A/N - For anyone who follows me, I profusely apologize. A Long Way From Forever has been finished, but the final chapters are on my laptop, which (of course) has decided not to charge anymore...meaning I am having a lot of trouble getting them off said computer. I am doing my best, though, and in the meantime, I hope you enjoy this one-shot.

The white owl perched on a branch that was in the perfect place for it to see in the window. The pretty little girl was giggling while being regaled by her lovely mother.

"You know, Jareth, that it was against our rules to bring the child here." The voice appeared a second or two earlier than the woman it belonged to.

The bird merely stared, unblinking, at the fae woman.

"Advisors advise, Jareth, that is my place in your kingdom." She turned to peer at the people in the house. "I do not understand." Her voice displayed some of the frustration and anger she felt at being unable to help her king.

The owl ruffled his feathers and turned his stare back to the house for a moment before launching himself into the air with a defiant cry. What do you want from me, Sarah?"

O

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"What do you want from me, Sarah?" rang in her head as the owl's angry anguish rang in her ears. She wanted to shut him out and proclaim that she wanted nothing from him but peace, but she couldn't deny that he called to her on a primal level. So what DID she want?

"Sarah?" The child's sweet voice broke into Sarah's thoughts.

"Yes, Dear One?"

"Why does that owl upset you so?"

Sarah forced a smile, knowing the fae child would see through it. "His cry just makes me sad, Sweet."

She mulled the answer over for a bit before giving a satisfied nod and closing her eyes. "O.K. Maybe we should see what he needs to make him happy."

Sarah closed her eyes against a brief flare of panic. "We may do that, Grace, but it is time to sleep now." Reaching out, she patted the child's shoulder before rising to shut off the lights.

Alone in the farm house except for the sleeping child, Sarah wandered to the living room and sat down to go over her memories for clues.

She had been kneeling in the dirt over the grave of y et another dream, letting her tears hit the ground.

"Why do you cry?" His voice was as musical as she remembered, and his form just as pleasing - as she discovered when she turned to face him.

Too exhausted and heart-sick to care about how, or why, a figment of her childhood imagination was standing four feet from her, she answered the question. "I can't have children."

Startled by her candor, Jareth offered his own. "If you care to come with me, I may be able to have you healed."

"I don't believe you are real, and I have no desire to follow a grief-indued hallucination."

"As you wish." And he was gone.

A week later, though, Sarah answered a knock on her door to find a beautiful toddler standing on the porch; holding the hand of a wild-haired, haughty man that was as familiar to Sarah as her own hands.

Speechless, she could only stare until some sense returned. "Did you take her, Jareth?"

Irritated, and a little stung, by her assumption, his words were clipped as he answered. "I did not. She was left, injured, on the castle stairs one night. I had her hurts tended to and brought her to someone I knew would be good to her. She has suffered much, and deserves a rest."

Sparing only a nod to Jareth, she knelt before the girl. "What is your name, Lovely?"

"Grace." Eyes astonishingly like Jareth's peered out from dark hair and a creamy complexion.

Choking, she was unable to ask the question pounding through her body, but he answered it anyway.

"I have no children, Sarah. If she is related to me it is in a way I am unaware of."

Her eyes closed in a silent prayer of thanks before she looked at the child again. "Do you want to stay here with me, Grace?"

"Do I have to call you Mom?"

"Of course not. My name is Sarah, and you can call me that if you like."

The child considered for a minute before nodding and stepping over to Sarah."

"Sarah," his voice was hesitant, "could I come in for a bit?"

Startled dark eyes met his, but she shook her head. "I can't say how much this means to me, but I don't think I can process any more. Not only are you real, my fantasy come to life, but you've brought me a child and she isn't human, is she?"

"She is fae."

Sarah simply nodded and began leading Grace inside.

"Sarah -"

"Time, Jareth. If you expect me to react in any form of normalcy, you must give me time."

"I will do as you desire. Again." And he was gone. Again.

"You asked for time, and he has given you more than you should have expected." The feminine voice was unfamiliar to Sarah, and held more than a hint of steel.

Startled, she looked up to find a fae woman standing in front of her, peering down with disapproving eyes. "Who are you?"

"I am Taelyr, and I am the King's advisor."

"And you are here because?"

Frowning, the woman settled into a crouch so she was on more of a level with Sarah. "He brought you a fae child, which is against everything we hold dear. He has given you space not once, but twice, to allow you to come to terms with him, and all that he represents, in your own time. I heard the thought he projected to you. What DO you want from him, Sarah? Truly?"

"I don't..."

"Liar." Her eyes narrowed. "You know full well what you want from him. If you will not tell me, at least tell him so he can either accept or refuse. Give him the choice he has repeatedly given you."

Sighing, Sarah gave into what felt like the inevitable. "How?"

Taelyr stood. "Simply call for him. The poor man is always listening for your voice." With a parting look, she simply vanished from the room, leaving Sarah to work out the most important conversation she would ever have.

O

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"Jareth?" Her voice was quiet, but the call was clear, as was the need behind it.

Though she expected a flurry of motion and shadows, he appeared with no fanfare. "How may I serve you tonight, Sarah?" His voice was flat, eyes shuttered.

"It's not like that, Jareth." She bit her lip at his haughty, and frankly disbelieving look. "I heard the question you asked me as you flew away, and I started thinking about it."

"You have called me to ask something of me."

"Not exactly." She was exasperated, and frightened. "If you would just let me give the speech like I had planned, this would go faster and a lot easier."

An amused lift of his eyebrow was the only reply he gave, but he did not speak again.

"I won't bore you with the reasons, because I'm pretty sure you figured them all out long before I did anyway. I have decided that I don't wish anything from you." The thunderous look on his face prompted her to hasten the rest of her thought. "Other than what you are willing to freely give. I want you, Jareth, and that is the only thing I've ever wanted." She grimaced. "Living with the perpetual desire for a figment of your imagination is hard. Living with it once you've realized he's not imaginary is even harder. I thought you were unreachable, unattainable."

Stepping forward, he reached out to brush a light caress over her arm. "You had only ever to ask, Sarah."

"Yeah, well, I'm not too bright some times."

He was startled into a laugh. He sobered quickly, though, when he realized that he still didn't know what she wanted. At least not right that minute. "Sarah, what do you wish of me now?"

Looking into eyes that seemed to peer straight to her soul, she smiled. "Well...you could take me to bed. If you want to."

His eyes widened right before they narrowed in anticipation and he growled low in his throat. "Well then. Let me show you the advantages to being loved by a fae."