DISCLAIMER: I don't own Labyrinth or any of the characters associated with the film. They are the property of the Jim Henson Company. I do own all other characters.

WARNING: This story is rated M for language mainly. Sarah drops the F-bomb a lot. The end.

AN: Righto. So, I don't know what this is...but it's fun!

I can’t do this much longer. I can’t keep running from him. He’s wearing me down. It’s just what he does. For Christ’s sake, I can’t even think in long sentences! I looked behind my shoulder as I rounded the corner, but I don’t know why. He can fly; he has that advantage. I looked up into the sky almost instinctively, as though expecting him to suddenly make a mistake and fly overhead. Not very wise. Not very likely. The sky is grey, cloudy and unyielding. A storm is approaching and I know the cause. I know it in my very soul. I feel it. I feel him. Why can’t he just leave me alone?

I pulled my coat tight around me and shivered. The cold was as unyielding as the sky; it chilled me to my very core. I could see my building now and I felt a wave of warm relief as I approached it. For some bizarre reason, I felt safe once I was inside. It was as though I thought of him as a vampire: he can’t come in unless he’s invited. That might be true, I haven’t exactly tried it. I don’t think I ever will. I was across the street from my building when I started fumbling through my worn messenger bag for my keys. They were jarringly cold against my bare hands and I dropped them as I pulled them out. I dropped my fucking keys in the middle of the street. Careless, Sarah. Really, effing careless.

I scooped up my keys in one fell swoop without even pausing. There were no room for mistakes, and this was just my everyday life. Imagine, if you will, just imagine what my life is like when things get complicated. He likes it that way. He waits for it. He waits for me to make a mistake, to say the wrong words…or the right words, I suppose. So, having a social life is out of the question. I mean, how do I explain to my friends when they say something like “Sarah, the millionaire!” and all I can do is smile? I cannot – CANNOT – say the phrase “I wish!” and the temptation is so very great in a situation like that. I fumble with my keys at the door; I can almost hear him flapping behind me. Just go away, Goblin King! Just go away!

I practically fell inside the front door, huffing and puffing as though I’d been running a marathon. But, I hadn’t been. I’d only been walking home. I hate my life. So, back to the point, dating is ABSOLUTELY out of the question. What if someone were to ask me what my greatest wish were? I couldn’t even think of the risk that would cause. I had a boyfriend who asked me the following on our one year anniversary (ONE YEAR! Can you believe I actually held off that long?): “Sarah, what do you wish for? Your wish is my command.” Well, you can imagine how that went. Right, I sent him straight out the door without so much as an explanation. I mean, what could I say? “Sorry, dear, I have a preternatural stalker. Things aren’t going to progress any further.” Well, no, I couldn’t, could I? No, siree Bob.

I sighed heavily as I pulled off my coat and scarf and tossed them onto the couch. I love my couch. We’d been thick and thin, my couch and I. It showed. Oh well. I threw myself into it. Now, let’s see, where was I? Oh, right. My family lives on the other side of the country, and on the other side of the country they shall stay. I’m not sure how I made it through the two years post-labyrinth (PL, as I like to say) at home. Once I was in University, I opted for lonerdom and spinsterhood. It’s the only way I can be safe.

I collapsed over sideways on my couch and just breathed in the musty smell of my ancient companion. Writing is a lonely profession and therefore the only one for me. I’m left with my imagination and words, plenty of words, which I can use to explain myself to the outside world. They all think that I’m brilliant. That the character of Melleth, crown prince of the faery realm, is an amazing creation. No one can figure out why Cordelia would even want to deny him. Well, Melleth isn’t exactly a creation and I know damn well why Cordelia denies him. At first, I thought I could just release it all onto the page and then at least, should he actually catch me, my story would be there in cryptic format. I would live on. The next generation would know me. I never expected the books to become popular. I never expected to be famous.

I groaned into my coat and decided that this was exactly how I would fall asleep tonight: with my ass in the air and my face in my coat. Not really graceful, but I had no one to impress. Am I lonely? Nah. I mean, sure I was for a while. Boys are nice to snuggle. They smell nice. It’s all very…nice, but I’m just fine by myself. As long as…he…could stay away. Back to my books, I thought that perhaps I could gain some insight from my fans. Maybe they saw something that I didn’t, but alas all they wanted were gratuitous sex scenes. That was certainly not going to happen. Why couldn’t they just accept that she wanted nothing to do with him? Why couldn’t they just accept that he was trouble? That real girls aren’t actually into trouble? Why? Why couldn’t they understand me?

Anyway, welcome to my life. I spend it evading the Goblin King and writing fiction that no one understands. I crawled into my coat some more, pulling my legs into a sort of front fetal position. Sometimes I just wished that I could let this stuff go, right now. Oh. For fuck’s sake. I did not just think the ‘w’ word. I didn’t. It didn’t happen. It wasn’t a direct wish. No. No, no, no. It didn’t happen. I didn’t say it. Woo. Calm down, Sarah. You have to say it right. You have to. But, you didn’t. It’s fine. Really. God. I pulled my head out from under my coat and glanced around my dark apartment furtively. I was alone, like always. Nothing had happened.

Pellets of hail slapped against my window suddenly, causing me to jump straight out of my skin. The storm had hit and I couldn’t stop my heart from pounding. The wind flew at my window ferociously. What had I done? I stood up and flicked the light switch. Nothing. No power. No power in December. Oh, good. Silently, and without looking at the window, I began to gather blankets from the linen closet. It was going to be a damn cold night. I crawled off into my bed with twenty or so blankets over me and covered my head with one of them. I refused to look at any windows. I didn’t say it. It didn’t happen.

I could hear the hail hitting my window; it sounded like claws scraping the glass. I closed my eyes tight and willed it to go away. Without pulling the blanket from over my head, I reached out to my bedside table in search of my earplugs, only just as I did so, I realized that I could no longer hear anything at all. The storm had stopped and my hand had not made it to the nightstand. In fact, I was currently gripping some inhumanly soft fabric stretched across an inhumanly solid body. I froze and pulled my hand back into the mass of blankets. Maybe if he couldn’t see me, he’d go away.

I heard him tutting outside of my blanket tent. TUTTING. I kid you not. Who tuts? No one from this world, I tell you. Alright, maybe old British ladies, but that’s it! I am dead certain that it was not an old British lady perched on the edge of my bed.

“Really, Sarah. How old are you?”

His voice was exactly as I remembered it. Just as honeyed, just as clipped, just as sensual. Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck fuck. Fucking hell fuck. I wished he would just go away.

“Oh, come on now, Sarah. How many wishes do you think you get?”

“Go away. I didn’t say it. Go away.”

And, I didn’t. I thought it. I thought it and he still heard it. He can read my mind? WHAT? HE CAN READ MY MIND? Oh, great. And, I had done so well up until now. Eleven years, down the drain. But, wait, what had I wished for first? Right, that I could just let all this go. What did that even mean?

“Precisely what I’d like to know, Sarah.”

That is it! I pulled the blanket over my head and sat up furiously, my hair tangling in front of my face in the process. I stared at him through the curtain of my mass of hair.

“Would you please stop that?” I asked through gritted teeth, “My mind is not an open book!”

He was fingering a copy of one of my novels. He grinned at me lazily, “Apparently it is.”

I ran my hands through my hair, trying to get it out of my face. How could I possibly think straight with hair obscuring my vision?

“I didn’t say anything, Jar…,” I stopped. Oh no, no. I wouldn’t do that. I’d already done enough damage as it was. The twelfth year of silence on the matter would continue.

“No, but you thought it and that was enough.”

“Go away.”

“No, I have a wish to grant.”

“Well, that’s my top priority wish right now. I wish you would go away right now.”

Nothing happened. Nothing happened and he just stared at me all smug. I grunted incoherently.

“How attractive, Sarah,” he replied.

He stood up so damn languidly and walked towards the window.

“As you well know, Sarah, it’s all about the words.”

“Right, so what part of ‘I wish you would go away right now’ don’t you understand?”

I was flailing here. I mean, completely out of my element. To top it all off, I thought I was catching a cold. Uhg. That was probably how I had messed up in the beginning. God. Damn. It.

“Well, the ‘you’ part to be specific,” he replied lightly, turning around to face me gracefully. “Who, exactly, do you wish would go away?”

I rolled my eyes at him. “I wasn’t born yesterday. Now, go away.”

“Oh no, you wished for something and here I am.”

“I didn’t mean it!”

“Oh, you didn’t?”

“Don’t be condescending towards me, Goblin King!”

“Now, Sarah,” he said, a feral grin stretching across his face as he walked towards me, “I don’t understand what it means for you to ‘let this stuff go’. Care to explain?”

“No, I don’t!”

Why couldn’t he just leave? Maybe if I was relentless in my not giving him an answer, he would go away. Grow frustrated and leave. Not bloody likely.

“Hm, not likely indeed, Sarah,” he said mildly.

I screamed something incomprehensible and tugged at my hair. “Stop doing that!”

“If you tell me what I need to know, I’ll be on my way.”

“To stalk me for eternity?”

The Goblin King smiled almost cruelly. “If that is your wish.”

“Well it isn’t. I wish you’d just leave me alone.”

“Not a possibility, my dear.”

“I’m not your dear.”

“Alright, my love.”

“UHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHG. JARETH, GO AWAY!”

My hand flew up to my mouth and I immediately recognized my mistake. What the hell was wrong with me tonight? I reached up and touched my forehead subconsciously. I was burning up. Well, that answered that question. I chose to tell YOU my life story when I was coming down with a fever. Fantastic. Thanks a lot.

“Don’t. Say. Anything,” I said sharply.

Jareth said nothing, he merely watched me with an amused half-smile.

“I have a fever. These were unfair circumstances.”

Surely he could be reasonable, couldn’t he?

“You’ve had fevers before,” he stated simply.

Apparently not. Damn him. Damn him all to hell!

“It’s not fair!” I whined uncharacteristically. I hadn’t uttered those words in eleven years either. God. Today must be veritable time machine day. Uhg.

“All’s fair in love and war.”

I collapsed against my pillow. The furnace clicked on. Oh, so he’d been kind enough to restore the heat to the apartment. How thoughtful. I just wanted to sleep.

“And, which one is this, I wonder?” I mumbled, flinging my arm over my eyes, “Don’t answer that.”

I pulled my arm from my face and looked up at him. Well, wasn’t he just the most beautiful thing I’d laid eyes… Wait, he can read my mind. Fuck. He raised his eyebrows mockingly. I pointed at him.

“Shut up! I need to sleep off this fever. Can I have your word that you won’t trick me into any contracts or crazy faery things while I’m feverish? Can you just give me the time to recuperate?”

Jareth looked affronted. “I may be many things, but I am not so low as to trick you into submission while you are not of your right mind.”

“Your word?” I insisted.

“I will not attempt to gain what is mine until you have recuperated,” he said solemnly.

I smiled. “Great. Now, go away.”

“I’m afraid not, Sarah. When I have claim to something so valuable, I rarely let it out of my sight. I’ll be right here, waiting for your recovery.”

Like a vulture waiting for an animal to die. He looked affronted again. Whatever.

“Go away.”

“I won’t. Besides, what would I do if you fell deathly ill? What would you do? You’ve ostracized yourself to the point of absurdity, Sarah. I’ll be here, rest easy.”

I snorted; unconsciousness and fever were sneaking up on me quickly. My eyes closed and the world seemed to fuzz out of existence. Although I’d never admit it verbally, it was nice to know that someone would be taking care of me. Even if he was my preternatural stalker.