A/N I'm uninspired to work on "Mirror Focus" at the moment, because of a few problems I've had… namely with creating a new character, and losing a reader due to a misread statement. Little note. If you're going to abandon or flame me, please tell me so on an account or at least leave me an e-mail address so I can explain myself if need be? I hate losing readers (especially ones who review) due to MISTAKES.

So I'm all emo now, at least when it comes to "Mirror Focus". And I got sick. And how do you get out of depressions? You do creative stuff. And what do you write if creative stuff was the cause of your depression? You do… different… creative stuff. So I decided to become a mindless J/S drone and write mindless fluff. Because I needed the practice writing emotions anyways. Actually, I think this is the first time I've tried writing fluff too, so I get practice in more then one thing… yaaaaaaaaaaay… -sarcastic glee-

R/R and please no anonymous reviews if they're burns/flames/I hate yous so that I can at least TRY TO EXPLAIN. Thank you.

I d not own Labyrinth. If I did, I'm sure I would have directed one of the helping hands to accidentally grope Sarah.

Something Tangible

Chapter One: Crystal Memories

Jareth sat in his throne room, carelessly sprawled over his chair as he stared dully at the platform. He was bored. In fact, he was more then bored; he was probably minutes away from dying with the lack of interest. The problem was, he was so disinterested that he had no personal motive to try to stop what was boring him, namely the play his goblins had been performing for the last seven hours…

It was monologue. It was worse than 'monologue', because it was the goblins. Their voices were worse then a cheap midi of a droning spokesman if the midi was being run through a blender. And the story was as bad as Barney meets Barbie Princesses, meets B-rated horror films, with a vocabulary that would be envious of a cat bringing up a hairball… yes, it was that bad.

Obviously the king needed to find something… anything… else to do. So when the stage caught fire from a goblin tripping over a cardboard sock puppet that had been left on the floor, Jareth took no chances and fled. By the time the fire had been put out, he had locked himself in his tower where no one dared disturb him.

The door closed him off from the rest of the world. Our beloved Goblin King sunk to the floor, leaned against the door, and ran his gloved fingers through his long flaxen hair. It fell flat against his face, diverse to his normally poofy hair that remained disheveled no matter what he tried. He lifted a few strands up to his eyes and stared at them, perturbed. Even his hair had been bored. That took more then just a fluke… He began to wonder whether the entire play had really been an assassination attempt.

Sitting in his tower didn't solve anything… He was still bored.

Jareth pulled out one of his crystal balls and started to fiddle with it idly. He could focus on the ball and forget whatever thoughts lay behind his duties as king... He could also use the miraculous orb to look on things... specifically anyone in his kingdom…

And their dreams… All the people who had accepted the crystal without hesitation; all of the children who gave up their siblings, friends, pets... anyone, who had been important to them… over nothing more then a shiny orb that showed them them dreams that could already be imagined…

It sickened him.

But he could also see the dreams of the wished away; those who had been forgotten, and had forgotten themselves… All the memories and dreams of those who were being turned into a goblin weren't just destroyed. Instead, each thought became an energy wave that his crystals could easily envelop. At least he could see what they once were.

And so he had much to look at, if he so pleased.

But today, he didn't want old memories and broken promises.

He wanted something real, something solid, and something oh so very tangible.

And so his thoughts drifted to her. It made him frown. The only one whose dreams he wanted, he did not have. She had denied him.

He twitched. The crystal took to the floor as though gravity were a new concept, and shattered on impact. This woke Jareth up from his thoughts, and he stared blankly at the fragments of crystal that were covering the floor like a thick layer of dust.

It took him a long time to piece together what had just happened, and he sighed out of the disillusionment the crystal gave when it was shattered. Instead of one complete thought, it was like the entire floor was millions of abstract feelings that would never be completed. He waved his hand lazily around in a circle, intent on making the remains useful for something other then looking like a clump of dust.

The crystal powder disintegrated into something that was glowing very brightly. He drew it towards him with another flick of his hand and the ornate object was picked up and examined. They had become a miniature star.

"I move the stars for no one…" He mumbled under his breath quietly, before he groaned. His thoughts were still on her. Damn. He shoved the star into one of his many pockets with a disgruntled glare at the wall with the window, until he was staring out the window…

Ugh, the thoughts… they never really did leave easily once they surfaced. It had taken him years just to accept the fact that he had been denied. It took him even longer to get over that fact. However, even now, he could never understand just what had gone wrong.

Certainly, he had kidnapped her brother. But she was the one who had done the wishing… and maybe taking her hours away, or setting off the cleaners hadn't been the nicest thing in the world… But he wouldn't just let her get hurt. She had read the book. Nowhere in it had it ever been mentioned that there was a high mortality rate… why? Principal, his family only believed in the idea of being in intimate danger.

He sighed. Why couldn't she have been a second too late instead of a second too early? Why couldn't she at least have given him her dreams?? It wasn't fair.

He growled and messed with his hair until the static made it behave semi-normal. There were far more productive ways of dealing with his frustration then moping on the floor like a lost puppy. For example, he could pay little Miss Sarah a visit. Find out how her life was going. Yes, something tangible.

Jareth didn't want to give himself a chance to decide otherwise. He took the form of an owl, and flew out of his tower's window.

He was flying; over the trees, and the fields, and the maze. Everything he owned could be seen from the sky. It took a lot more time to get anywhere then it ever did with magic, but the scenery alone made it worth it. Even the bog, that smelled so horrible from close up, looked exhilarating from up in the air.

He didn't want to rush things by porting there using magic. If he had doubts, it was far easier to turn around in mid-flight then it was if he were to 'poof' in front of the girl. What if he saw her and froze? Or worse yet, too many emotions got in the way? He would lose focus and thus lose the ability to 'poof' away.

He began to fly higher. He flew so high that even with an owl's eyesight he could not discern one object from another down on the ground. Then, straight above him, the sky became a swirl of earthy tones, and then instead of flying upwards into the sky, he was flying down to the earth. This was why his kingdom was called the underground… not because it was under the world which Sarah lived in, but because if magic was not used, you had to fly up to get to the Earth.

Soon he flew over a far less familiar land then that of his kingdom. The scenery had changed dramatically, but within minutes would fly over a small portion of land that remained of an all too familiar park. This would lead him to eventually be perched up on a well-known tree, trying to look through the window into girl's room. Unfortunately, there were blinds in the way.

Sigh.

It looked like he'd have to get her attention the human way. Jareth landed on the step directly in front of their house, and after making sure no one was looking, transformed back into his true appearance. He did, however, just to be safe, alter his clothing according to the 'style' of this world. He was wearing a pair of denim jeans, a typical black t-shirt, and white sneakers. The only thing that hadn't changed in his outfit was his hair and the large pendant that he wore around his neck.

So he stood there, feeling completely naked without his gloves, wondering what on earth he was supposed to do next. The doorbell was right there, perfectly in reach. But did he really want to go through with this? He was wringing his hands together nervously, one of the habits he had when they weren't covered by some form of leather. How many years had it even been? Certainly, in the underground, it had been nearly fifty, but to an immortal, that was a mere blink. But then, thirteen hours had past in his world when less than four had gone by in hers… What if she was already married? God, what if she had a child that looked exactly like her when she was a child?!

Jareth nearly slapped himself mentally. This wasn't a visit between lovers. This wasn't even a visit between friends. Sarah had rejected both from him. Even if she had accepted everyone else, even the firey's, so warmly, she had not accepted him. No, this was him checking up, so that he could have something fresh instead of old memories and a peach induced dream.

The doorbell was pushed. It was too late to go back now. He stood perfectly ridged.

Sarah's stepmother opened part of the door until it was stopped by a chain that still held it closed. She peered out of the gap and looked at him skeptically. "Is there anything I can do for you… sir…?"

Jareth, on the other hand, was relieved that he recognized her. His flair for drama kicked in as he took a graceful bow. "Good afternoon ma'am. My name is Jareth. I was a close friend of Miss Sarah William's when we were both in high school… Do you perchance know if I could speak to her..?" Jareth was lying through his teeth, all the while his veins were about to burst. He hated acting human.

Karen didn't notice. Jareth didn't know it, but he really did look an awful lot like one of these new punk rockers that was into the latest thing – heavy metal…However, she put on a polite face. "I'm sorry. Sarah moved out."

A/N: Will be fluff eventually. But apparently I can't do completely mindless fluff yet. My brain's not that dead. I still need plot… Damn.