If I put my hands around your wrists, would you fight them?

If I put my fingers in your mouth, would you bite them?

So many things that I would do if I had my way with you

"I just don't get the big deal about sex."

Sarah ignored the incredulous look cast her way by her friend as she poked listlessly at her wilted salad with her fork. The longer Leslie gaped at her, the more she fought the urge to blush, certainly not daring to meet the other girl's eyes.

"What do you even mean?" Leslie scoffed. "Sex is like one of the best things ever. It's right up there next to triple chocolate ice cream and yoga pants."

Sarah cracked a smile, thankful that no one sitting near them in the crowded cafeteria was paying their conversation any mind. "I think I'll stick with the ice cream. Less disappointment that way."

Leslie laughed. "You could always mix the two..."

Sarah pulled a face. "Ewww. No."

Leslie chuckled but her grin slipped a notch at Sarah's disheartened expression. "I don't mean to be insensitive. I know you're bummed about Randy."

Ahh.

Randy.

Handsome, blond haired, blue eyed Randy with the perfect smile and dimpled cheeks that made most of the girls and even some of the guys in their theatre group sigh dreamily. He was pleasant enough, when he wasn't keeping one eye on his own reflection and not talking near constantly about his accomplishments.

Easy on the eyes but about as shallow as a puddle.

"I didn't have great expectations for that one. But I thought..." Sarah sighed, a hint of frustration coloring her tone. "Well, I at least thought the kissing would be good, you know."

"I don't kiss boys. Lesbian, remember. And you still haven't told me why he didn't make it past date number two."

Sarah leaned in closer, voicing what was really the issue at hand. "I think I'm defective."

Leslie's hazel eyes narrowed behind her fuchsia cat-eye glasses. "Bullshit. What did he tell you to make you think that? That son-of-a-bitch. I'll take a metal bat to his balls."

Sarah couldn't help but laugh at the thought of Leslie, a feisty little red-head that barely weighed 100 pounds soaking wet taking on Randy who was at least twice her size.

"It's not him," she reassured. "It's a me thing."

"So what, you're like not into to sex at all?"

Was she?

Sarah had never really contemplated that before.

It wasn't as if she hadn't tried her hand at dating. She was enamored with the idea of finding that right guy who could make her heart sing and her body tremble. But so far no one was coming close.

In high school there had been Cody Boswell. They lasted three months but had never made it past closed mouth pecks on the lips. Then senior year there was Mathew Parker. He took her to prom and then promptly tried to get his hands under her dress as soon as they were alone. He was another pretty face but his insistent groping and sloppy kisses had left her cold.

Needless to say, he didn't get lucky. He got a knee to the groin.

Later that night she'd lain awake comparing the gym's cheap streamers and shoddy lighting to a crystal ballroom draped in silks and pearls, ruefully admitting that a certain king- one she dared not name even in her own mind- had ruined her for cheesy school dances. It was even more disquieting to remember how her heart had done a tango at the feel of his arms holding her, that unlike Mathew, he was the villain of her grand adventure but his hands had remained respectfully on her waist as he'd done nothing more than stare deeply into her eyes. Such a simple thing really and yet... she'd burned. And that feeling had been equal parts enchanting and terrifying.

It wasn't fair that he was her only basis for comparison.

With the fresh start of college looming on the near horizon, she promised herself to try harder.

Jake Howell lasted four dates and he'd made it to third base before she admitted that he wasn't sparking any fires.

Micha Danvers came close. They made it four months and in a tipsy haze at a party hosted by his frat house she'd decided to be done with her innocence and the burden it carried. She'd regretted it the next morning, feeling sore and sticky and still unsatisfied. They broke up shortly after.

Brian didn't make it through the first date.

Alex tried kissing her good night but his beer breath was an instant turn off.

And now Randy...

Another failure.

"I'm attracted to guys. I want the romance but when it gets to the actual touching it's... as if I don't really feel anything."

Leslie arched a copper brow. "Anything?"

Sarah found it hard not to blush as she admitted, "It's tolerable but not great. I mean," she leaned in even closer and whispered, "I can do better myself."

"So there's never been anyone that got you all hot and bothered? Not even once?" Asked Leslie, honestly curious.

Sarah hesitated.

That hesitation said everything.

"An ex?"

Sarah pushed her lunch tray aside as her stomach became unsettled. It was stupid to even think it much less say it... "He was a could've been."

She hated the wistfulness in her voice. It made her feel fourteen again, bringing all of her juvenile wants and desires back to the surface. Even now his memory was achingly vivid; the closeness of his body and the threat of inhuman strength belied by sleek muscles, the scent of him as crisp as an autumn wind, the feel of his breath as it fluttered against her ear as he spoke, the intensity in which he watched her as he audaciously offered her a crystal containing her dreams- It was hardly fair that his cruel wit had left her feeling very much like a foolish little girl while his brazen stare elicited something else entirely.

Sheltered as she had been, Sarah hadn't understood then. A decade older and a little wiser, she could call it what it was now. She'd wanted him not even really knowing what wanting was. And if she were being completely honest, part of her still did.

Human boys just didn't measure up to the ethereal charm of the Gob- of him.

But as alluring as he was, she couldn't forget how frightening he could be as well. Or that what had appeared to be interest on his part was likely nothing more than pretense. She didn't doubt for a second that he would have said anything to win.

The reminder stiffened her spine and hardened her resolve.

"Actually, he was a bit of wishful thinking," said Sarah matter-of-factly.

"I think we all have one of those in our closets." Leslie said with a sympathetic grin. Then she perked up, her grin turning impish. "So we just need to find you someone similar. What's he like?"

Damn. She really should not be encouraging this conversation. Hoggle still complained about 'his royal pain in the back side' regularly enough for her to know that his temperament was mercurial at best and his attention was not something she should willingly seek out. Talking about him, no matter how vaguely, would likely invite nothing but trouble.

"Look, I appreciate you for wanting to help but... not now, okay." Not ever , said an inner voice that sounded suspiciously like Hoggle.

"Okay. Okay," Leslie said, holding up her hands with an airy laugh. "I'll change the subject."

The problem with being honest with yourself was that denial was a hard commodity to come by afterward.

Hence why Sarah found herself enthralled outside of a quaint antique shop, as she stared dazedly at the window display, completely fixated on the barn owl figurine that rested stately atop an ornate jewelry box.

To be fair, the wood carving was quite beautiful. No detail was spared by its creator and the end result was incredibly life-like. Even the coloring was perfect as the ivory blended seamlessly with the accents of russet and brown. But it was the eyes that had her transfixed. Dark and piercing, they seemed to look back at her in the afternoon sunlight.

Was it her imagination or was one pupil larger than the other?

At that point an interesting reaction took place within Sarah's body. Gone was the bustling street teeming with pedestrians. The only sound she could hear was her heart pounding in her ears. Adrenaline jolted down her spine but it wasn't borne of fear. Or at least not entirely.

Her fingertips practically tingled with the urge to touch. To see if the feathers were as soft as his might be.

Jar-

She blinked, then slammed her eyes closed and squeezed them tight. Still her heart raced, her body tensed as if waiting for something.

It took a great deal more effort than it should have to walk away.

Three days later Sarah eyed the owl figurine now perched on her bed side table with a fair amount of trepidation.

She still couldn't fathom what made her cave in and purchase the stupid thing in the first place. It was only wood and paint. Hardly anything spectacular. Yet, it was eerily similar to-

Growling in frustration, Sarah forced her attention back to the textbook in her lap, reminding herself sternly that it was only another hour at most before her dorm mate returned and once Amanda started talking on the phone not even earplugs would help salvage her concentration.

Traitors that they were, her eyes strayed back to the figurine and she couldn't shake the whimsical thought that it was watching her just the same.

It's not him , her mind hissed. You shouldn't want it to be him.

But the truth was, she did.

The magic still fascinated her. His words still haunted her. She really wanted to know if any of the promises he'd made were real. After all, it wasn't everyday a king offered to be her slave.

But the price…

He wanted to enslave her in return.

Reaching over she picked up the owl, savoring the solid weight of the wood in her hands. It was a statue, nothing more.

Denial was safe.

She set the owl back in its place. It's glass eyes absolutely did not glitter back at her mockingly.

In retrospect, it was a thoughtless comment from Hoggle, of all things, that started Sarah off down the path of no return.

Sinking down onto her bed, Sarah struggled to breathe past the ugliness that crushed her chest, croaking, "What did you say?"

Hoggle, completely oblivious to the sudden souring of her expression, repeated his grievance with folded arms and a grumble. "Jareth's mother is pestering him to find a bride again."

Bride

Sarah's mind went horribly blank as the vile word bounced around with vicious abandon.

Bride

He was going to find a wife.

He was going to be happy with someone else when she couldn't find anyone that came remotely close to affecting her in the flesh half as much as his goddamn memory did.

Talk about un-fucking-fair!

Sarah swallowed down the hurtful fury that squatted like a slimy toad in her throat. Trying to not to let the bitterness show, she laughed tightly. "I didn't know he had a nagging mother. How surprisingly mundane."

"I told you before, Jareth is old compared to you mortals but he's barely a man to his own kind. And boy does her majesty featherbrain enjoy rubbing his nose in it."

"Doesn't she sound delightful," Sarah said with grimace.

"The old harpy does this every century or so. She comes parading in with her entourage of eligible ladies, gets everyone into a tizzy and fer what? So Jareth can get all pissy with the rest of us." The dwarf scuffed his foot against the carpet petulantly. Thankfully he refrained from spitting.

"Is…" Sarah bit her lip, squared her shoulders and tried again. "Is there anyone he favors? she asked, striving for nonchalance. From under her lashes she watched Hoggle, the ugly thing in her chest clawing.

Hoggle stopped his pacing and tapped his chin thoughtfully. "I don't really know. Jareth likes the attention 'cause he's pompous like that but they're all simpering twits. He usually makes them run the labyrinth for his amusement." The smile that twisted Hoggle's craggy face was anything but nice. "It's fun to lead them back to the beginning. They're as bad as he is. Can't be bothered to remember my name either. All I get is 'Higgle do this 'Hoghead to that'. They deserve Jareth and he deserves them. Good riddance!"

It was stupid to ask but she had to know. "Has any of them ever beat the labyrinth?"

Hoggle snickered. "Not even close. I said they were twits, didn't I. Ain't a single one of them more clever than you, Sarah. Probably not even the whole lot of 'em put together. And you don't even have magic. So what does that tell you?"

Slightly mollified, she glared at the owl figurine. The damn thing glared back smugly.

"So tell me more about her majesty featherbrain. I've got this feeling she might be good for a laugh," Sarah smirked.

Hoggle was only too happy to oblige.

The damn owl was watching her.

At first Sarah had chalked it up to a flight of fancy. She was lonely and she'd always had an overactive imagination. It would be just like her to associate the harmless figurine with him and then project the impossible because it was such a playful thing to do.

But it wasn't impossible. Not really.

So she'd started talking to the owl when she was alone and treating it as if he could see through its eyes. Absurd. Totally absurd. And not to mention conceited of her to even think that after ten years he'd actually remember her much less spare a second of his time keeping tabs on a mere mortal.

While that reasoning might return some credibility to her sanity, it did not begin to explain why the hairs would suddenly rise on the back of her neck and the feeling of eyes peering would pull her from her studies at random moments.

Even Amanda had made the comment that the owl gave her the creeps.

Sarah knew that deep, deep down she'd wanted the validation and even the attention. Now, in the two days that had passed since Hoggle's visit, it was undeniably apparent that she wanted the silly little figurine to be a connection to him . Wanted it so bad, in fact, she'd almost said her right words.

Pride bruised and heart sore, Sarah willed the stupid figurine to be direct link. Because that would be the perfect set up for an interaction, wouldn't it? She could toy with him and steal back his attention without saying his name. Without calling out to him and relinquishing any power to him.

Why clever little Sarah could have her cake and eat it too.

In order to find out if her suspicions were correct, she had a brazen idea.

It was Friday night, well after ten and Amanda was staying the night at her boyfriend's place. That left Sarah with the dorm to herself. Now seemed like a good time to get ready for bed.

Clucking her tongue, she wagged her finger at the owl and then began untying her sneakers. "You're a pervert," she tisked. "I think you like spying on me."

The owl stared ahead placidly.

"I'm either crazy for talking to you or I'm onto something," she muttered, kicking her shoes over to the corner and then shucking her socks. "And you're still a pervert."

Taking a deep breath, she unbuttoned her jeans and shimmied them over her hips. The button down shirt she wore was long enough that the hem reached right below her panties, exposing a vast amount of mile long legs but not much else.

Refusing to think of how many times she'd changed in front of the statue prior to now, Sarah grinned impishly and turned the owl to face the wall. "No more free shows, buddy." It took her by surprise when she added, "Unless you show me you want it bad enough."

Well, that probably wasn't wise.

You think , her mind chided.

If he was watching then she certainly had his attention now.

Courage unraveling, Sarah turned her back for good measure and quickly unbuttoned her shirt. The sound of wood scraping against wood had her spinning around, clutching the shirt closed in a white knuckled grip. Her soft gasp was like a gunshot in the tense quiet.

The owl stared back at her, it's dark eyes twinkling cheekily.

A.N.- This is what happens when I watch Labyrinth with my son and fall a little in love with Jareth all over again (I've had a thing for him since the movie first came out). He's a manipulative asshat but his one redeeming quality is that he truly loves Sarah and that gets me every single time. So if you enjoy smut then stay tuned for the next chapter.

The song I quoted is "Hatefuck" by The Bravery.