AN: The way I've outlined this story in my head, I don't envision many chapters left. I'd say anywhere from one to three, depending on how it all plays out. You know how it goes, you write one thing, the characters say 'guess again' and there you are at 2 AM wondering where the hell you went wrong. Definitely not talking from experience…

Disclaimer: I do not own the Labyrinth.

Frequencies and Currents

Chapter Nine

Intermission

Sarah started, rocking back in her chair so hard, she nearly fell over backwards. Her life practically flashed before her eyes before she righted herself. Blinking furiously, she absentmindedly wiped at the dried drool on the corner of her mouth. With a belated sigh, she realized she had fallen asleep at the library, and it sadly enough wasn't the first time. Probably won't be the last, she thought morosely.

Barely a soul lingered at the library, and casting a glance at her wristwatch, Sarah let out a small groan. It was almost midnight. Even Sarah had to admit that spending a Friday, her twenty first birthday weekend to boot, at the campus library was pretty pathetic. She knew Grace would be up when she got back, and she also knew she'd get the mocking of a lifetime.

"Well, better get it over with," Sarah grumbled, hoisting her overfilled backpack over her shoulders.

Stepping outside,, Sarah breathed in the cool, crisp night air. It was one of her favorite smells. The world seemed to be washed anew, fresh snow beginning to blanket the campus once more.

As she walked towards her apartment, Sarah couldn't help but feel something was...wrong. There was nothing concrete she could put a finger on, but nonetheless, it nagged at her the whole way back.

And sure enough, Grace was there, huddled on the couch watching old reruns of a sitcom, mug of tea clasped between her hands. Her attention was so raptly held by the television screen, that Sarah thought briefly of making a sneaky escape to her bedroom. Quietly peeling off her boots and slipping out of her coat, Sarah gingerly picked up her backpack, getting ready to awkwardly tiptoe as fast as she could, until Grace called out without even turning her head.

"Not so fast, Williams."

Sarah stopped, closed her eyes, and mouthed a curse in defeat.

"Yeah, I know you think you're being an international spy of mystery," Grace drawled, finally craning her head to look over at Sarah, "but you should really stick to your day job of overeager college student."

Sarah frowned. "I'm not overeager."

"Sure."

Sarah rolled her eyes, deciding the jig was up. Dropping onto the couch next to Grace, Sarah made to grab for the bowl of popcorn before Grace swatted her hand away.

"You're so territorial," Sarah lamented.

"I don't share snacks, you know that," Grace remarked, slyly grabbing a fistful of popcorn and cramming it in her mouth for emphasis.

"Tea and popcorn? Really?" Sarah raised a brow before shrugging. It was best to not question certain things.

As they watched the sitcom in comfortable silence, Sarah soon began to think she was in the clear. And like Grace had some creepy telepathic powers, she set the bowl of popcorn back down on the coffee table.

"Now, onto matters for tomorrow night."

Sarah let out a childish groan of irritation. "No, please. Anything but that."

"UH UH!" Grace tutted. "Not a word out of you, Williams. And before you try to get out of anything, Julie, Rebecca, and Hannah already agreed to go to the club tomorrow night. It'd be so rude of you to decline an event that you're hosting," Grace gave a flip of her just above shoulder length jet black hair, the image of a haughty socialite. "And also, everyone knows that when there's a birthday girl in the group, free drinks." She shrugged her shoulders in a 'what can ya do?' motion.

"Oh, of course they already agreed! You guys have probably been plotting behind my back for weeks."

"Drastic times call for drastic measures," Grace retorted. "Besides, what's so bad about celebrating? It'll be fun! And just to make you feel extra good about the whole thing, your books and assignments will still be there afterwards. Fun, right?" She grinned with an eyeroll.

Sarah gave one in return but couldn't suppress a smile.

"Fine, you guys win. I'll be benevolent for one night."

"And everyone thanks you for it," Grace rejoined.

Sarah flicked the back of Grace's head as she retreated to her bedroom, relieved to see the sight of her warm, inviting bed.

In less than twenty minutes, Sarah was safely tucked under the covers. And then, her eyelids drifted shut, and she blissfully gave into the sweet surrender of dreaming.

"So what do you think?" Grace held up a short mini black dress and a sleek silver dress on either side of her, gazing thoughtfully into the mirror. "Or maybe…" she hummed, rummaging around her closet. "What if I wore this jumpsuit? Too much? Probably."

Sarah could barely get a word in, and she was honestly content to sit back on Grace's bed and watch her cycle through all her outfits.

"I thought that top was Julie's?" Sarah offered, watching as Grace scrutinized a sequin gold top.

"Ew, you're right. I wouldn't be caught dead in this. So Julie's taste."

"And by caught dead, you mean since last month, right? When you wore it?" Sarah lightly jabbed.

"Can it, birthday girl. Did you pick out what you're going to wear?"

"Of course."

"The black mini skirt and sparkly black tank?" Sarah nodded the affirmative. "Always a solid choice," Grace clucked appreciatively. "Now hurry up and get ready! Everyone else is coming over soon."

Within the hour, the group of girls were soon on their way to the club, laughing and making jokes at each others' expense. It felt good, Sarah idly thought, to have a careless night out. She was tired of thinking of books, papers, and projects that never seemed to end.

And quite frankly, she had a dream last night that had left her feeling anything other than rested. She couldn't recall everything, as dreams tended to fade from startling clarity to hazy moments etched onto one's mind, without any context to define it. But she remembered standing in a grassy field, the smell of smoke and electricity filling her nose. It was like the air around her had been charged and the danger of being shocked hung ever present. She also recalled staring into a sky full of stars, brighter than she had ever remembered, the city lights often outshining them, hiding them from view like a covetous lover. In a flash, faster than the blink of an eye, the stars had burned brighter and brighter, fascinating her and scaring her all the same, before they burst all at once. Stardust seemed to rain upon her as she lifted an arm to shield her face.

As if appearing out of nowhere, a lone figure stood several paces away, but only their silhouette was visible, as the sky had blown out all around them. As the light faded, she saw two mismatched eyes before he was gone from sight.

The last image from her disjointed recollection of the dream was that of a barn owl flying full speed toward her. Sarah remembered letting out a shriek as she lifted her arms back up in a defensive motion, fearful the bird would strike her.

And that was how she woke up, startled, sweating, and confused.

She had no idea what kind of symbolism that dream was all about, but it had lingered with her for most of the day, much to her annoyance. Sarah wasn't the type to think about dreams much; it's not like she sat around reading horoscopes all day or kept a dream diary.

But it unnerved her, and that alone made going out all the more a welcome relief.

"That is the ugliest shade of purple I have ever seen," Rebecca snarked, bringing Sarah out of her musings.

She was just in time to hear Hannah's retort as she concentrated on applying said offending lipstick on her lips with the aid of her small compact mirror. "Well, 'Becks, I'd say I care about your opinion, but this is the lipstick I wore when Connor Hendersen made out with me last week, so you can shove it."

"Ohhh, Connor Hendersen," Rebecca replied with sarcasm. "Well excuse the fuck outta me."

Hannah paused momentarily to smack Rebecca on the arm which earned a laugh out of her.

"You guys are children," Grace quipped before turning to stalk toward the bar. "Come on, Sarah! Those birthday shots are awaiting us!"

Sarah rolled her eyes but happily trailed after Grace's confident form pushing through the throng of people. Sarah normally hated being around crowds of people, but tonight, the energy felt contagious. And when the first shot of liquor hit the back of her throat, Sarah was all the more enchanted with the idea of letting go for a few hours.

As Hannah, Julie, and Rebecca meandered off to dance, Sarah and Grace stood by the bar, happily chatting with the bartender and each other.

It was a few moments later when Sarah got the sensation she was being watched. It was odd, given the amount of people around, but that little sixth sense tugged urgently, telling her to look. She didn't know where exactly, but as she glanced all the way at the other end of the bar, she saw a man leaning casually against it, eyes never once straying from her. He stared at her with such confidence that it was bordering on impolite.

Sarah scowled in response, earning a smirk from the man, which only infuriated her more.

With purpose, Sarah shifted so her back was to him, and continued laughing at Grace's story she had been telling. The moment with that man at the end of the bar had lasted for all the space of a moment, and Sarah readily forgot.

But then she noticed Grace's eyes shine with humor and mischief. "Sarah, I think a guy's coming over this way...here, look alive," and without warning, Grace reached up to pinch both of Sarah's cheeks, earning a yelp of surprise.

"Damn it, Grace!" She hissed, trying not to draw attention. "What was that for?"

"Putting a little color on your cheeks!" She yelled loudly over the music. "I'll leave you two alone," she added, hastily making a retreat.

Sarah arched a brow in confusion before whirling around to see the man from not minutes ago standing much closer than he had been earlier.

Whatever caustic comment Sarah had ready to launch died on her lips. His eyes were mismatched, and she was instantly reminded of her dream, unbidden. The smell of electricity and smoke was faint, but it seemed to stick out among everything else in the club, and Sarah nervously rubbed at her wrist, suddenly feeling apprehensive.

"I hear it's someone's birthday," his voice was smooth, like the caress of velvet against bare skin, and Sarah was enamored, much to her dismay. Distantly, she identified his accent as...British? Either way, Sarah felt her irritation slowly ebbing into mild curiosity and some embarrassment.

"Um, yeah…" She nervously tucked an errant strand of hair behind her ear before sipping at her drink.

"Let me buy you one," he stated, grinning as her cheeks flushed.

"No, really, that's okay," Sarah protested, pointing to the drink currently in hand. "I've still got a ways to go with this one."

"Hm, then the next one," he all but purred.

Sarah felt some of her irritation resurfacing. This guy clearly thought he could be as bold as he wanted. And maybe some of the irritation stemmed from the fact that it was working. At least a little.

The dream kept flashing in her mind, and Sarah felt like something in her was going to burst if she didn't ask.

"Do I know you?" She all but blurted. Her eyes widened with horror at the bluntness of her question. She hadn't meant to be so weird about it, but the question was begging to be asked. Trying to recover, Sarah quickly added, "you just seem familiar, is all…" which was a lie, because Sarah would've never forgotten witnessing a man like him.

It was impossible to deny that he held an aura that made people notice. His wild, silvery blonde hair, aristocratic face, alabaster skin...Sarah wasn't entirely unaware of other women and men staring at him, some with looks of envy, some with admiration and yearning. And somehow she had caught his attention?

"Dreaming of me?" He gave a wicked grin.

Sarah started, acutely aware of the fact that she had just been thinking of her dream, and she gave him an bemused look. Did he read minds? Her thoughts were interrupted when he threw his head back and gave a rich laugh. "I'm only kidding. But you look like you've seen a ghost. Have I upset you?"

"N-no...No," Sarah stammered.

"Well, I want to be a gentleman, and I'm afraid so far I'm doing a poor job," a glimmer of mischief twinkled in his eyes, and Sarah felt her heart flutter.

"Mm...staring me down from across the bar wasn't a good start," she admonished with a twinge of playfulness. Maybe it was the alcohol, or maybe it was the fact that he was startlingly handsome, but Sarah found herself wanting to take the stick from out of her ass for a little bit, even if it was only one night.

"I can't help but appreciate beauty when I see it," the man countered easily before gesturing to the bartender. Soon enough, two drinks were set before them, and he offered one to Sarah.

She shyly took it, staring at the nearly clear liquid.

"Gin and tonic. It's good for the soul," he winked, tipping his head and lifting the glass up before taking a sip.

Sarah took a sip of her own, feeling the alcohol embolden her.

"So start over. Impress me," she challenged. "And then maybe I'll let you know if I have been dreaming of you." Sarah belatedly realized what had come tumbling out of her mouth and she wanted to smack her head against the wall. Sober Sarah was really going to beat the shit out of tipsy Sarah when she had the chance.

"A challenge? You hellcat," he replied teasingly.

(You are truly a hellcat…)

Sarah paused, wondering why that phrase seemed so distinctly familiar. Like she had once upon a time been called that. Had she? Ridiculous, she scoffed.

"Are you too scared?" She shot back, recovering from her brief spell. "You talk a big game, but…" she gave a small grin, shamelessly flirting now. What the hell, Williams. You meet a guy, flirt a little, and then forget all about it. Hopefully. And for the love of God, don't throw up on him.

"My honor simply won't stand for it," he proclaimed, easily reaching for and grabbing her hand, as if it were the most natural thing to do. Sarah almost gasped and dropped her drink, feeling a course of something like static electricity coursing through her. She quickly recovered, allowing herself to be led by the tall, lean man.

The pulsing lights flashed all around them, and Sarah briefly caught sight of her friends dancing. Grace gave an excited thumbs up before gesturing to a man standing near her with a grin while Rebecca flirted shamelessly with a pretty blonde woman. Sarah rolled her eyes but laughed quietly in response at her friends' antics.

Soon, Sarah and the man were in a quiet hallway off to the side of the main dance floor. The music was still loud and the lights were flashing but less so in her face. Here though, it seemed like they were in their own little world. Few people lingered close by, most caught up in intimate conversation while others nursed their drinks.

Sarah's gaze connected with the man's, and her heart seemed to nearly stop.

His mismatched eyes were captivating, to say the least. She felt like she could look into them forever. Which was stupid, but Sarah wasn't about to question it.

Having discarded her drink somewhere along the way, Sarah decided that for once, she was going to be bold when it came to flirting. There was no point in caring right now, because what did it hurt to have a little fun? A handsome man was showing interest in her, and well, who was she to turn him down? Besides, despite the odd feeling he gave her, she also felt a thrum of excitement coursing through her veins.

Without further thought and before she could even have time to process the course of her actions, Sarah wrapped her arms around his neck and crashed her lips against his. As if he had been expecting it, he eagerly received her, his hands firmly gripping her waist. He pushed her against the wall, and Sarah welcomed the intensity.

His tongue pushed against the entrance of her mouth, and she briefly hesitated before opening up to him. He explored every inch of her without hesitation, like he had been waiting for the opportunity. Sarah felt overwhelmed, moaning into his mouth. Is this what she had been reduced to? A stupid college girl making out with strangers in public?

She couldn't dwell on the thought for long and gasped when she felt his fingers trace over the bare skin revealed between the hem of her shirt and waistband of her skirt. It took her off balance for a moment, but it was impossible to deny how good he felt.

In the back of her mind, this felt familiar.

Which was strange, because the last time she had kissed someone had been almost a year ago. And before that, it had been Alex, and while he was good, he wasn't mind blowing.

So why this kiss shook her to her core was anyone's guess. It had to be the booze making her feel disoriented.

She released a sigh of contentment as he pulled away. He gently tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear, and the gesture felt strangely intimate.

"Okay, okay...consider me impressed," she grinned with mock resignation.

"Mm," he murmured as he leaned back in to lay kisses against her neck. Sarah felt her legs shake, placing her hands on his shoulders to steady herself. Against her better judgment, Sarah moaned, knowing she was inadvertently encouraging him to continue. And it wasn't like she wanted him to stop.

"Jareth…" her breath hitched, as eyes became half-lidded, heavy with desire.

She felt his lips briefly pause before continuing their worship of the sensitive spot where her neck and shoulder blade joined.

(Well now…

...Are we finally using first names? I was growing tired of Goblin King)

Sarah's eyes snapped open, and she immediately felt light headed. Stumbling back from him, she felt the air leaving her lungs in short, panicked gasps. She couldn't tell what was happening but her pulse was speeding up. Maybe it was the effects of the alcohol, or maybe it was the cacophony of sounds, once pleasant but now chaotic and unsettling. The sound of her rapid heartbeat roared in her ears, drowning out everything so that it seemed like a film had been laid over her, dulling her senses.

"What's...what's happening?" She whispered, hands wrapping around her body. She felt cold and sweaty at the same time, her pulse continuing to quicken. Her left wrist was throbbing, and before she could register anything else, the man she had been so enamored with now gripped it tightly, his lips against the delicate flesh. The lines of his face which once made him look handsome now added a harsh quality, almost inhuman if she stared too long.

Sarah stood frozen to her spot against the wall, the sound of the music and other party goers fading into white noise.

Where had that name come from? Why did it feel like a veil had been lifted? Nothing had been unordinary, nothing noteworthy at least. The dream she had had the night before was unsettling, but in a vacuum, it had been well within the realm of oddities related to the sheer nature of dreams. And she was easily able to believe it after a while, until she ran into this man.

This man who suddenly, she was sure she knew. It was knowledge held so deeply and readily, as easy as it was for Sarah to confidently say the Earth revolved around the sun.

"Well, I suppose I did underestimate you," the man stated, stepping back while still holding her wrist. Sarah stared at him, eyes wide, before she quickly snatched her wrist back and turned and ran.

She flung herself into the crowd of bodies who were uncaring of her plight. The music was too loud and the bass too heavy. Her whole body felt like it was vibrating, and she was starting to feel nauseous. Scanning the crowd with urgency, she tried to locate her friends, but the faces around her seemed blurred and unfocused.

True panic was beginning to set in, so Sarah willed herself to stay calm and take deep breaths.

"This isn't real, this isn't real…" she muttered to herself, closing her eyes and trying with every ounce of her being to filter out all the sensations threatening to overwhelm her.

"Oh, I can assure you, it is real," a voice murmured next to her. She could feel his hot breath fanning over the shell of her ear, and she shivered. "All very real."

"No," she growled. "No, it isn't!"

She was flooded with a thousand thoughts, images, sounds...she could see Toby's big blue eyes and unruly hair, hear goblins cackling all around her parents' bedroom, the faces of her beloved friends in the labyrinth floating to the surface, including Hoggle, Ludo, and Sir Didymus. She was struck by images of floating clocks, hands that ticked ever steadily towards thirteen o'clock, white feathers drifting around her. There were bones that seemingly cackled at her for being too naive but also for being burdened with the knowledge of too much. She remembered dancing in a dress that seemed to be woven from moonlight with stars kissing her hair and blood on her lips.

And worst of all, she could remember the touch of Jareth's lips against her wrist, over and over and over, as though each time he was making a vow of devotion to her soul, that in claiming her, he was letting her claim him. Her eyes filled with tears, at the dread it pulled up from her stomach and into her chest, but mostly because of how much a part of her wished it could be sincere and true.

But none of this could ever be more than a game. A sick, twisted game where it seemed there was no way out. They would keep chasing each other, each fooling the other into believing it was almost over, a victor ready to emerge. Like ouroboros devouring its tail, so it seemed they would devour each other.

Her surroundings seemed to distort, the laughter and music being swallowed up by a low hum threading through the air. Sarah's eyes darted around, having lost track of Jareth in the commotion.

Not wasting a moment, Sarah began to run, setting course for an exit. She wasn't sure where she was headed after, but she knew she needed to get away from him, create distance. It seemed the rules of their game were over anyway, the thirteen hour time limit be damned. He had never intended to uphold his end of the bargain, that much Sarah could guess.

"No, I don't think so." A hand shot out and grabbed Sarah by her upper arm. She instinctively thrashed and then opted to throw herself against Jareth, trying to knock him off balance.

Instead, she only allowed herself to be locked in his vise-like grip. With her head pressed against his chest, she could hear his heartbeat and the hum that she had noticed earlier, though now more prominent. She belatedly wondered if the magnetic field and electricity she always felt around him was due to magic.

"Let. Go. Of. ME!" Sarah enunciated, before resorting to wilder tactics.

Jareth let out a curse and instantly spun her out of his arms, eyes hard as flint.

Sarah wondered why the sudden change of heart before smiling in grim satisfaction.

"Like I've always said, you're an absolute hellcat." He glanced at the exposed flesh of his arm, where a tiny speck of blood dribbled. "I suppose I should've expected my dear hellcat to have claws. And teeth." His tone was flat, angry.

Good, Sarah thought mutinously. Let him be angry.

"I will never stop fighting you. And I will never apologize for fighting you. This has never been about Toby and me winning the labyrinth. This has always been about us. Hasn't it?"

Jareth gave no reply, staring at her with stony silence.

"Well, I hate to break it to you, but I will always choose to fight. You can keep throwing whatever you have my way, but I won't back down. I've never backed down," she hissed. "So if you're expecting me to give in, then I suggest you shift those expectations."

A few moments of silence passed, the two adversaries sizing each other up, as though assessing who would break first.

"I don't think you fully understand who you're dealing with, Sarah." The way he said her name made Sarah shiver. It hurt her ego to admit that he would probably always have some pull over her, even in small ways such as uttering her name. "You have never once stopped to think and consider what I have been offering you!" His voice was filled with venom, and Sarah nearly flinched.

"And what have you been offering?" Sarah asked, voice becoming high pitched. "All my heart's desires? My dreams? Your undying love and eternal devotion?!" She laughed incredulously.

Jareth remained impassive, never once looking away or revealing his emotions.

"Oh God...oh God. You can't...you couldn't possibly…" Sarah trailed off, hysteria bubbling away to complete awestruck numbness. "That's it isn't it? Truly? You think that this is what love is?! Oh my God," Sarah looked away, a caustic laugh escaping her lips. Looking back at him, the expression on her face sobered. "This isn't love, Jareth. How could it ever be?" She had never once thought that he had meant it in earnest. For Sarah, it had always been a ploy, a way to appeal to her silly mortal thoughts and fancies. But now, standing before her, she could see that he had never been lying to her. At least, not from his perspective.

Jareth took a few steps closer to her, lifting his hand to cup her cheek.

"Why couldn't it be? What is so displeasing to you about what I'm offering? I have never asked for anything more. I could give you everything."

(I ask for so little…

…just fear me, love me, do as I say, and I will be your slave)

Sarah could've sworn that in this moment, there was complete honesty in his tone, his eyes earnest. And damn it if Sarah didn't want to believe it. No one had ever elicited this kind of response from her. She couldn't even begin to compare her past experiences with him. But more than anything else, she knew she could never live up to what he wanted.

"Fearing you...doing as you say...how could that possibly be love?" Her voice cracked. "That isn't love, Jareth," she repeated. "That's servitude. Captivity. Call it what you want, but it will never be love."

He slowly withdrew his palm from her cheek, and Sarah keenly felt the absence of his touch.

"Is this how it's to be then?" He asked, a coolness frosting his tone. As quickly as he had shown warmth, he had hidden it away, in favor of donning a cold mask, ice his armor of choice.

Sarah didn't say anything, couldn't say anything.

"Then let this dance continue. But let it be known, Sarah dear, that you are dealing with an immortal. You will grow tired much sooner than I ever will. All I have is time. It is my currency in abundance, but for you, Precious? Not so much," he snarled.

Sarah lifted her chin, eyes bright with determination.

"You're underestimating me. You always have."

Jareth gave a humorless laugh before conjuring a small bauble. Palming it and letting it thread around his fingers, considering, Jareth then wound his arm back and hurled it high above them.

In a flash, the whole world seemed to fall away, turning upside down. Everything broke into small fragments and the last bits of distorted sound faded away. Sarah felt weightless, like she was falling but frozen in time. If she closed her eyes, it seemed as if she would disappear.

With a sudden jarring motion, her feet hit the stone balcony of the Goblin King's castle.

Stumbling forward, Sarah quickly grasped onto the balcony ledge, righting herself. She gripped the stone, biting her lip as she gazed down. Closing her eyes, she urged her heartbeat to settle down, telling herself to stay calm before taking any decisive action.

She slowly lifted her head to the twilit sky, considering the enormity of what was ahead, of what had been laid bare before her feet.

It seemed that no matter what frequency she was on, he would find her, tuning the knob just so. He would keep chasing her, claiming her, riding every current if it led to her. It was horrifying, if Sarah looked deep down inside her soul, to think that a part of her thrived on it. His attention was intoxicating, magnetic. She felt bound to him in a way that words could never express.

But it was also destructive, chaotic...unsustainable.

This game that wasn't really a game had to end.

And as she continued to gaze at the sky, Sarah had a small epiphany.

The soothsayer had been right all along, hadn't it? She did have the answer.

She just didn't like it, hadn't ever wanted to consider it.

Closing her eyes and taking in one last deep breath of air, Sarah let go of all the tension resting in her body and her soul. She then opened her eyes and squared her shoulders.

She turned around and walked back across the balcony, through the wide French doors.

And on she marched up the stairs of the castle, like a woman to her execution with her head held high. She wouldn't keep running from him, delaying the inevitable, repeating the same mistakes.

Because Sarah Williams would always be a fighter.