Hello!

So my life has changed dramatically in the past few months. I got married, for one. Writing fanfiction has sort of fallen away, and I miss it dearly. I attempted to begin a "Crow" fanfic, but my heart wasn't in it, so it's on hiatus. I think it's best to go back to what I know and love best.

Please enjoy my Christmas present to you, who I've missed so much…and thanks for letting me into your lives once more.

We're gonna start out sad...get out your hankies!

-Nico

The snow that had begun to fall earlier in the afternoon was now accumulating in the streets outside of the orphanage, causing the children inside to press their faces up against the cold windows, too excited to sleep.

The rows of tiny beds that lined the main sleeping den of the Riverside Home for Children broke Sarah's heart every time she looked at them. She had been a social worker for nearly a decade now, and the holiday season was always the most difficult for her. Here it was, early December, and there wasn't a free bed in the facility. That meant that thirty-five children were in residence, each of them without a home for Christmas. And Sarah knew first hand that there were dozens of similar children's homes in the area that were just as full.

There was no reason for Sarah to still be at the Riverside Home. She had arrived earlier in the day to handle some paperwork, but had long since finished. Now, as she stood behind the children, watching them as they watched the snow, she couldn't stop an errant tear from slipping down her face.

A hand touching her shoulder pulled her from her thoughts.

"It's late, Sarah. You should get home before the weather takes a turn for the worse." The matronly nurse, Robin, who covered the overnight shift smiled warmly as she spoke. Sarah wiped at her eyes quickly and sighed.

"I suppose you're right," she agreed. "I guess there's nothing left for me to do here."

Robin smiled again. "I've worked with all types of people over the last 40 years, but I've never met someone as compassionate as you, Sarah."

Sarah smiled. "Thank you, Robin." She ran a hand through her hair. "I guess this time of year is just difficult for me. Of course, not as difficult as it is for them." She jutted her chin in the direction of the children looking out the window. "It's just not fair."

Robin rubbed Sarah's shoulder comfortingly. "Oh child," she breathed. "If only everyone in the world cared as much as you do." Then, turning her attention to the children said, "Alright, everyone. Into bed! The snow will still be there in the morning."

Sarah chuckled as Robin's instructions were met with groans of childish disappointment. She watched as children hurried to their respective beds, most of them no older than five or six. She watched as they tucked themselves in, having no one else to do it for them. She listened as a few said their prayers, her eyes threatening to spill over with tears again as she heard more than one of the kids pray for a family.

Before her emotions got the best of her, Sarah smiled at Robin and walked out of the sleeping den, pausing for only a moment to wipe her tears before she was met with the ice cold air outside.

New England's weather was particularly unforgiving in the winter months. Sarah pulled her long black peacoat tighter around her body, steadying herself against the slippery parking lot. When she finally arrived at her beat up jeep, she cursed as she realized she'd have to let it warm up for quite some time before it would be ready to actually move.

She hopped inside and slammed the door as hard as she could, hoping to slough off some of the frozen snow from the windows. No such luck. Sarah tried to quell her shivers as she forced her key into the ignition. She turned the key and her jeep sputtered to life. She pumped the gas, hoping to keep it alive on the first try, even though it usually stalled out a few times before she could get moving.

"Come on, baby….come on," she urged, turning the key again after the first stall.

The jeep roared to life a second time, only to quickly die back down, despite how many times Sarah pressed on the gas.

"Oh, man! Not tonight! Come on!" She turned the key again, yet this time the motor didn't turn over at all. Instead, the lights inside flickered and then died. Sarah slammed her hands against the steering wheel. "No!" She yelled, trying the starter one more time.

The car clicked, but did nothing else.

Sarah leaned against the headrest, her teeth threatening to chatter right out of her mouth. She pulled out her cell phone to call someone to pick her up, only to discover her cell battery had died.

"Shit! Shit shit shit shit shit!" She cursed. The lights inside of the children's home had been dimmed, but Sarah knew that Robin would let her back in. And so she hopped out of the car and hurried back over to the home, cursing the entire way.

She knocked on the heavy oak doors several times with no luck. Thankfully, when she tried the knob, the door opened with a whoosh, the winter wind pushing Sarah inside.

"Robin?" Sarah called out softly, hoping not to disturb the children.

The home was frightening at night. The dim lighting and rush of wind against the building gave Sarah goose bumps. And if she was frightened, she couldn't imagine how the children must feel. She hurried down one of the corridors towards the back offices, where she knew the phones were. As she approached the infant room, she slowed her footsteps to a quiet creep, not wanting to give Robin or any of the other overnight orderlies a crying baby to deal with.

The first thing Sarah saw as she got closer to the infant room was a shadow spilling out of the open doorway. Long, lean and tall, this wasn't the shadow of the portly Robin. Sarah tiptoed closer to the door to see what orderly was assigned to the babies on this particular night. Maybe they would know where Robin was.

The infant room was dark, save a few old night lights that provided a dim glow. A lullaby CD was playing in the background, creating a sort of eerie, sad mood. Sarah peered in and caught sighted of a dark figure perched over a bassinet.

Her eyebrows furrowed. She didn't recognize this orderly. She thought she knew everyone at Riverside.

She watched as the figure reached into the bassinet, lifting a sleeping baby into its arms. And while she could not see the person's face, the sound she heard next turned her blood to ice.

The person…the man… was humming.

And Sarah knew the song.

For a split second, the man turned. Sarah flattened herself into the shadows of the corridor, struggling to breathe and hoping that he didn't see her.

But she saw him. In that brief moment, she caught sight of his golden hair. She saw his miss-matched eyes. She noted the pale, glittering skin pulled taught over high cheekbones. And she did not miss the silver amulet that hung against dark, ethereal clothing.

Jareth.

As his name entered her consciousness, Sarah's hand flew to her mouth to stifle a scream. She pressed even further back into the corridor, squeezing her eyes shut.

This could not possibly be happening.

Thirteen years ago, when she was only a child of fifteen, Sarah had an amazing experience. While her adult mind had classified the incident as nothing more than a vivid dream, the child that still lurked inside of her screamed that it had been all too real. Throughout the years that had followed, Sarah refused to allow herself to think of what had happened, her heart stammering in panic at the slightest memory. As quickly as these memories would surface, she would shove them back down, lock them up and repudiate the need to revisit her time spent in…The Labyrinth.

Yet her unconscious was stubborn. Dozens of dreams about him had kept the image of Jareth fresh in her mind. And now, as horrified and disbelieving as she should be, she was absolutely certain that the man still holding the sleeping child a scant few feet away from her was none other than the Goblin King.

Insanity brought on by exhaustion was the first culprit Sarah blamed for this moment in time. She had been working long nights…she was emotional and tired…she hadn't really spoken to anyone that wasn't a business contact in weeks…she must be losing it. Yet no matter how hard she tried to ground herself; how seriously she wanted the image of the wraithlike king to disappear, it didn't.

Instead, Jareth remained in the infant room, humming and rocking the child, seemingly lost in whatever thoughts he was having.

Sarah was at a standstill. The way she saw it, she had three choices. She could run screaming from the Riverside Home, away from her delusions…confront the man she wasn't certain was real, or remain silent until he left.

Seeing as how her feet were frozen to the floor and she couldn't seem to get her mouth to work, Sarah chose the latter.

The child in Jareth's arms had woken up, and was now staring at the strange man holding him with wide, curious eyes. A chubby hand reached up to pull at a blonde lock. Jareth chuckled; a deep rumbling in his chest. He gently released his hair from the small boy's fist.

"You're a brave one, aren't you?" He asked. The child giggled.

At the sound of his voice, Sarah's knees gave way. She caught herself just before she fell. Jareth turned in the direction of the small noise she had made, but did not see her and returned his attentions to the child.

"I suppose you ended up here because your mother became desperate when I didn't appear immediately after she wished you away," Jareth continued to speak, his deep voice almost inaudible. He adjusted the child's soft white shirt. "I apologize, but I was occupied. Busy time of year…you understand."

The child laughed again.

"Ah, but you're better off without her," Jareth continued. "It is a shame I won't be able to offer her a run through the Labyrinth, but no one ever reaches the castle anyhow, so it's a waste of time, isn't it? We should both be grateful for the way things turned out."

The child cooed in concurrence.

"I'm pleased you agree," Jareth noted. "Shall we be on our way then?"

Sarah watched in horror as the edges of the Goblin King began to ebb and fuzz. A golden, otherworldly light radiated around the man and child, who was giggling again.

Insanity drives people to do things they might not ordinarily do, as Sarah was about to discover. While she had been intent on remaining silent in the shadows until Jareth disappeared, something within her was reeling at the thought of seeing him go. She couldn't identify what desperate feelings were building up inside of her, but before she realized what she was doing, her body was moving of its own accord, lunging clumsily toward the glowing image of Jareth and the child.

She caught the surprised eyes of Jareth for a split second before the wind was knocked out of her as she hit a cold, hard surface with more force than she could have anticipated.

Sarah sputtered and coughed, pulling her bruised body from the cold ground into a sitting position, squeezing her eyes shut to stop the room from spinning. As she focused, the first thing she saw was a pair of muscular legs, swathed in black leather. She followed the line of this body up with her eyes…discretely slipping over an impressive protuberance….until she saw the silver amulet…the pale column of a neck…and finally, the furious eyes of the Goblin King himself.