And then everything stood perfectly still. Bruce was by her side, his arm around her waist and daring the djinn (of course he didn't know it was a real djinn) to touch her again with a dangerous glare. Amazingly, the djinn stopped, stared at Bruce for a long moment, and went off to find another victim.

Bruce dipped his head to her ear. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah…" Sarah said breathlessly. "I just need some air."

"Come on," Bruce grabbed her hand and led her to the balcony.

She looked carefully at him as he made his way through the crowd and to the large open windows that left them access to the long balcony facing the sprawling city. Sarah inhaled the cool air and instantly felt relieved. Away from the crowds, finally out of the penthouse with a man who had broken the spell of a djinn. He had managed to break the hold of a djinn over her.

"How?"

Bruce rubbed Sarah's back as she breathed deeply. "I promise no more parties like this for a while," he said.

"It is a little over the top," she sniffed. She looked at him from the corner of her eye and half smiled. "You're covered in glitter." He laughed under his breath as she turned and brushed a coat of glitter off his shoulders. "It doesn't suit you."

His smile widened even further, agreeing with her. He stared at her as she absently brushed tiny shimmers of gold from his suit – they drifted away in the wind – up and around them. His voice changed to a low murmur.

"You look absolutely beautiful."

Sarah really was a sight in her sumptuous black dress and her black hair still covered in a veil of gold. She was Salome again.

Bruce couldn't help himself. He bent his head and lowered his face to hers, intending to kiss her fully on the mouth.

Sarah instinctively snapped away, like she was prepared for this. "Do you really want to do this here?"

Bruce pulled away reluctantly, disappointed. They both knew that that moment would have been perfect – the night air, the energy of the party… it would have been so perfect, except that she was still very angry at him. But now was not the time to have it out. She figured that after warding off a djinn of all things, he deserved a break.

Add to the fact that Jareth was still here, somewhere.

She stared evenly at Bruce as he took a lock of black and gold hair and held it up so it could shimmer in the light. He sighed heavily. "Alfred is not going to like cleaning this up."

She opened and closed her eyes slowly, giving a shrewd smile. "I think it'll be okay."

Bruce looked at her, a fondness in him that she had never seen before deepening… accompanied by sadness in his voice. "You really do look beautiful tonight." He meant it.

Sarah smiled again, demurely this time. "Thank you."

He straightened then, and put on the mask of Bruce Wayne again. He crooked his arm to her. "Shall we return to the snake pit?"

Sarah looked at his arm and shook her head. "Not yet. A few more minutes out here and I should be fine."

"Sure," he smiled and touched her elbow, "I'll come back for you in a few minutes."

Sarah nodded and watched him saunter back into the party. She tossed her head in the wind. Bruce was right – it really was like a snake pit in there.

And as Bruce moved further into the party, and further away from her, she could undoubtedly sense him behind her now. She involuntarily drew her shoulders together as if expecting his hand there but when he touched her, he softly traced his gloved fingers down her neck and over her shoulder. She instinctively wanted to turn and look upon him, but she found that she was unable to move and stood frozen, slightly shaking.

Despite the constant talk and sporadic echo of laughter in the penthouse, there was the most palpable of silences between them. She kept her back to him and didn't say a word, only waited for him to speak.

"I forgot to tell you how stunning you look in your new gown."

Sarah found the strength to move and she turned around to face him. She stopped breathing for a moment when she did. He was dressed differently from before, yet exactly the way she remembered him when she first saw the black dress. His midnight black waistcoat glittered under the lights of the chandelier. A black satin shirt with diamond buttons was carelessly open halfway down; it clung to his lithe body. Trousers of the same midnight color and knee high black leather boots completed his ensemble. Even his hair held traces of black night. On his ivory-pale chest the crescent moon pendant shone almost indecently against all this darkness.

Her body suddenly became very warm. No man here in their expensive Italian and designer suits could compare to the Goblin King. Not even Bruce.

"Yes," she sneered, composing herself. "It fits like it was made just for me."

"That's because it was," he replied matter-of-factly.

"Of course."

Sarah brushed past him and moved to the ledge of the balcony. She was about to lean forward and sink against the ledge for support. Until she felt his hot breath on the back of her neck and his arms encircled her slender waist in an iron-grip. He pulled her close to his body, so close that she felt his pendant leaving marks between her shoulder blades, his whole body outlined against hers. She could feel every detail of him, from his hard thighs against hers and his naked breast through his almost unbuttoned shirt against her bare back. He breathed over her bare shoulder; tendrils of his hair brushed her cheek, they felt like silk on her skin.

He put his mouth to her ear. "A princess stands tall."

She didn't trust her legs anymore and leaned against him for support instead as wave after wave of heat washed over her. Before she had time to collect herself and answer he turned her around in his arms and she saw his thin lips, his sensual mouth. The rest of his face was in shadows that didn't reveal the expression of his eyes. She could only see them glimmer at her in the dark.

"And a queen stands above them all," he said proudly. "You know as well as I that you do."

Sarah's jaw clenched. She was so close to the edge of a raging fury, she could scream. Instead, she returned his hard stare and her voice trembled with a cold malice that surprised even her. "What if I told you I could never come to love you no matter what? That I could never come to love someone so different from me, that I know for a fact I would hate you. That I might hate you even now?"

He was silent, looking at her with hooded eyes. Then, his eyebrows drew together in a look of slight exasperation, but also slight amusement. He finally shrugged. "Irrelevant. My feelings for you wouldn't change. As much as I sometimes would want them to."

"There's a fine line between love and hate, Sarah. Perhaps I did hate you once."

Sarah felt a chill go through her body. Just like the one she felt when she first heard him say that to her, a long time ago it seemed.

Jareth's eyes gave her a thoughtful look, then continued. "And don't you dare try and tell me that you're different from who I am, from what I am. You are just as cruel and cold-hearted..." His mouth dipped again, his voice lilting in her ear. "You could be a remarkable woman of power."

Sarah finally pushed him away from her. "No. My answer will always be the same – I can't and I won't do it." She back away from him, more and more until she could see him more clearly. She felt like she was looking at a pale, marble statue of moonlight and black night. She felt chills run through her body for the second time; unfortunately it was not from the cold. Why was he still so beautifully radiant even at night?

Sarah shook herself mentally. No. She couldn't. She had been given one opportunity after another to grab power for herself. But she was still the mortal woman who believed in good. Even in a city crawling with shadows like this one… And he was still the Goblin King and a villain. But she knew if she only reached out for a moment, he would take her and love her…

She shook her head and turned away with barely concealed exhaustion. "You knew how it had to end in the Labyrinth. I couldn't change it. I couldn't change the rules… the story…"

"Yes, I did know how it had to end," Jareth replied, coming to her side. He leaned forward, resting his hands on the marble railing, and looked out over Gotham, as if it were his kingdom. "As much as I denied it, I did know."

She quietly absorbed everything Jareth had said, but now there were tears that threatened her eyes. "Why? Out of everyone else…" she glanced at the revelry in the penthouse and at the overly dolled-up women vying for a man's attention. "Why me?"

"You understood my world even better than I," Jareth said, still looking out over the city. You weren't a small girl, you were a young woman with a child's mind. I thought it was perfect; someone who could finally understand me and the life, the duty that was given to me. I thought I could give the child that was in you the idea that you could have a fairy-tale life with me. But that was the story. You had to grow up. You had to refuse me…"

Jareth turned to her, and quick and stealthy as a hunter, he pressed a gloved hand to the small of her back and pulled her towards him. He laughed when Sarah braced herself again under his hold - one arm around her back, the other hand at her waist – and looked at her, his eyes gleaming and his lips parted.

"But that was the story that was written long before you were even born," he murmured. "We make our own story now."

He tipped his head downward, intending to kiss her. "Wait, Jareth," she said, her lips a breath away from his jaw. She felt him take a breath, then another…

"You don't have to love me," she tried halfheartedly. It was so hard to think when he was like this.

His face was sphinx-like, beautifully pale in the moonlight. "Unfortunately, or fortunately, how ever way you put it; that was in the original tale. Consider it a footnote that made its way into the sequel." His mouth came ever closer to hers. "A sequel of our own…"

Sarah fought for words. Anything to keep him from kissing her. She would be lost if she felt his lips on hers again.

"I don't love you," she forced out. The words felt like small pinpricks in her heart.

And Sarah's eyes suddenly widened in alarm as Jareth growled from the back of his throat, snaked an arm further around her waist, and brought her against the full length of his body with a rough jerk, frightening and exciting her at the same time.

Her hands came up to his chest, trying to push herself away, without much avail. She stared upward and found his face twisting into rage, his mouth set in that menacing scowl that froze Sarah's blood.

"I can make you love me," he hissed. His voice had changed into a dark, dangerous snarl.

His mouth finally dove in to devour her, but Sarah was quicker than he was. She twisted her face away in disgust, barely dodging his lips. "No!" She shoved him with all her might and broke away, pushing herself backwards.

"No…" She gritted her teeth and looked him in the eyes, they were flaring as brightly as the djinn's; lit in a horrible way, flaming and feral and gleaming with magic – a boiling, seething magic, whirling around Jareth, who glared at her, his whole body tense with fury.

"You desire him so greatly," Jareth hissed, stalking toward her in a manner that made her turn a little pale. She put up her hands to ward him off, but Jareth grabbed her wrists and held them in his steel grip.

His hold was painful, and Sarah tried to struggle against him. But froze at the stark whiteness of his face, his hair flaring molten silver against the darkness that howled around him like an ice storm.

"You desire a mortal man who has betrayed you from the first!" He roughly turned her away from him. "Then take him!" He violently pushed her from behind, slamming her into something solid. Or rather someone solid.

Sarah gasped aloud and pushed herself away from this strong, impenetrable pillar that would not move. She looked up, and found that she could not move again.

Batman stood in front of her, as frightening and daunting as ever. A demon of the night… He breathed evenly, glaring down at her, but didn't seem to recognize her. She knew right away that this was an illusion of Jareth's so he could make a point.

"Not what you expected is he, Sarah?" he mocked from behind her. "No one and nothing ever is."

She opened and closed her mouth, trying to find something coherent to say. "I… I don't understand." She did, but she didn't believe it.

"Look harder," Jareth obviously didn't buy her words either. "You know it's true."

Sarah gazed hard into Batman's eyes. Underneath the gleaming obsidian of his eyes, there was certainly a touch of gray…

"Enough," she said, inclining her head to Jareth behind her. "You want me to see something that's not true."

"Come, Sarah!" he was past the point of impatience. "You've always known. Yet you continue to doubt yourself."

Sarah flinched hard when Jareth's voice spoke in her ear again. "I have tricked you many times, yes, but I have never once lied to you…"

Batman's image faded from sight, his hooded eyes were the last to disappear.

Sarah stared at where Batman had been standing, feeling her entire body flooding with a red hot anger. She was so furious and confused she wouldn't be surprised if steam began to seep out of her skin. She whipped around to face Jareth and bared her teeth at him, barely containing a scream.

Screaming would do no good. But turning her back on him would.

As she walked past, he reached his hand out and grasped hers. Without thinking, Sarah twisted around and clamped her hand over his own wrist. And they both stared at each other at the electric shock that went through the both of them. Jareth's eyes flashed down to his wrist and then back at her again. Sarah dropped her gaze to her hand that grew colder and colder until it burned like ice. She tore her arm away easily and cradled it close to her chest, still stinging from her frozen touch.

Now she was scared. What had she just done? She did that, not Jareth.

"He would not be looking like that if he did…"

She stared down at her numb hand, her brain reeling… She finally wrenched herself away and bolted from the balcony, a flying fury of rage.

"SARAH!!!"

Jareth's voice rose into a howl; a cyclone that would have shattered the glass of every window and would wail throughout the entire penthouse. No one heard it but her – it overtook the sounds of music, applause, laughter and chatter, people moving all around her, blurs of color and sound – she nearly broke into a run through the crowd. She was racing back to her room to contain herself. The last thing she wanted was for one of her co-workers, or worse, her friends to see her like this.

She heard her name again and ran faster, gathering her skirt up. Whether it was Jareth or Bruce calling her name, she didn't know, and didn't really care.

She finally reached her room and threw herself inside. She slammed the door behind her and panting, she stopped, and pressed her back against the door.

This wasn't her room.

"No…"

She stood at the threshold of a fantastic ballroom lined with mirrors and gilded chandeliers. Rows of mirror-coated octagonal pillars rose to a vaulted, mirrored ceiling far above. She heard a soft click beneath her feet, and the polished floor began to move like a slow turntable.

Sarah lost her balance for a moment and stumbled back on her feet, her arms out to the side for balance as she traipsed out across the room, her million reflections waltzing with her into infinity.

The floor worked like the gears of a clock and the mirrors followed the circular motion with their own dance around Sarah.

She whipped around to find an exit, but her bedroom door had become a part of the ballroom. There was no way out.

Directly across from her was a mirror that was not moving and was larger than the others. Her unmoving reflection was in its untarnished surface, and she finally saw herself covered with gold that shimmered like a million tiny stars on her hair and skin. Sarah blinked in the bright light, gazing at her reflection.

Her sumptuous dress of black was a remarkable contrast in all the gold surrounding her, but the glitter that still clung to her skin and hair made her sparkle in the light. Sarah peered closer, there was something wrong with her reflection, with the mirror. She stepped across to it.

Her reflected self began to smile. But she was not smiling! Sarah writhed in horror, but she couldn't pull away from the mirror. In it, her grin widened, insane. Her eyes became someone else's, lit with such wickedness.

The octagonal, mirror-lined pillars cast and re-cast her reflection throughout the room. Sarah was everywhere in plain sight, but hidden by the very infinity of her images.

"Why do you want me?" she screamed. The reflection didn't share her scream. The reflected Sarah stood there, hands hanging, silent.

Sarah exhaled in shuddering fear, waiting for something. The reflected Sarah mouthed something compelling, something the real Sarah felt she should say with it:

"Marked by a King…"

Sarah touched a hand to her lips, blinking. That had not been her voice. Someone else was in the room with her. She looked back and around her – nothing but a million of her own moving reflections. She looked back at the mirror, and sucked in her breath. There, looking back at her, was Jareth.

His hands held her still and caressed her shoulders sending tingles down her arms and body. She shivered as she leaned back into the arms behind her. She felt his hands moving slowly over her skin sending waves of fire throughout her being. Her mind felt foggy, as if she was being drugged.

Sarah watched, her lips parted, in the mirror, as Jareth brushed his lips over her shoulder, and up to the curve of her neck, then gently kiss the skin just underneath her earlobe, tasting her sweet flesh.

She opened her mouth to protest, and in a flash, Jareth turned her around fully in his arms and finally crashed his lips to hers.

Sarah roughly pushed herself away again, only by mere inches, but still ripping the contact between them.

Jareth smiled against her mouth as she gasped for air. "Don't try and run from me," his voice was dark as night. "We are the same. And I will always find you."

She heard him take a rasping breath, and then bent to kiss her collarbone, trailing his mouth up her neck, tipping her head back - and then bit her gently on the chin. She twitched; he laughed and licked the corner of her mouth, then kissed her fully. Sarah felt him ease her lips open, as he deepened the kiss. A smooth, coaxing sensation – like the texture of melted chocolate – ran down her throat, down her chest, and finally uncurled in her stomach.

Sarah's resolve was failing her as he manipulated her body with his touch, his hands leaving her arms as they maneuvered skillfully over her skin. Her eyes fluttered shut as she was overwhelmed by pure pleasure. She slumped against him, her will slowly dying. Her world seemed to be tumbling down around her as her senses went into overdrive. Not only was she feeling the pleasure that he was delivering to her body but she could distinctly feel his satisfaction in giving it.

He paused, drawing back to look into her eyes, and the alien of his own had darkened to midnight.

"Do you know how beautiful you are to me, Sarah?" he asked her. "Do you know what you do to me?" He grasped her face in his hands in one swift, almost delirious motion. "You are more precious than my days," he breathed unto her skin. "You are more beautiful than my dreams…" Her eyes moved to his and the hungry, desperate look on his face stopped her heart.

He took a hard grip over her neck and forced her to turn her face up to him. He sucked at her lower lip and bit her, just hard enough to make her cry out. He slid his tongue into her open mouth and urgently probed every corner of it.

Her entire body was on fire; a fire making its way relentlessly from her thighs over her belly and breasts to the beating pulses on her throat and finally reaching her swollen lips. She opened her eyes again and looked at his face through her lashes. She found that she couldn't, wouldn't withdraw. His touch was achingly arousing and he was killing her with it. She knew and could see that none of this escaped him. Lust, desire, naked hunger, all feelings played like light and shadows on his face and something else, extremely terrible and frightening was there in his eyes. He scared her, he taunted her and she wanted him so badly that she was shaking with the need.

"Come here," he said quietly. He took her hand in his gloved one and turned her back around to the same mirror that Sarah's reflection had smiled back at her. Circling her waist with an arm, he drew her body against his. Despite her better judgment, she instinctively leaned into him, wanting more contact.

"Do you feel what you do to me?" His deep voice in her ear sent shivers racing down her spine. He pressed against her more firmly. "Look at yourself, Sarah."

Sarah looked. His hand loosened on her waist to lay flat against her stomach as his other hand ran up the side of her body. She watched him, fascinated, as he stroked his hand up her body; he ran a light fingertip across her bare collarbone, tracing the line of her cleavage down until the bust of her dress stopped him again and he skipped down to circle her ribcage.

Sarah's eyes fluttered closed, her breath quickening. His hand suddenly left her body. "You aren't looking, Sarah," he said, his voice in her ear dousing her body in heat. Her eyes fluttered open again, gazing at his own beautiful face in the mirror. Her mouth parted as she began to breathe harder. She leaned further back, allowing both of his hands to wander all over her body. One moved to her hip and the other further up, ghosting above her breasts.

She studied their reflection in the mirror, her body draped half-dressed over his, the wanton flush on her face, the glazed look in her eyes. And his hands - those wonderful, clever hands, reaching across and caressing her skin. She steadied herself by grasping his hips as he inserted one leg between hers, pushing her thighs apart. Her blood started to pound between her legs in rhythm with the raging beating of her heart.

She saw his smiling mouth, but when she looked into his smoldering eyes they were far from amused. Instead she recognized his carnal hunger, his terrible desire and craving for her, and she caught her breath with a hitching sound in her throat.

"You want me, Sarah." His voice was smoke, fanning her desire higher. He leaned in closer, his mouth brushing her ear and speaking into her very essence. "You set my body on fire, and melt my heart and soul."

Tears were welling up, she bit her lips so hard she tasted blood. She wanted him and this to happen so terribly. She knew she couldn't resist much longer…

Something flashed at the corner of her eye. It looked red – with a flicker of blue.

Jareth suddenly wrapped one arm around her waist and the other grasped her hand. With a rough sigh, he lifted her easily into his arms and spun her around the floor, with a dance of their own.

Her back was still against his chest, but it felt as if he were twirling her through water. He lifted her hand and spun her around to face him in one deft motion. The floor moved beneath them, Sarah only had to follow Jareth's lead.

Another flash of bright red – a cape reflected a million times over.

Sarah's focus became blurred as dark music began to play from everywhere - tiny bells turning into a full orchestra of a music box melody she knew so well. Their dark reflections followed them everywhere, turning and spinning with them.

She caught another color – blue and yellow.

Her skirt whirled and their hair flowed together in the gusts of magic that surrounded them. Faster and faster until she became too dizzy to stay on her own feet.

A rush of red again, but this time, a set of mirrors on the other side of the room captured a black, scalloped cape.

"Let me go." She was breathing too heavily. Jareth's grip had become too tight.

He kissed her temple. "Not yet."

"Stop…" She tried to pull away. She didn't know which way is up.

Two figures came into full view against the rapid blur of gold and reflected silver. Her diamond flew out of the top of her dress and gleamed brightly in the light. Her vision became almost normal again as she recognized one man in the mirrors dressed in black and the other man in brilliant red, blue, and yellow.

She finally had the strength to break away from Jareth's dance. But she didn't have the capacity to stand on her own feet, her head was still spinning, and she fell to the ground on her side.

The music, mirrors, and the floor all stopped when she hit the ground.

Sarah gasped for air, her body was visibly shaking, her chest heaving as she tried to calm her racing heart and her racing mind.

Jareth stood where he was and looked down at her, his face becoming inscrutable.

"I…" Sarah took another breath. "I am not the villain."

The spell was broken. The bright, golden light faded into one dim light in a far corner as the mirrors shattered and crashed down around her. From the broken frames and plates that held their glossy surfaces came the walls of her bedroom.

She was still sprawled on the floor when she whipped her head around to the only mirror that was left standing – the one that stood at her vanity. The golden glitter was gone. Her hair, skin, and dress were completely cleansed of it.

But in the mirror, Jareth smiled at her before he vanished.

AN: End of Part 3. I can;t tell you the number of times I had to listen to Cirque du Soleil's Alegria to help me through this. I hope to get the next chapter up soon. Thanks to the few who are still reading! If you miss action scenes, they'll be coming soon.

Shalom y Amor