Disclaimer: Unfortunately, my friends, I do not own anything even vaguely Labyrinth related. I am a mere manipulator of Henson's genius, and all i recieve from the following silliness is a sense of well-being and freedom from the plot fairies that have taken up a tinkling existence in the back of my brain.

Chapter One

Why me? Why today? Did I step on a cosmic bug of tranquility, and it's taking its revenge on me?

"Remember, Sar, think Zen," I told myself as I stood outside my apartment door, holding a key that I knew full well worked yesterday, the day before, and every single effing day in the three years that I had lived in this building, but was refusing to work now.

Taking a deep breath, aligning myself with the universe and whatnot, I calmly re-inserted the little silver key into the lock, and, still calm and at peace with the cosmos, turned it.

Only to have it snap off in my hand.

"GAAAARRRGH!" I screamed, chucking the stub of metal at my door and letting out a string of epithets that would make a sailor cringe. I backed up and roundhouse kicked the stubborn slab of wood, insulting it's mother and her loose morals, and found that despite the horrid shock it sent through my leg, it felt quite nice to cause my foe some physical damage.

So I did it again. About seven times.

After which, I collapsed on the floor and cradled my poor, throbbing foot. Glaring at the barrier between me and my beloved apartment, I summoned up as much venom as my 5'8" frame could handle without exploding, and snarled at it.

"So help me, door, if you don't open in the next three seconds…" I started, but my vituperative threats were suddenly rendered unnecessary. No sooner had I uttered the word 'open', than the evil contraption had creaked ajar of it's own accord. Cautiously standing, I inched forward, fully prepared to pound the thing to smithereens if it snapped shut on me again. Rather than close, however, it swung inward and out barreled Domino, my Boxer-Dalmatian puppy mix, quick on the heels of several terrified, squealing goblins.

They crashed into me with impressive force and we tumbled down in a heap of fur and tangled limbs, of which, unsurprisingly, I was at the bottom.

"Lady Sarah!" I heard one of the goblins squeak happily, and the three or four of his brethren quickly repeated him, all squirming and wriggling until they sat atop my chest and beamed down at me. I noticed one of them was wearing one of my coffee mugs on his head.

"Hiya, Lady Sarah!" they chirped. "We been waiting for you!"

"Woof!" Domino agreed.

"Hey, guys, nice to see you. Why don't we go on in the house now?" I suggested breathlessly.

"H'okay, Lady Sarah!" they chorused, and scrambled off me. I lay there for a moment more, sucking in a gulp of precious air as everyone vacated my chest. Well, everyone but Domino.

Tail wagging energetically, he wiggled his way to my head and proceeded to bathe my face with his slobbery, goblin-scented tongue. I cringed and attempted to shove his enormous head away, but he ignored my pushing and began dutifully cleaning my ears.

Squeaking, I clamped my hand around his muzzle, imprisoning the wayward tongue in his mouth, and gave him a quick kiss on the nose as I wiped my face off.

"Hello, Mister Puppy," I said, and he gave me a doggy grin (or what would have been, had I not secured his jaws shut), tail wagging fast enough to break the sound barrier. Despite the fact that my eighty-three pound puppy was actually three years old, his nickname, Mister Puppy, still stuck. In fact, I think he preferred it.

"Have you been keeping the goblins out of my sock drawers?" I asked him. He snorted and tried to lick my hand. I laughed and released his snout, capturing his head and placing a big kiss on his forehead. He grinned, tongue lolling about happily in it's freedom.

"Good boy, Domino. Come on, let's go see what they want," I said, and hauled myself to my feet, cursing my earlier tantrum as my leg wailed it's protest. At least now I understood why my door hadn't opened. Things had a tendency to malfunction around the goblins…

As I entered my apartment, I gave thanks to whatever god had seen fit to bless me with not only my diligent guard dog, Mister Puppy, but with a never-ending craving for obscenely spicy foods. Not only was my bedroom (and all of my drawers) completely untouched, but my kitchen remained unravaged as well. After several attempts to raid my pantry and encountering nothing but jalapeño-flavored this and habanera-flavored that, the goblins had decided my pantry was guarded over by a curse that caused the 'burny-mouths', and now regarded it with something akin to terrified wonder.

Of course, the rest of my home was in shambles.

During their chasing, Domino and the goblins had somehow managed to knock over my coffee table, tip my couch and move it a good five feet from it's previous position, knock over every lamp in sight, and spread magazines, bills, and whatever other mail and paper-related objects they could find across the entirety of my apartment.

I considered myself fortunate they hadn't found the toilet paper.

Sighing, I closed my door and set my purse down beside it, kicking my shoes off and shrugging out of my coat.

"Alright, guys, you know what time it is…" I said, pulling my hair back into a ponytail. I was met with a mix of whines, pleas, boos, and one or two confused "Yaaaya!"s from the goblins, and a growl from Domino.

"Ah, now, you know better. Come on, help me out and I'll get you guys some hot chocolate," I offered, which was met with a much more positive round of noise.

"Lady Sarah, can we sing the cleaning song?" piped up the coffee mug wearer, who I had learned was named Dizz, as we started gathering up the paper confetti from my floor. I grimaced inside - why had I taught them that? - and forced a smile.

"Sure, go ahead," I said reluctantly, and was rewarded with a round of "Hurrah! Hail her Tallness!", which thankfully subsided quickly. "But quietly! Remember the Evil Bear-Man downstairs…" I warned. A stubby little goblin with orange horns and a marble lodged in one nostril shuddered.

"Not the Bear-Man…" he said fearfully. I patted his head.

"Don't worry, Keego, just keep it quiet and the Bear-Man will stay in hibernation," I assured him. Looking comforted, he promptly joined the efforts to right my coffee table and launched into song.

I cringed and tried to tell myself this was worth it - when they sang, they stayed focused and this mess would be cleaned in half the time. Their horrible, tone deaf voices were worth it, honestly.

I sighed. At least the lyrics were cute. As I returned my couch to it's proper position, another of my little companions tugged on my jeans. I looked down at him and pushed a few stray hairs out of my face. It was Gimp, so dubbed because at some point in time he had gotten his foot stuck in a teapot and now walked with a clonking limp.

"Yes, Gimp?" I asked, smiling. He ducked his head bashfully.

"Would you sing with us, Lady Sarah?" he asked shyly. I grinned at him and turned to the rest of the group.

"Would you all like me to join in?" I asked, and received an enthusiastic 'yes'.

"Alright, then. But that means only one story tonight," I warned. A couple of them pouted, but for the most part my condition was basically ignored. They all knew I'd read them more than one story anyways. Taking a deep breath, I launched into the song I'd taught them (at the time thinking 'Won't it be cute to have a bunch of singing goblins'. Oh, how wrong was I…). I'd made up the lyrics one night on a whim and set them more or less to the tune of 'I'm a Little Teapot', not that you could tell.

"Last night I ventured 'neath my bed

Expecting to find the socks I'd shed

But lo, instead did my eyes behold

A terrible army, of horrors untold!

Glowing red eyes and craggely teeth

As my heart fluttered, "Spare my life!" I beseeched

Long shiny claws raked out at the dark

Lucky for me, they missed their mark

I threw at them the broom to ward them away

"Begone, foul beasts, I forbid you to stay!"

From under the bed came a heart-wrenching cry

It tore at my ears, then fades to a sigh

I peeked under the dust ruffle, fear tight in my tummy,

Then realized, dear me, I'd just vanquished dust bunnies!"

In but three or four rounds of the song, we had finished all but the most paltry messes, and I was pretty much done with cleaning. Standing in the middle of my apartment, I looked around with my hands on my hips and nodded, satisfied.

"I think that's good for tonight," I said, and grinned at the cheers it elicited from my motley cleaning crew.

"Cocoa, Cocoa, Cocoa!" The goblins chanted, milling around my legs and pushing me in the direction of the kitchen. Laughing, I followed their urging.

After equipping Domino with a bowl of warm milk and everyone else with a plastic cup of hot cocoa (Dizz had insisted on using his 'hat', calling it 'his special drinker' and ignoring the fact that it used to be mine), we settled down in the living room, snuggled up in blankets, for story time.

"Alright, which story would you like to hear tonight, guys?" I asked. "And remember, only one. I have to save my voice," I told the groaning goblins.

By day, I was not actually a goblin nursemaid. I was actually a writer of children's books, (a far cry from my childhood dream of acting, but dreams change - particularly after they've been twisted and sabotaged by Goblin Kings) for which I often did readings at local nurseries, daycares, and libraries.

Hmm. Alright, so I guess I was a nursemaid by day.

I had a week-long engagement at a nearby bookstore to read my two newest books, Dizz the Magnificent, and Marbles for Teapots, which were quite obviously inspired by my present company. I figured, hey, if I was going to be subjected to utter silliness when I came home, I might as well get some compensation from it. At least their King kept his distance.

Oh, yes, what a perk, a little voice inside my head said sarcastically. I scowled at it and willed it away. I was in no mood to think about said mysterious (-ly alluring), glittery (gorgeous), tight-panted (Oh, you noticed that, did you?) King of the goblins.

"This one, Lady Sarah!" said and unfortunate little guy by the name of No-Nose, for quite fitting and obvious reasons, as he set one of my older creations in my lap - No-Nose Knows. I smiled at him.

"Alright, this one it is," I agreed, and he chirped happily, snuggling into my legs. I looked around at all their upturned, waiting, squished and warty little faces, and smiled. No matter how rotten my day had been (breaking your key in the door) or how foul a mood I'd been in (it doesn't get pissier than accusing a door's mother of being licentious), sitting at home, reading to my little goblin friends never failed to cheer me up.

I snuggled deeper into the couch and started reading.

Lounging gracefully on his throne, Jareth watched as his subjects trailed in, looking sleepy, and, dare he say it, happily content. They were never like this. If they weren't bouncing off the walls, something was amiss.

Unfortunately, this breach of protocol had been happening with alarming frequency as of late.

Stretching out a leg, he stopped a passing goblin who'd had his foot lodged in a teapot for ages, and reached down to turn his head toward him with a gloved finger.

"Where have you been tonight?" Jareth demanded.

"Above," the goblin responded sleepily.

"Yes, I assumed that, but where Above? What have you been doing?" he said impatiently. The little creature beamed.

"Listening to stories! We heard about a ferret tonight!" he said, a little more alertness in his features.

"Nuh-uh, it was a donkey…" objected a fellow wandering by with an upside-down mug on his head, which was leaking rivulets of brown liquid down his face.

"I liked the one about marbles," offered another one with orange horns, spinning the marble lodged in his nose with one finger. Jareth released the teapot-walker and slumped in his throne again, utterly nonplussed. He should have known better than to try and get any real information from his subjects.

Author's Note: Well, there's chapter one for you. Much more on the way, worry not, but i seem to notice that things progress much quicker when I am urged on by many loving reviews. (translation : review, pretty please! *bats eyelashes*)