Sarah saw a flash of the throne room, with a couple of goblins milling about aimlessly, before it was gone again, and she had landed on a wooden structure surrounded by trees. It wasn't really a tree house, just a flat, sturdy platform high up in the trees. Sarah looked down over the edge, felt a rush of vertigo, and grabbed Jareth's arms tightly.

They were hundreds of feet above the ground. It was like some sort of rain forest, and they were in the canopy, up near the stars. The forest didn't feel tropical, like all those of such gigantic proportions Sarah had studied in school, in fact, it felt much like the Labyrinth, the desert, the Goblin City, and the castle. It felt like Jareth; raw, untamed, seething with magic, and coated in the slightest sprinkling of glitter-the flare that just hinted of vanity.

Sarah examined the sort-of half bungalow. It was equipped with just a massive, soft, heavily-pillowed sofa. She sunk into the pillows, exhausted. "What was all that about?" she asked.

"What? Draco trying to bargain you in exchange for the Labyrinth or his cursing you so that you didn't remember anything about yourself?" Jareth said smartly.

"Yes," Sarah said, squinting her eyes playfully. "What is it with you Underground men and trying to make poor innocent girls forget everything?" At Jareth's indulgent smile, she shifted uncomfortably, heat rising to her cheeks, and nervously smashed down the stiff, frilly dress she'd worn at the ball. "So I guess I wasn't worth the Labyrinth," she said questioningly.

"Would you have really wanted me to give it to him?" Jareth asked, his eyebrow raised.

"No," Sarah said vehemently. "Of course not."

"I was tempted," Jareth said ruefully. "But I didn't think you would want me to give it up. It just... wasn't fair," he said, the corner of his mouth twitching upward.

"No, it wasn't," Sarah agreed. She started to pluck at the dress, trying to get it to lay flat. "What are you going to do to him?" Sarah asked quietly, but with some relish.

Jareth's smirked cryptically. "What would you like me to do, Sarah?"

Sarah thought for a moment, looking at her frilly dress. "I'd like some poetic justice to be done," she said firmly.

"You'd like me to make him forget who he is for a while?" Jareth asked.

Certainly that would be a punishment for Draco, the man who was so incredibly smitten with his self, his palace, and his power, but Sarah suddenly had a much better idea. "No...actually...how about you let him keep his memory but steal him away for a month, just as he did me, and make him live as...a goblin."

Jareth laughed like she'd never heard him laugh before. He seemed amused enough to burst into song. "It might be difficult to persuade him to leave the protection of his palace for a while, but it will be done."

Sarah tore her eyes away from him to stare at her puffy skirt, trying to ignore the warmth that spread through her when he had begun to laugh. She started picking at her dress again, and the memory of where she'd gotten it lit up in her mind. "Draco bought this for me on our tour of the City."

Jareth stared down at her, suddenly looking less than amused.

"Um...can you get me anything else, Jareth?" Sarah asked.

He looked up at the full moon, deciding what would suit her, and then idly tossed her a crystal.

Sarah barely caught it, her tired reflexes springing into action. She looked down to find the crystal gone and her dress replaced with a set of pink silk pajamas. They had been a gift from Karen. Sarah felt her heart spasm. She grabbed at a blanket that had been stuffed between the pillows and covered up, suddenly feeling cold and miserable.

Jareth sat down next to her on the couch and said, smiling slightly, "I always liked those. I would see you in them, sometimes, after you'd made a wish." Then he seemed to notice Sarah's discomfort. "I never just sat and watched you, Sarah," he reassured her. "Your wishes came into my head unbidden... however nice it was to hear from you."

"Oh, don't worry," Sarah tried to say airily. "I'm sure you didn't ask to hear every little thing that I wanted." Then her face contorted into a mask of guilt. "Jareth," she breathed, suddenly soft and serious.

"Yes, love."

"Did you..." her expression was torn between the most intense anguish he'd ever seen and some sort of disbelieving hope. "You say you hear everything I wish. Did you..." her voice died again, choked by fear.

"Did I what?" he prompted gently, pulling himself closer and looking down with concern.

"Did you kill my family because I wished it" she whispered, eyes wide as she stared straight ahead.

Jareth took her chin in his hand, lifting her eyes up to his. "No."

Sarah blinked, took in his expression, and felt released. "Thank God," she breathed, a huge grin suddenly brightening her face, and she turned on her side to face him. They were both halfway-reclining against the cushions.

"No," Jareth said smoothly. "Thank me. If I had killed all the people you'd wished dead, there would be no more Broadway," he laughed again, remembering all the nights he'd been startled down in the Underground by Sarah's voice popping, unexpected and furious, into his head how dare you try and get me into that costume, I wish you'd just die. "I've learned not to take all of your wishes seriously, not after last time."

Sarah snuck her arm out tentatively from under her blanket and wrapped it around his middle. For a fleeting second, she wasn't sure of herself, but he didn't flinch or pull away and just sort of softened under her touch. She turned her head to look up at the stars, which were somehow different in the Underground. She could swear she saw a constellation in the shape of a dancing couple. "Well, how are you sure which wishes are real?" she asked, turning her face to Jareth once more. "I mean, can you tell if what I'm wishing now should be taken seriously?"

Jareth, who'd been sprawled elegantly across the pillows, his hand lazily grazing Sarah's hair, tensed into focus. "Yes, Sarah. I think that should be taken very seriously," he said, and leaned in to kiss her.

It was their first kiss, only the third time their skin had met, after the night in the desert and the peck Jareth had given her in the ballroom. Three years of stubborn misunderstanding was swept away. As Sarah's breath caught in thrilled surprise, Jareth understood what she'd really meant when she'd said I don't like him more than I do you, and when Jareth slid his hand from her cheek down the length of her body, Sarah realized just how exceptional Jareth thought she was. At length, they both came to understand that simple pants, shirt, boots, and a pajama set was too much clothing on such a warm night.

"It wasn't horrible," she answered, lifting an eyebrow teasingly.

Jareth hesitated for a moment, voice on edge. "Go ahead, Sarah," he said quietly. "Tell me what you really think."

"Really?" she asked, her face growing just as serious. "I never expected anything that wonderful just a few hours ago, when I was convinced I was a chaste Empress whose deepest pleasure came from a nice pedicure. In any case, I've gotten more than enough excitement to satisfy me for tonight, and maybe another week, so you can work on that goblin thing anytime you want" and indeed, her words became slurred and her distinctly green eyes drifted shut. Within moments, she was slumbering peacefully.

Jareth smoothed the hair away from her face and looked up at the pre-dawn sky. The full moon was near setting and behind it, Jareth could see a constellation shaped oddly like a couple, embraced in a slow dance, and making their way down to the horizon.