Disclaimer: Alright, alright, you've got me. I don't own Labyrinth, Jareth, or the snippy doorknockers. Not even in part. I do, however, own a rather fuzzy pickle, and as I am an optimist, I am going to consider this a step in the right direction.

And, before we begin, let's give a big round of applause to the lovely Beta, lov2catnap!

*and the crowd goes wild!* haaaaaaaaaaaaaaa

Chapter Six

"Perhaps I can be of assistance."

My mind went blank as his words slid across my skin, like tendrils of hot silk, and I involuntarily imagined all the activities in which he could be of assistance.

For the first time in my life, I began to believe that a writer's imagination is not always a good thing.

Jareth-is-in-my-kitchen-shit-what-now?!, chanted the slightly panicky part of my mind, as it tried to regulate my ragged breathing and control my suddenly overactive salivation glands.

I heard the uninvited guests in my apartment give a collective 'Meep!' of surprise and vanish, and I heard Domino growling in confusion, but my brain seemed to have short-circuited, due to an overload of impossibility. I was only aware of the fear-tinged liquid heat that seared down my spine as that familiar, elementally musical voice and the goose bumps it scattered along my arms. And as it faded, I realized I was gaping at him. I was standing in my kitchen, slack-jawed, feet wide, arms dangling limply, outright gawking at the undeniably imposing, impressively regal, wild-haired man from my past as he leaned elegantly against my pantry door.

I doubt there has ever been a better impression of a goldfish.

He looked just like I remembered - all sharp angles and leonine grace, amusement-tempered contempt in every gesture, so utterly alien and striking.

He certainly did not look like the sort of man to squeal, in an entirely unmanly fashion, as Domino lunged at him.

***

Jareth decided he was quite pleased with Sarah's initial reaction. There was no open hostility, nothing sharp was thrown with malicious intent, and she hadn't run screaming from the sight of him.

In fact, remembering the infuriating phrases that tended to issue from that invitingly open mouth of hers, perhaps this stunned silence was a blessing.

It pleased him even more that upon his entrance, the Labyrinth's missing hellions had instantaneously fled, going back to their rightful place in his Labyrinth. Without their noisy, destructive interference, he was quite sure he could turn this unexpected hiccup in his plans into a beneficial event.

Until that ravenous, spotted beast attacked him.

Jareth had heard the growling, but dismissed it as one of the more feral creatures from his Labyrinth. After all, who would dare attack him?

It wasn't until a missile of sharp fangs and salivating fury was hurling toward him, that he realized he was in danger.

Reflexively changing into an owl, he launched himself into the air -

And promptly ran into the low ceiling.

Plummeting back down several feet, he stuttered and hooted incoherently for a moment before he regained his senses and momentum. He heard Sarah shout a command to the beast, though it didn't seem to be listening, for no sooner had she spoken, than he felt an entirely unpleasant plucking sensation in his rear, as the fiend seized a mouthful of his beautiful tail feathers and savagely tore them out.

Squawking, he pumped his wings, gaining a few feet of altitude. This time, he carefully gauged the distance to the ceiling, - it was far easier to fly in his spacious castle - as he flew toward the bedroom he had appeared in earlier.

The beast's paws thundered insistently behind him. He quickly swooped to perch on the tall dresser, and prepared to claw the bloody thing's eyes out at the first available opportunity.

This, however, proved to be unnecessary; as the maddened creature hurtled into the room, Sarah caught up with it and grasped it by its collar, and although the beast still dragged her a few steps, she managed to bring it to heel beside her, admonishing it sternly.

"Domino, that was completely uncalled for! He's a friend - well, not really a friend, but he isn't - well, actually he is kind of my enemy, but he's not a really bad guy. I think." She paused, and Jareth tried to decide whether or not her view of him was a good thing. "Look, he wasn't doing any harm! Now, no more pulling out the feathers of harmless guests, Domino! Be a good boy, or I'll give you regular dog food tonight, like a normal pet, instead of leftovers," she threatened, and though the beast was no longer snarling with murderous rage, it certainly didn't seem content with the arrangement.

Shifting back into his usual appearance as she chastised the mongrel, Jareth irritably brushed off his shirt and fixed his improperly ruffled hair.

"What a perfectly horrid animal, Sarah. Why in the world would you keep such a vicious creature around?" he demanded, glaring at the restrained beast.

Sarah released the creature's collar, and, propping her hands on her hips defensively, leveled a disapproving look at him.

"He was just trying to protect me. It wasn't his fault you popped in looking like a predator," she snapped. She obviously did not view this statement as contradictory to her earlier reprimand in the slightest. Were his pride not so sore, he may have been tempted to smile.

Instead, he scoffed, "Indeed." He rolled his bi-colored eyes, "I was casually leaning; hardly an aggressive stance. Unless the beast thought I was more of a threat to your pantry than all the goblins that had already ravished it, the assault was utterly unprovoked," he argued, slanting a distasteful look at said attacker.

It was Sarah's turn to scoff at that. "Jareth, you probably look predatory in your sleep," she retorted, crossing her arms. The position did interesting things to certain parts of her anatomy, which in turn did interesting things to certain parts of his anatomy, and he turned quickly to the mirror under the pretense of fixing his hair. "I'll bet you look like you're going to eat the photographer in all of your baby pictures," she continued.

"Unlikely. I disapprove of cannibalism," he said in a distracted tone, disregarding the fact that there were no photographers in the Underground. He leaned close to his reflection and narrowed his eyes. Where was… No! Why, that no good, rotten, sharp-fanged, vile beast! There was one… no two… THREE spiky wisps missing! Savagely ripped from his poor scalp; leaving rather large bald spots.

Outraged, he whirled about, with every intention of making that mutt pay tenfold for ruining his meticulously maintained hair.

***

I decided there must be something wrong with me.

During my previous encounters with Jareth, he had relentlessly mocked and taunted me, tossed live serpents at me, given me poisoned fruit, and altered my memory - and those were some of the lesser grievances.

My mind whirled as I watched him lean towards my mirror, presenting a perfectly showcased backside and glimpses of a lean, defined chest in the mirror. Underneath a stomach-tingling physical appreciation, I felt only the vaguest twinges of fear, and I had a nagging suspicion it may actually just be acute excitement, masquerading as fear. Even as he spun around, eyes wide and alight with fury, it was only adrenaline and anticipation that fluttered in my stomach.

My legs braced themselves and my hands cocked on my hips, and I felt my chin lift in automatic defiance. I didn't know what his feathers were ruffled over, but I was more than ready to be annoyingly belligerent. There was no cowering fifteen-year-old here this time, buster.

"That animal has done me grievous damage, Sarah. Move aside," he commanded. I stepped further in front of Domino.

"Oh please, he plucked a couple of feathers. You did most of the damage to yourself, flying into my wall," I snapped, and felt a vindictive rush as the barb scraped against his inflated ego. His eyes narrowed to incensed slits, and he growled menacingly.

"Look," he snarled, pointing dramatically at his hair. It looked just as maniacal as always.

"Oh no, you can't pin that ridiculous hair-do of yours on my dog. It was an epic mess long before you got here," I protested, frowning. He looked slightly taken aback.

"My hair is not ridiculous," he objected. "Nor is it an 'epic mess'. It's in artful disarray," he said sharply, as though annoyed by my lack of aesthetic appreciation. I rolled my eyes.

"Right. And I suppose that filthy castle of yours has 'rustic appeal'?" I countered. An odd expression flitted across his angular features, too brief to identify, but it was quickly replaced with a haughty detached amusement that I was so used to.

"Given that your idea of displaying ornaments involves stowing them away in a drawer, you're opinion of my décor means very little to me," he said, cocking an eyebrow.

I felt a guilty flush heating my face. I still hadn't told him thank you, I thought, guiltily.

I crossed my arms defensively.

"Well, since you so thoughtfully broke into my house and went through my things to rectify the situation, I don't really feel the need to apologize," I snapped, and hurriedly plunged on, "And-the-bath-leaves-were-really-nice-thanks."

Jareth blinked at me.

"…You're welcome," he said, a little cautiously. I looked away and tightened my crossed arms.

"And the rose was really beautiful," I mumbled. "But really, it doesn't match with any of my rooms, so you can't blame me for not immediately putting it on a little pedestal," I added hastily, my poor cheeks flaming brighter than I ever thought imaginable. "And it only sort of goes with the bathroom stuff."

I could practically hear his smirk. "How generous of you to tolerate its presence," he said, with a very thin undercurrent of sarcasm. I whipped my head up to shoot him a glare. Did he really have to taunt me after I had just thanked him?

I was less than pleased with the amused look on his face. However, I was a little too distracted by his sudden proximity to be too terribly worried over it. While I'd been averting my eyes, he had slipped up to a bare few inches in front of me, and I jumped a little in surprise.

"I'm glad you liked the gifts, Sarah," he said - purred, really - and though it was quite toasty in my apartment, I had to suppress a shiver. My face succumbed to even more brilliant shades of red - I was going to be creating new colors if this went on - and I suddenly realized that I was seriously considering finding out exactly how tight those pants were.

I mentally slapped myself. You will not jump his bones, you will not jump his bones!

"I was going to send you a cheesecake or something, but I wasn't sure I could afford the postage," I forced myself to reply, and resumed the mental slapping. I had meant to say something intelligent.

Jareth's lips - don't stare, don't stare - twitched in amusement, and he leaned back slightly. It was a struggle not to sigh in relief.

"You could have simply made a wish, princess," he said. "You do know your right words."

I cocked an eyebrow, though I'm sure it lacked the dramatic flair that Jareth's possessed brows lent the gesture.

"Alas, I'm fresh out of baby brothers to offer in thanks," I deadpanned, and Jareth's lips slid into an altogether unsettling smile that was completely inappropriate for a conversation about my brother. A dull heat kindled in my stomach, and my skin ached to know what it felt like to be pressed against that grin.

"Now, Sarah, you couldn't think of anything else to offer me?" he said in a voice that could melt icecaps, and I could feel his eyes molding methodically over every inch of me. I suddenly felt like a steak on a platter, being slowly sautéed under his searing gaze.

I panicked, frantically trying to beat out the brushfire that was racing through my veins, and reached for my instinctive catchall defense - false bravado.

Smirking with a confidence I was most definitely not feeling, I let my hip sway out a little and adjusted my arms. "Well, I was going to send you a set of cold iron handcuffs, but I thought it might be too kinky for you," I said airily, and watched his face sideways from under my lashes. I could practically see his last lines from ten years ago scrolling through his mind (do as I say, and I will be your slave) as his eyes flashed, and I danced a little inside. Take that, you poofy-haired, lecherous -

Jareth made a low, unaccountably alluring, growling sound in his throat, and my internal victory dance abruptly ceased. He stepped smoothly toward me, and it didn't even cross my mind to back up.

"That would depend entirely on who was wearing them, precious thing," he said, and I had a sudden image of him, sheathed in black leather, clicking the circlets closed around my wrists with glove-protected fingers, and my heartbeat stuttered.

Jareth hovered in front of me, raising a leather-clad hand, the slick fabric inches from my neck; I could practically feel his body heat through my sweater -

CRASH! BOOM!

I jumped and swore, instinctively spinning towards the noise in my kitchen. I was too far in my bedroom to see what the commotion was, and as I started for the door, I turned my head to glance back at Jareth. I froze in place.

My bedroom was empty.

Growling, I stormed into my kitchen, fully intending to toss whichever goblin was currently ransacking my home out of the nearest window, just to see how invulnerable to harm they really were.

***

Tearing his shirt off and hurling it at his bed, Jareth started pacing furiously.

That had been dangerous.

"Stupid impulsive hormone-addled fool," he berated himself, roughly pulling his gloves off with his teeth. His plans had gone horribly awry. His slow, easy seduction was falling apart - he'd been back in Sarah's company no more than ten minutes and he'd nearly kissed her!

Granted, she certainly hadn't seemed adverse to the idea, but still.

He paused in his pacing, remembering how her flawless skin had flushed prettily, her chest heaving as he closed in, how she'd unconsciously tilted her head to allow him access to her neck… growling in frustration, he threw his gloves to join his discarded shirt. She wasn't even here and he was a hopelessly agitated mess.

Absently conjuring a crystal, he idly danced it over his fingertips, sliding into a chair by the fireplace to try to calm his raging blood and evaluate his current situation.

It was obvious that Sarah was physically attracted to him, but then, he hadn't really doubted that. If he wished, he was certain he could easily begin a physical relationship with her. Unfortunately, he wanted more.

Though he would avidly deny it if confronted, Jareth had often thought of Sarah over the past years. During idle moments, he would fantasize about their meeting, what he would say, how he would move. Sometimes he tried to trick himself, and pretend he was actually planning out meetings for his various companions, but the mask they wore in his mind always hid Sarah.

Jareth was quite besotted with her.

What a pathetic creature you are, he thought sardonically. A king with all the power he could wish, but none over the only thing he wants.

And really, that was the issue. He wanted Sarah, wanted to possess her, consume her, wrap himself around her every nuance, and entertain every moment of her time. He wanted, no, needed to be vital to her emotionally and physically. His entire strategy was engineered to develop Sarah's feelings for him, but if his blasted pants kept getting in the way, it was going to wind up being nothing more than a sordid fling. He scowled down at the offending appendage.

This was going to be far more difficult than he'd predicted.

***

Domino sat on my counter, nose down and ears drooped, trying his absolute best to look heart-wrenchingly pitiable, while my blender gave an unhealthy wheeze and shuddered erratically on the floor. A quivering coffee mug was peering down from its hiding place atop my cabinets, and a pair of orange horns poked out from under my kitchen table.

As I watched, my microwave set itself on defrost for ninety-seven minutes and eighty-three seconds, a feat I hadn't actually realized was possible, while my fan blades wobbled in a drunken manner and sparked half-heartedly. The hands of my wall clock spun crazily, counting time backwards, and there was a disheartening squishy-dripping noise coming from my refrigerator.

My throat worked as I swallowed the frustrated scream that was threatening to rip its way out. Closing my eyes, I willed myself to inner peace and all that crap.

I'll bet Buddha never had to deal with goblins.

"I hope, that when I open my eyes, there are still goblins in my apartment, because I am going to need a whole lot of help cleaning up this mess," I said loudly. And in addition to the two I already knew were in my kitchen, I heard several goblins give muffled squeaks of dismay from various other rooms, followed by the muted pop of their departures.

I sighed. It would take forever to clean all this up. I shuddered at the thought, but I would much rather do it by myself this time. I'd had my fill of magical creatures for the day.

After helping Domino off the counter - Lord only knew how he'd gotten up there in the first place - I shooed him off to my room, where he had the decency to look properly ashamed of himself. It lasted for all of two minutes, and then he was back in the kitchen with me, begging for treats. I, of course, was stern and unyielding - I couldn't reward him for jumping on the counters and killing blenders, or he'd be doing it all the time.

I stood quite firm, a shining beacon of impervious authority. And only gave him two biscuits.

Rummaging under my sink for a flower-scented disinfectant to chase away the Eau De'Stinky thatlingered in the Goblin's wake, I tried to decide which would be a better cleaning CD to put in - Pat Benatar, or Joan Jett? Maybe Chris Isaak… hmm, I wonder where that Bowie CD is… I suddenly felt a gentle brush against the back of my leg that felt distinctly like fingers. I cracked my head on the underside of my sink as I whipped around. Fully prepared to smash Jareth's face in if he was sneaking up on me and trying to cop a feel, I relaxed as I saw it was only a still slightly bow-legged Ziggy standing there.

"Ziggy, what are you doing here, hun?" I asked, firmly ignoring the fact that I had immediately assumed Jareth would be groping me - I had decided to forget everything that had happened in his presence until I was finished cleaning. Ziggy scuffed a foot against the floor and held up a rather germy-looking rag I recognized as one I had lost several months ago.

"I will help Lady Sarah clean," he answered, a little shyly, and I felt my severe irritation with all things Goblin ebbing away.

Smiling, I scooped him up into a hug.

"I think I'm going to write another book about you," I told him.

***

That had not gone as planned.

After staring alternately at the possessed building that he was positive had actively impeded his journey to Sarah's apartment, and the dull, darkening sky, Jeff had decided he must have done something really, really stupid in a past life, and now was being forced to suffer through his prior self's bad karma.

Contemplating the possible significance of Sarah's one-armed parting hug, he got into his beautiful car and started back home. He was suddenly feeling rather silly to have driven across town to bring a girl a bouquet of daisies in hopes for a cup of tea.

He should have gone with roses.

Once home, Jeff moped up to his front drive. Sulking, he went into his bedroom, and pulled off his shirt to change. Looking over at the full-length mirror behind his door, he tried to smile charmingly at his reflection, but only succeeded in looking like he was grimacing at a particularly disheartening sap.

Pouting, he walked closer to the mirror and put his hands on his hips.

Why hadn't Sarah kissed him?

He was attractive enough. Full head of glossy, dandruff free hair, a square jaw line, big do-me-now eyes, pleasantly muscled… there really was nothing to complain about in the visual department.

And he knew he was amusingly witty - women (and men, though less often and for different reasons) laughed at his jokes all the time. He could be engaging and charming, and he'd always known his efforts to elicit a positive response.

So what the hell was up with Sarah?!

He was pouring on the McDreamy, and she was acting like…like…

And suddenly, it clicked.

She was interested in someone else.

"AURGH!" Jeff groaned, turning and flopping belly-up on his bed. It would be ten times harder to win Sarah over if she already thought she liked someone…

Growling in frustration, he glared at his strategically soothing-colored ceiling, and started to form a plan.

***

Glitter.

There was glitter everywhere.

It was embedded in my sofa, dusted over my counter tops, it was even in my toothbrush, for Hoggle's sake. And my bedroom!

I stood in the doorway, gawking in horror, as I took in the ridiculously copious amounts of the sparkly substance that saturated my room. It was like a twelve-year-old princess's dream come true.

Steeling my spine, I pulled the dusk mask down over my nose and mouth, and fired up the vacuum cleaner with grim determination.

Ziggy pulled the swimming goggles I had lent him down over his eyes, and turned on his little hand-held vacuum with imitated zest. Exchanging resolute nods, we gave twin battle cries and fell into my room, attacking the intruding sparkly-ness with extreme prejudice.

Once we were done, Ziggy and I lounged in my reasonably restored living room, sipping hot cocoa - mine enhanced with a bit of the Captain's best - and making fun of Jareth.

It was a tremendously satisfying pastime.

"And then he pranced around a little bit and said, 'Nothing? Nothing, tra la la?'" I quoted, lowering my voice in an attempt to imitate his masculine pitch. Ziggy laughed in an uproariously squeaky manner.

"OH! Today, King threw a tan-drum!" he exclaimed once he'd regained the ability to speak. I grinned excitedly.

"A tantrum?" I asked. "What did he do, bog a colony of fairies?"

"No! He stole all the chicken's feathers and threw the chickens in the bog!" he said, and promptly began rolling around, clutching his sides as he screamed with mirth.

I laughed, more at the image of a flock of naked chickens soaring gracefully over Jareth's Labyrinth than at the damage to the chickens themselves, and moved Ziggy's mug of harm's way.

"Why? What did the chickens do?" I asked. He stopped rolling about long enough to reply.

"They was in his chair-room! No-body's allowed in King's chair-room no more, he says he jus' got it all pretty, and if us cretins ruin it, he'll hang up our noses as decoration," he said, apparently not at all bothered by the possible danger to his facial features.

"Oh! Well, that sounds reasonable," I said, and found that I was also strangely unbothered by the threat of mutilation. I suspected it was partially because I had come to believe that goblins were, more or less, indestructible, partially because I understood the devastating effects of goblins on a freshly cleaned room, and partially because I was on my third mug of spiked hot cocoa.

Ziggy shrugged. "We goes in anyways. 'Cept for No-Nose, cause King says if we don't got a nose to hang up, he'll take our ears, and No-Nose really likes his ears," he said.

I nodded.

"Yes, he does have nice ears," I replied thoughtfully. I turned around to set my mug on the table behind me, and when I looked back, all the lights in my apartment simultaneously flickered and went out. I sighed and rubbed a hand over my face. Couldn't the goblin fallout have happened on another night? One on which I hadn't been drinking?

"Spooky," Ziggy said from somewhere to my left. I reached out a hand at what I assumed would be about goblin-shoulder-height and patted what I bumped into.

"It's alright, they'll come back on in a minute," probably. I hope.

Of its own accord, my television popped on and started playing back the segment from Hell that I'd watched this morning when I woke up. The little reel at the bottom of the screen erroneously told me that the time was 9:21 A.M.

Apparently, my T.V. had decided it had TiVo.

I sighed heavily. "I had better be getting some serious royalties off of that thing," I mumbled.

Ziggy suddenly whipped around to gape at me.

"You is royalties?" he gasped, and immediately clapped his hands. "You is Queen!"

I quickly shook my head. "No! No, not in that sense. I'm not royalty, I'm collecting royalties," I corrected. He frowned.

"So, you not Queen?"

I shook my head. "No, I'm not a queen," I said, and hauled myself up to go get a few flashlights. I hoped the batteries still worked - my earlier visitors had chewed the replacement packs to uselessness. There had been battery acid that looked like it had been licked off the floor surrounding the remains.

Trust goblins to find hazardous materials a tasty snack.

"See, royalties are something that you get when people use things you've created," I explained as I rummaged through my kitchen drawers. Oh, there's that spare key… "For example, I write stories, and give them to a publishing firm. So when they sell them, I get sent money as payment. A-hah!" I exclaimed, holding up a pair of bright yellow flashlights. Returning to the living room, I handed one to a pondering Ziggy. I let him work out what I had said in his head for a minute and settled back down on the couch, placing my flashlight in the center of the table to illuminate the room.

"What's munny?" he asked finally. I smiled. Of course, goblins didn't have money. What would they use it for?

"Let's see… alright, when you want something that someone else has, like a hat or a shiny thing, you have to give them something in return, right?" I asked. He nodded. "Well, for humans, when we want something, we give people little coins and pieces of paper," I said. He looked a little confused.

"You trade paper?" he asked dubiously. "Is it pretty paper?"

I pulled a face. "Um, not really."

"Is it magic? Does it change shape?"

I shook my head, feeling sillier by the minute. "No, it's not magic in the least."

"Does it taste good?"

I laughed. "No, it doesn't taste good, either."

He frowned. "Munny does not sound fun. Why does you trade something stupid?" he asked, looking at me as though humans were some unfathomable creature with utterly pointless rituals. I rather agreed, most of the time.

I briefly considered trying to explain greed and the monetary system to a being who was used to trading polished pebbles for bouncing fur balls, and decided it would be futile.

"Humans are really weird," I answered. He nodded emphatically.

Looking back at the T.V., which was now showing my past self being trampled by children in slow-mo, Ziggy squinted sideways at me, which was really quite impressive for someone as thoroughly cross-eyed as him.

"You gets munny for that?" he asked. I nodded.

"Yup. A lot of people have magic color boxes, and they can see this too. So, every time I come up in it, I get paid for it," I told him. He tilted his head completely horizontal in an action I recognized as a goblin gesture of deep thought. I'd once asked why they did it, and Gimp had told me it was to shift all the unnecessary thoughts off to the side so the important stuff had room to run around.

Apparently, when they were really confused, running around in circles helped them think.

"Why does Lady Sarah gets paper? Since you is Queen, why not gets pretty stuff? Like pickles?"

I sighed a little, and decided this conversation would go a lot better if I stuck with goblin logic, rather than explaining human logic. "Well, people don't usually want to give up their pickles," I said, to which Ziggy nodded in understanding. "But I supposed if I asked really nicely, they might pay me in something other than money. It's usually easier to just take the paper, though. And I'm not a queen."

Ziggy tilted his head waaay over again, and looked perilously close to needing to run around in circles to make sense of this, so I quickly feigned a yawn and stretched.

"Mmmm, I'm getting really tired, Ziggy. I think it's about time for bed…" I said sleepily. The goblin's eyes abruptly drooped, and he tried in vain to stifle a huge yawn. I suppressed a triumphant grin.

Goblins are so impressionable.

"I's not tired, Lady Sarah. Not sleepy," he insisted as I continued yawning and rubbing my eyes.

"Well, that's alright, Ziggy, I'll just take a little nap and then we can get back up," I said, as I curled myself up in the corner of my couch, snuggling deeply into a pillow. Peeking an eye open, I saw Ziggy's head nod a few times. It was only a matter of time now…

In the middle of a particularly monstrous yawn, the little goblin abruptly keeled over and started snoring. Grinning, I stood and gently picked him up, careful not to jar him - not that it would have mattered, for I was fairly certain that goblins could sleep through Armageddon - and carried him to my room. Off to the side of my bed, I had connected several large dog beds and littered them with pillows and blankets, for those nights when the goblins insisted on a sleepover - because my bed was a goblin-free zone.

Domino cracked an eye at us as I settled Ziggy down, and chuffed sleepily. Stretching a little, he rolled over to make room for me. I smiled and went over to give him a little pat and a kiss on my way out.

I wasn't ready for bed just yet.

Returning to my kitchen, I opened the fridge to make sure it was still running - it was, though as soon as I opened the door the light bulb blew. I grabbed another mug of spiced hot cocoa. Determinedly not looking at my demolished blender and wobbly ceiling fan, I moseyed back into the living room and snagged a blanket, nearly spilling my drink as I tried to one-handedly wrap myself in it and wedge into a corner. It took a few tries, but I succeeded, and once I was satisfactorily cocooned, I stared into the chocolaty depths of my mug and gave my brain free roam over the glitter-infested bits of my mind, and it made a beeline for a thought I had been steadfastly ignoring all evening.

Jareth had made my knees turn to jell-o.

And not out of fear.

Alright, Sarah, you're an adult, I told myself firmly. Own up to it and be mature.

Taking a deep breath, I shoved a little steel into my backbone and squared my shoulders.

Jareth was hot.

And I totally wanted him.

Relaxing, I smiled to myself. That wasn't so hard. After all, you'd have to be blind or insane not to think he was attractive. It didn't mean I wanted to marry him, it just meant I'd like to -

I shook my head roughly. That was not what I was supposed to be thinking about, here.

Since the mighty Goblin King had apparently decided to pop back in and wrangle up his subjects that had been visiting me for the past ten years, I needed to decide what I was going to do about it. I would have to be careful, obviously, because if my libido had its way, I'd wind up molesting him the next time he decided to poof in, and I wasn't really sure what all an affair with a king entailed. I definitely couldn't afford to be dragged Underground for the rest of eternity because I couldn't keep my pants on. Or was it his pants on?

Of course, if Jareth insisted on being perfectly edible every time I saw him, that would be extremely difficult.

I growled at myself and took a long swing of cocoa. This was silly. I was a grown woman, and I could control my hormones.

"Jareth could pop in here right now stark naked and I would be in full control of myself," I told my drink firmly, and to prove my point, I conjured a very detailed image of such an event.

It was a few minutes before I realized I was drooling.

Scowling, I mopped my face off and struggled out of my cocoon, dumping the rest of my drink out and marching off to bed, ordering myself quite forcefully to dream of DMV lines, sour milk, bad cell phone reception, and other such things of a strictly non-magical persuasion, utterly unrelated to goblins or labyrinths - and more specifically, their deliciously unclothed king.

Author's Note: FANSERVICE?! WHERE?!?(I know, I know, it's ridiculously abundant up there. Think of it as an apology for missing my deadline.)

Hmm. It seems that my eyes have not exploded into clouds of ecstatic fluffy glitter. This means I shall have to put more fluff in the next chapter. (We can rebuild it! We'll make it better!)

CoffeeKris: Well, no dulling it down for me, then. I look terrible in mops. You've left me with no choice but to continue to outshine the competition, you realize. There is no one to blame but yourself. ( ^.^ )

Athena's Avatar: Haha, I know! I feel a little bad for him myself, and I'm the one doing it to him! I comfort myself but reminding him that I gave him a fantastic car and great hair. It makes him less mopey.

VampiresRule103: Lol, you have no idea how much fun I had throwing in all those bear refrences. I consider it a supreme display of self control that I stopped before the salmon-catching allusions.

TinkLuvr16: Haha! Hope I delivered, my dear! I CANT WAIT FOR YOUR REVIEW I CANT WAIT FOR YOUR REVIEW I CANT WAIT FOR YOUR REVIEW!

leannapotter: Thank you, darling! I think I'm actually going to go and pretend that Skinner is hiding in my closet. It's quite an entertaing pastime.

notwritten: As always, thank you! *big smile*

MyraValhalah: Hope you enjoyed this installment! (I love your name, by the by! GO VIKINGS! *swings mighty Thor-hammer*)

chrissydarkest: Always happy to provide the next fix!

Tsohg: *Swells with pride* Yes, it was rather awesome, wasn't it? Lol, thank you!

lov2catnap: DONE! I think I need some ice cream now... baaaah. *is sheep-slapped*

Natsuko37: I did, actually. He decided to improve my shoe collection by turning all of them a rather sparkly shade of neon pink. I'd rather not talk about it. lol, thanks!

ive-already-seen-hell: Haha, Thank you, darling!

Dreamjedi: ^.^ Hope you liked this one too!

princesspunkinpatch: Thanks! And worry not, darling, yumminess is indeed in the forecast.