As always, the disclaimer applies. Sarah, Jareth, and the concept of the Labyrinth and all its creatures belong to Jim Henson and Brain Froud. I only wish they were mine.

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She felt him surround her an instant before his voice whispered in her mind.

Sarah. His usually cool, velvet-smooth mind-voice was drowning in pain and tinged with desperation.

Oh God. She automatically opened her soul to him, and gave him a sheltered place to rest in while his body was beaten yet again. Baby, you know it's worse because they can't stop your mind from escaping.

Surrounded by her love and sincere concern, awash in bliss the likes of which he'd never be able to explain, Jareth sighed softly. I am aware of that, but I will not submit, and you, My Dear, are the only thing that keeps me strong and sane.

His sincerity washed over her, and she cried softly. I wish I could help you.

You do help me, Sarah. Just by being there and giving me a safe place to retreat to. Now why don't you distract us both? He laughed softly as he felt her question. Not that, my love, not now. Instead, remember for me.

Sitting in her old chair, Sarah blanked her mind for a minute. She knew what he wanted her to remember. Though there was pain, overall it was a lovely memory, and as long as he was immersed in her mind, he could re-live it with her as she remembered.

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She'd been watching some sappy movie the first time it happened. Thinking of the unearthly beauty of the Goblin King and wishing it was them living out the story, she'd been startled to feel an intense longing, almost an ache.

In an attempt to discover where the foreign emotion came from, she opened a door in her mind and found herself in a completely unfamiliar place. Within seconds, she was unable to move, almost to breathe until an astonished presence brushed past her.

Sarah? She knew that voice so well, had dreamed of it's bearer for over a year, but she'd never expected to hear the shock and confusion she heard now. When she didn't respond fast enough though, his voice became the haughty one she was used to. How are you in my mind?

I don't know. I was thinking of…She stopped, unwilling to admit her folly.

You were thinking of me. Just as I was thinking of you. We are connected Sarah, we have been since you left my kingdom.

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He'd left abruptly after that, and the worst hour of Sarah's life had ensued as she lived through his capture by a rival fae; made possible because she'd been distracting him. She let that memory fly by, and focused on the first time he'd sought her out to flee his physical body:

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Sarah? Her heart pounded at the sound of his voice, the tone she would become so familiar with. As soon as she focused on him, she could feel the blows raining onto his body. She cried out, and instinctively opened herself up to him. His relief flooded her system as he joined his soul with hers and was free, temporarily, of the pain.

I need you to go somewhere quiet and isolated.

She didn't even bother to argue or ask why, she could feel the urgency behind his words. As quickly as she was able, she excused herself from the dinner table and went up to her room to lay on the bed. All the while she could feel the ghost of his amusement over her choice.

Sarah. His voice whispered seductively through her mind. Close your eyes and focus on me.

Why? Even as she asked the question, she was doing as he instructed, willing to do anything in order to keep him away from the horror of his reality.

Because I want to do this.

She felt his mouth on hers, moving soft and sweet. She moaned quietly, and the kiss instantly turned harder. His taste swept through her, all spicy male, and she spared a passing thought to wonder how she could feel and taste him. She was drowning in him, and she felt him smile against her lips moments before he pulled away.

That was wonderful. He purred.

Wanting to protest his sudden absence, Sarah bit her tongue. How…how can we do that?

She felt him consider. We have a very strong bond. Something about us calls to one another, and is trying to help us make up for the fact that we cannot connect physically. She could almost see his wolfish grin. Yet.

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Ten years. Jareth spoke quietly, almost to himself. Ten years I've been chained here, beaten nearly on a daily basis, and I've yet to experience the reality of you. I long for your taste, to feel you in my arms.

Baby, you have that.

His voice turned fierce, as it so often did when he started this conversation. No, my dear, I do not. This is a wonderful thing, but it is still purely mental. I want you. All of you.

Voice clogged with unshed tears, she concentrated on wrapping her arms around him. I know. I know.