AUTHOR'S NOTE: As always, many many thanks for your reviews! They were all exceedingly entertaining and rather inspirational. Free hula goblin for all of you. I'm sorry that this update was a little slow coming—this chapter contains mush and love and I'm just not built to write mush and love. In fact, it turns out that I'm only built to write about transvestite goblins and chicken fights. My range as a writer is frighteningly limited.

FaeriesMidwife: Don't print this out. It's too long. If you take it into the bath with you, its weight will probably drag you down (Death! Angst!). I don't want you to drown, it would be a great loss.

AriaAlways: I didn't forget about Squibble—thanks for naming him! Here is his big scene.

Doro.neko: I would love it if the goblins would make a music video of 'Chicken fell out of the tower and straight into my heart'. I'd like them to do a rap remix so that the music video could have the goblins driving one of those bouncing cars (you know, like the ones on Pimp My Ride) through the Labyrinth ghettos, wearing sunglasses and lots of bling. Skeep would look great in bling…

LDeetz: I love the idea of a love triangle between the Sarah and Jareth figurines and Skeep's rubber duck. Though I could have sworn that I saw that exact same storyline on The Bold and the Beautiful.

Disclaimer: I don't own the Labyrinth. Nor do I own pro-wrestlers. I have a friend who is training to become a pro-wrestler and every now and then I get rather distracted by his muscles. I also do not own, nor have I recently contracted, leprosy. Last week, I thought I was developing scurvy after I realized that it had been over a month since I ate any citrus fruit. But I solved that problem by eating lots of orange and yellow Skittles.


Chapter 9: Everything I've done, I've done for you. Or why you should never let your inner voice have access to your credit card.

Sarah's inner voice was on a rampage. Buoyed by the hormonal tsunami that followed the adult-type touching dream with Jareth, Sarah's inner voice was attempting to take over her body and mind in various manipulative ways, all in the name of promoting her relationship with the King. Unfortunately, Sarah's attempts to foil her inner voice were not as successful as usual. In fact, when Sarah had tried to summon the rabid piranhas to bring her inner voice back under control, she found that the inner voice had poured a large quantity of vodka into the piranhas' moat, leading the piranhas to lose their desire to kill while simultaneously acquiring a desire to party. It was most distressing.

The extent of the inner voice's growing influence over Sarah became apparent when she went shopping to find a birthday present for Karen. It must be said that Sarah was not particularly focused on her task. Truth be told, she was merely wandering aimlessly around the store, thinking about What Will Happen Next when it came to her relationship with Jareth. Now, Sarah was more than aware of the fact that there were always potential pitfalls when becoming romantically involved with someone. But there seemed to be more potential pitfalls than usual when becoming romantically involved with Jareth. Nothing had prepared her for this situation, not even reading all those fairytales as a child. After all, storybook princesses ended up happily-ever-after with rather bland princes, not arrogant, seductive, chicken-tossing, perverted clothes-wearing, bog-dipping kings. In her romantic history to date, she had never gone out with a man who treated her like a fairytale princess one moment, and then threw her in front of the cleaners the next. To top it all off, she realized that she still did not know all that much about Jareth. In fact, she was still not even sure what he was. She had always known him as the Goblin King but what exactly was he? Mythical creature? Fae? God? Goblin? Beast? Magician? Man?

I think we answered the 'is he a man?' question once and for all last night when he pinned you onto the bed and you could feel …

Sarah interrupted quickly, blushing. "Yes, yes, I was there, remember?"

In fact, if we want to get specific, he is quite the man…

"Enough! I get it!" thought Sarah furiously. "Anatomically at least, he is a man…"

Quite the man, the voice corrected.

Sarah ignored that. She sighed. "So how is this going to work between us? He lives in another realm."

The voice waved its hand dismissively. Think of it as a long-distance relationship.

Sarah snorted. "And how do I introduce him to my friends and family? How do I explain his baby-taking tendencies?"

Say that he works in 'acquisitions'. Then sound suitably vague when they ask about what he acquires.

Sarah groaned.

Sarah, the voice said quite seriously, do you want him out of your life?

At the mere suggestion, Sarah felt as though she had suddenly swallowed a handful of splintered glass.

The inner voice continued mercilessly. Because last night, even though you were technically in the right, you rejected him. Again. And I have a strong feeling that if you reject him one more time, you are going to break him. Again. And then he will disappear forever and you will be forced to date aspiring actors with wandering hands, or acne-encrusted youths with dubious personal hygiene, or…heaven forbid…accountants with moustaches. And after seeing Jareth in all his bare-chested, seductive glory last night, dating any other man would be like drinking bog water after tasting fine vintage champagne.

Sarah closed her eyes and groaned. "You're right," she said, resigned.

The voice nodded smugly. Of course I am. The inner voice patted Sarah on the back consolingly. Look, it's never easy to start a relationship. And sure, starting a relationship with a guy who turns into an owl, who takes children and goats when the opportunity arises, and who wears more eye-makeup on a daily basis than you did on prom night, may present more challenges than you've usually faced. But really, your will is strong, your kingdom is great, you've got an iron skillet, a college education, and a killer body that he can't keep his eyes off when he thinks you aren't looking. Babe, you're as ready as you are ever going to be to face Jareth.

Sarah squared her shoulders. The voice was right, she was ready. She wanted this, she really should not be scared. "Thanks," she said to the voice.

The inner voice shrugged. Anytime. Now, if you need me, I'll be sitting on the couch here, picturing Jareth naked.

Shaking her head, Sarah looked around and realized that she was standing outside of the mall. Odd. She could not remember actually leaving the store. She looked down and noticed that she was carrying a large pink shopping bag. Odder still. She opened the bag curiously and found that it contained lingerie. Lots and lots of lingerie. She noticed a receipt, so she didn't shoplift the lingerie, but for the life of her, she just could not remember purchasing any of the items.

Sarah curiously rifled through the bag a little more thoroughly. Hidden amongst several rather charming lace and satin pieces, she noticed a few items that would have made a seasoned courtesan blush. In fact, there were items in that bag that would have been more at home in a bordello than in Sarah's underwear drawer. Sarah pulled out two of the bordello items—a concoction that consisted of a scrap of black lace and a few satin ribbons, and one that had…oh hell, were those tassels?—and she blushed furiously, stuffing them back into the bag as quickly as possible. Looking up, she noticed two sweet-faced little old women sitting on a bench, sipping coffee and smiling at her. One of them gave her a thumbs up. Sarah blushed and rushed out to the parking lot. She quickly located her car, unlocked it, and sat inside.

"Ok," she said, trying to hold onto her temper, "how did the entire contents of the lingerie department make its way into my shopping bag?"

You can thank me for it later, the inner voice said smugly.

"Thank you for what? Trying to make me look like a Vegas stripper? What do you think you are doing?!" Sarah said furiously. She blushed again just thinking about the tassels.

The inner voice waved its hand dismissively. Look, you are about to embark on a positive frenzy of adult-type touching with a ludicrously sensual man who seems to have a fetish for perverted clothing, leather, and riding crops. All I'm saying is that you may have to become a little more open minded….

Sarah scowled. "In last night's dream, he dressed me in something demure and elegant."

The inner voice snorted. I bet you ten bucks that in his other dreams of you, you're wearing the outfit with the tassels that's in that bag.

"Not the tassels!" Sarah groaned and closed her eyes.

Don't worry, the inner voice said cheerfully, I bought something for every possible mood and occasion. You're bound to like at least one of the items.

Sarah reluctantly looked inside the bag. She had to admit there were some lovely pieces. And some that were so harlot-y that they made her speechless in horror. She winced when she spied what looked like a leather corset. "I don't think I have the courage to take the bordello items back to the store."

The inner voice smiled smugly. I was counting on that.

Sarah quickly put the bag in the backseat. "Look," she said briskly, "I need to go to a grocery store to buy Jareth's fabric softener and more ice-cream. If later today I mysteriously find myself in the parking lot with another bag full of perverted purchases, any new exotic body piercings, or Jareth forever tattooed anywhere on my body, then I swear I will drive to the nearest psychiatric hospital and have you medicated out of existence. You got that?

The inner voice held up its hands in surrender. Got it. No tattoos, no piercings, no exotic purchases, otherwise you'll medicate me.

Sarah nodded. "Just keep that in mind."

Just say no to drugs, Sarah, the voice said pleasantly.


Sarah dragged her shopping bags into the kitchen of her apartment, and quickly put her ice-cream into the freezer. She picked up the pink bag with its dubious contents and walked toward her bedroom. And stopped. There were muffled voices coming from behind her bedroom door. As quietly as possible, she crept up to the door and opened it a crack. Peering inside, she saw Goblin King reclining against the pillows of her bed, surrounded by goblins.

The Goblin King is on your bed, the voice said gleefully. And it's not even your birthday.

Sarah stifled a sudden surge of excitement that seemed to have originated somewhere in her pelvis, and focused on simply watching the scene till she got a hold of herself. Jareth, she noticed, was wearing the high-collared brown leather jacket that he had worn in the tunnels, matched with form-fitting brown leather pants and boots. At the sight of all that leathery goodness, her inner voice swooned.

Pounce on him! the inner voice exclaimed.

Sarah glared at her inner voice. "He is surrounded by goblins."

The voice shook its head impatiently. Fling them out of the way! Eyes on the prize, Sarah! Eyes on the prize!

Sarah rolled her eyes and went back to watching the scene. The King and the goblins appeared to be looking through her photograph collection.

"Look at how lovely she looks here," Jareth said fondly, holding up a photograph of Sarah in her graduation gown.

"Oooooooo," said the goblins, appreciatively.

"Put that one in my pile," Jareth said, handing the graduation photograph to Squeak, who dutifully placed it on a large pile of photos. Jareth then turned to the next photograph and his face grew grim.

"Here's one for you, Skeep," he said coldly, handing Skeep a picture of Sarah standing next to a young man with blonde hair.

"Ok King!" Skeep said. He pulled out a red permanent marker and started drawing a pointy tail on the blonde man, whose only tail-worthy crime was that he was standing in a photograph next to Sarah.

"Very pointy," Skeep said, pleased.

Jareth surveyed Skeep's handiwork. "That's a very fine looking tail, Skeep," he said, rather encouragingly. He looked at the photograph critically. "I believe he should also have horns."

"Make them blue!" said the goblin with the blue horns. Skeep nodded and pulled out a blue marker.

Sarah could not contain herself a moment longer. "What are you doing?!" she exclaimed, bursting into the room, dropping her pink bag in the doorway.

"Hi Lady!" the goblins called.

"We're sorting out your photos," said Ignor.

"Into three piles," said the goblin with the blue stripy socks.

Jareth tilted his head and looked at her appreciatively. "Hello Sarah," he said, his voice a caress.

"Ahh…hi," she said, feeling strangely shy. He smiled, a very knowing smile, at her response.

"This pile is the King's," interrupted Ignor, pointing to a large pile that contained a number of charming photographs of Sarah.

"My personal favorite is this one," Jareth said, pulling out a photograph of Sarah standing in the ocean, wearing a black bikini.

Sarah was mortified. "Give me that!" she exclaimed, making a swipe for the photo, but Jareth easily moved it out of her reach.

"I'm afraid that I can't—it's been confiscated by the Crown," he said in a mock regret, tucking the photograph into the inside of his jacket. He gave her a sly smile. "Though I give you permission to try and retrieve it," he said magnanimously.

"Keep it, I have doubles," she said tightly.

Sarah looked down at the second pile of photographs that Skeep was obviously in charge of. She noticed that it contained photos of Sarah with various other people.

"As you can see," Jareth explained, "Skeep has been making some much-needed improvements to his pile of photographs."

Sarah noticed that these 'improvements' consisted of Skeep drawing a tail, horns, mustache, or what looked like festering sores on each of her male companions.

"Pretty," said Skeep in satisfaction, patting the photos.

"Quite," said Jareth.

"That will be enough of that!" Sarah said indignantly, and quickly took the markers off Skeep.

Jareth shrugged nonchalantly and picked up another photograph. His expression turned deadly. "Bog," he said coldly, handing the photograph to the goblin with the blue horns.

Sarah noticed that the horned goblin's pile consisted of photographs of either Sarah and her old boyfriends, or photographs where Sarah was showing any form of affection to another male.

"Show me that photo!" Sarah demanded. The blue-horned goblin handed it to her, dutifully. In it, Sarah was kissing the cheek of a dark-haired fellow who was wearing a bright yellow hat. She sighed, exasperated.

"Jareth," she said, "this is a photograph of my friend Gary. He…ahh…," she faltered, not knowing exactly how to explain.

The Goblin King looked at her expectantly, his facial expression haughty.

Sarah swallowed. Mindful of the impressionable goblins around her, Sarah bent toward Jareth's ear. "Gary…prefers the company of other males," she whispered.

Jareth blinked. "Tail then," he said, handing the photograph to Skeep.

Sarah groaned. "Ok, that's enough, show's over. Guys," she said, addressing the goblins, "I need to talk to the King. Alone."

"Sure Lady!" they said happily, and began to walk out of the bedroom.

Jareth handed the rest of the photographs to Squeak. "Continue without me," he said quietly.

"Yes Majesty," said Squeak.

Unaware of Jareth's orders to Squeak, Sarah ushered the goblins out of the room and closed the door behind them.

"My, my," said Jareth, looking at the closed door happily, "this looks promising."

Sarah looked at him sternly. "It's not what you think." She sighed. "Look Jareth, you're going to have to cut down on the territorial displays. None of the guys in the photographs present any threat whatsoever and none of them deserve a tail or horns or the bog."

Jareth's expression was one of regal arrogance. "I am a King, Sarah. Kings do not share."

"And what makes you think that I would share my affections?" Sarah asked him archly. Her gaze turned hard. "Will I be sharing yours?" she asked pointedly.

He looked flabbergasted. "Good lord Sarah, I'm exhausted living up to your expectations. Having a harem would probably kill me," he said, dryly.

Sarah felt a remarkable sense of relief at his words. "Nevertheless Jareth, you can't just come here and…"

"…turn your world upside down?" Jareth interrupted.

"Exactly," Sarah said firmly.

Jareth gracefully swung his long, leather-clad legs from the bed, stood up, and began to circle her.

"Really Sarah, it's only fair. Ever since you re-entered my world, my Kingdom has been in chaos. Your influence has ranged from the introduction of that detestable tickling game that encouraged the entire goblin population to fondle each other with a feather duster, to Wheel of Fortune which has caused more destruction to my Kingdom to date than civil war, plagues, and the last chicken-toss festival combined. Your cookies led to singing, Sarah, and irreparable damage to my eardrums. You allowed my figurine to be desecrated in the most heinously Hawaiian fashion imaginable, and this morning I was almost poisoned by my subjects because they were convinced that I had the same malady as one of those puerile characters on your television programs. And let's not even begin to talk about the disconcerting changes that have come over Skeep since he got access to your wardrobe and glitter eye-shadow. In a few short weeks, you have completely turned the Goblin Kingdom on its axis." He stopped circling and stood before her. "Not to mention what you've done to the King himself," he said softly, his gaze intense.

Sarah cleared her throat. "What of the King?" she asked hesitantly.

Jareth gave her a seductive smile that made her nerves perform a strange, tingly little mambo from the tips of her toes, to the top of her scalp. He walked up behind her and, before she could turn, he pulled her back hard against chest, splaying his gloved hand over her abdomen. The warmth of his hand branded her through her thin white shirt.

"The King is enchanted," he purred, tipping her head to the side, exposing the long line of her beautiful neck. Sarah shivered as his breath touched her skin.

"The King is beguiled," he whispered darkly, his lips lightly skimming the length of her throat. Sarah sighed at the sensation. She leaned back against him and entwined her fingers with his.

"The King is conquered all over again," he said brokenly, burying his face into the fragrant mass of her hair.

And Sarah was undone. There was something in his voice, a strange mixture of longing and resignation, that made her ache. She turned a little in his arms and touched his face, her fingers gliding across the harsh angles of his cheeks. Jareth closed his eyes at her touch and she marveled at the fact that he seemed almost stripped bare by his declaration. There was a strange, almost self-mocking smile on his lips, as if he had accepted his fate even though he thought it would lead him to the doorsteps of hell rather than heaven. Looking up at that smile, Sarah felt the warmth that had been unfurling for the past weeks in the vicinity of her heart suddenly shift to her heart where it belonged, and burst into bright white flame. Fueled by her own inner sun, Sarah took Jareth's face in her hands and kissed him. Willingly. Wildly. At long last. And she marveled at the pure wonder of finally feeling his lips against hers.

For the rest of her life, Sarah would always remember Jareth's complete and utter amazement in the first moments of their first kiss. She could taste it on his lips, and feel it in his stance. His first response to her kiss was so tentative, so…disbelieving, that it caused her heart to stumble a little. She was awed by the fact that her little mortal self could have such an effect on this wild fairytale creature in her arms. So she slid her fingers into the silky mass of his hair and slanted her full lower lip back and forth across his again and again, just to convince him that it was not all simply another one of his dreams.

When Jareth realized that Sarah did not intend to run or push him away, he gathered her to him recklessly and took fierce possession of her mouth, claiming her, devouring her, until she felt branded by the warmth of his body pressed against hers, until she felt as though she was falling with him through the sky all over again. She moaned, and his lips moved to kiss the corners of her mouth, the line of her jaw, her closed eyelids, her temples. She slowly opened her eyes and saw him looking down at her with such fierce joy in his mismatched eyes that it made her smile. Smiling in return, he took one gloved finger and gently traced the contours of her smile.

At the first touch of leather on her lips, Sarah's knees buckled and she would have fallen if Jareth had not been holding her so tightly. Her response to his gloved touch made Jareth laugh in wicked delight.

"Those damn gloves!" she said huskily, pulling herself back upright. Within the circle of his arms, she reached over to the nightstand and picked up her own leather gloves.

"That's it," she said, pulling on the gloves briskly, "I'm leveling the playing field."

He laughed again. "Sarah, those gloves aren't enchanted, they have no power over…oh good lord!" he exclaimed as Sarah ran one gloved hand over the exposed skin of his chest.

Sarah smiled mischievously and brought up her other hand beside it, slipping them both under his shirt and moving in languid circles over his skin. Beneath her hands, Jareth's heart started to race.

"Now, what was it that you were saying last night about reality being over-rated?" she asked teasingly.

"I take it back," he said, his head falling back, his eyes closing in ecstasy. "Reality is marvelous," he positively purred.

Sarah exalted in her power over the Goblin King, who appeared somewhat defenseless at the onslaught of her leather-gloved attentions. Smiling triumphantly, she ran her fingers over the sensitive places behind his ears. He growled.

"So," she said archly, "did you only come over today to desecrate my photographs, or did you have another reason for visiting?" she asked, her fingers still moving over his skin.

The King cleared his throat. "I appear to be having some difficulty remembering the reason for my visit," he said hoarsely. He took a shuddering breath. "Though, I am sure it will come back to me if you keep stroking."

Sarah laughed mischievously. The King opened his eyes slowly and looked down at her, his expression dangerously predatory. She paused at the look in his eyes, and unconsciously licked her bottom lip. Jareth noticed the gesture and gave her a dark, hungry smile.

"Ahh, now I remember," he said huskily.

Flicking his wrist, a large gold envelope appeared. "I came to deliver an invitation," he said silkily, holding it out toward her.

Sarah took the envelope rather tentatively.

"It's just an invitation, precious thing," he said, smirking. He closed his eyes. "Do read it. I require a moment to compose myself," he said a trifle hoarsely, and moved away from her to lean against the wall.

Sarah gave him a saucy little smile, and withdrew a beautifully embossed golden card from the envelope. It really was an invitation.

Say yes! the inner voice exclaimed.

Sarah mentally snorted. "I'm not agreeing to anything without more information," she thought stubbornly.

I don't care if he is hosting a Tupperware party, say yes, said Sarah's inner voice urgently. The voice sighed. He's so sexy—I'd gladly buy plastic storage containers from him.

Sarah ignored the voice and began to read.

"His Majesty, Jareth, King of the Goblins, cordially requests the presence of Sarah Williams, Champion of the Labyrinth, for dinner this evening at eight pm to be held in The Castle Beyond the Goblin City. This is assuming, of course, that his Majesty can successfully threaten his imbecilic subjects to remove themselves, and their chickens, from the formal dining hall. Should standard threats concerning the bog, oubliettes, or hula skirts fail to secure this outcome, dinner will be held in the King's formal gardens, although he has recently heard disturbing reports that the wished-away goat has taken up residence there."

Sarah laughed. "I have no objections to dining with the goat," she said playfully.

Jareth snorted. "You jest, but it is an unfortunate possibility."

Sarah turned back to her invitation.

"Dress code: His Majesty would not be at all displeased if you wore something exceedingly seductive."

Sarah gave a startled laugh. "I'm sure he wouldn't." The King only smirked. She continued reading.

"RSVP. Immediately to the King who, in all likelihood, is probably standing before you looking roguishly handsome."

Sarah looked up at Jareth, one eyebrow raised. "'Roguishly handsome'?" she queried.

Jareth gestured to himself grandly. "Behold me, in all my glory," he replied drolly.

Sarah rolled her eyes but she could not quite smother her smile.

"So," asked Jareth, leaning toward her, "do you accept?" He said it in a casual, almost bored manner, though Sarah could see a certain tightness in his jaw, a tension in his stance that seemed to reveal that he was feeling neither casual nor bored.

Sarah pursed her lips and pretended to think the matter over. She tapped her chin with the invitation and tried to look thoughtful.

"Well?" he said imperiously.

"I'm sure that there's something important that I should be watching on television tonight. Perhaps a documentary about the mating rituals of Arctic salmon," she said mischievously

Jareth blinked. "You would prefer to watch fish spawn than dine with me?" he asked, clearly affronted.

Sarah pretended to consider his question carefully.

There was a sudden knock on the door and Squeak entered. "Sorry to disturb you, but the photographs have been sorted, your Majesty."

Jareth kept his eyes on Sarah. "Bog all the boyfriends," he said coldly.

"Yes Majesty," Squeak said. He picked up the pile containing the photos of Sarah and her old boyfriends and ran toward the closet.

"What?!" yelled Sarah, "Wait!" she said, trying to grab Squeak as he dashed past her. She missed and he fled gleefully into the closet.

Sarah turned back to Jareth, trying to rein in her temper. "Hear me, Goblin King," she said as calmly as possible under the circumstances. "I understand that being possessive and overbearing is a hallmark of your kingly nature, but that is not to say that I will like it or even accept it. There will be consequences for your actions."

His eyes narrowed. "What manner of 'consequences' are you talking about, Sarah? And before you respond, I believe it would be best for all concerned if you remember just who you were addressing," he said coldly.

Sarah smirked. "As if I could ever forget, your Majesty." She looked up at him, a challenging glint in her eyes. "You just threw evidence of my old relationships into the bog. I demand that you do the same."

Jareth looked surprised. "What? You want me to throw all reminders of my previous paramours into the bog?"

Sarah nodded. "Letters, trinkets, portraits, tokens of affection, locks of hair, phone numbers…all bogged."

Jareth tapped his chin with his gloved finger. "One of the ladies in question gave me the rather large stone fountain in my private garden. What of that?"

"Bog," Sarah said firmly.

"Really Sarah, the bog will lose some of its menace if it has a jaunty stone fountain in the centre."

"Bog," she said, crossing her arms.

Jareth was thoughtful. "Another one of the ladies planted the hedge-maze…."

Sarah thought for a moment. "The hedge-maze can stay," she said begrudgingly,

Jareth gave a sly smile. "Truly, you can be generous."

"Don't push it," she said tightly, her green gaze flinty.

Jareth was completely delighted by Sarah's possessive display. He pulled her resisting body into his arms.

"I agree to your terms, precious thing," he whispered into her ear. He felt her body relax somewhat against his.

"In fact," he said, brushing his lips over her earlobe, "if you come over tonight, you can watch me pitch everything into the bog," he said persuasively, kissing the sensitive spot behind her ear. "Or, if you prefer, I'll pile the items up and you can set them ablaze, hedge-maze and all."

Sarah suddenly stiffened in his arms. "How big is this pile going to be, Jareth?"

"If it contains the hedge maze, rather large, precious," he said, trying to distract her by gently tugging on her earlobe.

Sarah rolled her eyes. "You are completely infuriating."

"It's my best quality, aside from my hair," he purred wickedly against her skin.

"Ahhh, Lady?" the blue stripy socked goblin said hesitantly.

Sarah pulled herself out of Jareth's arms. "Ahh, yes?" she said, clearing her throat.

Jareth took her hand and began to run a gloved finger along the delicate skin of her inner wrist. She glared at him, but he continued regardless, smiling wickedly.

The rest of the goblins came into the room. "Can we watch television?" Ignor asked.

"Sure," Sarah said shakily, as Jareth brought her wrist to his lips and kissed it. She snatched her hand away, giving him a look that clearly said, Not in front of the goblins!

He raised an eyebrow and gave her a look in return that clearly said, If I create a distraction, would you let me ravish you right here and now?

Sarah pointedly turned her back on him, ran her shaking hands through her hair, and followed the goblins into the living room. She looked around as the goblins sat on the couch.

"Where is the goblin with the frypan hat?" she asked.

"Sick," said Ignor.

"What's wrong with him?" Sarah asked, concerned.

"Leprosy," said Skeep, matter-of-factly.

"Leprosy?!" exclaimed Sarah. "How did he get leprosy?"

"Stole King's ice-cream," Skeep explained.

Sarah looked over at the King who was lounging in the bedroom doorway. "Jareth, tell me that you didn't!"

He looked at her with an indifferent expression and shrugged. "Then I shall say nothing."

At Sarah's glare, Jareth rolled his eyes. "My dear," he explained, "the goblins were warned. The frypan goblin obviously had a deep-seated desire to explore the delights of tropical illness," he answered blandly.

Ignor nodded at that. "He's having a great time."

The goblin with the stripy socks piped up. "We tried giving him your multi-vitamins after his ear fell off but they must only work on nerbus breakdowns." The other goblins nodded solemnly.

Sarah closed her eyes. The man she was about to become intimately involved with was simultaneously capable of making her tremble with a kiss…and giving leprosy to his subjects on a whim. It was hard to reconcile the two realities without having a panic attack. Jareth noticed that Sarah was starting to look a little ill, and walked over to her, drawing her into an embrace.

"Your concern for the little disease-encrusted cretin is admirable," he said, running his fingers through her hair, "but really, precious, the spell will only last twenty-six hours. He'll be fine," he assured her. He paused. "As long as he doesn't misplace any of his fallen body parts."

Sarah groaned and shrugged out of Jareth's arms, walking away from him toward the kitchen. "Next time someone eats your ice-cream, just ask me for more before giving them a tropical disease for a day," she yelled back at him testily.

Jareth was waiting for her by the freezer. "I'll take that under advisement."

Sarah blinked, momentarily disoriented by the fact that Jareth had just appeared in front of her. She had a feeling that his disappearing trick was going to get annoying very fast. She shook her head. "Really, Jareth, you can't keep dishing out these kinds of punishments."

Jareth sighed. "I know that it may seem odd from a mortal standpoint, but the goblins expect a certain level of creative discipline. I know that any day now, they will start petitioning me because I haven't thrown my quota of goblins out of the tower window this month."

Sarah shook her head in disbelief. Jareth simply smiled fondly at her. "There is no need to despair, Sarah. I'm sure you will be a positive influence on me in the future. I can almost feel myself becoming a better man whenever you're around," he replied pleasantly.

Sarah snorted. "It's more likely that you'll corrupt me."

Jareth smiled wickedly. "Now that, precious thing, sounds like a challenge."

Sarah rolled her eyes and opened the freezer. "Let's get back to the matter at hand. I'll swap you a tub of the ice-cream of your choice for the frypan goblin's immediate good health," she said, waving him toward the freezer to make his selection.

Jareth peered inside the freezer. "How delightfully refreshing," he said mildly, as the cool air moved through his hair.

In the blink of an eye, Jareth pulled Sarah into his arms and kissed the base of her throat. He then turned her toward the freezer, letting the cool air hit the warm surface of his kiss. Sarah shivered at the sensation.

"What a delightful appliance," he whispered huskily into her ear. "So full of possibilities…"

At the very thought, Sarah simply shivered again. Unfortunately, she was distracted by a tug on her jeans.

"Excuse me Lady," said the goblin with the blue horns, tugging again. "It's my birthday today. Could I have some ice-cream too?"

Jareth sighed. Before Sarah could respond, he reached into the freezer, flicked his wrist, and pulled out something that resembled a large green lizard.

"Here's something better," he said, handing the lizard-type object to the blue-horned goblin. "Happy birthday."

"What is that?" Sarah asked curiously, looking down at the green reptile cradled lovingly in the blue-horned goblin's arms.

"Freezer alligator!" said the goblin with the blue horns in awe. "Really, Majesty, you shouldn't have!"

Jareth shrugged modestly. "Never say that I am not generous."

"Yes, really Majesty you shouldn't have!" Sarah said in alarm. "You're going to have an alligator running around the Labyrinth? Isn't that going to be a little dangerous?"

Jareth looked thoughtful. "We'll have to warn the rest of the population, of course, including the goat." He looked down at the blue-horned goblin. "Try to encourage it to become a vegetarian."

The blue horned goblin nodded happily. "Yes Majesty!"

"What are you going to name the alligator?" asked Ignor.

"I don't know—how about 'Waffle'?" asked the goblin with the blue horns.

"'Waffle the Alligator'. How positively fearsome," Jareth said sardonically.

Waffle the Alligator had the decency to look embarrassed.

The goblin with the blue stripy socks put up his hand. "Excuse me Majesty, can I have a name too?"

Jareth looked at the stripy-socked goblin. "Possibly. What have you done for me lately?"

Sarah looked at Jareth, appalled. "Of course you can have a name!" she said to the goblin. She knelt down beside him. "What do you want to be called?"

The goblin looked thoughtful. "I don't know. What are my options?"

"How about 'Pickle'," said Ignor.

"How about 'Imbecile'?" suggested Jareth pleasantly. Sarah glared at him.

"Or 'Ice-cream'?" said the blue-horned goblin.

"How about 'Chicken'?" said a small goblin with tusks.

"Why is it always 'Chicken'?" Jareth asked despairingly.

"How about 'Nantucket'?" said Squeak.

"How about 'Miscreant'?" said Jareth lazily.

"Or 'Rosalinda'," said the goblin with the tusks.

"NEVER ROSALINDA!" yelled Skeep from the next room. He came shuffling into the room in his stilettos, grass skirt waving madly, and his fork ready.

Skeep looked at the stripy socked goblin critically. "Squibble," he said decisively.

Jareth shook his head. "Really, he looks more like a 'Cretin' to me."

"SQUIBBLE!" Skeep yelled.

"I like it!" said the newly-named Squibble.

Skeep nodded in satisfaction. "Good," he said, patting Squibble's arm. Sarah decided not to comment on the fact that Skeep was wearing her pink pearl clip-on earrings.

Squibble ran around the kitchen in circle. "I have a name, I have a name! I am Squibble! I am Squibble!" he yelled happily. Till he ran into the fridge door.

Jareth sighed and looked down at the goblin sprawled on the floor. "You'll always be 'Cretin' to me," he said pleasantly.

Sarah looked pointedly at Jareth. "Well, I think Squibble is a wonderful name and it definitely deserves ice-cream," said Sarah, looking into the freezer. "What flavor do you guys want?"

When there was no response, Sarah looked up from the freezer. The goblins and Jareth were standing very still and not paying attention to her. All of them appeared to be listening to something. Something that she could not hear.

"What's wrong?" she asked quietly. Without realizing it, she put her hand on Jareth's arm.

Jareth cursed. "Someone is thinking of wishing someone away," he said quietly.

"They haven't said it yet," said Squeak, still listening.

"But they are close," said Ignor.

"We probably have about fifteen minutes," Jareth remarked.

"Ohhh!!" whined Squibble. "But we were going to have ice-cream."

"And we were going to watch the soap show. Today we will find out who's the father of Veronica's baby!" said the blue-horned goblin.

"Roger," said Skeep, confidently.

"I don't know," the blue-horned goblin said worriedly, "it could be Phillip…"

"ROGER!" yelled Skeep.

Sarah sighed. And I was going to have dinner with Jareth in the formal dining room of the castle, she thought miserably. Or in the garden with the goat, she added, ruefully.

Her inner voice was inconsolable. NOOOOO!! We were so close to the adult-type touching! ADULT-TYPE TOUCHING, people!! Would someone please think of the adult-type touching?!

Jareth turned to Sarah. There was a stubborn glint in his eyes. "We are still having dinner," he said firmly.

"But…" said Sarah.

He bent and kissed her temple. "I can't wait to see how you interpret the dress code," he said slyly.

Sarah only smiled at that comment and laid her head against his chest.

The King stroked her hair soothingly as he tilted his head, listening to the summons. The goblins listened too.

"Oh lord no," Jareth said, horrified.

Sarah looked up at him in alarm. "What is it?"

"There's more than one," he said grimly.

Squibble looked at the King. "What's a pro-wrestler?" he asked, puzzled.

Jareth pinched the bridge of his nose. "I do believe that you are about to find out."

"Someone wished away pro-wrestlers?" Sarah said incredulously.

"Well, given what I was offered last month, I'm just grateful it wasn't a herd of goats," Jareth said dryly. He turned to Squeak. "Go and gather reinforcements—we're going to need them," he said grimly.

"Yes Majesty," Squeak said, running to the closet.

"Come on fellows, you know the drill," the King said wearily, releasing Sarah.

"Bye Lady," the goblins said dejectedly, walking toward the bedroom, their King walking behind them.

Sarah suddenly remembered the fabric softener. "Ignor," she called, "could you and a few of the goblins carry the King's fabric softener back with you?"

"Sure Lady!" he said. A small group of goblins followed Sarah to the kitchen.

Jareth leaned gracefully against the bedroom doorway, waiting for Sarah. Looking down, he noticed a pink shopping bag by his boots. Curious, he picked it up and looked inside. And blinked. And looked again. And pulled out a scrap of black lace held by thin black satin ribbons. "Good lord!" he said in awe.

And it isn't even your birthday… gloated Jareth's inner voice.

Jareth smiled wolfishly. He looked inside the bag again, his expression a mix of anticipation and longing. "She is going to be the death of me," he thought to himself, but he did not seem displeased.

Such a pity about that summons, his inner voice said sadly. You're going to spend all your time with the runner tonight rather than with Sarah and her intriguing apparel. The voice paused. Let's hope it isn't another Mexican grandmother, it said, shuddering.

Jareth looked back inside the bag of lingerie goodness. Surely those were not…tassels? Oh but reality was marvelous!

"Sarah will be coming over tonight," he said determinedly. "Our runner is about to set a new Labyrinth record. I guarantee that they will make it to the castle within three hours, even if I have to carry them the whole way." Jareth said grimly.

The goblins carrying the fabric softener marched past Jareth and walked into the closet, Sarah following close behind them.

"Jareth, I got you ten bottles, just as you asked and …oh hell no!" Sarah said in horror, as she noticed Jareth holding one of the most risqué items in her pink shopping bag.

To Jareth's utter delight, Sarah blushed a rather fetching shade of pink. She shut her eyes for a second, as if to gather her strength, and then lunged toward him, trying to grab the bordello lingerie item from his grasp. Jareth neatly stepped out of her way, and moved around the room, Sarah frantically following him.

"It's not what you think!" she said, jumping up and down, trying to reach for the item above her head.

"Now, don't say that, Sarah," he said in mock sternness, "I was thinking of something particularly pleasant," he said silkily, waving the underwear out of her reach.

She jumped up again, and he moved it at the very last second. "You almost had it that time, precious," he said encouragingly. "Next time, jump just a little higher."

Sarah pursed her lips in determination and pushed a chair in front of him, trying to block his path. Jareth simply walked through it.

"You know," he said, looking at the lacy scrap critically, "I'm not an expert when it comes to human undergarments, so I am not even exactly sure what this is. But I'm quite certain that on you, it will exceed my wildest expectations," he drawled, neatly stepping out of Sarah's reach.

Sarah pushed back her hair from where it had fallen over her eyes. "I swear Jareth, if you don't give that to me this instant, I won't come over tonight even if you do finish with the summons on time."

Jareth stepped in front of the bed and stood perfectly still, the garment still above his head. With a graceful wave of his hand, he gestured for her to take it from him. Sarah jumped up to reach it and in that exact moment, he let himself fall back onto the bed. Sarah fell, or rather sprawled, on top of him. She wriggled along the length of his body, still reaching single-mindedly for her lingerie. Jareth groaned, and put his arms around her tightly, trying to still her.

"Precious," he gasped, "please keep in mind that I am wearing a lot of leather, and your squirming is making me feel particularly… pleased," he said, his eyes closed.

Sarah stopped abruptly. And then inhaled sharply as she finally realized the positioning of their bodies, and exactly what she had been squirming on. "Oh…uh…sorry," she said, a little breathlessly.

"I'm not," he said, hoarsely, and deftly rolled them both over until he was above her and over her, and then he kissed her.

It was not a simple kiss. He poured himself into it—all his darkest longings, all his better thoughts, his every plea, his every pleasure—down to the last bitter fragments and the brightest burning shards of his very core. He laid them bare for her, half afraid that she would pull away. But she didn't. Instead, she twined her body around him, and kissed him back till he felt raw, and they were both shaking. Jareth felt the summons pulling him away, and he reluctantly drew back from her.

"You will come over for dinner tonight, Sarah," he commanded hoarsely.

Sarah nodded, in a daze.

"And you will bring that marvelous pink bag filled with all of my new favorite things with you," he said decisively.

This time, Sarah felt her inner voice nodding vigorously on her behalf.

He looked down at Sarah—her dark hair fanned across the white pillows, her skin flushed, her green eyes glazed with desire. For me, he thought triumphantly. Mine! He could feel the pull of the summons even stronger now…it was almost a physical pain. He smiled ruefully and gently brushed a strand of hair away from Sarah's face.

"You bring me such joy, Sarah," he whispered. And before she could say a word, he disappeared, leaving her with tingling limbs, bruised lips, and covered in glitter.

Best kiss ever, her inner voice sighed dreamily.

Sarah did not even have the energy to nod. She felt incandescent.

I bet you ten bucks that he changes the dress code for tonight to 'clothing optional', the voice said happily.

Sarah only smiled. Then abruptly frowned when she realized that Jareth still had her bordello lingerie.


Author's Note #2.

Due to the events of the previous chapter—where Sarah's inner voice forced Jareth to strip…slowly…against his will to Joe Cocker's You can leave your hat on, before Sarah could liberate him with her skillet—Jareth has refused to take part in any further goblin/chicken/freezer alligator/escaped circus lion slash pairings. Right now, he is curled up in the fetal position, yelling "I feel so dirty!" and mumbling about how he wants to be loved for his mind, not his other leather-clad assets. Sarah has reassured him repeatedly that she loves him for his personality. But, let's face it, Sarah is a dirty liar…

So, while His Majesty regains his composure, please review anyway…

(There's just one more chapter to go. And probably an epilogue, just because I really like the word 'epilogue').