A/N: Once again, sorry it's late. Grad school, man...

Enjoy!

"Okay, I talked to Peter. He and Lisa are going to run the information booth. Andy's creating pamphlets and we all need to take some to hand out. So we start with an introductory speech about the mythology and folklore department. Who we are, what we do, sample curriculum, maybe some career prospects-"

"Or lack thereof," Eric muttered.

Abby threw a wad of paper at him. "After the speech, we'll have Jessie and Ronnie acting out the story of Orpheus and Eurydice. I trust you two can resist stabbing each other in the eyes with forks long enough to get this done."

"No promises," Jessie said, as Ronnie blew her a mocking kiss.

"Next is a speech from the head of the department. Then Irene and Gerald from the Celtic mythology class will perform Tristan and Isolde. Finally, Sarah will close us out with a speech and panel discussion about romance in mythology and folklore and answer any other questions the prospective students may have. You on that, Sarah? Sarah?"

Someone was saying her name. It came to her in a fog, like a horn echoing across the sea. She heard it again, further away this time, playing at her mind with a million other thoughts and ideas all warring for attention-

"Sarah!"

"Wha-" Sarah ate the rest of the world as Abby waved a pencil in her face. "Gah- I'm here! I'm listening."

"You'd better be," Abby snapped. "Because this was your idea and I will not tolerate anyone spacing out in the middle of this discussion. Least of all you."

"Careful, Sarah, or she'll send you to the gulag," Ronnie snickered.

"And you, shut up," Abby said.

"Yes, Comrade Premier!" Ronnie saluted while Eric giggled and beat his fist on the table.

Abby turned so red, Sarah was pretty sure she saw blood in her eyes. This would've been the perfect time for her to take the reins and discuss her ideas for the closing speech. If only she had the strength.

Who was that man in her room this morning? Where had he come from?

Simple questions with easy answers felt like world-class conundrums when the Goblin King was involved. She remembered their first encounter, that dream that wasn't a dream. The way he flew into her life, a monster with a prince's face. It had felt unreal even then. 'I'm dreaming' was the first thought she had.

But it was real. He had said and done things not even her horny teenage brain could've thought up. He'd taken her brother when all she wanted from the bottom of her heart was to hear his ear-ripping cry and change his diaper. A dream couldn't do that ('Right?'). People could control their dreams ('Right?'), but she had no control. Just endless complications dancing into her path. It was hours before she made it back, just in time for Dad and Karen to come home to a clean house, a sleeping baby, and a responsible sitter.

That had all been real. Sarah remembered now. The childish temper tantrum that had felt like righteous anger at the time. The jolt of fear when lightning struck after she said those words. The horror when she ran to Toby's bedroom and the only eyes in that crib were stitched to a stuffed toy.

And the Goblin King. Jareth himself in the flesh.

"I brought you a gift." Those were his first words to her.

It hadn't been a lie. He did give her a gift. The gift of maturity, compassion for others, and an appreciation for the simple pleasures of life that fairy tale books couldn't provide. She used to think that was all she needed him for. Now she wasn't so sure.

But could she trust him? This was the kind of thing her elementary school teachers used to force them to watch videos about. So what if his mom was a million times worse and he'd already saved her life once? Being better than someone else doesn't automatically equal good. Sometimes it was the exact opposite.

Could she even discount the idea that this was all a lie? Someone with the power to alter time surely could create the illusion of a shadow monster to 'kidnap' and nearly devour her. All so the handsome, heroic king could swoop in and save the day. She'd read a dozen stories just like that, and for all that he sneered at the books on her shelf, Jareth knew them just as well as she did.

Well enough, perhaps, to lure her back into his trap.

It made more sense than was comforting. The longer Sarah traveled down this train of thought, the more likely it seemed. The only thing that kept her from jumping over the edge was… it just didn't feel right.

She wished she had an explanation for the doubt clawing at her skull, whispering to her that this wasn't right. It wasn't him doing this. That could have been another trick, but her gut was in agreement with her head. She'd seen bone sticking out of that wound. Nothing that deep or vicious could be faked. Neither could the pain in his voice when they even brushed the subject of her power. Which meant his mother really was out there, which meant the attack last night had been real, which meant she really had almost died in a dirty alleyway surrounded by bloodthirsty shadow monsters, which meant Jareth really did save her life.

Which meant The Demoness was waiting for them.

Sarah looked all around. Was anyone watching?

It was midday. There were no shadows. Just students mulling about the shelves, consumed in their own lives. Some were alone, but most were in groups. None of them met her eye. They probably didn't even notice her.

Why would they? They were busy college kids. Freshmen getting a feel for life outside their backyard, seniors cramming in those last few credits to get into grad school or find that perfect job. Last week, Sarah was just like them. She never thought she'd miss such mundanity. She never thought she'd lose it again.

But that's all it takes, isn't it? One day. It had taken Sarah one bad dream… one bad night to realize it was time to grow up and join the real world. One more bad night dragged her back into the fantasy. Everything she thought she remembered about the Labyrinth and its ruler had been turned upside down. The ethereal fae king who had held her brother's life in a crystal couldn't be the same as the man who ate her food and slept on her couch, but he was. The fear of losing her brother to her own arrogance couldn't be outdone by a couple of shapes on the wall, but it was.

That left her nowhere, just running in circles. Coming to conclusions that made no sense. Asking questions with no answers. If this continued, The Demoness wouldn't have to kill her. Sarah would just think herself into a coma, assuming her head didn't explode fir-

"SARAH!"

She screamed, and so did someone else. It was probably Eric. He never wanted to admit that six-year-old girls sounded manlier than him when he was scared. Stumbling out of her chair, Sarah regained herself long enough not to run. She sucked in air, blinking her eyes until the world came back into focus and she saw not a shadow, but all her friends staring.

Ronnie snickered. Jessie elbowed him. Abby was completely unmoved.

"Okay," she said, writing in her notebook. "I see Sarah is overly caffeinated. Wonderful."

"You drink three cups a day," Jessie remarked.

"That's different. I don't space out and cause a scene in the library."

"Yet," Ronnie mumbled.

"I'm sorry," Sarah said, groping for her chair and missing several times. "I… I didn't… sleep was hard last night, so…"

A couple of kids who were staring at them lost interest and dove back into their theses and final projects. Only one kept looking, his shade-covered eyes fixed in Sarah's direction. It wasn't until she noticed him running his fingers across the page of a seemingly blank book that her heart stopped trying to break out of her chest.

"Well, now that you've had your episode, how is your part of the presentation going?" Abby turned to face Sarah, her pen poised over her notepad.

"Presentation?" Sarah asked.

Abby frowned. Ronnie laughed again and got elbowed again. "Yes, the presentation. Do I have to ask you again?"

"I'm sorry. Again." Sarah shook her head. Maybe she should slap herself, too. "Uh… yeah, I have a few ideas. I didn't have a chance to write them down, but uh, I can get a rough draft to you by…"

There was a shadow on the wall. It was coming from the farthest aisle. Wasn't that where that hand had taken a swipe at her last Friday? This one wasn't as big, but it was tall and thin and had something like a shark fin on its head. It was coming closer. Getting bigger and longer until-

A guy with a mohawk walked over to the nearest empty chair and sat down.

"Sarah!" Abby shouted.

"Thursday!" Sarah yelped. Everyone jumped. "I'll have it by Thursday. Thursday afternoon. I just… had to figure out my schedule for a second."

"Get a planner," Abby said. "This is too important to be all scatterbrained. I mean that for all of you."

"Yes, Comrade."

"And if I hear one more word from you…"

As Abby berated Ronnie for the millionth time, Sarah opened her notebook to her three-year-old notes, immersing herself in the mythical worlds that still made sense to her. The stories never changed. She only had to reevaluate them when peer-reviewing essays. Tracing the shaky lines of her scribbled handwriting, losing herself in the dreams of youth, she could almost forget about deadlines and homework and evil queens out to kill her.

For ten minutes, she revisited the tragic tale of Orpheus and Eurydice. There were a few ways to present their story. They could even use it to segue into a discussion of Hades and Persephone and all the ways to interpret their story. Perhaps they could take it a step further and design a backdrop of the underworld, frame it as wandering spirits telling the stories of gods and heroes. Theoretically, they could have it represent different concepts of the afterlife from around the world, depending on how many stories they were able to integrate. They could get some students from the theater department to help them out, maybe use shadow puppets for…

Shadows. There were six of them on the wall. Most of them were bookshelves. Sarah watched them for ten minutes, but they never turned into anything else.

"Hey," Jessie nudged her. "You okay?"

"Hm? I'm great." Sarah grinned, hoping it didn't look deranged.

Jessie chuckled. "How late are you up that you can't even go to a party with me?"

"Jessie…"

"I'm just saying. All work and no play makes Sarah go cuckoo."

Jessie spun her finger around her head, laughing as Sarah turned her chair away.

"Talk to me after graduation. I will go to all the wild parties you want once I have that diploma." 'Assuming I survive long enough…'

There were no shadows unaccounted for. Nothing serpentine or lupine stalking their table. Every time someone left or walked in, she made a note of it. Nobody looked her way. Nobody spoke to her.

Jessie shrugged. "All right. I'll take your word for it. Never knew you were so secretive, though. You hiding a guy under your bed or something?"

The thought of something lurking under her bed turned every hair on her neck into porcupine needles. Naturally, her moment of shiver-inducing terror left the exact wrong impression on Jessie, whose eyes inflated out of her head.

"Wait a minute," she said.

"There's no guy," Sarah rushed out. "I'm busy. That's all it is."

"Busy with homework or another kind of work?" Jessie wiggled her eyebrows.

Sarah wished she could shove Jessie without dislocating her shoulder. As it was, her notes were not protecting her as they should have. Every time she happened upon a love confession or snippet from a poetic recreation, all she could think about was Jareth at that damn cafe eating cinnamon rolls on her tab.

As if that was romantic!

"Homework," Sarah answered. "Just a lot of homework."

"Hmm…" Jessie smiled. "Well, promise me you'll take a nap after we graduate."

"I plan to sleep for the entire month of June."

"Same here."

They high-fived, which thankfully Abby didn't notice, and got back to work. Well, Jessie did. Sarah got back to dwelling on her potential demise and jumping at every sound. She managed to get the latter under control by putting on headphones. R.E.M. kept her calm enough not to throw the table, but if she thought Michael Stipe's keening vocals would silence the fears gnawing at her skull, she really should've known better.

By the time the last song played, Sarah had completed a whooping half page of almost completely scribbled-out notes. That was progress by some people's definition, so maybe she shouldn't hate herself so much.

"Hades and Persephone," she mumbled, dragging the pen across an already redacted section. "Happily married with a dog. How hard is that to understand?"

"Didn't he kidnap her?" Ronnie asked.

"Depends on your definition of kidnap," said Jessie.

"How about a big reenactment with some heavy metal guitars and chains," Eric said, waving his arms around as if to simulate the rock and roll explosions and half-naked dancing women he was no doubt envisioning. "I know a guy who can hook us up."

"Eric, this is a family event," said Abby. "That means there'll be children present."

"We're teaching them culture," Eric replied. "That and how awesome chains are."

"I like chains," said Chelsea from the end of the table.

"Christ, we are never getting this done," Abby muttered, rubbing her head.

Before Sarah could even think to say something to cheer her up, the light around her darkened. She froze. A shadow.

"May I help you fine students with anything?"

That voice could've given her a heart attack. Hell, she was pretty sure she felt one coming on as she turned her head, horror movie music crescendoing in her ears, and saw Jareth the Goblin King in all his glory standing over their table like nothing in the world had ever been more ordinary.

And Sarah didn't know what was worse, the fact that he had made absolutely no effort whatsoever to disguise himself (was that a cape?) or the fact that the very first thing out of Jessie's mouth was, "Do you have any other books on the Bronze age?"

"I…" Sarah struggled with her words completely unnoticed by anyone. "I… I…"

"Why yes, I do believe we have a few more." Jareth rubbed his chin with one long pianist finger. "You've checked all the 930s?"

"Eh, I might need to look again."

"Jessie," Sarah squeaked.

"Sarah," Jessie said, matching her tone.

"Is there a problem, Miss?" Jareth asked with a cat-like grin.

He was lucky. So fucking lucky they were in public. Because if they weren't, oh boy…

"Jessie, what are you doing?" Sarah muttered through her teeth.

Jessie blinked. "Talking to the librarian?"

"Librarian, what the-" Something caught her eye over Jareth's shoulder. The window reflected her face as the sky outside grew dark. It also showed her her study group, and the man standing over them. Jareth's reflection lacked the absurd hair metal mullet and instead sported short brown hair. The cape and poet's shirt were a pair of khakis and a powder blue polo. The rims of glasses poked out from around his ears. Sarah stared at the reflection, then back at Jareth. Still smiling politely, but with a subtle knowing only she could see. "...right. Librarian. Sorry, I thought you were someone else."

"Not at all," he nodded in satisfaction. "Is there anything I can help you with, Miss?"

"I'm good, thanks."

Sarah picked up her book and started to read, but she was baffled by the gibberish on the page until she spotted the page number at the top right corner and turned the book right side up.

"Ah, Hades and Persephone," Jareth read over her head. "A lovely tale, if misunderstood."

"Sure is," Sarah said, flipping to the next page. He could talk all he wanted, she was not taking the bait.

"A-ha," he said after several seconds of Sarah pretending he was a piece of three-dimensional hyperrealistic wall art. "I see you are already lost in the story. No matter, it is quite engrossing. Persephone planned it so well."

She wasn't taking the bait. She wasn't. She wasn't… dammit! "What do you mean, Persephone planned it?"

Jareth stared at her like he'd missed that. "Is that not the way it's been told to you?"

Sarah narrowed her eyes.

"Oh my. Forgive me. I thought you knew the real story."

"What real story?" Jessie asked, stirring a pot she didn't know existed.

Jareth glanced at Sarah as if to say, 'See? She can play along.' "Well, you see, Demeter was a rather controlling mother. She firmly believed that Persephone would be whisked away by the wind should her mother take her eyes off her for one second. So, she sheltered the poor girl. Buried her in the ground like one of a million seeds. She thought she could keep her daughter hidden from the world forever, but she'd forgotten that all seeds grow into beautiful flowers. For centuries, Persephone longed to bloom. In time, she grew to resent her mother and her role as goddess of the spring. She longed for something new. Something… darker. More passionate."

'You are so full of shit,' Sarah longed with everything she had to say. Or scream, more like it.

When she looked around, even Eric and Ronnie were clinging to his every word.

"That was where the lord of the underworld, Hades, came in. It's not known precisely how they met, but their secret meetings in those rare moments when Demeter's head was turned proved too addicting for just the occasional rendezvous. She wanted more, and so, she hatched a plan."

"Okay, this has been great," Sarah said, loud enough that the study group in the privacy room looked up. "Thank you so much for your incredible wisdom. We all appreciate it, but I think we'd better get back to our studies, so-"

"Are you telling me Hades and Persephone and the whole 'here's why seasons happen' myth is just some trashy romance novel?" Ronnie drawled.

Jareth, being Jareth, smiled. "There's nothing trashy about love, my boy. Do you not love your girlfriend?"

"I don't have one," Ronnie said.

"Really? How strange. Well, regardless, if your concern is that their tale amounts to simple fluff, let me assure you, it was not. What they felt for each other went beyond lust. You see, within each other, they found their true selves."

"That's deep," Eric muttered.

"That's weird," Ronnie said.

"Shut up," Abby snapped.

'I need a drink,' Sarah thought.

"Have you ever noticed how rather benign Hades is despite his reputation? Especially when compared to the rest of the pantheon. Hades always had a softness to him, and it longed for the warmth and joy of a calm spring day. At the same time, Persephone had a dark side, for though spring is a time of growth and life, it can very easily bring only famine. Hades saw the darkness in Persephone and he did not fear it. Persephone saw the light within Hades, and she did not shun it. In each other, they found more than love. They found acceptance. Someone who could know every part of them, and love them all the same. In that way, the balance their marriage creates in the seasons reflects the balance they give each other. For no love, no matter how powerful, can last without it."

He looked directly at Sarah. His smile didn't quite match the daggers she was glaring at him. Nobody noticed except Jessie, whose awkward stare Sarah wished she couldn't feel crawling up her neck. At least no one else cared to check for others' reactions. They were all too busy mooning over Jareth.

"We've got to include this in the presentation," Abby muttered.

Jareth looked like someone had just handed him a gold statuette. "But look at me, taking up all your time with my rambling. Let me not interrupt you any further."

"Thank you very much," Sarah said.

"Why so soon?" Jessie asked at the same time.

Sarah shot her a look, but Jessie just put on her halo and whistled.

"As it happens, I have work of my own to complete. I wish you all well in your studies and who knows? Perhaps one day our paths will cross again. Until then."

He bowed- actually bowed- and then glided off into the shelves, merging with the books until nothing remained. The group was left to blink themselves out of the fog he left behind, wondering if any of that had really happened, while Sarah searched her bag for something cool enough to soothe the ache beating at her skull.

Ronnie whispered, "That guy was an agent for Professor Prince."

Blinks and blank stares all around.

"What?" Jessie asked.

"I'm just saying, he's a handsome British-sounding guy who knows a lot about folklore and looks at you like he can see through your clothes. That doesn't happen twice on the same campus!"

"You're saying you want them to see you without your clothes?" Eric smirked.

"No!" Ronnie snapped, "It's just weird. I'm telling you, they're in cahoots with each other. Trying to catch us slacking off so they can fail us."

"I should give you my cousin's number," Jessie said, "sounds like you two would get along."

As they debated the logistics and necessity of school-sponsored espionage, Sarah studied every inch of the lounge and surrounding bookshelves one last time. She took stock of every shadow. The ones that had changed were easy to interpret. No one was watching them. No one was even around to see them. Only the real librarian, caught between the pages of a book at the front desk. She'd been sitting in that exact spot two hours ago when they arrived, and she'd probably be there again tomorrow morning.

Jareth, at least for the moment, was nowhere to be found.

Which just meant he'd be at her place tonight watching Judge Judy on her TV. It was honestly a hilarious mental image.

"So," Jessie said, tapping her pen on the air, "is that the guy?"

"What guy?" Sarah asked, scribbling nonsense in her notebook and hoping it would turn into something.

"You know who," Jessie replied. "He seemed pretty interested in you."

Great. No stopping her now. Not unless Sarah set Abby on her for wasting time, but nobody was that cruel. "How do you know he wasn't just really passionate about Greek mythology?"

"I've never seen any mythology scholar look like that while lecturing," Jessie said. "Look, if he's a creep, then fine, he can fuck off. I'm just saying, you guys looked pretty enamored with each other."

Enamored? There was one hell of a word. If Sarah made a list of words that described how she felt about Jareth, enamored wouldn't even scrape the bottom. Closest would be residual frustration from teenage hormone-addled lust. That would fade in a year or two. Become just another embarrassing childhood peculiarity like the year she spent insisting that she'd marry David Cassidy one day. Sure, maybe he'd pop up in a few more late-night fantasies, and maybe she'd think about him once or twice while showering, but those were just intrusive thoughts. Completely involuntary.

So no, she was not enamored with Jareth, and she'd love to tell Jessie that, but it would probably just lead to more questions she couldn't possibly answer without earning herself a trip to the nuthouse. Or worse, Jessie's cousin's phone number.

"He's not a creep, he's just a guy I met once," Sarah said. "Trust me, nothing is going on there."

"If you say so," Jessie said.

They crawled through the rest of their study session with only a few mumbled words from Abby and a sneeze from Eric. Sarah said her goodbyes and made it three steps toward home before the sun started to set and shadows started creeping along her feet. She took a taxi.

At home, she counted to three before opening the door. Jareth was on her couch with a bowl of popcorn. The TV was on. It was some kind of action movie.

"Evening," she muttered.

"Evening" Jareth said. He popped another piece of popcorn into his mouth and offered her the bowl. "Hungry?"

Actually, she was starving. She'd somehow failed to notice before now. Dropping the bag, Sarah yielded common sense to her stomach and flopped down on the couch, shoving a fistful of cheap microwave popcorn into her mouth. It tasted rich with cheese and herb seasoning on fluffy clouds of starch.

"Woah," she said, savoring the aftertaste, "that… is not the popcorn I get."

"Yes, I took the liberty of preparing this… food for myself, but it tasted dreadful, so I modified the recipe a tad. I hope you don't mind."

"Not at all," Sarah said. "Think you can do something with my frozen dinners?"

"We shall see," he said.

They settled in to watch the movie. It was Die Hard, an interesting choice for a king from a medieval world. Regardless, Jareth was enamored (ha…) with John McClain's heroic quest to rescue his wife and kill as many fake terrorists as violently and improbably as possible. He laughed when the body fell into the policeman's car. He watched with bated breath as that one coked-up hostage tried to negotiate and got his head blown off.

"I'm surprised," he said over yet another earth-shattering explosion. "You haven't yet asked me about today."

"Should I?" Sarah said, reaching for more popcorn. The bowl remained full no matter how much she took.

"You walked in here prepared to, I'm sure."

"So you had to bribe me with food and an action movie first, right?" Sarah snorted. "Trust me, I was planning to give you hell for today. Lucky for you, I spent the entire ride home jumping at shadows, thinking every single person on the street was going to punch my heart out of my chest. Now I'm exhausted."

Jareth nodded and patted her hand. "Even when she is dormant, she finds her way into your head. It's one of her greatest gifts."

'Now I know where you get it from,' Sarah thought. She sunk lower into the cushions, closing her heavy eyes. "Just don't do it again, please."

"If you mean directly interacting with you and your friends in public, very well," Jareth said. "I cannot, however, stop watching you entirely. She will jump at the slightest chance to catch you, so you must always be within my sight."

"I wasn't on the way home," Sarah said.

"That's what you think."

The movie ended and a new one began. Die Hard 2. Not quite as good as the first one, but decent enough to sit through. Sarah yawned and stretched, working a few kinks out of her neck. She usually waited another hour or two to go to bed, but her eyes sank fast.

"You can sleep," Jareth said. "I would make sure you are safe."

"Watching me sleep now, huh?" Sarah raised an eyebrow.

"When you say it like that it sounds ghastly."

"What way can you say it where it doesn't?"

The volume on the TV lowered. Sarah didn't know how- the remote was right there on the table- until Jareth closed the gap between them. It happened in an instant, and not because of magic. She saw him slide across the couch, filling her nose with a cloud of his scent. It was rough and smokey, like cologne but good. A single gloved finger stroked her chin, cutting off a half-formed gasp before it ever came out.

"Sarah," he whispered. His voice made her heart stop. "I watch you while you sleep."

A split second of silence, and then laughter burst forth from Sarah with the strength of a tidal wave.

"Oh-oh my god," she collapsed on the couch, clutching her stomach and convulsing. "You- you did not just- oh my god."

"Well, that isn't quite the reaction I expected," he said, folding his arms, "but you're right. There is no good way to say it."

"Thanks for trying," Sarah wheezed. Her laughter wouldn't subside for another few minutes, and even after the waves ceased, her mind would occasionally return to that ultra-serious face and deep, husky intone, and she'd be grinning all over again. It even distracted her from the butterflies fluttering through her stomach. "You know, you're a lot different than I remember."

"Am I?" Jareth asked.

Another terrorist was dead on the screen, Sarah waited for the scene to play out, it was one of her favorites. "All the time I spent in the Labyrinth, I never took you for one with a sense of humor. Least, not one I recognized. I'm starting to think I remembered you wrong."

"Don't question yourself," Jareth said. He took another fistful of popcorn, which was immediately replaced in the bowl. "You remember me as you wanted me to be. You cowered and so I was frightening. It's just as true now as it was then."

The Escher Room, the part of that night Sarah thought about most and remembered the least. Her old obsession with the geometric wonders of those strange staircases didn't take into account the true disorientation and madness of such a world. It had haunted her dreams for weeks after. She'd wake up in a cold sweat, clutching one of the dolls she still kept under the bed. She'd grab whatever was nearby and drop it, making sure up was still in the right direction. Every time, she was alone. She never even heard his voice. Maybe that was how she started to forget. She let herself believe it was just another shadow for the light to chase away.

"So who are you really?" she asked. "What's the real Goblin King like?"

"You'd like to know, wouldn't you?" Jareth said.

There was still a bit of a growl in his voice. It sent a shiver running through her. "I wouldn't mind."

He lifted his chin, regal like a true king. She might even be compelled to bow if he'd been on a throne. "Neither would I."

He wasn't going to say anything else. Something in his tone told her not to bother trying. The movie went on, explosions and gunfire peppering the screen. It hit Sarah's ears somewhere below the echo of Jareth's voice. His words wouldn't leave her, driving the writer, the folklorist, and the therapist in her into a frenzy. She didn't know which one to let out first.

In the end, it didn't matter. The picture and the words and the living room were spinning, meshing together until Sarah was conscious of nothing except the floor under her feet. Then that was gone, too. She was in the air. It felt like she'd only just closed her eyes, but the TV was off now and Jareth was carrying her.

"Rest now," he said, bringing her to her bedroom. "We've both had a long day."

"Mmm-hmm," Sarah muttered, sucking his perfumed shirt into her nostrils. "You're no Hades, you know."

The non-sequitur, which didn't even make sense to her, didn't phase him. "Well, you're not much of a Persephone."

"No, probably not."

Sarah settled into bed as Jareth draped the covers over her. He might've tucked her in, but she wasn't sure and he was gone before she could say good night.

As she sunk back into a blissful slumber, a wrecking ball crashed into her.

"He was carrying me," she whispered out loud, "and I liked it."

Her eyes bugged out, her heart began to pound… and then she rolled over and put the pillow over her head.

Fuck it. She'd deal with it in the morning.