Okay, yes I know you all are right, it was a bit redundant. But, the reason for that is I wanted to give Jareth some ranting time. I think he deserves it. So he had to coat the guilt.

When Sarah came to, her vision was fuzzy. Blinking back the headache she had did little to ease it. And hair, she had hair in her face.But she was comfortable. Sitting up slowly, she looked around the room only to have her heart leap to her throat.

The walls looked familiar. The staircase off to the side, the spherical pit in the center of the room. Flying off what ever she'd lain on, Sarah looked back to see a beautifully made bed of wrought iron with scrolls and design everywhere. The black sheets were shiny and smooth, some wispy, and the wind blowing through the room caught the sheer veil of the overhang. It was so peacefully and romantic, it made her want to puke.

Furiously she turned away from the sight and hunted down the man she intended to give an earful. How could he bring her here! she fumed over it. The nerve, the man was full of it! He wasn't even a man but an over-fluffed fairy with a god complex! She mumbled to herself in vexation, huffing and puffing as she glared around every corner.

"If anything, I'd be a goblin," his cool voice cut through. "But I'm too handsome to be that."

Sarah stopped and looked around at him, seeing him at the top of the winding steps. Of course he be there, she mused, looking down on everyone, playing god.

"I'm too fair for a gnome, too smart for an elf, and I smell exceedingly better than a troll." He descended the stairs with that unconscious grace of his.

Yeah, sure the sane and calm part of her wanted to say, but the rest of her was shrieking as to why she was back her of all places. "What the hell have you done?"

"Me?"

She glared at him, knowing there was no reason to play stupid, and saying as much to him.

"Ah," He nodded, "I'm stupid." He half asked and half stated.

"Why did you bring me here? It doesn't change anything." She informed him, crossing her arms, consciously directing her body language.

"I," he drew his words out, "Did not bring you here."

"Oh," she nodded indulgently, "I suppose I brought myself here."

He shrugged.

Flipping him off she walked around the room, but was soon forced to converse with him again. "Then how did we get here?"

"You."

"Me?"

"You."

She waved her arms around, waiting for the explanation, but he just looked on as if she were crazy. Forcing her arms down and folding them, her head cocked and foot jutting out she forced polite words out to him.

"We are in your castle?" she asked overly sweet and nice, infringing on overkill.

"I suppose," he nodded, which she in turn mimicked. "In a way."

"What?" she threw her hands up again in frustration. She bit the inside of her cheek. Trying again she asked him to explain.

"I can't," he simply shrugged.

"Why not?"

"I just can't, ok?"

"Well, lots of help you are…" she drifted off, back to talking to herself in mutters as she looked out the window. "Now, how do I get home?

"Did you ever think that maybe you were home?" he came up behind her.

What nerve! Her mind shrieked. She turned around, nearly to slap him but saw that he wasn't as close to her as it had sounded. He was quiet a few steps from her, but she burned up the air in between with her hot glare.

"Oh Sarah," His voice condescending. "That isn't what I meant. But would it really be such a bad thing."

"Hmph."

"You're right." He agreed. "I wouldn't want to take you home with me, then I would have to suffer through you even more than I already do."

"What? Wait," she poked a finger at him. "Only minutes ago you were about this far from my face," she held her fingers a breadth apart, "trying to smooth talk in to my panties!"

"And for what would I want your knickers?" he turned away from her and started back up the steps he came in.

"It doesn't matter anyways because you could never get them." She called halfheartedly back at him before setting out towards the front gates.

"If I do recall," he came down the flight two at a time, striding towards her as his voice resounded off the walls, "You fainted with me so far," he mimicked her gesture, "From you. Your pants could've been mine at any time."

"Hmm," she set her hands on her hips, "Did you ever think maybe I passed out from revulsion? Or your ghastly stench?"

To actually see his eyebrows raise at that and his lips part slightly, Sarah gave a mental squeal of joy to have one upped Jareth. "That bog does tend to ruin cologne I hear…"

"You know," Jareth spoke to her very quickly and steely, "I was just going to let you figure this out for your self, but you're quite impossible.

By her confused look at him, wondering what the hell he was talking about, Jareth had the upper hand once again. "You think I've whisked you away to my lair, full of mayhem and depravity, but you'd best look around, my sweet.

"This, cheap knock off," he examined a picture on the wall, scrapping away the paint with a nail, then ripping it off the wall, "Is a product of your imagination.

"We aren't anywhere but your kitchen, luv."

She looked at him.

"Besides, you think I would keep my place like this? You remember it as you want, not how it is." His booted foot kicked away some debris he'd been playing with.

"Riight," Sarah was trying to recover. "I made this." She laughed. "You are really full of it, you know."

"Yes, Sarah," He sighed, his voice in a bored tone. "I am such a character, as you know."

"Well, wasn't it you that thought it would be funny to take away hours from me?" She asked him as she walked around him, trying to gain the upper hand again. "Well that, and part of my life, and my brother's."

"Yes, lets bring it around one more time."

"Oh piss off."

"I would leave if I could."

"Then why don't you already?" she had her hands on her hips. "Besides this being your wicked kingdom and all."

"As I told you," he stared her down, "This is your doing. And as loathe as I am to admit this, you have power of your own. And for this I am trapt."

"Oh let me guess, I have such power over you. Gag."

"No," he crossed his arms. "This is your bloody imagination and you keep me here."

"What?"

"What?" Sarah mumbled, shifting and opening her eyes to find herself on the floor of her kitchen. She sat up and immediately rubbed the throbbing in her temples. "What?" she asked her self "was that?"

"That was you pulling me into your sordid fantasy." Jareth, still there, leaned over her. "And I must say, Sarah, I am very disappointed in you."

"What? What are you doing there? Here? Anywhere!"

"Me? What are you doing dreaming about me?" he countered pulling on her arm and standing her up again. "For someone who claims to despise me I feature a lot, eh?"

"Subconscious, I'm sure." She smiled spitefully at him before sitting down on a stool. "Wait, how did you know you were in my blackout?"

"I am magic."

"You said I had magic."

"Yeh, I was lying."

"Jerk."

"You believed me then?"

Sarah didn't answer.

"You were disappointed then, ha."

"So why are you still here then?" Sarah turned towards him, fiercely questioning him. "You're free to leave now."

"I'm free to do what ever I want to do anyway."

"What do you want from me?" she moaned, her aching head falling into her hands.

"What do you want from me?" he retaliated, not having to enter the discussion that had taken more hours of the day to discuss then actually existed.

"Ibuprofen."

He went through her cabinets and handed her some relief. Continuing through her stuff he waited for her to go on. There were still words left unsaid. "Its all in your head anyways."

"The pain?" she groaned. Her head hurt dammit. That must be why she was still suffering his presence.

"Well that, and everything else."

"What?"

"The pain, the stress, Me, the Labyrinth, mm, everything."

"Wait wait wait," she held up a hand. "Are you trying to tell me you are my figment?"

Was he, and the Labyrinth, just something she made up? Or was making up now? Surely she was not really just sitting her by herself, making up reason why she didn't or shouldn't get married. Well, it was too late for that now. But, and her heart started to race at the thought, that she might have made up such an asshole to entertain her. One that she compared other guys to! Jareth in her head! Not in it but from it! And the labyrinth, it's--

"No don't be daft, I am a real as you." He cut into her racing thoughts.

"So you aren't in my head, what?" she was getting confused.

"Must you make everything so complicated?" he asked her, sitting on the counter, eyeing her skeptically.

"Part of my charm," She growled at him, getting up and slowly walking towards her refrigerator. Obviously he wasn't going to tell her any more of things being 'in her head.'

"So, tell me, why were you in my labyrinth?"

She looked over her shoulder at him from the door to the fridge. His eyes were settled on her, not intensely, but bored, waiting for entertainment.

"I think you put it in my head," she accused him in a flat tone.

"Right, Sarah." He rolled his eyes, seeing he wasn't going to get anything out of her.

"If I wanted to take you there," he spoke up after a pass of silence, "I would just do it."

"Like this-" He made a quick gesture, watching her flinch. He sat back down quietly, looking rather smug.

"But," He kept talking now that he had her attention. "I wouldn't want to take you back because you wouldn't properly appreciate it."

Sarah snorted in ridicule.

"Oh, yes," his tone changed to one of laden sarcasm. "But you've completely forgot your friends, eh?

"Some mate you are."

"Don't try to play mind games with me, you were never very good at it." Sarah countered.

"It worked on you if I do recall."

"Yes, but who won?"

"Eh, you just wanted your little brother back," he waved a hand at her in dismissal. "If you ever did what you really wanted instead of what you should, you'd be a lot happier."

"You would know all about it. I suppose." She crossed her arms as she leveled her gaze on him, but he did not react, merely shrugged.

"Give me a chance to show you and we'll see."