"Hullo, Sarah."

That voice ran down her spine like a purr-y, gold caress. Accordingly, Sarah stiffened and her heart began to race – her mind began to catalogue the million and one ways to escape. Jumping out of a window was one of them – but naturally, being a complete and utter bastard, the Goblin King had decided to confront her in the school basement and, even if she'd been small enough to fit into the narrow lockers that lined the hallway, Sarah highly doubted that the thin dented doors would keep the Keeper of the Labyrinth, King of Goblins, Conquerer of Worlds (no doubt), Top Class Prick away for long. So she did the only other thing she could do. She turned around.

The sight of him took Sarah's breath away and turned her knees the consistency of mashed potato. Jareth stood before her, tawny hair gleaming underneath the fluorescent light, arched eyebrows winging over mismatched eyes. He looked almost comically out of place in these mundane school settings; he belonged in a palace at the bottom of the sea, presiding over a ball on the moon, pirating an airship around the rings of Saturn. The sight of him, so elegant and wild and inhuman, made something in her heart ache like she had just seen the dark and lovely outline of a dead tree against the stars or the last ambers of a sunset. "Your fashion sense hasn't improved," she said.

"I didn't dare think that you could be any saucier than before," remarked Jareth. "But I see I was sorely mistaken. And really, my dear, in garments," as he would have said 'plague-ridden rags', "such as you have on currently, you'll have to excuse me if I decide not to take your sartorial criticisms too harshly."

Then he wondered if he had used too many big words for a youth of her times because her attention had obviously strayed from horrified, fascinated observation of his spangled crotch to something else that had to be very much less palatable to judge from her face. "You're not here for Toby are you?" she tried to say coolly, but there was a telltale quiver in her voice that pleased him. Too right she should fear him!

"No, I'm not here for your brother," he said, truthfully. There was a pause, "I'm here for you."

The expression of relief on her face froze and turned into one of almost comical horror. Sarah looked like she was being slapped with a kipper. "W-what?" she choked, slumping against the lockers. "No!"

Irritably, he strode towards her and she backed away, scuttling like a bug up the slippery surface of a bath with the steamy hot water rising too quickly. "You annoying little child!" he snarled. "Do you presume to trifle with my feelings? You called for me again – and I came."

"W-what?! No!"

"When you become my consort, lovely, I'm really going to expand your vocabulary."

"Wha – consor – no!"

"Actually, it's going to be the first thing that will be undertaken once we return home. Well," and here he leered, "maybe not the first thing…"

"Listen," Sarah was gasping, feeling like a hamster high on caffeine was manning the pumps of her heart, "Listen, I – I didn't call you! I promise I didn't! As if I would, after what happened the last time!" Her eyes narrowed dangerously, the chilly affect ruined by the fact she was gulping down air. "This – this better not be some excuse of yours – you had better not be toying with me! You have no power over me."

For a moment, that composure of his was shaken. Sarah could see the infinitesimal hint of doubt streak across his eyes, pulling down the corners of his firm, confident mouth. "I heard you, Sarah. It is not well to trifle with me." His voice was cool, restrained and dangerous. It would have made a braver girl than Sarah Williams shudder.

"I promise you," she said earnestly. "I did no such thing. I never thought of doing so." Which did not mean that Sarah had never thought of him. Too many feverish nights she had barely been able to sleep for the dreams and half-imaginings – closing her eyes and still feeling his gaze burn into her retinas, waking with a start and feeling a surge of disappointment at the empty darkness of her room. Turning down whatever few dates trickled her way because none of the boys had that same twisting smile, the same high cheekbones and tenor voice and mismatched eyes. Bitterly she remembered the old stories she read of humans once lured into the fairy realm and lucky enough to reemerge but never again able to be satisfied with plain sunlight since their eyes had been dazzled by the four moons of Jupiter. Remembering the rush of discontent, the longing she had harbored in the darkest parts of her heart, Sarah couldn't help but flush and look away. What if she had called for him, subconsciously? What if this was again all her fault?

His eyes were on her face, his voice oddly soft, "… I heard you… so clearly, I heard you."

They were silent. Sarah raised her eyes to find his gaze already on her face and she returned it as steadily as she could, lifting her chin and steeling herself for whatever it was that he would do –

The Goblin King broke the strange stillness with one of his sharp, flamboyant gestures. Tossing his hair, "Well! If that is the case and if my services are not needed, I shall take my leave." He snapped his fingers and waited for the golden glitter to happen. "Goodbye, Sarah."

Sarah almost started forward, her mouth rounding, phrases like "No" and "Stop" and "Don't go" already jostling to be the first out when she realized that he was, in fact, still here. Nothing had happened.

Jareth frowned, his thick, arched brows drawing down forbiddingly and suddenly. He seemed to be delving more deeply, perhaps calling up a little more of that strange and arcane fae power he possessed; the air crackled and wavered as Sarah felt the surge of magic rise about him, stronger than she had felt it before –

And then it stopped. It was like a quick snap and then the magic dwindled so rapidly that it was as if it being there had been a brief and silly dream. Jareth's mouth opened in an 'o' of annoyance and puzzlement and then it slackened and his eyes closed and he fell forward and would have hit the floor if Sarah hadn't caught him in her arms.