Going Courting Part Eleven
By ACJ Leveille


Author's Note:
I'm sorry this took so long to get out, but it is the end. Finally. Well, this and an epilogue, which is being posted right after this, so it really is over. I'm surprised to find myself so sad. I'm happy its over, and I like how it worked out, but... now that's it's gone... sigh. Okay, let me know what you think, how it worked out, that sort of thing. Thanks for bearing with me this long time, and I hope you enjoyed. I certainly did! Oh, and thanks to all my reviewers, you mean so much to me!


*** Previous part***

Jareth stood. "Until yesterday, my dear, I didn't think I had a chance," he confessed. "But don't worry, now that I know your feelings, I have no doubts about my success." He leaned down, touching his lips to her own before she could divine his intention. Then he was gone.

Sarah moaned, cradling her head in her hands. "When am I going to learn to keep my mouth shut?" She asked herself.

"Oh," Jareth added, popping back into the room. "You have half an hour to decide what we're doing, or..."

"Or what?" Sarah asked, raising her head enough to glare at him.

"Or I will!"

*** *** ****

Of course, she chose.

"All right," she snarled at him, stalking out of the kitchen when two minutes to spare. "I'll be ready in ten minutes." She disappeared into her room. Jareth watched after her, raising his eyebrows. He tried not to laugh.

She appeared in nine minutes, dressed and presentable. She wore jeans and a sheer blouse, and a rich purple vest over those.

"I see your taste in clothing hasn't changed," he commented, looking her over.

Sarah rolled her eyes. "Come on," she said, grabbing his wrist. Her eyes shot to his, hesitated for a second, then flew away. She grabbed the door, and they were heading down to the street.

Jareth, having magicked himself new clothing while they were alone in the elevator, was silent for about three blocks of their walk. "Where are we going?" He asked as they passed another intersection.

"We're going to catch a bus," she told him.

"A bus?" He repeated. She smiled at how horrified he sounded.

"Oh, don't worry," she crooned, stopping at a bus shelter. "It doesn't hurt."

The vehicle pulled to a halt a few minutes later, the door opening with a screeching whine. Sarah pushed him inside, showing the driver a ticket. "Pass," she explained. Jareth nodded like he understood.

They rode for a bit. Sarah was silent, staring out the window. Jareth watched the tall buildings change to complexes, then into rolling farmland. When the bus ground to a halt, six or seven stops later, they were at a small-town train station.

Sarah indicated that it was their stop, and Jareth slid from his seat. "We're lucky," she commented as she jumped down off the last stair. "This bus line goes all the way here. The fairground is just over there," she pointed. Off in the distance Jareth could hear music and laughter.

"A fairground?" He asked, looking askance.

"An amusement park," Sarah said with a smile.

They walked to the sidewalk. Now that he was on the street, he could see that the park wasn't that far down at all. "Have you been to this place before?" He asked her.

"Of course! I grew up around here! Everyone's been here!" She stopped, turning to him and walking backwards. "You've never been to an amusement park?" She asked him.

He didn't like the look in her eyes. "I've heard of them," he said. "I have never been to one."

Her eyes sparkled, he decided. A gleam that he would have termed maniacal from any other person.

"Ooh, you'll love it!" She crowed, wrapping her fingers around his wrist one more time, and tugging him down the sidewalk.



Two hours later, they wandered arm in arm.

"It is... different," he admitted to her. "It seems closer to my world than to yours."

Sarah smiled at him, tucking a clump of hair behind her ear. "I don't know about that, but... it's fun!" She declared.

She noticed Jareth's smile and felt her heart lift. "I'm glad you're having fun," she said, looking around the fairgrounds. The sun had peaked, and sweat was beading on Sarah's brow. "Besides, we still haven't done the roller coaster yet!" She exclaimed.

"What?" He asked. She pointed. Off they went.



"Aaaaaaaaaaaaaah!!" She screamed, almost directly into his ear. She noticed that he was clutching the bar on the small car, deadly silent. She leaned closer to him. "Are you okay?" She asked.

He nodded once. The barest trace of a smile turned the corners of his lips.

"You're supposed to scream," she told him loudly. Noise echoed all around them. She felt insulated in their car, her leg brushing his, and his hair touching her shoulder.

"I don't scream," he said, not having to raise his voice. Magic, she realized. She rolled her eyes and screamed again.

There was a bump, and a frission of fear tightened her muscles. She had ridden this coaster many times before, and there had never been a bump. The scream died in her throat as the car bumped again. "Oh my god," she found herself whispering.

"What is it?" Jareth asked, leaning close to her. "Is something wrong?"

The car lurched to the side, and the sudden silence descended on the riders. Everyone seemed to realize that something was wrong. Sarah remembered all of the statistics, all of the horror stories, and forced them out of her mind. "It's going to be okay," she told herself.

There came a harsh metallic ringing, and she risked a look over the side, gulping to see how far above the ground they were riding. The cart kept going, thankfully. She didn't know if she could have taken being stopped in the middle of the track, or worse, in the middle of a loop!

"Sarah!" Jareth's voice made her realize that her eyes were closed. She whipped the open, looking at him. His blonde hair was flying in the wind. She focused on his eyes. He looked worried. "Is there a problem?" He demanded.

She wanted to tell him everything was okay. She looked over the side again, steeling her stomach first. There were people gathered below, pointing up at the coaster. The silence was eerie as the coaster ripped along the track. More people were gathering below, and she could see that most of them wore the uniform of the park employees. "Something's wrong," she said, feeling her heart plummet.

This wasn't how she wanted to die, she realized. She looked at him, at Jareth. She couldn't believe that she was going to die sitting next to the Goblin King.

"What?" He asked. At the same time, the cart leaned alarmingly. Screams rang out, but not light screams of fun. They were screams of real fear. Sarah gripped the bar tighter, watched as her fingers turned white. She saw heads swiveling around her.

She just stared at him, unable to speak. They headed down a curve. They had finished most of the track. Maybe it would stay on the track until they reached the end. The cart lurched once more, this time bucking and screeching in its tracks. This time the screams were made of authentic terror.

Sarah knew two things in that moment, two truths in all the chaos. She looked deep into Jareth's blue eyes and told him. "We're going to die," she said, then, "I love you." She froze that moment in her memory, the wonder and amazement on his face, and then snapped her eyes shut. She held tightly to the bar and hoped, as the bucking started yet again, that it wouldn't be that painful an end.

The ride smoothed. It was sudden. Unexpected. The rail clicked by and the screams and moans echoed around her. She heard people crying. All sound died down. She cracked one eye open. The track slid by smoothly, the car taking the curves and twists effortlessly. Her mouth dropped open. She looked at Jareth, ready to peel her hands from the safety bar and throw them around him.

He was sitting rock still, staring at the track ahead. As she watched, a trickle of sweat slid down his face.

A cheer startled her, and she knew that the others were realizing that they were going to live. She kept watch over him, though, biting her lip as she tried to concentrate with him. She couldn't begin to imagine the effort it must be taking him.

The car stopped on the block, sliding in almost too fast. It came to an abrupt stop right before it began the climb into the curves again, but then slid back into place.

There were many hands to help unbuckled the passengers, many people to lend helping hands. Sarah was pulled almost bodily from the cart. She turned back immediately, bending down to reach for Jareth. She touched him, a mere brush against the white cloth of his shirt. "Are you okay?" She asked.

He shook his head, looking at her in a strange, unfocused way. "Sarah," he said, voice almost thick.

"Is he alright?" The man who had helped her from the cart asked. "Does he need medical assistance?" Sarah knew then that their death had been almost sure before Jareth's intervention.

"He's okay," she said. "I'll get him out." The man nodded, hesitating a second before going down the line to the next passenger.

"Come one," she coaxed, reaching her arm out. "Take my arm."

He latched on, and her heart pounded when she saw that his hand was trembling. He stood, looking old and worn, and stepped from the cart. Sarah slid an arm around his back to steady him. "Here, there's a bench right on the side here." She told him. He stepped blindly. When they reached the bench, he slumped onto it, legs sprawled.

"Jareth?" Sarah asked. She felt panic begin to beat at her chest. "Jareth," she repeated, a little louder.

His eyes slipped open. They were washed out. A smile broke across his face. "You're all right," he said in a whisper.

"Oh, Jareth!" She said, throwing herself against him. "You're okay!" She clutched at his shirt, riding the exhilaration for a moment before lurching up and glaring at him. "Don't you ever scare me like that again!"

He laughed, a pitiful ghost of his usual mocking tone, "Would you prefer to have died?" He asked.

She gulped.

"Did you mean it?" He questioned, tilting his head ever so slightly. She knew what he meant.

Heat rose. She nodded. The certainty of feeling was still there - a deep conviction that she did, indeed, love him.

"Sarah!" A voice intruded. His eyes danced behind her, a frown of disapproval on his face. He smiled a bit when he saw who it was. Sarah turned to look.

"Toby!" She cried. He threw himself against her, hugging her tight.

"You almost died!" He said, wiping tears out of his eyes and sniffing.

"I'm all right," she assured him. She patted his back. She wondered what the mad ride had looked like from the ground.

"Sarah," her father came up, gathering her into his arms. He held her tight for a moment, his own breathing ragged, then gave her to Karen for a similar hug.

Sarah leaned back against the bench and stared at her father, stepmother and brother. "What are you guys doing here?"

"We saw you in the line and were waiting for you to get out," Toby supplied. He continued, eyes huge in his face, "It was so scary!"

Sarah gathered him close for another fierce hug. "I didn't. I'm all right."

He struggled free, and Karen pulled him close to her. "I'm glad." She said, reaching to try to smooth her frazzled hair.

"So am I," Sarah groaned. She looked at Jareth, who was regaining some of his color.

"Do you guys want to walk around with us?" Toby asked.

Sarah shuddered. "You know what," she told her brother, "I think that I am all parked out for the night." She looked up at the roller coaster that still towered above them. The lines had been shut down. No one else was going to ride that monster today. "Thanks for the invite, though."

"I tell you what," Sarah's father suggested, looking sideways at the man sitting beside his daughter. "How about if we take you out for dinner?" He looked at his wife, who nodded in agreement.

"Sounds wonderful," Jareth said. He sounded a bit hoarse, Sarah noticed. He was pushing himself up from the bench. Sarah leaned over him.

"Are you sure you're up to this?" She asked.

His eyes flashed to hers; they were full of laughter. "Why, Sarah, are you worried about me?" He teased. She stared to get angry. Seeming to sense it, he put a hand on her arm. "I'm fine," he told her. "Just a bit tired."

She bit her lip as he stood, smoothing the lay of his shirt and his hair. He held out his elbow. Sarah took it, looking at her father. "Are you sure it's not too much trouble?"

"Where do you want to go?" He asked with a smile.



"So, where did you meet my daughter?" Her father asked.

Sarah looked at Jareth and found herself blushing.

"We met a few years ago," Jareth said smoothly. He picked at the salad that had been deposited at their table a few short minutes before.

Sarah glanced at Jareth, then stabbed a bit of lettuce from her own salad. "We work together."

Jareth gave up the pretense of eating, balancing his fork on the rim of his bowl. "I am the Creative Director of a project that she is working on," he informed her parents.

"Are you her boyfriend?" Toby asked.

Sarah, Karen and her father all looked at him in varying degrees of horror. Jareth laughed, long and hard. "No, I'm her fiancé," he corrected.

Sarah began to choke on her salad, and Karen sputtered, "You're getting married?" Jareth smiled, revealing very white teeth.

Toby looked a bit blank for a second, then smiled as well. "Cool!"



"Did you have to say that to them?" Sarah demanded, stalking toward a dark green minivan. Karen and her father had offered to drive them home and while Sarah had still been too stunned to respond, Jareth had smoothly accepted for both of them.

"Darling," the man crooned, laying an arm over her shoulders. He leaned down to her, so close his breath was hissing in her ear. "Allow me to take advantage of whatever I can, please."

Sarah shoved his arm off, feeling ridiculously childish. He easily claimed her hand, swinging it as her family came up behind them. Karen unlocked the sliding door. Toby jumped in, claiming the back seat. Sarah slid over on the first bench and Jareth scrunched in beside her.

Sarah's father started the car and they were off. "We going to your apartment, Sarah?" He asked, glancing in the mirror to see her. He wore a smile, but still looked a bit shell-shocked.

She nodded, still shocked herself. Jareth twined his fingers with hers, pulling her hand onto his lap.

Karen twisted in her seat, smiling back at them. "I'm happy for you both," she said with a big smile.

Sarah plastered a big smile on her face and kept it there until they got to her apartment building. She hopped out of the van, pushing Jareth out first. "Thanks for the ride, dad," she called to him. "I really appreciate it."

Karen rolled down her window. "It was nice to meet you, Jareth," she said, waving a little.

Sarah rolled her eyes, unable to believe how juvenile the whole situation made her feel. Just having Jareth around made her feel enough like a teenager! It was so hard to relate to him as an adult, she mused. She flinched when Jareth's arm was slung over her shoulder once again.

"It was nice to meet you too, Mrs. Williams," he said gravely, making a little bow. Karen was flattered, smiling widely at Sarah as she rolled up her window and the minivan pulled away from the curb.

Sarah whirled on Jareth, mouth opening to blast him with her temper, but she stopped. He was white, and wavering on his feet. His eyes were still lacking their normal intensity. Her anger evaporated.

Without a word, she slid her arm beneath his shoulder and pressed him to her, resting her head on his heart for one guilty second. "Let's get you upstairs," she murmured.



Sarah pushed open the door after unlocking it, heading straight for the shower. She had spent the past few hours doing laps around the nearby park, trying to think. Jareth had collapsed on the couch as soon as they had reached the apartment, and she wasn't surprised to see him still asleep.

Once refreshed, she looked out of the window, over the horizon. It was getting late, the sun was sinking, painting the sky red. It reminded her of the sky of the Labyrinth. Was that, she wondered, where the Labyrinth was? In that place just beyond the horizon, where the red light shone all the time? She laughed at herself for thinking about it.

It was Saturday. Usually, on a Saturday she would laze around, enjoying her weekend. Maybe go shopping. By this time of the evening, as the night crept up, she would be happily cuddled on her couch, watching some inane television show or another.

Tonight, a Saturday, she was afraid to speak. She glanced at the still-sleeping man on her couch. Tonight she was keeping vigil over a king. A Goblin King. A refugee from a fantasy world. The man of her dreams who had, just hours before, claimed her as his bride-to-be. It didn't help any that this was just after he had saved her life.

She sighed, leaning back against the window. "Why did he have to come back?" She mourned, wanting to cry. "Life was so simple." Her hand fisted, thumping against the wall. "Now..." Again, she blinked back tears. She turned toward the window, resting her cheeks against the cool glass.

Hands slid around her waist, pulling her away from the window and turning her around. "I have been cruel," he murmured, cupping her chin in his bare palm. With one finger he gently pushed away the hair from her face.

She looked up, and saw pain in his eyes as he saw the wet trails from her tears. The look caused a new wave of sorrow to crash over her, and the tears clouded her eyes. She heard a broken sound, and wiped frantically, wanting to see what was going on. His hand left her.

He had twisted away, stood now with his back to her. "I'm sorry," he said stiffly, his back straight and tight. "I did not mean to call you pain." He stared out the window, his face reflected back into the apartment. "I will leave as soon as I can."

Sarah swallowed a fresh wave of tears, biting on her knuckle. "I'm sorry," she whispered, coming up behind him.

"You?" He whipped around, glaring at her. "You have done nothing, save tell me what I should have listened to in the first place - that I am unwanted in your life!" He laughed at himself, a bitter sound.

"What?" She asked, staring. She would swear that there were tears in his eyes, but it wasn't possible... was it?

"I have intruded in your life, Sarah. It is I who should apologize." He turned away again, voice falling to a normal level. "I have loved you for so long," he confessed. "It seems ages since I first saw you..." His mouth turned up.

"What do you mean?" She asked, startled.

He glanced at her once. "I saw you, where you were no more than a child, in my crystal. So strong, so beautiful. So stubborn. Then you called on me and I knew.....we were fated to be together." He shrugged.

"Fated?" She struggled with the ideas he was throwing at her. "When I was a child?"

This time he faced her, lips curled in self-mockery. "Have you never listened to the first words of that play? 'What no one knew was that the Goblin King was in love with the girl,'" he quoted. "The truth, more true than you could ever guess."

She stared at him, frozen.

The bitterness seeped into his eyes, still washed out. His face still wore the strain of the afternoon, making him seem almost vulnerable. "Don't worry," he told her, seeming to read the thoughts whirling through her head. "I have lived centuries alone, and I will no doubt endure many more in the same fashion. Of course," he confessed, "I still cannot leave. I am bound to this Earth until my two weeks runs out, or I am entirely empty of magic. Then the Labyrinth will call me back." His blue eyes were leveled on her. "I am sorry, Sarah, for causing you grief. You swore to me that you knew me... that you loved me." He paused. "I truly believed that we could be happy together."

"Ask me again," she said, breaking into the silence.

"What?" He asked, confused.

"Ask me to marry you again," she said, heart welling inside of her. How could she have been so cruel, she wondered? Turned him down, again and again. How could she never have seen the devotion that was so clearly displayed for her now? The thoughts, the recriminations pounded in her head until she began to develop a headache. "I will marry you," she said, unwilling to wait for him to ask.

He was already shaking his head. She saw, and fear shot through her. Was it already too late?

"I will not. Not tonight." He stared at her. "I will ask you once more before my sojourn here is over. Once, and for all eternity, do you understand?"

Sarah nodded.

"I do not want your pity," he growled. "If you do not truly love me, then do not bother with protestations of affection." The kingly hauteur was back. "Now, if you do not mind, I am going out." He stalked to the door, throwing it open manually.

She stepped forward. "Are you sure..." she began.

His eyes were cold when they met hers. "Do not begin to baby me, either. I am not a child." His words were icy.

She nodded again, and watched as the door slammed shut behind him.

Then she ran to her room, where she flung herself on her bed and let the tears flow. She had a lot of thinking to do.



She didn't hear him return Saturday, although when she awakened late Sunday morning he was sleeping on the couch. Even once he awoke, there was none of the light, teasing banter that she had begun to be accustomed to from him. He was rude and demanding. Somehow, though, she couldn't find it within herself to say anything to him.

Over and over she thought about what he had said. Really thought about it. He was no child, as he was proving each and every minute of the day. Did she love him enough to deal with his temper, his self-righteous attitude? She asked herself over and over, debating every aspect of his argument ceaselessly.

She did finish her project. Marcus set himself up in an empty cube nearby so that they could consult more easily. It was hard work - a welcoming distraction from her heavy thoughts - but it was finally done.

All too soon, Thursday came. It was the final meeting with 'Mr. King.' The presentation was scheduled for the next day. Sarah awoke alone in her apartment and realized, with some trepidation, that Jareth had but two days left - Thursday and Friday. Before she left for work, she began to wonder when exactly he was going to ask again for her hand. She arrived to find a message from Marcus saying that the meeting had been moved up, and found herself hurrying up floors to get to the conference room.



"It looks very good," Mr. King said, closing the last folder. He looked at Marcus. "You are prepared for tomorrow?" He asked.

"We're ready," he said, glancing at Sarah.

"Good," the platinum haired king-in-disguise nodded, preparing to leave.

"Hey," Marcus called, "are you going to have dinner with us tonight?" He asked.

Sarah, who had been mostly silent during the entire meeting, looked at her roommate hopefully, pleading with her eyes.

Jareth sighed, knowing that he was lost. "I assume this is a tradition?"

Marcus nodded. "Of course! At the end of the project, everyone gets dinner together to celebrate. It can be written off as an expense," he explained.

"Ah." Jareth commented. "Where, and when?" He asked, resigned to the inevitable.

"Around eight tonight," Marcus said, naming a pricey restaurant.

Jareth nodded once more, glancing at Sarah, whose wide dark eyes were lit with happiness, and left the room. Once outside he cursed, leaning against the wall. His magic was waning, and he wondered - not for the first time - if he was going to make it through the whole two weeks.

He heard Sarah's laughter coming closer, and pushed off from the wall, forcing himself to move to the elevator, closing it quickly. He had to make it. He had to.



"This is great," Sarah said, glancing overhead at the high red curtains. She took a sip of her wine, swallowing the tart drink, and looked at the two men she was eating with. Marcus wore a nice suit, dark and bland. He looked like every other man in the restaurant. Jareth wore tight pants, a vest, and a blousy shirt, even gloves. The pants, vest and gloves were dark lavender. Sarah didn't know how he had gotten past the maitre d' dressed like that, but she thought he looked delicious.

"So, what are you doing after this?" Marcus asked, looking at Jareth. "What does old Peabody have lined up for you?"

Jareth smiled, the expression not quite reaching his eyes. "I'm going home," he said.

Marcus sat up. "You're quitting your job?"

Jareth took a bite of his seafood dish, rolling it around in his mouth without answering.

"Where do you live?" He asked, the tone nearing that of a demand.

"Far, far away," Jareth said finally. "Halfway across the earth."

"Europe?" Marcus hazarded. He looked at Sarah, who was picking at her food, all joy gone. She didn't want to think about Jareth leaving, didn't want to think about the hole he'd leave behind, the life she now realized would be so empty without him. "Aren't you are Sarah... a thing?"

Sarah looked up, eyes wide.

"We certainly are not!" The reply was forceful and immediate. It brought tears to her eyes.

Marcus' eyes narrowed, glaring at Mr. King. "I can't believe you would jerk her around like that!" He said, abandoning his half-eaten meal.

Jareth sat, rigidly silent.

"Sarah loves you," Marcus said, feeling his face redden. People were looking at him, but it didn't matter to him. "And you're just going to up and leave her after popping back into her life just long enough to torment her?" A snow-white napkin hit the table as Marcus stood. "I think you really better reconsider your treatment of her!"

Jareth looked at the man. "I don't know what you have been told," he said icily, "but our relationship is really none of your business."

Sarah watched Marcus turn red, and then saw a waiter hurrying up toward them. She put a hand on her friend, trying to calm him. The waiter whispered in his ear, and he nodded once. "Pay for me," he commanded Sarah, stalking outside. "I need to get outside, away from the stench."

With one last ugly look for the cool Mr. King he stalked away. After a few minutes, Sarah could see him pacing back and forth outside of the restaurant, hands waving and mouth moving.

"Like that man knows what a stench is," Jareth grumbled, picking at his food. "I can't believe he ruined a perfectly good meal." With a sigh he pushed his plate away and turned to Sarah.

"What are you doing," he demanded.

Sarah froze, she had been looking worriedly out the window. "I ... Marcus..." She stammered, motioning.

"You're not thinking of going after him?" Jareth asked.

"Please," she said, putting a warm hand over his wrist. "He's my friend."

Jareth stared at her. She pleaded with him silently. He seemed to see something in her eyes, for he grumbled and looked away.

Grateful, she turned and left, sparing one last look for the downcast king.



The Goblin King set down his silverware, and just in time. His form wavered - the worst evidence of his waning strength. He clenched his hands, trying to keep a grasp on his increasingly insubstantial hands. Slowly, the feeling passed and he knew he had regained complete control.

He looked in the direction Sarah had disappeared, picturing her face as she had turned to leave. As she had deserted him - for that mortal!

Knowing it to be foolhardy, but seeing no other choice, he brought into being a handful of the papers that passed for currency in Sarah's world. He stalked to the front desk, threw the bills at the man standing there without counting them, and was swiftly out the door.

Sarah and Marcus were still outside the restaurant, he noticed. He felt a grim smile stretch the skin tight across his cheekbones as he strode up to them.

"Are we having a tiff?" He drawled.

Sarah whirled to face him, flipping her hair out of her eyes. He swallowed down his admiration at the sight of her, tall and defiant under the bright glow of the streetlamp. Marcus sneered from behind her.

"Are you too jealous to leave her alone for even a minute?" Marcus sneered. "How are you going to lave her here all by herself when you move so far away?"

Sarah shot him a glare. "You're not helping!"

Jareth took two more steps into the light. "No, he most certainly is not." His eyes narrowed as anger began to build within him. He felt the magic that held him together in Sarah's foreign world begin to fluctuate and he ruthlessly clamped down on it.

"Look, he doesn't understand what's going on. He doesn't know who you are!" She growled, moving to stand in front of Marcus - to protect the mortal from his righteous royal wrath.

"There is nothing to understand," he cut her off mid-tirade. "You are mine and you are coming home with me." He settled one hand on his hip, offering the other for her to grasp. "Now, come, Sarah Williams. Leave this petty, overly-familiar mortal."

Indefinable emotions flashed through her eyes as she stiffened in the middle of her pool of light. "Did I miss a step here, oh mighty King?" She asked in all-too-innocent a tone.

The anger exploded inside of him, and the magic strained at his self-imposed bonds. The wind began to whip around him and when he spoke his voice had dropped one octave lower. "Sarah," he cautioned in that dangerous tone, "you're acting like a child."

"Me? Childish?" She asked, throwing her hands to the sky. "You're calling me childish?" She laughed.

Jareth grit his teeth and growled, in the process losing his tenuous hold on the wild Labyrinthian magic of his soul. He flickered, and moaned at the strength of the pull. Sarah let out a short scream, running to him. Jareth grabbed at the shreds of his strength, catching onto her arms as she knelt before him. She was crying.

"I'm all right," he assured her, trying to breathe normally.

"What is this?" Marcus asked in a ragged, disbelieving voice.

"Marcus," Sarah said, eyes widening. She tried to pull Jareth into her arms, to protect him from the other man's sight.

Distracted, Jareth lost the fight. Blackness filled his vision and with a gasp he surrendered. He felt the world twist beneath his feet and the next thing he knew he was lying in a copse of leaves beneath the orange-red sky of the Labyrinth.

He relaxed against the soft, familiar soil, soaking up the magic of his land like a dry sponge soaked up water.

Soon enough, he knew, he would be strong enough to return to her world - for the few hours he could visit. It was a matter of three maybe four hours. The King of the Goblins, still lying in a dirty pile of leaves, closed his eyes and slept.



"Am I supposed to believe that?" Marcus asked.

Sarah, still stalking restlessly in the empty space behind her couch, looked at him. "You don't believe me?"

He remained silent, looking almost lost.

"I don't have a way to prove it to you," she said, half-laughing, "but I tell you, it's true."

Marcus leaned back onto the two back legs of the chair he was seated on. "And you say our Mr. King, Mr. Peabody's Creative Director, is an immortal Fae king who came to the city to get you?" He shook his head. "Even you have to see how ludicrous this sounds," he told her.

Sarah brushed a hand through her hair. "It doesn't matter how I see it," she told him in a mutter, "because it's true!" Frustration set in - she knew it was hard to believe, but surely he held some fantasy in his soul!

She thought back to Jareth's collapse, his last reach toward her before he disappeared into the air. He would return - she felt it.

"Maybe I should leave," Marcus began.

Sarah looked at him. She considered pleading with him, trying to make him believe what he had seen - and what he hadn't. She knew she couldn't.

"Go on," she agreed, waving toward the door as she collapsed into a high-backed chair.

He looked at her, and she smiled at his obvious indecision. She opened her mouth, searching for something encouraging and witty to say... but froze.

A vision bloomed before her inner eye. A pure white speck against a blood-red sky. Her heartbeat thrummed in her ears and her breath caught in her throat as the white speck became a blotch, then was clearly identifiable. A snow-white owl, wings spread wide, the magic-fueled wind pushing him onward and upward.

"Jareth," she said. The image was gone.

She focused on Marcus' eyes, and saw annoyance jump into being. "Look," he said, tone less than nice, "I don't know what you're playing, but..." His eyes widened, his mouth dropping open. He started to backpedal.

Sarah turned, heart pounding. The plate glass window turned to glittering shards as she watching, raining down on the carpet beneath.

He flew into the room, transforming as he did so - so quickly it was almost instantaneous.

The time it was Sarah who backpedaled, right into Marcus' chest. He caught her, but absently. All his attention was on the fantasy figure standing before him.

He stood silent, arrayed in full king-mode. His hair was coiffed in flawless spikes, his eyes were shadowed neatly. He wore the black-on-black outfit that she had first seen him in.

Sarah found herself stepping forward, hand outstretched to touch him. She forced her feet to still. "You're all right," she murmured.

A smile cracked his rigid posture, and his eyes warmed as he shifted his attention to her. "Of course," he said, almost chidingly.

Sarah realized she was grinning like a fool.

"I'm dreaming." The dazed observation came from behind her.

She whirled. "See!" She exclaimed, gesturing at the king who stood before them in his dark majesty. "I told you!" Again, she was astonished at how childish she felt, and knew it was due to Jareth's presence. She quashed the urge to stick out her tongue and spit...

Marcus grabbed her arm, pulling her behind him. She let out a startled gasp and found herself facing his back.

"What do you want?" He demanded.

He's actually kind of sweet, Sarah thought. Protective. Then he spoke, making her heart pound hard against her ribs.

"I want my Queen," he said in a mild voice.

Sarah peeked over Marcus' shoulder. She wanted to jump out, tell Marcus to mind his own business and fling herself at Jareth, but somehow knew that the two males need to have this confrontation. She steeled herself to sit through it.

"Everything was true? You're the Goblin King?" He stuttered, still keeping himself between Sarah and the man dressed in back. "You kidnap babies?"

Jareth's brows, Sarah saw, came together. She could almost hear the snap as they collided. "I do not kidnap babies!"

Sarah met his eyes, shrugging a bit. Her smile was definitely on the sheepish side.

Jareth grumbled something under his breath, and Sarah was pleased that she couldn't hear it. It probably wasn't flattering.

"I thought you kidnapped her brother?" Marcus probed, glancing at Sarah.

"I did," Jareth affirmed, "but that's not what I do!"

Marcus looked confused.

"I grant wishes," Jareth said, punctuating the statement with a snap of his fingers. A crystal appeared in his hand. He proceeded to twirl it, spin it across his fingertips.

Marcus was dutifully enthralled.

"I can give you your dreams," Jareth promised him.

"Jareth," Sarah barked, jumping to Marcus' rescue as she realized what was happening. It was all well and good to let the two of them fight it out, but they both had to play fair!

Jareth looked at her, fingers never stopping. He smiled coolly, "Yes, my dear?"

"You don't have to do this!" She told him.

His mouth hardened, becoming a thin, flat strip. The crystal's dance became almost violent. "I don't have to do anything," he said haughtily.

Sarah strove to look properly humbled, but failed. A laugh escaped.

Jareth growled at the sound. He turned to Marcus. "I could entrap him forever, you know," he said tightly.

"I know you could," Sarah agreed, coming close enough to touch him. "I also know you won't," she said with confidence.

His eyes became shuttered. "Oh?" He drawled dangerously.

Sarah leaned forward, one hand casting out, trying to grab the crystal he toyed with. He pulled it from her reach. Marcus' eyes followed the movement.

It hurt. She turned her back to him, unwilling to let me see how much. She walked in a short, restless circle, pushing at Marcus' chest in a futile effort to break the spell he was wrapped in. There was no use.

The tension escalated, leaving Sarah on the verge of wondering how she was able to breathe.

"You needn't torture him," she said finally, daring to meet Jareth's blue eyes.

"Oh no?" Jareth questioned. The crystal paused one brief second in its flight, then he regained his composure. A second crystal joined the first.

One quick glance at Marcus assured her he remained ensorcelled.

"I told you that he was not your competition," she reminded him, trailing one finger in a light path down a bone-pale cheek. She stopped, looking deep into his eyes. "Are you going to ask me again?" She prompted.

He watched with those empty, cut-off eyes, mouth twitching slightly. "What can you offer me?"

She was shocked, turned, mind searching frantically for a reply. Her gaze fell on the pulsing crystal he had set on her end table two weeks before and left untouched since.

She grabbed it, surprised at the warmth of it. She had always thought, for some reason or another, of his crystal creations being cold and fragile. She had never before touched one, though. The heat and solidity of it were unexpected.

She turned to face him, cradling her prize in one palm - a palm that twitched with the triumph swelling up inside of her.

"Perhaps," she countered softly, "I can give you your dreams."

Jareth had looked. He looked as caught as a deer in the proverbial headlights. "Perhaps you can," he agreed in an equally soft, if strained, voice.

Confident, she twisted the crystal in her hand. It glided over her skin - she could almost hear the humming of the power it held. Its glow began to intensify, though not by much.

She offered it to him, much as he had once offered her a very similar gift.

He made no move to claim it - even leaned a bit backwards to avoid contact with it. The crystals in his hands clicked together.

"What," she asked, bewildered. She thrust the crystal at him once more. "Don't you want your dreams?"

"Of course!" He said, eyes flying to meet hers.

She withdrew her hand. "Oh." Silence. "Let him go, please?"

The crystals whirred in his hands, slowed, then stopped.

Marcus shook his head, eyes blinking wildly.

Jareth sidestepped him, coming up flush against Sarah. She looked up at him, clutching the crystal that warmed her palm in a tight fist. He was amused at the protective grasp.

"Would you really give me my dreams, Sarah?" He asked.

She answered without hesitation. "If I could."

A smile crossed his face, he slid his arms around her waist and leaned down until his lips were almost touching hers.

"Will you marry me, my soul mate?" The question echoed at once in her ears, her mind, and her heart.

She felt herself smile widely, and flung herself against him. "Yes!" She cried.

Triumph flared in his eyes, then his mouth settled on hers and the world disappeared, burned to ashes.... Burned as...

Sarah jumped back as she realized it was her hand that was burning. She flung it wildly, yelping, trying to drop the crystal was that boring into her palm. Try as she might, she couldn't dislodge it.

For a moment Jareth looked worried, but he quickly realized what was going on.

Sarah stared at her hands. They were glowing! The crystal was vibrating, getting hotter, but she couldn't make herself put it down. She looked at the Goblin King. "Help me!"

He took her shoulders, holding her, pulling her close to him. "It's all right, Sarah. It will be over soon."

"What's going on?" She asked, then gasped as the crystal broke with a small poof.

Her mind was filled with blurred colors, and she was engulfed in a warm, loving embrace. Light soared through her. She found herself in a bright place and looked around, seeing echoes of Jareth on every side. Each one wore a tender smile. Words were chanted over and over and after some straining she realized it was Jareth's voice saying "I love you," over and over.

She sighed in complete happiness, only then realized that Jareth was still holding her in his arms. The brilliant white place had gone, but she knew that it was inside of her - that it had become a part of her.

She looked up at him, and he smiled back down at her. It was an open, carefree, loving smile.

"What was that?" A ragged voice asked.

Sarah couldn't believe she had forgotten about Marcus! She pushed herself out of Jareth's embrace.

"Are you all right?" She asked her friend. She looked at him closely. "Are you blushing?"

Jareth came up behind her. "Maybe there was a bit of spillover," he suggested with a smirk.

"Spillover?" Sarah asked. She had a sneaking suspicion of what that meant and found she didn't particularly like it. "What was in that crystal?"

"My heart," he said simply.

Sarah wanted to kiss him, to throw her arms around him and hug him tight. She actually took a step toward him with the intention of doing just that. Then she looked at Marcus' face.

"Do you understand now?" She asked him.

Eyes wide, he nodded.

They looked at each other in silence, then Sarah found herself in his arms, tears at the corners of her eyes yet again.

"I'll miss you," he said.

"Me too," she confessed.

"Sarah," Jareth said, holding a hand forward. "We should leave."

She nodded. He still needed to recharge some. She placed her hand in his and nodded to Marcus.

"What about the presentation tomorrow?" He asked.

Sarah and Jareth looked at each other, smiling.

"Don't worry," the Goblin King's voice echoed around the room even as he and his bride faded away. "We'll make it." Then they were gone.



"Was dinner to your liking?" He asked, coming to stand behind her.

Sarah smiled at him, then turned back to the landscape that stretched out beneath their bedroom window. Her bedroom now. "It was fine," she answered him.

"What's wrong?" He asked, shifting her hair to one side. His lips settled on the curve of her neck, making her shiver.

Sarah shifted from one foot to the other, leaning into her new husband's touch. She still couldn't believe it was true, though he swore that they had been married with her acceptance of his love. Everything had a sheen of unreality about it, a sense of fantasy. It was amplified by the strange, half-familiar Labyrinth she was looking at.

Jareth lifted her into his arms - she shrieked in surprise. Laughing, he carried her to the bed, throwing her upon it. She sank deep into the pillowed softness. He leaned over her, crawling on the bed and peppering her face and neck with soft kisses.

She laughed, but her gaze traveled beyond him. She focused on the dark velvet hangings on the bed, tracing the spiraled pattern imprinted on the fabric with her eyes.

He noticed her inattention.

"What's going on," he asked, playfulness disappearing.

Sarah looked at him, pulling the warmth of his love without her close about herself. HE grew still, eyes darkening with concern.

"I don't know," she confessed in a whisper. "It's just..."

"Just what?" Jareth held her close. "Tell me."

She closed her eyes, savoring the feel of being in his arms. The previous two weeks were fading slowly, as if they - and her world - were the fantasies.

"Sarah," he said warningly, "It's a little late to be getting cold feet."

Her eyes flew open. "Never!" She snuggled against him, planting a firm kiss on his aristocratic lips. "I love you."

"Umm," he said, taking the kiss deeper for a brief space of time, then breaking free. "That's nice to hear."

"I was thinking about how you saved my life," she confessed.

He looked at her quizzically.

"On the roller coaster," she supplied.

"Did you want me to let you die?" He asked with a chuckle. "I know some culture's put much stock in such a happening, but I'm not going to insist you become my slave," he assured her in mock-seriousness.

Sarah groaned. "That's not it," she said with a laugh.

"You don't want to be in my debt?" He asked with a strangely attractive pout.

Sarah hung her had, laughing helplessly. "Jareth!"

He twisted her in his arms. "That's better."

"You're being... tender!" Sarah exclaimed, clapping her hand over her mouth as soon as the words had escaped. "That didn't sound good."

Jareth raised one lazy eyebrow. "Did you think I had no feelings?"

"I didn't know what to think," she said. "I can't say I had really seen your gentle side."

"That is true," he mused, tracing the curve of her eyebrow with a gentle fingertip. "But I am not an ogre."

Sarah smiled. "I know." She sank into his kiss, reveling in each new sensation. She had kissed men before, but somehow, it had never before been like this.

"What was that crystal, by the way?" She asked as the kiss broke off.

"A soul crystal," he replied, quickly explaining what it was.

Sarah frowned as she understood, sighing.

"What is it?" The 'now' was left unsaid, but still clearly heard.

"I had wondered if I could give one to you," she confessed, "but I suppose that's impossible."

The look she saw in his eyes was priceless. Shock, surprise... love... all mixed together.

He thrust his head against her shoulder, hugging her close. "Oh, sweet thing," he said raggedly. "I know you love me."

They held each other close, hearing the shrieks and snorts of the Labyrinth's denizens penetrate the silence. From not-too-far below came the raucous laughter of his majesty's court of goblins.

Sarah started with a particularly loud crash, sitting bolt upright in the bed.

Jareth sighed. "You'll get used to it." He kissed the corner of her lips seductively. "Now... I'd thank you to remember we have a meeting to attend on the morrow, and that I am entirely too exhausted to re-order time this eve." His hand slid into her hair.

With a giggle, Sarah acquiesced to his wishes. She was entirely pleased to do so.



"It's a shame that ya'll are both going to be leaving," Mr. Peabody commented, shaking his head. He tapped the folder of the newly-approved designs with a blunt finger. "Ya'll make a mighty fine team - all three of ya."

"Thank you, sir," Mr. King said.

Peabody turned to him. "I'm happy for you, my boy, she's a pretty lady." He smiled at Sarah.

"Well, I'll take my leave. Ya'll have managed to do exactly what I wanted. I'm more a cattle man, myself," he confessed, "but my late wife, now she was a reader. The line is name after her." He fingered the gold embossed letter on the folder. Melisande.

"She always wanted to write," he said, "but she never got around to it." He shrugged off the melancholic tone that had crept into his speech. "Ya'll have done her proud," he congratulated them one more time, stuffing the folder in his genuine leather briefcase. "I'm sure that she'd be proud of ya'll for nabbing what you want, too," he looked at Jareth, then at Sarah, then went toddling through the door, leaving the silent group behind.

"Will he remember us?" Sarah asked.

Jareth shook his head. "He's already forgotten, I'm afraid."

"It's time for both of you to leave, isn't it?" Marcus asked. He hadn't spoken much that morning, and still looked somewhat pale.

Sarah nodded. "I think I got everything," she sighted. "My apartment?" She asked, looking at the Goblin King.

"Everything had been taken care of," he assured her.

"Well, that's it, then," she said, looking at Marcus. "Maybe I'll see you around some time," she ventured. They both knew it wasn't likely.

Jareth nodded to the other man, and Sarah settled her hand in his elbow. "Come," Jareth said, looking down at her. Love shone from his eyes, and the magic trickled free.

"Wait!" Marcus cried, jumping forward. "Take me with you!"

Jareth dropped his hand, the transportation spell falling apart. "What?" He asked, incredulous.
"Let me come with you," Marcus repeated.

"You want to go to the Labyrinth?" Sarah asked.

He nodded.

Sarah glanced at Jareth, asking silently.

"Do you understand what you're asking?" Jareth began. "I can't promise to ever return you, and there are monsters in my land as well," he cautioned.

"Sarah said it was wonderful," Marcus said, undeterred. "It can't be that back if you live them. I have no family or friends to miss me." He paused. "Please."

The king studied his would-be subject, then nodded decisively. "Take Sarah's hand," he instructed.

Marcus did. Sarah held on tightly, smiling at her friend. "Just stay out of the bog," she told him as the magic engaged and they were whisked from the conference room.



THERE IS AN EPILOGUE
TO BE CONTINUED...........