A/N: I honestly have no idea what possessed me to write this. I had at one time thought writing a Labyrinth/Death Note crossover would be cool but I had given up on that when I realize it was almost impossible. Apparently, I was wrong. Or maybe I'm just losing it.

Either way, I hope you enjoy.

**

She met him at a party.

At first, she thought he was a homeless man who'd wandered in after noticing all the lights and just sat down on the couch trying to blend in. Given his appearance, that was very possible.

He was probably the thinnest, most unkempt looking man she'd ever seen. His plain white shirt looked as though it had not been washed in months and looked several sizes too big for him, as did his ratty old jeans. His raven black hair was unbrushed and probably knotted, his skin pale as a ghost. Not to mention the pair of sunglasses covering his eyes, as if he didn't even realize that he was indoors and didn't need them.

Sarah didn't even bother asking around to see if anyone knew him. He sat all alone, not once did anyone approach or acknowledge him. Though she noticed people quicken their pace when they passed him, almost like he exhibited some kind of aura that scared them away.

It didn't scare Sarah though, rather, it made her curious.

Sarah had earned a reputation for being 'undateable', which really meant, 'unpleaseable' when one thought about it. Especially now that she was grown and living in Los Angeles working as an actress, she had requests for dates almost daily. It wasn't that she was a snob or a tease, not at all. To be fair, she did give the boys brave enough to ask her out a chance, it wasn't her fault that they never lived up to her expectations.

Of course, Sarah knew she'd be hard pressed to find someone who did, at least in this world. No, the man she had in mind had no equal. It was strange really that after eight years she would still pine for him, especially considering she had never gotten up the courage to call him, and he never seemed to make any attempts to reach out to her. For all Sarah knew, he could have been married to a fae woman, had some kids of his own. Perhaps he never even loved her, maybe the Goblin King falling in love with the girl really was just part of the story and he really was the evil King she had believed him to be so long ago. Either way, if he was still wondering what her basis for comparison was, he had his answer.

She had long ago made peace with the fact that, while many of the boys she'd met were nice, they could never live up to her standards. No one ever would until she threw her fears and inhibitions aside and just made the call.

Sarah had already turned down three dance requests when she saw him, all alone, seeming to stare blankly at the wall in front of him (speculation of course seeing as it was hard to tell just where he was looking with the sunglasses he wore). She observed him silently for the next few minutes and not once did he make a move. He had no drink, no cigarette in his hand. He was just there, further cementing in her head that he had not been invited.

This made her curiosity grow where her sense of danger should have kicked in, telling her to run fast in the other direction. Instead her feet moved forward.

One step.

Two steps.

She stopped.

Sarah suddenly realized what she was doing. Approaching a complete stranger who could potentially harm her. She shook her head to clear the insane thoughts from her mind. It was doubtful someone like him could live up to her expectations anyway. While she admitted he was somewhat attractive in a messy sort of way, he was not even close to the unnatural beauty the Goblin King possessed.

Still, the thoughts persisted. She felt an almost overwhelming need to keep walking, to get closer to him. Sarah looked around and considered her options, it wasn't like she could just walk over and start a conversation with him. Even though she hated to admit it, Sarah got painfully shy around strangers.

Instead, she decided to simply walk by him. Only once, just to see what would happen. Not that it would really succeed in getting his attention, she realized. Plenty of other partygoers had already passed him in search of a refill or their friends, and not once did he bat an eyelash (again, speculation only).

Sarah pushed her way through the horde of bodies on the dance floor, ignoring several attempts by her friends to get her attention and now stood across the room. She saw his silhouette on the couch, still as unmoving as ever. Sarah brushed a few stray strands of black hair out of her face and took a deep breath.

Her legs seemed to move of their own accord, first slow, her nervousness clear with every step. Then she became more bold as she quickened her pace. Her eyes stared straight ahead, intent on not looking at him directly. Her full attenion though remained on the little bit of him she could see out of the corner of her eye as she approached.

It seemed like hours before she was walking past the couch. His unmoving form showed no indication that he even knew she was coming. Still, he would see her in the few seconds when she was directly in front of him. Perhaps his eyes would just see through her like they did with everyone else in the room, but still she kept moving.

And then, she was there. For a split second, she thought of stopping, even though she knew it was crazy. How subtle could she be if she just stood in front of him, gawking without saying a word? So she moved on, without even a glance in his direction.

"Are you having fun?"

Sarah stopped. His voice was ice, chilling her to the very core. Her posture remained stiff for several seconds, unsure of whether or not she had really heard that or if she'd just imagined it. Slowly, she turned and saw that for the first time that night, the man had moved.

Rather, his head had, and it was now turned towards her. His shade covered eyes on her slightly trembling form.

It was just as Sarah predicted. The man gave of such a powerful energy, not a good kind either. It was dark, malicious, perhaps even evil.

And she couldn't look away.

"W-what?" Was all she could say.

His expression did not change, "Are you having fun?"

His words held just as much ice as before, and Sarah almost felt like shivering from the cold feeling in her stomach.

"I-" She had no idea how to answer, "I- I guess."

"Really?" He asked, "Because I noticed you come in here before with a group of your friends. They've been out dancing this whole time. You however,"

Sarah watched in silence as he slowly lifted his thumb and brought it to his lips.

"…have remained all by yourself, staring at me nonetheless…I can't help but wonder why."

Sarah bit her lip. So he had noticed her watching, God she must look like some kind of freak to him. Then she realized he was watching her expectantly, waiting her to answer his unformed question.

"I-" What was it about this man that flustered her so, she wondered, "I don't…I don't know. You just seemed…"

When she trailed of, he appeared to raise an eyebrow. Sarah began to feel a bit frustrated, wondering just why he felt the need to wear those sunglasses. It was almost like he was hiding from someone, trying to hide his appearance no matter how cliché and likely ineffective the method.

"…interesting." She finally managed to finish.

'It's true,' Sarah mentally conceded, 'but he's clearly no Jareth.'

Awkward silence filled the air, but only Sarah seemed at a loss for words. The black haired man remained completely stoic.

"What's your name?" Sarah finally asked, mostly for the sake of ending the silence than actually wanting to know (even though, as she soon realized, she really did).

He lightly bit down on his thumb and regarded her silently for a moment. Then he did something completely unexpected, he stood up.

Sarah fought the urge to jump back. She noticed now that he was rather tall. With his shirt fully hanging off him, he seemed even thinner than she'd originally thought. He advanced slowly, and Sarah couldn't bring herself to back away. She had only done this because she was curious, maybe even a little bored. Now however, she could feel fear in the pit of her stomach. This man, he was frightening, there was something very wrong with him. Sarah knew that, she didn't know how, but she knew.

Which must have meant something was also wrong with her, because when he quietly made his way past her and headed for the door…she followed.

**

"I knew you would follow me."

That was the first thing he said once they were outside and alone. Sarah had expected to see several couples making out under the moonlight, but the parking area was completely empty, save for her and this strange man.

All of Sarah's better judgment told her to run. This wasn't right, he wasn't right. But the curiosity, the sheer need to know who this man was, it overthrew all other judgment. Because she just had to know what kind of man could intrigue her as much, if not more than the Goblin King had.

"Why did you bring me here then?" She found herself asking.

He looked at her and smirked. It was the most frightening smile she had ever seen, and she was so busy staring at his face that she hardly noticed the glittering object he now held in his hand until she felt the cold metal press against her throat, and a surprisingly strong arm wrap around her waist.

Suddenly, her curiosity and intrigue vanished to make room for the horrible fear. So strong was it, she couldn't scream even if she wanted to, but after the situation sunk in, she found she didn't really want to.

The fear was fleeting, soon replaced by the familiar sense of wonder that had led her to follow the now clearly insane young man.

"If you're intending to rape me or kill me, this isn't a very good place to do it." She was surprised by the lack of a stutter when she spoke, "If I scream, someone inside will hear me."

"That's only if you live long enough…" He replied ominously, "There are plenty of major arteries I can cut that would kill you before you even hit the ground."

Her eyes remained on the tinted plastic covering his. His words penetrated her mind and she knew they were true, but still, she couldn't bring herself to be scared. There may very well be something really wrong with her.

"Lucky for you though," The man suddenly said, "I have no intention to either kill or rape you, especially not the raping, it's such a dirty thing to do to someone. There's only one person I would ever consider forcing myself on…and he's not here unfortunately…but that's not important right now."

Sarah did not know how to answer that.

"No…to be honest, I brought you here because…you are also interesting. I know something happened to you, something…out of the ordinary, am I right?"

She stared at him, "I…" Her mouth suddenly felt dry, "I…What's your name?"

He smirked again, though only slightly this time, "I'll take that as a yes. I don't really care what happened to you, so you don't have to explain. I suppose I just wondered what kind of a person you were having lived through it…whatever it was."

She had to say something, she realized. Anything. Anything at all!

"What-" She began but quickly stopped herself, she couldn't ask that again, "What…Why do you wear those sunglasses?"

His eyes, even though she couldn't see them, appeared to examine her. Slowly, he drew his arm from her body and, without removing the knife so to discourage her from running (not that she would have). He raised his arm again until they lightly gripped the rim of his shades. He removed them after only a moment, and she could see his eyes were closed.

She also took note of the dark bags under them. He probably hadn't slept in weeks. When his eyes opened, Sarah gasped. Her hands shook, and she tried to no avail to calm herself.

'No…that's impossible…he must be wearing contacts…' It was an obvious explanation. There was no natural way a human being could possess red eyes. Not tired eyes or pink eye, but literally red, like blood.

He appeared to read her mind, "No, they are not contacts Sarah."

At that, she shook with fear anew, "How- how do you know my name?"

That smirk again, "It's all in the eyes Miss Williams."

"I don't understand."

He clicked his tongue, "Well if you must know, I can see your name and your lifespan. It's right there, in big letters right above your head."

Instinctively, she looked up, seeing nothing. He chuckle rang in her ears.

"Don't bother, you can't see it. Not with those eyes." He informed her, "I can tell you though that you will have quite a long life…so long as no other event such as this is to occur. Now I have only one question for you Miss Sarah Williams."

She remained silent, waiting for him to speak.

"Why?"

Her face faltered, in her confusion she realized that she'd forgotten the knife still pressed to her throat, and decided she'd better answer quick in case he decided to push it in a little further. He may have said he wouldn't kill her, but anyone who said that they could tell a person's name and when they'll die just by looking at them, had to be dangerously insane.

So why did she find herself believing him?

"Why what?" She asked.

His eyes bore into hers, "Why…do I interest you?"

Sarah was shocked by the question, because she herself was unsure. He was not Jareth, he would never do this to her; even if he really was the villain of the story, he had never threatened her life. Not like this man who's name he wouldn't even tell her after she asked twice. Of course, he may just be doing that so she couldn't give the police anymore clues to his identity than she was already capable of. Then again, he didn't seem the type to worry about such things, and part of Sarah knew she wouldn't be calling the police anyway.

"Why do I interest you?"

A small sound emitted from Sarah's throat as he pushed the knife harder, just enough to cause fear and discomfort, but not enough to actually break the skin.

"I believe I've already answered that." He responded, and went on at her confused look, "As I said, you have a very long lifespan…much longer than a human's should be…I suppose that's a side effect of your little…supernatural encounter."

For the first time, Sarah's eyes focused on a point away from his bloody eyes as she wonder what that meant. Had the underground actually done something to her? Made her lifespan longer? What about Toby, had his changed as well?

She glanced back at her captor and found him waiting, and she knew just what for.

It led her once again to wonder why. Why was he intriguing to her? Why was some random bum at a party, one who'd turned out to be a homicidal maniac, still so interesting to her even now?

She noticed a small trail of blood dripping down her neck from the now bleeding wound; deftly registered the twinges of pain and realized:

Because she felt alive again, that's why.

She'd heard before that pain was just a reminder that one is alive. Now she knew it was true. Her life…her family…every good or bad thing that ever happened to her…it all seemed like nothing compared to this. This and the Labyrinth.

It was no wonder why she wanted Jareth so much after only knowing him for a short time. She had no idea what the Labyrinth had in store for her. After Jareth sent the cleaners after her and Hoggle, she had begun to fear for her life. If he could do something like that just to frighten her, perhaps then he really was capable of killing her if things didn't go his way.

Obviously, he wouldn't have, she knew that now. This man however, she didn't know. He said he wouldn't kill her, but he could be lying, and the blade had already drawn blood. And now, in this moment, with this man she didn't even know holding her life in his hands…she felt more alive than ever before.

So, in a bizarre way, Jareth could not compare to this man.

Part of Sarah felt she should be worried about her apparently masochistic thoughts, but at the moment she did not care.

"I'm interested, because…" She trailed off, searching for the right words, "…you terrify me…and I like it."

His gaze turned hard, but not in an angry way. She couldn't really describe it, but she knew it should have scared her.

He brought his face closer to hers, and she could now smell a potent odor of Strawberry Jam, she imagined he'd eaten a whole jar of it recently.

"Sarah…" His voice was low now. The last time someone said her name like that…didn't feel nearly as arousing as this.

Her lips puckered slightly, expecting him to claim them with his own, but instead he drew back and pulled the knife away. She let out a long exhale, then noticed he hadn't removed her from his grasp.

"Sarah…" He repeated, "…you're bleeding."

Confused, the brunette looked down at the blood now almost covering her neck. She glanced back up at him.

"I noticed." She answered truthfully.

He gazed at her briefly and then lowered his head. Sarah did not know what he was doing until something hot and moist began making it's way up from the top of her breast to the cut. She gasped when his tongue trailed across the knife mark making it sting.

All too soon, he lifted his head again. He licked his lips and stared deep into her green eyes.

"Have you ever tasted blood?" He asked her.

Without even waiting for a response, he latched his lips onto hers and forced his tongue into her mouth. He tasted metallic, and also a little sweet, like a strawberry. A moan caught in her throat as she relaxed against him and kissed back. He did not make any noise, simply pulled her closer against him. Suddenly, he withdrew his tongue and bit down hard on her lip, making her gasp in pain and pleasure. She could almost feel his crazed smile.

Sarah's insides seemed to explode at his touch. It was not a loving embrace. She knew she could never love this man and he could not love her, but she could be thrilled by him, as much as or, dare she say it, even more than she could ever be with Jareth.

Finally, they had to stop for air. Sarah breathed in, her adrenaline levels falling back down to normal. That kiss was the single most incredible moment of her relatively short life.

When she looked in his red eyes again, she asked for a third time:

"What's your name?"

This time, he smiled, but again he did not answer. Instead, he stared at her neck, at the cut he had made and appeared deep in thought.

"That cut won't scar." He absently informed her.

Now Sarah was confused, her expression silently asking where he was going with this. Her answer came in the form of a swift movement of his arm and the hot, searing pain that followed.

Sarah screamed, both from the pain of the gash on her chest and the shock when he suddenly let go and allowed her to fall to the ground.

Once she'd composed herself, Sarah gazed at the man who had awakened so many dormant emotions in her. Once again, the sunglasses were in place, which saddened her somehow.

"That one will." He deadpanned, but smirked viciously, "Just think of it as something to remember me by."

With that, he turned and began walking away. Sarah stared after him, her hand pressed on the wound and now covered in her own red blood. Her mouth ajar, her eyes glassy and staring, watching him leave her.

He took three steps…and stopped. Turning back around, his eyes met hers one last time.

"Just call me…Ryuzaki."

**

No one asked about the scar. Her friends may have wanted to, but one look at her face was enough to convince them not to. When Sarah went home to visit her family, her father also wanted to ask, but like the others, he refrained. Toby was too young to understand or even notice, and Karen…well she just didn't care.

One day a few weeks later, a report on the news announced that the serial killer who'd been terrorizing L.A. had been captured. Somehow, Sarah was not surprised when his face appeared on the screen, nor that the name flashing under it was completely different than the one he gave her.

That morning, like many others after the incident, she had toast with strawberry jam for breakfast. And when she finished and went to clear her plate, she noticed in the fruit basket on her kitchen table, were two fresh, ripe, red apples. She picked up one and examined it. Light shone on the delicious looking fruit from out the window. Sarah briefly wondered if, should she take the other apple and hold them only a small way's apart from each other…would they look like his eyes?

Without looking away from the apple in her hand, she reached for the other one, and instead grabbed a much softer object.

Her brow furrowed as she brought it into view, and she almost had to laugh at the irony.

A peach.

Slowly, she place the fruits next to each other on the table. She lifted an elbow onto the hard surface and used her hand to support her head. With the other one she lightly traced the scar that ran from the top of her neck to just above her breast as she stared at the apple. Until her gaze moved to peach, and she wondered…

How would he really compare?