A/N: This is my first Labyrinth fic. I have a significant chunk of it written already, but I'd love some feedback on it; I'm just not sure how well it fits in with the canon or how in character everybody is. Enjoy!

CHAPTER 1

Officer Jessica Barry wasn't sure she liked the man sitting in front of her. Not that she had any right to be judging a man in his situation; if anything, she should be attempting to be sympathetic to him. But she couldn't quite seem to stir up the necessary compassion for the nervously bouncing man. He was fidgeting constantly, eyes darting with fright about the room – especially towards the windows. His dark brown hair was plastered to his head with sweat, and his brown eyes were filled with apprehension. He kept twisting his pale, thin hands in his lap, occasionally unlacing the slender appendages so that he could rub his face.

He didn't have a very exciting face, Jessie decided. He more possessed the making of good looks than actual good looks. He had high, prominent cheekbones that Jessie would have killed for, and his eyes were large and doe-like with long lashes better suited for a girl. He had a weak chin and a very straight nose that almost looked a touch off-center, and his lips were thin and pale. At the moment, his almost ashen skin was creased with many lines, probably more out of concern than actual age – according to the report in her hand, he was only twenty-nine.

"You're Jared Thomas?" she asked him, blue eyes glancing down at the report and reading off the name.

"That's me," he said in a soft voice, a tiny, half-hearted smile flickering to life and dying a sickly death.

"I'm Officer Barry," she said, holding out her hand to shake. He took it; she noticed his palm was very sweaty. "People usually call me Jessie. It makes me more comfortable."

"Oh – o-okay," he said, stuttering a little. "Well, then, if it's all the same to you… most people call me Red. It's a nickname my wife started."

"Ok, that's fine, Red," Jessie said. "And you're here to report a missing person. Is that right?"

"Y-yes," Red said with a jerky nod, stuttering again. "Sarah Ann Thomas. Maiden name of Williams."

"Okay." Jessie took down the name, a lock of blonde hair escaping the ponytail at the back of her head. "And Sarah is what relation to you?"

"She's my wife," Red said quietly, hanging his head dejectedly.

Jessie finally felt a pang of sympathy. "Any kids?" she asked.

"Twins. Marie and Elizabeth. They're four," he supplied.

"And how old is Sarah?"

"Twenty-eight." He paused, then added, "She's about five feet five inches tall. She has brown hair and blue eyes and she weighs about a hundred and thirty pounds."

"Skinny girl," Jessie said in surprise.

"Yeah," Red said absently. "She doesn't eat much these days…"

"Any particular reason?" Jessie asked, looking up with a slight frown.

Red shrugged. "She has some very strange dreams sometimes," he said. "She has a lot of issues that she was trying to work out from her past. It… it gave her some trouble."

"Does Sarah have a history of mental imbalance?" Jessie questioned,

Red looked uncomfortable. "Yes, I guess," he said uncertainly. "She never saw anybody about it, of course, but, umm… yeah, she had some problems. She was pretty normal generally, but…"

"Do you know what was wrong with her?" Jessie interrupted. She instantly regretted it; Red looked even more distraught. "I'm sorry, that was insensitive," Jessie murmured.

"It's ok; you have to ask, I guess," Red said with a resigned shrug. "I don't know specifically what was wrong. I thought she was just making up weird stories to cope with some issues from her childhood. After we got married she told me that when she was fifteen her baby brother got kidnapped by this Goblin King and she had to go through this Labyrinth to save him. She said the Goblin King was still in love with her and that he might return at any time for her, and that I should probably be careful." He paused and looked searchingly at Jessie. "Crazy, right?" he said with a nervous laugh.

"Strange, definitely," Jessie agreed, a small crease appearing between her eyebrows. "Any idea why she'd come up with this kind of story?"

"I originally thought it was to cope with her mom abandoning her," Red said with a shrug. "She and her stepmother never really got along. I figured it had something to do with that. But now… look, I don't even know if she actually believed what she was telling me. I mean, it seemed like it at the time, but she was perfectly normal otherwise."

Jessie wanted to ask why a grown woman would make up such ridiculous stories for her husband, but she decided it was probably better to get off this uncertain track. "Did Sarah work?"

"Yes," Red said, sounding relieved. "She worked part-time at the public library downtown. She ran the morning story times."

Well, that explains a lot. "Ok," Jessie said, setting down her pen and pulling out a small, handheld recorder. She clicked it on and said, "All right, this is an interview with Jared Thomas, husband of Sarah Ann Thomas, maiden name Williams, who is missing. Jared, how long as Sarah been missing?"

"About a day and half," Red said, chewing his lip and turning to stare out the window again.

Jessie leaned slightly towards him, hoping to draw his attention back to her, but he was oblivious. "Jared, can you tell me what happened preceding her disappearance?"

"Ummm," Red said absently, "Not that much. We fought on Monday morning right before she got up to go to work."

"What were you fighting about?"

"She was talking about some guy in her sleep," Red said, anger flashing across his face. "I didn't know who he was at the time. I guess they go way back. Some guy named Jareth. Who the hell names their kid Jareth, anyway?" He shook his head and gave a dry laugh. "I work long hours every day. I'm an accountant and I've been taking on more time to help support Sarah and the girls. Her job doesn't pay very well, but she won't quit – she loves it too much."

"So you worked all of Monday after you fought with her?" Jessie said, gently attempting to guide him back to the topic at hand.

"Yeah," Red said, rubbing a hand over his eyes. "Yeah, I didn't get home until about ten. When I got back, I couldn't find Sarah anywhere. The kids' room was totally torn up, too – their stuff was just… everywhere. And their window was open. They wouldn't tell me what happened. When I asked where their mommy went, they said they didn't know. They told me that guy Jareth had been there, though."

"Did you see him?"

Red hesitated, as though thinking carefully. Then, he shook his head. "No," he said. "No, I didn't see him."

"Why did you wait to go to the police?"

"I thought she'd come back," Red said, almost plaintively. "I thought… I just assumed she'd come back by morning. She liked to go out at night and walk sometimes, when she had a lot on her mind. And if she was going to go off and have an affair with some random guy with a weird name, then to hell with her. I thought I'd confront her about it in the morning. But when I woke up she wasn't back and… well, then I started getting worried."

"Is that all that happened?"

He paused again, chewing his lip, his eyes cloudy. "Yes," he said finally. "Yes, that's it."

"Had Sarah been acting strangely prior to this incident?" Jessie asked.

"No. Well… she kept having these disturbing dreams, I guess. She talked a lot in her sleep – lots about the Jareth guy." Red shrugged once again. "I don't know what he has to do with anything, really, or if he does. I just know that he kept coming up."

Jessie nodded shortly and clicked off the tape recorder. "You said that your girls' room was trashed and that they claim they saw Jareth?" she asked.

"Yes," Red said, nodding.

"We'll need to interview the girls," Jessie said, glancing up from under a heavy set of darkened lashes. "They may have more information on where their mother went, and if Jareth has anything to do with it. You don't happen to have a last name for this man, do you?"

Red shook his head. "She only ever mentioned the first name," he said, almost regretfully.

"All right," Jessie said, smiling in an attempt to be comforting. "How difficult can it be to find some guy named Jareth, right? There can't be many people running around with a name like that."

Red smiled slightly. "I hope not," he said. His face grew grave again. "I should warn you that the girls don't like to talk to anyone," he added. "They're… very introverted. They don't even like talking to me that much."

"Autistic?" Jessie asked.

"Their mother didn't think so," Red said with a shake of his head. "More that they're just… odd."

Jessie frowned slightly, but nodded. "I'll be over early this evening," she said. "Six sound good?"

"Sounds fine," Red said, but it seemed like his mind was elsewhere.

"All right, Mr. Thomas, you are free to go," Jessie told him, looking down at the paperwork on her desk. "I'll be around at six o'clock to interview the girls."

"Thank you, Ms. Barry," he said, getting up and walking out of the door.

Jessie followed him with her bright blue eyes as he walked out, a stormy look on her face. She had the feeling this case was going to prove to be her strangest yet…

The argument was hanging like a storm cloud in the air of their bedroom. Sarah could feel it even through the veil of sleep still fogging her half-awake brain. She must have spoken in her sleep again. She knew she had dreamed of the Labyrinth last night – but when had she not dreamed of the Labyrinth? It was so much a part of her night that she would have been concerned if she hadn't seen it. There were times when she missed it so - the Labyrinth, and its master…

Jareth…

The alarm abruptly began screaming in Sarah's ear, and she flinched, gripping at the sheets as her mind similarly clung desperately to the remaining shreds of her dreams. No, no, not yet… Jareth…!

Sarah!

"Sarah, wake up."

There was nothing for it; she had to let go. "I'm awake," she said grouchily, rolling onto her back and rubbing her eyes. She blinked several times before opening them slowly, the room gradually coming into focus. It was still dark; Sarah closed her eyes again, wishing she could sleep longer. In her mind, she attempted to find something to focus on besides the impending fight. She found it in a few moments; the ceiling fan was going even though the air was positively frigid. "Turn the fan off," she groaned, tugging the blankets up over her chin.

The fan was off with a click, and the room gradually fell into eerie silence as the whir and hum died away. "You were talking in your sleep. Again." Red made no effort to hide the resentment he was feeling.

Sarah opened her eyes again and rolled over to face her husband. "What did I say?" she asked resignedly, although she already knew the answer.

Red's brown eyes were narrowed accusingly. "Jareth," he said tersely. There was anger in his posture as he stood by the edge of their bed. "You know, when we first got married, I always thought you were saying my name."

Guilt bubbled inside the pit of her stomach. "Jared -!"

"No, don't." Red sounded tired. "I'm sick of all your Labyrinth crap. We've been through this a million times -!"

"It happened, Jared!" Sarah said forcefully, hands clenching into fists. "It's not some strange fantasy I created to cope with the loss of my mother or the appearance of my stepmother or anything like that! It's real!"

"Sarah." Red was using the gentle but firm tone that Sarah despised above all others – because it meant that he was being both rational and patient, and it condescendingly implied that she was purely emotional and foolish. "I really think you ought to see my therapist," he said, for what seemed the ten millionth time since Sarah had told him of her adventures in the Labyrinth. "We can work through this together," he continued, with great conviction. "You know I'll be there for you through the whole process."

"I wish you'd be equally there for me the rest of the time," Sarah said spitefully.

Now Red was defensive. "What's that supposed to mean?" he snapped.

"I think you know." Sarah threw the blankets aside and leapt from bed.

"Just because I'm working my ass off right now – which I do to support your passion for imaginary worlds which, incidentally, puts you in a job that pays shit – doesn't meant I'm not 'there' for you!" Red snarled, voice rising with his temper.

"Even if I didn't' have my job, you'd still be working your ass off," Sarah said coldly. "You wanted me to stay home with the girls after they were born."

"Is it so wrong to want them to be close to their mother?" Red demanded. "Children need their mothers' influence in their lives!"

"My job gives me plenty of flexibility," Sarah said heatedly. "I'm there to bring them home every day from preschool – which is a hell of a lot more than I can say for you!"

Red looked ready to throw something, but he kept his temper in check. He turned away and tore a shirt from its hanger in the closet. "I've got to go to work," he said, his voice chilly.

"You always do," Sarah said nastily.

He didn't take the bait. "Just remember what we agreed on, will you?" he asked. "I know they've been badgering you for the story."

Sarah didn't reply. She turned her back to him as she pulled a dress from her closet. She could feel him staring at her, but she still refused to answer. He heaved a sigh, grabbed his clothes, and walked out of the door to the bathroom, leaving her alone and cold in the bedroom.

Sarah had the sickening feeling that she wasn't in her house anymore.

Not that the atmosphere of the area around her was unfamiliar. Even with her eyes tightly closed Sarah inherently recognized the feel of the place. But it definitely wasn't her house, with her girls and Red. At the moment she was hesitant to call him 'husband.' They'd been fighting so much recently...

Sarah squinted her eyes shut more tightly than before and winced. She and Red's fighting was a secondary problem at the moment. Of greater importance was the question of how she had found herself, once again, in the Underground – for, she concluded, that was the only place she could possibly be.

She grimaced as though she were in great pain and gritted her teeth. She was fairly certain she could already trace the cause of her presence here to one man – or, more accurately, Fae. "Jareth," she said, a statement and not a question.

"Ah, so you are awake." Jareth's voice, husky but full of mocking, invaded her ears. "I was beginning to wonder if you always made faces like that in your sleep, or if you were actually waking up at last."

Sarah's eyes flew open, and she sat up, startled by the words "at last." Her bright green eyes quickly took in the room that Jareth had brought her to. "Is this your bedroom?" she asked in alarm, noting the sandstone walls, the elegant carvings of faeries, Elvin folk, and (appropriately) goblins. The most important factor in her deduction was of course the rather massive bed on which she found herself – a huge circular cushioned thing laden in pillows, surrounded by crimson velvet curtains and draped in silk sheets. It made her think of something she might have seen in the Arabian nights. "Is this where you keep your harem?" she asked in disgust.

Jareth chuckled. "Apparently so, since you're here, and my harem at the moment is comprised solely of you."

"At the moment?" Sarah repeated sharply.

Jareth threw back his head and laughed. "Is this jealousy I sense?" he said in delight. "I had no idea my Sarah could feel as possessive of me as I do of her."

"I'm not your Sarah," Sarah mumbled, but there was relatively little conviction. Her eyes flickered rapidly over him; his hair was still blonde and shoulder-length, but she thought she spotted a few silver streaks amongst the gold. He was wearing tight gray breeches with knee-high black boots and a black shirt open at the front – nothing more. Sarah turned her eyes elsewhere as a slight blush crept up her cheeks; she silently prayed he hadn't noticed her close scrutiny. "What did you mean, 'at last?'" she asked him.

"You've been asleep almost thirteen hours," Jareth said, nodding to a gorgeous crystal clock hanging on the wall before the bed. Both hands pointed at the number thirteen. Sarah shivered slightly, recalling her run in the Labyrinth.

"I take it no one's looking for me," she said resignedly. Or if they are, they've lost.

"Looking?" Jareth laughed, a bit cruelly. "No, my Queen, no one's looking for you."

Sarah's eyes narrowed. "Don't you dare refer to me as your queen!" she snapped, leaping from the bed. "Just because you kidnapped me doesn't mean I automatically belong to you!"

"Yes, actually, it does," Jareth informed her with a smug grin.

Sarah frowned, dropping back onto the bed with a slight huff. "That rule only applies to those you kidnap on the command of someone from Above," she said certainly. She was pretty sure she'd read that somewhere in her old, worn copy of The Labyrinth. "And there was no one to wish me away!"

Jareth cocked an eyebrow at her. "Wasn't there?"

Sarah's frown deepened, and she mentally went through the list of people who might dislike her enough to wish her away to the Underground, and then compared that to the list of people who would even have a vague idea of what the Underground was. The results proved to her that she was right. "No, there wasn't," she said stubbornly.

Jareth's expression was infuriatingly self-satisfied. "Sarah, let me ask you something," he said, folding his hands before him. "If I have been entirely capable of kidnapping you without being commanded to do so for the past – what is it now? Thirteen years?" He paused and chuckled. "That's ironic," he said in amusement. When he saw Sarah wasn't laughing with him, he stopped. "If I have been capable of that," he continued, "Then what in the world do you think has been stopping me?"

It was a good question. Sarah had to puzzle over it for a moment before she had an answer, and it wasn't very good. "Red?" she suggested timidly.

A cloud passed over Jareth's face. "Hardly," he said, his voice dripping with derision. "It would seem more likely that he might be the catalyst that would cause my random kidnapping of you. Which is true, in a way," he said with a thoughtful frown. He then waved a hand dismissively in the air and went on. "But no matter. Jared has only been present in your life for the past seven years. What was stopping me for the previous six years?"

"Sarah-proofing the Labyrinth?" Sarah suggested jokingly.

He smiled. "A worthy pursuit," he said, "But no. The fact is, Sarah, that there would have been nothing to prevent me from stealing you back the very instant you and your baby brother were returned safely to your house. Do you think I would have let you go if I'd had a choice?"

Sarah shook her head slowly. "No, not really," she admitted.

"Then logic would suggest that someone must have sent you here," Jareth said. "I realize you're not necessarily a logical person – neither am I in the typical sense of the word – but Jared certainly is, and having spent seven years trapped with him I would think some of it perhaps would have rubbed off on you."

Sarah grimaced. "Not… exactly," she said.

Jareth pretended to be concerned. "Oh, dear," he said, pressing a hand to his heart. "Don't tell me that you and your beloved husband are perhaps not getting along as well as you should be?"

Sarah wanted to throw something at him, but the only thing conveniently available was a pillow. She glared pitilessly at him instead. "We're having some disagreements, but we'll fix them," she said with more confidence than she felt. "Once I get home, that is."

"Ah – about that," Jareth said, pointing at her as though he'd just recalled something. "As you were wished here by someone from the mortal world, and no one took up the challenge to rescue you, and the typical thirteen hours have already passed anyway by about seven minutes, you are now a denizen of the Underground – and the Underground is not willing to let go of those who belong to it. As you are quite the flight risk, you are never permitted to return Above."

"What?" Sarah shrieked, jaw dropping open. "But that's not –!" She winced and stopped herself from saying her too often spoken mantra. "Of course it isn't," she said in response to herself. "It's Jareth."

Jareth laughed, and Sarah glared at him. "I'm glad you're amused by this situation," she spat at him.

"Not amused – just pleased." Out of nowhere he conjured a crystal, and with a twist of his hand, it became Sarah's least favorite fruit. "Peach?" he offered, a twisted gleam of enjoyment in his mismatched eyes.

Sarah shuddered and gagged slightly. "No!" she said vehemently.

He shrugged. "Suit yourself," he said, tossing it carelessly into the air. Sarah wasn't in the least bit surprised when it disappeared. "I notice that you haven't attempted to guess who sent you here," he said.

Sarah chewed her lip. "The girls, perhaps?" she said, thinking of her twin daughters with a pang of sadness. Absently, she murmured, "I'll never see them again…"

A look of genuine concern crossed Jareth's face. "I'll bring them here for you," he assured her. "They don't deserve to be left with that mortal you married."

Sarah shot him a disgusted look. "He's their father," she said, rather more forcefully than one might have expected.

"Is he?" Jareth said in a bored tone. Before Sarah could say anything in response, he said, "It doesn't matter; they're twins."

"And that has what to do with it?" Sarah asked suspiciously.

"All twins have some sort of association with the faerie world," Jareth explained. "You don't think twins are really just biological coincidences, do you? Some kind of magic has to be involved for two children to grow at the same time. So all twins are halfway part of the Underground and halfway part of the mortal world. They can choose which world they spend their time in, but eventually they all return to the home of their hearts."

"Here?" Sarah asked, a bit hopefully.

"Yes, here," Jareth said. "I don't need an excuse to fetch them; they belong here as much as I do. I can bring them here anytime I like."

"Then until I've found a way to get out of here, I'd like to see them as often as possible," she said.

Jareth sighed. "You won't escape, Sarah," he told her. "You've been wished here and left. You belong to me."

That pricked Sarah's independent soul. "No one sent me here!" she exclaimed. "The girls wouldn't be so cruel -!"

"No, I'm sure they miss you," Jareth interjected.

" – And I know no one else who would have done this," Sarah said angrily. "You kidnapped me!"

"Kidnapping is one of the major portions of my job description," Jareth said unapologetically. "And you're obviously not thinking clearly about who sent you here. Actually, I'm surprised you don't remember."

Sarah blinked in surprise. "I was there?" she questioned.

"Oh, yes," Jareth said, studying the fingertips of his gloves with a tiny frown. "You were fighting with someone you claim to love very dearly, as I recall."

Sarah thought about that for a minute, anger momentarily smothered beneath her confusion. Suddenly she realized to whom Jareth was referring. "Red doesn't believe in the Labyrinth," she said – but she felt dread creeping through her veins.

"I know that," Jareth said, a wide smirk growing on his face. "Believe me, I know it quite well."

"Then he couldn't have wished me here," Sarah said impatiently, her anger growing again quickly.

"Oh, I'm sure he didn't mean what he said," Jareth said with a careless shrug. "As I recall you didn't exactly mean to wish your brother away, but I came as you asked and did as you bid me. I'm doing Jared the same favor – only he forfeited you to me rather more easily."

Sarah childishly covered her ears to block out the harsh words. In some ways, Jareth made her feel like a child again – maybe because she associated him so much with the fantasies pervading her girlhood. "I don't believe you!" she exclaimed.

Jareth snorted disdainfully. "Next thing you know, you'll slip up again and tell me it's not fair," he said

"It isn't," Sarah said petulantly, removing her hands from her ears a bit sheepishly. "But I learned a long time ago that that hardly matters to you." She glanced around the room again – anywhere but at her adversary's face. "You said you weren't technically permitted to kidnap someone without being ordered to do so," she said, still refusing to believe what he had claimed about Jared.

"I didn't kidnap you without permission," Jareth said composedly. "You know, you and Jared are rather similar, in that you both have the most sickening habit of denying the truth when it's looking you in the face."

"I haven't noticed you being particularly accepting of the truth when it doesn't suit your purposes," Sarah fired back, whipping her head around to look at Jareth.

He raised a perfectly arched brow. "I don't deny the truth," he said; "I just attempt to trick my way out its being true."

Sarah couldn't help smiling at that. She ducked her head to try to hide the grin, but Jareth caught it. "Aha!" he exclaimed, pushing himself from the wall and striding across the room to her. "I knew beneath that hard exterior you had a soft spot for me."

"I don't," Sarah said, annoyed by his characteristically smug display. He dropped down next to her, and she gave a tiny cry and scuttled across the bed to get away from him. "What are you doing?" she asked sharply.

"What do you think I'm doing?" Jareth asked a bit testily. "I'm attempting to sit by you so we can have a conversation at a normal distance."

"Does anyone ever have a conversation with you at close quarters?" Sarah questioned. "I can't imagine any of your goblin minions getting that close to you without being kicked or hit or something of that variety. And since everyone who's intelligent is afraid of you…"

"You're not afraid of me," Jareth pointed out.

"Jareth," Sarah said scornfully, "You have no idea how afraid I am of you."

That brought a smile to the Goblin King's face. "Not as afraid as you obviously think you are," he said with a fond shake of his head. He tapped the patch of bed beside him with his hand. "Come here."

Sarah violently shook her head. She wanted to pull her knees up to her chest, but she was wearing a pencil skirt that clung uncomfortably tight about her legs and didn't allow her much freedom of movement, so she folded them mermaid-style instead. "I'm married, you know," she said uselessly. It was absurd, but somehow she thought making that announcement aloud would ward off her extraordinarily persistent suitor.

Jareth rolled his eyes, completely unperturbed. "Mortal marriages," he said with great contempt, "Are of no consequence to immortals like myself. When mortals join our world, all their bonds to the mortal world are broken – which leaves us free to forge new ones."

"Which is exactly what you plan on doing," Sarah said, narrowing her eyes.

"Yes," Jareth said unapologetically. "And we might as well start now – don't you think?"

"No," Sarah said, tossing her legs over the opposite side of the bed, standing with a bit of difficulty in her high heels, and walking to a corner of the room, where she settled herself with her nose in the air and her arms over her chest. "Red will eventually find me."

"It wouldn't matter if he did," Jareth said, anger starting to edge his voice. Sarah guessed that he didn't like the mention of her mortal husband. "He gave you to me with no demands and no offer to win you back. He sent me to retrieve you and left you to me. By right, you belong to me, Sarah."

"I will never belong to you!" Sarah exploded, her arms dropping to her sides and her hands clenching into fists. "You can't own me, Jareth!"

Jareth regarded her with mismatched eyes that were disturbingly tired and sad. "That's just the thing," he said. "I already do."

He stood, walking across his bed as though it wasn't even there. He dropped off the opposite side and approached her corner with a stride somewhere between arrogant and cautious. Sarah's heart leapt to her throat and her lips parted slightly as her breathing turned shallow in reaction to his proximity. Jareth noticed her reaction and barely managed to quash his smile. "Sarah," he said, his voice soft, "I'm not doing this to hurt you."

"Fooled me," Sarah muttered, her eyes dropping to her feet.

Apparently he didn't see fit to respond to this. She glanced up, vaguely surprised at his silence, and inhaled sharply when she saw that he was resting his hand on the wall right next to her shoulder, easily supporting the weight of his slender body on that arm. His face was merely inches from hers. "Sarah…" he murmured, leaning forward to kiss her.

She almost – almost – let him do it. But her naturally rebellious spirit cried out in protest, and she turned her cheek at the last second, tearing away from the wall and slipping past him. She stood with her back half turned to him in the midst of the room, her cheeks flaming. "Don't touch me," she ordered.

First hurt, then anger, then an ugly sneer crossed the Goblin King's features. "It's a little late for that, isn't it, dear Sarah?" he said acerbically.

The statement would, to any outside observer, have made no sense; but it obviously had some significance to Sarah, because she flushed even more darkly. "I'm leaving," she said through gritted teeth.

"Oh no you're not!" Jareth seethed.

His hand shot up and the door to the bedroom slammed tightly shut just as Sarah reached it. She was a bit too old to bang her fists against the obstinate doors, so she simply turned back to Jareth with a vicious glare. "Let. Me. Out," she said, slowly and deliberately.

"No," Jareth said flatly. "You're not going anywhere until you remember how you happened to find yourself here. You may be very surprised when it comes back to you."

"That I doubt," Sarah scoffed.

Jareth gave her a stony glare in response. "I'll be in my throne room kicking my subjects," he said with a very sarcastic bow. "Call if you should require me."

And with that, he vanished.