Disclaimer: I don't own Labyrinth or any of the characters associated with the Labyrinth.

AN: The heading is something I've thought about for a very long time.

Chapter 4: But What About Children from Madagascar or Kazakhstan or Japan?


"Sarah, shut up," he says, voice raised with a hint of agitation.

The jade eyed mortal gives him scorching look, "You've…you've kidnapped me!" She scuttles back on the bed, his bed, as he comes closer.

Controlling himself from snarling in anger, he slows his breathing down. "I shall take you back to your realm if you wish." He gives her a menacing look, "Stop. Shouting. You're beginning to take on the role of the ridiculous mortal in your story."

She seems to calm down a little. "Why did you bring me to your," she scans the room, wide eyed, "castle?"

He sighs. Why indeed. Perhaps because he is a fool. "I allowed you to catch up on some required sleep, Sarah—nothing more."

Her jade eyes light with liquid fire. "How generous of you!"

He almost gnashes his teeth and tells her that yes, it is indeed generous of him, but refrains himself from doing so. "I shall transport us back to your humble dwelling, Sarah—you've clearly gotten a very wrong impression of what I was trying to do." He notices the look of surprise in her eyes, "I would, however, like to request that you join me for lunch first."

She nods slowly, shrinking back when he smiles widely, predatory teeth in full view. She wonders if he realizes just how scary his smile is.

And just like that, they are sitting across from each other in a gazebo type structure in the middle of a beautiful garden. The table is full of various delicacies she does not recognize with some regular items like fresh bread rolls and green salad.

"I hope everything is to your liking." He plays the role of the courtly king well.

Filling her plate with salad, she offers him a small smile. "Everything looks great. I'd like to continue with your profile, if you're up to it," she says, hoping he is.

"Very well," his voice becomes very soft. "What else do you wish to know?"

"What do you do with the children who've been wished away?"

"Your book would have had this information Sarah," he says, his voice mockingly disapproving, "I turn them into goblins."

She frowns. "Sanjay says that's too morbid. We need you to get them adopted by families here."

A raised brow. "A very unfeasible solution, precious."

She nods in agreement, "My very first thought was 'but what about children from Madagascar or Kazakhstan or Japan?' but Sanj said Bessie Mays do not take into consideration those that are…different from them. Every Underground being looks like they could be a part of the Von Trapps and every child wished away would make an excellent extra for the Sound of Music." She takes a big bite of a delicious dish that is completely foreign to her.

"Fascinating." He sounds anything but fascinated. "I don't feel my answers have helped you all that much, precious…how else could I help you?" His sharp, dissecting gaze burns her skin.

Her utensils clatter on her plate as she suddenly stops eating. His voice has taken on a daring tone and she suddenly realizes that she is alone with him, in his realm. She laughs nervously, "Every answer helps!"

His gaze sharpens even more, as if he's trying to look into her very soul. "Really?" The mocking tone in his question clearly states that he does not believe her.

"Yes," she says brightly, "Let's get back to questions—what would make you fall in love with a less-than-stellar mortal?" She cannot come up with a synonym for less-than-stellar apart from loserific, but she does not think he would understand that term. "Please don't say 'innocence' or 'innocent but passionate demeanor' because that's just so fucking unbelievable and so fucking overdone."

He merely shrugs. "I wouldn't fall in love with a 'less-than-stellar mortal.'" A slow smile plays on his lips, "As I stated before, my answers do not seem to be helping you, at all. What shall we do for the rest of the week?"

Giving up, she sighs. He's correct—an immortal being would most definitely not be interested in a loserific mortal. The Goblin King in her story would be very different from the real Goblin King.

A slow smile. "Is there something you want from me, Sarah?"

Her breath hitches as she raises her eyes to meet his—the way he looks at her is intense enough to send a shiver up her spine. "Let's focus on your distraction techniques, especially the um, seductive techniques…"

"You assume I seduce the runners?"

She clicks her teeth. Yes, she wants to say. "Don't you?"

"Decidedly not, precious."

She supposes his three girlfriends keep him busy enough. "But what about that masquerade ball in the glass bubble?" That had most definitely been a devious technique meant to entrap her.

A toothy smile. "That was a dream specifically designed for you. But the clock was strategically placed so you had a reminder of time."

Well. She hadn't expected that answer. Finishing the rest of her meal quickly, she decides to save her questions for later.

He doesn't say anything further—content with just watching her eat.

She stands up the second she finishes her meal, "You have to send me back—I promised Elle I'd go for her friend's birthday dinner."

He looks at her silently, a teasing smile on his lips.

"Jareth, please." Her voice takes on a slightly anxious edge. "Send me back. I'll never hear the end of it if I'm late."

"Of course, darling girl, you don't believe I'd keep you here against your will. Do you?" His smile turns predatory when her eyes widen. "Oh, you do."

She takes a few deep breaths and calms herself down. "I never said that."

"Come on then," he says, extending a gloved hand, before she has the chance to say anything.


For the life of her, she cannot comprehend why the Goblin King would want to spend time with 20-something humans. "Are you sure you want to come tonight, you don't have to," she says, eyeing his outfit with approval—he's wearing slim fit indigo trousers with a tailored, off-white shirt, and casual leather loafers on his feet.

He gives her an appraising look—she wears a knee length, black and white dress, one with a white bodice and black, form fitting, skirt, paired with elegant stiletto boots. Her hair is loose. She's more of a distressed skinny jeans and silk top kind of girl, but the dinner is going to take place in a private room in an upscale hotel, so she's dressed up a little.

"I do. Unless you do not want me there, precious."

"I didn't mean it like that," she's quick to protest, "but I'd like to make a request."

He grins sharply. "Anything."

"Marc will most likely join us later…"

"So?"

"Try not making things uncomfortable for him, okay?"

Widening his unnerving eyes, he tries looking innocent. "Me? Never."

She rolls her eyes. "Let's go. I've called us an Uber."


"Sarah! You FINALLY made it!" Elle gives her a hug. "And so did YOU! Mr. hot model." She gives Jareth a hug as well, oblivious to his startled expression.

Sarah only knows a handful of people at the party. She walks up to the birthday boy, well, man, and gives him a hug. "Happy birthday Rez."

"Thanks Sarah. Glad you could make it." Rez looks at Jareth curiously, "You actually got a model? From Norway? I thought it was another one of Elle's ludicrous stories." He grabs two glasses of champagne off a tray for them.

"So she did." The Goblin King answers him, taking an elegant sip. "Happy birthday." He smiles.

Rez takes a step back. Something about this man gives him the creeps. "Thanks man. Please enjoy yourselves."

"CAFÉ PATRON SHOTS!" Elle seems to have appeared out of nowhere with a bunch of café patron shots in her hands.

The Goblin King raises a brow before downing one. He makes a face. "What was that?"

Sarah laughs. "Coffee flavored tequila." She glares at her roommate. "Café Patron is disgusting—I'm not taking that."

"More for me then." Elle downs two shots in the flash of a second. "I'm going to group hop," she says, leaving the two of them behind.

Looking at her buzzing phone, she types a quick message. It's her boss asking about the progress of her outline. In all of her haste to get ready, she forgot to email Sanj in the evening.

The Goblin King eyes all of the mortal youths enjoying themselves—their inhibitions lowered thanks to copious amounts of champagne and that vile drink, café patron. He can't help but think of the many, many wishes he could grant tonight.

"Hey Sarah." A wavy haired boy gives Sarah a hug, his hands lingering on the small of her back a little too long.

"Hey Marc." She hugs him back in a manner that's decidedly intimate. "Meet Jareth," she says quickly, "I'm supposed to use him as my model for that book I'm writing."

Marc turns his warm brown eyes to the Goblin King's icy gaze. "Hey Jareth."

"Hello Marc."

She groans at Jareth's frosty tone. "You got here directly from work?" she tries making some conversation.

He indicates the gray suit he has on and takes a sip of beer. "Yea." He turns to Jareth, "So, Elle tells me you're from a remote village in Norway; how do you like New York, Jareth?"

A shrug. "It's adequate."

She grits her teeth. Adequate? "Jareth's more of a forest person." She groans internally. That sounds ridiculous.

Marc's eyes light up with interest. "I would love to live in a more rural setting. But being in finance, I have no choice but to live here—if I want to climb up the ladder that is." He goes on, "the only finance positions in smaller places is being a manager in a local bank branch. I'd probably shoot myself if I ended up in that position." His phone buzzes. "Excuse me."

She glares at the Goblin King. "Why are you being so cold?"

Jareth gives an indifferent scoff. "Your Marc left you for his buzzing device."

She rolls her eyes. "He's not my Marc. And he's one of the most competitive and ambitious people I know—he's not going to skip work calls just because he's at a party."

A harshly curious look. "You admire him."

"I guess," she shrugs.

The Goblin King looks at her intensely for a few moments, his dual eyes as unnerving as ever. "I'll see you tomorrow morning, Sarah." That's all he says before disappearing into thin air.


AN: I will reply to the reviews as soon as I have the chance. Question to readers—has anyone else wondered just how the logistics behind 'Jareth sends the children to be adopted by Fae families' work?

Edited to Add: 'Sort of boyfriend' means they've started dating, but they're not serious or exclusive.

I wanted to make Sarah's sort of boyfriend a nice guy—most fics pair her with douche bags or abusive alcoholics. Same with Jareth—his lovers are shown as moronic jealous bitches. I'd like to believe that the GK would have better taste.