Ok, this is just a little oneshot. Lots of my other stories have Celine DeLoup in them, so if I ever post them, know that the stories aren't related. To all the readers of my other stories- I'm really sorry I never update, but I've been working on other things and will probably delete the stories I'm not going to update again.

Disclaimer- I do not own Labyrinth. If I did Jareth's tights would be tighter... just kidding. No, they would be. Lol.

Copyright like thing- Celine DeLoup is mine! No take-y. D'artagnan is also mine- literally, he is my horse in real life.

Warning-ish stuff- This is a very strange story that hardly has Jareth in it and no lines for Sarah. Sorry. it is not exactly JS, but it is implied. I couldn't think of what Jareth wanted from Sarah, so I settled on a ring. I don't know why, don't ask.

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She jumped. It wasn't far down and she had made longer falls before.

Turning in midair, the dark haired girl landed like a cat, on her feet but crouched down, her nails skimming the grass.

Looking left, then right, she dropped to her stomach, army crawling across the stretch of grass. Something moved to the right of her and she dropped lower to the ground, digging her combat boot toes into the grass in case she should have to make a quick getaway. The sound stopped and she turned her head in the direction it came from. Nothing was there so she moved on. There was always someone following her, trying to figure out how she did it. How she never once got caught or seen.

Making it to the arborvitae, she slid into it, effectively hiding herself.

Her dark brown, almost black, hair was pulled back into a high ponytail, still going down to the waist of her pants. Hazel-green eyes darted around, taking in the surroundings.

It wasn't hard to see that she was experienced in her work. Black pants, tight black top, form fitting black jacket emblazed with her motto and symbol on it, a simply drawn wolf howling at a moon, and combat boots made her ensemble.

In the leather pouch attached to her belt was the ring she was supposed to get from the girl. A bit strange, but she never asked questions. Bravez et Fidèle, the words were also stamped onto the pouch in silver. Brave and Loyal, her personal motto that described the wolf.

She stealthily crawled out of the brush, soundlessly dashing to the horse that was tied to a tree. Pulling a black cloak on, she deftly mounted the large, bay equine and secured the hood over her head, hiding her face.

Galloping off, anyone who was looking could have sworn the horse was without rider, the girl blending with the night and darkness of the horse's coat.

The pair slowed, coming to a mansion a mile or so away from the house she had visited.

A boy came up, taking the horse, named D'artagnan, by the reins and leading him to water.

With girl dismounted smoothly, patting her mount on the neck affectionately and sweeping her way to the back entrance of the mansion. One of the many butlers came to her and she recognized him as Peter.

The older man wordlessly led her to an office. Peter smiled at her and exited the room.

The chair in back of the large desk turned and the figure stood, a gloved hand extended to the girl.

She took it in a hand shake and wrote on a pad of paper that was supplied instantly, ' It is done, she has the crystal.'

"Very good," the man said in a smooth voice.

She nodded, turning on her heel and walking to one of the many windows that lined the room.

"Oh, Celine," he said, calling her back. She turned again, coming back to him. He pushed her hood back, revealing her lightly tanned skin. She jerked away, pulling her hood back up. The blonde man dropped a smaller pouch into her hand. She smiled, feeling the coins inside.

"That covers this little escapade," he said.

She nodded again, turning once more.

"Don't you ever speak?"

The brunette stopped and looked over shoulder, smiling. Shaking her head no, she lightly ran to the window and threw herself out, arms stretched and hood blowing back. The ponytail her hair had been in came out and the dark brown locks whipped around her face. She turned, back to the ground and blew a kiss to the man watching out the window.

He chuckled, withdrawing back into the study.

Celine turned back facing the ground and grabbed the ends of the cloak in a makeshift parachute. A dark horse was running beneath her and she dropped lightly onto it's back, taking a handful of mane to steady herself.

Crazy Goblin King, she thought. Still obsessing over Sarah.

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Please review! Flames are welcome too, I'll roast marshmellows.