Disclaimer: I do not own Labyrinth or any of Jim's Henson's wonderful characters.

Chapter 2

Why Goblins Should Not Make Pancakes

Sarah woke up the next morning to the soft light of the sun flittering through her bedroom window.

Stretching, she swung her feet over the side of her bed and trudged sleepily over to her dresser, pulling out whatever clothes her hands touched first.

After a refreshing shower, Sarah emerged from the bathroom to find the clothes she grabbed included socks, pajama pants, and a… pillowcase?

Yes, Sarah thought as she held the garb up. Definitely a pillowcase.

Sarah wrapped a towel around herself and went back into her room in search of new clothes.

After pulling on a black tank top and shorts, Sarah stepped out of her room. The door at the end of the hallway was closed, signifying that her parents had come home sometime in the early morning. Deciding not to disturb them, Sarah tip-toed to the stairs and made her way to the kitchen. The clock in the hallway now read 8:30, so Sarah figured she had another thirty minutes until the seven year old ball of energy woke up.

The kitchen was lit brightly by the early, summer-morning sun. The kitchen cabinets had once been a pristine white color. That was until the goblins got to them. Now they were splatter-painted rainbow colors. To this day, Sarah still didn't know how the goblins had got their hands on the paint.

Of course, Sarah had been blamed for the mess, but she explained that this was her way of "expressing her artistic self" (she couldn't very well tell her parents that goblins had trashed their kitchen). Her dad had preferred the colored cabinets to the old white ones, but that didn't stop him from grounded her. Sarah had refused to let any goblins through the portal in her bedroom for the next month.

Sarah yawned as she stepped into the kitchen but froze mid-stretch when she saw a goblin sitting on the counter surrounded by broken eggs, spilled milk, and flour.

Sarah's sleep-deprived mind suddenly remembered the events from the previous night. And now Herald was in her kitchen, cooking. Or at least attempting to cook.

"Oh, shit," Sarah said.

Herald heard the sound of her voice and his face spilt into a large grin. "Queen! Look, Herald made breakfast!" He waved around a wooden spoon in his left hand, sending a yellow substance splattering onto the cabinets.

"Herald, what exactly are you making?"

"Pancakes!" he said proudly, and Sarah groaned. The mix sitting on the counter looked like anything but pancake batter. In fact, it looked as though it was going to jump out of the mixing bowl and run across the counter at any moment.

"Herald," Sarah began slowly. "You can't be down here, remember? No one is allowed to see you."

Herald's grin disappeared, and he looked crestfallen. "Not even the Prince?"

Does he mean Toby? Sarah wasn't sure, but she answered anyway. "No, not even the Prince." Upon seeing Herald's dejected face, she added, "But why don't we cook a couple pancakes before he gets up?"

Herald grinned broadly again and poured some of the lumpy batter in a pan on the stove.

Sarah shook her head and then wandered over to one of the cabinets in search of coffee. It took her a couple minutes to find the coffee she was looking for, and then she turned back to look at Herald with the coffee can in her hand.

The goblin was sitting on the counter, blissfully eating what was left of the batter. And the glob of a pancake he poured in the pan was on fire.

"Herald!" Sarah cried.

The goblin suddenly snapped out of his revive and looked around for the source of the problem.

"FIRE!" he yelled, dropping the mixing bowl and running away across the counter.

"Put it out! Put it out!" Sarah screamed. She ran across the kitchen and grabbed the nozzle from the sink. She desperately tried to spray the flames but only succeeded in drenching the floor. Herald was still yelling.

"Shit, shit, shit!" Sarah cursed.

The smoke alarm started blaring and the sprinklers went off. The fire was put out in a matter of seconds, and Sarah was soaked.

There were the sounds of screaming and running upstairs.

Sarah scorched Herald with her best you-are-so-dead look, and he cowered in terror.

"Robert!" Karen called from her bedroom. Robert was Sarah's father's name. "Don't worry! I have the escape ladder! Where's Toby? TOBY!"

"Herald," Sarah gritted out. Her voice was soft and dangerous, but Herald still heard her over the sound of the alarm. "Hide." The last thing she needed that morning was for someone to see the little goblin.

And then she stalked out of the kitchen.

The Williams family stood outside their home, each one drenched and very irritable.

Karen and Robert were pissed at Sarah for "starting the fire." Sarah was pissed at being blamed for starting the fire and at Herald and his pancakes. Toby, on the other hand, was having the time of his life. He was waving animatedly to the firefighters and police as they drove away down the street. The neon colored escape ladder still hung from the window of the master bedroom.

"That was so AWESOME, Sarah!" exclaimed Toby. "What did you do?"

Sarah glared at her brother, while Karen asked, "Yes, Sarah, what did you do?"

"I was making breakfast." Anger colored her tone.

Sarah's dad sighed, exasperated. "I thought you took a home education class in school?" he asked.

"I guess it didn't help," she retorted.

"Obviously not." Karen looked pointedly at the retreating fire truck.

"I'm going to my room," Sarah said as she stalked back inside the house. All of the rooms were soaked and there was now a dark stain on the stove where the fire had been. The pan the batter had been in was now destroyed.

Sarah trudged up the stairs and closed the bedroom door behind her.

Herald sat on her bed with his ears pressed flat against his head.

Sarah's emerald green eyes were hard and merciless. "No. More. Pancakes."

Jareth sat on his throne with one leg draped over the edge. He tapped his ridding crop idly against his leg and considered drawing up another crystal.

No, he thought. He had already seen her that night, when she had been telling her story to her brother.

What was he thinking? He was a King – he had duties to attend to. The gods knew this kingdom was already enough mess as it is without him slacking off. He shouldn't be thinking about her.

Just then a goblin came running into the throne room, waving a letter over its head.

"Sire, sire! Letter from the Queen!" it yelled. The creature stood in front of the throne still clutching the letter.

"Well?" Jareth asked impatiently. The goblins stood stock-still. "Give it here," he ordered, holding out his hand.

The goblin immediately rushed forward with the letter held out, and promptly tripped over its own feet, and the letter crumpled underneath it as the goblin fell.

Jareth tapped his foot as he waited for the goblin to pick itself up. The goblin eyed its King's feet warily as it handed him the letter and then scurried out of range of the King's kicking boots.

Jareth nearly ripped the letter in his haste to open it.

Goblin King. That wasn't a good start. She never called him 'Goblin King' unless she was really mad about something. That 'guardian' you sent to my room last night has nearly managed to burn my house down! You will pay for the damage he caused. –S

Jareth stared blankly at the note for a minute and read it again. Then he began to laugh. Oh, how he pitied that poor goblin who would now face the wrath of Sarah Williams. He considered re-ordering time just to watch the incident with the fire himself.

The goblins in the throne room were staring, confused, at their King.

"Well?" Jareth asked. He was met with blank looks. "Laugh," he ordered. They did.

The King then drew up a crystal and looked into it to see Sarah yelling at the goblin. Then she paused. Her next words sounded like she barely had her emotions under control. "Herald," she said. "What are you wearing?"

Sarah hadn't noticed what the little goblin had been wearing that morning when he was cooking. His pillowcase from the previous night (the pillowcase she had found in her dresser that morning) was now replaced with a satin, dark blue garb. "Is that my shirt?"

No, Jareth thought. It was your shirt, precious.

The goblin seemed to sense the immediate danger and jumped off the bed and ran to the mirror with a terrified squeal. Sarah let him go and stood, rigid, staring at the spot where Herald had been moments before.

Jareth laughed again and threw up the crystal. That goblin was in for a whole hell of a lot of trouble.

Okay, well this took my slightly longer to update than I originally planned… whoops. This chapter is really just completely random and pure fun. I'm still not quite sure how making pancakes fits in with my nonexistent-plot though… Hope you enjoyed it anyway!

So, on a different note that is not related to this story: all you Bowie fans who have not already seen the movie Bandslam must see it just to see David for about a grand total of a minute. That literally made my night (and proved just how sad my life is…).

Anyways, please review! It will only take a minute :) If you find any mistakes in this chapter, please let me know. And thank you to everyone who reviewed and read the first chapter!