IrishCreme writes:

IrishCreme’s aqua-blue eyes were glued to the monitor. Not by choice, mind you, but by trance. She had just finished reading all 20 messages she had received from the Labyrinth fan-fic mailing list that day and replying to those that required it. Her eyes couldn’t move from the screen because she had become hypnotized. God, I spend more time at this computer than I do in bed, she thought painfully, finally able to pull away from her computer.

IrishCreme stood and stretched her aching muscles, walking in circles before returning to her computer chair. She had read so many wonderful stories just that day, not to mention those archived in Amethyst’s site. She too had submitted material for posting and had received very good responses to her fiction. It warmed her Irish faerie heart to know that the other Labyrinthians enjoyed reading her work and sometimes asked for more. She certainly relished every tale she came by but always wondered, What happens to all this fan fiction? Is it just archived by the wonderful, talented and beautiful Lady Amethyst [brownie points**brownie points**brownie points]? Or does something special and magical betide this special and magical writing?

IrishCreme sigh heavily, wanting so much more for the manuscripts she cherished. "I wish I knew what happened to all the Labyrinth fan fiction."

Suddenly, all the lights in her room went out, except for the light of her monitor. The wind outside whipped violently against her bedroom windows, and tree branches tap-a-tap-tapped on the glass. The whole scene was just a bit eerie for IrishCreme, and she sat perfectly still in her chair, frozen in anticipation.

"I can answer that question for you," said a deep, accented voice from behind her.

No, no, no, IrishCreme thought, shaking her head in disbelief. I am imagining all this. Too much time on the computer. Yes, I am imagining this, and when I turn around, Jareth will not be sitting on my bed. She slowly swung her swivel chair around, the creaking of the joints adding more creepiness to the situation. Her bright eyes opened widely when she perceived the Goblin King reclining on her medievally canopied bed.

"Don’t seem so surprised, IrishCreme," he stated playfully, that ever-present sexy grin playing upon his handsome face. "You always knew deep down inside that I really existed." He pushed himself off her bed and pulled a chair beside IrishCreme, turning her to face the computer.

The screen showed Netscape Mail, no messages had appeared since she had checked before the "visitation." Her breathing was returning to normal and her heartbeat was slowing, but her hormones, on the other hand, were running rampant. "Why are you here?"

"To answer your question, of course," Jareth answered, touching her perky nose with an index finger. "What happens to the Labyrinth fan fiction? Well, my dearest IrishCreme, it lives on in the Underground."

"What?" Her expression reflected her confusion.

"You see, darling, every time an idea pops into a Labyrinthian’s head and he or she begins a story, that story comes to life in my world. Every character comes alive, every action is carried out and every word is spoken, just as it happens in print."

"But so many tales are going on at the same time, most of them involving you. How can you do them all at once?"

Jareth laughed heartily. "It’s not easy to explain. Things don’t work the same Underground as they do here. Just suffice it to say that every work from a Labyrinthian’s mind is taken care of."

Questions were still racing through her cluttered brain. "But what about the stories involving list members? Do they go Underground as well?"

"Why don’t you ask Afton, Amethyst, spOOky or any of the others. They can tell you of their experiences."

IrishCreme was dumbfounded. She stared in Jareth’s direction but not at him. He waved his hand before her glazed eyes, snapping his fingers occasionally. She blinked her lids rapidly, as if blinded by a bright light, and gradually regained her composure, as well as her feisty attitude. "So, which story do you like best?"

"Ah, so there’s the question." Jareth put his chin in the palm of his hand and drummed his fingers against his cheek. "Which one do I like best…hmmmm…that’s tough one. I’d have to say…all of them!"

"Oh, Jareth, that’s not fair!" IrishCreme exclaimed, instantly regretting spurting out the taboo line. "Oops! That’s not what I meant. I really meant—"

"Oh, don’t worry, my little faerie. I’m not going to summon the cleaners or anything of that nature," he reassured, his tone mischievous yet sincere. He caressed her smooth cheek. "I would never do anything to harm my faithful ones."

IrishCreme was undaunted by Jareth’s charm. "You need to answer my question more concisely, your majesty, so I will rephrase: I realize that your like all the Labyrinth fan fiction that has been created, but which stories stick out in your mind as being especially…memorable?"

The Goblin King leaned back in the chair and contemplated IrishCreme and her question. "Well, Afton and her friends really drove me up the wall with their antics. I think the Fireys are still angry. spOOky's Poe is quite a character. I really like him, even though he tries too hard to be like me sometimes. Amethyst introduced me to some of the most interesting people in her saga. That was quite a ride. I’m still deciding whether or not I like Dreamspinner’s idea of pairing me with a cat. It’s funny, but that cat sheds like crazy. There are many others that touch my heart, but of course, I can’t leave out Celeste, now can I? I imagine Celeste as being an extension of you, my lovely IrishCreme. Could I be correct?"

IrishCreme smiled coyly at Jareth. "I’m not saying. My creations are not subject to discussion with you."

"Oh, but dearest, I do so love discussing things with you." Jareth wrapped a strand of IrishCreme’s flaming red hair around his finger.

She gently slapped his hand away. "Puh-lease! What do you want from me that you’re being so sweet and bewitching?"

Jareth grinned devilishly (what other way can he grin?) and answered, "I would like to know when you are going to scribe yourself into one of your captivating tales? I anxiously await your arrival in the Underground."

IrishCreme smiled provocatively and clicked out of Netscape Mail and into a new Microsoft Word document. "Well, I don’t know, Jareth. I guess you’ll just have to wait and see!"

*************************

Dreamspinner writes:

Dreamspinner sat at her computer and pondered IrishCreme's message.

"Well- it is entirely possible." she said to herself.

"Of course it is, you of all people should know that." came a gentle, but chiding voice from behind her. Dreamspinner spun around and ended up nose-to-nose with the infamous goblin king. "Oh, my!" she nearly jumped out of the seat, "What on earth are you doing here- you should be safely behind the labyrinth walls!" she said, reaching for something to defend herself with.

"But I thought we were friends, hmmm?" he all but purred.

"Okay. Fine. But if you are here, that means Gwydion could be here too, and my present husband would not like seeing a duplicate of himself... One of him is enough, thank you." she said primly. Jareth threw his head back and laughed heartily at that. After he stopped laughing he said, "Oh, thank you for getting rid of the cat- I do realize it was not your intention to have anyone think that I tried to mate with it- I don't know why they'd think that..." he trailed off quite indignant, then turned to look in her large blue-green eyes, "I hope you will keep your dreams alive, they are very important. But you know that. I do enjoy our talks in your cottage."

"So glad you approve," Dreamspinner spat out the sarcastic retort.

"I see we are a bit miffed?" he said as an ironic smile twisted his mouth.

"Wouldn't you be? You're not supposed to do things like this! I didn't make a wish. I wouldn't." her ire was raised, and she pouted at him. She turned around and sulked for a bit, then turned back and looked him in the eye,"What game are you playing now, Jareth?" she asked him softly. He gently turned her back around so she was facing her computer monitor.

"Don't worry so much little one. It was not my intention to upset you." he said softly, looking at her in apology,"and no- you don't need a valium. I'm really here." he said as he noticed her looking at the bathroom door,"you create worlds for others, but can't traverse them yourself? Come now- what kind of thinking is that." he tutted at her.

"Jareth, I don't think I need to tell you what's going on here. I can't fly anymore. My wings are gone- broken."

"So you paint wings for others to soar with. I see..." he arched an eyebrow.

"Please don't do this to me."

"Why don't you do as you dream?"

"Don't quote the Neverending story!" she glared at him. It seemed that they were at an impasse. He knelt down beside her and glanced at her worriedly. "You're not going to write about me anymore?"

"I like Gwydion much better." she said flatly.

"I'm sure you do. You were there when you wrote that, didn't you guess? You even heard the music. Don't run away from dreamtime, or from me, for that matter. I find it most fitting that you chose the Lord of the Hunt for your husband." he wasn't sarcastic- he was serious. Dreamspinner was quite taken aback. So she did what she always did when he came for a visit- asked him if he wanted a glass of mead. He accepted and they talked abit, till he announced that there were others on his list for visitations that night. "Go on- get!" she said as she made to shoo him out of the house. He smiled at her, and opened his arms to receive a hug. Dreamspinner hugged him fiercely, her tears burning his chest. He wiped a few of her tears away, stepped back and looked at her sadly, holding her by the sholders. "I would change it if I could," he said softly. "I know," she said. He gently kissed her cheek ...and with that, he was gone.

*************************

IrishCreme writes:

I turned off my computer and crawled into my soft, comfortable bed. As sleep descended upon me, I yawned, mumbling something about buying fish the next day for my daughter. Before my eyes could close, Jareth appeared, sitting at the foot of my bed.

"You rang, IrishCreme?"

His silky voice startled me. "What are you doing here? I didn't call you."

"Yes, you did. You said 'I wish,'" Jareth returned, smiling coyly.

"I said, 'Buy fish,' you idiot, not 'I wish!'" I slipped out of bed and stood before the overly handsome and overly annoying Goblin King. "I call on you once, and now you jump at any chance to come here. You'd think there was nothing for you to do Underground. Next time, listen more carefully before popping into me bedroom."

Jareth was quite astounded by IrishCreme's verbal attack. "I'm very sorry for disturbing you, dear. It certainly won't happen again...unwarranted, that is. But since I'm here...when are you coming Underground?"

"ARRGGHH!!" she exclaimed, stomping her feet like a spoiled child. "Stop asking me that!" IrishCreme saw the pitiful look on Jareth's face and regretted yelling at him. "Look, I e-mailed Afton about writing me into One Awesome Night--"

"Oh, I like that one," Jareth interrupted.

"Ahem," IrishCreme coughed irritably. "As I was saying...I sent her my bio so that she could put me in the story, so you'll have to talk to her about it. But if you don't stop bugging me, I'll tell her to leave me out and I'll never go Underground."

"Alright, alright." Jareth upheld his hands in surrender. "I'll only come when invited from now on...I promise."

"Alright, then. Thank you very much." Jareth got up to leave. "Well, wait a minute, Jareth. Since you're already here..."

"Yes?" he raised an eyebrow.

IrishCreme smiled kittenishly. "I'm working on something else and I'd like your opinion." She went to her computer and started booting up. "Do you mind?"

"Certainly not," he answered, taking a seat next to IrishCreme. "Let's take a look..."