Here it is: the first ever Labyrinth/Smut Court/X-Men crossover! Yay! ^_^ I've taken extreme liberties with a few characters. Don't bother asking who is who just yet, because that's coming in just a chapter or two. Also, not all of the Smut Court is introduced in this chapter, so please be patient. All inquiries can either be directed to me (and left in my inbox for a couple weeks) or Dee, because she was intrumental in helping me brainstorm this. (Love ya, wench!)

PROLOGUE

Somewhere in the United States . . .

. . . a young girl is on the run . . .

. . . she is pursued by an angry mob, all of them screaming for her death .
. .

“She’s one of them!”

“Kill her!”

“She’s a freak!”

“Kill her!”

“She’s a mutant!”

“Kill her!”

“Mutie scum!”

“KILL HER!”

The girl runs for almost a mile, her sides aching, until finally, she
collapses in an alleyway, out of breath and out of hope.

The mob advances on her.

And then, something happens.

Plants grow, in an alley where the sun never shines, where the only water
is stale beer and urine, and where plants should not even be *able* to grow.

But they do. They form a wall between the girl and the angry mob. Thorny
bushes and thick branches block the townspeople from reaching her.

Exhausted, the girl with pale green hair begins to cry, curling up into a
little ball, in an alleyway corner, the air around her thick with hatred and
fear.

“I can help you,” a voice whispers in the air.

“What?” She looks up. There is no one there. The mob is behind her barrier,
silent for now, but restless. Soon, they might decide to just burn down the
plants. And then what would she do?

“Make a vine grow right up the side of the building, and then you could
climb to safety,” the voice promptly answers her thoughts. It is definitely
male, but seems to come from nowhere and everywhere at once.

The plants in front of her begin to smoke. They have been set on fire. It’s
only a matter of time, now, before they burn away.

“Who’s there?” she whispers, her vibrant green eyes shimmering wetly.

“I am.”

She gasps in terror as a hand clamps down on her shoulder. She whirls
around, and looks up . . .

“My name is Jareth. I am the Goblin King. I can help you.” He reaches down,
and with one finger, delicately brushes the tears from her eyes. “I can take
you away from this awful place. Would you like that?”

The plants are crumbling, the barrier falling away.

“Wh - where would I go?”

“Underground.” He glances over her shoulder, and without another word,
raises one hand.

The mob surges forward, expecting to find the girl cowering in fear. They
stop, and look around in confusion.

She is gone.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~

CHAPTER ONE

It is a place where the landscape is challenging, where the only course to safety is a trek through a wild and untamed labyrinth, where nothing is what is seems, and one can make three left turns and still be going to the left . . .

. . . It is UNDERGROUND.

A brief flash of white light, and the girl with green hair - Christy - and Jareth - the Goblin King - were far away from the angry mob. As soon as they ‘landed,’ Christy promptly turned to the man wearing a black cape and impressive black costume.

“Where are we?” she demanded.

“You, my dear, are *home*,” he said with a crooked smile. “For this *will* be your home, as long as you care to stay.”

“I didn’t agree to this!” she declared angrily. Jareth took a step back. This was not the meek little girl he had just rescued. “I never said I wanted to come to - this - *place*!” She turned on him, her fist raised, as the scent of lilacs and roses fills the air.

Jareth took another step back, and delicately stomped down the vines that were growing around his feet. “Would you rather I returned you? Sent you back into the ‘tender’ care of that mob? Well?”

She turned her head away, her green hair *swooshing* lightly against her white shirt. “No,” she whispered at last.

“All right, then,” he replied. “Come and meet the others, then.”

“Others?” Christy asked.

A spurt of silver flame suddenly licked away at the vegetation behind the Goblin King.

“Look out!” Christy yelled.

Jareth turned around, and with a flick of the risk, a crystal appeared on his palm. He threw it, and the fire was extinguished.

“Perhaps we’ll let *them* come to *us* then,” he replied sardonically.

Christy nodded mutely, but he continued.

“I have found . . . others like you, by using a device I created myself. I call it Crystalo, and it can detect the unique energy signatures of mutants, like yourself. I have gathered the more powerful of these mutants, here, in my land, the Underground.”

“Underground,” Christy whispered, looking at the cloudless sky with wonder.

“I train them,” he continued. “But they also spar against themselves, as we just had demonstrated to us.” He waved a hand at the remains of the bush. “Would you be so kind?” he asked.

“I guess,” she replied. Christy slowly put one hand toward the ruined bush. Quickly, it regenerated itself, sprouting new leaves and flowers.

“Beautiful work, my child,” Jareth replied benevolently.

Christy punched him in the arm.

“OW!”

“In *case* you didn’t notice, I’m *not* exactly a child,” she said through gritted teeth.

“Point taken,” he muttered, rubbing his wounded pride.

“INCOMING!” yelled a new voice, seeming to come out of thin air.

“Watch out!” Jareth yelled, producing a crystal, and enlarging it to encompass himself and Christy. He did so just in time, for a short girl with blond hair came crashing through the newly-restored vegetation.

Silver fire followed in her wake.

“Missed me!” she yelled triumphantly, standing beside Jareth.

“Christy, this is -”

“Not for long!” the other voice returned. A living column of flame appeared in the sky. The form of a girl could almost be made out inside. She raised one fiery hand, pulled it back, and then hurled silver flame balls at the blonde girl, who ducked out of the way, barely in time.

“You singed me! DIE!” she screamed, throwing back some flame balls of her own.

“HA! You can’t hurt me with - WOAH!” the silver girl was suddenly encased in a large crystal.

“Ahem. *Girls*,” Jareth interjected. “I would like you to stop fighting for just one minute and say hello to Christy.” He clasped an arm around her shoulders. She pushed it off with a look of disgust. “She’ll be joining us.”

“Hi, Christy! I’m the Silver Torch!” the girl in the crystal waved cheerfully. “As you can tell, I have, like, silver fire powers!”

“I’m the Mimic Mistress,” the blonde offered. “The name says it all. I already know what your power is, by the way.” She held out one hand, and a daisy sprouted from the ground. “This kicks ass!”

Jareth shot her a deadly look. “I ought to kick *your* -”

“Jareth! You’re back!” a new female voice called out.

“’Row! Come over here and meet someone!” the Mimic Mistress called.

Pushing through the bushes was a strange woman. Her skin was pink, she had red eyes and hair, and she wore a red corset with a short matching skirt. She came to stand in front of Christy.

“Hello,” she offered, holding out a hand. Her fingernails were painted bright red, with pink hearts in the middle of each one.

“You . . . you have pink skin,” Christy muttered in shock.

“You have green hair,” the Mimic Mistress shot back. “So get over it and shake her hand.” Christy complied, and instantly felt the urge to grab the Goblin King and head off into the bushes with him. She was about to wrap her arms around him when the red woman dropped her hand.

“Oops. Sorry about that. It’s all the excitement of your day, dear,” she whispered confidentially. “Your lust levels are quite high.”

“We call her Cupid’s Arrow, and she has just demonstrated her powers to you,” Jareth explained. “She’s quite . . . powerful, actually, and will only become more so with time.”

Cupid’s Arrow winked, and sashayed away.

“So,” Jareth turned to Christy. “Ready to meet a few more?” There was a mischievous twinkle in his eye.

“I - yes,” she replied, resolving to put up a brave front.

“Then, shall we?” he asked. With a wave of his hand, the four mutants were transported to . . .

. . . The heart of the Escher Room.

It looked like a battle had been going on for quite some time.

“Get down from there! Fight like a woman!”

“Wench!”

“Get off me! Uncle! UNCLE!”

“Grow some balls, boy, and quit ye’re whinin’!”

“MEOW!”

“Fear me, love me, do as I say, and -”

“The only thing I’ll do is fear you - and that’s only because you’re making me! Turn it OFF, Dom!”

Christy’s head was swimming. There were about ten mutants, all of them battling each other. Only two seemed to be working together, although they punctuated their fighting with friendly barbs thrown back and forth.

“You fight like a girl.”

“Wench!”

“Ooh! Good comeback! I’m shaking in my boots!”

“I give you a shaking, all right -”

With that, the girl in black leather hurled the ‘wench’ into the wall. The wall was suddenly no longer there, though, and the other girl in black leather landed ‘gently’ on top of another mutant.

“Watch it!”

She snorted. “Get out of my way next time!”

Christy tried to follow the actions of everyone at once, but soon gave it up as hopeless after a few minutes.

“See that girl there?” Jareth asked, his breath hot on the back of her neck. He pointed to yet another girl dressed to kill in head-to-toe black leather, although she was wearing thick, black-framed glasses. She looked rather dorky.

“She is my second-in-command. We call her Prodigy, and even I do not know her real name, or her origin. She has super intelligence - she’s most likely the smartest human alive.” Christy looked in awe as Prodigy stood her own against a tentacled male mutant - the only male, it seemed. Even though he repeatedly attacked her, she seemed to have the luck of a goddess, and escaped his clutches every time.

“Who is *that*?” Christy whispered.

“Fingerman,” Mimic Mistress answered, creating a miniature garden in the Escher room. “Your power kicks *so* much -”

“Undergroundlings! Assemble!” Jareth roared over the din.

With a swiftness Christy didn’t think was possible, everyone was lined up in a precise formation.

“Hiya, Kingy!” a cat-like woman purred, bounding down the steps and sidling up to Jareth. “Where have you -”

“Get back in line, Frisky.”

“Don’t get yer tights in a twist, boy!”

Jareth fixed her with a deadly glare.

“I’m going, I’m going!”

“Everyone, this is Christy,” he began, pulling her closer and laying a more-than-friendly hand on her shoulder. She threw it off and pinched his arm. Two of the black-leather babes giggled, until Jareth glared them into silence. “She will be joining us. I expect you all to treat her as one of your own.”

“What’s her power?” a new voice asked. Christy stared in amazement as a girl with wings flewup to scrutinize her closely.

Mimic Mistress smiled widely. “It kicks -”

“She can create plant life anywhere she wishes,” Jareth explained, clamping a gloved hand over the blonde girl’s mouth. He let go when she bit his fingers. “Also, I believe that one day she’ll be able to fly.”

“Fly?” Christy edamazed.

“Fly, like me!” a girl in black leather with short spiky hair cried, and suddenly she was airborne.

“Bah! You aren’t flying! You’re just levitating!” another girl, this one with a ponytail of hair down to the floor, snapped back. Christy recognized them as the two who seemed to be fighting together earlier, then turned on each other.

“Everyone! Please!” Jareth called out, rubbing his temple with one hand as though he had an incredible headache. “Let me just get these damn introductions over with -”

“Roll call!” Mimic Mistress cried.

“I’m Frisky!” the cat-like woman purred, scratching behind one ear. She was wearing what looked like a striped bikini.

“I’m the Fingerman!” the sole male of the group stepped forward, his tentacles waving gently. He wore futuristic glasses and a metallic suit.

The fairy-like girl hovering in front of Christy floated to the ground, admist a cloud of sparkly dust. “I’m Pixie!” she said, giggling and scurrying away.

“I am called Purity,” a woman with long green hair and jade-coloured eyes said, as she bowed her head and smoothed her long pale green robe.

“You’ve already met Arrow, Silver Torch, and Mimic Mistress,” Jareth interjected. “And I’ve pointed out Prodigy to you.” Prodigy grinned and adjusted her glasses. “All that is left are . . . those . . . three.” Jareth cleared his throat pointedly. The last three Undergroundlings, all wearing black leather, with various accessories, turned their heads as one to face Christy. None of them spoke. Jareth cleared his throat again.

“Why is it that I can never shut you heathens up, yet when it is appropiate for you to open your mouths, you refuse?” he asked with a sigh.

“It’s just too easy to torment him, isn’t it, girls?” the levitating one taunted, grinning. “Oh, alright, then, I’m Renegade.” She pointed to the girl about her own age who had hair to the floor and startling black eyes without irises. “That is Dream Maker. Her power sucks.” She then pointed to the last girl in black leather, who had metal chains wrapped around her body and carried a deadly whip, which she snapped at the mention of her name. “*She* is the Dominatrix. Her power sucks marginally less than Maker’s does.” Both girls turned on Renegade and bared their fangs.

“I’ll show you how much my power ‘sucks,’” Dream Maker threatened. Renegade promptly passed out, a blissful smile on her face.

Christy gasped. “What did she -”

“Turn it off,” Jareth growled, grabbing the girl’s arm and twisting it painfully. “I’ve told you all many times that we do *not* use our powers against each other, except in training!”

Dream Maker reluctantly nodded, and Renegade instantly openned her eyes.

“WENCH!”

“Stop,” Jareth commanded. He turned to Christy. “Well, welcome to your new home!” She glanced around at the faces of all these new, powerful mutants. She promptly passed out.