Disclaimer: I own nothing *cries* not even Jareth. Again – But I Wish I Did! But no – there is nothing I own... And I'm a poor student, so don't bother to sue me…. But as a birthday present, can I have Jareth – please???

A/N: I received reviews! *grins*. Thanks to Nimhithriel, Daemon faerie queen, Fire-Maze-Dweller and lise carew.
This was not going to be just a one-shot – I have more planned, it's just getting around to writing it!

Too Late?
By Cariah Delonne.

Chapter 2

He was gone. Sarah shook her head in wonder at the now empty space of wall where he had been moments before. He had not changed. Conceited and arrogant, he expected everyone and everything to bow down before him. She never had, and she was not, at the tender age of 68, about to start.

*****

Sarah wandered sadly around her room, packing the last of her belongings. A rest home. Of all the places they dared to put her of all people – she who had defeated forces that most people preferred to believe did not exist. When she was younger, they had said she was an 'amazing storyteller,' and 'able to create worlds beyond any normal child's imagination.'

Now, it was different. She was getting old. She knew, by the way her body shrank and bulged in places it hadn't ten years ago. She knew, by the way her voice shook on occasion, and her hands refused to respond. Now, she was no longer a legendary storyteller of children's stories, but an old eccentric. Someone to be locked away, in a rest home full of people who could barely remember their name from breakfast to lunch. Old people.

Yet, she was Jareth's equal. No lifetime of immortality could have taught her that. 

She hauled a box out of the wardrobe. She did not remember packing this box – neither would she have put it into the wardrobe where it was likely to be forgotten. Curiously, she opened the lid.

Slam! Upon seeing its contents, she knocked the box shut again, her heart beating fast. Her childhood, her dreams, toys and costumes, packed into one, singular box. Why had it not been thrown out? Perhaps she hadn't been able to. It was one thing to lock your childhood away, to forget, but yet another to burn it – she had lived it, survived it – whether she liked it or not, her childhood was a part of her. Along with all the unpleasant things that went with it.

"Reminiscing, Sarah?" came an arrogant voice from behind her.
She growled in displeasure. "Jareth," she sighed, "Do you not understand that you have nothing left to offer me? You have nothing at all to make me return to the Labyrinth – nothing to make me even want to remember you, and your kingdom. I will forget, in time."

Jareth laughed. "Oh, but Sarah, I do. I always have. You never could comprehend – you could never understand that there is something that I can hold over you. Your dreams." Mockingly, he held out a crystal, just as he had those long years ago. *…but, if you turn it this way, it will show you your dreams…*
"Do you wish to leave? Leave this house, your home, for an institution?"

"I would wish to go anywhere to escape you and your Labyrinth!" she said angrily.

A look which resembled anger passed over his face, but he suppressed it, his eyebrows raised as he smirked at her. "Watch your words Sarah," he reprimanded her haughtily.

Bristling, she reached out to strike him. Catching her hand deftly, he spun her around, her back pressed up against his chest, his arms entangled around her. The scenery changed, as if the house had never been there at all.
They stood, in the middle of nowhere, derelict trees and shrubs dying in the late afternoon sun. Sarah was reminded sharply of countryside surrounding the entrance to the Labyrinth.

"Don't you understand Sarah," he whispered. "Do you not understand what I am offering you? A lifetime – a whole other lifetime – to do as you please! I can restore your health, your age, to resemble whichever part of your life you want."

Sarah slid out of his grasp and faced him angrily. "Do you honestly think I would fall for this again? After you already tried to offer it to me and I declined in favour of a mortal life? Ought I have the right to a mortal death too?"

He cut her off with a wave of his hand. "Sarah…" he muttered, "You miss my point…" he gestured towards her face. Reaching up, Sarah traced where familiar lines had once been. Now her skin was smooth – as smooth as she remembered from her prime, at least forty years ago.

"No Jareth," she said strongly. "I know you – I know the conditions. I would never, could never, love you  – and I fear you, oh yes, as much as I hate to admit it, I fear you," Jareth grinned momentarily, "But I could never combine the two. You ask too much. You know nothing of love, Jareth. You cannot fear the one you love."

Sarah turned and walked away. Within a few steps, she had reappeared in her own living room.

Jareth looked around him in disgust, and angrily disappeared into thin air.

*****

A/N: R&R please!!
~Cariah. =D