"Mistletoe"

By Ellie

A/N~ This is a fic that I wrote the majority of late last night/ early this morning. Yep, I'm one of those freaky people who come up with stuff in the middle of the night… But you should be *happy* about this- because it means that YOU get to read/ scoff at/ laugh at it!!! =)

Merry Christmas everyone!

PS~ Yes, I would like reviews- even if it's just to tell me how silly you think this fic is!! =)

One word: Mistletoe.

Sarah Williams was running into the vile growth everywhere- and then in turn, running from it. While it may not *look* revolting, with its nice green leaves, (Usually tied artfully with ribbon.) you know how appearances can be deceptive.

Her fellow co-workers had already done impairable damage by putting a sprig above her boss' office door. You see the plant *itself* is hardly anything to fear… But the tradition that surrounds it…. That's a WHOLE other story!!! When Sarah had knocked on the door of her balding, bad-tempered boss' lair, "Being goaded into following mistletoe etiquette and planting one on my tobacco-chewing employer."

was right under "Send the Goblin-king a fruit basket." on her "Things to do list". So strictly speaking, she never in a million years would have thought it was a possibility. Just because she *wrong* didn't make it any less shocking. Or disgusting… but onto the topic at hand: Kissing.

Two pairs of meshed lips and usually the exchange of saliva. Nothing that screams out, "Run away! Run away!" (Unless you're very sanitary…) But then you examine the WHOLE tradition… namely, the part where you have to kiss whichever sorry being ends up under it with you. And that's it. No voting, no switching… Just you, and the guy with a cowlick and tuna-breath. (Sarah seemed to have a magnetic pull that made all of the weirdoes gravitate near her when mistletoe was around.)

Over the years she had an epiphany. Mind you, it took and incident with a ninety-year old Hells Angel before she put it together…

Mistletoe is a conspiracy. Yep, it's just Fate's idea of a cosmic joke. That's no *coincidence* that the one person you would rather watch being ripped apart by ravenous Chihuahuas just *happened* to trip over the rug and land at your feet after you're *accidentally* pushed under the dreaded leaves. Oh no, that's just Fate saying "Look what *I* can do!" And not only are we forced to look, but we must also obey. Even if it means kissing the guy with a tattoo that says "I Love Mom" on his bicep. (Was it previously mentioned that Sarah *never* got to kiss anyone normal? Or attractive…)

Any ways, once the truth was revealed, (And trust me when I say that 'lightning striking' is definitely NOT a description one would use to explain the process that our heroine used to come to that conclusion.) Sarah realized that the only precaution that she could take was to stay far, FAR away from *any* type of mistletoe. (Fresh, plastic, ornaments, pictures, etc.) Sarah wasn't taking ANY chances…those were her lips, and she was supposed to keep them well into old age. Not to mention her body's demand to stop adding to the brain trauma she was sustaining from Fate's endless torture.

She resorted to hiding inside her apartment until she was sure that mistletoe was out of season. And even then the paranoia continued- No steps were taken until a scan of the ceilings/ doorways were clear of plants. In fact, (Just to be on the safe side) Sarah refused to walk under ANY plants. (At least until January 20th, when no one could claim that it was still "Christmastime")

It was on such a day, (January 21st, to be exact) when Sarah came home from work and plopped onto her over-stuffed couch. Kicking off her shoes, she relaxed he ebony head against a pillow and let out a blood-curdling scream.

There was mistletoe hanging from EVERYTHING! It was on her shelves, fireplace, covering virtually every flat surface and hanging off of everything else! The damn infuriating things were just sitting there, looking healthy, and the little red ribbons seemed to wink down/up at Sarah saying- "Look at us! We're here to make your day!"

"Deep calming breaths, deep calming breaths…." Sarah muttered to herself while screwing her eyes shut from the horrible sight.

It was during her mantra that she heard a very *peculiar* sounding chuckle. After screaming again, though this time in anger, Sarah swiveled to glare at the intruder…

"This was NOT funny you little…" Her eyes snapped open after taking in the lounging form of Jareth, the Goblin-King. He was dressed entirely in red, something that Sarah had never seen before. In fact there were *several* things that Sarah would enjoy seeing Jareth in, or rather *not* in….

Smacking herself in the forehead, Sarah resolved to have a nice little chat with her therapist about disturbing urges popping up to bite her on the ass…. Ahhh! Smacking herself *again*, she tried to pry images out of her mind and focus on one problem at a time. And for right now, her problem was currently prowling her apartment like a festive jungle-cat.

Red really does suit him…Urgh. Stop! Just because the object of your fantasies is here- in your apartment, in the middle of the night, doesn't mean that you should sit there and drool at him! Get your act together! Kick him out! Or at least kick him!

Before she could stop herself, Sarah found herself demanding the question that had taken up residence in her mind, "What's with the red? And is that white fur lining your shirt?!?"

Jareth smiled seductively, "Just call me Santa Claus…"

Unbidden, a certain daydream came to Sarah's mind….

~*~ "Hmm… Now what do I want for Christmas? Ooh! I know! The Goblin-King without a shirt on! That would make ME pretty joyful!"

With a burst of glitter Jareth appears.

"Santa sure is prompt! But dammit he messed up the packaging… I said NO shirt!"

"That can be arranged…" ~*~

Gulping audibly, Sarah looked up into his wicked gaze.

"Well what did you expect Sarah? I can see your dreams. And also *fulfill* them…" He trailed a sprig of mistletoe across her cheek while his eyes caught hers.

*~*~*~* 30 minutes of making out later…*~*~*~*

"You know, I'm beginning to think that mistletoe's not so bad…" Sarah admitted with a laugh. The fact that they were both lying on top of layers of it, and underneath even *more* might explain her sudden change of heart.

"I'm beginning to like your mortal tradition immensely..." Jareth said, while nipping at the Sarah's earlobe.

"Well I had a *reason* for not liking it! I mean this one time a guy with HUGE yellow teeth ended up under the mistletoe with me… and to make things worse he was eating onion rings and there were pieces stuck everywhere!" Shuddering, Sarah tried to erase one of her worst experiences from her mind. Feeling Jareth shift uncomfortably, Sarah began to get suspicious. "What do you know?" She demanded.

"Well, let's say, hypothetically speaking, that someone were to cast a spell to ensure that no one of interest would ever end up under mistletoe with you… But the only reason they did it was because they couldn't stand the thought of someone catching your eye- or your heart…"

Hazel eyes shone murderously, "Damn your sexy ass to hell!"

Trying for damage control, Jareth quickly tried to pacify her. "Now, now Sarah, there's no need to get upset-"

"No need? No need!?! I've been kissed by guys freakier than your goblins for YEARS and your telling me there's no NEED!?!"

"Er…."

"You just wait… I'll get you for this! I'm gonna make you pay!"

Looking worried Jareth appeased her, "I promise to make up for your…. misfortune."

He interrupted her words by taking the opportunity to kiss her breathless.

"You'll do more than 'Make up for it'…" She murmured several minutes later.

"Of course I will!" He answered immediately… He desperately wanted to resume tasting her lips. In fact, he was so busy trying to achieve his goal that her next words didn't register until it was too late.

"I'm going to make you suffer."

Jareth didn't need to see her face to know what she meant. He could practically feel the cold of a lonely bed…. And he was also aware of her very pointed look at a certain part of his anatomy that had come to, Ahem… attention.

Jareth let out a very Un-Kingly moan of torment.

Sarah's eyes twinkled, "Two words: Plaque and Onion-breath."

Jareth had the sense to grimace. "I've brought this on myself haven't I?"

Sarah grinned, "Damn straight!"

A/N~ Well, that was just my little fic for Christmas…. I hope everyone has a great one- I'll be off to Midnight Mass. (Torturous tradition- I know) And if you all want to chip in and get me something nice for Christmas…..

THEN PLEASE REVIEW!!!!!!

Love ya! Toodles!

-Ellie