Jareth waltzes back into the living room with a smile, having checked on a most definitely sleeping Toby for at least the third time since their return. The exhausted babysitters are long gone now, and the equally exhausted Goblin King doesn't want the lad waking up and creeping downstairs to witness something he shouldn't. Lovely Sarah has had more than her share of pleasure for one night, if her earlier moans were anything to go by, but it always pays to be prepared for round two, just in case. He sees her, sitting in the glow of a warm fire, bundled up in countless blankets, and she's just as lovely in profile as she was laid out on her back for him in all that pure white snow. It's so easy to imagine walking in on such a perfect, innocent scene, Above or Underground, for the rest of his days. When she glances over her shoulder at him and grins, Jareth knows once and for all that his heart is truly lost to the woman.

"Still sleeping?" she asks.

He nods, unable to tell her that in that one simple moment, she's managed to render him speechless. Surely, it can't be healthy to feel so much for another, but then he remembers her earlier words, and the spark he has seen in her eyes – that flash of what he knows to be love – and it sets his wavering smile to rights again. He isn't foolish enough to declare all those silly words of love that reside within his chest – at least not until he hears them from her lips first – but he knows he can't go on just looking at her all night. As always, he knows a little flirting, a little teasing will be enough to make him feel in control again. He strokes his thumb along her cheek and the bow of her mouth, feeling her smile. Her lips purse as she presses a kiss to the tip.

"T'was the night before Christmas," Jareth begins, "and all through the abode, not a creature was stirring, not even a To…by."

Sarah tilts her head back further, only to roll those alluring green eyes at him. "That rhyme is reaching a little, don't you think?"

"Hush and let me finish. It gets quite filthy, I promise." He pecks a kiss to her forehead before rounding the overstuffed sofa to join her, slinging an arm around her shoulders in the process. He has no reservations now about drawing her closer and stealing his share of the blankets as he continues with his adaptation.

"The king shoed his subjects from the house with great care,

Whilst dear Sarah awaited him just down the stair.

Under all of those blankets, so soft and so sweet,

The king couldn't imagine a more luscious treat.

Undeterred by a couch instead of a bed,

He had lots of most wicked thoughts in his head.

A dark urge to touch, the need to behold her,

To have those pale thighs wrapped tight 'round his shoulders …"

He lets his voice grow louder – as loud as he dares, anyhow – gaining more and more dramatic flair with each ridiculous line, before he finally cracks her.

"With a lick of his lips, and his grin oh so merry,

He trails his hot kisses down over her belly.

Sweet Sarah begs 'More!' as she spreads her legs wide,

She welcomes him: 'Oh, Jareth, do come inside!'

As for what happens next, well, I hate to be blunt,

But the Goblin King buried his tongue in her-"

Sarah laughs and smacks his arm. "You're a jerk."

He touches his palm to his chest, as if wounded. "I thought you'd find my little poem quite profound – moving, even. I know I felt a definite stirring … here, I'll even let you check." Smirking now, he takes hold of her wrist and urges her hand into a suggestive trail downward towards his belt.

Still laughing, she snatches back her hand before he can direct it anywhere truly interesting. "Definite jerk."

"Mmm … is that an offer I hear?"

As easy as it would be to throw her beneath him after deflecting the playful kick she aims at his shin, he settles for pulling her tight against his hip. He rests his chin atop her head and sighs at the sweet smell of her hair. It's hard to recall the last time he has felt so content, his mind and body sleepy and sated, full of warmth. Everything he could ever dream of wanting is right there within his reach, wrapped up in his arms at long last.

Despite all their sexual intimacy, despite the fact that they've managed to fall asleep together, they've never truly taken the time to 'cuddle' like this before, and the whole scenario is making his heart beat in that frankly alarming way again. Part of him wants to think it's the lingering excitement of their earlier encounter; certainly, there's a degree of smugness when he recalls all of the wonderful ways he's been inside this woman, but he knows deep down that it can't account for for the merry rhythm of his heart. Making Sarah smile really is as nice as making her come, he's discovering, and he wants to spend years, decades, perhaps even a near-immortal lifetime doing both. Tucked into their warm nest, curled up in soft blankets, plump cushions, and each other, the Goblin King thinks that he's never felt more at home. He could be sweet to her, he knows, and could spend the rest of their time together loving her enough for her to never regret being foolish enough to choose him. If, one day, she could possibly be ready … if he could ever be ready to finally take a queen to rule by his side …

He would consider no other.

"All joking aside … you're going to stick around after Toby's wish is granted, right?" she asks in a soft voice that holds all the power to pull him out of his thoughts. "I don't just mean tonight. He likes you, you know … a lot … and, well … we both like you … and I'd kinda like to give this a try around the whole … um … king thing … somehow. If that's … if it's something you want to try, too …?"

Outside of the warm glow of passion, the sentiment strikes him that much harder. It really hits him, then, just how new this business of love is to both of them. Two souls, each normally so strong, so certain, made to doubt and worry over everything, all because of what beats and grows within their hearts. When one cares so much for a person, their smallest gesture is scrutinised from all directions, analysed past the point of sense, wrung dry of every possible meaning. Hearts, fragile things as they are, can be built up or broken over the smallest misinterpreted word. The strange thing is, the further he allows himself to fall for this particular person, the less all of those concerns are starting to matter to him. All that matters is being with her, loving her in all ways, and far beyond sense, or meaning. He has never allowed himself to be weak for anyone before, and yet for her, he's willing to try.

His bold champion has never before been afraid to look him in the eye, but she doesn't even have to turn her head to have him under her spell. His chest swells as he squeezes her tighter. "More than anything," he says, and that's the end of it. He feels the relief in her body as it nestles into his, the gratitude in her embrace as she hugs him closer. The future, whatever form it might take, will come for them in time, but for the present, right here and right now, they both choose to stay perfectly still.

The seams of Jareth's heart are tested again when she finally falls asleep in his embrace, and he has to drag himself away from her. The presents are all laid out beneath the tree, and she has the warmth of her blankets and the comfort of her dreams. She's tired from their lovemaking and satisfied in her sleep, knowing that after the past few busy days, she has done everything within her mortal power to give her brother the best Christmas he could ask for. Jareth wants nothing more than to join her in rest, but for him there is still work to do: one last monumental act of magic he must perform before the night is over. It's the season for miracles, or at least overblown, theatrical gestures of romance, after all. As much as he wants to dazzle her with his abilities, he thinks moving the stars just for love might be a step too far, so early in their courtship. The simple shifting of a few troublesome meteorological patterns, however …

Stepping out into the cold night air, he suppresses his shivers for long enough to set the world around him to rights. Though that rush of magic exhausts him, leaves him shaking and cursing every cold rush of air as it knifes its way through his body, he finds he has just enough strength to stagger back to his warm nest – back to her.

Christmas morning dawns, and with its pale light comes the thundering of small feet, and jarring squawks of excitement. Disoriented and bleary-eyed, Jareth is convinced for a moment that he's back in the Underground, sighing his weary acceptance as the customary sea of goblins flood into the banquet hall for their breakfast. After an all-too-brief respite, hidden behind the heels of his hands, he remembers the chain of events leading up to this rude awakening. An ecstatic Toby comes into focus – thankfully before the overworked Goblin King makes a snap decision to send the early morning intruder straight to the Bog.

It helps more than a little when Sarah, still tangled up in blankets, her dark hair tousled from sleep, manifests out of the haze like some sleep-deprived angel.

"What time is it?" she asks as she paws at each eye.

"Christmas time! Merry Christmas, you guys, hey, it's Christmas!" Toby's ear-splitting cry, though somewhat ambiguous in regards to the actual hour of the day, quiets any further attempt at protest.

Jareth remains resolute in his quest to stay warm and snug beneath the blankets, even if he won't be allowed to go back to sleep. With weariness weighing down his bones, he's willing to die still sitting on that couch, if need be. Sarah gives his thigh an affectionate squeeze as they both watch Toby dive into his pile of presents, the two of them murmuring words of encouragement every now and again. Jareth has to admit, even as he stifles a yawn, there are far worse places to be. His lips curl into a sleepy smile as he realises that, in all the excitement, both Toby and Sarah have neglected to pull the curtains aside to glance outside.

The telephone starts to ring just as Toby has finished unwrapping a Scalextric set, and is demanding that Jareth take part in the first of what is sure to be numerous hundred-lap races. Making use of the distraction, he shushes the lad into a slightly lower decibel of squawking while Sarah finally extricates herself from their warm blanket nest. She snatches up the handset after just a few more rings and brings it to her ear.

"Hello? Oh, hi, Dad! Merry Christmas! Yeah, we're fine. Yeah, Toby's knee-deep in gift wrap as we speak. I can get him to come talk to you if you … huh? No, I haven't seen the news, why? No, we haven't even … uh, just a sec."

With the phone still clutched to her ear, Sarah stretches the cord to within an inch of its life as she crosses the room, and finally pulls open the living room curtains.

"What the …? The snow is … yeah, it's completely gone here, too! But last night it was … I don't even know how!" A smile spreads across her face and she laughs in disbelief. "You mean you managed to … oh, wow! I haven't even gotten dinner started yet! What time does your flight land? Oh, that gives me lots of time. Sure, we can eat a little later, that's no problem at all. Just warn Irene that my stuffing is coming out of a box." She listens and laughs again. "Yeah, well even if she teaches me, I'm not doing this every year. Oh, this is great! Um, just another second, okay?" She leans away from the receiver. "Hey, Tobes, guess who managed to book a last-minute flight? Guess who's going to be home for Christmas after all?"

The young boy's eyes light up at once. "Dad! Mom!"

He scrambles up from all the boxes and scattered scraps of brightly-coloured paper, all gifts forgotten as he races over to take the phone. Jareth grins at the way the lad can hardly stand still as he speaks to his parents, the tails of his pyjama shirt flapping as he bounces on the ball of first one foot, and then the other. Amused as he is by watching Toby's little performance, it takes Jareth a moment to realise that he, too, is being watched. When he turns his head, he sees Sarah standing just a few steps away, a knowing smile on her lips. As she comes closer, he notices a glow in her eyes that the scant morning light can't account for. Before he can question her on it, however, she bends down to him, and her lips are pressed against his in a soft, sweet kiss. With Toby still tied up with his phone conversation, neither of them are in any hurry to break that kiss.

"Not that I'm complaining, but … what was that for?" Jareth asks at last.

Sarah smiles down at him. "The best, most thoughtful Christmas present Toby and I could ask for – and don't even think of lying to try and make it seem like you had nothing to do with it. I know what you did. Thank you."

Resigned, he grins and pulls her down for another kiss. "You don't have to thank me. I wanted to … for both of you."

"It means a lot." She stays in his arms as she gazes up at him, and lowers her voice so that only he can hear her. "You know, if you hadn't spent the whole of last night fucking me into next week, I'd say you were going soft, Goblin King."

He huffs out a laugh. "I'm never soft for long when I'm around you, love."

She presses another brief kiss to his mouth and whispers against his lips. "Well, see if you can keep it in your pants long enough for Toby to finish opening his presents, okay? Speaking of which …"

Breaking away from him, she moves over to the tree, presenting him with the same perfect view of her bottom that started all this as she reaches under the thick branches. When she emerges, she has a bulky package in her arms – one of the many gaily-wrapped gifts that he assumed were for Toby.

"This is from me," she says with a smile, "and this is from Toby – with permission from Santa Claus, of course." She dumps the wrapped present into his arms, and then slips a small white envelope into his hand.

"So this is what you were sneaking around doing after you'd talked Toby and I into that second fizzy monstrosity you call soda. How very crafty of you."

Sarah only laughs. "Just open them."

"Why, thank you …" Jareth can't remember the last time someone has given him something so simple as a present, outside of the formal gifts offered on behalf of the neighbouring kingdoms. The smile that creeps across his face is quite idiotic, he's sure, as he settles himself back on the couch to unwrap them. He slits open the envelope first, finding a thin card inside, and a hearty laugh bursts from his chest as he recognises the logo emblazoned across the plastic. It's for the cookie store inside that godforsaken mall's busy food court – a memento of the one moment of happiness he managed to find on their hellish day of shopping. He assumes the card might be traded for more of the sweet treats, and thinks he could be tempted into a return visit after all. "Thank you, Toby," he says, offering the boy a smile. "This is a truly excellent gift."

Toby, who by then has ended his phone call and is edging his way back towards the rest of his presents, only blushes and grins.

Sarah gives him a smile of encouragement as he turns his attention to his second gift. Jareth tears into the wrapping paper in what he hopes is a slightly more restrained manner than young Toby has displayed so far, but he's curious to see what Sarah has in store for him. He finds a pair of black winter gloves, a set of thick socks, and a three-pack of men's thermal leggings.

"I saw how much you've been … struggling in the cold for me … uh … for us, I mean, and I wanted to help out. I … that is, Toby and I … want you to spend more time here, and I don't want you to have to suffer for it. We don't need any precious areas getting frostbite. That wouldn't be fun for either of us," she says, with a slightly sheepish grin.

He smiles back at her, amused and yet genuinely touched. Of course she would see through all of his bravado, and yet allow him to maintain his dignity. "Very thoughtful, love. Thank you."

They share another kiss, and when Sarah is certain her brother is wrapped up in his unwrapping, she slips a small, pink card into his palm. "And then there's … this."

Jareth glances down at this curious gift. It's made of the same plastic as his new cookie card, but this time he does not recognise the store name written across it. "Victoria's Secret," he reads. When he looks back up to question Sarah on exactly what that secret might be, she has the naughtiest smile on her lips.

"I was thinking that sometime after Christmas, we could go pick out a gift for both of us. Would you like that?"

"Oh, yes," he answers at once, and vows to send a team of his bravest goblins to track down this mysterious Victoria herself for answers, if they have to. He wants to be fully prepared for whatever adventure Sarah has in mind.

The two of them meet in a longer, sweeter kiss, ever mindful of the young boy they still share a room with. What small passion they manage to kindle between them is soon extinguished, however, as Jareth pulls back with a gasp. The most awful realisation has struck him, and even in all of his years as a stony-faced monarch, he can't hide his dismay.

With all of his work to provide the perfect Christmas, in all of his efforts to appear nonchalant in the face of his growing affections, he has forgotten the simple act of preparing a gift for the one woman who means more to him than anything. He has nothing in store, not even a single present for her to unwrap on this day of giving, when she has already given him so much. He curses himself for spending so much time thinking with one head, while completely losing the other.

His horror must be plain, because she's cupping his cheek, concern rife in her green eyes as she asks him what's wrong. He can't very well tell her that everything is, in fact, wrong.

Toby's gift is easy enough to think of, given his fascination with all things goblin; just another wrapped present is quickly magicked onto the pile with all the rest while the lad isn't looking. Sarah's absent gift, however, is another matter entirely. He could conjure up a token bauble, a necklace perhaps, but he knows it would hold no real meaning, no heartfelt sentiment beneath the trinket's glister. Once again, Sarah has managed to defeat him – this time with no more than a kiss and a little thermal clothing.

"Sarah," he begins, with a nervous glance downwards that only curses him with a glimpse of his empty hands. "I don't know how to tell you this-"

A heavy knock at the front door means he doesn't have to. Sarah turns in surprise. "Dad and Irene won't be home for hours. You didn't invite Hoggle and the gang over, did you?"

Though it's clear she's joking, Jareth's lips purse in distaste. He follows close behind as Sarah goes to answer the door, refusing to give in to the need to place a protective hand on her shoulder. A scowl darkens his expression as the door swings open to reveal a strangely familiar sight.

"You." Jareth steps forward at once, giving in to his baser, defensive instincts after all.

The man standing at Sarah's door, where he has no reason nor right to be, is the one from the park – the one who virtually assaulted her with his clumsiness. He's still wearing his old red parka and heavy black boots, but the colours seem brighter, cleaner, somehow. Even his white hair and beard seem to have regained their lustre, layered onto his round, pink face like freshly-fallen snow. He looks almost jolly, in much better health than Jareth had first seen him, but as far as the Goblin King is concerned, he's still a strange and unwelcome guest.

"Can we help you?" Sarah asks, calm and polite as ever.

"Actually, I was hoping to help you." The man reaches into his pocket, possibly for some kind of weapon, and Jareth tenses and pulls Sarah closer, ready to thrust her behind him at a moment's notice. He relaxes only marginally when instead of a blade, the man produces a tiny blue jewellery box. "Your fella there, he dropped this back at the park, and I've been trying to track him down ever since." A merry chuckle escapes the man as he turns his gaze to Jareth. "If you don't mind me saying so, son, you're a slippery bugger to catch. I've been everywhere trying to track you down. Almost got you mixed up with some English guy with a similar face. Nice fella, though – had me in to meet the missus over a cup of tea. Lovely couple – just as nice as you two. Anyway, my boy, this is yours."

Utterly perplexed, Jareth almost flinches back as the cheerful stranger offers him the box. He's never seen it before in his life. Perceptive as he is, he can feel the strange magic of the moment curling around him, drawing him in. He can feel there's nothing malicious there, and in light of his dwindling reservations, his protest is much weaker than he wants it to be. "That … isn't mine."

Undeterred, the old man winks and taps the side of his nose with a knowing smile. "Ah, of course, of course." He beams as he holds out the gift to Sarah instead. "It's meant for you."

Sarah reaches out, almost in slow motion, to accept the box. She, too, it seems, has been drawn in, warmed by that good, white magic, accepting despite the strangeness of the situation. "Thank you … thanks so much for returning it." She clasps the small gift in both hands and smiles at the kind stranger. "Would you like to come in out of the cold for a while? We don't have tea, but I could make you coffee, or maybe a hot chocolate …?"

The old man laughs to himself, one hand pressed to his substantial belly. "Oh, that's all right, missy, you don't need to go and do that. Besides, there'll be hell to pay if I'm late to Cousin Nick's Christmas party again. His wife makes the best sugar cookies you've ever tasted. Mmm-hmm. Some pretty good chocolate chip cookies, too – but don't tell her I said they're only 'pretty good', will you? Ha! Oh, here I go, yapping away while she's already baking up a storm. I'd better be going. You two have yourselves a merry Christmas, now – and don't go losing any more presents! I like to help out – family's family, after all – but I'm off duty now 'til next year."

He chuckles and reaches out his hand again, empty this time, and offers it first to Sarah, and then Jareth. When it's Jareth's turn to shake hands, he feels a strange crackling that starts in the tips of his fingers, but quickly floods down through the rest of his body. He feels giddy, drunk almost, and before he knows it, he's smiling and waving the man off, standing with one arm around Sarah's shoulders as they watch the curious stranger walk away.

The door swings closed, and the spell is broken. Jareth shakes his head in confusion, and no matter how hard he taxes his brain, he can only vaguely remember releasing the man's hand again. By his side, Sarah is equally puzzled, staring at the small blue box as if she has never seen it before.

"What was that?" she asks, laughing a little. "And what's this?"

Jareth peers at the box for a moment, and though the strange elation he felt in the man's presence is fading, he feels hope welling up within his chest. He doesn't quite know what's inside that box – doesn't know for sure if he's being tricked into a marriage proposal he's nowhere near ready for – but he knows that, whatever it is, it's perfect. He can feel it, all of the love and care he has for her, crafted into just one small gift. He almost wants to rip the box open himself, with how badly he needs to see it. "It's for you," he tells her. "To let you know that, wherever you go, I'll always be looking out for you. Open it, love."

He can't help but see the way her fingers tremble as she tries to pry open the box's lid. With a grin, he closes his hands over hers, and together they coax it open. Blessedly, Sarah's loud gasp covers his own soft sigh of contentment.

Sitting on a cushion of dark blue velvet is a beautiful matte silver ring, etched into the wise, pointed face of an owl. Two small, icy-blue diamonds bring the owl to life – pale, twinkling eyes that will gaze upon the ring's owner for an eternity. When Jareth darts his own gaze up to meet Sarah's, he knows she loves it, and all that it symbolises, just as much as he does. Together, the two of them lift the ring free of its confines and move it over to her left hand. It fits perfectly … onto her thumb. It's ideal there, small and subtle, and as Jareth vows to himself, it's an unspoken promise for the future. Wearing that small token of his love, she has never been so gorgeous to him. He smiles as he clasps her hand between his, lifting it to his mouth and pressing a soft kiss just above that silver owl.

"Jareth … thank you. It's so, so beautiful …"

He grins as he draws her into his arms. "So are you."

Just as their lips are about to meet in perhaps the most perfect show of Christmas romance, the sounds of a small stampede reach Jareth's startled ears. He hardly has time to face the new threat before a boy-shaped tsunami crashes into him, forcing most of the air from his lungs. The Goblin King goes down bravely, with one last desperate glance at his beloved, and two small yet surprisingly strong arms squeezing the life out of his stomach. The back of his head hits the hallway floor – cushioned by carpet, at least – but the small pain of it is immediately outdone as Toby's hard skull connects with his jaw.

"Thankyouthankyouthankyou thank you," comes the boy's delicate scream into his ear, making Jareth wish that his gift of a tin goblin army had been accompanied by a muzzle.

'Books, next year,' he thinks as he waits for his ears to stop ringing. 'Nothing but the heaviest, most dreary textbooks I can find.' He wonders – and not for the first time – about the legalities of gifting a small boy his own inescapable labyrinth – preferably with a minotaur waiting at the centre.

Relative peace descends on the household as Toby takes his new army up to his room to play, but there's no time to relax in it. There's a full Christmas meal to make, and though Sarah seems to have most of the preparations under control, Jareth helps wherever he can – even if that help comes mostly in the form of babysitting her new ring so that it doesn't get dirty, and listening to some interesting new swear words. She looks quite adorable, cursing and covered in bits of grease and flour, but having been the recipient of her fierce glare more than once, he doesn't quite dare to tell her. Still, she manages to cheer up once most of the work is done, helped along by a few kisses and a large glass of wine. The rich scents of a delicious meal soon fill the house, and though it does smell appetizing, Jareth feels his stomach start to turn.

The downside of spending so much time together is how much more painful it will make having to leave. Though he tries to smile and keep his spirits up, he can feel the time slipping through his fingers, ticking down his remaining hours, and then his last minutes as a part of her world. Finally, he hears the sound he has been dreading all morning: the idling engine of a cab in the driveway as the rest of the Williams family arrive home from the airport. Toby comes bounding down the stairs and is outside like a shot, unable to hold back his excitement at finally having his parents back. Sarah is slower, however, as she stops to wash and dry off her hands first. Her head is bowed over the sink, and when it becomes clear she won't address the issue, Jareth knows it's up to him. Her owl ring seems to peck at his palm, telling him how foolish he's being as he approaches her. With a muted sigh, he lays a hand on her shoulder.

"I'm afraid, dear Sarah, that it's time for me to go." He really can't bear to leave her. Not again. "I can come back. I will come back, like you said … ah … after the celebrations are over, I suppose. We'll still spend time together." With his free hand, he offers her the ring. "Here. You don't have to put it back on right away. It might be better if you don't, actually, to save any awkward questions. I know it isn't … that sort of ring … but still, it might be … misconstrued." He forces a laugh. "Unexpected jewellery … they might think you have a new gentleman caller."

Both of them are silent as she accepts the ring. Sarah looks at it for a moment, twisting it between her fingers so the owl's pale eyes catch the light as she contemplates. Her decision made, she slides the ring back onto her thumb.

"I do." The words are spoken so softly, he's almost afraid he has misheard her. Then, she raises her head and smiles at him. Her eyes seem to sparkle with hope. "I do have a gentleman caller – or a boyfriend, as most normal people would say … right? I'm getting a little sick of mincing words, and that's pretty much what we both want you to be. And we could spend more time together today … if said boyfriend wants to stay for dinner." She touches her ring, as though gaining confidence just from its presence. "Of course, you'd have to do the whole 'meet the parents' thing. You think you can handle it?"

He can feel his chest swell, both with affection for her, and with a somewhat indignant sense of pride. "Being king carries with it a certain degree of responsibility, I'll have you know. I've met more than enough statesmen, foreign dignitaries, and yes, even other royalty in my lifetime. I'm sure I have the mettle required to face your family, love."

She offers him a somewhat guilty smile. "Did I mention I've never brought a serious boyfriend home before?"

"Ah." By which he means 'shit'. He raises a questioning eyebrow at Sarah's increasingly sheepish expression. He's certain there's more.

"Or … any boyfriend, really. I guess I never got around to it. They'll probably have a ton of questions for you."

"... ah." He uses what little air remains in his now-deflated chest to clear his throat. "And … is one of those questions going to be posed by your father, with the purpose of discovering my intentions towards his only daughter?" He hopes the question won't be retroactive. Last night's amorous intentions alone would be enough to make any father's blood boil, and Jareth can't quite recall whether duelling is still the done thing Aboveground. Sarah chuckles a little as he's pondering this last, lightening the weight of his worry.

"No, dad isn't like that." It's enough to give a man hope, but she's still wearing that look – that hint of something more to come. After a pause, it does. "Irene, though … she's going to want to know every little thing about you, and she's pretty huge on respect. I've seen her take down cat-callers at twenty paces; she made some drunk guy cry once, after he shot his mouth at her. She's the one you've got to watch out for."

Jareth, like any good king, swallows down his fear. He's sure the woman will be able to scent it. "Goody."

With Toby's joyous shouts echoing in from outside, Sarah takes his hand in hers. "Come on. Hey, it's Christmas, the season of goodwill. They'll have to at least pretend to like you."

"Hmm. Thanks for the reassurance. And you're definitely sure about this?"

Sarah – truly his Sarah, at long last – smiles and squeezes his hand. "More than anything," she echoes back at him.

She's all smiles as she heads out the door, tugging him along behind her. As the Goblin King follows, his heart full of love – and, fine, a tiny bit of that damnable Christmas Spirit at long last, too – Jareth can feel himself grinning as well.

He remembers sneering and much eye-rolling at some of the sappier couples he has had the displeasure of dining with in the past, certain that no one could possibly be so lost and pathetic in love. Now that he's amongst those pitiful ranks, however, he feels a vague sense of guilt; guilt, and the inkling that sending out a fruit basket or two might be in order, by way of apology. It might be prudent to send out a few dinner invitations, too, if his new girlfriend can be persuaded into attending with him. He also needs to track down that old rogue, Nikolaos, at some point to share some of his best brandy with. Given all of his new plans for the season, it's probably going to be a long time before he has the energy to feel bored again. By this time next year, gods forbid, he might actually be excited for Yuletide.

For now, though, he has the daunting task of meeting what may very well be his future in-laws. Pulling in a deep breath, Jareth puts his best foot forward, but not without a desperate plea to the forces above – all in the spirit of Christmas, of course.

"Gods help us – every one."

A/N: Thanks for reading (and putting up with a Christmas story when it's almost June!) Next few uploads will be WIP stories, so if you're following along, you may be waiting a little longer for updates.