Xander, Willow and the Cleveland Hellmouth belong to Joss Whedon. The Labyrinth and Jareth belong to Jim Henson may he rest in peace. The idea belongs to me, with a lot of help from cold medicine. Want to run with it? Go for it, just let me know.
"I wish the goblins would come and take you away . . . right now."
Willow's voice echoed in Xander's ears, they'd fought, again. Xander had feared they would drift apart once she started college; but this? She knew better than to say the W- word, especially now the first Christmas, um make that holiday, after Sunnydale's destruction, and Kennedy's death, so much like Tara's the year before. She said he wasn't being sensitive enough, not listening to her. Guess the Cleveland Hellmouth has a sense of humor too.
Xander looked at the walls beside him, a corridor which seemed to stretch on to eternity, filled with dead and dying plants, muttering to himself. "Like I didn't lose anybody? She's all about her pain, but what about mine? I lost Anya, and Spike. . . I even lost my bloody eye, but no, had to go and make a wish. On the Hellmouth. Could things get any worse?"
"Well, well, what have we here," Xander spun to see who the voice came from. A man stood there, hair spiked and glittering, a smile on his face which seemed at once menacing and amused. "I don't believe I've ever had an adult wished away to me before."
"We can just forget the whole W-word thing. I'm friends with the Slayer- actually the slayers now, but I was there before most of them, and they've beaten bigger bads than you."
Jareth arched an eyebrow, "I'm sure. Which is no doubt why you're here." He disappeared, and echoing behind him was the whisper that sent shivers up Xander's spine " . . but the question is, will you want them to?"