Four Goblins and a troupe of performing chickens visit Sarah one Saturday night. Her company quickly multiplies in number and descends into merry mayhem. Sarah has to think on her feet to stop the madness from destroying the entire neighbourhood.

A/N: This is a Sidefic to my current epic work in progress, The More Things Change. I loved this idea and felt that it would work better as a standalone oneshot, rather than trying to incorporate this scene into the storyline. I like to keep things moving in a longer story, y'know? Anyway, continuity wise it fits into the first quarter of chapter four. Hope you enjoy!

Pfft. Fizzle. Poof! Pop! Pop! Crack!

Goblins. So many goblins. Oh God, they were appearing all over the house. Dozens of them, all calling and howling varying cries of "Sarah! Lady! Lady Lady Lady! Tell us a story! Oh pleeaaaase tell us!" And they were trashing the place in a spectacular fashion. Lamps knocked over, couches clawed open, her step mother's antique crockery set reduced to splintered ex-Frisbees, and the air was full of feathers. Not to mention the squawks of surprised performing chickens belonging to one Frogmorton the Fabulous…who were taking unwelcome flying lessons from the upstairs landing. Puck was nowhere to be seen, probably holding out with his dignified outrage underneath her dressing table. Oh lordy, she was going to die when her dad and Irene got home.

It had started off as a rather cute display of enthusiasm from her former story-time enthusiasts: Quoket, Choom, and Murk. They had appeared with another goblin and half a dozen chickens wearing tiny hats in the hall while Sarah had been in the kitchen, procrastibaking and frosting dozens of cupcakes (much to her three year old brother's delight and her cat's interest). Jareth had once again allowed the Goblins to visit and they had decided to celebrate by bringing Frogmorton the Fantastic's Fine Feathered Performing Arts Chicken Spectacular to Sarah's house while her family were out. Sarah had been a little unsure about the chickens, but Frogmorton had assured her that they were highly trained and would do her home no disrespect as they stood in the downstairs hall.

"Don't worry Lady," he croaked out, "These is the best trained chickens in the Underealm. They hasn't caused a single accident in at least a month."

"I am going to need a moment to think about this, wait here." Sarah took the opportunity to take the last batch of cupcakes out of the oven, and to carefully pack the most recently iced ones into containers on the kitchen bench. A month? Well, they're only here for a short amount of time. They shouldn't be too much of a hassle. Sarah put the last of the cupcakes on the cooling rack, returned to the goblins in the hall and gave her permission.

Her instincts had proven correct, at least for a while. The chickens were indeed well behaved. They waddled around in the hallway and lounge room placidly, clucking softly to each other when they came across a crumb on the floor. Their performance was also spectacular – Frogmorton was not wrong when he had mentioned their surprising ability with batons and hula hoops. The whole performance was accompanied by Choom's singing, much to the other goblins' displeasure. (As far as goblin singing was concerned, Choom was not that bad a vocalist. Perhaps this was why the other goblins hated when he took the opportunity to show off his skills.)

Sarah laughed and cheered at the chickens' feats of grace and agility, and gave them a standing ovation at the end of their performance. "Bravo, Brava! Well done, my fine feathered friends, and my dearest goblins! I do believe, Quoket," she turned to her side to the apron clad creature with a smile, "That this deserves a lovely story –"

"No, lady! Shhh! Don't say it! Not in front of Frogmorton!" cried Quoket and Murk interchangeably, with horror stricken eyes, but it was too late. Frogmorton had heard.

"Did you say story, Lady Sarah?" Frogmorton's eyes glimmered. "Goblins loves stories! The lady has a story for the goblins! Time to tell the others! We will have ale and chicken tossing and –"

"Noooo!" cried Murk, his colander and feather hat clamouring as he flailed, trying to get a hold of Frogmorton. But it didn't stop the latter goblin from poofing away.

Meanwhile, Sarah had fluctuated between varying shades of green, pink and grey.

"Festive Lady," pondered Quoket aloud, forgetting the terrible situation at hand. Toby giggled at his sister's funny looking face.

"What…did I just get myself into?" Sarah asked her little brother, recovering her ability to speak coherently.

"Sawah tell stowy…lots of fun, lots of goblins!" Toby clapped his hands.

Choom sighed and looked up mournfully into Sarah's eyes, stroking a nearby chicken with his long, knobbly fingers. "Frogmorton has gone to tell other goblins that Lady wants to tell stories. Then he's bringing the ale and the other chickens and…" fear truly had washed into Choom's expression by now, "The Firey Toe!"

"Oh, Noooo!" wailed Quoket. Murk went silent with horror. Sarah wondered with dread what the hell that actually meant. She assumed the worst and started to round up the chickens.

"Well, off you go then. I wish you would stop Frogmorton, right now." she tried, a chicken under each arm. She watched expectantly for the goblins to poof away and return half an hour later with news of dragging Frogmorton to an oubliette and leaving him there.

But… they didn't move. They just stared mournfully back up at her. "Too late, lady…" whispered Murk unnervingly. A moment later, Frogmorton reappeared with half a dozen other goblins. Sarah put the chickens back down.

Vvt! Pff! Zip! Pop!

"Hello Lady!"

"Oh hey, it's Lady Sarah!"

"Laaaadyyyy –"

The goblins chorused their greetings and salutations as they each noticed Sarah. Six goblins? That didn't seem so bad. Sarah took a deep breath and began to calmly ask them to sit down quietly while she told them a story. She was, however, interrupted by a loud BANG in the living room. Sarah ran to see what had caused the noise.

As she rounded the corner, Sarah was greeted with the sight of eight more goblins…and a large wooden keg, haphazardly arranged on the coffee table. The vase that had sat there previously was nowhere to be seen…but the flowers once contained by it were being munched by a goat.

"What in the name of all that is holy is going on here?" the goat looked up with a vague expression for a moment before going back to the focussed business of chewing.

The trip-trap of small goblin feet caught up with her, and the majority of the first ten goblins merged with those in the living room. Some started to sing terribly, pulling tankards out of nowhere to be filled with the now freely flowing (onto the carpet!) goblin ale. "They's here for your stories, Lady Sarah," whispered Quoket who was now looking quite fretful.

"My stories?"

"Yes, most goblins likes to drinks and sing when a story teller tells stories." Murk chimed in, "So Froggy went to get the ale. But Froggy always tells! He always tells everyone everything cause he's so proud of himselfs. So now… maybe lots of goblinses is coming to hear your special Lady stories."

"Oh. Oh dear."

"Yes, very oh dear, lady. Very oh dear indeed…" Quoket held her face as she commiserated with Sarah. She was a funny goblin, unusually invested in cleanliness for her kind. Some said it was because she was raised by a dwarf, but her friends knew that it was just because she was Quoket and nothing more. Quoket sniffed and added mournfully, "And even more goblins coming, too…"

Quoket busied herself, trying to mop up the spilled ale with the apron she wore as a cloak while Sarah hurriedly hid as many valuables as possible.

Pop! Ffft! Crack! Zzzp!

"We's here for stories and ale with lady! Where is lady?"

Sarah had the fortitude to close off the kitchen before any of the goblins made their way there, and spent another minute running around, closing other rooms off to their access. As she closed her own bedroom, she encountered a highly displeased Puck who darted in between her legs and into the dark sanctuary before the door completely shut. Sarah made her way downstairs as more goblins appeared.

The new arrivals, over a dozen of them, were quickly distracted by the large keg of ale. A squeal was heard out in the hallway, followed by several more. Sarah dreaded what she would find as she took herself back out there to find out what was going on. She rounded the corner to find Frogmorton the Fabulous chasing his fellow goblins around and cackling, a bony, fuzzy red stick in his hand – oh. That must be the Firey Toe. Sarah watched as he poked a goblin that let him get too close, and to her horror, the creature caught fire! It squealed and batted at the tiny licks of flame til they were all out. Then it started trying to take the Firey Toe off of Frogmorton, joining in his cackles. Frogmorton tripped over his own feet in the hall and the Firey Toe made contact with the hallway runner. It promptly caught fire, much to the delight of nearby goblins. No wonder the Goblin King lives in a place built entirely out of stone, Sarah thought. Thinking fast, she ran and grabbed the fire extinguisher which made its home by the fireplace in the living room, promptly returned and foamed the spot fire. She breathed a sigh of relief.

Crash!

Bedlam. Total bedlam. The goblins, now in varying stages of inebriation and singing at the top of their lungs, were flinging the contents of the china cabinet in the dining room about in time with a garish drinking song. Still others were dancing and swinging on the staircase and its banister, while several flung various chickens from the top landing. "Freeee Styyyyle Chicken Competitiooooon!" one screeched. More came to join it and the group took to creatively tossing chickens into the air, much to the delight of those trying to catch them below.

Sarah put out several more spot fires thanks to Frogmorton and his Firey Toe before she came to the end of her tether. Something deep inside her welled up and she shouted, "Enough!"

The word reverberated inside the skulls of the goblins, who suddenly quieted. It was an eerie scene to behold – statue still goblins, looks of varying levels of shock and glazedness on their faces, staring at Sarah as masses of feathers floated silently and gracefully to the ground. The living room, dining room and hallway were trashed. Sarah was having no more of their shenanigans in her family's home.

"This may be acceptable in your King's castle, but it is most certainly NOT in my family's! You will take your chickens, your ale, and your Firey Toes, and you will leave! No stories tonight!"

The stunned looks on the goblin faces remained a second more. Then, as if nothing unusual had happened, they goblins smiled and yelled over the top of each other. "Okay, lady! Bye Lady!"

Within a minute, Sarah was left in the room by herself with three goblins. Murk and Choom looked positively relieved, while Frogmorton looked completely shamefaced.

"Frogmorton, you must never do that again," admonished Sarah.

"Yes, lady."

"You may come and visit with the others, but don't ever – wait, where's Toby?" Sarah felt panic rising in her like bile. Less than a second later, she heard the fvvt of creatures appearing behind her. She whirled around to see Quoket and… oh no. The Goblin King. Holding her little brother!

Toby giggled and patty-caked the sides of the King's face, and he smiled back at the young boy. Something about the Fae's expression warmed a currently ignored portion of Sarah's heart.

"Hello, Sarah. I seem to have someone you may have been looking for here with me." Jareth smiled at Toby as the small boy babbled about goblins. The king then turned his face back and looked kindly on Sarah. His gazed travelled over her slowly and she blushed as she realised how much of a mess she must look. He arched an eyebrow as he stepped closer, the boy still in his arms. Sarah eyed the king cautiously as he approached. "Don't worry, dearest. He has come to no harm. Quoket here brought him to me and told me of your… unfortunate… situation. The throne room had been blissfully quiet for over half an hour, I should have known something was going on." The twinkle manifesting itself in his eye suggested that he did, but conveniently ignored it in favour of a little piece on his and the dwarves' part. "I had planned to come and bog the lot of them, the nuisance making wretches…but you appear to have cleared them off quite successfully yourself."

"I had no idea goblins could be so obedient," Sarah responded off-handedly, still feeling quite self conscious. The Goblin King was inside her personal space bubble. She tucked an errant strand of her dishevelled hair behind her own ear and reached for Toby. Sarah breathed a sigh of relief when the capricious Fae regent handed the child over without complaint.

"Usually, they're not. For some reason they thought listening to you was a good idea, though." Jareth smirked. He'd seen the last minute of the ordeal through a crystal with Toby on his knee in the unusually quiet throne room. He had wondered since the ordeal a month ago if indeed Sarah had used something more than her natural boldness to intimidate the Bolg, and just now he had witnessed confirmation of his suspicions. Right words, indeed. "Well, precious. It was lovely to see you again. I do hope to cross paths once more, soon." The Goblin King smiled, oozing charm and seductiveness, and began to walk towards an open window.

Sarah looked around the room and out into the hall with dread. The curtains were torn, a massive keg sat on the coffee table, oozing foul goblin ale onto it and into the carpet below. The lounge chairs were stained and shredded, the goat now calmly eating the stuffing of a cushion. Shattered pottery lay around the place, and burn marks from the spot fires marred most flammable objects and surfaces. Up on the ceiling were three tiny, mangled performing chicken hats, stuck with who-knows-what… Possibly egg yolk. Sarah stifled a hopeless sob as she shifted Toby to sit on her hip. The amount of devastation would take weeks for her to clean up, and her father and step mother were due home in mere hours.

Jareth turned at the faint sound of Sarah's distress. "Oh, how could I forget?" He asked rhetorically, "Here, a little gift to thank you for that blissful half hour of peace." With one swift motion he summoned a crystal. In his fingers she watched it become two, then three, and finally four. They floated up and around the room, before each floated to a space of its own. Sarah watched in wonder and Toby cheered in admiration as the crystal orbs expanded and then burst, covering the room in a fine shimmering mist. Sarah creased her eyes shut out of reflex and when she opened them the entire house was clean. Even the goat was gone! Her relieved, joyous smile was worth more than all the diamonds in the Aboveground World to Jareth.

Without thinking much about it, Sarah put Toby down on the now restored loveseat and rushed to wrap her arms around the Goblin King in gratitude! "Thank you," she gushed tears of relief threatening to escape. Jareth was thrilled with the response and wasted no time encircling the young woman in his arms, murmuring how welcome she was. Gently, reverently, he kissed the top of her head and rested his cheek there as they stood, comfortable in each others' arms for a brief eternity of minutes.

The spell was broken when Sarah heard movement from the kitchen. She let go of Jareth and, without looking at him, rushed off to investigate. Not the cupcakes, she thought desperately. She opened the now ajar kitchen door and discovered a shamefaced Frogmorton, frosting smeared all over his face and down his tatty little vest.

Jareth had been hot on Sarah's heels and walked in to see her staring furiously at the grubby little goblin. "What, do you think you are DOING with Lady Sarah's cupcackes?" The King asked, the full breadth of his regality oozing out of him as he prepared to deal justice.

Frogmorton noticed and began the grovelling process. "Please, Kingy! I has chickens to feeds, and they eats everything, I never gets to have cuppy cakes."

Sarah sighed. "If you'd asked, I'd have given you one," she said with a disappointed tone. "Froggy, why did you have to be such a naughty goblin tonight?"

"Ah, so this was the instigator?" Jareth enquired, looking archly over to Sarah. Sarah nodded gravely, a stern look in her eyes directed at the naughty goblin. Jareth frowned with a mischievous glint in his eye. After a beat of the dishevelled Frogmorton quaking in his too-big boots, Jareth simply proclaimed, "Bog." And off went Frogmorton with a bewildered look on his face.

The pair burst out laughing heartily, and continued to do so for over a minute. As their guffaws subsided, Sarah wiped away a tear of mirth. "Thank you, your majesty, for everything."

The King smiled and reached out to embrace the young woman, who happily reciprocated the gesture. After another few minutes of beautiful embrace, the king stepped away and looked down at Sarah. "Good night, my precious one," he murmured with a seductive smile, and vanished before he could see the full effect of the blush he caused on her cheeks.

"Well," Sarah said to the remaining three Goblins and Toby, "Who wants to hear the tale of the Great Chicken Apocalypse while we eat some cupcakes?" She was met with cheers and gurgles of joy. There she sat for the next half an hour, weaving a tale of adventure and mystery to her enamoured audience of four.

Irene and her husband came home soon after Toby was settled and the last goblins had left, and were none the wiser about the shenanigans. Though Irene did wonder as to where her flowers had disappeared; and what on earth the three tiny hats on the mantelpiece were from.

Sarah slept soundly that night, without a single nightmare.

A/N: So there you go! I'd love to hear what you think. Also, feel free to check out the main fic this story was borne out of, The More Things Change.