A.N.: Fun bit of trivia: one of the first scenes I jotted down while planning this fic is in this chapter. I guess points if you can pick which one it is? I have no clue...

Also, everyone always talks about the chickens that wander the Labyrinth, but no one ever brings up the pig in armor that shows up right before "Magic Dance!" I love that pig in armor! Consider him included.

Jetredgirl: Aww, thank you!

Ellen Weaver: I so love your description of Jareth; the novelization does discuss his hatred of chaos, so I think your analysis is right on the nose. If only Sarah would go along with all his lovely little plans. Writing older Sarah is fun in a way that I don't get to experience with younger, more innocent versions of herself: she's an adult, she can handle things in a calm, adult way and not freak out like a more childish person might. In that way, she's an excellent foil to Jareth, and it's great getting to write a collected, confident person. Sarah's "comfort" with the situation will be discussed more in-depth in this chapter, though, and I think there will still be plenty of tension. They aren't out of the woods yet. And darn, I just made him a normal dog...

Mauradergurl2010: I promise more Toby at the end of the chapter! He's going to be so hellishly fun to stick in now and again until it's his turn to shine.

Comical Freaka: Thank you!

GodlyJewel: It's probably among the tamer "M" scenes they'll have going on (consider this an official warning for the chapter after this one), but we shouldn't ever stray into pornographic territory. It's not aff over here! Men everywhere, take note: can't go wrong with giving a girl a puppy.

…

See you there, don't know where you come from

Unaware of the stare from someone

Don't appear to care that I saw you

And I want you.

"Say When," The Fray"

…

He was trying to keep her there.

Sarah hadn't noticed it so much at first. She had thought maybe Jareth was respecting her, learning about her, when things had changed between them. He'd given her this room, after all. He was quite open with her wandering the Castle, and the goblins were...oddly sweet. Mostly they kept their distance, but if she spoke to them, they answered back as best they could. Wog was her particular companion, the wrinkly faced creature happy to give her a tour through the halls; the Library had been her favorite spot. She had been directed by a strange goblin, one that could speak in full sentences and more or less managed to dress himself, to one book that she had thought was entirely blank – until she thought of what she might like to read, at which point the pages filled with text. It was downright magical. For a time, Sarah was happy.

That damn Goblin King made himself absolutely charming while Sarah transitioned into life in a fairytale castle. He ordered fine dinners for them in the grand dining hall, music played without any seeming source. Sarah thought once he had wanted to ask her for another dance, but he hadn't, and she was almost disappointed. And at night, God...When Sarah thought back to nights in his room, she had to close her eyes and pause for a moment. Jareth was...intense. She was an adult, she'd had sexual relationships before. The Goblin King was threatening to blow all previous competition right out of the water. If she were being totally honest, she liked the sex. A lot.

But she should have noticed right away, that possessive glint in his strange eyes, the way his hand would tighten at her waist when he guided her from one place to the next. It should have been particularly obvious when she'd appeared at his chamber door holding the hound pup, Tristan. "Not in here, love." His voice had been gentle, and it was gently that he pulled the puppy from her hands and set him on the floor of the hallway.

"He's a baby!" Sarah protested as her loyal dog cried at her feet. "He needs to be with people right now."

"He'll be fine in the hallway for one night. Better he learns the rules now."

"What rules?"

"This is the King's Suite." His voice was low and soft as he took her open, empty hands and lightly pulled her into the bedroom – and shut the door on the whining puppy dog. "It's for no one but the King and Queen. No dogs, few servants – not even our future children will disrupt us here. It's for you and I."

That should have been enough to wake her out of her grief-and-awe muddled senses. It was almost creepy (well, totally creepy), talking about future children, of her as a Queen, when she still said no to his proposals. She could really be quite dense sometimes, Sarah upbraided herself.

He wanted to own her.

Sarah Williams was not a girl to be owned – to be ruled. The Goblin King, above all people, should have figured that out long before.

So while Jareth's charms grew even greater as the days passed, Sarah's enjoyment of them dimmed considerably, and all the time. In fact, she was beginning to resent them. She began to push at him, in little ways. "Where are my old friends?" she'd asked him as he spent the lunch hour in her set of rooms. "I haven't seen Hoggle and Sir Didymus since I left the Aboveground. I want to go out and visit them."

"All in due time, my sweet," he assured her, and followed it with, "Look at the present I have for you today, hm?" Each day he brought more and more lavish gifts: perfumes as delicate and rich as pearls one night; a necklace of flawless diamonds the size and color of robin's eggs another. If he thought he could pay her off with such paltry gifts, he really was a fool. Jareth would attempt jokes. "When will you make an honest man out of me and be my wife, you brazen creature?" She laughed, but it made her all the more wary.

Well, no more of that. More than a week of digging in the library had gotten her a map of the Goblin Kingdom (though it was little use for the Labyrinth, as the walls kept shifting all the time, even on the paper), and even one of the Goblin City. She'd put on the trousers she'd stolen from Jareth's closet and had Wog show her the way out the Castle doors.

It was high time for adventure.

…

"Sawah?"

"My lady!"

Sarah had never had a great sense of direction – that had made her trip through the Labyrinth that much more challenging – but perhaps it was a part of growing up or living in New York, but she had no trouble finding her friends whatsoever. It was like the most natural thing in the world, it felt like the perfect extension of herself; she knew what she wanted to find, though not how to find it, and that alone had been enough to act like a guiding star to send her straight to her childhood friends. Without hesitation, Sarah threw herself into Ludo's massive, hairy, dangling arms. He smelled a bit of mold and dog and earth and magic, just like he had whenever he managed to step through the mirror into her apartment in Hell's Kitchen. "Ludo, I've missed you!"

"Sawah back!"

"Sarah?" Alerted by the noise, around the bend came Hoggle, wielding a pair of pruning sheers. He nearly went white was a ghost at the sight of the woman. "Sarah, are you out of your head! Jareth will know you're in the Labyrinth, we have to get you back as soon as-"

"Hoggle." Sarah extradited herself from Ludo's grip, going on her knees before her oldest and dearest friend. "He already knows I'm here."

"What!" The poor dwarf looked nearly apoplectic. "And what is that getup you're in!"

"Friend Hoggle is right, dear lady!" Sir Didymus interjected by her hand, waving his staff in his excited agitation. "It is quite unsafe for you in this world, and we have been most concerned for you!"

"That's right! Where have you been!" Hoggle was still scolding, dropping his pruning sheers and looking the girl over. "We went to your mirror. Them brownies just kept nattering on that you'd gone – wouldn't say where, wouldn't say a word! Your things were all packed up as well!"

"Right," she sighed, running her free hand through the mess of her dark hair. "That does require a bit of an explanation..." Sarah had always been a good storyteller, it was an innate part of her, something that served her well in the theater. Her three friends sat in gracious silence, hearing her tale and digesting it in their own unique ways.

Didymus was the first to speak, as he often was. "If it was to save Sir Toby, my lady, naught else could be done!"

"Horse feathers." Hoggle shook his large head; it was just like Sarah to plunge ahead into things without thinking the consequences through. "You've plum lost your sense, you have."

"Maybe," Sarah admitted with a weak smile. "But what's said is said, right? I'm here now...A-and look on the bright side! I'll be able to spend time with you all!"

"Jareth will never go for that," the gardener disagreed once more. "Send us all straight back to the Bog he will."

"I don't care what Jareth goes for." Sarah's green eyes were alive with the determined fire her fairytale friends knew just all too well. "Whatever he says, he's not the boss of me, and he can go stuff it. We're friends – and we're sticking together."

"Hear, hear!"

"Sawah fwend." Ludo draped his large arms around her shoulders and Sarah just leaned back into his great, auburn mass of fluff, smiling at Hoggle all the while. The dwarf looked decidedly uneasy. But then again, there was no stopping Sarah Williams; when she decided something, then it was decided.

…

It was difficult to hide a rock caller the size of Ludo. He wasn't exactly subtle. And even when told to hush, Sir Didymus could be quite the talker. It didn't take long for His Majesty to find out who, exactly, the woman was entertaining in her suite while he was away running the Kingdom.

"Sarah, if that beast ever sets foot inside my Castle again, I will make a rug out of it, and then I will take you on that rug!"

"You do that, and I'll cut off all this hair you love so much; I'll throw every jewel you've ever given me into the Bog of Eternal Stench; and then so help me God, I'll figure out a way to kill myself!"

That gave him some pause. Only the Goblin King could look bemused – maybe even happy – when Sarah won their arguments of one-up-man-ship. "Oh, not your hair, precious thing," he cooed, running a glossy lock between his gloved fingers. "That would truly be too great a waste."

"Ugh! Trust you to focus on what's important!" Sarah batted at his hand, wheeling to stomp away from him. Jareth did not drop his amused, lazy smile. "Ludo is my friend," she was continuing, turning back to him and arms crossed, her pretty red mouth set in a scowl that perfectly offset his own indolent smirk. "I live here, he should be able to come and see me here. Moreover, maybe you could have a little sympathy while I adjust to a totally new life!"

That did make him bristle. "No one," he hissed, sliding up very close to her, so that he could look down into her green gaze, which wavered slightly. "Could be more generous than I have been with you."

...this one wasn't worth the fight. The motion may or may not have been sincere, but Sarah dropped her eyes, which did quite a great deal to mollify him. "You're right," she replied quietly.

"Well now...was that really so hard?"

She glanced up at him, red lips slightly pursed. "Don't push your luck."

"But I so long to see just how grateful you are..."

"Let's cut to the point, Jareth," Sarah hissed slightly, refusing to be drawn in by his seductive tones this time. "All these proposals of yours – what are they really about? You haven't changed since I left the Labyrinth. You're still trying to rule me."

"Of course I am." The gall of that man, he didn't even flinch away from her accusations. No, Jareth stood in her bedroom and continued to play with her dark hair with rapturous fascination. The pup Tristan lay on a pillow in the corner, sleepily ignoring the scene; he was now quite used to the strange man who came to visit his mistress. "Did you think I would not? It is only the great that is worth conquering; you and your fire, your strength...were I to best you, what a prize that would be."

Jareth moved to pull her into his arms, to kiss her, but Sarah put her hands up as a wedge between them and was just able to turn away. "I wouldn't let you do that."

The Goblin King snorted slightly, vaguely amused and irritated simultaneously. "It wouldn't be much of a conquest if you did."

"Let's say you win, what then?"

"Then I stand as the happiest man alive, don't I?" The King was sighing, adjusting the way his leather gloves fit around his hand. "I will be powerful, with a beautiful woman who is devoted to me. Who wouldn't want that?"

"I would bore you if I were conquered, I'd be nothing like I am."

"Not true." He must have been offended, maybe even frightened by this – for his hand shot out and his fingers held her chin in an almost bruising grip. Sarah struggled briefly before she listened. "I said conquer, I did not say break. I am not the monster you seem to think me."

"Uh, you just threatened to turn Ludo into a rug. And what, you mean you'd be alright with me as your equal?"

"Well, nearly so. You are a girl, after all."

"I am going to find a way to knee you in the junk, I swear I am."

"Sarah." He cooed and turned her quickly, so that his arms could wrap around her torso. "Don't do that. It hurts you as well as it hurts me, since I'd be unable to perform for you – wouldn't that be tragic?"

She struggled against his arms. "It's not funny, Jareth, let go."

He did not, and in fact, his grip around her only tightened, and his thin mouth bent to the level of her ear. "I will not share you, Sarah Williams," he whispered fiercely in her ear. "I won you, I saved you, not your precious little..." He nearly spat the next word, "Friends. I have you for all eternity, and I will win you."

Sarah stiffened at first, but then had the wisdom to relax into his arms. She felt the tension leave his muscles, and she inwardly smiled. He was so simple, when it came straight down to the matter. "I'm not a prize."

"You are the greatest prize. You ought to have learned by now what a stubborn man I can be."

"I can be stubborn, too, you know."

"Believe me, I do."

Sarah turned her head over her shoulder, so that she could just see the edge of his face; the sharp point of his nose and the wild, possessive glint in his strange eyes. So dangerous and so beautiful. Damn, had she learned nothing in her thirteen years away from him? "Jareth-"

"Majesty!" There was someone at the door – and not a goblin, so that certainly narrowed down the possibilities. The face Sarah recognized; sharp, with deeply set eyes and thick, red hair. That steward fellow, then. He came to a bit of a startled halt to see his monarch with his arms around a mortal woman.

Jareth simply raised an eyebrow. "Balgaire. I thought I made it plain I was not to be interrupted."

The smaller man stammered slightly. "A thousand apologies, Your Majesty, but the little beasts have broken into the portrait hall again and don't listen to a word I say-"

He did not get a chance to finish his pleas for assistance from his master, but equally true, Jareth did not have time to upbraid him. The pup Tristan had picked his head up from his soft pillow, at first blinking sleepy brown eyes and sniffing the air – before he leaped to his petite paws and began barking fit to rouse the hunt. His little howl was high pitched and, to Sarah's mind, quite adorable, but the tiny thing charged forward with all the gusto of an older, experienced hound.

Before his mistress could react to him, however, Tristan had made for the steward's polished black boots. The smaller man gave a hiss that was enough to curdle the woman's blood, and right before her eyes, he seemed to leap into the air. Those black boots became black tipped paws, the white of his shirt an apron of snowy white fur. And that thick auburn hair of his? It dusted the man – well, former man – all over, and from Sarah's room ran a fox; a fox with three tails, hightailing it down the hall with a high pitched wail of distress, while the puppy gave enthusiastic and deadly serious chase. She looked straight up at Jareth, who seemed bemused by the scene that had just unfolded before him. "Did you see...he was a-!"

The King released the young woman, still with that terrible, crooked smile. "Yes, quite."

"How...what is he!"

"Ah, Balgaire is a..." The Goblin King seemed genuinely thoughtful. "His type of magic is difficult to translate. The easiest analogy I can think of is the kitsune, from Japanese lore."

Sarah stuck her head out the door, still hearing the yipping of her puppy echoing against the stones. "He's a stuck up prick, but that's incredible!"

"Incredible?" Jareth pulled her back by the hips. "You've never described my magics as such, and I can assure you, they are far more powerful."

Miss Williams just rolled her eyes. "I am not dealing with your petty jealousy today, got it? That means no threatening to skin my friends, no nothing."

His eyes flashed. "Until you are my wife, I don't see how you can claim to give any orders."

"You," she jabbed a finger into his chest, "have a gallery to save. I have to go fetch my dog before he chews on your steward."

Jareth waved his hand dismissively. "Balgaire is no kit, he has teeth and claws well up to your fluffy knight."

"That makes it worse!"

He kissed her over her protests and blinked away. "Find me in the Throne Room and we can discuss whose magic is incredible."

…

It took pockets full of biscuits pulled from the Castle kitchens and close to an hour to call Tristan back. The pup was still learning commands, and was easily distracted with his overabundant enthusiasm. There was no sign of Balgaire, but frankly, Sarah found that to be a relief. It was fairly obvious to her that the steward didn't like her, though his reasons against her seemed fairly snobbish. But was it because she was a human, or was it because she was sleeping with the King? She'd rather hear Balgaire was a racist than find out he saw her as some kind of...some kind of s-

Sarah's self-flagellating thoughts were interrupted by a bang from down the long, stone corridor. Tristan wiggled in her grasp, but Sarah was too curious, she had always had an inquisitive nature; and so, without a second thought, she stepped cautiously down the hall, head high, eyes gleaming with interest. The sound was coming from the huge, carved doors to the Throne Room. Jareth had said to find him here, and it sounded like wild, raucous music was coming from inside. Was this what he had in mind, to show off his magic with art? Without hesitation, Sarah pushed the heavy door open.

Her jaw just about hit the ground: goblins, everywhere, were dancing and singing wildly. They threw each other about the room with reckless abandon, and seemed to be lost in fits of absolute joy. And who was in the middle of it, perched idly on one curved arm of his throne, but the Goblin King, of course? His voice was clear and robust over the din, the leader of this bunch of insanity – or rather, he actually seemed to be the one keeping it in some form of control. Music to soothe the savage beast? From what Sarah could tell, it was a nonsense song, something about dancing, but the goblins took to it with enthusiasm, singing and stopping in perfect timing to their monarch's musical cues. For some reason, what amazed her the most was the guitar set across his knee, and the way his fingers, clad in skin-tight leather, strummed the strings with idle but practiced movements. It really felt like there was magic in the music.

The magic, however, came to an abrupt halt as his mismatched eyes caught hers over the chaos all around them. His hand almost faltered on the guitar, but he brought the song to a rousing conclusion. Goblins fell in heaps about the Throne Room, tongues lolling on the ground, spent with their excitement of the day. Their King stood and the guitar vanished in a puff of glittering smoke from his elegant hands. "Right." He kicked a few of the little beasts out of his path as he descended from the throne, nearer to Sarah by the door. "There will be no more nonsense in the portrait gallery, or there will be no more songs. Are we clear?"

"Majesty!" They whined. It seemed a greater threat to them than the Bog of Eternal Stench. Sarah found it almost...cute. "Please, no take away songs!"

"One more, one more!"

"I am your King, not your performing monkey. Out, all of you." They still whined piteously, but dragged themselves from the room, humming snatches of the tune or prancing excitedly with their companions. Sarah watched them all go; she'd never seen goblins looking so...mollified. They were even carrying their many black hens from the Throne Room and one led a small, black pig in goblin armor on a chain leash. She didn't have time to watch more closely, however, for she could feel Jareth's stare boring into her. Almost hesitantly, her eyes met his. "Well?" he demanded, hands tucked behind him at the small of his back.

Sarah set Tristan down and copied the movement. "Well?"

Jareth did not look amused. "I'm sure you have something to say, you always do."

The girl blinked. "You told me to meet you here."

"That is not what I was referring to, and you bloody well know it."

"No, I don't!" Sarah paused a moment – before a wonderful grin spread across her lovely face. "Don't tell me you're shy about your music, Jareth."

The King bristled. "I refuse to be teased."

"Is that how you keep the goblins in line? With music?"

"Sometimes." His voice was a hiss, his eyes narrowed. "They're simple little cretins; usually when they're making mischief, it means they require occupation."

Sarah tried to suppress her smile, but failed. She straightened her back a little and replied, "Well, I think it's adorable."

The Goblin King was not soothed by this, and he stalked closer to her. "That comment is close enough to mocking for me to be well within my rights to shove you deep into an oubliette."

Sarah just put her hands at her hips. "Were you going to wow me with your magic or just snarl at me? I didn't know this was a private event. You didn't have a 'Keep Out,' sign."

Jareth blinked at her a moment before a grin spread across his features. "Oh, I had nearly forgotten. How sweet of you to remind me, precious thing."

"Yeah, well, apparently not."

"I have a gift for you." Very few words were as likely to set off Sarah's sense of panic as those, and she nearly stumbled backwards out of the door, but was stopped by Jareth's outstretched hand, something bright and red balanced on his fingertips.

"...is that a strawberry?"

His thin lips were pulled back in a crooked smile, just showing off the sharp edges of his teeth. "Indeed it is."

"Jareth, I'm not sure if you understand this, but I'm a little reluctant to take fruit from you – especially here."

"Ah, the location bothers you?" She swore he hadn't moved a muscle, but the world bled and dripped around them like running paint, and Sarah's head swam as she found her surroundings re-materialize into – oh, for Heaven's sake, his bedroom.

Sarah fixed him with a hard look. "You realize this does not make me feel better, right? I meant I didn't like taking fruit from you in the Underground at all."

"There's no danger here," he assured her with a sly, victorious grin. "No time limit, nothing to hurt you, nothing to fight against. I'm just showing off for you – in simple ways, ones that are...easy to digest."

"Wow, you actually put thought into this."

"Indeed I did, my precious thing." Before Sarah could say another word, he'd taken a definitive step forward, blocking her with his body. He leaned forward and she tried to lean away, but all that accomplished was a loss of her balance, and she plopped back right onto the bed. As soon as Sarah's lips parted in annoyed protest, he pressed the strawberry against her teeth and let it bleed its juices into her mouth – which he followed with a kiss.

She wasn't sure if the bite was too little, or maybe the fruit was too small, or maybe he just wasn't trying to drug her so heavily as he had with the peach, but the swimming feeling in her head wasn't so bad this time. Oh, the vision of his face before her danced and shimmered and was just as disorienting, but she didn't find herself trapped in a crystal dream. No, she merely closed her eyes for a moment, and saw clouds of glorious and glittering white. Birds fluttered past her at an impossible height, and dear God, she was flying! She could feel the wind in her hair, the cool freedom of the atmosphere around her. Was this what it was like for Jareth as an owl? It was thrilling, it was exhilarating, it was-

Over. Sarah opened her eyes, but other than a slight throb at her temples...everything was normal. She wasn't in some sugar-spun dress, she wasn't lost in junk heaps – she even still had her memory. And Jareth was smiling at her. "Do you think Balgaire could compress such a vision into a single strawberry for your amusement?"

Sarah rubbed at her head and gave him a bit of a cold look. "Are you seriously this sensitive?"

"Poor little sprout." The Goblin King kissed her temple. "Not having magic of your own, I suppose this will be a bit strenuous for you. But I promise you won't be hurt. Here, try this one." He was holding up a perfectly round, smooth, bright green grape to her – but Sarah shook her head.

"I got the picture."

"Oh, please?" His thin mouth actually managed to pout – but it was less endearing and more devious on him. "I did put such work into these."

"Jareth, I-" That goddamn bastard, he just popped it into her mouth all over again! Sarah felt the skin break against her teeth, felt the overly sweet juice pool on her tongue; this time her head hit the pillow with the intensity of the magic. Dark, the world was dark. Giant trees loomed overhead and blocked out the light of the moon – but that didn't matter, because she had eyes to see through the darkness, to catch the faintest glimmer and the dimmest shadow. Her body didn't move like a human body, perhaps because it was not, and she could feel every pump of her heart, every stretch of her muscles. And it felt wonderful. Deliciously free, she could feel the warm wind of the night streaming through her hair, wild and lonely and liberating. Oh, but not alone...as she moved through these wondrous trees of darkness, she could see another shadow join her, feel its heat. A partner in an ancient dance, she could just make out its shape. A challenger as well as a protector, an opponent and a mate. If he wanted to win her, he would have to be swift, be deadly, be strong-

Sarah groaned, her eyes wincing as the candlelight hit them this time. "I get it, you're amazing, but my head is killing me." What kind of a vision was that, anyway? Some prototypical start of the world, something about how magic was made? She didn't get it, and right then, she didn't want to get it – at least, until she noticed Jareth was leaning over her, his eyes focused on her face and breathing heavy. Was he seeing these as well? Whatever he'd gotten of the vision, it seemed to affect him far more deeply, for he was stroking his palm along the curve of her cheek.

"Just one more, and I promise you'll sleep after. But I saved the best for last – a real dream, a true one."

"What do you mean, a true one..."

"Those were just little fancies...stray bits of magic pulled from the atmosphere, things that can be, or were, or are. This one...this one will show you what you desire most."

Sarah shook her head. "What I desire most is some Tylenol."

"Sarah." He said her name with such intensity that she had to look, had to see him twist his hand and-

"No." Her lips were sealed, and she was absolutely adamant. "For your information, I hate peaches."

"A little bite," he purred, dancing the fruit across his fingers. "I've already promised that this one will be nice, won't it? Think of all the things you could see...all the things you want."

"What if what I want, I can't have?"

"Then at least you'd have this."

Sarah was going to keep arguing with him – that yes, thank you, she understood he was just so freaking magical and she wouldn't say anything but compliments of him and his skills ever again – but she had a thought. A rather clever, even genius thought. Without a word of warning, her legs wrapped and locked around his slender hips and she twisted so that his balance was thrown and he landed on his side. Before the Goblin King could snarl or protest or purr, the woman was atop him, stroking her fingers through his silky hair. His eyes half closed and she pulled the peach from his fingers, dangling it in her own. "No trapping me in my dreams this time?"

Jareth was panting, his lips parted with desire. "You have my vow – why settle for a dream when I have you here, hm?"

"You make an excellent point..." Sarah ran the soft fuzz of the fruit against her glossy lower lip, moving her hips slightly against the Goblin King; she almost grinned at the helpless moan that escaped his throat. "Hmm...dreams without consequences?"

"Well..." He leaned his hips into her, let her feel his interest. The girl raised an eyebrow at him. "You'll be faced with what you truly want, but that can be a blessing, don't you think?"

"Oh, totally..." Sarah leaned forward so that he was afforded a tantalizing view down the cut top of her bodice. He was growing more heated beneath her. "I can think of all kinds of things I want...but you, Goblin King? You're so mysterious..."

Jareth was growling, reaching out a hand to pull her harder against him, but she knocked his arms away. "I would think I was being quite clear."

"Oh, this is what you want right now...but what could you possibly want with me forever, hm? You've never really been forthright on that..."

"Take a bite, and then we can have a long discussion on it."

"Really? Well..." Her lips parted, her white teeth just touched the skin of the fruit. Jareth leaned forward, mouth open in anticipation.

Sarah grinned and shoved it fully into his open mouth, watched the skin tear against the sharp point of his teeth and saw him bite down out of defensive reflex. The King made a kind of protesting, strangled noise, but the lump of fruit had already quickly made it past his tongue. He was glaring even as Sarah kept beaming in perverse triumph – but his hot looks didn't last for long. In half a moment, she watched those dozy eyes of his close and saw his head hit the pillow with a soft, "whump."

"Hmph." Miss Williams slid off her lover's prone torso, watched the even swell of his chest as he breathed peacefully in slumber. "About time you got a serious taste of your own medicine, Goblin King." An evening free of Jareth's possessive B.S., without him trying to buy her with gifts or growl about how he didn't like her friends. It would be a positive delight.

The young woman had nearly skipped to the bedroom door, quite pleased with her little victory over the oh-so-tricky Goblin King – but her hand hesitated as soon as she touched the door jamb. Without quite knowing why, she rotated on her heels a little and watched his quiet figure in the massive bed. As deadly and certain as Jareth was, he almost manage to look innocent while he was asleep – but only almost. Sarah had never woken in the night to watch him beside her, she didn't think their relationship had reached that level of intimacy yet. But it somehow felt wrong to drug him and then leave him alone – not that he didn't thoroughly deserve it. But...well, she was better than that, wasn't she?

Sarah took a few small, almost hesitant steps closer to her fallen foe and just looked at his pale, peaceful face. A glimmer of peach juice still clung to his lower lip, and if she'd been stupider or more romantic, she might have kissed it off. But she'd had quite enough of trippy dreams for one night, so that was right out. Brow furrowed, she directed at the sleeping man, "You're not as tough as you think you are." This was probably true, but Jareth gave no retort to her comment. Oh, damn it. She could be so stupidly sentimental sometimes. She couldn't leave that dumb owl alone; instead, she settled down in his lounge chair to pass the time away reading. Hopefully he'd learn his lesson when he awoke.

…

"That is such a lovely compliment."

A compliment. They were calling it a compliment. Toby's fists tightened around the rail of the crib, his teeth ground together in a way that made his jaw nearly scream with pain, but he didn't much care. It was only a baby, a red-faced little girl with wrinkly hands and chubby cheeks lying on the mattress of the crib, but the teenage Toby hated her.

Aunt Heidi was his mother's sister. Aunt Heidi and Uncle David, the Morgans, at long last with a little girl all their own. A complete family, everyone cooed – everyone but Toby Williams. Heidi was younger than her sister Karen, but she was having her child later in life in the same way. It was better that way for women with careers, even if it was a little more difficult. But all the discomfort and the waiting had been worth it for their perfect little pearl of a girl, for their Faith.

Faith Sarah Morgan.

And Mom and Dad were calling it a compliment.

Aunt Heidi had been seven months pregnant at Sarah's funeral, but she wasn't even related to the dead young woman. Oh, they were family of a sort, extended and through marriage, and it was right that the Morgans be there to support the Williams family in their most dire hour of need. But what bright idea had gotten into their heads – that it would be an honor to Sarah to grant their smelly, stupid little baby her name – Toby would never know or understand. "A compliment," said Mom.

"A very nice gesture to Sarah," said Dad.

When Robert had been driving his son home from school, the teenager broke into an angry frenzy of emotion as many teenage boys often do. "Dad, they barely even knew Sarah! This stupid baby has never gotten to meet her!"

"Toby, the baby is your cousin."

"This isn't helping! It's...it's co-opting her memory," he struggled as best he could through his tangle of feelings and whatever words from his lit class he thought might help his case.

"Toby..." Robert Williams just sighed and shook his head at his only son. "People deal with grief in different ways...your Aunt Heidi and Uncle David...they're trying to show their support for us – for your mom – by celebrating Sarah with a life. This is hard on all of us, but try to take this in the spirit in which it was intended."

Toby tried – maybe, he supposed. He thought he did, anyway. But as he looked down into the crib, all he could see was his family's attempt to replace his sister. A stupid, useless, fucking baby could never replace Sarah. Even when the thing got older, would she have his sister's strength, her sense of fun and fantasy? Would she be able to tell stories like Sarah or sing songs like Sarah or just be there when he needed her, like Sarah did? No. The answer was a great, big, obvious, fat no.

So Mom and Dad talked with Aunt Heidi and Uncle David in the nursery, and the sisters shared tips about getting a baby to sleep at night, and Toby sat on the back patio in the freezing cold of early March and listened to his headphones – and hated the world.