A/N: Hello you lovely folks! Thanks for adding this as a Favorite and also for the Story Alert-ing. I would have had this updated earlier, but it's that time of year … Elementary Science Fair for my oldest daughter and we had to put in an appearance and cheer her on. :) (She did research on different Vinegars and the pickles they can make... ya know... if anyone's interested. lol)
And... I'm sure you Labyrinth die-hards know this... but the Park Plaza in Los Angeles really does host The Labyrinth of Jareth Masquerade Ball and has done so for several years from my research.
Also: Rey = King in Spanish. I almost made his alter-ego "del Reyes" = of the Kings, but thought that would be too much.
Finally: Anyone else who has an eReader and loves to read FanFic:
Did you know about www . Flagfic . Com ? Amazingly easy to use and convert into ePub format (works best for my Nook) and move over to my device. Just an FYI. :)
And... onto the next chapter!
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"Never in a million years did I ever think that I would be this close to your cock," Sarah grimaced, "and yet, it's not quite close enough. Gawd, how do I get myself into these situations?" she groaned and kept her hands discretely pushing down on the ice bag that covered his groin. Must...not...grope, she reminded herself, gently flexing her hands in an almost-massage. Must...not...fall...under...his...spell. Remember why you're pissed off and you kneed him in the nards again, Williams!
She mentally pulled up the file showing the last half hour.
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"You are a vision in that color, my lady. Truly...memorable." Sarah hadn't responded; she couldn't respond; her crimson-painted lips still slightly parted.
The beautiful man casually offered his hand to her and bowed over her hand, turning it over gently to place a tender kiss on her palm. It nearly undid her. Her world tilted on its axis as the breath had whooshed from her lungs and she had sputtered, "I don't think that's in the contract, Mister Rey."
Mister Rey smirked and replied with a sardonic, "My precious girl, touching is allowed – albeit not of a sexual nature. True? Does my touch affect you to such an extent you fear to rip my clothes from my body?"
She snatched her hand back and hastily stood without his help; she postured regally and sniffed disdainfully, "As if you of all people could -" she paused, "I am ready to enter the building and begin the weekend, Mister Rey. Shall we?" Keep your calm Sarah, she reminded herself. Treat him like any client.
Unbidden, she remembered how she had treated all the other clients – as if they were Jareth. Intellectually teasing and sensually tormenting each man subtly, until they were willing to rip up the escort agreement and tumble her; that had been her way of getting back at Jareth – by imagining every man was him and gaining revenge of a fashion, in making those men want her.
She blushed, then paled. Ohhhh fuuuucck... she was in trouble.
He sighed in amused defeat – for the moment anyway, "Yes, of course my lady." His eyes sparkled with repressed mirth, one side of his lips up-tilted to match his insane eyebrows. "Allow me." Jareth took her elbow and guided her through the glass-walled entrance. Her silken scarlet skirts flowing gracefully with each step.
People in every costume imaginable in every color, shape, and style were visible as far as the eye could see. A sea of fantasy, she thought and allowed Jareth to guide her closer to his body as they made their way across the large parquet floor foyer and over to the entrance of the first ballroom where he stopped to gesture to the placard on the easel, "I thought it was fitting our ten year anniversary be commemorated properly, my precious Samantha." Sarah gulped audibly, her throat a dry desert as she read the placard on the easel proclaiming, "Fantasy Weekend: Labyrinth of Jareth, Masquerade Ball ~Two Amazing Nights within the Royal Court" with details of the opening ceremony listed below.
Sarah mentally smacked her forehead and willed her jelly-filled knees to keep holding her steady. She had quite literally, walked into the lion's den.
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Jareth kept a firm grip on her elbow as she closed her eyes and hung her head, her breath coming shallowly. The ballroom doors were suddenly flung open wide, ushers on either side of the main doors held back the crowd. There were a few gaily dressed couples in front of them; Jareth jostled them in his haste to make sure his companion was able to view the splendor he'd created in her honor.
She felt the need to rub her her eyes to make sure she was really seeing what she saw when she was able to peak within.
Sarah's strangled gasp made her companion grin down at her ferally. The mask couldn't contain what she interpreted as malicious glee radiating from his mismatched eyes. She met his gaze, then returned to looking at the transformed ballroom in horror.
"Oh gawd... you didn't!" Oh but yes, he had. Chandeliers that dripped crystals in swirls cascading down from the high ceilings; pillars were randomly placed around the giant ballroom; swaths of heavenly glittered fabric draped the entire room in a silken cocoon, heightening her nostalgia. Chairs and tables of what appeared to be white wrought iron were covered in elegant white tablecloths scattered throughout the large room. A profusion of flowers in pinks and yellows were liberally sprinkled at each table. The lighting was intimate, just as the Peach fantasy had been.
Jareth stepped in front of the queue of couples and took Sarah's arm fully. Her nervous system just about shut down realizing that after all these damn years, he was touching her, holding her arm – no, wait, now he was holding her hands and leading her into the room while others, held back by the ushers, watched them curiously.
She was amazed by the trouble he'd gone through to recreate what must have been so stupid and silly to him. They had been, after all, fantasies influenced by her romantic teenage heart. And really, what man wants to deal with that. She dug her heels into the parquet floor and forced him to release her hands. "Stop. Just stop, Jareth!" Sarah rubbed her forehead and looked into his hurt eyes – hurt? Pfftt - "What do you want from me? You're up to something, Mister Rey, and I warn you, I am ten times more clever now than I was as a child." She balled up her fists at her sides as she watched the uninhibited grin spread slowly across his face.
"Ah, but precious thing -"
"I am not a thing – I'm a woman! Hear me roar dammit!"
He chuckled and circled her – just as he had that last time when the Escher room had fallen to pieces, "Temper, temper oh dearest Sarah, I've been watching you … as those guests over there are watching us now. This is not the place to discuss what I want. Later, perhaps." He held out his hand, waiting for her to take it.
"I don't trust you Jareth. Are you going to fatten me up and eat me later? Or just get me drunk and take advantage? You may as well tell me now. Seriously, look at me!" She motioned to the beautiful gown and elaborately done hair. "I dressed up tonight for a client – and I get you! But all this time I thought I was paranoid – you were making me that way, not myself!" She spun around as if to walk away, thoroughly riled up, but decided against it and returned to face him. "And Madame Fay? I'm not an idiot – Fairy Godmother my ass! She served me up on a silver platter to you!" Sarah crossed her arms, glaring up at him, "But why? Revenge? And why did you hang up on me? I think you broke my mirror! You... you... jackhole!" she sputtered out, seething.
Jareth, to his great misfortune, was laughing at the neurotic monologue spewing forth from Sarah's perfectly shaped lips. He continued to grin and guffaw rather unattractively until she stepped closer to his royal tight-pantedness, taking his hand roughly; they moved to stand chest to chest. She could feel the warmth radiating from his lithe form, smell the intoxicating woodsy and dark scents that were Jareth. He caught his breath and squeezed her hand, smirking, "Jareth, the Goblin King, spreading paranoia since nineteen-eighty-six."
"I'm not a little girl anymore, Jareth."
"Of course you aren't precious. I can tell by how you act," he patronized with an arched brow.
Sarah's expression took on a calculating look; she raised her arms up to his shoulders and whispered for him to bend his head down – he was still a head taller despite her having grown an extra six inches in her teens. His surprise was quickly hid and he complied, bringing her lips level with his ear. Dumb boy, he thought he'd won...
"You want to laugh at me? Won't answer my questions? I bet I can make you cry like a little girl, oh mighty Goblin King," she whispered seductively. He was still trying to process what exactly she'd said when he felt her hands grasp his shoulders tight, and slammed her knee up into his groin area, hard.
He let out a high pitched scream of pain, grabbing his crotch, and wilted to the hard wooden floor into the fetal position – witnessed by the other guests, still waiting for entrance by the ballroom doors.
Sarah's triumphant smile and her arms crossed over her ample breasts said it all to him; she watched his body writhe upon the floor, his eyes bugged from their sockets a bit, his mouth emitting soundless screams.
"It's on like Donkey Kong, you great ass," she smirked and went to exit the ballroom, her scarlet skirts billowing behind her. And maybe get him some assistance, because, ya know, he might need it.