Disclaimer: Unfortunate news, darlings: Though I tried my darndest, I was unsucsessful in convincing Henson's people to let me take credit for Labyrinth. Oh well. At least I can still fiddle around with his creations, even if I'm not getting paid for it...

Chapter Two

Squinting in the morning light slanting through my curtains, I sighed. Even though I was looking forward to today, I'd been having such a good dream…

Blinking, I frowned. Good dream? I'd been trapped in that bloody ballroom again - NOT a good dream. Well, not really trapped… and, thinking back, that dress was absolutely gorgeous, if a little over the top… and, in the dream, I hadn't been a confused fifteen-year-old girl, but a twenty-five-year-old woman in full control of her lips, and using them quite-

Rubbing my hands roughly over my face, I rolled over, stretching and wrapping an arm around my handsome bedmate. He stretched and groaned in response, and gave me a kiss that was quite different from the one I'd been dreaming about.

"Blegh," I complained, wiping my face on my sleeve. "Morning breath, Mister Puppy," I chastised, to which he grinned and presented his tummy for his routine morning rub.

After our morning scratch, I rolled onto my back as Domino jumped down from the bed and fetched my shoes for me, then sat patiently as I hauled myself out of bed and slipped them on, along with my heavy winter robe over my pajamas.

"Come on, then, let's go freeze ourselves half to death for the sake of your bladder," I said, and he raced for the coat closet, pawing it open and snatching his leash. Holding out my hand, I accepted the slobbery rope and clipped it to him, leading him outside for his morning walk.

I winced as the frigid February morning air hit my face, and withdrew my hands into my sleeves.

"Brrr! Hurry up and learn how to use the toilet, Mister Puppy!" I shivered. The dog grinned, sniffing the morning air, and shook his coat out, quite obviously finding the brisk air invigorating. He started firmly down the path we usually took for long walks, and I groaned. He wouldn't settle for a quick potty break this morning, apparently, and I hadn't gotten properly dressed.

"Curse you, mutt," I muttered darkly. He chuffed pleasantly and continued trotting. We made our way through the wrought iron gate surrounding the apartment building's garden and along the wooded path, me huddled in my heavy wool robe and the blasted dog prancing along merrily as though it were naught but a bright spring morning. I glowered.

As we rounded the second corner to home, I noticed a flurry of movement to my left and my heart jumped, suddenly pounding erratically in my chest. I peered at the treetops, trying to tell - had that been an owl? Surely not, white owls didn't live around here- but the causer of the commotion had since departed, leaving nothing but swaying branches and a paranoid woman in it's wake. I shook my head and quickened my step - Stop being silly, it's not like it would have been him anyways, - determined to get back inside before my nose fell off from frostbite and I started to resemble one of the characters I wrote about.

"Come on, Domino, I'll let you drag me all over upstate New York tonight when I get home if you'll pick up the pace now," I bargained. He cocked his head for a moment, as though considering, then chuffed in agreement and matched step with me. I patted his head with the cuff of my robe.

"Good boy."

After feeding the furry one, I made my way back to my room, still a little distracted, and ran straight into the doorframe in the kitchen. Okay, maybe a lot distracted. I shook my head. Focus, Sarah.

Domino whined and looked up at me concernedly as he left his food, following me into my room as I rubbed my forehead. I reached down and scratched his ears as I moseyed over to my closet.

"Alright puppy - today is the day. Whatever will be, will be. It is what it is, and all that," I said confidently, then turned to him and held up the two outfits I had picked out last night. "So, that being said, which outfit do you think will get me the deal?"

My fashion consultant chuffed and sat on the floor, cocking his head and looking between the two, before snorting, shaking his head, and laying down, looking at me innocently.

"Well I'm not going naked, if that's what you mean," I said firmly, then held the ensembles out before me, pondering a moment before choosing the tasteful dark green pantsuit. Usually, when I went to a reading, I dressed comfortably in jeans an a sweater, but today was different. Today, I had a shot at securing a deal with a rather prominent publisher, which would not only increase my circulation and therefore my royalties, but also would give me a more qualified, distinguished place as an author. Needless to say, I was giddy with nervousness and excitement.

Rushing though my morning routine in an effort to be early for my appointment, I hastily applied make-up, artfully arranged my hair in an "I just woke up looking this beautiful" clip-style, and scarfed down a cream cheese bagel before racing out the door, just barely remembering my purse. Closing the locked door, I reminded myself to stop by the locksmith's today - I needed a new key made, though the goblins had thankfully retrieved my broken key with the skillful application of a magnet, gum, and a fuzzy pink pipe cleaner. Settling myself in my cute little Integra, I closed my eyes and prayed fervently to whatever god was listening that my car would start- the engine growled to life when I turned the key and I sighed, smiling in relief.

Here's hoping the rest of my day goes this well, I thought optimistically.

The rest of my day did not go so well.

When I got to the little bookstore I was reading at, I found out that - Hey! Sorry nobody told you, but we're going to be filming this reading for a telecast on the children's station, here, sign the twenty billion forms real quick and let's get started, 'cause you're late!

I was dumbfounded. Me? On television? Who cared if it was just for the bunny-ear channels, as a filler for the morning kid's shows, I was not ready. It had been ages since I'd wanted to be on T.V….

Not that I really had time to think about it. After being rushed through signing away of what had probably been both my soul and my firstborn's, I was rushed into makeup, ("Oh, that's alright, I already did my make-up this morning," I told the Phyllis Diller look-alike, but she just smiled tolerantly and shoved me into the chair. "Yes, sweetie, I saw that attempt. Now hush and let me fix it.") and then onto hair ("But, hey!, I liked my hair! It looked-" "Sloppy? Unfinished? Slut-hoe-bag-just-got-in-from-a-rough-night-on-the-town? Yeah, hunny, I seen it, now sit still while I try to make you look decent,") and then it was onto wardrobe, where I didn't even bother to try and defend myself, and far too soon I was being led onto the little stage they had set up, complete with eager but well-behaved little children sitting cross-legged in front of a cute little chair. I walked forward, sitting cautiously, and looked around at the people bustling around me in a dazed, confused manner. Someone plopped a book in my lap (Ziggy's Crystal Hunt, I dimly noted) and told me to 'read, look pretty, don't look at the camera, and for God's sake don't puke' and suddenly the man behind the camera with the large red light was counting down to the start of the show and I noticed the large words "On-Air" flashing - Oh, God, was this live? - and then some cheesy music started, and it was too late to do anything but read.

Unfortunately, about half an hour though the two-hour read-a-thon, the well-behaved children forgot they were supposed to be well-behaved, and started getting restless. Ordinarily, I would have used any number of antics to calm them back down and hold their attention, but there is only so much you can do when your being signaled frantically to 'keep reading, keep reading' from those nice people on the sidelines paying you, even as the little rugrats started pinching one another and causing obvious distractions. Eventually, we took a fifteen minute break, and I practically ran from the stage, seeking the enclosed solitude of the bathroom.

Of course, wouldn't you know, the ladies room was packed full.

I contemplated acting like a mature, rational adult and returning to the main room, but the horrid sensation that I was either going to puke or pass out if I didn't get away from all these people refused to ease and I suddenly found myself in the men's room.

Glancing around quickly, I ascertained I was alone and heaved a sigh, locking the door and sinking to the cold, tiled floor in relief. Who cared if I got man-germs on my butt - wasn't my suit anyways - or if it was improper for a woman to be sitting on the floor of the men's room? I was alone, blissfully alone…

"Are you all-right, miss?" a voice intruded on my sanctuary, and I suppressed a groan as I opened my eyes.

"Yes, I'm fine. I just needed to pretend for a moment that I was a man. You know, helps with the anxiety," I mumbled, hauling myself to my feet and dusting myself off. I looked to my intruder and found that he was actually quite attractive. Tall, trim, nicely showcased in a tailored suit that matched his tanned skin, bright blue eyes and squared-jawed, white shiny smile. Too bad he's not blonde, I thought wistfully, glancing at his thick, glossy black curls. I shook my head. Where had that come from? Black hair was nice. I liked black hair. I did not like blonde hair. Or blondes.

I focused on the man before me and his amused little half-smile, and tried to return it.

"Uhm, sorry, I, uh…" I stuttered, gesturing back at the door as though it explained everything. Stopping, I dropped my arm and let out an exasperated half sigh, half laugh, cocking a hand on my hip and rubbing the other along my forehead.

"Uhm, hi. I'm Sarah, and I'm a little frazzled at the moment," I said, and turned to unlock the door and leave him to commence (or conclude, whatever) his urination in peace. "Sorry I barged in."

"Oh, I recognized you. Please, stay if you need to, I completely understand," he said, and I noticed his voice was quite rich, almost like black velvet or dark melted chocolate. I smiled back at him.

"Thanks," I sighed, and ran a hand through my hair, only to find it stiff and unrelenting, having been saturated with hairspray and baked under the lights. I forced a laugh and hoped it didn't sound as much like a strangled sob to him as it did to me.

"Having a rough day?" he asked gently, and I actually did laugh that time.

"Oh, no, that's nonsense. I adore being made an idiot of - a ridiculous looking idiot of, who designed this stupid outfit? - on live television after having only hours notice that I was going to be on television at all, and then the children! Oh, the lovely, beautiful, well-behaved children!" I exclaimed, falling back against the door and covering my face. I sighed heavily.

"Today was just supposed to be a meet-and-greet, impress the suits, you know? Not embarrass myself on television," I said defeatedly. I sniffed. "What kind of horrid people don't tell a girl she's supposed to read to restless, bored children for two whole hours under those soul-sucking lights until she arrives on scene?" I demanded, looking up. Tall, Dark and Yummy was standing before me with a sympathetic look on his face, holding out a damp paper towel. I smiled gratefully and accepted it, pressing it carefully to my face so as not to disturb all the muck that had been piled on.

"I take it back. Sounds like you're having a lovely day," he replied, making me laugh, and leaning a shoulder on the door beside me. The gesture reminded me strongly of someone else, someone with gorgeous blue eyes as well… - I shoved the thought firmly to the back of my mind and smiled at the man in front of me. He was attractive, obviously successful by the looks of his apparel, and I hadn't chased him off yet - he deserved my full attention.

"Mmm. Thanks," I said, holding up the paper towel. He grinned easily.

"No problem. Consider me available whenever you need a towel-boy for your nervous breakdowns," he said, and I giggled.

"Yeah, well, hopefully that's the last one. I don't want those arrogant, stuffed-shirt assholes out there knowing they made me sweat. Though, I'm sure it was fairly obvious, earlier," I said self-deprecatingly. A blind man could have seen I was freaking out earlier.

"Not at all," said Blue Eyes, and I slanted him a disbelieving-eyebrow look. I was a little unnerved, but I wasn't in need of coddling. "No, really. I was watching the first half, and I thought you looked perfectly cool, smooth as silk," he said in perfect seriousness, and I began to wonder at his sanity. "And I'm not just saying that because I want to get your number," he added with a grin, and I laughed.

Pushing off the door, I went to the mirror and sighed, looking at my awful stage makeup before straightening my back and smoothing the ugly brown suit as much as possible, and turning to Blue Eyes. He was watching me with a familiar look in his eyes, and it made me feel a little better to know I could still spark that emotion in a guy when I looked like an idiot and had just given him front-row seats to a P.M.S.-athon.

"Do I look camera worthy?" I asked, trying to seem cool and unruffled. He winked.

"Indeed you do, Miss Williams," he said, and unlocked the door, holding it open for me. I took a deep breath, squared my shoulders, and strode out, fully intending to turn this mess around and leave today with my reputation intact.

I failed.

Miserably.

During the second half of filming, the nasty little buggers had degenerated into full-blown kids, and were rolling around, having little fights, alternately yawning and sighing irritably. I finally ignored the stupid adults on the sidelines and started handling the children as children, rather than misbehaving props and pulled out my little puppets, which did manage to recapture their attention for a short while, but I had waited too long. Their energy was unreasonably high, and there simply was no taming them. So, instead, again ignoring the dismal cries of my bystanding employers, I relocated myself onto the floor with them and allowed them to climb all over me, engaging them in the story rather than just reading it to them, and while my story was probably lost in translation and I'm sure it looked quite chaotic and unorganized on screen, I'm also quite sure the children, my main audience, enjoyed it was much as they could have under the circumstances.

Sadly, I was not being hired to tussle around on the floor with rambunctious kids.

As I changed back into my inadequate green suit and scoured my face of the inches of cosmetics caked on it, I listened half-heartedly as I was berated for not following orders and making a complete mess of the entire ordeal. I accepted the chastisement solemnly, apologized for not doing what they asked, and took my leave, excusing myself from anyone who wanted to talk to me.

I managed to make it all the way to the back door, scant feet from freedom and my car, when I ran into someone.

"Wait, Miss Williams!" I heard that smooth, velvet-and-chocolate voice call, and my heart sank. I didn't want to see him now. I wanted to see him after I'd redeemed myself and everyone adored me, when I was wearing my own damned clothes on television and I was trusted to handle my own audience. I thought about continuing forward, pretending I hadn't heard him, but…

I turned around, plastering a weary smile on my raw, scrubbed face. I knew I looked worn and awful and not the least bit alluring, so I didn't feel pressured to try and make up for my impression on him earlier.

"Hey, you," I said, narrowly stopping myself from calling him 'Blue Eyes'. He smiled at me, and I felt like growling. How dare he look so fresh and perky?

"Glad I caught you. Just wanted to congratulate you - that was really impressive, how you handled those kids. I have three younger siblings, I know what a nightmare bored kids can be," he said, flashing a charming grin. I scowled.

"You aren't funny," I said flatly, and started to leave, but he shot an arm out and barred my path.

"No! Really, I'm not being mean or sarcastic or anything. I was honestly impressed at how well you were able to keep up with those little guys," he said, and I paused at the genuine look on his face. What was wrong with this guy?

"Well… thanks," I said, awkwardly crossing my arms. His shoulders slumped a little with relief and I suppressed a smile. It was nice of him to hunt me down and pat my bruised ego.

"Sorry about everyone else; they were totally out of line. I watched the feed back, and it looked great. You really connected with the kids, and it showed. I think, if we gave it a chance, this could be a regular thing," he said, and my face froze. How did he have the authority to say that? I replayed the last few hours in my head, and tried to remember where Blue Eyes had been standing. Had he been with the other stuffed shirts? God forbid, was he one of them?

"What's your name?" I asked, and tried to feel bad at how cold my tone was.

"Ah, I'm…" he paused, probably sensing the ice waves rolling off me, and offered me a wary handshake. "Jeff Garner, Head Stuffed Shirt Asshole, at your service, Miss Williams," he said, and threw another of those charming grins in for good measure. I suddenly found him far less attractive. Besides, he wasn't even blonde. I ignored his outstretched hand.

"Ah. Well, it's a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Garner, and I apologize for my behavior earlier. I didn't realize the company I was in," I said curtly, trying to sound as politely detached as possible.

"Look, I'm sorry, but I thought you just needed someone to talk to, a regular old person, not a big wig boss. And I'm sorry they didn't properly inform you about the segment, and all, but really I think it all turned out just fine. The bit was salvageable, and I really think if we get someone experienced with the kids, everything would turn out perfect," he said quickly, but far from comfort me, it reinforced the ice in my spine.

"Maybe you're right. I suppose if it weren't a freaked out, self-conscious authoress doing the reading, maybe things would have gone a little smoother," I said, forcing my words to sound warm and understanding. The blue-eyed jerk visibly sagged in relief.

"Yes, exactly," he sighed, then caught the flash in my eyes and tried to back pedal. "Wait, I mean, no-"

I leaned forward, poking a rigid finger at his chest. "Now you listen here, bud," I snarled, pleased at the abject fear I saw in his eyes, "I am damn good with kids. I spend half my time around rambunctious little gob-children and I know how to handle them. Those kids were all hyped up on the punch that was being served backstage and I would have been able to pull off your little 'story hour' just fine it I hadn't been forced to treat them like pretty little extras for the first half. Not to mention, that I wouldn't have been a freaked out, self-conscious authoress if you," I poked his chest again, "had handled things, and made sure that somebody called the star of the show, to let her friggin know that she was gonna be on friggin T.V.!" I finished, and realized that my angry snarl had risen to a yell, and I was probably being stared at by everyone in earshot. I turned and shot the entire place a scathing glare, then spun on heel and stalked out, not letting my brain register that I had just told off my once-future boss and everyone at the publisher I'd so wanted to work for, quite effectively ruining my chances beyond a shadow of a doubt, until I was in the car and safely over halfway home. Pulling over on the side of the road, I let my head fall back against the foam rest and felt the tears of frustration pricking at my eyelids.

"I was lied to, called ugly and inadequate by a bunch of fashion rejects, paraded around like an idiot on some stupid T.V. show, almost sorta fell for a jerk who could have been my boss if I hadn't told him off, ruined any and all chances for a future at most publishing firms, and had to wear a stupid brown suit.

"I. Have had. A bad. Day." I told the empty air around me.

And I still had to go to the locksmith's.

As I pulled into my parking space, I silently hoped that the goblins wouldn't be in my apartment. As fond as I was of the little guys, I just wasn't up to human-goblin contact tonight. I wanted to sit in my room, maybe draw a bath, sip wine, eat some chocolate ice cream, and listen to sappy music while I pitied myself and tried to figure out why the world was suddenly against me.

Of course, if they were there, I couldn't send them away…

I plodded up to my floor and stood in front of my home, freshly-made key in hand, looking for the willpower to insert and turn. Finally, I sighed and opened the door. If they were here, they were here. If not, I was more than welcome to mope to my hearts content. I'd survive either way.

Walking inside and shedding my things a the door, I looked around and tried to appear perky.

"Hello? Any goblins running around in here?" I called, but was only answered by my faithful, loyal, trustworthy companion rushing to greet me. I smiled down at the only decent man in my life.

"Hey handsome. Come on, I'm feeling like Mexican tonight," I told Domino, much to his delight, and retrieved his leash from the closet as he went through his routine excited bunny-hops to express his joy at the prospect of a car ride. I laughed as he raced back to me and slathered my hand with kisses as I attached his lead.

"Alright, alright, psycho pooch, let's go before you tinkle in the house," I said, grabbing my things back up and trying to keep up with the furry one as he ran outside.

After convincing him to at least take a potty break before hopping in the Integra, Mister Puppy and I drove to my favorite local Mexican joint, which I usually frequented after a particularly lousy day. Determined to turn my mood around now, rather than wallow in self-pity like a (fifteen-year-old brat, remember what happened last time?) child, I cranked up the radio and the two of us sang (or howled, in Domino's case) loudly along to Golden Years.

As I pulled into the parking lot of Hot Sauce, Domino's tail started whipping excitedly and I chuckled at him.

"Pablo doesn't have to give you scraps, you greedy hound. Don't get upset if you only get nibbles from me tonight," I cautioned him, but my warning fell on deaf ears. Of course Pablo had to give him scraps - who could resist that adorable face?

I led him up through the outside dining entrance (which you'd think would be abandoned on a mid-February evening, but since when do New Yorkers care about the cold?) and rapped on the glass order-window. It didn't take long for Pablo, the restaurant owner/slave to the grill to poke his head out and greet us.

"Hey, Pablo," I said, only to be drowned out by Domino's excited barking. Pablo grinned.

"Hey Pooch! Hey Sarah. Shitty day?" he asked.

"Yep."

"O.K., quesadillas it is," he said, reaching behind him and shouting in Spanish to the cooks. He left the window open as he went to go whip up my food, and over the next ten minutes every cook in the kitchen came over to say hello to Mister Puppy, scratch his ears, and give him little nibblets. By the time my food got to me, Domino was sitting down looking quite contently full, probably having eaten a full meal all together. I rolled my eyes at him.

"Spoiled," I accused. He grinned at me, tongue lolling about happily.

"Nah, he ain't spoiled!" Pablo objected, handing me my change. "He deserves it. Oh, and the other box in there is for him. On the house," he said, winking at my puppy and giving him a quick scratch before getting back to work. I gave a long-suffering sigh and goaded Domino into motion.

"This is so unfair. The only reason they remember me is because of you," I told him, and he snorted, prancing along merrily, as though saying Well, of course, silly human. How else would it be?

I rolled my eyes and smiled a little. "Well, you aren't getting the rest of this tonight. One Mexican meal is enough," I said firmly, and he looked up at me woundedly, pulling out the puppy eyes.

"Oh, no, I'm holding firm. Tomorrow night, maybe, but no more today. Don't want to upset your tummy," I told him, opening the car door for His Majesty. He sighed and jumped up into the passenger seat, lying down and moping. I laughed.

"You're a shameless ham, pup."

I ended up feeding him bits from his box on the way home.

Those goblins were relentless.

Jareth had been trying vainly all day to ignore their noisy chattering, but they just wouldn't stop! And all of them were doing it, throughout the entire Labyrinth!

Puffing out an irritated breath, he fluidly rose from his throne and stalked over to the nearest bunch, standing directly behind them and tapping his booted foot impatiently for several moments before he cleared his throat.

The goblins jumped, scattering in terror and tripping over themselves, making a huge, noisy tangle of teapots, limbs and horns.

"Oh! Hi, King," said the one with the marble shoved up his nose from the bottom of the pile when he noticed the shiny black boots tapping in front of his face. His fellows repeated him as they untangled themselves and Jareth rolled his eyes.

"What the devil have you all been doing today? I haven't had a moment's peace," he snapped, and the mug-wearer perked up, holding up for Jareth's inspection a collection of rather fuzzy looking pickles.

"We is making a 'Better Now' thingy for Lady Sarah!" informed the teapot-walker. Jareth blanched.

"What?"

The marble owner nodded. "Yeah, she has a Bad Day, with the lies-"

"And the Stupid Uglies-"

"And the Bossy Jerk-"

"And the pubish…puhbling…pushib firming…"

"And the Stupid Uglies-"

"AND THE SUIT!"

"Alright!" Jareth yelled, pressing his fingers to his temples. "I understand she had a bad day," he said, trying to pretend like his stomach hadn't just dropped out. Sarah? They've been seeing Sarah? All this time and I haven't realized - "Get to what you are doing," he demanded.

"Well, Lady Sarah feel bad-"

"So we makes her feel better! Gives her all the stuffs that makes us feel better after we get bogged-"

"Or tossed-"

"Or get the burny-mouths-"

"Or lose the chicken race-"

"Yes, I know what makes you feel bad," Jareth growled, striving to remain patient. He closed his eyes and took a deep, calming breath, and looked down at his little subjects.

"So, you are creating a sort of 'get well' care basket for Sarah, correct?"

The goblins nodded enthusiastically.

"And what sort of things are you giving her?"

I stepped into my apartment, swinging my dinner bag and belting out the cleaning song with enough gusto to put an opera singer to shame, and stopped cold as I saw the huge pile of junk on my coffee table. Are those pickles?

I set my things down and cautiously approached it, remaining wary that it may suddenly come to life and devour me. Sighing, I stood before it, noticing (aside from the slightly furry pickles) a clock with sushi instead of numbers, a pair of wool socks, a 'make your own hot sauce' kit, a hip flask with a baby picture engraved on it and the words "As if you needed another reason to drink", and several other rather random items I could only assume were gifts from my goblin friends. I smiled and fought down the twinge of guilt I felt rising - how could I have hoped for them not to be here tonight?

Sitting down on my couch, I gingerly picked up one of the pickles, trying very hard not to grimace at the sensation of touching food with hair, and considered it.

"Well, isn't this tasty looking, Domino?" I said. My puppy gave me a suspicious look, as though I had possibly gone mad. It must be bad if even Domino, the breathing vacuum cleaner, won't eat it.

From the direction of my kitchen I heard a sudden spurt of whisperings and mutterings.

"Oh, no! She said it looks tasty!"

"What if she eats it?"

"It's not for eating!"

"Hush! Lady Sarah won't eat the pickle, she's too nice."

"But she might scare the pickle…"

Trying not to giggle, I raised it to my face and pretended to sniff it, actually holding my breath to keep from gagging.

"Mmmm, smells good too, Domino. Would you like to share it with me?" I asked, offering my pup the first bite. He turned his nose up at it and snorted, obviously decreeing the fuzzy pickle unworthy of his refined palate. More squeaks of horror and protests sounded from my hallway, and I leaned back, stretching my legs out and crossing my ankles on the table. Opening my mouth wide, I brought the pickle to my waiting maw with absurd slowness, accompanying my actions with an overdone "Aaaaaaahhhhhhh!"

"NOOOOOOO!" came an anguished cry, and suddenly my living room was swarming with horrified goblins.

"Lady Sarah, wait! Don't eat the pickle!" cried Gimp, hobbling noisily toward me with impressive speed.

"What? Whyever not, Gimp?" I asked innocently as he seized the endangered pickle from me and cradled it gently.

"It's not for eating, Lady Sarah," said Keego, clambering up into my lap and wringing his orange horns anxiously. I adopted a confused expression.

"Well, if I'm not supposed to eat the pickle, what am I supposed to do?"

"It's for petting, see?" said Gimp, lovingly stroking the furred snack. I widened my eyes in realization.

"Aah, I see," I said wisely, nodding my head. All the goblins collectively sighed and relaxed. Gimp held out the pickle to me, less protective now that he was assured I knew better than to eat it.

"See, when you pets it, it makes you feel better," he said, and pantomimed petting the pickle's coat. Several others nodded in accord. "Always makes us feel better," they agreed. I frowned at them.

"What makes you think I need to feel better?" I asked. They adopted sympathetic looks, and Keego reached up to pat my hair.

"We heards Lady Sarah say she had a Bad Day, so we makes her feel better," said Dizz, scratching at his forehead, which seemed to be coated with dried hot chocolate. I felt my features soften.

"So you guys made me a care package," I realized, and they all nodded enthusiastically. I felt my eyes water.

"Awwww, thanks, you guys!" I said, grabbing an armful or two of them and scooping them into a hug. "You're the best," I sniffled.

Gimp, who was sandwiched in my arms, held out the treasured pickle.

"Go ahead, Lady Sarah, give it a pet!" he said, and I gave a little sobby laugh, giving the thing a few obligatory pats.

Releasing my grip on my little friends, I settled back, reaching for the remote and turning on the T.V. for them to watch while I ate my dinner. Flipping through the channels, I happened across something that looked extremely familiar in the kid's section…

"Look look look!" cried a skinny little goblin with a beak,-Tooka, I think his name is - as he pointed excitedly at the screen.

"It's Lady Sarah!" another exclaimed, bouncing excitedly. I groaned - it was the segment I'd filmed earlier, replaying for the evening filler. "How did you get in the color box, Lady Sarah?" Keego asked, awestruck, as he looked up at me. I smiled.

"Well, I'm magic, didn't you know?" I replied, disentangling myself from them and walking back to retrieve my dinner. They replied with a chorus of "Ooooooohhhhh's".

"Just like King," one of them whispered.

I faltered in my stride, but quickly recovered and headed into the kitchen for a plate. I was not going to think about their King, not not not-

I looked down at my hands in horror, freezing before I touched my food, as I realized I'd nearly gotten fuzzy pickle all over the things I was going to consume.

Rushing to the bathroom, I turned the water on as hot as I could stand it, and scrubbed them vigorously as I berated myself. If you hadn't been so busy not thinking that glitter-panted, crystal-fondling prat -

Out in the living room, I heard the goblins giggling cheerfully at something on the television, and I glanced in their direction. Maybe I didn't do so awful…

As I exited the bathroom, I glanced into my room and saw something sparkly on my bed.

Author's Note: Oooohohohoho, did Jareth perchance leave darling Sarah something sparkly to cheer her up? Or did she finally find that rhinestone bustier she's been missing? And what will become of the fuzzy pickles? Stay tuned to find out, and review to find out faster!

Speaking of reviews, thanks so much to those of you who did! *huggles* I feel so warm and fuzzy inside...

Notwritten: Thank you, darling! *big smile*

Comedychik84: Haha, I think I'm actually going to frame that song. ^.^ Hope you like chapter two!

Natsuko37: Thank you, M'dear! I'm glad i was able to come across as cute - my little sister thought Sarah was too whiney, lol.

Kms5665: I considered having him explode into a cloud of glitter, but I thought it may be detrimental to the romantic bits later on...