"Well, you know that old saying, 'Keep your friends close and make out with your enemies.'"

Shae Ross

In that moment Sarah fully realized she'd have to face the consequences of her brashness.

Again.

Something avaricious crossed the Goblin King's face at her damning silence and he felt a flush of power and possibility flood his senses…

And then, because things are rarely what they seem, the boy lifted his face and everything went to shit.

Sarah's expression mutated into something Jareth couldn't read but knew he didn't like, right before she burst into laughter.

She couldn't help herself in fact. She laughed hard. Laughed in relief. Laughed in that way that is neither charming nor pretty and sometimes involves tears and snot. Laughed in a way that is often infectious, so much so that the guards found themselves joining in despite not yet getting the joke. Until, of course, their monarch silenced them with a look of such warning one very nearly soiled himself. The other most certainly did.

"Hello, Simon."

"H'ullo, Sarah," he replied in a desultory tone. Then he shot a side look at the Goblin King. "I'm still not impressed. What else you got?"

Sarah's lips twitched. "You seem none the worse for wear."

Jareth watched the exchange with disbelief, his initial rage subsiding just as quickly as it had risen into resignation. "This is not your brother."

Sarah and Simon's emphatic 'no's' formed a perfect harmony that promptly drilled a hole in his skull.

He pinched a pained brow. "And let me guess. You don't want this one back." Not that he could blame her.

Normally Sarah would have felt compelled to say something diplomatic. Something kind and effusive. Parents had entrusted their precious offspring into her care after all, and she took that trust seriously. She played nice. But Simon had already begun stuffing his pockets with yet more caterpillars.

"Not in the least. Enjoy. By the way, he is on a gluten free meal plan and I'd strongly suggest no sugar in the afternoon. Or anytime really." She turned to Simon. "Behave yourself."

Simon, whose pockets were wriggling in a most disturbing way, offered Sarah a petulant look. "Probably won't."

She reached out and ruffled his hair in a rare bout of sincere affection. "Perfect."

And then, in what was fast becoming her signature move, she turned and walked away from the Goblin King.

Jareth was slow to react. Slow to process what had just gone down and slow to understand how the infuriating girl had somehow gotten the better of him. Again.

Especially when something was wriggling on his boot. Before he could shuck it off, the not-Toby disappointment bent down and picked it up, adding it to his pockets. Their eyes locked. The not-Toby spoke first.

"You have weird hair. I'm hungry. When's lunch? This is boring. I want to go swimming. Are you wearing makeup?"

Whatever else he was about to say was cut off. Jareth flicked his fingers and the boy and guards disappeared.

Somewhere overhead a small furred creature chirped at him angrily.

And then he was on her, catching up to her before she disappeared round the bend in the trail and before his magic pulled him back because no bargain having been fulfilled.

Her yelp of protest and fear only marginally soothed his rattled pride.

She wasn't that much smaller than him, his chin just clearing her forehead, but his boots and her flat shoes exaggerated the difference. He was also strong enough that her attempts to extract herself from his hold were almost comical.

"Sarah," he drawled her name out into something sinful. The effect made her still.

She smelled like a combination of some sort of coconut oil, residual campfire and sunlight itself. It should have been a strange combination but it had an effect on him too. He couldn't help but remember her laid out on the dock, all tanned skin and delightfully little clothing. A memento of which he still had. He'd done it to anger her, but the fascinating bits of string had been strangely warm from the sun and damp from her skin. He'd wondered just how warm and damp she might have felt to the touch.

She was warm now. And soft despite her struggles.

Sarah cleared her throat delicately.

"What is this game you are playing?" His rational mind reminded him to focus. "You have to know you will fail. I know you too well to believe you will resign those… innocent," he stumbled slightly on the word, "children to their fate. Where is that noble champion of the righteous?" In your arms, smelling like a ripe piece of fruit, his cocked helpfully reminded him.

"The champion needed a vacation," she replied – sounding just a little like the tow-haired brat he'd mistaken for her brother. Heads would definitely roll for that oversight. But strangely the way Sarah pouted didn't annoy him and instead made him want to test the plushness of her lower lip. The one that looked so soft despite being chapped from the sun.

"There were easier ways to find yourself respite than to saddle me with children. I would have thought you'd learned your lesson. You know there will be consequences."

"I guess I didn't." Sarah wriggled, trying to break the hold he had on her shoulders. All it did was put something altogether more interesting into his hand.

Sarah sucked in a breath, her eyes flying to his face. Ignoring every instinct that told him he was a king, not a gentlemen, and therefore had no moral obligations - Jareth readjusted his grip.

"We're not through talking." Though part of me would like to be.

"You can't keep me here." The she was careful not to struggle in the same way again. "You have no-"

"Don't say it," he snapped irritably. Truthfully the words themselves were benign – expected even - but he was already having a bad day and he was loathe to let her add to it anymore. "We both know I do in fact. I may have chosen the wrong boy but I did not misread your reaction, Sarah. Young Toby is somewhere in my kingdom, isn't he?" His voice had dropped to a low cadence. He didn't wait for an answer. "Somewhere amongst the charges you so unfairly saddled me with. You may not want the rest back, cruel girl, but I suspect you want your brother back. Again. This is becoming something of a habit with you, isn't it?"

The guilt was hard to disguise on her face, so instead she channelled it into more familiar stubborness.

She affected a look of indifference. Like she had other places to be and he was wasting her time. "Is that it?" It was another flavour of the same dismissal she'd been giving him since she'd called upon him.

Jareth was momentarily taken aback by the unfamiliar creature in his arms. The one not acting at all noble or concerned or nauseatingly martyr-like.

But she couldn't hide the tension in her body, and his hands tightened reflexively on her ugly plaid shirt for a moment. "You know, I was going to forgive your little misspeak. Because make no mistake, you summoned me, Sarah. But now I think I won't be so forgiving." He gave her a long slow look. "I'm not sure I can trust you aboveground any longer. Wreaking havoc like a spoiled little girl trying to shirk her responsibilities. Perhaps it's time to consider you might be better suited somewhere else altogether. You do seem to have an inability to leave me alone in peace."

He was emboldened by her sharp intake of breath. He found he very much wanted to make her do it again.

"Don't test me, Sarah. I've been patient thus far. Indulgent even, for old time's sake. You won't like me angry. Perhaps I'll shall spare myself the trouble of you doing this again in another ten years, and just keep you at the end of this." He'd said the latter to shock her, but found the words felt surprisingly right. He didn't add that wasn't actually in his power. Yet. Though it had not escaped his notice that she was no longer too young to keep. "How you choose to handle this will determine whether or not you find that indefinite stay enjoyable. I will regardless."

Her eyes darted as she processed his words and then in that act of defiance he found as intoxicating as he did infuriating, she canted her head. That same distinctive chin jut she'd done in the tunnels. When he'd been tempted to really up the stakes if she hadn't been so damnably young.

"Do your worst." Her words held the same false sense of bravado.

They were also the invitation he'd been waiting for.

He pinched her stubborn chin between. A smile parting his lips that didn't quite reach his eyes. "I thought you'd never ask." He brushed her mouth with his – just a quick slant – and over before it started but allowing no doubt of his intentions. Of what her invitation would entail. Her eyes fluttered shut and were still shut when he pulled back, affording him a brief moment to see her face free of denial.

He was tempted to savour it but instead he released her altogether. Because this time Sarah would watch him walk away.

She stared after his retreating form, one hand rising towards her lips until she forced it back down again.

The dappled sunlight through the trees made his pale hair all the brighter – a contrast to his dark armour. When he vanished it was like he'd blended into the rays of light.

What the hell had just happened? Her heartbeat finally caught up to her thoughts and it threatened to pump its way right out of her chest.

There was a certain humour in that he'd try to barter the Cub Scout Sarah least wanted back. But the ability to say no to him – again – was relished only briefly. He knew he had Toby. And he knew she wanted him back. That had certainly shifted the power back towards his side of the board.

And he'd just declared he wanted to play for keeps.

The kiss had been unexpected.

And not altogether unpleasant. She shook that thought from her mind. Hang in there, Toby. I will figure it all out. She just had to hope her friends would come to her aid again in the meantime.

I need you…

"Challenge! I am afraid that is not a word, Sir Ludo." The knight shook his head and cleared the tiles from the board with a small paw.

The larger beast made a noise of mild displeasure and considered his letters again. It wasn't easy to play Scrabble when you couldn't spell. So he was actually quite relieved when Hoggle burst through the door of the small abode.

The dwarf was panting hard, evidence that he'd been running. And running fast.

"Sarah," Hoggle wheezed.

"My lady?" Sir Didymus quickly noted the score – for posterity's sake - and then began putting the pieces back in the bag.

"Trouble… children… Him..."

Ludo thwacked the dwarf twice in quick succession on the back, which took care of the spittle caught in his throat, but sent Hoggle careening into Sir Didymus' collection of commemorative plates.

"Erghf! You ruddy great beast." He yelled over the sound of breaking porcelain. "You almost killed me!"

Sir Didymus quietly bemoaned the lost of some of his favourites, but gallantly focussed on his friend. "Pease, Sir Hoggle. Pray tell us what ill has befallen our noble lady?"

"Him! It's always him!" Hoggle gesticulated wildly and then proceeded to fill them in on what he knew.

"Then we must protect the lad," Sir Didymus declared when Hoggle was finished. "It is our duty."

"And risk his wrath again? We narrowly avoided executions last time. I likes me head where it is, thank you very much."

"Hoggle," Sir Didymus admonished gravelly. "Is that anyway to behave as a knight? Sarah needs us. Can't you feel it?"

Ludo nodded in agreement. Not to mention it had been awhile since he'd committed treason, and he far preferred treason to scrabble.

Hoggle, who despite being an avowed coward, naturally had already arrived at the same conclusion. He still felt it necessary to at least voice his concerns. Having discharged that duty, he too was prepared to help in anyway. He couldn't help adding one final sobering thought however. "Just remember that it will be our heads on pikes this time."

Sarah spent the rest of the day in a bit of a haze, expecting the other shoe to drop at any moment. Anytime a twig snapped or a bird chirped, she jumped.

It had not gone unnoticed either.

One of the other leaders pulled her aside. "Are you alright, Sarah? You seem a bit on edge."

"I'm fine," she lied. I'm not at all involved in a battle of wills with a magical being with untold powers, who happens to have all our kids, thanks to me, including your son. No, I'm fine, Fred. Thank you for asking.

"Okay, it's just that you're setting a bit of a bad example." He said it in a reedy, nasally sort of patronizing way that instantly had her realizing he was the one that had ratted her out to Doug. That and his eyes had trouble staying on her face.

"A bad example for whom, Fred?" She folded her arms over her chest and tapped her foot. Then she pointedly looked around the desolate camp. "All the kids who aren't here?"

Fred's face blanked and without really answering her, he just smiled widely. "Just cheer up, sunshine." He sounded like a used car salesman and she swore if he looked down again she'd break his nose. "Camp is about having fun."

Sure. Fun.

She skipped dinner that evening, choosing instead to regroup at her empty campsite. She needed a strategy for getting Toby back. One that somehow involved her keeping her dignity. She was past throwing herself on his mercy. Mercy she was fairly certain he did not possess anyway. She was startled to find the lack more than a little exciting.

She would have wished upon a star – the sky was aglow with them – but she didn't dare make that mistake again.

Jareth had immediately returned to seek out the brats in question. The not-Toby child he instantly recognized and discounted. He'd surprisingly proven himself a fairly capable chicken wrangler by hand feeing them from caterpillars from his pockets. He was pinched faced Pied Piper of poultry.

The Goblin King discounted another ten or so children as well, some because they were girls, others because they had dark hair or dark skin. The wrong features altogether. Based on Sarah's reaction he was looking for a little blonde boy.

He'd tried demanding Toby reveal himself but no child had stepped forward. He'd also demanded the other children point out Toby in their midst. Not one had betrayed so much as a tick. Upon further interrogation he was informed by a brace wearing ginger haired girl that there was such a thing as "Scouts honour". The not-Toby had added, "snitches get stitches," which Jareth could only discern meant they were presenting a united front.

Against him.

Not against the one who had wished them away in the first place.

He kind of hated children.

"Put them on firery duty next, Pöngö. Tell them they need to ensure all the limbs are accounted for."

"But sire," his general protested, "it's molting season!"

"Indeed, therefore it ought to keep them busy."

With a final frown at the rabble, he retired to his rooms and shucked his armour. Standing only in his pants he spied the discarded top from her ridiculous swimsuit lying on the bed where he'd left it. He picked it up intending to discard it but instead found himself brining it to his nose. The material had dried but it was it was still slightly warm and held a lingering and distinctive scent of coconuts.

Perhaps it was because he'd been forced to brave far worse smells recently, but the scent worked like a puppet string straight to his cock. Frustration welled to the surface and then morphed into another kind altogether. It had, admittedly, been a while. He wasn't sure if he even meant sex or being challenged but the two had always blurred together for him and he couldn't think of anything else. He wasn't sure if he liked just how much of an alarmingly potent effect she was having on him.

That insolent, infuriating girl who smelled like coconuts and sunshine. He breathed in the material one more time.

Before he knew what he was doing, he had laid back on his bed and had freed himself. Still gripping the top in his hand he worked it down the length of his semi-hard shaft with a hiss of pleasure. When he imagined her hands on him instead or better yet, her wearing the top while she used her mouth, he was fully and painfully hard. What better way to stop that insolent mouth.

Or maybe he'd work himself between her suntanned breasts – the hint of which he'd seen on the dock – he'd twist the top in his hand while she begged…

He came surprisingly quickly, across the top still fisted in his hand and onto his taut stomach.

Perhaps keeping her wasn't such an empty threat at all.

First he had to find her brother and end their little stand off, so he could start another sort of game altogether.

Cleaning himself up without any shame, he rang for his general.

"Pöngö, just how many children arrived here exactly?"

"Thirty by my last count, sire."

"Mistake me if I am wrong," a rhetorical statement as no one would ever dare correct him, "but did I only count 29 when I returned?"

Sarah awoke from a troubled sleep. She'd not slept well or long and the feeling of impending doom was not lessened by the bright sun streaming in though the tent. She scrubbed at her face and gathered her hair up into a messy bun. It needed a washing.

Just like she needed a plan. Bu hot coffee first.

Changing quickly into a tank and a pair of clean – by camp standards anyway – shorts she made her way to the dining hall and slipped in the back kitchen door. The most direct route to the fuel.

She was quietly blowing on a steaming cup when she joined the rest of the Scout leaders in the mess. A scattering of weary greetings met her. Several of them were looking out the windows.

She'd just taken a dangerously large sip when one spoke aloud.

"Like I know we're not supposed to say it, but this latest batch of campers has got to be the ugliest yet."

She choked slightly, burning her tongue and throat in the process. There were a few murmurs of agreement.

"Sorry, what?"

The leader in question glanced sheepishly in her direction. "You're right that wasn't nice. They are kids. Kids have awkward stages but come on, this has got to be next level."

In the few feet it took for Sarah to close the distance to the window, she already knew what she would see. Knew it on a visceral level confirmed when she glanced outside.

Goblins.

Goblins in baseball caps and t-shirts, holding sleeping bags and backpacks. Some picking their nose like any child might. Some picking their neighbour's nose in a way they wouldn't.

The yellow camp school bus closed it's door as the last got off and took off at a fairly impressive pace, kicking up a cloud of dust in its wake. Like it too would rather get as far away as possible from the "campers".

Sarah felt its pain.

It was going to be a no good, very bad day. She looked down dourly at her cup. And no amount of over-cooked coffee would change that.

The Goblin King had declared war.

AN: Thanks for your patience, guys. I have not abandoned this fic, it's just hard to focus on a summer romp in the middle of winter! I was going to put it on temp hiatus while I focussed more on How to Catch a Goblin King and Tanglewood, and getting a Reylo fic off the ground, but then a burst of inspiration came today – no pun intended. Hope you enjoyed this little slice…

… because Sarah most certainly won't… dun, dun, dun! Coincidentally the last chapter of How to Catch a Goblin King ended in war too. At least this Jareth got off.