She bit her lip and resisted the urge, the need to rub her thighs together and attempt to relieve some of the pressure building there. It was all his fault. Him in his tight pants, with his gorgeous face and his hands. His talented, talented hands that at that moment were bare, an occurrence that rarely happened, and one of those hands held his crop, which he was flicking against his own thigh as his mismatched eyes raked over her body, like he was trying to decide where he should apply the sting of leather first.

And he was.

"Jareth," she growled out at last. "If you don't do something, I am going to steal your riding crop and start using it myself!"

The smirked his sexiest smirk, the one that said he might actually not mind all that much if she decided to spank him with his own crop, and chuckled low in his chest.

"As you wish, Sarah," he crooned, lowering himself over her on the bed, holding himself up with one arm while his other hand trailed the end of his crop up her thigh slowly, giving her plenty of time to steal it from him just as she had promised.

The crop was out of his hand and lashing across his rear in an instant, causing him to catch his breath as he instinctively pulled away from the pain – thrusting against her in the same motion, which in turn brought forth a moan of pleasure before he lifted himself back again.

"As I wish," Sarah said, annunciating each word before striking him with the crop again.

Gasp and thrust, moan and retreat.

"Yes," Jareth answered her. "Anything you want Sarah."

"I want you out of those pants," she ordered sharply, then struck him again.

Gasp and thrust, moan and retreat.

Jareth lifted one of his hands and with a wave the pants were gone, making him as naked as her at last.

"Anything," he breathed again, lowering his face to her ear and beginning to kiss her neck softly.

Sarah hummed in appreciation and lifted a leg so that her calf rested by Jareth's hip, then struck him again with the crop.

Gasp and thrust, moan, shudder, fall forward and moan again.

Sarah hummed in satisfaction and trailed her hand up his back. "Make love to your wife," she ordered softly into his pointed ear.


Morticia and Ophelia were twins, Ophelia the elder by only five – painful – minutes. Their faces were the same, but their colouring was different. Ophelia had inherited her father's blond hair and mismatched blue-hazel eyes, while Morticia her mother's ebony tresses and grey-green colouring. They did, however, both inherit their mother's type of hair, that is to say, tameable.

As children of the goblin king, they were taught politics, magic, lore and weaponry. As the children of Sarah Williams, they were taught the arts as well as all that, and a number of perfectly sensible things like mathematics and languages.

To their father's unending amusement, the girls were fond of exhibiting in public the sort of 'deviant' tendencies their mother kept confined to the bedroom. Oh, nothing scandalous or that would have him castrating young men for touching his darling girls, but they had a somewhat skewed idea of what, in the realms of pleasure and pain, counted as normal.

Sarah changed her name from Williams to Frump upon marrying her goblin king, for the sake of not being so easily found or sought out in the Aboveground. Jareth wasn't overly fond of the name, but allowed it as it had helped keep the men away from his precious daughters. It was an easy enough name to look over in the college the girls chose to attend when they were old enough.

But then Gomez Addams had come into the picture.


"Tish," Sarah said firmly, "do I even want to know what you were doing on the continent?"

Morticia smiled coyly at her mother. "Playing at being a Black Widow, but without the weddings," she said. "Gomez is the first man whose ever measured up to father's standard, and mine."

Gomez was at that moment being 'tested' by Jareth, to see if he was worthy of the king's little princess. Trial by combat and then there would be the goblin version of the Spanish Inquisition.

Ophelia giggled. "Does he whip you?" she asked eagerly.

"He does," Morticia answered happily. "But only when I ask him to, and he's just as thrilled to have me whip him. His whole family is so wonderfully divergent from the norm. Maybe there's one in the Addams family for you too Ophelia!"

Ophelia pouted. "If the Addams tastes are to pale brunettes with mysterious graces then I somehow doubt it," she said. "You're the prettier one of us Tish, and I know it."

"Oh, Ophelia!" Morticia objected, wrapping her arms around her older twin sister. "I'm not! I just took make-up lessons from Father instead of Mother," she said, smiling a little at her mother as she made the tease.

Sarah sighed. "Yes alright, your father is more attractive than me and you both outshine your poor old mother," she said, sitting down on Ophelia's other side. "Do you want to holiday on the continent for a while to find somebody Ophi? Somehow Tish found an American there who she thinks is perfect, maybe you'll find your Mr. Right as well."

Ophelia nodded. "I think I'd like that," she admitted.

"But not until after I marry my Addams," Morticia insisted. "It will be wonderful. A winter wedding with skeletons making up the arbour and you simply must meet the rest of his family!"

Sarah and Ophelia laughed in delight at Morticia's joy. She'd always been such a restrained child, it was refreshing to see her actually excited about something.

Jareth arrived at that moment with Gomez beside him.

"Father?" Morticia asked, hopefully.

Jareth smirked. "He'll do just fine," he answered.

A grin burst onto Gomez's face – he hadn't been told if he'd passed muster until that moment either.

"Thank you Father!" Morticia said, rising from the couch beside her sister and running to her future husband's arms.


Ophelia was staying with her uncle, Toby Evans (he'd changed his name from Williams as well), when it happened: the house was completely destroyed, they were killed, and to top it all off, they'd died moments before an owl came bearing the unfortunate news that their younger daughter and her husband had just been killed, leaving their son an orphan.

"Oh dear," Ophelia said to herself as she read the letter. "Mother will not be pleased. She's ever so fond of Uncle Toby. Oh what would Father do?" Ophelia asked herself, pacing back and forth. "Well if the baby were wished away he'd take him of course, but Father can only take wished-away children. Okay, what would Mother do?" Ophelia asked, turning in her pacing. "Make sure the baby is alright, and if he isn't then she'd get legal custody. Yes, that is what I'll do! Morticia married a lawyer, he can help too!"


Rather than Ophelia though, it was Sarah who went to collect the babe from the Dursley household, though there had been a few phone calls in the between time and Sarah had cried for the loss of her little brother. Now, she was going to collect her grand-nephew.

"A-Aunt Sarah," Petunia stuttered when she opened the door.

"Hello Petunia," Sarah answered. "How are you?"

"W-well enough," the woman responded. "W-what are you doing here?"
Sarah arched an eyebrow delicately, just as she had learned to from her husband. "I heard my brother died," she answered. "I came for the funeral and to see about his belongings. I heard Lily and her husband died as well, so I thought I'd look into that too. Imagine my surprise when I find that somehow everything has found its way into your possession. May I come in?"

"Y-yes A-Aunt Sarah. O-of course."

"Thank you Petunia," Sarah said with a graceful nod as she entered the house past her niece. The glamour that made her look her age dropped as soon as the door closed. One of the perks to being the woman the goblin king was in love with and had married. "I see you have become quite the home maker. Are you happy with this life that you've chosen?"

"O-of course I am A-Aunt Sarah."

Sarah turned and smiled at her last living niece. "There's really no need to be so nervous with me Pet. Let's just get this done shall we? I expect I'll cry over Toby dying a few times more before I leave."

Petunia returned a very tentative smile to her aunt and led the way to the attic where everything had been stored in trunks – a number of them magical trunks with expansion charms and feather-weight spells on them. Once Sarah had called some goblins to take the trunks to the castle beyond the goblin city, Petunia fetched Lily's baby, Harry.

Sarah couldn't take the child to the Underground, it was against the rules for Aboveground children to be in the Underground without having been wished there. Harry would be staying with his second-cousin Morticia and her new family. Pugsley would no doubt enjoy having a little playmate.


"Damn you Jareth," Sarah growled as she woke up in her bed, the one in her father's house in New England. She was nineteen. "Dreams like that should be against the rules!"

Soft, low laughter came from her window. Sarah bolted up in shock and locked eyes with the goblin king himself as he just sat there, draped handsomely over her window-ledge.

"Who says it was just a dream Sarah?" he asked. "It can become real, if you want it to be."

"Toby was dead at the end of that dream!" Sarah growled.

"Not before he got to see his grandchildren," Jareth countered gently, comfortingly. "Please Sarah?"

"Dreams like that should still be against the rules," she grumbled, even as her eyes trailed over his handsome form.

Jareth shook his head. "Prophetic dreaming," he said. "I'm required to send at least one properly prophetic dream to the Aboveground every year. It doesn't have to be to the person relevant in the dream. Please Sarah? I'd do anything for you, anything you want."

Sarah groaned softly, thumping her head into her pillow so that she wasn't looking at him any more. Him in his sinfully tight pants and the shirt that was almost completely open and with his ...riding crop beating softly against his boots. She could hear the soft thap sound of leather on leather. She looked up. He hadn't had it a moment ago. Damn him, again!

"The whole dream can come true?" she asked. "Our daughters, Toby having two girls of his own in England, grandchildren, all of it?"

"All of it," Jareth promised, a purr to his voice as he stood from the window-ledge and practically stalked over to her. "All of it and a whole lot more. Prophetic dreams do tend to miss out on a few details after all."

"As long as the first detail was right," Sarah grumbled, blushing red.

Jareth grinned before calming his features and sitting near her on the edge of her bed. "Sarah, will you be mine?"

Sarah huffed, pouted, then smiled at him. "My king," she said, completely possessive as she wrapped her arms around him and snuggled into his side.

"My queen," he answered, just as possessive, wrapping his arms around her and bending slightly to kiss her lips, plundering her mouth thoroughly.

She just smiled and pulled him closer. It seemed that she had a wonderful life to look forward to after all, and just when she'd been worried about what she was going to do now that school was over.

~The End~