Disclaimer - I do not own Jareth, the labyrinth, or anything I havn't made up. However, I do own Deborah, Roxy, The Storyline, And anything I HAVE made up.

-

-

-

-

-

-

"Thank goodness for that. Half of me thought you were actually going to wear a frock."

"Look, I might be a brain dead halfwit, but I'm not stupid!" Jareth laughed, looking down at what she was wearing. Calf length jeans, a white belted shirt, and jet black high heels. Over her arm was a black felt trench coat. He eyed her footwear and internally groaned, but before he could protest, she spoke.

"So, where are you taking me?" She grinned.

"I said before, it's a suprise." He winked at her and her stomach flipped. "But just before we go, I warn you now, you're feet will be no more if you wear those." He said indicating the shoes.

"Tough too-ta's kingy, I'm wearin' 'em." She smiled and took the arm he offered her. They looked an odd pair, and Deborah's stomach was fluttering about in apprehension and excitement about where she was going.

"Suit yourself. Don't say I didn't warn you." He said as they set off towards the main entrance.

When they reached it, Jareth stopped. Again there was no carriage sitting at the end of the sunny drive. Deborah was glad, because a carriage normally meant she had to go somewhere posh and royal, which she really didn't like. The king turned to her and grinned boyishly.

"Take my hands."

Deborah eyed his suspiciously. "Take them. They won't hurt you." He smiled, offering his gloved fingers to her. She gripped them apprehensivly. "Close your eyes."

Instead of closing them, Deborah widened them. "For goodness sake girl, what do you take me for?!" Jareth sighed impatiently.

"Fine, fine, don't get your royal boxers in a twist." Deborah snapped, closing her eyes and biting back a nervous giggle. Jareth smiled.

"And...open them." Jareth whispered. Suddenly, there was lots of noise around Deborah, and she blinked several times. They were standing by some gates, surrounded by normal, aboveground people, in a normal, aboveground street. It looked very familiar. She read the sign next to the gates. "HYDE PARK." It hit her. He'd bought her to london, her favourite city, for her birthday.

She spun round to see Jareth grinning behind her. Although, she stepped back, he looked a lot different. His hair was in a short, straight blonde bob around his angular features, and his eyes were shaded with dark glasses. He wore black jeans, and black shoes, and a grey trench coat, similar to hers. It felt strange to be with him in such a human surrounding.

Her head wasn't quite round it, and she was waiting to wake up. Although, if she did, she'd still like to be in Jareth's bed, she decided. She grinned and leaped at him, hugging him and whispering thank-you's in his ear. When she pulled back, he spoke.

"So, you don't mind spending your birthday here then?"

"Like hell I do!" She grinned.

XXXXX

Deborah layed back, and let the sun beat down on her face. It was suprisingly warm for the first of March. Jareth lie next to her, soaking up the late afternoon sun. Both their coats lie in a heap at the side of the pale blue picnic blanket they were lying on. A basket sat at their feet, and the distant sound of childrens voices echoed from the trees far below.

They lay in a secluded area of the park, far above the huge lake, in what seemed to be just an expanse of green space. They'd eaten lunch, and now they were just relaxing. Birds sang above, and Deborah was really quite content where she was.

She seemed to forget about everything except the company she was in, until Ian crept back into her mind. The vacant look on his face when he told her, the way he just left her to cry there. Then she thought about how kind Jareth had been, and how safe she'd felt in his arms the previous night. Her eyes began to prickle, and soon a tear threatened to roll down her face.

She sat up, this action not going unnoticed by Jareth. She stood, and began to wonder around the picnic blanket on wobbly legs, looking out over the lake. Jareth sat up slowly and looked at her. She just stood now, her hand at her face.

He stood up and blinked at the spell of dizzyness that hit him. He walked over to where she was and wrapped his arms around her from behind. This only made more tears drip down her cheeks. Jareth tutted as she sank back gently. He breathed the air around him deeply. Less magic, he thought. He turned her around, earning no protest from her.

"Still hurting?" He whispered, wiping away tears with his gloved hands. She nodded and closed her eyes when he didn't pull his hand away. They were so close, yet still they seemed far away.

"You're just...there, arn't you? You've been so lovely to me and...bringing me here, and you've let me do what I want and...thank-you." She whispered.

"No need to thank me, you deserve all this." He said in a low voice.

"I hope you're real. Really, I do." She closed her eyes and stretched her head up towards his. She nuzzled her mouth to his, softly, not really sure what she was doing. He responded in the same way. He made kissing motions occasionally, to which she would return the action, until they'd both had enough of teasing. He cupped her face with both his hands and caught her lips, starting gently. Tounges flicked until his mouth was fully covering hers. Her hands reached up and circled his neck, stroking his shortened hair and his neck, whilst his held on to her waist. He seemed to be much taller than her today, and she even had heels on.

She tilted her head back, letting him deepen it even more. Nothing was going to stop her this time. Not Sarah, not Ian, not anyone.

He helped her hitch a leg on his hip, and he hauled her up so as she could get the other around as well. She sat there comfortably, their lips still battling, her hands running through his soft hair.

Jareth paused for breath, but just as he was about to go in again, she turned her head slightly and trailed soft kisses across his cheek, and all the way down his neck. She left it there and returned back to his mouth.

Still holding her, Jareth walked slowly back over to the picnic blanket, where they stood for a while. Deborah's hands rested on the top button of his shirt as they parted and he put her down. He looked down at his shirt and her hands. "Not to hasty." He said sneakily. She burst out laughing and he chuckled.

Deborah giggled as she stumbled back to their blanket, Jareth following suit. Jareth couldn't help but laugh."Well, that stopped you crying didn't it?" Jareth said, flopping back down, noticing that a cool breeze had crept up. She laughed toxicly, shivvering. "Come here." Jareth said, extending an arm. She cuddled up to him, her brain not quite comprehending where she was and what she'd just done. There she was, in the heart of london, her favourite city, that she recalled coming to every year with her father, with a man who looked the spitting image of David Bowie from another world, having just spent the day with him, and made out with him, and was now lying in his arms...again.

She thought back to the day they'd just had. They'd spent the morning wondering around, having a mid morning coffee in the lakeside cafe, before making their way up to their picnic spot and laying there for half an hour, and then eating their lunch. After that, they'd layed there and talked for a long time, and then this had happened. She sighed vocally, lifting her head so it was in the crook of his neck. She closed her eyes and breathed in, his scent making her drowsy.

"You know when I said 'when you don't love, you can't get hurt?"

"Yeas."

"I lied."

Jareth laughed. "I know."

She swatted at him. "You're not meant to suss me out!"

"Ah, but I do it so well."

"That's what you think."

"No, that's what I know."

"Smart arse."

XXXXX

Okay, there we are! That's my last update for a week, as I go on holiday tomorrow! I'll be writing whilst I'm away though. And getting more inspiration.

Love,

Q. x