This story was started as a result of Challenge 21 on the Labyfic livejournal community, which reads as follows:

This time I'd like to see you write a story that features an unexpected development or a suprising twist. I'm going to leave it quite open as to what this development could be, but let me just say the wilder the idea the better! The main purpose of the challenge is to try and get people to avoid the familiar tropes and cliches associated with the fandom - let your imaginations loose. So you could have Sarah become a ninja and join an order fighting malovelant supernatural forces, or Jareth could somehow end up as a down-and-out stalking through the streets of New York. In effect, take a character or setting from Labyrinth and do something different with it.

In most stories with a grown-up Sarah, she's an artist, or a writer, or something like that. I decided to take her in a different direction entirely.

Part 1

"Mr. Dudko. Mr. Dudko!"

"Just a minute, Ms. Williams." The portly site manager turned away from Sarah, addressing the crew foreman at his side. "Get them started on the scaffolding for the north wall. And make sure to mark that hole; we won't get anywhere if we end up with OSHA on our ass."

"No, don't," Sarah said, and the foreman paused, giving her the skeptical once-over that she was far too used to receiving from the Boys Club of construction workers, demolition men, and her fellow engineers that compromised her work life. "Mr. Dudko, the building is unsafe. We need to get everyone out, now!"

"Unsafe?" He raised both eyebrows, giving her his own Skeptical Eye. She fought back a sigh. They worked for the same consulting firm and he was a geologist, not an engineer; he should trust her, especially in front of a subcontractor like the foreman.

"Yes. Unsafe." She turned, tipping back her hard hat as she pointed. "See that I-beam? It's structural, and it's rusted through. We need to get a special crew in here to shore up the roof, before we do anything else. Right now it's being held up by habit and a touch of friction." She suited action to words, picking her way carefully around the discarded, broken metal that littered the old factory floor as she moved towards the nearest exit.

"Tell the crew," Dudko said to the foreman, and followed her. "You're sure, Ms. Williams?" he said, when he caught up with her. "Because this is really going to set us back."

"A workplace injury lawsuit will set us back farther," she said tartly. "Yes, I'm sure."

"No, I don't know how long it will be." Sarah shifted the phone between her shoulder and her ear as she fumbled for her key. The motel keycard was acting up again, and it took her four tries to get the green light and open the door. "Another two weeks at least."

Billy made a frustrated noise in her ear. "Two weeks at least? What happened to finishing this by the end of the month? We were supposed to go to court next Monday."

"It's not like I planned a potential building collapse. It will take as long as it takes." She dropped her briefcase and bent awkwardly just inside the door, tugging at the laces of her work boots. Her fingers came away muddy—fantastic—and she almost dropped the phone as she contorted to work them off her feet. Her jeans followed, caked with mud almost to the knees, and then her socks, dusty at the cuffs and soggy at the toes.

"Isn't the building coming down anyway?"

"Yes, but it has to be done right. Too much risk if it comes down on its own, especially on a Superfund site."

"You're the one that wanted this, Sarah. All I want is for you to get your ass home so we can finally call it quits."

He was right: the divorce was her idea and this trip had been a last-minute situation, a favor to a coworker who'd had a death in the family. She cradled the phone in one hand again as she shook herself out of one sleeve of her heavy coat, and then switched to pull it off completely. "I'll talk to my boss," she said, as she dropped the dusty coat to one side of her muddy boots and finally let herself step into the rest of the room. "I might be able to come home for a few days while they get the work done. I'll have to do the design here, first, though."

"Whatever." She could hear the sarcasm, heavy, in his voice. "I don't even care anymore." He hung up without saying goodbye.

Sarah sighed and tossed the phone onto the nightstand, then flopped down onto the room's second bed—not the one she'd been sleeping in—and started pulling at her hair to release it from its braid. Twelve years together, thirteen months now apart. In retrospect, it had probably been inevitable from "I do." Too young, too passionate, too blind, too willing to believe that the other would change, in time. Too stubborn to adjust when that never happened.

The room was warm, thermostat running high enough that she knew she'd be uncomfortably hot later, but now she felt chilled to the bone. Chilled by the cold weather she'd been out in all day, chilled by the danger in the half-demolished building, chilled by Billy's coldness, though she should be used to it. She lay down on her back, one foot still on the floor, and scrubbed her hands across her face, feeling the day's grime, thick and heavy on her skin.

Something touched her ankle, where her foot lay on the floor. She yelped, and jumped, raising her foot and rolling over to look down, only to see the bedskirt swaying slightly in the breeze caused by the overworked heating unit. There wasn't any under-bed space; the bed frame went all the way to the floor all the way around. Shaking her head at her own silliness, she rolled over and sat up, putting both feet down. It was time to get on with her evening. She would shower. And she'd call for takeout. The Boy's Club would be out at some chain drinking beers on the company dime, but she didn't have the energy.

She leaned forwards, reaching for the takeout menu next to the phone, and as she did, two pairs of hands reached out from the not-space under the bed, grabbed each ankle, and pulled.

"Shit!" Her reach had turned into a lunge, and she hit the floor on all fours, between the hotel room's two beds. "What the—"

Two more pairs of hands reached out from under the other bed, and latched on to her wrists. They yanked down, even though the floor was in the way, and her face hit the carpet and everything went black.