AN: So, just in case a few of my more 'manga inclined' readers open this thinking it's related to the series Akuma De Sorou (The Devil does Exist, a manga licensed in the US by CMX), it's not. I simply borrowed the title. I know, I know, bad me.
Disclaimer: None of the Labyrinth issues are the property of the Jim Henson Co. Any other resemblances to other characters/series are simply the result of me being really bad at thinking of names...
The Devil Does Exist
College had been a dream. Sarah knew this with unerring certainty before she entered her classical literature class. She'd made friends for the first time since she'd run the Labyrinth when she was fifteen. Her delight had increased when she learned that she could call her friends from the Underground friends from any mirror she wished. Now, for the first time, she was living away from home, working part time at a burger joint.
She'd escaped Karen, and to this date, had never again set her eyes upon the wickedly handsome Goblin King. Life was going according to her master plan.
Too bad she didn't know that fate was going to throw a monkey wrench in that grand design of hers.
After all, Sarah had no idea that one Professor King was her childhood nemesis, on a temporary sabbatical from the Goblin Kingdom, leaving it under the control of his very enthusiastic younger brother Rowland.
She was also completely unaware that this particular Enemy turned Professor had entered the same classroom she was about to enter about an hour ago.
Her dream come true was about to spiral uncontrollably into a nightmare.
Sarah had been chatting with her roommate, Christine, and a mutual friend, Elizabeth, as she walked into her Literature class, happily unaware of the man who was standing at the blackboard, jotting down notes. They picked a seat about midway to the back and got comfortable, speaking amicably about the party they intended on going to that weekend.
"Marc is totally into you, Sarah, you should give him a chance." Elizabeth said, laughing.
Sarah laughed softly. "Yeah, and be the latest in a long line of broken hearts and hymens." She scoffed. "The only thing that guy is interested in is another cherry..." She set her books down, noting that her friends were staring at the front of the class in a distracted manner. She glanced and saw a man wearing almost painfully tight looking pants standing at the front of the room, arm stretched above his head as he wrote notes on the board. "What?"
"Oh my god..." They both mumbled. "Those pants are criminal..." There were several murmurs of agreement from nearby females.
Sarah scoffed. "I've seen tighter." She muttered, remembering a certain man whose codpiece was visible. She coughed, sitting in her seat. Oddly enough, the man seemed familiar. He wore a suit vest, and baggy poet's shirt, in addition to those extremely well tailored pants. His pale blond hair was pulled back into a ponytail and he wore leather gloves on his hands.
However, it was when he turned that she finally realized whose assets her friends were checking out. A screech left her lips like steam leaving a kettle and she pushed herself as far backwards as possible. One blue eye, one brown, those deviously slanted brows, lips curled up into an arrogant smirk. Professor J. King was none other than her hated childhood nemesis, Jareth, the Goblin King. Oh, god help her!
Worse yet, her two friends were indulging in a dreamy sigh that made Sarah want to drive her pencil through her ear and swiftly end her life. How had this happened?! No, she had to calm down. Granted, the man had an uncanny resemblance to her childhood villain, but there was no way in hell it was actually him. He a job to do. Babies to steal, goblins to kick into the air, Hoggle to threaten with the Bog. He simply couldn't come up topside and turn her world end over end. Besides, it was against the rules! She'd demanded him out of her life!
Her breaths grew more and more shallow and she felt her nails digging into the desk.
"Well, class, welcome to Literature 111, I'll be your professor for the following semester..." He drawled, his eyes moving over the class easily. He paused when he spotted Sarah, and she knew without a doubt in that moment it really was him. That Cheshire cat smile broadened and he continued. "I'm certain it will be an interesting experience for everyone involved..."
She wanted to swear, to rage. How, oh how had this happened to her? Was it because she didn't go to church. Well, if God struck the Goblin King down right here and now, she promised that she would go to church every Sunday for the rest of her life!
"Please open your text books to page one hundred and thirty seven." He turned his backs to them, but Sarah saw the smile take on a malicious edge and shivered in fear. Oh, heaven help her. She was so perpetually screwed, there wasn't a word to describe just how screwed she was.
"Sarah?" Christine leaned towards her. "You're really pale, you okay?"
She closed her eyes and swallowed hard.
"Do you know him or something?" Elizabeth whispered.
"Or something..." Sarah muttered in agreement.
A piece of chalk hit her in the face and she winced, peeling the offending writing utensil from her face. It had hit her dead between the eyes with considerable force. She looked up and found the instructor looking down at her with an expression of wicked amusement. "It would appear you wish to be the first student to test my considerable patience..." He said in that delightful drawl of his. It didn't go unnoticed that many of the female students and a few males shivered at the sound.
"What?" She asked testily.
She saw the amusement in his eyes deepen and felt like the canary cornered by a hungry cat. Shit shit shit. "Sarah Williams."
"Well, then...Miss Williams...consider yourself warned. Any more speaking out in my class will result in sentences after my class." He began moving towards the front of the class once again.
Sarah scowled at him and hurled the offending piece of chalk at his meticulous black vest.
Unfortunately, it landed right into the palm of his hand and he continued moving forward unaffected.
Oh, how she hated that man. She hated him more than she hated anyone else on the planet. Screw with her, eh? We'll just see about that!
Jareth watched the class clear out in amusement, noting Sarah did her damnedest to avoid looking at him. How refreshingly amusing. It had been three whole years since he'd last seen her, and he had not expected to see her sitting there in his class, but her reactions to his presence had been simply delightful. She may fight against him, kicking and screaming, but in the end, he would finally have his victory over the girl.
He gathered his own belongings, heading towards the door, contemplating how to torture the girl further. Perhaps this vacation in the Above would do him far more good than he'd initially suspected. After all, he sincerely doubted Sarah was aware of his plans for her.
He moved through the hallway, noting Sarah fending off the advances of a pathetic mortal.
"Marc, I really don't think it's a good idea, sorry."
"Come on, babe, it'll be fun. William's taking Elizabeth, and Raoul's going with Christine. It'll suck to be a fifth wheel..."
Jareth felt a deep frown cut across his face, his amusement gone. "Miss Williams, you forgot a book on your desk." He said calmly, leaning against the wall, watching her give him an almost grateful look. He looked towards the young man, who was glaring at him in hatred. He smirked in amusement. "I'm sure your beau wouldn't begrudge you a moment to retrieve it."
Sarah broke away from Marc, practically running back into the room.
Jareth moved towards the young man, an amicable smile upon his face. "You know, young man, sometimes subtlety goes a long way." He moved past him, ignoring the look of unbridled fury on his face. A glance behind him saw Sarah heading the opposite way down the hallway, at practically a sprint. He chuckled in amusement.
This was going to be a delightful year. Perhaps even more delightful than he'd first suspected.
She'd thought she'd only see the insufferable man once a week, during her literature class. Of course, since that's what Sarah expected, he had to go out of his way to prove her wrong. In fact, it seemed to her that he was going out of his way to be exactly where she went when seeking peace and solace. The library, the cafeteria, and god help her, he even popped into the lavatory once.
She could scarcely sleep for fear that the bastard would pop in when she was sleeping.
It actually came as a relief when she and her friends dressed for the party, and went to go behave like children for a short while. Sarah fully intended on imbibing on a great deal of alcohol to get her mind off the uncontrolled spiral it had begun since the Goblin King had once again graced her with his arrogant presence.
In true party spirit, she wore her tightest leather pants, stiletto boots, and an equally tight leather corset, complete with ribbons and lace. She wore her make-up just edgy enough to feel powerful, and her hair teased just a bit to add volume. She pulled her leather jacket over everything else and headed out of her room, where Christine and Elizabeth were waiting. "Looking good Williams," Christine smirked. "Trying to impress anyone in particular?"
Sarah rolled her eyes, tossing her hair back. "Right. You two don't look too bad yourselves. Then again, you have boyfriends to impress..."
"You could have gone with Marc-"
"And wound up with a drug in my drink, flat on my back mid-way through the evening." She snorted. "Not a chance in hell." She grabbed her purse. "I'd sooner sleep with his Nibs before going to a party with that annoying prick."
They laughed. "You'd probably have more fun, too."
"Oh my god did you see his PACKAGE?!" Elizabeth fanned herself with her hand.
"It's not like you could miss it!" Christine chortled.
Sarah hid her face in mild humiliation. "Watch out, there's probably some fine print somewhere, objects in pants are larger than they appear."
Her friends dissolved into a fit of giggles and they headed out to go get hammered and probably laid.
The party wasn't bad, the music blared through the speakers, and the beer was flowing in copious amounts. Sarah accepted a plastic cup, saluting the person who handed it to her and headed away from her friends to dance and otherwise enjoy herself.
Unfortunately, she'd just joined the writhing bodies on the dance floor when Marc found her, grinding his pelvis against her backside, and holding her hips, poorly pantomiming the movements of sex. She was attempting to pull away, but every time she made an attempt, he pulled her hips more firmly against his, grinding his erection against her backside. She shuddered.
"Hey, babe...wanna go upstairs and find some place quiet...?"
She pretended to consider for a moment. "Hm, let's see, ah, no." She was about to drive an elbow into whatever she could reach and follow that up with a well placed knee to his groin, when a cheer went up around the building.
Oh, god help her, she just couldn't win.
Fortunately, Marc's grip loosened on her and she broke free, weaving her way through people as she approached the back door, attempting to make a stealthy escape. The last thing she needed was to see the Goblin King in a casual setting.
"Ah, Miss Williams...whatever are you doing here...and dressed so delightfully..." She barely had a moment to register the voice as belonging to the man before two fingers snaked into the back of her strapless corset top and she was pulled back against that hard, male body. She went rigid, her breath squeaking out of her. His chuckle swept across her ear and she barely contained her shudder.
She turned, finding the mis-matched eyes of the Goblin King looking down at her with delighted amusement. She strapped a little extra steel to her spine and looked him square in the face. "What everyone else is doing, getting drunk and having fun." She snapped, pulling away from him.
"You wouldn't grudge me a dance, would you?" He taunted, hauling her back with the top of her corset. He noticed that the thing did push every asset she had into a more pronounced position. "What's a dance between old friends?"
She swatted his hand away, feeling the deeply seeded flight response in full effect. "I'm not old, and I'd hardly call us friends," she bit out, finally managing to put space between herself and the Goblin Sovereign. Not surprisingly, everyone else had failed to notice they exist. The dirty cheat was probably casting some sort of enchantment or whatnot, so they wouldn't notice when he kidnapped her.
"You wound me..." He stepped towards her, hooking a finger beneath her chin, lifting her defiant eyes to his face. "And after all I did for you?"
She scoffed. "Not more of this alleged generosity again?!" She brushed his hand away.
"You did ask me to take him."
"I didn't ask for the cleaners, or the Bog of Eternal Stench, or the drugged peach, or the humungous, or the goblin army..." She glared at him furiously. "I certainly didn't ask for you to stick me in a room with stairs leading in directions it should be impossible to walk up, while my baby brother tried to climb out a window!"
There was no remorse in his gaze, just that mild amusement. "You asked to run the Labyrinth. I'm afraid the rest comes as a bonus." He waved his hand flippantly, as though it were of little importance.
She sputtered, her fury gripping her. "You arrogant-"
"I prefer 'self-assured'-"
"I always liked 'narcissistic'-"
"How about 'determined'-"
He pondered this for a moment, then shrugged. "I can't argue that."
She sputtered again. "You didn't argue with any of it! You just put different labels on yourself!"
"You seem to have missed several, yourself. Charismatic, attractive, spell-binding, haunting, enchanting? Any of these ring a bell?" He ticked them off on his fingers, deeply amused by her growing fury.
"I already mentioned egomaniacal, no need for you to further prove my point!" She snapped, spinning away from him.
"Does that mean no dance?" He quipped, smirking at her retreating back.
Her response was creative, but anatomically impossible.
He scrubbed the grin off his face, as the din he'd softened renewed with a vengeance. She was going to make him work. Such a pity. He watched her head up the stairs and frowned when she stumbled a bit on the stairs. Something wasn't quite right about that...Not quite right at all.
Her world was dancing.
The sound pulsed against her ears, dreadfully loud, and she was starting to feel weak. Shit. It was like that drugged peach all over again. Something was wrong, dreadfully wrong, and she didn't know what. She felt confused, disoriented. Her mind felt empty.
She pushed open a door, finding a single quiet room. She looked around, bleary-eyed, trying to understand where she was, how she'd gotten there. Her stomach was twisting, turning. She felt sick, so horribly sick. She was going to vomit...
She was going to...
The world went black around her, and she moaned, falling on the soft bed.
She'd disappeared for quite some time. Jareth finally decided it was time to go find her. As he traveled up the stairs, he located a spilled cup, with two white tablets laying against the brim. He reached down, dabbed it with his finger, tasting the substance. His eyes widened and he frowned deeply. How had flunitrazepam gotten into her drink? He knew the drug well, from his trips to the Above. It had been used regularly as a sleeping pill ages ago. Mixing such a thing with alcohol was never good, and if she didn't know it was in her drink...
He swore viciously, standing and moving rapidly through the house. He threw open door, not much caring about the startled shrieks or invitations he received. He reached the last door and noticed it was slightly cracked and there was a wealth of laughter from inside it.
"Bitch..." Came the drunken slur. "You...think you can...tease me and not...get as good as you gave..."
Jareth pushed open the door and found that the word fury was a poor indicator of the sensation that poured through his veins. The young man had stripped her down to her lace intimates, and was pulling himself from his pants. He moved into the room as the man began tugging at her panties. Due to intoxication, the young man's erection was floundering at best. "I wouldn't do that, if I were you..." He said coldly.
The man whirled, suddenly noticing him standing there. "Pr-professor..." He slurred. "You want a helping of this ass, too?"
Jareth watched as the young man slapped her ass and Sarah, who was obviously not in control of any of her faculties flinched, a faint moan leaving her softly parted lips. He took two steps towards the young man, who he identified as Marc by riffling through his drunken brain, and dug two fingers into a particularly sensitive nerve in the young man's shoulder. "You...got drunk...and passed out in the Kitchen." He ordered softly. "You didn't see Sarah. Ever." He dug the fingers in, gratified when the young man whimpered in pain. "You're going to go to the kitchen and drink until you can't remember that the sky is blue." He said in a murderous, crooning voice.
The smell of urine rose to his nose and he released Marc, who stumbled out of the room, a terrified expression on his face. Jareth waved a hand, sending the door closed, save a crack, to filter the stench from the room. He looked towards the girl on the bed, his eyes hungrily feasting upon her. She was lovely, but this was not how he wanted her. Chilled, unwilling, her breathing shallow and weak.
But that didn't mean he couldn't get some...insurance on her. He pulled a crystal from the air, setting it to memorize everything, resting it upon the currents of air. Every curve, every scrap of lace. Gently, he pulled the corset back around her torso, hooking each fastener with loving care. He replaced her panties where they belonged, and eased her pants back up her lovely legs, pressing a kiss upon her bare stomach before going to retrieve her shoes.
He pondered them with a wry smirk. What delightful little toys, he thought, slipping them onto her feet easily, snapping the small strap which he supposed was the illusion of support for her diminutive ankles. With the wave of his hand, he vanished the crystal, and lifted the girl into his arms. A mental directive, and they began to dissolve into the air, leaving only the faintest trail of smoke and glitter in their wake.
He did not, however, notice that only moments after they vanished, two pairs of eyes which were watching from the door turned towards each other and stared in shock. "Did he just-?" Christine whispered.
"Disappear? Yeah, he did." Elizabeth affirmed.
"He took Sarah with him!" It came out with the faintest squeal.
Elizabeth sighed dreamily. "That's so romantic..."
They stood, turning towards their boyfriends, who were currently off searching for their drunk friend, Mark and pouted faintly in discontent. "Wish I knew where he took her..."
Sarah moaned in pain as she woke, finding the blinding light painful to her eyes. "Oh Jesus, Mother Mary and Joseph..." She shielded her face, wondering why the hell she'd neglected to draw her blinds shut the night before.
"Funny, the names you call first thing of a morning..."
The seductive purr of the voice beside her set her teeth on edge and caused her to fall rather gracelessly out of the bed she was on. "Where am I?!" She cried, as lights spun around her, confusing her further. "Chrissy! Beth?!" She called, but there was no answer.
"Relax, precious..." Two strong arms lifted her and she found herself nestled among the warm blankets once again.
"No..." She moaned, shaking her head from side to side. "No..."
Leather clad fingers gently petted her hair. "Shhhh." He crooned softly. "Just close your eyes, Sarah. You are suffering from withdrawal." That soft, gentle voice purred against her ear. "You were drugged, and your body is ridding itself of the toxins."
"You...drugged me...again?" She gasped out, shaking her head. That made no sense.
"Darling, a spell does not cause these same symptoms. Never pain for you, precious. Perhaps amnesia, but never pain..." That gloved hand continued to gently caress her hair and she felt tears fill her eyes.
"Hurts..." She whimpered, clawing at her head. She those faerie lights still zipped around her head and she was getting scared. "Help..." She whispered, shaking her head. "Make it stop..." She felt a spasm work through her body and she arched, a cry leaving her lips.
A blessedly cool cloth rested against her head and she hissed faintly in surprise. "I'll do all I can, darling." That voice and those hands stroked her, soothing her. She knew it was foolish to let this person soothe her. He was horrible, evil, hateful, hurtful. Tears welled in her eyes and she turned her face away.
"Tell the faeries to stop flying around my head..." She whispered, feeling so tired. She wanted so badly to sleep, but her body felt as though it were buzzing, as though it were charged. She shook in pain and fear.
"Darling, they're in your mind, and that, I'm afraid, is a mystery to me..."
Her lower lip trembled and she curled in on herself. "Sleep...want to sleep...want to..." She moaned, barely making sense. She felt a hand gently wrap around hers and she clung to it desperately.
"I know, precious, I know..." That crooning voice said gently. Leather clad fingers caressed her cheek and her eyelids felt heavy. "Just rest, Sarah...I will take care of you."
At the promise, her consciousness slipped through her fingers and she fell once again into the blessed, painless blackness of sleep.
When she woke again, she was laying on her bed, her head and muscles aching, but otherwise fine. She looked around, wide-eyed, wondering how she got there. Her room was empty, her door cracked ever so slightly. She jumped from her bed, burst from her room, finding her roommate sitting on the couch, having dropped her cup of coffee.
"Sarah!" Christine rushed towards her, checking her over. "Girl, where have you been?!"
"What?" She asked weakly, letting her friend support her.
"We've been worried sick! You disappeared from the party, no one knew where you were!" Christine held her arms, searching her face. "Are you okay?!"
Sarah considered that. "What...day is it?" She asked weakly.
"Tuesday..." Christine frowned deeply. "Sarah...You mean you...don't remember?"
Sarah's mind was too busy reeling. "But...the party was Friday." Sarah lifted her face, seeing concern on her friends. "Christine, are you saying I've been missing for three days?"
The girl shifted awkwardly. "I got pretty trashed that night, Sarah. I don't really...remember much, myself. Raoul and Will got Beth and I home Saturday morning, but you weren't here..." Her brow furrowed in concentration. "I think...Professor Tight-pants took you home." She blinked, stunned. "Wait, why don't you remember the past few days?! Beth and I binged, and we still..."
Sarah felt a shudder work through her small frame. "Could you wait five minutes?" She asked weakly. "I need...to get a morning after pill..." Her stomach churned at the thought. She disappeared into her room, ignoring her friends protests. She looked into her mirror, noting that somehow, she'd managed to get into her pajama. She shuddered, changing into some comfortable jeans her favorite Bowie on Tour t-shirt, and a baggy hooded sweatshirt. She pulled the hood up and snatched up her purse. She headed into the living room and couldn't meet Christine's concerned gaze.
Oh god, she'd known better. Her father had pulled her aside and warned her of all the things that can happen to a young woman when away from the safety of her home and parents. She couldn't tell them about this, and desperately hoped no one had reported her missing. She'd taken an open glass from a stranger, but that's the last thing she really remembered clearly. Everything else was a blur of dancing lights and bodies.
"Why do you think his Nibs took me home?" Sarah asked weakly. She tugged at the hem of her sweatshirt, desperately seeking some kind of calm oasis.
"Well...he showed up, and started to get cozy with you. I saw you give Marc the cold shoulder, but I thought..." She covered her mouth. "Oh god, did have sex with him?!" Those words came out in a feverish whisper, which still drew scandalized looks from a few people around him.
"I don't..." Sarah squeezed her eyes shut. "I don't remember. I...don't remember anything." She felt tears pierce her eyes. "I might have been drugged, or something..."
"But that wouldn't wipe three days from existence!" Christine insisted. "You must remember something!"
There was something, but it wasn't a threatening memory. She wouldn't even call it a memory. She remembered feeling safe, protected. Warm. She wasn't about to say that, she'd sound crazy. "I've got nothing, Chrissy. Nothing. It's blank. Three days gone. Just like that."
Christine paled, putting an arm around her as they walked to the nurses office. It being Tuesday, there was not a particularly long line, since most of the people who were afflicted with weekend partying had arrived Sunday and Monday mornings. Sarah walked up to the counter and made her request quietly. She was discretely slipped a pill by the disapproving woman behind the counter. Sarah pretended she didn't notice.
She walked to the nearest water fountain, popped the pill and filled her mouth with water, letting it slide down her throat. She just hoped it wasn't too late. She shuddered in fear. The last thing she needed or wanted right now was a child. And while she was quite certain her Classic Lit. teacher would gladly take the little tyke off her hands, she didn't want to have to deal with the discussion with Karen involving her lack of responsibility.
She shuddered, feeling Christine gently rubbing her shoulder as they walked. "Do you have class today?"
"Yeah. So do you. Today's Literature, remember?"
"Thought that was on Monday..."
"No, his Nibs doesn't take classes on Monday's. Something about a day of rest. Thought that's what Sunday was for."
Sarah scoffed. "The man's evil, he's a walking mockery of the seven heavenly virtues." She muttered. Christine mumbled a soft agreement.
"Brought to Earth to visibly taunt males and females alike." The other girl shuddered slightly. "Those pants, Sarah, those pants."
"I know, I know. It's always about the pants." She felt uncomfortable talking about the man in such a way. Especially since it was his want to pop up unannounced at the most inopportune moments. "I swear, you beat a man at his own game and suddenly he's trying to destroy your life..." She muttered, frowning deeply.
"Sarah, what are you talking about."
"It's...a long story, Chrissy," she finished lamely. "I'll tell you another time, promise."
Her friend faintly grumbled her consent.
They walked into the classroom, and whispers went up. Obviously, her absence had been noticed by more than her friend. She looked around, finding Marc's eyes resting no her with that same unsettling hunger.
"Miss Williams, Miss Bouche, you're a half-hour late."
Sarah swallowed hard at the positively gleeful tone of his voice. She turned slowly, finding Jareth's eyes upon her. "Nurses office," she offered as an explanation.
"Surely you didn't need your friend to walk you to and from the nurses office," She wanted nothing more than to knock that mocking smile from his face.
Christine straightened. "It's called moral support." Her tone was clipped, angry, but only served to amuse the arrogant bastard further.
"Be that as it may..." He rested his hands on his desk, leaning towards them with a predatory grin. Sighs of ecstasy went up around the class. "I've warned you once, Miss Williams, about disrupting my class..." He saw the flicker of fear in her eyes and smirked. "I must request you remain after class is dismissed..."
They moved reluctantly towards their seats, Sarah trembling in fear and exhaustion. She felt like she needed to go back to her room and sleep for a week, but instead, she was going to have to stay for a little private chat with her, she gulped, instructor. Christine gave her a parting pat on the shoulder, and they sank into their respective chairs.
Class drug on, Sarah finding herself under the unnervingly intense gaze of one Goblin King more often than made her comfortable. Especially since he was wearing this particularly pleased smirk. Rather like a cat that had cornered a particularly tasty bird. And she had the feeling she was that bird.
Finally, a mind numbing two hours later, he stood, moving toward the door and held it open, watching the students filing out. Sarah attempted to sneak out with Christine and Elizabeth, but apparently the Sovereign was prepared for such a trick and she felt his hand around her elbow before she managed to duck out the door. Marc was the last one to leave, and he slapped her ass rather hard on the way out. Sarah didn't think. Her reaction was immediate and swift. She grabbed the offending hand, twisted it at the wrist and pinned him against the wall, breathing heavily in fury.
Jareth stood back, watching in amusement.
"If you ever touch me like that again," she said in a cold, impersonal tone. "I will rip your hand off and feed it to you." She had the intense pleasure of watching him pale several shades, and when she released him, he ran from the room. She cheered mentally for her victory, but the sound of applause brought her out of her mental happy dance. She turned slowly, dread creeping into her brain.
He leaned against the blackboard, wearing an expression of intense amusement. "Quite impressive, precious, how you gutted him without actually causing permanent damage."
She watched him wave his hand and the door shut beside her. She jumped, looking up at him, eyes wide in fear.
He scoffed. "Don't look at me as if I'm some monster." He saw her about to object and arched an eyebrow. "In reality you should be kneeling in thanks." He waved his hand, calling in a crystal, gave it a shake and pictures scattered across the floor. "Heaven knows what would happen if these lovely things fell into the wrong hands."
She didn't like his leading tone. She knelt, about to look at the picture, but they vanished and when she looked up, they were in Jareth's grip. She sat the amusement in his eyes and he hid his wolfish smile behind the Polaroids, but before she could say a word, he turned them towards himself. "Truly, Sarah, I realize in the Underground getting so drunk you pass out is perfectly acceptable at your age, but things work a little different in the Above..." He turned one and she saw herself dancing, glass of beer raised above her head as she swayed in time with the music.
He studied that one for a long moment. "Imagine what would happen if this wound up on the Dean of Students desk! Why you might even get expelled from the school..." He saw the fear and dread on her face and smirked.
"You would really completely destroy my life here?!" She screeched in disbelief. She took several deep, calming breaths. She wouldn't cry in front of him, dammit.
"Or heaven forbid this one should wind up in your step-mother's possession." He turned another, and she found herself staring at her mostly naked form, wearing only that racy strapless bra, underwear tugged down to her knees.
She closed her eyes, turning her face away from him. "What the hell do you want from me, Goblin King?!" She whispered fiercely.
His eyes sharpened, noting that she'd finally pinpointed the game and was going to play. Good. He smirked, moving towards her. "Well, Sarah, since I find myself on a vacation in the Above, without the usual comforts of home-" he smirked when she choked on the word 'comforts'. "I'm in need of a," his voice trailed off a bit as he pinned her with his gaze. "Personal slave."
She choked. "Oh, no. Hell no! I'm not going to sign myself over to you for any length of time! Not my body, not my soul, not even my time outside of this-"
He waved the photos in front of her face. The two he'd shown her weren't the only incriminating ones. She swore viciously. There were at least eighteen little scraps of paper of her at that party. Time she couldn't remember. She bit her lip to keep the sob in her throat from escaping. "Wh-what will this entail?" She hated herself for the way her voice broke.
"Simple, you clean my apartment, wash my laundry, prepare my meals." He saw her begin to relax and saw a smirk turn up her own lips.
"You, the Goblin King, want me to cook for you?" Suddenly, this deal didn't seem so bad.
"The requirements are: It must be edible, and non-poisonous." He said, his tone amused.
She straightened, her eyes looking up at him, seeing the challenge. "How long?"
"For the duration of my stay, naturally. Vacations will be worked around." He glanced at the calendar. "Roughly the next two semesters."
She arched an eyebrow, a wicked thought in her head. If he could survive her cooking for two semesters, she would be highly impressed. Besides, maybe she could work this to her advantage. He obviously had been there when she'd been drugged.
AN: Sarah goes from be a splendid cook in one story to being the worst one in the world. She has to get revenge on Jareth some way. Anywho, I'll probably be continuing this, and posting it on under my other name, and on as well as . Yes, that means this will likely have some of that adult-type touching we all love. I know I'm horrible for having Sarah drugged, but everyone will get what's coming to them. Trust me. Vengeance will be Sarah's.