A/N: Rating note - I am going to try to toe the 'T' line here on FFN, and I think I've done so thus far (and below), but if you are looking for a bit *ahem* more, I do plan on elaborating on future scenes in the version on AO3. (Same penname/title.)

Chapter 12: Secreted Names

Though neither of the agents nor Murdock had followed them out of the conference room, Sarah allowed Jareth to lead her all the way to her car. For perception's sake, of course. In case someone else had been watching as they passed under the glow of streetlights at the edge of the lot. Not because her skin now thrummed with warmth at the hint of his touch or that his proximity suddenly soothed worries and confusion. Certainly not either of those things.

"You know I felt that," she mumbled just before they reached her car. Soothed, but not eliminated.

"You were meant to," he said simply.

She opened her door, sighing. Despite everything, getting information out of him continued to be as difficult as pulling splinters from a feral cat. "And would you care to explain just what you did? And why? I don't recall giving you permission to use magic on me."

"Would you have preferred the hapless protection of those authorities?"

No. At least, she assumed not. "I never planned on agreeing to their protection. It's clear they have no idea what's going on. But I would have appreciated you asking for my permission first, Jareth. Even if you are trying to help." She turned towards him, then shut her eyes completely when a rush of tears blinded her. It was even worse than before the station. One of those unwanted consequences, she presumed with a groan. "Can you drop that? There's no one here and I'm not going to be able to drive with you blinding me out of the corner of my eye."

He raised one brow, then flicked a hand and the guise faded completely. "Better?"

"Yes," she said, scowling at his grin. Did he know the glare was worse? That now, the shimmer of arched brows and wild hair melted completely through his disguise? Her frustration always seemed to bring him amusement. Given that, she didn't bother asking; she thought it likely. "As I was saying, I don't appreciate being blindsided with magic. I know deals with you have consequences."

"This was no deal. You are simply under my protection."

She rolled her eyes. "Simply? Nothing with you is ever simple."

"Most things, no," he replied with a quirk of lips. "But this one very much is. I have powerful magic at my disposal. You do not. Given what we just learned, it was necessary."

Her hands stilled on the key in the ignition. "So you know who's responsible? This 'A.H.C.'?"

"No. It is someone who knows me - who knows us - but my kind do not use names in the same manner as humans."

"What does that mean?"

He hesitated. "Names, like words, hold power. While we have surnames, it is considered...unwise to share them with anyone apart from family or one's intended. Even initials and first names could be dangerous if they fall into the wrong hands."

"I know your first name."

He arched another brow. "Are you planning on usurping me? Using me to do your bidding?"

"Of course not," she scoffed. Though, her pulse had flickered at the second. As did the memory of something else. Because at that time, she had been attempting to defeat him. Had Hoggle known? Could she have used it then, and avoided the rest of the Labyrinth?

Jareth didn't appear to notice Sarah's crinkled brow, as he continued easily. "Then you, unlike the unknown culprits, are not the wrong hands."

"Wait," she said, snapping her focus back. "Culprits?" Hadn't he said he didn't know who was involved? "You think it's multiple people?"

"No," he shook his head. "Not multiple people, but multiple culprits. This scheme has required a significant amount of planning. There have now been three kidnappings; two of which were carefully lured through the book. But the book materializes only in your world and whoever took Grog and the boy are from the Underground. There is cross-dimensional coordination."

"Wonderful," she said drolly. "So there's another human around here working with a fae."

"It would appear so. Someone who knows you. You were not lying when you told them you didn't know anyone named 'A.H.C.', I assume?"

"I'm sure I know people with those initials. I just can't think of anyone with them who'd want to harm me or Toby, or who would know you or know my history with you. I've told no one but Toby, and he swears he hasn't passed it on." She groaned. "Which means someone from the Underground is going through a lot of trouble to get to us by roping in a human. Just who did you piss off and what would they want, Jareth?

He hesitated, but when she turned again, staring hard, he responded with a grimace. "Without any demands, it is hard to say who might be responsible."

Again; why wasn't she at all surprised? Even in her limited time with him, she'd learned he was a near-impossible mix of seduction, arrogance, and riddle-speak. He'd probably pissed off most of the Underground. Certainly most of the males. "What about this court? Could they still be involved?"

"Yes. Which is precisely why you are under my protection. I trust you remember why."

Sarah felt her stomach drop. Oh, she absolutely remembered—she didn't even need Jareth's suddenly dark countenance as a reminder. It was hard to forget the look he'd given her in her kitchen or his revealing she was the only one who'd left. She rubbed at her eyes. "So, what do we do now? I don't like the idea of just waiting around for a demand."

"There is...someone we can contact. It will cost us something, but she might be able to give us insight on the High Court's involvement."

Sarah immediately recognized that pause. But, despite her less than hospitable feelings for the woman, she pressed forward with only a small frown. "Your acquaintance? And how would she have any information on that?"

"Because she was once a member."

"What? Why the hell would you believe anything she said about the missing kid in the first place? You basically said the court hates humans!"

"As I told you before, she owed me a favor and I used it to inquire about the kidnapped child. She could not have lied to me if she knew. And she does not hate humans. It is part of the reason why she is no longer with the High Court."

Sarah felt her lips purse. She wasn't particularly thrilled about seeking out one of Jareth's lovers, but she also wasn't fond of aimlessly waiting—especially when it was at the mercy of her brother's kidnapper. So, she bottled her irrational jealousy alongside her irrational attraction and sighed. "Where do we find her?"

Dough's key fit perfectly.

With a quick twist and a frown, Toby turned it in the slot and pushed the door wide open. Goblins were a strange bunch, but he was struggling to see why Dough had been intent on waiting for his master to return instead of using the key to bust out of the cell. The poor guy was plainly miserable. He supposed Grog had followed most of his own commands, so maybe they were just an obedient bunch when given the right bribe? But, besides the cloak, it was hard to tell if Dough had been given anything.

Toby sighed. It was also hard to tell if anyone else was in the dungeon, and that was the more pressing matter. The last thing he wanted to do was alert his kidnappers that he'd escaped. He twisted towards both directions of the hallway, listening for voices, but besides the dripping, he couldn't hear anything. The cells to the front and sides were all empty, as was the hall itself save for a few scattered torch lights and large patches of cobwebs. So, he waved both goblins out with a whispered "c'mon" and jut of his head. "Do you know the way out of here, Dough?"

"T-think so," he said softly, shivering again. Dough shuffled past Toby and after glancing both ways, turned left.

Toby followed Dough and his tattered brown cloak past a good twenty cells. None had been occupied. Well, occupied by anything alive, at least. Toby was trying his best to forget about the pearly-white skeleton they'd just passed on the right. Tall. Human shaped. Still chained to the wall...he clenched his eyes shut. They had to get the hell out of this 'Ardbinse'.

"What do they do here? Why the need for all these cells?" He also found it odd that besides his own, they'd all been empty. That never happened at the station and clearly, this place had been built to hold hundreds.

Dough stopped suddenly, then twisted his head back. "Don' know 'lot, but Ardbinse a fae place." He shuddered. "B-bad place."

Toby frowned again. He wasn't sure what a "fae" was, but with the dungeon and Dough's plain fear, it had to be some sort of dangerous magical creature. Likely the shadowy guy at the gathering. He was also pretty sure that was who snatched him and Grog. "And the fae are bad?"

"N-not a-all of 'em." Dough shivered again and drew his cloak tighter. "S-some k-kind t-to u-us."

Toby's chest clenched as Dough became a soft, skipping record. "Are you alright, Dough?"

"F-fine. J-j-jus' c-c-cold. B-b-b-b-in 'w-while s-s-since f-f-food."

Toby decided he was going to kill Dough's master if he ever met him. Or at least throttle him until he apologized to Dough. Bastard. Without another thought, Toby shrugged off his jacket and wrapped it around Dough, cloak and all. Its ends dragged on the cement behind him, but Dough gave an appreciative coo as he snuggled into it and Toby smiled. "Better?"

"Mhmm."

"Good. The exit's got to be here somewhere."

"Think this way," Dough said, pointing down the small corridor that cut between cages to the left. The hall was lined with more lit torches than their current path, so Toby took that as a good sign, even though he still couldn't see a door or stairway.

"After you, Dough."

After a few minutes, Toby was certain they were on the right track. There were no cells, to start, and the torches placed every few feet were all lit. And where cobwebs had flooded the last hallway, he'd not seen one since they'd turned. Someone had frequented this one. Or, at least had singled it out. Toby could also swear he heard faints murmurs. Low humming?

"This it," Dough said, pointing up high to a large slab of stone on the right side of the hallway. "Four scratch for up."

Toby followed Dough's tiny finger to the spot of the wall bearing four slanted scratches into stone. They weren't that deep and likely had been carved, but Toby couldn't shove aside thoughts that the lines reminded him of claw marks. Long and vicious claw marks. But carved or scratched aside, he didn't at all see how they meant up.

"How is this our 'up'?" Toby traced the scratches with a finger, hoping it was a trip wall of some kind, but the stone didn't budge. He instinctively looked around for something heavy. "Do we need to bust through the wall?"

Grog suddenly clutched one leg, and Toby felt tiny claws pierce through his pants. "That blood door."

"A what?" Toby shrieked, glancing down at Grog's blanching face. "What's a blood door?"

"Bad door. King warn us 'bout."

Toby paled. If the Goblin King was warning his subjects about 'blood doors', he didn't want anything to do with them. Grog hadn't even been stunned by their head crash. He doubted much could get through their thick, leathery hides, so any warnings for goblins went three-fold for him. "Is there another way, Dough?"

"Don' know. Came in here."

Shit. So Ardbinse was a place of bad creatures, unknown "bad things," and bad doors. And for the second time: blood.

Unfortunately, Grog didn't appear to know more, and even if he did, he appeared too frightened to elaborate: he'd smashed his face against Toby's leg, too nervous to even look at the door anymore. Toby frowned at Dough. "Why would someone be warned about this door?"

Dough - predictably - just shrugged. "Master fine with door."

That wasn't much help; Toby didn't even know who or what his Master was. He was possibly one of these "fae" but with the little information Dough had offered, he could also be some indestructible ogre. "Let's at least look—"

*schreeeeeeeeeeeeeeee*

Toby winced as the sharp screech echoed, then yelped as Grog's claws bit deeper into his leg. "...What was that?" He'd seen no signs of life, but it didn't take long for images of nails and claws to storm back. Claws scratching against stone as they ambled towards...

*SCHREEEEEEEEEEEEEEE*

Toby twisted back down the hall. Both screeches had echoed from where they'd already traveled, and the second was plainly louder. Whatever is what was getting closer. The hairs on the back of his neck rose as a distinct clip, clop, clip, clop joined the long scratches against stone. Claws. On hands and feet. And then, something growled.

"Shit," Toby hissed, snapping his eyes back towards the scratches on the wall. There wasn't time to find another exit. The wall was flat aside from the scratches, and as he'd already run his fingers across them without breaking skin, Toby took one last look at Grog before he leaned down and pulled Grog and his pant leg away in two swift motions. A quick swipe of his bleeding leg and then against the wall scratches, and with a low rumble, the wall slid back to reveal a winding narrow staircase.

Toby raced up the first few steps so fast that he didn't even turn to see if the goblins had followed.

It would be another thing he'd come to regret.

When she'd asked, Sarah had been well-aware that Jareth's "acquaintance" lived in the Underground and that seeking her out required leaving the Above. What she hadn't realized, however, was that it required leaving behind a lot more than that.

"What's wrong with how I look?"

Jareth raised one brow as he leaned against her bedroom door. "Who said there was anything wrong? When traveling around the Underground, however, you cannot appear as you are. We still do not know who is targeting you."

"They are targeting you too," she countered with a frown. "And you never mentioned any 'traveling'."

"Rielle lives in a rather...remote part of the Underground. It is not someplace I can transport us directly. She has prevented it."

Sarah snorted. Perhaps she was an ex-lover, after all. Smart woman. "She's prevented just you?"

"No. Everyone."

That was unexpected, and Sarah paused before asking warily, "why?"

"She has a very good reason," he replied casually, quirking a grin. "Knowing her, you'll realize it as soon as we arrive."

Sarah knew better than to expect more clarity, so she just sighed and turned back to her closet to rifle one last time through her dresses. "I don't have anything like what you've described, Jareth. If you already need to glamour me, can you just magic me clothes too?"

"Assuredly," he drawled. "Is that what you wish?"

"Yes," she answered. She spun around and rolled her eyes at him. "Just do it."

"Very well," he said, chuckling low, and a sudden flash of warmth curled below Sarah's stomach as she watched him push off the door, eyes hooded. Slowly, he moved towards where she stood before the closet. Never once did he blink. Neither wrist twitched until he'd made it just before her and as he reached one gloved hand towards her hip, Sarah realized with a pang what he intended to do.

Her breath hitched as he lightly traced one hip; around the arch of her back, left to right. Then, his fingers slowly trailed up her side, sending little shocks of heat down to her toes. "...What," she swallowed, "what are you doing?"

"Fulfilling your wish." He leaned in to whisper against her ear. "Try to stay still, Sarah."

He had to be mad, she decided. Completely insane. She too, actually, for allowing him to touch her like this. He'd now moved his hand to her front, circling one shoulder blade before he moved to one arm. Then, down the other - just as slow - and Sarah could barely keep her breathing steady when he shifted his hand to her collar bone. He paused, all the while focusing on her eyes and Sarah realized as her pulse thrummed that he was asking permission to continue. Gods, she was mad, but she nodded just slightly, and with expert precision, his hand moved lower, until it slowly traced down and around the swell of her breast. One, then two. Still, his eyes never left her own. Sarah knew hers again had darkened to match, but she kept her body miraculously steady as his fingers finished memorizing the curves of her chest. One last trace of burning fingertips around her front waist and with a small twitch of lips, he leaned in again.

"It'll be easiest if you close your eyes," he whispered.

They were already fluttering slightly, so she didn't hesitate to seal them tight. She felt his hair brush against the side of her face as he pulled back, though she knew he was still close; she was drowning in the heady scent of sandalwood and spice. Something in the air stirred and sparked and she felt fabric melt, then tighten around her hips and breasts. Pant legs loosened, then vanished, and a rush of cool air flowed around her calves and thighs. A corseted dress, she could tell, from how deliberate his fingers had been. A new excuse for why she could barely breathe.

"...Is that it?" she asked.

"Not quite."

She heard the smirk in his response - heard the heat of his intent - so she didn't even flinch when she felt his lips back on hers, stealing whatever breath she'd managed to keep. As he caressed her lips, one hand moved to cradle her face, tracing the curve of one cheek with a thumb before he smiled into her embrace. Because she knew he could tell she was fully willing to partake in this memorization exercise. As soon as he'd pressed his lips back to hers, she'd drawn him close—one hand at the back of his neck, grasping at hair. He let her lead for a moment but kept pace with smooth swipes of tongue and a steady press and release. Back and forth. Nipping and caressing. Each kiss, a shot of heat and lightning that fanned down her chest. She knew what she was doing, but she decided she didn't care; she could at least blame her fervency on assuming it was needed for the glamour to take. Reason to balance her irrationality. Her lips tingled with static electricity. Her ears itched, then warmed. And with one last nip, he pulled back.

"Now, Sarah," he said, curling more than syllables through her name, "you are ready."

A/N: Much love to all readers and reviewers! All comments and guesses on what's going on are welcomed. I love to hear your theories. And if you are a close reader, you might already be able to identify at least one of the unknown culprits. Maybe more. ;)