A/N: Much love as always to those following along. More mysteries below, but there are answers, I promise. Even answers apart from Sarah's questions.

Disclaimer: Labyrinth is not mine.

Chapter 7: Otherworldly Suspects

Jareth kept her tight against his side as they strode down the station steps towards her car. The restraint was the only thing keeping her from punching something until it splintered.

Sarah had predicted that going to the police station would be a horrible mistake. She had been wrong: it had been disastrous. The kind of disaster which epic sonnets memorialize, warning future mortals about naïve heroines who rest their hopes on secretive kings and then charge blindly into battle. She had no idea what she was involved in, but it seemed like no simple kidnapping. She didn't know the kid. She barely knew the politician. It was almost unfathomable that the kidnapping of a politician's son would uncork a secret she had told no one but Toby some twenty years later. And even he only knew the basics. Who would want to throw her under the bus? The only others who knew about her run were in the Underground.

Were supposed to be, at least. If Jareth's instincts were right, there was yet another magical intruder in her world. Someone or something or multiple somethings in the station. Visitors? Suspects? ...Cops? Sarah could connect the dots. Toby promised he hadn't told anyone about the Labyrinth. He was a terrible liar, so the only other way those agents could have known about her time in the Labyrinth would have been from someone from the Underground to have told them. And someone must have given them the book. Jareth's surprise had appeared sincere - more instinct than intent - when the agent mentioned his title. Her leg would have the bruises tomorrow to prove it. Unless he was an exceptionally gifted actor as well as a king, he wasn't the culprit.

That didn't mean, of course, that she didn't plan on making him prove he wasn't involved. He would explain why he refused to hold up his end of the bargain with the spell and instead dragged them in deeper. He would damn well answer every last one of her questions. Straight-up. No deflection.

He released her at the driver's side door and the sudden loss of his warmth was jarring. Neither said a word until two car doors were slammed.

"Who did you tell?"

His question rolled off easily and Sarah frowned. Jareth couldn't possibly believe she'd been carelessly talking about the Labyrinth. She wasn't foolish enough to bind herself to a lifetime in a psych ward. "Only Toby. And you? Who did you tell? Who in the Underground knows?"

"Those, unfortunately, are two different questions."

"Now is not the time to bullshit me, Jareth," she snapped, turning the key in the ignition. "Someone gave them that book and told them I'd wished away someone to you." She ignored the glare and faced him head-on. "Was it you?"

He eyed her coolly and the sheen around him flashed, the faintest hint of color above his eyes blipping in then out. "Do you truly believe I would tell your authorities such a thing? When doing so would draw unwanted attention to me?"

No, she didn't think so. Not after he purposefully glamoured himself so they wouldn't notice his unnatural features. Not with the hostility he'd exhibited after being accused. But truthfully, she knew next to nothing about him and his motives for being here were still unknown. He'd also failed to cast the agreed-upon spell. Failed to even attempt it. He was still staring through her. "Why didn't you cast the spell?"

A muscle in his jaw ticked, and Sarah blinked several times as she awaited her answer, keeping the pressure of her stare steady. Eventually, it forced his response. "The book," he answered, turning away.

"The book? That was why the spell was absolutely necessary!"

"Do you recall how you obtained that book, Sarah?" He looked back. There was fatigue laced through the sharpness of his words. Something patient, but pained, in his expression.

Sarah pulled back. Where she obtained it? It had been a gift, but she had never confirmed from who or where'd they'd found it. She remembered when at least. She had been fourteen. And it had been her birthday. Her mother - her real mother - had been starring in her latest play on London's West End. Something by Shakespeare, but she'd been too upset to care about the title. It was clear even to Sarah that Linda wouldn't be coming back. Linda's career had always come first. Never her father. Never her. When she'd left, her father began to see a woman he'd met through one of his firm associates. And then his attention to Sarah waned. He'd taken Karen out the night of her birthday, celebrating some big case he'd won earlier that day. He'd given Sarah something before they left - for the life of her she couldn't recall what - but it must have been wrong because Sarah remembered locking herself in her room and crying. It was only when she was too exhausted to feel that she noticed the square brown package on her vanity. No tags, note, or postage: just the book. She had always assumed her mother had sent it from London and her father had removed the outer packaging. Linda had sent nothing else. But she'd never asked.

Jareth waited for her to process her memories, silent. His pointed question, however, had already made clear Linda was not responsible.

"Was it you? Did you leave it on my vanity?"

He frowned. "It is of the Underground, but not something that can be left. It is something created. The books are unusual magic." He saw her open her mouth and cut off her question, shaking his head slightly, "no, not the magic I mentioned. There was something else in the station."

Sarah's brow furrowed, still confused at just what exactly he meant. "You seemed surprised when he pulled out the book. If the books are magic, couldn't you sense it?"

"Whoever provided it to them made that impossible. It had to have been masked. It is powerful magic," and he hesitated, clenching teeth, "and in that proximity, not something I can cast around." When Sarah said nothing, her stare still fierce, he repeated his earlier question. "Do you truly believe I desired the attention of your authorities? There were no better options."

No, she was even more certain he did not, his frustration with the book now also plainly evident. For some reason, she still needed to hear him say it to feel true. She willed her eyes to focus on his own, watching carefully for any sign of a tell. "You didn't give them the book?"

"No."

Resolute. No hesitation. Not even a customary thinning of lids or a twitch of lips. It was perhaps the first straight answer he'd given her, and she breathed out once through her nose, returning her eyes to the wheel to back out of the spot. She believed him. Which meant someone else below must have talked. "Besides my friends, who else in the Underground would know about my time in the Labyrinth?"

He didn't respond for a long moment, and Sarah stopped just at the edge of the lot, looking over at him again. His focus stayed forward, but Sarah could see the strain at his mouth, the slight tension in his neck as a vein pulsed. This was far more than frustration. If he suspected someone, she needed to know. "Who, Jareth?"

"I cannot answer that," he bit out.

"Why not?" He had been surprisingly responsive to her prior questions in the car. Irritated, but responsive. More so than before the interrogation, at least.

"Because I do not know, Sarah. I do not know who has access to the records of the High Court."

Oh. Anger stirred by ignorance. She returned her eyes to the road. That, she understood. She breathed out again, her anger at him fading. Knowing Jareth's arrogance, she believed it too.

"I don't even have access."

His solemn admission caught her off-guard. "Wait a minute. Why does this court have records of your Labyrinth that you can't get to?" She slowed as the light faded to yellow, and turned to catch his eye. "Jesus!" She slammed the breaks, unprepared for the sight of the unmasked Goblin King at her side. "Way to warn me."

At her outburst, the tension in his face relaxed. A corner of lips quirked. "Warn you?"

The change was stark, almost incomparable to his minutes ago restrained fury. As fast as the switching of a light. She gestured vaguely to her face before waving her hand over at him. "You dropped the glamour."

The flash of teeth was brilliant, if not unexpected. "Its purpose has been served. Now you may regard me all you wish."

Sarah's fingers curled deeper into the leather of the wheel. She thought she'd been making progress on straight answers, but he was insufferable. Mercurial. Beautiful and a surprisingly good cook, too, damn it—but insufferable. It didn't dissuade her questions. "Why does this court have your records?"

He scoffed. "They are more yours than mine, Sarah. It was your challenge."

"Alright; why does this court have my records, then?" She didn't think he would respond. For several seconds, the corner of his mouth just tightened. Even when he spoke, the line barely slipped through clenched teeth.

"The High Court is known to amuse themselves with the struggles of mortals."

Sarah felt the edge of his words slice across her skin. He was vague but pointed; the tip of his barb drenched to maim, if not mortally wound, for some unknown offense. To her recollection, his disdain was hypocritical. He'd been similarly amused when she'd wished Toby away. "Amuse themselves?"

"Yes," he said simply.

He seemed disinclined to elaborate. His hesitation tapped into her anxiety of who might want her secrets unleashed, riling up knots that seemed destined to bind her insides together. She pulled into the grocery lot and grabbed his shoulder harshly. "What do they do?"

He jumped slightly before tracking his eyes from her arm to his shoulder, then, back up into her eyes, unflinching. "Are you sure you wish to know, Sarah?" His voice low, and tinged with warning. "It will not put your mind at ease."

A bit of her bravado slipped. She had wanted answers…but perhaps this was one better suited for the inside of her apartment. Where she could smash objects, as needed. Still, there was one last question worth asking now. "Do you think this court is involved with this kidnapping?"

He frowned slightly. "It is possible."

"Then I want to know." She unbuckled herself quickly before she pushed open her door. "When I finish in here." She shifted to get up but then leaned back against the seat again. "You aren't allergic to anything, are you?"

"Planning on killing me?"

"Not yet. I need you to first figure out who is telling the agents about us, and get me out of this mess."

"That's not much of an incentive to assist," he deadpanned.

She sighed and pulled herself from the seat. "I'm just getting groceries. Since it's clear this isn't going to resolve itself today, I don't want to buy something that you can't eat. So?"

"I am unaware of any mortal food that would harm me."

She nodded, then slammed the door. That was good enough for her.

Toby understood why Danon had wanted to show the Olsons Grog—it quieted them immediately. Neither Olson asked a single question once he'd turned. Mr. Olson at one point looked like he'd swallowed something excessively sweet, his smile puckering oddly, but he too just shook Danon's hand before promptly leaving his office. Danon called back that he'd keep them updated. It was unclear either heard it.

"I don't think they expected to see a goblin, sir," Toby chuckled after they'd left. "They know you suspect goblins in the kidnapping, right?"

"Yes. They've been advised." Chief Danon took off his glasses to rub at his eyes before slipping them back on, plainly fatigued. "Collier and Steele wanted to see you again when we were done here. Just wait at your desk. I don't know how long they'll be with your sister."

"Yes, sir."

Toby returned Grog to his man-goblin form before stepping out himself. The hallways were still busy, and he didn't know who else was in on the op. The agents had warned him to keep the investigation confidential. Grog was not something Toby could pass off as a part of everyday business.

Toby's desk was near the back of the cubicles on the second floor. They took the stairs. While Grog might have been thrilled at the invention, considering his latest quirk, Toby felt it was better not to risk allowing him near flashing buttons that would call the fire department. Or worse: stall the elevator. His affinity for shiny objects would be something they'd have to work out before his going uncover.

A stack of reports awaited him at his desk and Toby sighed, realizing his assistance in the most important case the office had, probably ever, hadn't encouraged his superiors to cut him any slack. He tossed a highlighter and a pad of paper at Grog in the hopes of distracting him before grabbing the topmost file. Traffic citations. Wonderful.

"Williams."

Toby looked up to see Murdock leaning against the edge of his cubby wall. Murdock glanced towards Grog, who had taken to chewing on the cap of the highlighter, before shaking off the oddity. His brow furrowed.

"How did you do that?"

Toby had a good guess what he meant. Still. "Do what?"

Murdock shook his head at Grog again, frowning. "Bringing him. Transforming him. Changing him back." He crossed his arms. "Are you involved with this cult?"

"What? No! I just borrowed him from someone," Toby insisted. "I hadn't heard anything about the cult until yesterday."

Murdock watched Williams closely, but he appeared sincere. It was the same explanation he'd given yesterday. Murdock nodded. "You mentioned last night he was someone your sister knew?"

Toby stilled, suddenly realizing Sarah and the Goblin King's plan wouldn't kill the story about his sister's involvement; he'd forgotten to tell Sarah more than the agents knew about what he'd said last night. Murdock knew, too. Damn it.

"Uh…yes, sir." There was nothing else to say now. The king would just have to spell Murdock when he was done with the agents. He would just be careful not to tell anyone else. Murdock knew it was a confidential op; it was possible no one besides him and Danon knew about the goblin in his office anyway, and there'd be no one he could tell. Hopefully. He was due for a break.

Murdock pursed his lips, pausing to wait for more. Williams' penchant for overtalking was well-known in the office. But at his weak smile, Murdock continued, still curious about the man. "Can I ask how she met this man with the goblin?"

"Oh. Well…she's known him for a while," Toby offered, hoping his vague response would dissuade Murdock from continuing his questions. Murdock didn't respond but kept his stare expectant, apparently waiting for more. Toby glanced around quickly, but only found Murdock's sharp focus. Where were those agents? What was taking the king so long? He realized he had to say something. "I'm not sure about the specifics. She's pretty private about her personal life."

Murdock kept another pause. Williams only shrugged. That was all he was getting for the moment, but the mystery man would undoubtedly need to be questioned. His office hadn't come across any inkling of the creatures outside the cult and that had only been discovered in the last few weeks. Just who was this guy?

With a shake of his head, Murdock focused closely on Williams. He believed Williams' claim about not being involved in the cult, but something about him still seemed off. Murdock had known about the strange creatures for nearly a week and still felt as if he'd been sucked into some alternate reality every time he discussed the case. Williams was entirely too comfortable with the situation. "You don't seem too surprised by all this."

"What?"

"The cult, the goblin, the dwarf-like things," Murdock ticked off fingers as he went. "Creatures straight out of a fantasy novel are just wandering around Hartford. I've seen them and I still can't wrap my head around it."

He had no idea how spot-on he was, Toby thought. He offered him a slim smile to stop himself from laughing. "I am surprised too, sir. It's pretty unbelievable. But Grog is clearly real."

"Mr. Williams," a familiar voice interrupted, and Toby looked up to find Collier and Steele – finally – making their way over. "Could you and the goblin come with us?"

"Of course. Excuse me, sir," Toby said, grabbing the highlighter out of Grog's mouth with a sigh. "C'mon, Grog." He offered his sleeve and looked up at the agents. He couldn't tell any difference physically from the spell. As with yesterday, their faces betrayed nothing. He stuck to his story. "I'm sorry my sister wasn't any help. I didn't think she would be."

The agent nearest Toby turned to his companion quickly, but said nothing, and spun back to wave Toby to follow. Collier and Steele were each carrying large accordion folders, he noted absently. They must have found something from those leads they mentioned last night. More pictures? They directed Toby and Grog back into the conference room.

The taller agent rested his hands on his folders, leaning forward slightly. "How much do you know about your sister's fiancé, Mr. Williams?"

That had not been what Toby expected. Wasn't the spell supposed to erase thoughts of Sarah...? "Sir?"

"Jay. My colleague and I found him somewhat...unusual."

Unusual? Toby frowned, now increasingly concerned that the spell had gone awry. The Goblin King was exceedingly unusual, but the plan should have distracted their attention from him and Sarah. "Not well," he slowly replied. "I just recently met him." He couldn't stop his question. "What was unusual?"

The agent considered Toby for a second but then frowned and waved a hand, sitting back in his chair. "It's unimportant. We have other things to discuss. We've received a tip on when the next meeting will take place. Tonight. Midnight."

"That soon?"

Both agents nodded tightly. "It's not ideal, but at least we have today to prepare. We need to get this right the first time. It's unclear when our next opportunity will be." He unwound a folder and sent Toby a slim smile. "I'd get comfortable, Mr. Williams. We're going to be here a while."