Author's Note:

I am, tragically, no owner of any rights to The Labyrinth or any of its characters. I have just loved it since I was five. The following story is based off of Jim Henson and company's works, however any and all original characters and events therein are my own created brainchildren.

I am relatively new to the whole world of fanfic, and this is my first fanfic story.

Enjoy, and please R&R!

Sarah awoke with a start. Her labored breathing and damp sleepwear suggested that her dream had fully affected her, although she now struggled to remember exactly why.

She had been back in the Underground. Not her first dream of it throughout the years, however it may have been the most vivid. The first thing she could remember was falling into an oubliette. As she recalled the stomach churn of free fall, she was momentarily convinced that it was the cause for the sweat. But her skin began to tingle as she then remembered the distinct feeling of arousal.

She sat straight up, resisting further recollection of the dream now that the overall theme was fully coming back to her. She turned on her bedroom TV and went to get a drink from the kitchen, pushing away images of things that were setting her nerves ablaze.

Images of him.

The feel of him.

The unmistakable fire his dream-self had caused inside her as he caressed and kissed her.

Mid-gulp, Sarah slowly lowered her cup-holding hand and tried to catch her breath as the clear image came flooding back to her foremost thoughts.

She'd been tied upright by each limb in a dimly lit, familiar oubliette. Though she didn't have a clear memory of the act of being tied, the rest of it felt so strikingly real that the memory made her grab for the counter as if to remind herself what reality actually felt like. A dangerously attractive Goblin King had been toying with her. Teasing her. She could distinctly recall that she had been entirely naked, a thought that made her grip tighten around the counter's edge. He had approached her slowly from behind, lips pressing against her neck, hand wandering down her stomach…

A blast of thunder broke through the sultriness of Sarah's thoughts, making her physically jump. Calming a little, she laughed out loud at her own jumpiness. A shaky hand wiped her still-damp hair from her forehead. She noticed both the light from the TV and the kitchen light flickering briefly, only resuming regular breaths as the flickering stopped.

"Just a stupid dream brought on by a storm. That's all." She said loudly to herself, as if the volume alone would convince her. It worked well enough, and as the adrenaline gave way to exhaustion, she made her way back into bed, quickly falling into a dreamless sleep.

Her morning began with a blissfully pleasant ignorance of the night before, until a dull throb pained her head, reminding her that a good portion of the night had been restless. Which then served in reminding her of why.

Sliding slowly up in her bed to a sitting position, she chewed her cheek as she considered indulging in a replay. Conflicting feelings battled within her as she danced around the idea. In somewhat of a daze, she brought her knees up to rest her elbows on as she started to allow herself to relive the heavy desire she experienced. It had been all-consuming.

At that thought she partially broke away from her musings enough to check her clock, coming back down to earth as she realized she needed to soon head to work.

Dream-version me may be able to be consumed by him, but real me won't be, she thought .

Her mind sill tentatively wandered as she started making her way through her morning routine. Back to how it felt to be so enthralled by his sensual game. She couldn't recall if she had been willingly or unwillingly tied; the beginnings of the dream were a hazy jumble of falling and then recognizing where she was. Even without exact recollection, she did not feel as though her position had been unwanted. Excitingly dangerous was a more apt description. He was infuriatingly intoxicating, in a way that she'd never experienced in any other person. He was infuriatingly himself.

Why have I never felt, even in the throws of lovemaking, anywhere near that fiery sensation about anyone else?

She hated to admit it, even to herself. The internal admission alone made her flush with resentful embarrassment.

Something like worry began to tug at her potent thoughts then. Worry that there might be something wrong with her. Not only have you not even seen him in around nine years, but even when you had known him he was an absolute bastard, she firmly told herself. The intoxication probably mostly revolved around intimidation from being so young and bewildered by everything. That was the reasoning she would stick to.

Back in those days, while still a teenager, any dreams of the Goblin King were almost innocent. The same ballroom dance from her memories would occasionally appear in them, laced with flirtatious touches and kisses. Later they seemed to graduate into something more, as if a latent desire were growing within her.

And now this dream. This treacherously delicious dream that was now threatening to consume her every thought. Seriously, what's wrong with me? she reflected. With a smirk, she thought of the ridiculous idea of him having been able to see her dream. He'd probably drop that crystal right on the ground just because of the sheer ludicrosity of it. She chuckled, feeling almost empowered with the amusing image.

If you turn it this way, it'll show you your dreams…

Sobering suddenly, she started feeling crushed with the terrifying possibility that he actually could see her dreams.

He wouldn't dare, she thought, not entirely convincing herself. With a spiteful scoff, she realized she almost wanted to dare him. How she'd love to disappoint him a second time by resisting him. You have no power over me. She grinned at the thought of saying those words again. How absolutely powerful they had felt to say. She smirked at her reflection in the bathroom mirror. I wish the Goblin King would come here, she boldly thought in her temporarily triumphant mood. If only you could see the mature me, Jareth. How much easier you would be to overturn. Still chuckling with the empowering thought, she noticed a faint flicker in her bathroom lights. Her glee immediately lost, she warily looked around, half expecting a gush of wind followed by magic and glitter. A moment passed with nothing, and she continued getting ready with a carefully silent mind.

Distracted throughout the remainder of the day, Sarah found herself avoiding most of her coworkers. After an awkward morning of dodging a few conversations that threatened to begin in the halls and break room, she began to resort to the pretense of being on the phone or d enthralled with her typing. Luckily, as a journalist, days of solitude were not entirely impossible to obtain. However, some teammates were not always quick enough on the uptake that a colleague desired solitude.

"Late night partying?" Tim was suddenly smiling at the opening of her cubicle, commenting on her tired appearance.

"Hi Tim, no, I uh...just woke up a lot through the night with the thunderstorm." Only a partial lie. He nodded, seemingly excited that she'd just divulged even a mundane detail about herself.

"Yeah it was wild, right? Out of nowhere. So hey, did you say you were coming with us to Friday night happy hour at Larribe's?"

The question caught her off guard. After blinking dumbly for a few moments, she finally remembered what he was referring to. "Ohhh, that. I actually hadn't exactly...answered anyone for sure about that. Deadlines are approaching unnervingly fast," she finished with a weak chuckle.

"Oh, I gotcha. Hopefully you change your mind," he gave a small wave of leave and walked off, looking slightly disappointed.

Sarah sighed and slowly twisted her chair back to face her monitor. The truth was, even without her current distraction, she had had no intention of going. Her department team was perfectly nice, even fun at times, but socializing always took a lot out of her. Especially with people she couldn't bring herself to feel close to. She rarely ever seemed to form much of a connection with anyone. Even with people who seemed very interested in forming a connection. Like Tim, she thoughtfully admitted. He had shown a liking for her since she started working there almost a year ago. There was nothing unappealing about him, per se. She just wasn't into him.

You never are, her inner voice nagged. She tried to shrug the thought off, as she usually did whenever it surfaced, but the analytical side of her wouldn't quite drop it. He just isn't very… stimulating, she reasoned, regarding this most recent would-be suitor. Tim was attractive enough, both physically and characteristically, but far from breathtaking.

Far from a lithely chiseled form in tights and wild hair, with wolfish grins that looked as biting as his wit…

She stood up and promptly walked from her desk as if she could run away from her own thoughts. Realizing she had nowhere to go, she smoothly changed direction just enough dip into the break room for another coffee. It was going to be a long day.

Sarah finally returned that evening to an empty apartment, and welcomed the peace and quiet. Beginning to undress for the night, she became momentarily aware of her nagging hunger. She made her way into her cozy kitchen, now only in her pencil skirt and bra.

Fruit would be amazing, she mused, scanning her counter. There was a single, perfectly ripe peach nestled among some bananas. She frowned as she reached for it, trying to recall having actually bought it. With only a short hesitation, she bit into it, letting the juices run down her neck until they threatened to stain her light-colored bra. She caught the droplets there, giggling at her own messiness. There was a hint of excitement laced within the giggle that surprised herself, as if she were accepting a symbolic gift by eating this.

The peach was already here, she reasoned with herself. It certainly doesn't mean that he…

She wouldn't let herself finish the thought. Suddenly very aware of her messy and immodest appearance, she began to wipe herself off. That's when an achingly familiar voice 'tsked' in disapproval behind her.

"Shame to waste such delicious juices. And on such an inviting surface, at that."

Sarah whipped around, her breath catching at the sight of him. Leaning back against her fridge was the Goblin King, in the same clothing as their first ever meeting. He was as preternaturally beautiful as ever. She was so caught off guard that she briefly forgot how much skin she was currently showing. With the compelling realization, she promptly folded her arms across her chest. She threw him a glower as his words finally sunk in.

"Now you're poisoning me in my own home?" She shouted the accusing question.

"Oh come now, Sarah, why ever would I need to do that?" he replied with a dangerously smug chuckle.

"I don't pretend to understand the motives for any of the things you do," she returned haughtily. Subconsciously she hugged her arms more tightly to herself, as if doing so could fend off his brazen gaze. A gaze that kept shamelessly lowering towards an area below her face and making her heart speed. "I didn't call for you," she hurriedly continued, trying to disrupt his enjoyment of making her uncomfortable.

His eyes snapped back up to meet hers.

"Oh, but you did. Even aside from your...rather inviting dreams lately," he began to slowly close the space between them as he spoke. "You distinctly wished for me this morning. While conscious," he added with an infuriatingly smug smirk.

"That's not fair!" Sarah exclaimed, almost immediately wishing she hadn't as the familiarity stung her ears. It also seemed to only increase the smugness of his expression. "I thought it...never said it out loud...it was stream-of-consciousness!" She couldn't seem to form an articulate sentence as his proximity began to fluster her. He was close enough now that even a slight movement from either of them would cause contact. His eyes gleamed as he watched her visible nervousness, smirk forming into a full grin.

"You are not a child anymore, Sarah," he paused to briefly glance down at her with one eyebrow raised, as if to accentuate the statement. Her responding blush only served to deepen his grin as his eyes raised back to hers. "You should be more careful what you wish for. Out loud or otherwise."

"You're just making any excuse to torment me." Exasperated anger helped her find her wits again. "I was finished with your games - I won! Nearly a decade ago, no less." Her expression was darkening with resentment. "You have no right to be here."

"Oh I have every...right," his grin had turned into something more sinister. Something that she felt to be far more intimidating than even his smugness. The bright gleam still lingered in his mismatched eyes, but the rest of his expression had tensed into a fierce look of determination. "You're no longer young enough to prevent me from...abandoning certain rules," he whispered the last word into her ear, his lean causing his chest to lightly press against her folded arms. His breath on her neck made her shiver involuntarily. The smirk that returned to his face as he straightened back up told her he'd noticed that shiver.

"So, what now then? Because I'm an adult now you have free reign to vex me?" She wanted to sound merely angry, but there was also an edge of fear that she couldn't hide in her voice. He softly snorted a scoffing exhale in response to her words, as if they were absurd.

"As amusing as I find you, I am not quite that bored with my existence," he assured her. "No, I have a rather important purpose in being here. I'm only pleased you made it so easy to lead me to you." He punctuated the statement with a wide grin which revealed his fang-like teeth.

"What do you want?" she was satisfied to hear the words come out with a defiant strength.

A tone that was so abruptly finalizing, he almost considered telling her the whole truth.

Almost.

"Suffice it to say I'm here to ask for some assistance of yours. You're...rather sloppy victory in my realm set forward a chain of events that have grown too troublesome to ignore any longer."

" 'Ask'?" She scoffed. "Implying I have the choice to decline?" She glared up at him pointedly.

He immediately grinned in response and leaned back down to her ear.

"Not in the slightest."