his Sarah? Was her pliant body pinned beneath his? His eyes flashed as he strode forward and looked down…

… at Sarah, lying on her back, a pillow propped under her head. She had her hair piled up in some sort of haphazard ponytail and wore a pair of black fitted breeches and a T-shirt bearing the semblance of a rather bizarre-looking chap and the words "Ziggy Stardust." She was also wearing some sort of electronic contraption over her ears, listening to music that he could barely hear emanating from the device. In her right hand she held a mostly empty glass of wine.

Her eyes were closed and it was quite apparent that she'd had too much to drink. But she was alone, and that was all Jareth cared about at the moment. He grinned as Sarah began to sing along to the music.

"Love me, love me, love me, love me, saaaay you do, let me fly awaaaay with yooou! For my love is liiiike the wind, and wild is the wind, wild is the winnnnnd! Yooooou touch meeeee, I hear the sound of maaandoliiiins. Yoooooooou kiss meee… With your kiss my liiiife begiiiins…"

Backing away from the sofa, Jareth smiled to himself. It was tempting to alert Sarah to his presence, but he decided that now was not the time. His main concern was alleviated; the young mortal clone of himself was nowhere near Sarah. Jareth knew that it had to have been by Sarah's choice, because her date had appeared quite ready to carry through with his attentions to their ultimate conclusion. Perhaps she had realized what she was doing was folly.

Would she call him again? He didn't know, but he hoped rather desperately that she would. After all, it would not look well for him to come to her. Besides, if he gave her a little more time, she might not only call him, but confess that she had been wrong when she referred to her assessment of his attentions as 'over-rated'. He prepared to leave, still grinning from ear to ear. The grin disappeared from his face when he heard Sarah's voice.

"What are you doing here?" she demanded, staring at him over the edge of the sofa, her elbows propped on the back of it. She had removed the listening device from her ears, leaving her hair an endearing mess of dark curls.

He turned, straightening his spine. "I merely came to make sure you were all right," he said smoothly, affecting an air of having planned for her to see him there. "Now that I have assured myself that you are, I am taking my leave."

This seemed to intrigue her, and he wondered what was going through her mind. She tilted her head. "And why wouldn't I be all right?" she asked reasonably. Despite her attempt to appear calm, he saw that she was wringing her fingers. She sounded clear and in control of her faculties; apparently she hadn't had as much to drink as he'd at first assumed. Which meant, of course, that her singing was just naturally that bad. He suppressed an amused smirk. It only made him love her all the more, for he realized in that moment, with a small start of surprise, that he did indeed love Sarah Williams.

Shrugging elegantly, he walked toward her, circling the room until he faced her. She followed him with her eyes, twisting around on the sofa until she sat straight forward, crossing one shapely leg over the other. "Well?" she prompted.

"I feared that after receiving my kiss, you might be somewhat... mesmerized," he said with a small smile as her eyes grew wider in apparent disbelief.

"Oh, really?" she scoffed, crossing her arms over her chest. "Mesmerized? You thought you'd return to find me still leaning against the wall, staring dreamily into space -- a day later no less?"

"It would not be out of the realm of possibility, precious thing," he replied with studied nonchalance. "I have left many a woman dazed and speechless in my time."

She visibly bristled, her eyes flashing jade fire. "Well, you can rest assured that I am not one of them, Goblin King," she informed him icily. "Your concern is unfounded. I'm sorry you wasted a trip Aboveground."

He cocked an eyebrow and began to move closer to her, intending to sit down beside her on the couch. Sarah, however, had other plans, because she got up quickly and moved away from him. Unfazed, he continued toward her, stalking. "Why so jittery, Sarah?"

"Go home," she said, her voice giving out as she spoke.

Shaking his head, he tsk'd at her. "Not quite yet," he countered silkily. "You see... when I was here before, I wasn't entirely satisfied with your assessment of our kiss. I think you were lying."

"What?!" she cried, pulling at her ridiculous Ziggy shirt. "I was not lying!"

"Regardless," he said, waving away her indignant denial as though it were of no consequence. "Your body belies your words, Precious." Moving steadily closer, he could see that her breathing was erratic and her cheeks were flushed becomingly. She already knew and anticipated what was coming.

She bumped against the very wall he had ravished her against the first time. Closing in before she could find the sense to escape, he leaned against her and felt her tremble against him. His body shuddered as well; it was as if they belonged together and had been wrongfully separated for many years. This was a reunion of souls... it was written in the stars, meant to be... destiny. Could she feel it too?

Sarah wasn't looking at him, her lashes were dark against her pale cheeks, hiding her eyes from him. Was she, perhaps, afraid of revealing too much? When she spoke, it surprised him greatly. Bereft of her earlier bravado, she whispered tremulously, "What are you doing to me? What game are you playing this time?"

"I was about to ask you the very same questions," he whispered against her earlobe. He licked the shell of her ear and heard her soft intake of breath. "You have bewitched me, Sarah, with very little effort, it seems. Confess that you cast a spell over me when last I was here."

Her eyes flew open in sudden alarm. "I didn't! I wouldn't know how, honestly," she protested, her expression sincerely pleading for him to believe her. He realized in amusement that she was mistaking his teasing for accusation. She went on hurriedly. "I... I just wanted to see if... to find out why I..." She swallowed, shaking her head. "I just had to know. It was stupid of me, a stupid idea, like you said before you left last night. I'm sorry."

Jareth brought a hand up to lightly caress her face, enchanted with her clumsy explanation. "It was not stupid, and I'm ever so glad that you called me," he replied quietly, his voice deepening with sincerity. "I had been yearning for you to do so for a very long time. I understand what you're trying to say because it has been the same for me."

Her surprise at his words caused her eyes to widen and her cheeks to flush again. "You're just saying that to tease me," she accused him. "Any minute now, you're going to laugh at me and then disappear again, this time forever."

In answer, his lips claimed hers in the heated kiss he had been wanting to give her since seeing her lying on her sofa singing her heart out. He traced her mouth with his tongue and felt her hands come up to grip fistfuls of his hair. Snaking his arms around her, he slid one hand under her top, against her warm skin. He felt her press into him and groaned as his body responded to hers as though they had been lovers for centuries.

They broke apart to catch their breath, but Jareth found he couldn't keep his lips off her. Dipping his head, he began a soft assault on her neck, drowning in the sweet scent of her. It was familiar and yet brand new at the same time. He could hear her breathing heavily and smiled when her head fell back. Reaching up quickly, he cradled it in one hand to keep it from hitting the wall.

"So," he drawled. "Does this mean you have revised your assessment of my kiss?"

Not missing a beat, she asked, "Care to change your opinion?"

Laughing throatily, he conceded. "Actually, I do, yes."

"Okay, then... Me, too," she replied, taking a deep breath. "But... Jareth... I think we need to slow down a little bit. Not that this isn't lovely, because oh, gracious is it lovely... It's just that I don't really know you. It's a bit overwhelming right now, but I feel like we need to take our time and get to know one another before we... before we take things any further."

He closed his eyes and struggled to calm his breathing. "All right, then, darling girl," he agreed reluctantly. "Tell me about yourself. Tell me everything about your family, your job, your friends, your favorite things... everything you can think of. And then, I will tell you everything about myself."

She laughed as he resumed his attentions, kissing her face and forehead. "Jareth, what's with all the questions? What's the rush?"

"We must get to know one another better immediately, Precious," he commanded, surprised when she started to giggle. "I'm not trying to be amusing, Sarah; I'm perfectly serious. Why are you laughing?" he demanded.

Growing serious, she kissed him soundly, to his surprise and delight. Then she said, "Because you've made me incredibly happy, that's why..."