Ninety-two-B in a rundown building, Hell's Kitchen, Manhattan. Why were they always having to chase after goblins in Manhattan, Scully wondered. It didn't seem their most natural environment. The forests of eastern Europe, perhaps, or even the backwater of the Senator's rustic cabin, those made sense, but the crumbling apartment building did not. The name above the bell at the front door had read, "Williams, S." Scully didn't know the exact meaning behind the trip up, but she didn't ask Mulder to explain. There was a feeling in her bones that this was the right course, so she was content to wait it out, to see where he led.

Also, on this trip, they stayed in a different hotel, and that mollified the woman considerably.

They actually stood in front of the door, unmoving, for several quiet moments, though Scully did not know why her partner hesitated. Then again, she did not ask him. Instead, she noticed that the fingers of his left hand were brushing against her own, fidgeting, grasping. She squeezed back lightly, but with purpose. There were more touches now than there used to be; small things, without any particular subtext or significance. Yet Dana Scully knew them for what they were – Mulder reassuring himself that she was still there, that she would not be stolen away in the night ever again. At least, not so long as he was there. She smiled gently as her thumb ran over the rough ridge of his knuckles. Whatever had happened to her while she had been...gone (and she had no idea, and no real wish to know), they were partners once more, and it would take a lot more than mysterious men or office politics to stop that.

Mulder rapped his knuckles smartly on the thin, pine door of apartment Ninety-two-B, and after a low curse and a bit of a groan from inside, it opened; well, it opened as far as its chain would allow it, but that was enough for Scully to catch sight of the face in the door. A girl – a young woman, more precisely, in her early twenties, with a heart-shaped face and green eyes like rubbed sage. Those eyes looked between the two very serious and official looking agents, and the red mouth hummed. "Um...may I help you?"

"Miss Sarah Williams?" Mulder asked, and the name gave Scully a rolling feeling in her stomach. "If she's not very careful, I think that's the girl that will end up being..." Dana could still hear her partner's voice in her head. Oh yes, it was definitely the same girl. It was true Scully hadn't gotten close when they watched her performance (or watched her from the rooftop with her unearthly admirer, either), but she had that same glow in her young eyes. Same rich, sweet voice that had performed Albee's lines on the stage with a flourish. When she agreed that yes, this was her name, Mulder showed off his badge, very casual and calm. "I'm Special Agent Fox Mulder, this is my partner, Special Agent Dana Scully. We're with the federal government-"

"Oh my God." With a sudden click and fidgeting of hands, the girl pulled the chain from off her door, pink tongue poking nervously at the corner of her lip. "If this is about Ricky being a pusher, I swear I dumped his ass the minute I found out and I have no idea where he is now."

It wasn't often Scully saw her partner surprised by a response, but he seemed to be this time, pausing and swaying slightly on his feet in incomprehension. At last he was able to reply, "...this isn't about drugs, Miss Williams."

"...oh." She was an elegant young thing, to Scully's mind, even in a pair of worn jeans and a loose fitting sweater; the kind of girl that just gave off an air of grace, whatever her circumstances. She was taller than the federal agent as well, though certainly not of a level with Mulder. Even so, her hands moved restlessly at her sides or over her legs. "What is it about, then?"

"I think we have a mutual acquaintance."

"I don't know who you could possibly-" She stiffened when Mulder pulled his hand from his coat pocket, the crystal held securely between his fingers. The young woman's eyes were wide and her pupils were small in the light it gave off – rather like she had seen a ghost, to Scully's mind. How she wished Mulder would stop dragging that damn ball everywhere... "Where did you get that." Her voice had dropped to a whisper, slightly husky in the quiet of the apartment hallway. "Did Jareth give that to you?"

Mulder blinked, sliding the orb safely back into his pocket. "Jareth?"

Young Miss Williams folded her arms, seeming slightly impatient at this repeat. "The Goblin King."

"Oh." The partners exchanged unknowing glances. "We weren't on a first name basis with him."

Sarah snorted. "Yeah, well, don't read too much into that." Before Mulder could ask another question, she pulled the pine door fully open, stepping aside. "You guys might as well come in, this isn't the sort of conversation to have in the hallway."

"We couldn't agree more, Miss Williams, thank you."

"Sarah's fine," she corrected as they walked in, graciously taking Mulder's heavy trench coat and motioning to a threadbare couch not far from the door. As for many twenty somethings, it served more than just the functions of a couch: it seemed to be part table, part closet, part life raft; a notebook and two different colored pens were scattered on one side; a still-plush sweatshirt with the name, "Columbia," emblazoned across the front hung off the back; and trade magazines were stacked against one arm, or falling off onto the floor. On the coffee table, Scully spied what appeared to be a script, with a yellow highlighter resting atop it. "Sorry for the mess," she murmured, hooking the coat onto a peg on the wall by the door. "I need to be off book by Friday. Tea, coffee?"

Once again, Mulder and Scully glanced at each other, gauging the other's answer. Scully spoke up this time. "Tea would be fine, thank you."

"Feel free to sit down. I'll be out in just a minute." The young lady disappeared around the stucco corner a few feet ahead and to the left of the couch, and the thudding, slightly-crashing sounds of cutlery being moved about could be heard, as well as water running in the sink. Mulder took the opportunity to clear room on the couch for the two of them while Scully indulged in a brief appraisal of the small apartment.

The decorations were a bit eclectic, but they left a nice impression, to her mind. A great many theater posters were tacked to the walls, but sprinkled liberally amongst these were prints of Escher and Waterhouse. Stranger still was what decorated the shelves. Standard family photographs; Scully could recognize the girl a few years younger, beaming as she held a sticky, smiling toddler in her arms. There were graduation photos, and photos of her in costume, bowing with a bunch of roses in her clutch. But next to these there was a funny little statuette of some Tolkien-like dwarfish creature with a bulbous nose. On another shelf, a well-worn stuffed fox had a be-feathered cap on his head, canted at a jaunty angle, and he sported an eye-patch as well. The woman smiled as she flicked the feather, thinking back to her own childhood, before bending to yet more shelves, these a mix of books and films. Many were great plays, either in print or in production, but she could find C.S. Lewis and J.R.R. Tolkien among them as well. A little, red leather volume whose gold lettering was too faded to read, and the Brothers Grimm next to the Shaw. Scully was about to thumb one of the books when she paused at the edge of the row, a careful frown on her red lips. There was a gap between books, though whatever was causing it was hidden in the shadows of the shelf. Rather bulky for a bookend... She was just reaching a hand through the dusty darkness when the young woman returned, a makeshift tea tray in her arms and a polite smile on her face. "Cream, lemon, sugar, anybody?"

"None for me, thanks," Mulder waved off as he sat up straighter, making room on the table for the tray as Scully wandered back to find a seat next to her partner.

The girl pulled up a chair from the desk stuck into the corner of the room and carefully stirred sugar into her mug as it rested precariously on her knee. "This is probably rude, but I'd like to cut to the chase here. If I mention, 'Goblin King,' to someone, usually I get looked at like I ought to be in an asylum."

"I've gotten that, from time to time," Mulder assured her with a thin smile, while Scully just looked at him from the corner of her blue eyes.

"You know the Goblin King – but you don't know his name."

"No," the older woman replied, setting her own mug down to cool. "But you do. You seem to know more than we do."

"But you guys work for the government. Shouldn't you have files on, like...everything?"

"Oh, we do," Mulder assured, sipping at the drink despite its heat with a familiar mischief in his muddled eyes. "Like that deduction on your taxes last year? For shame, Miss Williams."

The young Sarah woman smiled a little more easily, smoothing her sweater over her torso. "Right...well, why don't you start with why you're here? Because I really don't have a clue."

"It's about Senator Beaumont."

"Senator Beaumont?" she repeated, blinking green eyes and pointing behind her toward her television set. "The one on the news, the one on all those subcommittees – the one who's missing?"

"That's right."

"And you think Jareth did that." There was almost a laugh to her voice; not that the situation was so funny, but just a gasping moment of incredulity at the conclusions Mulder was drawing.

His thick brow furrowed. "You disagree?"

"It's just that I've only ever known him to steal children, not...senators."

"You must know him pretty well."

Sarah fixed the man with a bit of a cold look. "I really don't. What makes you suspect Goblin Kings anyway, and not...I dunno, a terrorist cell?" Mulder pulled the tawny feather from the inner pocket on his blazer, letting it twist between his fingers again. With hardly a moment's hesitation, the young woman took it in her hand, stroking it gently against her fingertips. "A feather?"

"It just seemed a little questionable – that, plus the claw marks."

"I'm no ornithologist, so I'm afraid I can't tell you if these are the feathers of a mystical Peeping Tom or not." She gave a thin smile as she handed it back. "Sorry, Detective."

"Special Agent."

"If you don't mind my asking...why come to me? What did you think I could do?"

The million dollar question: Scully turned slightly on the couch to face her partner. Mulder slumped backwards with a sigh. "Well, I don't know who else I would go to about Goblin Kings. The only other person who has spent any time with him – besides Scully and myself – is a ten year old boy. Not the best for hostage negotiations."

"But...why me? I mean, you're federal agents. I'm an actress. What did you expect of me?" She seemed genuinely curious.

"You did beat the Labyrinth, didn't you?"

Her green eyes went a little bit wider, her breath came in with shallower gasps. "You know about that, too?"

"Not exactly. It was a bit of an educated guess." Mulder's jaw worked back and forth as if he were chewing a seed. Thinking, Scully realized.

The woman was staring into her cup, looking a little pensive. Scully's brow pinched together, watching her. "...there might be something I can do..." she mumbled, her voice just barely making it past her mug of tea.

"Needless to say, your government would be appreciative."

Sarah snorted slightly, setting down the mug and rising to her feet. "Gee, thanks. You two can watch, if you want, but it's going to get a bit weird."

"'Watch?'"

"Weird?" The girl had already disappeared through a door – probably her bedroom, Scully surmised, rising to her feet as her partner leaned over to whisper in her ear. "I already like where this is going." Scully's eyes rolled, but her mouth smiled.

The two agents walked slowly into the young woman's bedroom – not quite tidy, not quite neat. Certainly it wasn't in the bedraggled state of her sofa, but there were a few items of clothing scattered along foot boards and dripping off coat hangers. There weren't as many posters here as in the living room, and abundantly more pictures of family; that little towheaded boy featured prominently, in every stage from infancy to young childhood, and there were quite a few pictures of him with the girl that must be his highly devoted elder sister. The only way they really seemed to look alike, Scully thought, was in the roundness of their nose, perhaps the brilliance of their smile, but otherwise, they were as different as night and day. And where was that dark haired sister? She was already seated at her vanity, an antique and wobbly piece of furniture painted white, bits of costume jewelry and stage makeup mixed haphazardly among the genuine items along its cluttered top. The elder female agent just caught her saying, "Hoggle, I need you."

Neither Mulder nor Scully had time to ask what she was doing, or who Hoggle was – because a face appeared in the mirror, reflected next to Sarah's own smooth features. Scully tensed slightly; the position of the face meant he ought to be standing between she and Mulder, the way he met eyes with Sarah in the mirror. And as for that face...not human, that was clear. Humanoid, yes, but he looked remarkably like that bulb-nosed statuette in the living room, with a grating voice and clipped speech. "'ere now, Sarah," this creature, this Hoggle began, casting glances at the two federal agents. "What's all this?"

For her part, Sarah didn't even blink, her fingers running smoothly along her vanity top and acting as though this was the most normal occurrence in the world; but, for her, perhaps it was? "Hoggle," the young woman said, her voice melodic in the dark of her bedroom. "This is important. Has anyone shown up in the Labyrinth recently? Is there someone new there?"

"Someone new?" With sausage-like fingers, the dwarfish creature scratched at grey tufts of hair that poked out from beneath a leather skull cap. "T'ere ain't been no new Runner, if that's what yer worried about."

Sarah turned in the vanity seat and looked at the agents with eyes that were unnervingly clear and calm. "Senator Beaumont wouldn't have made any wishes, would he?"

"To the Goblin King?" Mulder was adjusting his tie, eyes still fixed on Hoggle, who seemed to be glaring right back at him. "I very much doubt it."

Sarah turned round again. "Not a Runner, Hoggle. Just a person. Someone really important in my world – older, talks kind of funny-"

"Well..."

"Well?"

The Hoggle creature's eyes were blue and wet, and he looked furtively about, as though struck with nerves. "There was a bit o' gossip about someone showin' up at the Castle day or two ago. Goblins haven't stopped cacklin' about it yet." Goblins...Scully couldn't repress a shudder, and was glad to feel her partner's fingers at her elbow. Those little eyes, those little teeth, and yes, those cackling voices in the shadows...

Sarah sighed, leaning back on her vanity seat with her fingers tucked beneath the rim of the chair to balance herself. "That sounds about right..." Wordlessly, she turned her face to the two agents, green eyes filled with questions.

Scully half turned to Mulder, her voice a low whisper. "That's not compelling evidence that the Senator's in the Underground – but I'm not going to say it wouldn't make some amount of sense. The time frame is right, at least."

Mulder addressed both the women. "How would we get there? Through the mirror, is that how it's done?"

"It would work," Sarah nodded. "That's how Hoggle and the others come in and out."

"What others?"

The girl's nose crinkled. "Not the Goblin King, if that's what you're asking."

Mulder was silent a minute, hands fisted in his pockets. "...Scully?"

Her pause was nearly so pregnant as her partner's. "If Senator Beaumont is in there, we have to go get him."

"That's what I was thinking."

"Wait a second!" The woman twisted in her seat, body half turned away from the vanity to address the two investigators. "Have you ever been in the Labyrinth before? Do you know what you're up against?"

"We haven't been in the Labyrinth, no," Scully affirmed, quietly pulling out her sidearm and giving it a quick check for ammunition. She could see the girl swallow nervously from the corner of her blue eyes. "But I'd like to think we know what we're up against."

"Not if you haven't been in the Labyrinth you don't. What would you even do when you got there?"

"Go to the Castle?" Mulder offered, seeming somewhat amused by the bent of this conversation.

"It's not like it's a stroll down the yellow brick road, you know! It's – you'd-!" She puffed and flustered a moment longer before she took a very deep breath, teeth worrying at her lower lip and turning back to the vanity. "I mean...I guess I'd have to go with you."

"What?" That was the gruff incredulity of Hoggle, and before Scully could blink, she found the strange little creature at her side, standing in the exact position he would have been to cast his reflection in the mirror. The woman jumped slightly, her fingers tightening on her gun, but she reigned her calm back in masterfully. "Have you gone out of our bloody head! Jareth'd smell you the instant you touched your foot in the Underground!"

Sarah stood easily from her vanity stool, a kind of regality in the gesture, despite the drabness of her cheap apartment. "I can handle Jareth."

"You!" The dwarf blustered, stomping his small foot, and both Mulder and Scully stepped slightly back from him. "You're plum out of your brain, you are!"

The young woman flicked her long, dark hair over one shoulder before lowering her delicate hand to the dwarf's skull cap, her voice soothing and dulcet in the dark bedroom. "Hoggle," she said with a kind of sincerity that seemed to reach him in his angered panic, "who else would get them through the Labyrinth?"

The dwarfy, hobbity thing smacked his lips in distaste as he tried to formulate an argument. "...well, who cares if they get through the Labyrinth?"

"Gee, thanks very much," Mulder drawled wryly, and Sarah gave him a quick smile before returning her attention back to her friend.

"It's the right thing to do, Hoggle."

"Pah." The dwarf just shook his head, stomping his foot again. "Yer almost as nutty as Didymus with that kind of talk."

"It's a piece of cake!" the girl smiled and straightened. She looked brave and calm, maybe even a bit excited, but Scully remembered that she was an actress, and therefore wondered how much of it was true. "I'd rather not waste any time; do you guys think you'd be ready to go tonight – now?"

Mulder and Scully looked at each other once – nodded. "The sooner the better."

"Great!" Sarah rubbed her palms along the out-seam of her jeans, looking around her bedroom with a thoughtful air. "This is kind of lucky, we can actually prepare this time. Um, Agent...Scully, was it?" The woman nodded her head at the probing look of the girl. Sarah smiled graciously. "You're not going to want to wear all...that. Trust me, I walked it in flats last time and I was ready to just chop my feet off when I got back. I have some hiking boots you can borrow, what size are you?"

"This is bloody foolish this is..." Hoggle was still grumbling, but Sarah was delicately pushing him out toward the rest of her living quarters, and Mulder made to follow.

"I guess I'll wait outside," he smiled at Scully. "Let you get your adventure makeover."

The woman fixed him with something of a cold look, catching his arm just before he could disappear out the door. "Mulder, when all this is over, you owe me some serious anti-psychotics."

"Would you settle for a bottle of gin?" His grin was the last bit of him she had to look at before the door shut.