A/N: As always, much love to all readers and reviewers. This is where we veer hard towards the romance lane of the story...

Disclaimer: Labyrinth is not mine.

Chapter 10: Suspicions and Admissions

The clock on the living room wall had to be wrong, Sarah decided, as she bounced one crossed leg over her knee on the sofa. There was no way it was nearly three in the morning. Toby had promised he'd call as soon as the meeting concluded. Even if the meeting had started late, she'd never attended a meeting that lasted for longer than two hours. Especially one framed by ungodly hours. Something had gone wrong. She knew sending in Grog was a mistake. Enthusiastic or not, he clearly had no business moonlighting as a secret agent.

Sarah uncrossed her legs and stood, quickly. There was always someone at the station. Even if the night shift didn't know where Toby was, they'd be able to connect her with someone who might. His boss had pulled him into this mess when he'd asked Toby for otherworldly help; she'd start with him.

The piercing ring of the phone supplanted that plan, and Sarah about ripped the phone from the wall as she picked up the call. "Hello? Toby?"

"Is this Ms. Williams? Ms. Sarah Williams?"

The hairs on her arms raised at the familiar voice. "Yes," she answered slowly, dreading the next questions. "Where's Toby? How did you get this number?" It was likely the government could track any number down, but she knew she wasn't listed in the phone book. A precaution recommended by her agent.

"You were listed as Mr. Williams' emergency contact." The agent paused, and Sarah could hear him crinkle bits of paper in the break. "There's been a development."

Sarah clenched her teeth. That was a delicate way of phrasing the need to call an emergency contact. With Jareth's disappearance and Toby's similar failure to check-in, her patience was shot. She knew the plan had been botched. "What went wrong?"

She could almost hear the agent rub at his eyes on the other line, sighing ever so slightly as her question trailed off. The chill at her neck, kept steady thus far only through stubborn resolve, was writhing now, the ice in her veins fighting against the gnawing pit in her gut. "Tell me."

"I'm sorry Ms. Williams, but he's missing. Both of them are."

What? She gripped the phone tighter, catching herself on the hallway wall as she staggered on her feet. His answer was far worse than she suspected. Almost inexplicable. "Missing? What the hell do you mean they're missing? Weren't they with you?"

"They were. The meeting had just begun when the goblin…disappeared. Steele tried to stop your brother from leaving the van, but…" he trailed off, clearing his throat as if he was embarrassed by the failures of his associate. "We suspect whatever happened to the goblin happened to your brother, as well." He paused again, waiting for Sarah to respond, but her restrained growl urged him to finish quickly. "Can you and your fiancé come back to the station? We realize it's late, but there's something I need to show you. Bring whatever you need for the immediate future. With the latest, my colleague and I are concerned you are at risk too."

No shit. That was clear as day now. This wasn't about a kidnapping; it was much, much bigger. She was confident now that someone in the Underground – likely this abhorrent High Court – was carrying out an elaborate plan to harm and blackmail. Blaming her for crimes and then stealing away her closest ally; taking away family and her link to updates of the investigation. All designed as retribution against her for escaping their 'amusements'. Which was absolutely ludicrous. They had no claim to her.

Enough was enough. The bastards had crossed a line. Despite their meticulous plans, they'd underestimated her will to protect her brother.

…for my will is as strong as yours, and my kingdom is as great…

Vastly underestimated.

"Ms. Williams?"

The agent's follow-up brought her back to his inquiry. She did appreciate his concern, but it was laughable that the agents thought they could help her, particularly when the call was premised on them apologizing for losing her brother and Grog. No, at this point, traditional authorities were useless. The issue was, presently, she had no idea where her 'fiancé' had run off to. Still, and she eyed the crystal resting on her coffee table, she suspected she could find him quicker than they could.

"I appreciate the concern, but I'll be fine here. I'll speak with my fiancé and get back to you." She heard him try and argue, but instead of reaffirming, Sarah slammed his rebuttal into the holster on the wall. He'd figure out she wasn't interested in his offer.

So, that left Jareth. She walked back over to the coffee table, frowning at the iridescent crystal still resting on the towel. She hadn't wanted to touch it earlier; he'd given no explanation for leaving it, but the glow inside warned her that it was more than a paperweight. It held some sort of power. She still didn't want to touch it, but given how skittish Jasper had been after his first return, she wasn't sure her poor cat would survive another wish. Which left wishing herself away – an entirely detestable option – or trying the crystal.

She pushed up her sleeves before grabbing it with a scowl. Something warm and wild pulsed beneath her palms, pressing just against the barrier between glass and skin. Recognition flared at the memory of magic. And she closed her eyes because it felt right. There would be no wishes. She knew other words too; words that had called her friends across the veil.

"I need you, Jareth."

The world lurched immediately. Sarah fought to keep upright, but a pressure squeezed inwards and colors whirred and she was forced to reach out to steady herself on cool stone. The crystal slipped and shattered, and only when her stomach stopped roiling did she allow herself to look at where she knew – because she had been mad to think her gamble would turn out otherwise - she'd appeared.

The castle beyond the Goblin City: an obvious place for Jareth to have gone. Likely just waiting for her to get antsy enough to pick up his 'gift' and call him. Grinning madly at the realization she'd taken the bait.

Damn him.

She had no idea where in the castle she'd appeared. Her recollection was limited to an unkept throne room, a few hallways, and the expanse of impossible staircases. As a teen, the exterior had seemed massive, so there was no telling how long it'd take her to wander aimlessly before she found him. The hallway she'd landed in was long and quiet, framed by faded oil paintings of rolling landscapes and tattered draperies that seemed unnecessary given the lack of windows. Floor to ceiling stone and heavy ornate scones, lowly lit, lined the spaces without embellishments. She focused little on anything but the doorways, pressing against any door she came across without success.

But even as she moved up and down empty hallways, she knew he was here. She felt it. Finally, some ways up a long staircase, she found a half-open door, beckoning her inwards with amber light.

She didn't bother to knock on the door, marching instead towards the expansive desk shaded by an engrossed corn silk head. He was writing vigorously, the tip of his quill sweeping across pages as if clearing them from the words instead of drafting missives. He didn't appear to notice her entrance.

"You have some nerve, bringing me here."

His quill froze and he looked up, and by the brisk widening of eyes and stiff shoulders, she appeared to be the very last person he expected to find in his castle. But just as quickly, the look morphed into his familiar ease, and he leaned forward, dropping the quill and resting the side of his face against a gloved hand.

"If I had known you were so intent on keeping to me, I would have brought you," he said, and a corner of lips twitched as Sarah's look darkened. "But I should have suspected you'd ignore my command."

"Your crystal—"

"Held magic; yes. But no transportation spell," he cut in, now openly grinning. "You sought me, I assume."

He didn't phrase it as a question and that was just fine by Sarah; she had no intention of encouraging his ego. When she instead crossed her arms and shifted, he let out a soft laugh and leaned back in his chair. "I did tell you my suspicions were correct, Sarah."

Sarah felt herself flush unconsciously as he purred her name, and she grit her teeth, grinding slightly in hope that the pressure would distract her from whatever promise his suspicions suggested. He was infuriatingly smug with himself despite her never giving him more than a fantasy dance, lingering hallway glance, and some forced reaction he'd somehow compelled. She still wasn't sure what he had done; as with most of his responses, now included, his words were more riddles than answers. She wanted to ask what sort of magic the crystal had held, but he was sure to deflect. That wasn't the only thing that set her on edge, and she forced herself forward, despite the heat still tinging her cheeks. She needed something more important right now.

She pulled out one of the spindly chairs in front of his desk and sat, leaning forward to meet his grin without flinching. "They took Toby and Grog."

"Beg pardon?"

"The cult. The agents called me and said they disappeared at the meeting."

His grin finally fell as he processed her words. "Disappeared," he repeated, toneless. And before Sarah could relay the little the agent had told her, Jareth pushed back his chair and stood, grabbing the parchment on which he'd been writing. She tracked him as he moved quickly towards the open window, carved out of the stone, and with a twist of wrists, the parchment shifted into one of his familiar crystals. He didn't hesitate to gift it to the night and Sarah watched as it floated away, flickering briefly in the glint of moonlight.

"The boy is not here," he offered mildly, still looking out the window.

"What?"

"Or if he is, he is exceedingly well-hidden."

"The politician's son?" Sarah questioned, furrowing her brow slightly. "You said you needed something of his to find him."

He turned then; expression calm. "I would have. Another didn't."

More riddle-speak and deflection. But he returned to his space at the desk and sat down again, almost awaiting her questions. She had her suspicions, too. "Is that what you've been doing down here? Asking around?"

"In a manner of speaking. I called in a favor from an old…acquaintance. I am confident her information is true."

"An acquaintance?'

"Yes."

His accompanying wry grin was explanation enough for the role the woman held, but when combined with the pointed pause, Sarah had no doubt about the nature of their relationship. Despite efforts to control it, Sarah's nails curled into her palms. "How can you be so sure?"

He looked at her for a long second, and then tilted his head thoughtfully, the wry smile never leaving his lips. "Surely you know why."

No, surely she did not. She was going to throttle him. Was he so confident in his prowess that he believed his sexual partner would never lie to him? She scoffed. Men. But that was beside the point. Even if the missing kid wasn't here, that didn't mean Toby and Grog weren't. He'd been surprisingly nonchalant about one of his own subjects disappearing.

"And Toby and Grog? Can this acquaintance find them too?"

"There's no need," he drawled, and he called another crystal and set it on the desk between them, pointing as she stared. "They've hardly disappeared."

To say Sarah was surprised would have been an understatement, but his earlier indifference to her news now made sense. The figures in the crystal were hazy, as if a thin layer of gauze had been thrown atop the scene, but Toby's blond head and Grog's shining accessories stood out against the drab surroundings. Stone. Low lighting. Another castle? Without asking, Sarah grabbed the crystal to get a closer look. "How…?" She glanced up.

"Really, Sarah," he derided. "Surely you didn't think I left Grog with the boy without a way to locate them? Given the absurdity of his request, I suspected he'd require assistance."

For once, Sarah didn't mind Jareth's slight of her brother; he had been right to suspect catastrophe. She looked into the crystal again, turning it slightly in an attempt to make out specifics of their surroundings. "Where are they?"

"Underground, assuredly. Well within my reach."

She tore her eyes from the figures, both of whom appeared to be lying down in wherever place they'd been taken. She had no way of knowing precisely where if Jareth refused to elaborate. Still, "we need to get them."

His raised eyebrow was unexpected, as was his easy lean back in his chair. "They appear to be in no immediate danger. They were obviously taken for a reason," he said, crossing his arms against his chest casually. "It makes little sense to inform whoever took them of the futility of their gambit until we know what they desire."

"You just want to leave them captured?"

"For the moment. I suspect they'll make their intentions known shortly."

"What if what they want is Toby?"

"Doubtful," he scoffed. "Then there would no reason to detain Grog."

Sarah frowned, leaning back in her own seat as she mulled over Jareth's words. Loathe as she was to admit it, as long as he was confident he knew where Toby was – and could recover him if need be - she saw the benefit in keeping that hand to themselves until they figured out the captor's end game. This had something to do with her – every other move they'd make thus far made that certain - but she held no ties to Grog. While she obviously didn't want him harmed, it seemed a move designed to rankle Jareth more than her. Which was doubly troubling. She had no idea what sort of enemies he possessed or what he could have done to trigger them stealing one of his subjects.

"Who did you offend?"

He looked momentarily startled and despite the situation, Sarah reveled as he shifted uncomfortably in his seat. As per usual, however, any sign of surprise settled quickly and he eyed her coolly. "Only those who earned the offense." He didn't wait for Sarah to inquire further before he pushed back his chair again and stood, moving around his desk quickly and towards the half-open door. He leaned against it, ticking his head at Sarah when she remained still in her chair. "Come, Sarah."

"Come where?"

"Since you obviously desired to be here," he started, quirking a lip again when Sarah's scowl returned, "I assume you'd appreciate a tour."

"Of your castle?" She stood, shaking her head with a snort. "You can just send me home." If he was resigned to waiting for the demands, there was no reason for her to remain here; as there was no indication the suspect yet knew of how involved Jareth was, she suspected any demand would be relayed in her world. Actually, she remembered, moving briskly to meet him at the door, there might already be a lead back in Hartford. "The agents want to speak with us at the station. They said they had something to show us."

"Unsurprising," he offered blandly, not moving from his tilt against the door. Which irked Sarah immensely. If anything, he seemed bored with the news that the agents wished to see them. His head jutted out towards the hall again.

"I need to go back," she insisted, crossing her arms instead of allowing him to order her down the hall. On top of not needing any tour of a castle she had no place in, the agents were sure to follow up again, if only to reiterate their concerns.

But he didn't even flinch at her rebuttal, tilting his head slightly as if considering whether there was any veracity in the statement. When she too held steady, not even shifting on her feet, only then did he push deeper. "Did your authorities indicate it was urgent?"

Sarah opened her mouth to affirm it was, but when she saw his raised eyebrow, almost knowing, she sighed. He likely would see right through any exaggeration. "They seemed concerned for my safety."

He pushed off the door then, seeming to finally get the answer he'd wanted. "I assure you, no harm will befall you here."

Sarah pursed her lips at his retreating figure but saw no choice but to follow him as he turned out the door. With the crystal shattered, she was well aware her return depended on his willingness to take her. There were no guarantees there. Even now, with his suggestions and 'suspicions', she had little idea of what motivations he held. But he obviously wanted something that involved her. She took a deep breath. She needed to go home. Now was as good a time as any to get that answer.

"Just tell me what you want, Jareth."

He stopped in his tracks some feet in front of her. Not turning. Not speaking. But then, a low rumble of laughter, warmth that she felt in her gut in spite of the expanse of cool stone, relayed his unexpected pleasure with her demand, and she too stilled. It had been foolish, she decided at that moment, to demand anything of a king in his own castle. Even more irrational when she didn't know what she was asking for. But there was a weight now against her chest and she couldn't force out the revocation.

She realized he must have spelled her again because when he finally turned and moved towards her slowly, unspeaking and unblinking, she was unable to look away. She was unable to do anything but support herself against one side of the wall as he closed the space and leaned over her, one arm angled up against the wall and the other waiting at his side; the warm rumble of laughter instantly replaced by the warmth of spices and sandalwood and something uniquely him that she had pushed from her mind when he'd tried this before. But now, there was more than curiosity in his mismatched eyes, inches away, and as she tilted up again, she wasn't at all afraid that he would close the remaining space. It was the lack of fear that terrified her.

"Only the truth, Sarah," he whispered, allowing himself to come within a hairs breath of her lips but not any further. Still leaning down as if the truth he expected was for her to lean up to meet him. Somehow, she heard a whish of fingers over her ragged breathing, and she caught the glint of crystal as he pulled back just slightly to balance it between them. "Answer one question and I'll take you Above."

"Wh-what question?" she asked, wincing slightly at how breathless she'd sounded. It was doubtful she'd be able to answer anything he asked; whatever spell he'd cast had hindered rational thought. He was too close, but something railed that he wasn't close enough.

He smiled then and Sarah's swore he'd never seemed more victorious, despite her wagering nothing. The crystal slipped and before she could follow it to the floor, where she eventually heard it shatter, he caught her chin with his hand and pulled her lips to his.

She should have expected the press of warm lips, the hand that must have been dragged from the wall to grip her hip and pull her tight against him so that she was trapped between the heat of his body and the rough stone. But her mind was clouded and his scent was everywhere and made things even hazier. If she had expected it, she tried to reason as his hand cradled her face and the warm swipe of his tongue demanded entrance, she would have pushed him back instead of grabbing desperately at his shirt to pull him closer. Instead of forgetting where she was and who she was with and allowing herself to kiss him back. She wouldn't have allowed herself to utter even a gasp of breath, let alone the indistinguishable moan as the hand at her hip slipped just under her shirt to splay on her lower back, somehow free of its leather glove. The hand memorizing the angles of her face, she realized absently as lips asked the only question he had wanted her to answer, similarly ungloved.

She must have shifted - or had he picked her up? - because instead of cool stone, her back suddenly rammed up against the scratch of wood and the rounded knob of a door, and with an ill-advised press of his hips against her own, she fell backward into the open doorway. Only when she landed, breathless and now detached from the distraction that was Jareth, did her mind clear. His breathing appeared similarly ragged, and the tousled strands of hair lead her only to believe that sometime during the haze that her hands had tangled themselves in his hair.

Oh. Fuck.

She changed her mind in an instant; that smile had never been more victorious.