It had been years, but somehow he still found her.

In sleep, she could never escape the Labyrinth. The walls, never ending, twisted and turned around her for miles, more barren than they had ever been in life, and she could not find her way out. No, she could never escape. But then again, why would she want to?

Turning a corner, movements ever so slow in sleep, she somehow knew he would be there. He stood before her, just as she had remembered him, pale skin bathed in moonlight... Jareth. Just as haughty, just as imperious as ever, sharp features scrutinizing her with the steady gaze of a raptor. A soft night breeze teased the strands of platinum blonde that framed his face, wild like a lion's mane. Wild. Yes, that was the way to describe him. The Goblin King was wild.

It was in the thin sensuality of his lips, the intensity of his unique eyes, in the way every line of his body was etched with predatory tension and grace as he prowled toward her. Slipping a gloved hand over her cheek, he compelled her eyes to close with barely a touch. And then the hand slipped over her neck, forcing her back against the unforgiving stone wall. His lips pressed against hers, bruising and hungry, and his tongue stroked into her mouth with a possessive, demanding rhythm. A satin-sweet whimper pulled from her throat, the mewling of a kitten, and he groaned, a low rumbling growl that vibrated under her hands on his chest.

And as his hand skimmed up her ribcage, touch burning through the thin gossamer fabric of the gown she wore... Sarah woke up. With a cry of frustration she pressed the cool pillow to her flushed face, her expression distorted into one of agonized longing.

Every night - every night, for a month, this had happened. He walked in her dreams, and slowly drove her mad.

She turned on her side, ignoring the throbbing heat and her body's insistence that she deal with the matter herself. As her eyes focused in the dim light, she blinked, not trusting her vision. There, on the nightstand, was a round crystal - a glimmering orb, the Goblin King's favorite toy.

Bastard. He was toying with her.

"Go to hell, Jareth." She snarled, deliberately closing her eyes against the vision of the crystal. If it was still there in the morning, then she would know she was truly losing her mind.

The touch of leather against her neck was cool, whisper-soft, but she still felt it. His scent, something spicy and earthy and distinctly fey, wrapped around her and a low, seductive purr whispered into her ear, his lips brushing her skin.

"Don't be so vulgar, Sarah. One would think you didn't miss me at all."

Lashes fluttered, her eyes snapped open again, to be met with those familiar mismatched orbs, the brush of platinum hair against her cheek. She breathed softly, hardly daring to speak, and his name came out in a sigh. "Jareth?"

He smirked at her. "In the flesh."

"What took you so damn long?" She twined her limbs around the Goblin King and brought him down to her level, welcoming his lithe weight. Yes, this was much better, indeed.