Disclaimer:I do not own Labyrinth, Phantom of the Opera, nor any characters or songs from the aforementioned. The only thing I take credit for is the plot and any characters I have created. This story was created solely for the joy of writing-I hope you enjoy it.

E. Jane

I

Memories on Petals

He gathered from her frantic expression that she was nervous, and yet Sarah
composed herself easily in the wings of the stage. She stepped into full view
effortlessly, all traces of fear gone from her face. Delicately she took position at
the very center of the scene, the white gown flowing around her, crystals in her
hair. Jareth thought back to another fairytale gown, but stilled the memory as the
music swelled around him.

The box itself was lavish, rich in soft cushions and long curtains, overlooking the
stage. He had been lucky that the occupants left when they did. The young man
and his lady had, somehow, gotten a box all to themselves despite coming to the
play with overbearing chaperones. Not long after the opening scene they had
stolen out the back to will away the time as they pleased, at least until the end of
the performance. Jareth thought it a shame to leave the box empty and crept into
it's shadows once they were gone. After all, he was already here. Intently he
listened as Sarah's voice-no, Christine's voice-brightened the theater, bringing
new life to acclaimed 'Phantom' scene.

"Think of me, think of me fondly, when we've said goodbye
Remember me once in a while, please promise me you'll try
When you find that once again you long to take your heart back and be free
If you ever find a moment, spare a thought for me..."

He had never seen this play before, nor heard this song. And yet the words struck
a chord in him that was unidentifiable-familiar, even. Thinking, he closed his eyes
as if trying to remember.

"We never said our love was evergreen or as unchanging as the sea,
But if you can still remember, stop and think of me.
Think of all the things we've shared and seen,
Don't think about the way things might have been."

His eyes flashed open to find her gaze pleading up into his box. His heart stilled for
a beat, but she turned elegantly to a different part of the audience. She had not
recognized him. Even so, Jareth drew a little farther into the shadows, wrapping
the dark around him like a cloak.

"Think of me, think of me waking silent and resigned
Imagine me, trying too hard to put you from my mind
Recall those days, look back on all those times. Think of the things we'll never do.
There will never be a day when I won't think of you..."

Her voice was tugging at the air, the passionate plea spilling from her lips. For a
moment he almost believed her.

Then a man stepped onto the stage, clapping and shouting, "Bravo!" Then,

"Can it be? Can it be Christine?"

Sarah bowed to the applause, a sweeping flourish of the skirts.

"Long ago...it seems so long ago.
How young and innocent we were!"

A smile played on the king's lips, one of wry irony. Without thinking he silently
mouthed the words Raoul sang on the stage, words he thought he did not know.

"She may not remember me, but I remember her..."

Sarah had moved, catching the light once more. She threw the beams around the
theater, bouncing from her crystal-laden hair. Her eyes were full, a faint smile on
her lips.

"Flowers fade. The fruits of summer fade.
They have their seasons, so do we.
But please promise me that sometimes,
You will think of...me!"

If only she knew. He retreated completely into the shadows then, and vanished.

Sarah returned to bow with her fellow actors at the end of the performance, once
again enveloped in the airy folds of the white dress. The crystals had been neatly
re-pinned in her hair, breaking up the spotlight and cascading it over the stage and
orchestra below. On her right she gripped hands with the Phantom, and Raoul on
her left. No one missed the wide smile on her lips-it had been, after all, a flawless
performance.

With a third bow the curtain thumped to a close and all of the actors turned to give
cheers of delight to one another. It was a shame it had been closing night, but
after several weeks of performing they were exhausted. Happily exhausted, but
exhausted nonetheless. Following a few moments of excitement, they separated
to change hastily out of the cumbersome costumes. The highly anticipated
after-show party was waiting for them. Sarah hurried to her small dressing room,
filled with bouquets from that week's admirers. Of course her family's held the
spot of honor on the small vanity. Toby had handpicked the flowers and tied them
with a red ribbon himself, and she smiled every time she saw them. Carefully she
sat on the stool and began extracting the crystals from her hair.

Having her own dressing room was nice, if a little awkward. She had never been
given the luxury of privacy in all of her six years of acting and found it unsettling to
be so alone. But the director would not have it any other way. Sarah sighed as the
last pin left her hair, and she placed it in a silk-lined box with the rest of it's
companions. Gently she shook her tresses, trying to release them from the
hair-sprayed bondage. Looking again to Toby's flowers, she reached out to finger
a petal. They tickled her memory, reminded her of something she had seen long
ago, climbing the walls of some enchanted place...

A loud knock interrupted her thoughts. "Miss Sarah?" a woman's muffled voice
asked.

"Come in!" She dropped the petal and turned in her seat to face the door. It
opened slowly, a rump preceding it's owner through the frame. Sarah stifled a
laugh behind her hand as Mrs. Lowry came in backwards carrying something large
with her. The acting coach had worked with Sarah for years and somewhere along
the way became like a fairy godmother. Gray curls bouncing, she huffed into the
room, lugging an impossibly large bouquet in after her. Sarah gasped loudly when
she saw it in it's entirety, but the cry was muffled as the bouquet was placed in her
lap. She could barely see over it's top as she cradled it in her arms.

The plump woman, still huffing with hands on her hips, eyed the girl, waiting for a
reaction. When Sarah did nothing but gape she chuckled. "Well, well. Can you
imagine? Must be three-dozen red roses there! And every single one a perfect
bloom!"

Sarah looked up blankly.

"Fess up, girl. Who is he?" Mrs. Lowry sighed.

"He?" She furrowed her brow and turned back to the roses. "There is no 'he!'"

The instructor hung her arms in defeat. "Good heavens, are you sure?" Sarah
nodded. Hard.

"Simply amazin'! Three dozen perfect roses from a bloomin' stranger-"

"Wait!" Sarah bounced excitedly in her seat. "Look, a card!" She withdrew the
tiniest of envelopes from the white tissue folded about the flowers. Her name was
the only thing on it, carefully written in an elegant script she did not recognize.
Mrs. Lowry clapped her hands together joyfully. Then, seeming to remember
something, rushed to Sarah's side and rested a hand on the envelope. The girl
stopped trying to open it and looked questioningly at her teacher.

Silently the older woman cupped her student's face in her hands. "Sarah, my dear,
you positively glowed tonight. I have never been so proud. You know I think of
you as a daughter, a precious gift I've never had."

Sarah's eyes automatically filled and threatened to spill. "I know," she smiled.

"I'm going to check upstairs-come on when you're ready." She laid a gentle kiss
on her forehead, turned, and disappeared behind the door.

Eyes still swimming, she tore eagerly at the thick paper. Inside was a single white
card, the message written in the same elegant script.

Sarah,

Many years have passed since our meeting, and no doubt little remains
in your memory of me. Such are the rules of the Labyrinth. However, seeing as
how you are the one and only victor of my challenge, I have lifted the enchantment
around you. Certain circumstances of the Underground have led me to vast
revelations-truly the fate of the world, both mine and yours, may rest in your
hands. I will find you, to explain properly when the time arises. For now I can only
offer my condolences for the pain you will remember. Until then.

The note was unsigned. A faint tingling in her fingertips began as Sarah replaced
the card into it's envelope. What on Earth-

A searing pain shot through her limbs, from her tingling fingers, up her arm, up her
neck, and into her head. The scream never came, but her head fell into her lap
atop the roses. She clutched her hands to her temples in wicked agony. Her blood
was boiling, brain exploding, heart pounding-

And then it ended. Just like that. She opened her eyes, breathing forcefully into
her lap. The roses had spilled to the floor, pooling like a puddle of blood against the
white rug.

Sarah remembered.