I had started revising this old fic awhile back, but set it aside to work on other things. However, in tribute to the late, great David Bowie, I pulled it out today and finished revising it in order to post. Farewell, Mr. Bowie. Your brilliance will be sorely missed.

Disclaimers: Labyrinth and the characters of Labyrinth do not belong to me. I am merely borrowing them for the purpose of writing this story. However, all characters never appearing in the movie or the novelization are mine, as is this story, plot and setting.

ONE

"Hello! Earth calling Sarah Williams! Are you in there?"

A hard fist rapped against Sarah's head, making her jump in surprise and snap out of the daze she'd fallen into while listening to her friend prattle on about … something or other. She immediately brought her attention back to Kimberly and did her best to look as though she'd been paying attention to whatever the petite high-school senior had been telling her.

Something to do with the English Literature exam they were supposed to be studying for? No, they'd pretty much given up actual studying as soon as the snacks and hot chocolate had made an appearance, courtesy of Sarah's step-mom. "Um … right. That'll be fine," she hazarded, not at all certain of what "that" was.

Kim wasn't buying it, of course; she slanted her friend a suspicious look. "Okay, fess up. You didn't hear a word I said."

"Of course I did." Sarah squirmed guiltily. "I just … uh..."

Kim smirked, eyes taking on a mischievous gleam. "Really, now. If that's the case, why did you just agree to hide my kid sister's Christmas present in your bedroom?"

Sarah blinked. "Wh-what's wrong with that?" she stammered, trying to recall even a snippet of the conversation. No good. She'd been zoned out.

"What's wrong with it?" Kim hooted with laughter. "My parents bought her a pony."

Sarah opened her mouth to offer an excuse, found no immediate explanation forthcoming, and instead offered a sheepish grin. "All right, fine," she admitted. "You caught me. I'm sorry. I was thinking about something."

"You're always thinking about something. What's bugging you this time? Having trouble in your acting class again?"

She shrugged, swirling the dredges of her cocoa around in the mug. "Nah. It's going okay, I guess."

"You guess?" Kim pursed her lips. "You were leaping for joy at the chance to take this weekend course. It's just what you always wanted, you said. What happened?"

Sarah shrugged again. "I don't know," she sighed. "I guess … it isn't what I thought it'd be. It's been six months since the classes started, and so far the only thing I've learned from Madam Carter is how much I absolutely suck at acting. I can't seem to get anything right! I think Madam Carter's given up on me by this point. She says my heart isn't in it, and it shows through my dialogue and actions. She says I'm wooden and … disinterested."

"Ah, what does she know? It isn't like she's a first-class actress or anything!" Kim scoffed. "Don't they say 'Those who can't, teach', or something like that?"

"Well, but, she's no slouch. She's got years of experience and I can't help thinking that maybe she's not wrong." Sarah frowned. "All I ever wanted was to be an actress, like my mom. But lately, it just … doesn't hold the same appeal. The idea just doesn't excite me like it used to. And the more Madam Carter insists that I'm just wasting my time on something I don't really love, the more I believe her. Ever since that dream started—"

"Oh, not the dream again." Kim shook her head, looking disgusted. "What's with this dream, anyway? You keep talking about it, but you never really talk about it! Like, what's this dream all about, anyway?"

"That isn't important." Sarah waved off her questions. "But wouldn't you think it's weird if you started having the exact same dream over and over again? It's been going on ever since—" She snapped her mouth shut, cutting herself off before she blurted something that she knew Kim would never understand.

Kim didn't look satisfied. "So, why all the secrecy? Why not just tell me what it's about? Or is it something dirty you're too embarrassed to admit to?" She grinned and waggled her eyebrows.

Sarah pulled a pillow off her bed and threw it at her, nearly knocking the plate of cookies off her desk. "Don't be disgusting!"

"Oh, sorry. I forgot I was talking to a prude for a minute." Kim rolled her eyes and threw the pillow back at her. "So, just spill it already! You know I'll keep nagging until you do."

Sarah heaved a long-suffering sigh. Kimberly did not make idle threats. If she wanted to know something, she'd keep prying until she got annoying enough to make Sarah cave in. "Oh, fine," she huffed. "But I'm telling you, it's not that exciting. It starts with me running through a dark forest. I can hear someone calling my name, and I keep trying to find him, but I—"

"Ohhh, so there is a 'him' involved, huh?" Kim perked up with interest, and Sarah wished she'd kept her mouth shut.

"Anyhow, his voice eventually brings me into this beautiful clearing that's bathed all in silver light. The moon is out, and it's so big it fills the sky, which is practically dripping with stars. It's the kind of setting you'd read in a fairy tale, you know?"

"Yeah. Sure." Kim was giving her that look. The one she reserved specifically for people she believed were about two grapes short of a fruitcake.

Sarah glanced away, embarrassed. She considered Kim a friend, but she knew they didn't have much in common, except they happened to sit next to each other in English Literature. She was pretty sure Kim preferred fashion magazines over fairy tales and mythology, though. "A-anyway," she mumbled, "it's always right there that I wake up. I never get to see his face or anything. Weird, huh?"

"Oh, I dunno." Kim's eyes were twinkling. "Sounds like maybe somebody has a little crush on somebody else," she teased. "Do you recognize the voice or anything? Does he sound cute? Ooh, maybe it's that John guy from your acting class! He's got a cute little ass, and I'll bet you totally check him out when you think nobody's watching."

"Don't be stupid." Sarah glared at her friend, wounded by her lack of sympathy, even if it was no more than she'd expected. "I do not check him out! Besides, pretty sure John has a boyfriend."

"Oh. Well, then maybe it's got something to do with the whole acting thing? Like, you know, a premonition or something. The voice is, like, your future calling to you, and you gotta follow it to get to it."

"Thanks, Yoda. Any more pearls of wisdom to drop into my lap?"

"Well, excuse me for trying to help!" Kim pouted and flipped her blond hair over her shoulder. "What do you think it means then, smartass?"

Sarah shrugged. "If I knew that, it wouldn't bug me so much," she grumbled. "I don't think it has anything to do with acting, though." In fact, she had a pretty good idea that it had everything to do with another matter, entirely. But she sure wasn't about to raise that particular subject. "I've been thinking lately, maybe it's time to give up on trying to become an actress."

There was a moment of stunned silence, before Kim was suddenly scrambling across the rug and taking Sarah's shoulders in a hard grip. "Are you crazy?" she shrieked, giving her a little shake. "Ever since I met you, all you've talked about was becoming an actress like your mom! Your dad spent five hundred bucks for this class you're taking, and now you're saying you don't want to act?"

"It's not that I don't want to. Sort of. I mean, it's kind of hard to stay motivated to keep pursuing acting when all I'm ever told is how I'm not good enough and … and maybe I'm really not. Besides that, I… Well, something happened a few years back that kind of made me rethink some of my life goals. Before, I wanted to be just like my mom, but now, I dunno. Maybe I don't really care whether I'm like her or not. I mean, it's not like she'd care whether I followed in her footsteps or anything. I haven't even seen her since I was eight years old."

Kim shrugged. "Look, I'm no student counselor. But it's your life, and if you don't want to act, then don't. Just remember, we're seniors now, and graduation isn't that far off. You should start deciding on some other career path, unless you'll be satisfied with flipping hamburgers or cleaning someone else's toilets for the rest of your life once we get out there in the real world." She started gathering forgotten notebooks and papers, jamming them into her book bag. "Also, don't tell your parents that they wasted five hundred bucks on a class you aren't even interested in anymore. They'll probably disown you."

Sarah grinned weakly as she escorted Kim to the front door, their "study session" over for the day.

Christmas vacation had officially started, and in two days, the family was traveling to the country to visit Sarah's grandparents. She had not seen them in nearly a year, and while she was glad for the chance to visit, at the same time she almost wished she could stay behind. She wasn't into celebrating Christmas this year. Actually, ever since that event, she hadn't felt like celebrating Christmas or any other holiday. Not even her own birthdays. It was as if all the excitement and anticipation had been sucked out of them. After all, what could possibly compare to the excitement and danger of the magical Labyrinth she'd left behind three years ago?

Sometimes, it felt like the whole adventure had only been a fantastic dream, but she knew it had really happened. She'd never forget how she had, in a fit of selfish anger, wished her baby brother to the Goblin King, and what had happened for the duration of the next thirteen hours. She wished she could forget the petty, spoiled child she'd been, demanding things she had no right to demand, trying to act like the adult she was far from being.

As brutal as his methods were, she had to admit that maybe Jareth had done her a favor by forcing her to face her inner child. He'd taught her a harsh lesson she might not have learned by any other means, and as a result, she'd gained new insight into her own psyche, along with a much-needed dose of maturity.

At the same time, she had come away from the game feeling as if part of her was missing. In exchange for this lesson in adulthood, Jareth had taken her innocence.

The crystal ballroom—designed to showcase all manner of voyeurism and sexual desire with a brutal honesty that had left her breathless and lightheaded—had been the setting to stir the curiosity of her young, untried heart. His alluring gaze had been the snare to catch and trap her. His honeyed, sensual voice had beguiled and charmed and beckoned the first stirrings of arousal until she'd almost melted into his arms, her mouth nearly aching for the foreign touch and taste of a man's lips.

Of his lips.

For a moment, she'd nearly allowed herself to give in to the overwhelming temptation, to the dark invitation glowing in the Goblin King's magical eyes. But reality had reasserted itself, and the dream had shattered around her, leaving her with nothing but mountains of dirt, debris, confusion, and very little time.

She sometimes felt like she could hate him for using her so thoughtlessly like that. But it had been his game, after all, and the only rules were his rules. He had only been doing what the villain was supposed to do, after all. Was it fair of her to blame him when all he'd done was play his assigned role?

Well, maybe not, but it was much easier to blame him for the way things had ended, rather than herself. She'd rather hate him than spend her time wondering what might have happened had the final confrontation turned out differently.

Toby would have been turned into a goblin, of course, she told herself sternly, and she'd still be trapped Underground, probably forever. She'd never been certain of what the rules pertaining to the loser's fate might have been, but it didn't matter anyway, did it? Allowing Toby to become a goblin was completely unacceptable.

She refused to let herself wonder if staying with Jareth would have been a terrible ordeal, if what she'd seen in his eyes during their dance was real. The ball itself had been a farce to make her lose track of herself and her time and her brother. But had the banked desire smoldering in his eyes been a farce, as well, or had it been truth as he'd seen fit to show her? After all, there were times when truth was more shocking than fiction, and it would certainly be in his nature to use both of them against her. The fact was, she would never know what had been real and what had not, and that was the end of it.

But no matter how often she insisted that it was better this way, the not-knowing, she had never quite managed to convince herself.