DISCLAIMER: We don't own Labyrinth or any of the characters associated with the film. They are the property of the Jim Henson Company. We do, however, torture them with ridiculous plotlines from time to time.
AN: Sorry for the long delay in between postings. One of us has been obsessing over POTC and neglecting Labyrinth, while the other...actually has a life. sobs
Jareth sat up from his relaxed position suddenly, sputtering, "What?"
Sarah glanced back at him over her shoulder and raised her eyebrows in confirmation. "I. Don't. Like. Sex." She paused for a moment in thought and made a face of pure disgust, "In fact, I hate it."
This was all the explanation Jareth needed to leap from the bed and circle her predatorily. He peered at her, his hand resting on his chin, as though inspecting a particular piece of art. He stopped in front of her and Sarah raised her eyes to his warily.
"There's nothing wrong with you!" he exclaimed.
Sarah frowned fiercely, "Of course there isn't!"
"But, how can you not like sex?" He asked the question with a strong note of disbelief, his tongue lingering lovingly on the last word.
Sarah shrugged absently. "I just don't, okay?"
"No! No, not okay at all!" Jareth couldn't help staring at her with thoughtful eyes, completely incredulous of her situation. Sarah frowned even further. At long length Jareth shrugged in defeat. "You must be doing it wrong."
"I have not been," Sarah spat through gritted teeth.
"Then the men you've been with have been."
Sarah rolled her eyes at him and stared into the void once more. Jareth refused to move from his present position in front of her, so she found that instead of seeing the void before her eyes, she saw the area. She looked away abruptly and swivelled her chair. "I just don't like it," she muttered.
Jareth would not take this as an answer. He couldn't understand her way of thinking at all. How was it possible for Sarah, of all people, not to like sex? He could see the passion burning beneath her carefully cold exterior, so why had she condemned herself to a life abstinence?
"No," he said, moving in front of her once again. "I don't believe it. You must like sex."
"I assure you, I don't," she said with a resigned sigh. Jareth dropped into a squat before her so that he could see her eyes as he spoke.
"You don't find it pleasurable?" he asked, with concerned but intense eyes.
Sarah found it difficult to think straight with him looking at her like that. Her overactive imagination was already resorting to the bed behind them; to tearing off a white poet's shirt; to running her fingers through long platinum locks. Dirty! She reminded herself abruptly. Dirty, dirty, dirty! If you do that, then it's all sweat and sloppy bodily fluids. It leads to unnecessary showers. Her mind quickly devolved into continuous showers – with the Goblin King in attendance.
She then debated briefly on the possibility of sex in the shower. It really killed two birds with one stone. Eliminated the dirtiness factor. A state of constant cleanliness. Constant cleanliness and slippery skin against skin contact combined with tiny droplets of warm water sliding down…. She closed her eyes briefly lost in the fantasy – until she heard a slight popping sound. Her eyes flew open to discover that Jareth had already turned his head in the direction of the sound. The cause of the sound? A shower, large enough for two, in the corner of the void. Her eyes grew wide in embarrassed surprise and her mouth formed a perfect 'O'. Jareth turned back to her, one eyebrow raised, his lips curling into a cruel smirk.
"I…I didn't…" she protested uselessly.
Jareth licked his lips and grinned. "You 'hate' sex, do you? Then why are you thinking so hard about such a large shower?"
He walked over and inspected the addition even closer. Sarah closed her eyes so she wouldn't see his form so close to the manifestation of her secret fantasy. "Hmm, a textured floor, and handholds throughout, lots of room to move . . ." he turned the tap, and the water hissed out of the showerhead, "automatically the right temperature. Oh, and even some scented shower gel." He left the water to create steam, and carried the bottle over the Sarah. We wafted it under her nose. "Sandalwood." He murmured, watching her jerk her head away.
He chuckled, then said "But there's something missing here . . . or else something that we have too much of."
He began to concentrate. There was another popping noise, then Sarah gasped as a sudden chill swept over her. Looking down, she discovered that she was no longer in her daily uniform of jeans and a t-shirt, but rather in a silk robe that gaped open to her navel, and stopped dangerously short along her thighs. As she struggled to wrap it closer around her, she heard Jareth's luxuriating sigh, and cut her eyes to him. He stood there in silk pyjama pants. And, nothing else.
Jareth could feel himself getting harder as he trailed his gaze over her long legs, over her round hips, catching a glimpse of her breast just before she tugged the robe closer together. He almost groaned aloud as his silk pants floated around his arousal, feeling as he suspected her skin would feel. If she would finally let him near her…
He had been shocked that Sarah claimed not to like sex, but had a suspicion as to her reluctance when the shower popped into view. She had had mediocre experiences – he placed the blame exclusively upon her former lovers – but had replaced her disenchantment with disgust for the more physical and less romantic aspects of the act. He closed in on her, and stood behind her stiffened back. He'd play it her way – for now.
"My dear Sarah," he purred, "what a wonderful idea. We'll take a shower" he slid the robe off her shoulder, "I'll soap you up," he dropped a kiss on the curve where her neck met her shoulder, "I'll rinse you off," he massaged little circles along the back of her neck, "then I'll get you off," he whispered into her ear, enjoying her gasp – and the view down her freshly loosen robe – "and the whole time, you'll be clean as a whistle."
Sarah's breaths came in small pants as she fought his seduction. Her hands kept clenching the edges of her robe, her face was flushed, and she was squirming on her chair.
Jareth grinned, then wrapped his arms around her from behind, spreading his hand wide over her belly, and pressing gently. He whispered into her ear again – "I can make you enjoy sex, again Sarah. Nice clean sex. And you'll like it so much, you'll want to try it again. But dirtier."
Sarah tried to jerk away, but the castors on her chair meant that Jareth could pull her right back into his arms with barely any effort. He grinned again, and let one hand play with the belt of her robe, slowly loosening it. "I can make you come in the shower, Sarah." He watched the movement of her throat as she swallowed nervously. "I dare you to let me." He saw the fire in her eyes flare at that moment.
