Disclaimer: You know I don't own Labyrinth or any of it's characters. The other ones I made up, but I don't guess I legally own them, either.

Chapter One: Pretending to Love

"Why are you looking at me like that?" Sarah asked with a laugh, glancing up from her book to see Carson watching her with a glint in his honey brown eyes. Sitting sideways on the couch, she could see his head turn when he glanced at her. She ran one hand through her hair, letting it fall behind the arm of the sofa.

"Why wouldn't I be?" Carson countered, and she laughed again. He smiled at the look on her face as she returned to her book and wondered why she didn't close it and watch the television instead—it sat right in front of the couch they were on, showing, he was sure—on some channel or another—the exact same thing she was reading. He watched her a moment longer, the same shine in his eyes. However, he knew now that he wouldn't get anything for it. It was so rare that he did, anyway.

Babysitting with her was one of the dullest activities he regularly participated in. His parents liked her, or else he wouldn't be allowed to invite her over when they went out. They were right to allow it—when his sister was awake, Sarah read to her. When she was asleep, Sarah read to herself. When it stormed, Sarah sat in the little girl's room and read. She jumped and sometimes screamed anytime Carson came in or made a slight noise somewhere else in the house. Something about thunderstorms really got to her, and even worse when they caused the power to go out.

"So… what's the book about?" He asked awkwardly. Sarah slowly snapped back to reality, with a slightly annoyed look, and sat down the thin paperback.

"Fairies," she responded softly, and, when he didn't say anything more, picked it up again. Carson was frustrated, and only getting more so. He remembered the times he snuck Jenna over while his parents were out—reading had been the last thing on her mind. Sarah didn't know about that. Maybe keeping it from her had been a mistake—she might not know what he expected of her. She had never even allowed him to get close to the things he and Jenna had done, usually with the rough fibers of the couch beneath them, sometimes the softer fabrics of his or his parents' bed.

Those thoughts were only making it worse.

"Sarah," he began softly, pulling the book from her hands and dropping it to the ivory-colored carpet. Instead of looking up at him, as he expected, her dark eyes followed it to the floor. "Sarah," he said again, with a false tenderness. Her face turned towards his and he leaned down. Her hands on his chest stopped him just inches away from her lips.

"Carson, not now," she said.

"Why not, baby?" He asked. Terms of endearment usually did the trick when he got stuck with a girl.

"I was reading. And Lydia's just down the hall—what if she wakes up?"

"She won't wake up. It's past eleven," he whispered, trying to move forward again. Her hands still caught him. He could push them out of the way and kiss her anyway, but that would just make her angry. He didn't want her angry—he wanted her willing, eager, naked….

He paused, still leaning over her, not sure what to do. Sarah had originally just been a random fling for him, another girl to fuck and forget. She was pretty, but he wouldn't call her beautiful. Her body was nice, but he wouldn't call it hot. They'd been together for four months, and still she hadn't let him get past the first button on her blouse. He kept assuming it would happen soon; she'd just come over, take off her clothes and spread her legs.

It wasn't happening.

"Please, Sarah, you're driving me crazy," he whispered, filling his voice with lust. She looked a little shocked, as if she was just realizing what he wanted.

"No," she said. The firmness in her voice was like a spark on the gasoline.

"Why the fucking hell not?" Carson raged, jumping off the couch—mostly to gain intimidation from towering over her. Sarah visibly faltered. She hadn't expected something like that. She had told him no before, and he should know that she still wasn't ready.

"Because I don't want to!" She yelled up at him, using her first opportunity to reach for her book on the floor. She regretted having to leave it there for so long. She felt like she had betrayed it just by letting him take it from her.

"Well I do, damn it!" Carson watched her with a look that suddenly made her absolutely terrified. He's going to rape me—the thought echoed through her panicked mind.

"You wouldn't…" she began, then stopped. Putting a brave face on would neither fool him nor stop him. Ignorant as he seemed to be, she knew he knew her better than that.

"I might. I get what I want Sarah, and I've wasted too much goddamn time on you," he spat at her as she pulled her knees against her chest and clutched her fairy tale to her calves. Thoughts began rushing through her, plans to stop him, get away from him, kill him if she had to. None of them seemed good enough as he tore the book from her hands and heaved it across the room. It struck the wall, causing no more than a soft thump.

"No, no, no, no," Sarah pleaded as he grabbed her arms, still locked tightly around her legs, and pulled her onto the floor. She hit it with a sound similar to that of the book on the wall, she thought, or maybe everything was just running together in her head. She fought to stay curled in her fetal position.

"Yes," Carson's voice dripped satisfaction as he pulled her thin arms off her legs and thrust them behind her back as he worked on getting her knees away from her chest.

"Don't, please don't. You can't!" Sarah muttered, her eyes shut tightly.

"And why not," Carson held her down with the weight of his body as he pushed his mouth against hers. She looked, he thought, more attractive than she ever had before, with her dark, silky hair spread out around her and her mouth slightly open in fear.

"He won't let you!" Sarah suddenly screamed into his mouth, her eyes flying open. "I wish the Goblins would come take Lydia away! Right now!"

Surprised by the sudden outburst, Carson froze. He paused for a moment longer, trying to figure out what she was talking about. Goblins? And how did his little sister get into this? Maybe I've pushed her over the edge, he thought, with no trace of guilt.

Sarah, however, felt guilty. She had just wished his little sister away. She liked Lydia—the adorable little girl was always eager for Sarah to read to her. It was the only thing she could think of to make Carson stop—surely he wouldn't rape her as the Goblin King watched idly from a few feet away. Maybe Jareth wouldn't let him, even if he tried. He didn't like Sarah at all, but she would have to run his labyrinth again, wouldn't she? If he was real, that is… She wished she could've wished Carson away instead, but he was no child, and the Goblin King only took children.

"I'm an awful person," Sarah whispered to herself, confident that Carson wasn't listening to her.

Finally deciding to ignore it like her other protests, Carson reached under his body for the button on her jeans. He jumped as much as she did when the house shook with a deep rumble of thunder, and the heavy sound of raindrops smacking the windows came seconds later. But an unexpected thunderstorm wouldn't stop him—he undid the button and the zipper, and began wiggling her jeans past her hips. She had given up her protests, now. She lay silently on the floor, pressing the palms of her hands into her eyes.

"Here we go," Carson leaned down and whispered into her ear, as he tossed her jeans to the side and ripped her shirt open. The buttons flew across the room—he shouldn't have done that. He would have to find them all before his parents got home.

Carson paused just above her breasts, covered only by the thin cups of her bra, as scurrying sounds and giggles filled the room. Sarah let out an ear-splitting, triumphant scream. Loud noises like that seemed odd coming from such a shy, quiet girl like her, but Sarah could hardly believe it. In the moments since she had said the words, she had become increasingly sure that it wouldn't happen and what had happened the last time she said them had been only a dream.

"What was that?" He choked out as the lights went off. He felt his erection disappear—he was too afraid for that. He moved into a sitting position, leaving Sarah lying on the floor.

"The Goblins," Sarah whispered back, sounding hopeful. He hadn't expected a reply.

"Shut up," he muttered back to her, trying to determine where the scratching noises were coming from as the front door burst open and the shrieks of an owl filled the cold air.

Then the Goblin King was there, standing only a few feet above Sarah, looking down at Carson with contempt evident in his mismatched eyes.

Sarah's hands moved away from her eyes and she stared at the figure standing behind her. Even upside down, he was intimidating, formidible. And now she would be returning to the Underground--returning to his world.