I DO NOT OWN THE CAST

"Madeline, I think I've solved it," Birkoff announced triumphantly.

The regal, cold woman merely inclined her head. "Go on."

"I knew I'd seen Red Cell's code somewhere, and..." he produced a book, "here is where."

She took the book gingerly, as if it were a weapon. On second thought, a weapon probably would be more comfortable in her hand than a fantasy novel.

"The runes on the cover? " she asked, dangerous scorn in her voice.

"Yeah. Uh- every one of the codes appears somewhere on one of the Labyrinth series covers," he explained, turning red.

"Do you know what they mean?"

Birkoff had to shake his head. "I had thought that Sarah Williams made them up until the codes started coming in, then I thought maybe they meant something more."

Madeline nodded, her finger tracing the script that spelled out the author's name. "Find out all you can about Ms. Williams. Where she lives, where she comes from, any connection to Red Cell. "

Heart sinking on behalf of an unknown girl somewhere, Birkoff began to do a background check. He had a feeling he'd just read the last Labyrinth book.

When Sarah opened her eyes, all around her was white. Cold. Colder than she'd been since the oubliette, but without the comforting darkness. Or Hoggle to come rescue her. Without anyone telling her, she knew she was in more trouble than ever, and the one man who could save her was either a fantasy, dead or hated her guts. But she never once would suspect he'd caused this current predicament.

When the door opened, it was not Jareth who entered, but a tall young man whose face betrayed nothing.

"Who are you?" she asked immediately.

"Michael Samuel. The place you are in is Section One."

Sarah kept her own face impassive as his. "You need a new decorator. Bland, very bland." Her voice did not shake. She'd faced the goblin king, this guy had to be a piece of cake.

When would she learn to avoid that phrase?

"I think you will find that jokes are not accepted here, Ms. Williams. You are here for a purpose."

"I kind of figured that," she returned. "So, tell me what and if I agree, I'll do it and be on my way."

He crossed the room to lean very close. "Go? Where? You are dead."

This almost shook her, but she drew strength from the oubliette, from the bog, the junkyard, from their king.

"Funny, I always thought dead would be less feeling. Does that come later? When I grow up do I become you?"

Picking up a remote control, he caused a screen to light up. "This is your grave, C7, plot 94. Your funeral was very well attended. Presently, the plot is empty. Should you fail us, it will not be."

Sarah took a deep breath. "Fail you? In what."

"We will tell you when we are ready."

We? Royal we? He certainly seemed to think himself royal.

"Great. When do I find out?"

He left without answering.

Obviously, this was part of a plan to drive her nuts enough to cooperate just to get out of the white room. Hours went past. When someone showed up, she'd have to tell them, oubliette's were not white, but dark.

When a hidden door opened to let in a tall man and dangerously regal woman, Sarah had to work at keeping her calm. Hard.

They thrust copies of her trilogy at her. "Tell us about the runes," the woman said with no preamble.

"The runes?"

"Yes, the symbols you have on your book covers. We must know what they mean."

Psycho fans. Didn't Stepen King write about them?

"Nothing. Just pictures that came into my head." Sarah shrugged nonchalantly.

"We know what they are being used for. As the originator, you must know what they mean," he insisted.

"I just made them up," she argued. "They're dreams, nothing." Nothing? Nothing tra la la? Quiet, Jareth, unless you're going to help, she thought.

"Don't defy us, Ms. Williams, " the man warned. When Sarah's lips twitched in amusement, his frown darkened.

"Heard that one before," she explained. "Didn't work then, not now either. "

The man moved entirely too close to her. "Perhaps this amuses you. Perhaps you don't care if you die, but I assure you, we can make you wish for death. I assure you, those you love can wish for death."

Even her strong will could not stop the palor from creeping across her face. Satisfied that his threat was received, Operations gestured to Madeline and they walked out, leaving Sarah to contemplate dreary thoughts.

In a land far away and close, Hoggle's feet were leaden as he walked toward the throne room. Jareth would be mad, that was certain. Hoggle'd be lucky to be hung in the Bog of Eternal Stench or sent to the fieries. That really didn't matter. Couldn't be much worse than the way he felt.

Something of his mood must have been so plain and somber that it stilled even the rowdy goblins; their games paused to let him pass in dead silence.

Jareth looked up from his work to see to what he owed the relief. Surprise flickered over his face, and curious dread when he saw Hoggle's mien. Only one person could cause such sorrow on the dwarf's countenance. Her.

"What is it, Hedgeheap," he asked acerbically, striving for normalcy.

A giant tear rolled down the craggy face. "Sarah."

"What of her?" Jareth could not keep the taut dread from his voice.

"Dead. Sarah's dead. I - I found this paper above ground when I went to look for her. It's got what they's call an obituary. It's about her being dead."

"I know what an obituary is," Jareth retorted. "Sarah Williams is a fairly common name," though she was anything but, "perhaps it is another one." He snatched the paper, heart falling when he saw the picture by the name. It was his Sarah Williams. She had died in a fatal car wreck scant days ago. Two days ago.

"Not possible," he stated flatly, ordering it so. He had let her go above, live her life until she was done growing up, ready to be the queen she was destined to be. It had been almost time. Less than a year before he would have all ready for her. Before she'd be ready. She hadn't known yet. But she would. Not now, though. Never.

A dozen crystals shattered as his rage echoed. Goblins ran in all directions. Only Hoggle cared little enough about his own safety to stay.

"She can not be, " Jareth repeated. "I would know it."

Hoggle glared up at his majesty. "Huh. Well, I guess you don't know it all. It's all there."

Jareth closed his eyes, reaching for the bright star in his own sky that was Sarah. He could still see it. There was hope. Mistakes were possible by inept humanity.

"Get back in here you rabble," he roared. Not daring disobey, they did so. "Find her. I know Sarah lives. Find her or the Bog will be the mildest torture you face. Go."

When they had scattered to do his will, Jareth took flight as an owl, leaving a wretched Hoggle alone in his grief.

Sarah closed her eyes. Madeline had moved her to a room, depositing a stack of papers with her runes inscribed on them. Not as appeared on her books, random patterns of them. Sarah had no idea what they meant. She's just combined dream images in pretty patterns. She could only hope that whatever made her see the images would reveal what they meant. It was her only dared for hope. Yet, she still silently called to him. Wishing somehow he could hear her, that he was real.

The owl's flight paused, joy racing through its human heart. She lived. Woe to whoever had taken her. Her cry for help was distant, unfocused. But it was there. And something more, a need for an answer. He didn't know why she needed that, but the desperation behind that search was enough to compel him to send it to her. Then as now, he could deny her nothing. She did love him, he was obligated by his own vow to be her slave.

Sarah felt the words, grabbing a pen to write them as they came. Each one spoken in her mind by the voice she most wanted to hear.

Madeline expected to find random nonsense or blank pages when she returned. Her pleasant surprise was almost apparent behind her mask to see each symbol with a matching word that appeared logical.

"Very good, Sarah. We will of course have to check this out, but if it appears to correllate, your life is safe for now. Your training will begin in two days. Nikita will be in charge of you."

"My training? In what?" Sarah found herself asking before she could stop herself.

"Combat. Seduction. Whatever you need to know to serve in Section one." The answer was delivered as if Sarah had asked for a recipe.

She blinked. If she followed what was said then, "You want me to fight?". A nod. "Kill?" Nod again."

Gritting her teeth, :"Whore myself for you?"

That final nod thankfully froze her in shock, else Sarah might have been cancelled then and there for killing Madeline with her bare hands.

Then, she was alone again, more so than before.

Except for the king who searched for her and heard that cry of wordless agony.

Waking from a troubled sleep, Sarah's bleary eyes fell on a blonde woman sitting there waiting for her. A moment passed before she realized where she was. Then it crashed onto her brain. Once again, Jareth's words came to her.

As the pain sweeps through makes no sense to you every thrill is gone wasn't too much fun at all. In the next lyric lay her hope. But I'll be there for you, as the world falls down.. falling in love. If there was a Jareth, surely he would find her before she did something horrible. God was merciful, He would show Jareth to her side if it could be.

But all she said was, "Nikita?"

The woman nodded. "I'm here to begin your training. " She paused. "When the Valentine op training begins, you'll work with Michael." Was that a note of bitterness in her husky voice?

Sarah nodded mechanically. "Nikita, I translated those symbols - for some unknown reason."

"That's how it's done, we don't ask questions.''

flashback That's the way it's done... Well, fair maiden, if that is the way it is done, that is the way you must do it. Dear Sir Didymus. Oh what she'd give for his valor, or for Ludo 's strength.

"Whatever. I thought I'd get to leave."

Nikita looked sad for a heartbeat. "Sorry, Sarah. No one leaves here, not alive."

Something in Sarah yelled, that's not fair, but she'd learned how much good that did, and it was said only to herself, or any one who could listen to her heart. But now there was a difference. She had a basis for comparison that could rightly say that her statement was totally true.

That's not fair. Her words were suddenly so clear, Jareth almost thought he had found her between the stars he soared through. No, not yet, but he was nearer, thanks to her trademark statement.

Speak more, love, he whispered. Call your trial a piece of cake, protest, yell. Defy them and for once take your dreams. Please, Sarah. Let me rescue you. Nothing in your world could match mine. You are a match for me.

For a moment, there seemed to be an answer, but he knew she was so lost she knew not where she was. Lost and alone, for now.

As despair swept through Sarah, she felt something she could not pin down and define. It made her remember words. match for me Sarah... the way is long and time short In themselves, not comforting. But the voice she heard was.

Hours of fighting in this world where day and night seemed to be controlled by authoritarian say so went by in a blur. How many times did Sarah hear Nikita announce that she'd just been killed? Two, three, four? How dead could one get?

When Nikita finally took her to the infirmary to make sure that none of her deaths had been too damaging, Sarah was ready to crawl in that grave that prig Michael had shown her.

"Go shower and clean up. Wear something pretty," Nikita told her stiffly. "Your first Valentine training begins in an hour."

Sarah stopped. "Excuse me? I've just been killed half a dozen times and everything hurts. How am I supposed to-"

"You just do it. Missions don't wait for you to heal up. Get used to it now." With that, Nikita left Sarah at her door.

Sarah sank down on her bed. The thought of what the next training session might entail had her guts churning. Valentine didn't take too much imagination to figure out; but if they thought for one second- it'd be a St Valentine's Day massacre first.

"Where's the Bog of Eternal Stench when you need it?" she muttered. "Or Ludo to call a rock down on someone's head." Well, the rock's probably break. Maybe one of those birds to pull of a head or limb. Now that would work.

Cheered by the rather bloody thoughts, Sarah decided she'd gain nothing by not going along until she could not tolerate what they asked of her. But if they tried to make her cross her own boundaries, it was Section one who'd lose.

A few days later, Madeline strode into Paul's office. "I think we're going to have to discontinue the REM inhibitors on Sarah."

"Oh? Why? It shouldn't damage her psyche for another week or two to not dream."

"The latest neural readings indicate damage is beginning, and since her dreams are tied to the codes we can't take that risk. "

"We'd lose ground on programming her," Operations pointed out, conveniently not acknowledging the fact that they'd gained none with the girl. He did not know that every night as she prayed, she prayed that her will continue to be as strong as his, and so far, she was having her request granted.

"If her useful quality is destroyed, then what good does it do to program her?" Madeline argued coolly. "Let me give her the antidote and restore her dreams for a few nights. We can stop and start them easily enough. Consider it an experiment to see how alternating REM and non REM sleep patterns works."

Operations swirled his chair a few moments, considering, not willing to give in to Madeline too quickly, though he knew he would agree to what she wished. "Very well. Give her the drug."

Madeline nodded, not admitting she already had.

Jareth was going crazy. If Sarah would just dream, he knew he could find her. But something seemed to be blocking her from the dream world. The goblins had found no trace of her, but one had dug up her grave and discovered that she was not in it. Just an empty casket.

Empty for now. When Jareth found who had tricked him, it would be theirs.

Perhaps he would let them be dead before being placed inside.

Not only did Madeline give Sarah the antidote, but a second drug to put her to sleep immediately. The sooner she slept the sooner she could begin to recover and be put back on the program. For the past few days, she had been taking one meal with Michael; that tactic had multiple advantages. It kept Michael and Nikita apart for a bit and, Madeline hoped, perhaps bonded Sarah to him. That part was not working out according to plan. Sarah was polite, nothing more. Michael did not enjoy being assigned to any woman other than Nikita, so he did not push. Nothing more than lunch or dinner with stilted conversation went on between them, not even friendship. Operations could see that much, and was fuming. He'd suggested using Toby, encourage Michael to tell her of his son and use the shared interest in both of them being linked to a child to break the ice. Madeline vetoed. It would only make Michael resentful.

When Sarah met Michael for dinner, as usual she merely poked at the meal. Madeline allowed this as it was a usual behavior for most young women, but she had previously instructed Michael to make sure Sarah ate one portion of the meal, in which the drug was hidden. A fruit salad created according to a recipe Birkoff had discovered Sarah favored. The peaches would hide the double drug taste and perhaps the consideration shown in finding something she enjoyed would help their cause.

Sarah stared at the bowl. "Peaches."

"Yes. It is one of your favorites, no?" Michael's face was impassive. The masks worn at the ball revealed more than faces here.

"I'd rather not," Sarah deferred. She'd gotten into so much trouble before with peaches...

"Please," but it was not a polite request, it was an order.

Sarah's face hardened. Then, she backed down mentally. It was a small battle to concede. Very small. She'd really lose nothing as long as she kept in mind it was her choice. Besides, maybe a peach would bring something wonderful again.

When the world began to tilt, Sarah decided she must be allergic to peaches. Determined not to let them see what was happening, she tried to fight the feeling.

Uselessly. Michael's face was the last thing she saw before collapsing.

Falling falling falling

For days Jareth had listened, waiting for her to dream. When finally Sarah began to dream, it took only an instant to focus a crystal and take control of her dreams again.

The fuzzy dream world began to take shape as he did. Nostalgically, he made the ballroom for her. But no others were invited.

When joy lit her smile, Jareth had one of his own dreams granted at last.

"You've come," dream Sarah whispered before her sobs began.

Jareth was across the room before the next teardrop could fall, holding her close. "Sarah, what is wrong? I was told you died. " Fearing he'd let her see too much, added, "Hoggish was useless for days. The fairies multiplied like rabbits." When she continued to cry, he admitted, "Not that I cared too much. What's a fairy or two when the sun has gone out? Tell me, who is doing this?"

Sarah felt his arms, heard the foreign compassion in his voice. Her jangled nerves found peace leaning against him. "Section one. They - I don't know how they took me. But I woke up and was told I was dead as far as the world was concerned, and I think they've been drugging me. I haven't dreamed since I died. They want me to learn how to kill and to...."

"What?"

She couldn't look at him. It was too shameful, but still he could hear the loud and humilated thought. His grip on her tightened. She hadn't been forced to go that far yet. And by all that was Holy, she never would be, he vowed.

"Don't worry," he promised. "It will not come to that. You are not really with me," he admitted sadly, "but now that you do dream, I can find you. Not while we are together though."

"Please don't go. I can't face the nightmares yet," she begged.

Her fear lurked at the door outside. It had faces. And it had abused her so that Jareth knew she could not go against it alone yet. Even the most valiant warrior could be battered to that point. Besides, he did need time to plan how to get her free. Something about this enemy was different. It had to be handled the right way.

"Will you dance with me?" he asked, refocusing her so she could be healed.

The rest of her dream was spent in a long dance. It was not enough time, but they were together again. It would be adequate.

Neither knew Sarah's brain waves were being monitored. Madeline noted with some surprise how much damage was repaired by the few hours that had passed since her dreams began. She had never seen anyone stay in a dream pattern so long as this. Unusual. Perhaps it had to do with the lack of dreams? She could have one more night of dreams, Madeline decided. Then they'd go to a test pattern. One night of dreams, one night of none.

Jareth knew their time was short. Sarah had to wake. He could not interfere with nature that much.

"It is time to go, love." He was pleased she accepted the title easily as her own name. "I will return, and soon, you will come with me."

Sarah looked at him again, fear in her eyes, but not of him. "I can't..." she trailed off, then quickly added, "they will kill Toby if I defy them."

Jareth froze. "What? What manner of monster has you, love? Threatening a child to coerce ..." Anger blinded him, and he knew he frightened Sarah.

Forcing control was not simple, but he was a king. "Do not worry, Sarah. They will not hurt Toby. This I promise, but our plans may be delayed a bit."

This she could accept. Putting Toby first was something she had begun doing on his parapet. She had hope now. Remembering that moment, Sarah met Jareth's eyes. "You do have power over me- but only God and you do."

A sharp crackle of electricity buzzed past his brain. How had she known he needed that? "It works both ways," he softly admitted, finally allowing the kiss he'd wished to give her once.

Until she woke, the king held her, keeping the nightmares away. As the waking world demanded her return, he whispered promises to her and gave her a bit of power. Just in case.

But she didn't know that, and would not until she needed to.

New hope and fire lit Sarah's face as she met Nikita for her lesson. Even Operations watching overhead could see an improvement in her form and skill. Madeline had been right, again. Still, he didn't want to the girl to get too comfortable. A change might be in order. He issued a set of orders, hoping that the abrupt change would unbalance her a bit.

Which her remained to be seen.

From her training, where she was only killed once for a change, Sarah was sent not to her room, but to meet Walter and begin learning how to pick a weapon. The old guy seemed nice, reminded her of Hoggle a bit, so she was careful not to even think of kissing him. Then, she was sent to her room again. Told to dress extra nice. Dread snaked through her. But her dream still lived in her mind. Focusing on it kept her sane.

It did not once occur to her that it might be nothing but that, a dream. That was unthinkable.

There was no table in the room that a faceless aid took her to. It was large and empty. She was allowed a few moments to be alone and wondering before Operations came in. "I decided to progress your training." A chill wrapped around her heart. "Do you know how to dance?"

Yes, but not with you, her mind snarked. Jareth, if I kiss him, will you toss him in the bog for me? Not expecting a reply, she jumped a little when his voice came through, As soon as I find you, yes. Headfirst. But for the moment, I can do nothing. Their walls have few dreams.

Ie, cooperate, to a point.

They have no power over you.

Aloud, she said, "A bit."

"Ballroom or modern?"

Both, but Sarah would not admit to one. "Modern." Waltzes were special. But if Operations insisted, she'd have no choice. Her body might waltz, but not her heart.

Jareth could not watch her while she was awake, but he could find Toby. Kidnapping her family was his only choice. Their memories could be altered later. But the damn rules...When she slept again, he'd get her to wish.

Hours later, footsore, Sarah fell into bed after showering until she felt clean again. Dancing only, but it had made her feel ill.

Jareth was waiting. "Dance with me, please, so I can enjoy it again." She plead with her voice and eyes.

But he'd known she would.

When their time drew to a close, he said, "Sarah, will you make a wish?"

"What?"

"Wish for the goblins to take your family away."

Her quick mind knew way Jareth asked, so without argument, she nodded. "I wish the goblins would take Dad and Toby, Merlin, and - and Karen away right now."

His smile took her back to Section one.

But that night she did not dream. And the king raged. Having found her he could see the barrier someone had placed in her mind.

They would die screaming.

"Whatcha take Sarah's family for?" an outraged Hoggle demanded, heeding not Jareth's angry eyes, matching each other in fury.

"To protect them,'' he deigned to answer.

"Ya think them's that kilt her will hurt them?" Hoggle asked half in fear.

"Not here, they won't," Jareth answered. "Hoggle, I want you to go above and find out all you can about section one."

"O, the gremlins talk about them all the time, " Hoggle answered.

"They do? Then find one and send it here."

Madeline frowned at the charts. All the good of two night was reversed. Sarah's brain patterns had returned to depression, worse than before.

Pages in hand, she went to Paul's office. "I think we will have to allow Sarah to dream normally."

He looked up, irritation clouding his eyes, but it usually did. "Why do you say that?"

Madeline handed the papers to him.

"And what am I supposed to be seeing?" he asked.

Concealing a smile of triumph, Madeline condescended to explain. "The patterns of repair that began when her dream life resumed were completely undone by one night of REM supression. "

Operations glared. "Why does it matter if she dreams or not?" From his view, lack of dreams would serve their purpose.

"For the moment, we need her to be able to dream. The codes are tied to her dreams and if she can not decipher them, judging from her fighting ability, she's useless to us."

"What about the Valentine ops?" he asked a bit too pointedly.

"Certainly, when she is subdued and when we do not need her decoding ability. Right now, her morals are too high for that, and Michael's reports indicate that trying to break through that must be done delicately, by trust. "

Operations sighed. In this realm, Madeline was the superior. "Very well. Do as you wish."

She would anyhow- but it was nice to have permission.

A knock interrupted them. "Come in."

One of the many faceless ops came in. "Sir, we've been monitoring the Wiliams' home since the girl was recruited," he began. Operations nodded. "They've all vanished."

"What?" the word was laced with poison.

"We didn't take our eyes off it, but shortly after dawn yesterday morning, we saw some activity there. No one ever came out though. Not all day, so this morning, we went in."

"Did anyone see you?"

"No sir, ma'am. There was no one inside. Not the man, woman, kid or dog. Suitcases still there. Nothing appeared to be missing. It's like they were all beamed up or something."

"Has she contacted anyone outside?" Operations asked Madeline.

"No. She's monitored every moment."

The agent was sweating. "Sir, one of the guys picked this up, it looked like one of her books that might not've been published yet." He held out a red leather book.

"It appears to be published."

"No, sir. There's no ISBN thing on it or author name or publisher. There'd be that if it were."

Operations nodded. "Madeline, give this to Sarah. See how she reacts. Do not tell her about her family."

She took the book.

"That will be all. Dismissed. "

Relieved to not be cancelled, the no name man and Madeline left.

On the way to Sarah's room, Madeline glanced throught the book. It bore little resemblance to Sarah's writing. However, there could be use made of it. Reassure her, win her confidence, or perhaps scare her, that they had been so close to her loved ones.

Not bothering to knock, she entered the room where Sarah readied herself for another wretched dance lesson.

"Sarah, I've brought you a gift," she announced, unknowingly echoing Jareth. This time, Sarah did not ask what.

"I believe this is one of your favorite books," Madeline continued, noting the girl's lack of reaction as she stiffly took it.

Though she wanted to know how she knew that, how they got it, Sarah did not. She was wary of snakes now. "Thank you, " was all she said.

"Was it one you were planning to publish?" Madeline went on, watching her.

"No."

"I see. Perhaps you will tell me about it someday."

"Perhaps."

Madeline waited in silence. "May I have some water?"

"Water?" What game was this? But Sarah went to her pitcher and poured a glass.

"It would be polite to drink as well," Madeline prompted. The antidote was hidden in the water, it would not affect herself, but it would affect Sarah.

"I'm not- okay."

"Social graces are also weapons, Sarah." Madeline waited until she was sure Sarah had ingested the drug, then left.

Learn some yourself, woman, Sarah thought. She looked down at the book,stealing a moment to open it. Reflexively, she found the beginning. Her own voice called from the past.

Goblin King, goblin king, wherever you may be take this child away from me.. Beneath her own voice she could almost hear the sibilant whisper, Say your right words, Sarah. And you will be free... She wondered would she, was it time?

"Tell me what to do, Jareth", she whispered, too low even for Walter's bugs to detect. Sighing, she put it down. "I need you, all of you."

Not knowing what she set in motion, she began to walk she referred to as the green mile.

Dancing lessons with Paul Wolf, Operations were torture. He and Michael alternated. The younger man seemed kinder, it felt less dirty to her. Seeing that Operations was her there, she shuddered inside, more dirty dancing, with no Patrick Swayze in sight. "I wish the goblins would come," she murmured as the threshold was crossed, not expecting anything.

But Jareth never did the expected. Alarms began ringing on the m note.

Over it, a clear voice said, "I believe I wish to have the time of my life."

Sarah whirled away from her soon to be former partner. "Jareth!"

He nodded, barely acknowledging her. "Get her out of here," he commanded someone not visible.

"Sawah." She felt hairy arms wrap around her then Section one vanished from her sight, forever.

"Ludo."

"Hey Missy, don'tcha go scarin' us like that again," Hoggle's voice gruffly ordered as the castle walls appeared.

"Verily, Fair Maiden. Do not do that to our hearts or or ," Didymus was at a loss for words. Sarah would have answered, but her voice was choked with happy tears. Especially as a small torpedo named Toby launched himself at her.

In Section One, chaos reigned. Fairies had a field day biting. Madeline learned to run, encouraged by the fieries who really wanted to toss her head. Operations had vanished, temporarily. When he returned, no one could get near him. The smell was just too awful. George was most pleased with that. Only four people in all of section were spared. Walter, Birkoff, Michael, and Nikita, whom Jareth had been told were kind to Sarah.

Sarah's life in the real world had ended. Section had seen to that. But she could still see her family, now that they knew she lived. They had to come to her. She never wanted to leave her goblin king again. Forever was not long enough for her.