Disclaimer: I own Ronald, and that's about it.

Her visit with Hoggle ended up lasting about a week; she hadn't realized how much she had missed him and the others. Even if only a few days had technically passed since she'd seen them. They chatted; she helped kill faeries. It was good. Then she'd gone to seen Ludo for three days and Sir Didymus for another two, on her way back to the castle. They were all doing well, and other than crowning Hoggle Prince of the Bog, the Goblin King hadn't punished them for helping her.

But with only two days left, she needed to get back to business. The West Wing. She'd been here before when she'd been looking for the kitchen her first day. Jareth hadn't been too terribly pleased then, and she couldn't help but wonder if he would buy that she had gotten lost...again. Probably not. Here's to hoping he kept his promise to leave her alone. Also unlikely. But hey, a girl can dream, right?

The ticking of that horrible cuckoo clock grew louder, and good grief but the thing was as freaky as she remembered. Normally, she'd say that owls are adorable and should be used liberally in room decor. But this abomination should be bogged immediately.

But at least it marked where she needed to resume her search. The previous rooms hid no kitchen and no books that she could recall. One had been completely empty; the rest had been filled with masks and costumes and sheet-covered furniture and other oddities. The hallway stretched a few more rooms down before turning to the left where presumably more rooms awaited. Sarah huffed as she pushed open the next door. It finally gave and she almost fell to floor or rather, eyeballs. Thousands of eyeballs, still blinking and attached to eyestalks, covered the room. Glancing around for another door and seeing none, she slammed the door and moved on. She just didn't want to know at this point.

Trying the next room, she found more masks and costumes awkwardly standing in neat rows across the room. With magic, Sarah mused, who needs hangers? The remaining three rooms yielded no books either nor anything exceptionally out of the ordinary. So she turned down the next hallway. Ten rooms down this hall and another turn to the left. Maybe checking this whole place room by room wasn't the best plan. Because this was going to take for-ever. All the doors looked the same down this hall - brown wood with a brass doorknob. The next hallway offered more of the same, but this time stairs turned to left. Glancing one last time at the unchecked doors, she bit her lip but walked up to the next floor. A window - or rather a hole in the stone wall - greeted her. Enjoying the breath of fresh air, she walked past the plain doors and took the next turn upstairs.

Another window showed her how high up she was, towering over the goblins' village below. She must be on the top floor by now. Facing the hallway once more, she noticed that there were no doors this time. Her breath caught in her throat as she stepped across the stone floor, and she would be ever so grateful if it were really this easy. She turned the corner and the sight of the gilded door caused her to release her breath. Was Jareth really that stupid?

She pushed down the gold handle and swung the door open. Rugs adorned the floor; bookshelves lined the walls to the left and right. A desk near the end of the room drew the whole room together. Three large windows, with glass panes and everything, allowed so much light in, the room was downright inviting. It was beautiful. Not to mention, filled with books.

Once she double-checked that the room was, in fact, empty of any living thing (from eyeballs to Goblin Kings), she started scanning the shelves for any helpful material. Most didn't even have the title on the spine. All were hand-written, spouting interesting but unhelpful tidbits about Labyrinth history in an oddly neat scrawl. So far she found no order to the first shelf. Certainly not alphabetized by title. She couldn't find any author's name anywhere, but she didn't even know who had written about the Queen so that wouldn't have been much help anyway. The next shelf bore more interesting tidbits about chickens and goblin hygiene (small book) and proper ball procedures.

A cough interrupted her reading.

She whirled around - just please don't be Jareth - and saw no one. Only the door, slightly ajar.

"Down here, Miss. Sorry to intrude."

It was a dwarf. "No worries. Who're you?"

"Many pardons," A polite dwarf, no less. That was odd. "My name is Ronald Ruel, the Dwarf of Scribe." He bowed. (He freaking bowed.)

"Pleased to meet you," Oh good grief, she curtsied. Hadn't she outgrown all this? "My name is Sarah."

He trilled. "Oh, goodness gracious me! I know who you are, Your Majesty." He waddled forward and gestured to the shelves. "Is there anything in particular you are looking for?"

Sarah smiled. "Why, yes. Yes, there is."

Jareth sat on his throne and sulked. A dignified sulk but sulking just the same. Perhaps promising a whole fortnight had been a tad much. Surely twelve days was enough to "figure things out." He raised his head from leaning against his fist propped up on the throne's armrest. She never said he couldn't spy on her, per se. He pulled one of his crystals from thin air and spun it around, the magical item blurred to life with Sarah's image.

Wait.

He held the orb in his hand. Tapped it against the smoothed stone armrest.

Surely this wasn't right.

He found her curled up in Ronald's chair, reading a book. She didn't even notice the glitter he specifically dropped into her lap.

"I hope I'm not disturbing you." His voice sounded a touch snider than he'd intended. But well. She'd made him leave her alone for days after days after days so she could just read. That was just insulting.

Sarah glanced up. "Oh, hey, Jareth." And resumed reading.

He snapped the book shut and floated it back on the shelf. "What exactly are you doing here?" He turned to the nearby dwarf. "And why didn't you inform me of her misconduct?"

Ronald Ruel raised an eyebrow. "Beg pardon, sir. I did not realize her Majesty was not allowed here."

"Well, now you know," He'd have bogged the scribe ages ago except he was the only creature around here with enough of an education to write legibly. And the dwarf knew it too. "If you'll excuse us."

The dwarf looked to Sarah, who nodded her permission (the brat! both of them!), before shuffling out of the room. He turned back to face her, repeating his query. "What are you doing here?"

"Some research," She chirped immediately, daring to smile at him too. It was distracting. "Did you know that if you allow someone who has beaten your Labyrinth to stay, she automatically becomes Queen?"

"Yes, for as long as she stays here." This was probably a Bad Thing.

"You knew that I would gain magic, but you still let me stay?"

"Yes," He wasn't sure how but definitely bad.

"So, as Queen, I should be allowed to return home," Her grin stretched wide.

Oh, this he could deal with. Never mind. "Er, no," His pointed teeth showed slightly behind his smirk. "Not unless you want me to retrieve Toby."

She pouted at him. "No, I don't want that. But I do have some power as Queen, don't I?"

"More than I anticipated," He admitted, purposefully leaning over her. "But I'm still stronger, of course."

"But surely you'd agree that a Queen cannot be a slave?"

That snapped him backwards. Upright. Proper. "So. You want to shirk your duties?"

"Not at all! Especially now that I have help," She waved her hand over the floor, and his glitter melted into nothing. "But I would quite prefer a partnership over servitude. Especially considering my stay is, so far, a permanent one."

"Hmm, I suppose that makes sense," He titled his head to the right. "You still have to cook though."

She smiled up at him again. Knowing what he was doing. "That sounds reasonable." And letting him get away with it.

He wasn't used to this. He offered his arm. "Shall we then?"

She took his arm and nodded, grinning impishly as she transported them out first.

He returned that evening after Sarah retired to bed. Opening the door, he removed the glamour of an empty room, revealing a cozy bedroom. A short table with blocks. A tiny bookshelf filled with board books. And the crib, with a baby boy softly cooing himself to sleep inside.

His secret was safe.