Disclaimer: The Labyrinth scripts, movie, and books belong to their respective creators. This story is presented solely for entertainment purposes. The story and its characters and entities are fictional. Any likeness to actual persons, either living or dead, is strictly coincidental.

Midnight Romance

Cold. Dark. Silence.

Broken - by water churning, by the sound of lungs inhaling precious air - to live, having gone without for so long.

No light outside, the pool was canopied above by dark green canvas, protecting it from the stars. From this haven she emerged and stepped into the outside shower.

Jareth watched from the shadows - always from the shadows. This was his favorite part of her day. His eyes blazed with lust as he watched soap and water slide in rivulets between her breasts and down her stomach; watched them pool for a second or two at the small of her back and twist around her calves.

Sarah stepped from the shower with the grace of one completely at home inside her own skin. A woman who knew the pleasures of the flesh and was satisfied. How did he know? Because it was he who had given it to her.

Since their first encounter she often dreamed of him, calling out his name in her sleep. Unable to withstand the call any longer, he came to her. She was twenty and beautiful beyond his wildest dreams. At his touch she awakened. She reached for him, pulling him into her bed, her lips pressing against his. She thought he was just a dream.

He delighted in her scent, her sounds, her taste. He leisurely discovered every inch of her. When she could take no more teasing, he joined them as one. This image of her - her nails raking his skin, her head thrown back, her body arching into his - this image was etched into his memory for eternity.

For weeks after, he watched closely for any sign of repulsion. He found, instead, that her thoughts turned to him at odd moments when she thought no one was looking. She would sigh, touch her lips, and smile.

She was never alone. He was always with her. She had her would-be suitors, of course, that were endured with grace and dignity. They patiently waded through kisses thrown her way in an attempt to win her favor. She denied them all. She only dreamt of him; she only called for him.

His thoughts were shattered by the soft light illuminating the sliding glass door leading to her kitchen. He watched her remove what little she wore, hang it to dry, and step into the house.

Despite their need of one another, he would not go to her. "Soon," he whispered. "Soon." He faded away.

The blaring alarm clock sounded only a handful of seconds before it hit the wall with a resounding thud. In the quiet of mid-morning, the only other sound was a loud groaning from the body buried beneath the sheet.

A fist emerged to beat the pillow in irritation. Despite the urge to remain in bed, Sarah knew she had to start the day. They would be coming for her soon to escort her to another gathering, another luncheon, another signing. There was always something of "utmost importance" that needed her attention.

Bare feet hit the floor as she lay back across the bed to stretch, arms overhead, fingers wiggling in a futile attempt to touch the opposite wall. She rolled up into a sitting position, her shoulders heaving from one big, unhappy sigh.

Throwing on her robe, she stumbled downstairs into the kitchen and put on a pot of strong coffee. She was not enamoured of it, preferring to drink tea, but today she needed all the help she could get. While it brewed, she stood at the patio door greeting the day. Despite how little sleep she had gotten, she was glad to be awake. Morning was not her best time, but on occasion, there were perfect ones. This seemed to be one.

She sighed. She had dreamed of him again. Another culmination of pleasure. She smiled and stretched, arms reaching towards the ceiling. He was strong, gentle. He knew every inch of her.

She rubbed the back of her neck. She could still feel the kisses he lavished upon it. She could still feel his lips softly pressing against her skin, his tongue tracing lightly across. She groaned as her body flushed with remembrance.

She stood on the balcony from her room, enjoying the night air, reveling in the dark. Suddenly, he was at her back - his arms around her, his warm body firmly affixed to hers. She clutched at him, on her feet only because he held her up. He carried her to her bed and there they remained. The only sounds were hers, begging him not to stop. In the hour before dawn, both of them spent, he disappeared as quickly as he had arrived.

She slid down the patio door frame, her insides quivering. He knew her too well. Her life could not be classified as normal - she did not want it that way.

It was the fragrance of coffee that brought her back to her senses. She got up on weak knees, poured herself a tall mug, and went back upstairs to get ready.

Turning the key in the lock, Sarah was never so glad to be home. It had been one hellish week and she was about to collapse. She had been dragged to every book signing and exclusive author's gathering that could be found.

She dropped her briefcase and keys on the table in the foyer, kicked off her shoes and removed her jacket in the kitchen, grabbed a pint of chocolate fudge sundae ice cream from the freezer, wandered into the living room and sat it on the carpet, peeled off her hose, blouse, and skirt, and collapsed on the overstuffed and incredibly soft couch.

If she learned nothing else today, she had learned this: she hated people. If one more person tried to air-kiss her cheek and gush over how fabulous she was... It was enough to make her gag.

She reached down and picked up the softening ice cream, taking her time in devouring it all. She savored the taste of rich chocolate, enjoying its iciness as it slid down her throat and the cold metal of the spoon as she licked it clean between bites.

After scraping the bottom of the container, sighing as she realized it was gone, she decided she needed music to help her relax. She dug into her CD collection and found something soothing. As the first strains swelled through the speakers, she began to move, her hips swaying in perfect rhythm to the beat. By the time the first song ended and the second began, she had thrown open the doors of the patio and sauntered outside. Her moves were now independent of the music, obeying only the rhythm found within.

Late afternoon had turned to night and she had noticed none of it. The only light left was from the sliver of moon hanging in the heavens. She hated light, would rather have the dark. And living on the top of a hill alone had its advantages. There was no need to bother with curtains or blinds or shades or anything that would spoil her lovely view.

She was unaware of the eyes that watched from the shadows. A body materialized around those eyes, a smile formed, and teeth glowed ghastly white in that expanse of darkness. Jareth slowly glided into view as she slowed her movements, her hips gently kicking from side to side every so often.

The woman was beautiful. He had known this from the first moment she had called upon him as a child. But she had been only a child and far too young to know, to understand. She understood now, however, he had made sure of that. Silently, he pulled her into his arms. He matched his dance to hers, guiding her gently back into the house.

She stared at him, lifting her hand to touch his face. "You came back." She smiled.

"Always," he whispered, and prevented any further conversation by covering her mouth with his.

He noticed, with amusement, at how quickly she had undressed him. Her hands found the right amount of pressure to exert on his skin and she nearly drove him mad as she caressed him. When she followed the touch with a lick of her tongue or a playful bite, he would shudder helplessly. He was caught under her spell and his one wish was to stay there forever.

He reached for her, begged her to end this sweet torture. She only chuckled wickedly and pushed him away, finding a new place on his body to christen as hers. Just when he thought he would keel over into the depths of insanity, she whispered, "Now." That was all he needed. He grabbed her hips and joined them as one. She quickly matched his frantic rhythm; one crying out for the other as the fire spread between them...

And that was how it went for the next three days. With the gate locked and the phone off the hook, every second they could spare, they spent in love's embrace.

Watching her move about the house, Jareth was quite proud. The woman glowed. Brightly. He felt a sense of wonder that he was able to move her so. There was no doubt. She was his and he belonged to her. It was meant to be - he was sure of it now.

His thoughts were interrupted by her kiss. She was reaching for him. Again.

Sarah felt - if it were possible - that she would dissolve into nothing - literally. Never had she felt such satisfaction. She was relaxed; she was complete; she was utterly content. Sighing, she took another sip of tea. Both had slaked their lust long enough to have a proper meal. She sat at a table next to the pool, watching the sun rise.

Not a care in the world. That was her lot in life at this moment. Her book finished, she had no worries about another for a few months. Which was just as well - she had no idea what to write about next. Her last book had been a light romance. This time... Perhaps something dark, something filled with angst, something designed to frighten- She jumped as he spoke softly into her ear.

"Hard at work already, I see," he chuckled, sitting down next to her. She turned to look at him, memorizing his angular features. Dressed in nothing but a pair of flowing, silken pants, they only served to emphasize his tall, lean build that looked out of place draped across the chair.

"You know too much," she retorted, smiling as she sat her cup down. She held out her hand to him and he lifted it to his lips, kissing it softly.

"I would not be a good ruler otherwise." Covering her hand with both of his, he leaned towards her, resting his elbow on the arm of the chair. "Do you find me so arid that the moment I am out of your sight, your thoughts turn elsewhere?" He uncovered her hand and kissed it again. "I would have hoped that after three days of resplendent passion, you would think of nothing else."

She smiled. "One cannot live by King alone." Staring at him, her smile slowly faded and ache flared. He would be leaving soon. And she would be alone again. "Must you return?"

His face, his eyes - they betrayed nothing of the emotions roiling within him. "I am a King. I have duties." He squeezed her hand. "Return with me."

She frowned, now full of sorrow. "You know that's not possible."

They stared at one another, both cursing what fate had given them. Standing, he pulled her into his arms, his lips seeking hers, his fingers tangling into her hair.

She pressed against him, taking what he would give. Opening her mouth, she offered him entrance, allowing him to explore her. Her hands slid from his shoulders to his chest, her fingertips tracing his warm flesh. How she longed for this to last, to be held and secured into his embrace for all time. Lifting her head, she offered his lips full access to her neck, mewing softly as he bathed her skin with his tongue.

Her knees gave way when he nibbled on her ear, loving that moment when his grip tightened around her to hold her up. She moaned to him then, voicing her pleasure at his eager attentions.

"Let us not waste what time we have left," he whispered, lifting her, her toes dangling above the concrete. Burying his face into her hair, crooning to her, she clung to him as he carried her back into the house.

NOTE: I missed this one being out here. I had to put it back.