Author's Note: Thanks for reviewing! All of you made my day. Now read this and tell me what you think!

Jareth spun in a quick circle, looking for any sign of Sarah. He found her foot prints without difficulty, and noted with a tremor of fear that they led right up to the dock. Jareth followed them, and looked down that rickety platform. Stay calm, he thought. You're no good to Sarah if you panic. Now, if she's not on the dock, then she must be in the water. But she wouldn't have gone in the water, would she? Jareth peered forward, as far as his keen eyes could see, and then he spotted her. Sarah's brunette head was bobbing up and down in the water as she swam away from the dock!

What is she doing?! The sight of her spurred Jareth into action. He sprang forward and tried to run on the dock, but the wood creaked and swayed ominously; he wouldn't be able to move quickly. Jareth choked out an expletive before calling, "Sarah!" He called again, cupping his hands around his mouth, but still she did not hear him. Jareth made his way forward, slower this time, carefully picking his footing, cursing the wooden planks and the trees from whence they came. It became a pattern: he looked down and found a semi-sturdy spot to place his foot, then he looked up to see where Sarah was, and then he looked down to find another safe foot-hold, and then he looked up again to find Sarah. Jareth could see her swimming steadily away, towards the center of the lake, and he again cursed the pier beneath him for slowing his progress.

All of a sudden, Sarah stopped swimming. Jareth saw her tread water, and spin in place several times, as if she had lost something and was frantically trying to find it. She opened her mouth several times and called out something, but Jareth couldn't hear what it was she said. He tried calling her again, waving his arms in the air to get her attention, but she neither saw nor heard him. After a few minutes of treading water, Jareth saw her turn around, and swim back to the dock. He moved forward once more, determined to reach her and to get her out of that black water.

When she was a few meters from the dock, Jareth saw her head disappear under the murky water. He thought it might have been deliberate, some sort of swimming stroke…

Sarah kicked her legs frantically, trying to dislodge the hand that had pulled her under, and now firmly held her ankle. She kicked again, her lungs beginning to burn. One more time, Sarah. You can get free, the dock's right there…She gathered her strength and gave a final kick and felt the hand let go of her ankle. She kicked her way upwards, and once she broke the surface, she screamed, letting the fear and panic of a moment ago out.

Jareth felt her scream travel down every bone in his spine, jolting him recklessly forward. As he made his tottering way towards her, Sarah began to swim once more. She made smooth, even strokes, and didn't appear to be in any more distress. Then she screamed again, but this time her cry was interrupted as she disappeared under the water once more, replaced by the sound of ominous silence and Jareth's heartbeat. "Sarah!!" Jareth screamed. He sprinted forward, not caring for the splintering wood beneath his feet, not hearing the dock creak and crack beneath him. His only thought was to get to Sarah. If he could only get to her, he'd have her safe…

Sarah was held fast by that same hand, and others just like it. Adrenaline coursed through her as she kicked and bucked and fought to keep the hands away. They were everywhere. On her ankles, on her legs, her thighs, her waist, her wrists, her arms…they held her fast, their firm, bruising grips making all movement impossible. Down they pulled her, down, down, down. She felt the hands hold her, so tightly that she'd have bruises of the deepest, darkest blue to say nothing of broken bones if they squeezed any harder. Still other hands roughly caressed her, sliding over her legs, and her stomach, ripping the fabric away. Sarah could feel the rough, grimy hands touch the soft skin of her belly, and she screamed, her cry escaping as a series of life-containing bubbles. Sarah struggled violently, but then the hands got a hold of her hair, and pulled her head down, exposing her neck, which one particularly strong hand took it upon itself to squeeze. Sarah kicked and turned and shoved, all to no avail. Slowly losing consciousness from lack of air and pain, Sarah's screams became internal. All thought of not panicking and remaining calm was gone. All that was left was a constant, hysterical mantra:Let me go – Let me go – Let me go!! Sarah could feel her vision narrowing, the dim light of the surface becoming dimmer and dimmer, and she knew she was done for. As her mind became hazier and hazier, the hands miraculously released her, all of them, and she floated dreamily upwards. When she reached the surface, her first breath of oxygen was like the breath of life. It was the spark she needed; she snapped out of the dreamy haze and frantically splashed in the water, reaching upwards for the dock that was just overhead.

Jareth saw Sarah surface right beside the dock where he stood. She didn't see him as she found a handhold on the dock and slowly began to pull herself out of the water. He instantly reached down to help her. The second his hand touched her skin, Sarah screamed and let go of the dock, falling back into the water with large splash. "Sarah!" Jareth screamed her name and laid himself flat on the dock. He stretched his arm as far down as possible, waving it in front of her face as she resurfaced. "Sarah! It's me, Jareth! Take my hand!" She didn't move for a moment, as if she still hadn't seen him, and then she came to herself and took his hand, letting him haul her out of the water.

Jareth let her go the moment she was completely out of the water and on the dock. She lay flat on her belly, unmoving save for the heaving of her ribs as she tried to catch her breath. Jareth allowed her one moment to recover herself, noting in that moment that she was naked from the waist up save for her sodden hair and her flesh-colored bra. But he couldn't do anything about that now; they had to get out of there. Jareth wasn't going to trust the lake or the dock for one moment longer. He knelt down and helped Sarah to her feet wordlessly, draping one of her arms across his neck, while his arm went round her waist. When she was upright, he moved them forward. She leaned heavily upon him at first, and he could feel her body shaking, with weakness, shock, or just cold, he didn't know. But he couldn't stop. They had to leave this place. Whatever had had her had let her go for now, and Jareth could feel a difference in the air, almost an assurance that they were free to go for now, but that might change in a few minutes. They had to get off this dock now. They had to get out of the darkness. He had to get her to safety.

After an hour of stumbling, hurried, and relentless travel, they were out of the darkness, but it was becoming harder and harder to tell. The sun had finally set, and only a few rays reached them from beyond the horizon, illuminating the path before them. Still, Jareth pushed them onwards and away from the darkness. Sarah hadn't said anything; all her thoughts were focused on keeping up with Jareth's grueling pace. She leaned on Jareth more and more, letting him support her when her body couldn't, and still they kept going. It wasn't until almost all of the light was gone that Jareth stopped. Despite the chill of the night Jareth was sweating, his body both warming and supporting Sarah.

The path they had taken had led them deep into a forested area, and Jareth found a fallen tree upon which to place Sarah. Sarah sank gratefully onto the natural seat, crossing her arms tightly in front of her, trying to retain the heat of Jareth's body. Jareth used his keen vision to search for dry wood: Sarah was still soaked through, and the temperature was rapidly dropping. Luckily the search was fruitful; there were plenty of spare limbs about, perfectly sized for easy carrying. Jareth made several trips, depositing the armfuls of lumber into a pile a few feet away from where Sarah sat, shivering and quiet. Within moments, he had enough timber for a modest fire, and he set about lighting it. The second they had left the darkness, Jareth had felt a small part of his magic return to him, and he used this magic now to light a small piece of kindling, which he placed near some larger kindling, watching it catch. Soon, yellow, orange, and red flames licked at the carefully placed pile of branches, and Jareth turned to face Sarah.

She was wrapped in on herself, no doubt freezing. Jareth shed his black overcoat quickly, and then pulled the white, ruffled shirt he was wearing underneath out of his pants, and over his head. He handed the garment to Sarah, and she took it quietly. Jareth put his overcoat back on, the chill of the air raising goose pimples on his heated flesh.

Sarah slowly put on his shirt, reveling in the warmth it brought her. It fell to just below her mid-thigh, and Sarah decided to get out of her wet jeans. She stood slowly, every movement painful, and stepped away from Jareth, retreating into the secrecy of night momentarily to shed her soaked jeans. When she returned, she laid the pants over the log she had been sitting on, close to the fire so that they'd dry. Jareth was standing by the fire, his face an impenetrable mask. Like Sarah, he'd said nothing since he'd gotten her out of that lake. Now Sarah was afraid to break the silence. She came to stand next to him, facing him, just a few feet away. It was Jareth who spoke first.

"So this is why you told Clara to tell me to visit you."

He hadn't looked away from the fire while he spoke, but Sarah could sense the restraint he was placing upon himself.

"Yes," she said, her voice a painful croak. She ignored the pain and continued, "You came for me before. I knew you'd come again. I was counting on it, in case something happened…"

"In case something like…oh…I don't know…something like you going off into the darkness on your own happened? Was that it?" He still wouldn't look at her.

"Yes," Sarah said, her voice very small.

"Why, Sarah? Why did you do it?" He hadn't raised his voice; indeed, his tone was almost flat, but Sarah felt as if he'd yelled at her all the same.

"I had to know what we were up against. I had to know what the darkness was."

"And what have you learned, Sarah?"

Sarah took a deep breath. "To listen to you." Jareth finally looked at her, wanting to hear the rest of her statement. "You told me not to go. You made me promise. I broke my promise; I betrayed your trust in me. And the only thing that's changed is that I've scared you, worse than before. I'm sorry Jareth. I don't know what I can do to make it right, to make you trust me again, or if that's even possible, but I am sorry."

Jareth listened to her apology, wanting to rail at her, wanting to make her know just how much she had terrified him, wanting her to know some part of the torture he'd endured not knowing what was happening to her. What kind of idiocy had possessed her to jump into that water? Didn't she have enough sense to suspect that the murky water in the dark sector of the Labyrinth spelled danger as clearly as possible? He'd warned her. He'd told her it was dangerous. And yet she had still gone. And now look at her! But then he looked at Sarah, and met her eyes, her lovely, earnest eyes. He couldn't do it. The anger in him died. He just couldn't do it; he didn't have the heart. Jareth saw the bruises liberally marring her flesh, the welts and scratches on her skin, and all the hurt he felt towards her evaporated, replaced by compassion. She was waiting for his answer, her head up tall and her spine straight, although Jareth could see her body shivering with the effort involved. He relented.

"Just don't do it again, Sarah. Promise me. I can't do this again. I won't be able to bear it. Promise me."

Sarah nodded, relieved. "I promise, Jareth." She held his gaze, meeting his eyes, and felt his unspoken forgiveness.

Jareth nodded, accepting her promise, and then asked, "Are you all right?"

Sarah smiled, finding it ironic that he should ask her such a visually obvious question. She watched him shake his head, understanding his intent to express concern as well as his distaste with the blunt way he'd asked. "I'm fine," she said. He gave her a skeptical look, and she continued. "Yes, I'm a bit the worse for wear, but I'm alive, aren't I? That's a start." Her voice gained strength as she spoke, Jareth was pleased to note.

She walked closer to the fire, and sat down gingerly, her back to one of the fallen logs, Jareth's shirt tucked modestly about her thighs. She padded the ground next to her in invitation, and he didn't need telling twice. He seated himself next to her, careful not to sit too close, but still wanting to be near her. Sarah stretched her hands out towards the fire, chafing them together to warm them. Jareth watched her, noting with concern the dark bruises marring her flesh; what had happened to her?

"Please tell me what happened, Sarah."

Sarah raised a hand to rub her throat delicately. "I left this morning after meeting Clara and Hoggle. They had no idea of my intentions. I used a map that I'd made to get to the darkness, and reached it a few hours after midday. The moment I stepped into it, I could feel a difference. Aside from it being literally dark, there is a darkness there that goes beyond the physical. It's more of a lurking danger, and a menacing malevolence; a silent, hidden cocktail of fear, loathing, and evil, one you can't see, but you can feel it. The very air is alive with it."

Jareth nodded at her description; that was how he'd felt about the darkness too. "Well said, Sarah."

"There was nothing in the darkness, save for the remnants of the Labyrinth that was there before it. It was almost as if the darkness was eating away at the Labyrinth. Anyway, I found that lake and went out onto the pier. I felt drawn out there, like something was calling me, like I was needed. So I went. And the rest you know."

Jareth swallowed, and then continued his interrogation. "Now, what possessed you to get into that water?"

"There was a child. A dwarf child, floating on a piece of jetsam out in the water. She was crying, and called for help. I had to help her, so I jumped into the water and swam towards her. All the time, I talked to her, trying to calm her down. I asked her name and how old she was and what her favorite things were. When I got to her, she just vanished. I looked all around, but I didn't see her. So I swam back to the dock. Just before I got there, something grabbed my ankle. It grabbed again and pulled me under, and there were hands every where, like in the chamber that leads to the oubliette. They grabbed me, and wouldn't let go. They did this to me," she held her arms out, indicating the bruises and welts. "I don't know what made them let go. But I was free and then you were there." She finished speaking, rubbing her throat gingerly. It must have been paining her as her voice had gone hoarse as she finished.

Jareth thought for a moment, coming to terms with the information she had told him. Hands? In the lake? Why? It didn't make sense. And what of the child Sarah saw – it must have been some sort of lure, a trap, a …oh, surely not…no… "Sarah," Jareth asked, trying for calm, "you said you asked the child her name. What was it?" Jareth held his breath, waiting for her response, dreading what it might be.

Sarah furrowed her brows, and then answered, "Adonna. She said her name was Adonna." The second she had said it, Sarah's mouth fell open. "Jareth, that's the name of the child that disappeared into the darkness!" Jareth nodded silently, unwilling to add anything else. They sat in silence, staring at the fire, until Sarah spoke, "It was never her, was it? It was just an illusion, a trap, to lure me into that water. Jareth, do you realize what that means?"

He finished her thought, "It means the darkness is sentient. And that makes it all the more dangerous." Once more they lapsed into a thoughtful silence. After a few minutes, Sarah spoke again.

"Jareth."

"Hmmm?"

"If it is so dangerous, why did it let me go? Did you do anything? Did you use your magic to make it?"

"I didn't. I couldn't. I didn't have any in the darkness. I barely have any as it is now, which is why we have to spend the night out here in the cold, rather than in the castle. I don't know why they let you go. I can't explain it. But I'm glad they did."

Sarah looked to Jareth, and saw the helplessness in his eyes, and relented. "Forget about it. We'll talk about it tomorrow. And it's not so bad out here. It's actually sort of cozy." She relaxed against the log, stretching her legs and arms out towards the fire. The soles of her feet were warm, as were her hands, but the rest of her, the part of her that was furthest from the fire, was still practically frigid.

Jareth mirrored her actions, feeling a deep exhaustion descend upon him. He held up a gloved hand to mask a yawn and then he looked at Sarah, taking full stock of her injuries. Not being able to help himself, Jareth gently took Sarah's arm in his hand. He rubbed his hand over a particularly dark bruise circling her wrist, his touch feather-soft. Sarah was surprised by his actions, but found his touch soothing. She watched him run his hand down her arms, entranced by his motions. She looked to Jareth's face, and saw the concern and care written in his eyes, and something else…perhaps desire? Sarah leaned into his touch, catching his hand as it caressed her fingers, holding his hand within her own. They stayed like that, both watching the play of their fingers, mesmerized by the sight and by the sensations. Sarah's gaze shifted from their linked hands to Jareth's lips, the firelight and her own desire making her bold. Do it, her mind said. It's now or never, girl, just lean forward and kiss him… Just then, the fire gave a great pop, startling them both. Jareth dropped Sarah's hand immediately and crossed his arms over his chest.

He spoke quickly, changing the subject. "So, we've spent plenty of time talking about me and my life. Tell me something about you. What did you do after you graduated college? Jareth wasn't looking at her; Sarah couldn't see his eyes anymore, to see if she'd seen what she thought she had. Maybe it was just the firelight reflected in his eyes, and nothing else. Maybe.

Sarah dismissed the thought from her mind, and answered him. "I suppose we have talked about you a lot. Let's see; what did I do after I graduated college? I applied to join the Peace Corps just before I graduated, and then by the time I graduated, I had been accepted and assigned a location." Sarah saw Jareth's confused look, and elaborated. "The Peace Corps is a large, volunteer organization all over the world Aboveground. I guess you could say that it's sort of like the Army in that when you are accepted, you have to commit two years of your life to serving them right away. My parents – my father and Karen, weren't pleased with my decision to join the Peace Corps. But, I didn't have any job offers – there aren't many jobs that require an education in diplomacy and those that do generally involve running a country. But since I studied Spanish – the Spanish language – I went to Paraguay, a smallish country in South America. I worked mainly with children, teaching them English and some math."

"That explains why you are so good with the children here."

"Yes, I suppose it does." Sarah hid her smile, pleased that he had noticed something she was good at. She was about to continue when Sarah saw Jareth try to stifle a yawn. She looked at him, really looked at his face, and saw how exhausted he was. "Why don't you lie down, Jareth, and try to sleep while I tell you all about it." Sarah looked around for something that Jareth could use as a pillow.

Jareth started to protest, "I'm fine, Sarah, really. Perhaps you should rest…"

"No," she said quickly. "I'm the reason you're stuck out here, and I'm the reason you're exhausted." Sarah tried for a commanding, matronly tone. "You're going to rest, Jareth. Now lie down."

He smiled. "Where would you suggest I lie down?"

"Lie facing the fire; you can use my lap as a pillow."

Jareth wasn't sure he'd heard her correctly. "I'm sorry…would you repeat that, Sarah?"

"What?" She stared at him, not understanding the problem. "I said you can use my lap as a pillow. It's the softest thing out here; why not? One of us should be comfortable at least."

Jareth cast a cursory gaze down to her lap, noting the dark bruises. "I can't. I'm afraid I'll hurt you," he said, his tone utterly serious.

Sarah met his eyes, her strong gaze practically piercing, assessing him. Apparently she reached a decision, and she quietly told him, "You could never hurt me, Jareth."

Jareth didn't know what to say to that, so he didn't say anything at all. He simply slid away from the log and laid himself down perpendicular to Sarah, his head resting on her lap. She stretched her legs out and leaned back to accommodate him. Having him so near, his head a warm weight in her lap, his hair tickling the skin of her legs…it was surreal, to say the least, in Sarah's opinion.

"All right, I'm resting. Now tell me about Paraguay."

"How can you rest with your eyes open, Jareth?"

He wanted to ask her how he was supposed to rest with her so near to him, the flesh of her thighs pillowing his head, but he stifled another yawn instead, and obeyed.

When his eyes were shut, Sarah began to speak. She told him about the shock of immersing herself completely in a non-English culture. "I'd studied Spanish in school, and I thought I understood it well enough. Then I arrived and the people of the village where I was stationed just spoke so quickly and so fluently – I mean of course they were fluent, but they were far more fluent than I was – it was overwhelming. I missed my family, a lot. The new people, the foreign language, the unfamiliar surroundings – all those factors combined caused me to almost quit after my first week. But I didn't. I just told myself that I could do it. Other people had done it; why not me? So I stayed. And gradually, the people became my friends, the land became familiar, and the language became natural. I grew to love it, all of it."

Sarah paused in her narrative, looking down at Jareth. With his eyes already shut, it was hard to tell if he was asleep or not. His chest rose and fell rhythmically, and Sarah was pleased, for no reason in particular, to note that he didn't snore. "Jareth?" She called softly.

"Hmmm?" His response was sleepy. Not much longer then; truth be told, she was exhausted as well.

"Nothing. Now where was I? Oh, yes. I came to love it there; it became my home away from home. Not right away – it must have been six months before I really felt like I belonged there. Not like here. Here I felt like … I don't know…I guess it was like coming home. Like the Labyrinth was – is – my home. Funny, I suppose." Why is that? Sarah wondered. I've been here for just a few weeks, and already this place is home. What am I going to do when I have to leave? Maybe he'll let me stay if I beg him. Maybe he'll ask me to stay…? Don't get your hopes up on that one, said the voice of reason in Sarah's mind. She looked back down at Jareth. He'd not moved at all while she'd had her internal monologue. Perhaps he was asleep now.

"Jareth?" She whispered. He didn't stir. "Jareth?" Sarah said again, this time a bit louder. Still, he didn't move. Sarah crossed her arms over her chest, pulling the collar of Jareth's shirt to her nose, inhaling the delicious, masculine scent of him. She caught a glimpse of her bra. Why did I have to choose this plain thing to wear the day he finally sees me in my underwear? Why couldn't I have worn something sexy and beautiful? She shook her head, and looked back down at Jareth. Sarah finally felt that it was safe enough to do something she'd itched to do for as long as she could remember. Raising one hand ever so slowly, she softly ran her hands through his hair, tentatively at first, but soon she was freely running her hands through the wild strands.

Jareth wasn't asleep. It had taken all of his self-control not to move the second he felt her touch. He held himself still, almost afraid to breathe, afraid to move an inch lest she stop her sweet torture. Did she know what her touch wrought on him, how he'd longed for it with every fiber of his being? With her ever so gentle touch, Jareth could imagine that they were two lovers, on a nighttime stroll through the woods. Her touch was so tender, so loving, that it brought tears to Jareth's closed eyes. He held them in, unwilling to let the sight of them ruin this sweet torture. He reveled in her caress, and yet he also despaired at it. And still, he did not move.

Sarah was surprised to find his hair so soft; the wild spikes should have been stiff and hard to her touch. How else could he have managed that high, untamed coiffure? Perhaps he kept his hair so alive with magic... Sarah's fingers combed through his silky mane, luxuriating in the feel of his hair on her skin. Suddenly déjà vu struck: Sarah recalled touching his hair before, running her hands through the pale, golden locks. She stopped for a moment, and raised her hand to better see it in the flickering firelight. She could clearly see it as it was now, but with a strange sort of double vision, she saw her hand as it had been when she was younger: smaller, softer, and pudgier. Sarah blinked her eyes to clear the image, and raised a clearly adult hand to stifle a yawn. She rested her head back against the log and felt sleep steal over her, pulling her under. The cold didn't matter anymore. She felt as if she was falling asleep after an eternity of wakefulness, and the second she closed her eyes, she felt herself pulled down a planned path, as if something had been waiting for her to fall asleep, waiting to bring her a dream that she was meant to remember.

Jareth felt Sarah's exploration of his hair cease, and felt her body relax. He sneaked a peak upwards and saw that she had her eyes closed, apparently asleep. He closed his eyes once more, the sight of Sarah peacefully sleeping more soporific than he could have ever expected. He felt sleep stealing him away, like a door being unlocked in his mind, and once opened, he remembered the first time he had ever met Sarah Williams.

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Author's Addendum: Please review!!