A/N: Much love to all following along. Your kind words and adds are appreciated!

Disclaimer: Labyrinth is not mine.

Chapter 4: Entering the Investigation

All things considered, Toby thought most of the meeting at the station had gone better than expected. Apart from that last minute.

After Grog's sudden personality shift, he'd heeded Toby's warnings to keep still. The singing was forgotten. Hands were left un-licked. True to his word, Toby had clicked on the sirens for the last few minutes of the drive to the station, and chuckled when Grog's eyes lit up as he mimicked the whirring. It was helpful to know it didn't take much to snap Grog back to his normal enthusiasm. An overly excited spy seemed more likely to help than one afflicted with a depression.

It was late when they pulled into the station. Toby had radioed that they were on their way during the drive—another gadget which added to Grog's delight—and Lieutenant Murdock was waiting for them outside. He eyed Toby and man-goblin Grog speculatively after they'd parked.

"Danon said you were bringing a goblin, Williams."

Toby assumed his boss, Chief Danon, had filled Murdock in on the plan. "Yes, sir," Toby nodded, pulling Grog again by the coat sleeve up the station steps. "This is him. I can show you inside. Is the chief here?"

Lieutenant Murdock shook his head. "No, he was called away last minute. He left me in charge." Murdock, having recently seen his fair share of unusual characters in his city, took one last look at the unknown man, bouncing on his feet at Williams' side, but beckoned in the pair without another word. He had been told that only Williams had access to a goblin, so there wasn't much to do except hear him out.

"C'mon, Grog. Stay close and quiet," Toby whispered. His career at the department was on the line if this backfired; he couldn't afford to have Grog lick his coworkers, burst their eardrums, or worse. Based on his experience with the siren, Grog seemed to listen to him when he promised a reward. It was worth a shot to try it again. Offering food seemed like the safest bet, so he dangled the carrot. "If you stay calm and quiet through this meeting, I'll pick you up McDonald's afterwards." If Grog knew something as obscure as a siren, Toby figured he had heard of the prolific burger chain. At the promise, Grog released something vaguely like a squeal, and Toby grinned. Goblins weren't nearly as complicated as he'd thought.

Most of the station's lights were off, but as they walked to the back, Toby could see that the conference room from earlier was fully lit. Several inquisitive heads turned when they entered. Their crisp black suits stood out from Toby's police uniform, leading him to believe the federal authorities weren't deterred by meeting at this late hour. The tall stacks of paper and photographs strewn across the table also suggested they'd been there for some time.

"Williams, let me introduce you to Special Agents Collier and Steele. They're our POCs at the Bureau and Agency." Murdock nodded pointedly at each man at the end of the long table as he named them, but neither so much as twitched a smile. "They'll be coordinating the brunt of the operation."

Toby nodded his own head briefly at each man, finally letting go of Grog's coat sleeve when they'd made it inside. Murdock shut the door behind them.

"Go ahead, Williams."

At the lieutenant's order, Toby swung his pack around to grab the crystal he'd stuffed inside. It was still shimmering with what seemed like glitter confetti; the inside similar to the little airport snow globes he'd collected as a kid, but this shell strangely warm to the touch. As before, he held it in both hands as he wished. The Goblin King hadn't exactly told him how to put Grog back to normal; hopefully, a clear command was enough.

"I wish Grog looked like a goblin again."

Murdock sputtered briefly as the man morphed and shrunk into a brownish-grey…something, drowning in his now oversized coat. After he caught himself, the creature shrugged off his jacket and inched closer to Williams, wrapping an arm around one of his legs. Murdock had seen some agency photos, but they didn't do the real thing justice. The creature's face reminded him of worn leather, the seams held together by beady brown eyes, a protruding snout, and short horns which curved tight towards a small tuft of black hair. A goblin, he figured, based on what Williams had promised, but he had not expected its sudden and almost inexplicable transformation. Williams had some questions to answer. He took a quick look at Collier and Steele; they too seemed a bit caught off-guard, trading odd glances, but remained seated. It was unclear if they knew what had occurred. Murdock frowned, but decided to hold his questions for later.

"Impressive trick, Mr. Williams," one of the agents finally offered, pushing back his chair to stand and walk around towards him. "We appreciate your prompt cooperation in this matter. We'll take it from here." He stretched out a hand towards Grog, but Grog didn't take it.

Instead, Toby felt Grog clench his leg tighter and looked down to see him staring up at him with concern and a small shake of his head. Toby frowned, but remembered the Goblin King had been pretty clear about keeping an eye on his goblin; Grog couldn't just be passed off to some Fed he'd never met.

"Sorry, sir, but I'm afraid he has to stick with me. It's part of my deal on borrowing him."

The agent finally looked surprised. "Borrowing him? From whom?"

"Well," Toby glanced down again, but Grog didn't give him any signal about how to handle that question. Sarah had been adamant about him not mentioning the Goblin King, however. That seemed safest given what he knew about the situation. "I don't really know him; it's my sister who contacted him for help. I just picked the goblin up."

"He belongs to this man?"

Toby had seen enough to know the Goblin King wasn't a man, per se, but something otherworldly and magical who only looked vaguely human. Still, that was bound to bring up questions that he couldn't answer, so he just nodded.

The agent glanced briefly at his counterpart still at the table. Toby didn't see any obvious gesture from the seated man, but the agent in front of him seemed to have gotten a signal because he turned back and nodded sharply. "Very well, Mr. Williams. Take a seat. I think you may be of further assistance, but this is strictly confidential."

"Of course, sir." Toby bent down to grab Grog and lifted him into one of the wheeled office chairs before finding his own. Murdock followed, all the while keeping focus on Grog out of the corner of his eye. Neither agent spoke for several seconds, also watching Grog with interest, so Toby took the lead. "This is Grog. I've already filled him in on what he needs to do while undercover. He's offered to listen closely and ask questions, as needed. You'll just need to let him know who to pay attention to, and what sort of things to listen for."

The yet-to-speak agent slid a small manila folder down the table. Toby caught it just before it skidded off the edge, and opened it to find a series of photos. Most were of poor quality, but Toby recognized goblins in a few, and several other otherworldly creatures in the others. He assumed them to be the dwarves and faeries he'd overheard agents mention earlier. The side view of a man face—the one he'd seen several times on the news—was near the bottom of the packet.

"Recognize any of them?"

"Not personally, no. But there are goblins in a few."

"Then this isn't the man you borrowed the goblin from?"

"Definitely not," Toby shook his head. Although most of his face was obscured, the man in the photo had considerably darker coloring that the Goblin King. He passed the photo to Grog, but he too shook his head, albeit more vigorously. "Why do you think he's the one who took Representative Olson's son?"

The agent who slid the file considered Toby for a second, but then searched through a pile to his left and pulled out a clear evidence bag. He sent it down the table in similar fashion. "One of my agents found this near one of their gatherings after they left. They must not have realized they dropped it. Representative Olson has confirmed his son was wearing it the night he went missing."

Toby took a good look at the small red knitted hat with the initials D.O. embroidered in white sealed inside. "Was forensics able to find anything?" It was newer science, but if the kidnapper had left fingerprints at the scene, maybe a stray hair or two, they may be able to narrow down the suspects.

"The lab was unable to process the sample we found."

Toby looked up quickly. He hadn't done much work with the forensics team, but he'd never heard that they were unable to process a sample. Obtained inconclusive findings—sure, but they'd always had some sort of result. The agent didn't seem inclined to offer more explanation on that point, however. Toby exhaled, and slid the bag back towards the agents.

"I see why you need to get someone in there. How long do we have to prep before their next meeting?"

"We are working on figuring that out. We'll let you know when we hear, but it will likely be a last-minute call." The agent checked his watch and frowned. "We have a few other leads to look into. Can you meet us back here tomorrow morning? Ten?"

"Yes, sir." Toby recognized the dismissal, and stood, catching Grog's chair as it swiveled. Grog jumped off the chair without orders when Toby jutted his head at the door. Toby grinned when he grabbed onto his leg again.

They had almost made it out of the conference room when one of the agents made one last request.

"And make sure to bring your sister, Mr. Williams. I've got a few questions for her, too."

Toby stopped in his tracks, cringing. Sarah was definitely going to kill him.

Sarah made sure to lock her door as soon as she'd closed it, exhaling deeply. She wasn't confident it would keep the king out, given his inexplicable ability to paralyze her on her couch, but it seemed better than doing nothing.

He'd at least know she meant to keep him away.

Not that he seemed to care about her second demand. It had taken him all of two seconds to press up against her, just daring her to flee. She wasn't even sure that was what he'd wanted; he'd seemed exceedingly pleased when she'd stayed steady. She growled and made her way over to her closet. She'd likely never figure him out. With any luck, Toby would call off this farce in the morning, and she'd never have to see him again.

She changed into a long grey shirt bearing the emblem of her alma mater and soft cotton shorts, and after carefully checking that he wasn't in the hall or bathroom, washed up. The second bedroom door was shut; presumably, the king had settled in for the night. She too was shot, and dragged herself into bed. The faint scent of something familiarly masculine whisked her quickly off to sleep.

Bliss was temporary.

*BRINNNNG* *BRINNNNG*

Sarah snapped awake at the ringing, heart pounding from the abrupt wake-up call. It only took her a second to realize it wasn't the typical late-night fire alarm, but her home phone. She checked her nightstand clock: 12:30. Toby. He was the only person who would bother her at this hour.

*BRINNNNG*

Sarah threw back her comforter and rushed out her door to grab the phone in the hallway before it hit the final ring.

"Hello? Toby?"

"Sorry to wake you, Sarah. It couldn't wait."

"It's fine," she audibly sighed. "Just please tell me you're dropping your plan."

"Err."

She knew that pause too well, and leaned her forehead against the wall in frustration. "What did you do now, Toby?"

"Can we come back over? We're done here for the night."

"We?"

"Grog and I," Toby explained, and Sarah could have sworn she heard the goblin yell a 'hi, lady' in the background.

She frowned. Toby had thought they'd be needed at the station all night. With what she'd seen earlier, there was no way the goblin had transformed into a clandestine expert in the span of several hours. Something was definitely up.

"Knock three times when you get here." She didn't wait for his reply before she slammed the phone back into the holster as if it had offended her. The low chuckle behind her came without warning.

"The boy already needs assistance, I assume? How terribly predictable."

She turned, ready to tell him she'd had enough of him insulting Toby, but the words died in her throat, felled by dark silk and bare skin.

He was leaning casually against his door frame, dressed only in black silken pants which hung low at his waist. The pants were nowhere near as tight as his normal attire, but were somehow all the more sinful, aided by a pale expanse of fine lines and lean muscle. His head tilted in amusement when after a long moment she only stared. She processed it all without thinking. She should have expected it, but he was unthinkable. Terrible. Beautiful. Her pulse skipped. As if he'd heard it, he slowly crossed his arms and the move caused his sickle-shaped pendant to glint like his eyes; a look that just dared her to turn away and pretend he wasn't there.

The knowing smirk on his face telling her he knew that she couldn't.

She would remember later that she did try. Her failure was only because he'd surprised her. He was distractingly beautiful—even she could admit it—but she convinced herself a glance at any half-naked male in her hallway under those circumstances surely would have caused the same response.

Surely.

Sarah, with some monumental effort, eventually forced herself to look only at his face. The familiar grin was an easier focus point than the rest of him, at the moment. "I don't know what he needs," she responded, glad the retort was steadier than her pulse. "They're coming over."

"Now?" A twinge of familiar displeasure accompanied the question, and his arms dropped.

"Yes, now," she sighed, recalling his brother's claim that it couldn't wait. The implications distracted her momentarily her from the Goblin King's chest. "It sounded important." She rubbed at her temples, feeling the headache from earlier forming again. She needed tea. Strong tea.

Steady footsteps followed her to the kitchen, but no closer. Sarah thumbed through her tea chest until she found the chamomile, and filled one of the mugs near the sink with water. "Do you want tea? Chamomile?" She asked tiredly, knowing he was still staring at her from the doorway. She had already resigned herself to playing hostess.

"Is that what you're concocting?"

"Yes," she said, almost snorting at his medieval term. She had a nagging feeling she would be 'concocting' a great deal of herbal tea to survive Toby's bargain. She stuck her mug into the microwave and hit the two.

"Chamomile, then. Plain."

She knew better than to expect even a syllable of gratitude. His mug followed hers into the microwave minutes later. When it beeped, she grabbed both steaming mugs and brought them to the doorway, exhaling. "Here," she offered with a little more force than she intended, handing him his mug and quickly moving past him with clenched teeth. Of course he hadn't yet bothered to put on a shirt.

"Something the matter, Sarah?"

She knew he'd noticed her haste; his question dripped with amusement instead of his minutes-ago displeasure with Toby's interruption.

Three sharp knocks saved her from having to respond, and she unchained the door to scowl at Toby. He quickly thrust forward a carton of fries as a peace offering, and she sighed. Damn it. She took them, rolling her eyes, and waved Toby inside. She'd been rightly concerned about his visit if he was trying to preemptively apologize with fried food. He knew her weaknesses.

The Goblin King had returned to his spot on her couch and was carefully sipping his tea. In the seconds it had taken her to open the door, he had changed into tight grey breeches and a loose white poet's shirt. He eyed Sarah's fries with obvious interest.

Sarah ignored him.

She turned back to Toby and Grog. The goblin had changed back from his man-goblin form and was happily munching on his own carton of fries, almost glued to Toby's leg. Her brother was clearly bribing him with snacks, as well. "What do you need, Toby?"

Toby winced. "I need another favor. I need you to come with me to the station tomorrow."

"What for?"

"I..ugh..may have mentioned that you helped me get the goblin."

"Toby. If you weren't my brother, so help me, I would…"

"They just want to ask you a few questions!" He cut in quickly, hoping to clarify what happened. "I think they just want some sort of explanation about where Grog came from. I sort of told them he didn't belong to the guy they're investigating."

"How fortuitous."

Sarah froze when the Goblin King's low drawl interrupted the argument. "What?" She shrieked at him, but his pointed look reminded her of his other bargain: he wanted to be involved with the investigation. Did he actually expect her to bring him along? Did he not care that they were investigating her? "You can't possibly believe it's a good idea for me to show up at a police station. You realize they probably suspect I have something to do with the kidnapping?"

"You do have a history of misplacing children," he replied easily, and Sarah sputtered. He didn't even flinch. He took a casual sip of his tea then set it aside, leaning back and propping his boots—again—on her victimized coffee table. "Your less than desirable childcare skills aside, the boy indicated they had a male suspect, and only sought you to speak of my goblin. Your questioning should be brief."

The plan was sounding worse by the minute. "You want me to tell them the goblin is yours?"

"Really, Sarah," his stare was withering. "That would hardly dissuade their questions." Before Sarah could follow-up on what he was thinking, his focus moved towards the door. Lower, with a noticeable scowl, but it cleared quickly when he looked upwards. "You simply told them Sarah procured the goblin?"

"Yeah," Toby nodded. "And that he belonged to a guy she knew."

The Goblin King said nothing when Toby finished. Sarah assumed that second detail complicated whatever idea the king had planned to suggest. Perhaps, he was reconsidering the meeting? "This is a bad idea, Goblin King. There's no way for me to explain how I got Grog without them suspecting me of something. Not if this cult they're tracking has goblins."

"No, likely not given what they've been told," he agreed, but the familiar drawl knotted Sarah's stomach. "But you will not need to explain it."

"I..won't?"

"No. I can ensure that aspect of their inquiry is forgotten." He looked at her pointedly again, calling a crystal. With another twist, the crystal shifted. "For it to take, however, I will need to be there. It will not work on one I've never seen."

The knots twisted again. Sarah knew exactly what he was suggesting. She wasn't at all comfortable with tampering with the investigation, but she knew firsthand his spell would cause one to forget whatever it was they were seeking. And she needed the cops to forget she was involved. Although Toby trusted that the government wasn't concerned by their knowledge of magical creatures, she wasn't nearly as naive.

Damn it.

The Goblin King was openly grinning now, as if he'd read several pages ahead in the story and was spoiling the ending. He knew she lacked alternatives.

She breathed out slowly and turned to Toby to fulfill her bargain, but he was looking between her and the Goblin King curiously, understandably confused by the Goblin King's proposition—she had left out the bit about enchanted fruit and the masquerade in her retelling of her run. It'd seemed too...personal. And certainly irrelevant to the heart of the story. In any case, now was not the time to fill him in on those details.

"I'll go, Toby. But the Goblin King is coming with me."

Toby knew better than to argue.

A/N: I'm not a cop or a special agent, but I've tried to keep the investigative details and lingo realistic. If I've mangled something, please let me know!