Hello, readers! Here is a New Year themed sequel to "Cold Nights, Warm Hearts, Gentle Music" through Jareth's perspective. I hope you enjoy it. Let me know what you think!

This story will also have daily updates through January 1.

Disclaimer: I don't own 'Labyrinth'

A Kissing Game

Her chest rose and fell in a steady rhythm. Eyes fluttered behind her closed lids. Dark hair splayed across her white pillow. Her limbs tangled in the white sheets. Her pink lips parted ever so slightly to allow her breath to escape. A light blush dusted her cream cheeks.

Jareth stepped up to the side of her bed and tenderly stroked the back of a gloved hand across her warm cheek, a surge of passion and protectiveness washing over him.

A gentle moan passed the sleeping woman's lips and she shifted positions, curling into the fetal position and pulling the sheet up to her chin. A smile tugged at the corner of the man's lips. She was still so childlike, so innocent, so gentle.

And she was his.

He still couldn't believe it.

Five nights ago, when she had stepped away from him, he had feared that she would leave him, that she would reject him again and he wouldn't be permitted to even look after any more.

She had taken a deep breath and pulled herself together. "You had no power over me when I was fifteen, and to this day you still don't," she had said and his heart had fallen.

She was going to leave him.

He had just told her his heart, his dreams. He had just told her the loneliness that had clawed at his heart in the same fashion it had clawed at hers.

And she was going to leave him.

The sadness that had befallen him crushed him under its weight. The day she had first said those words hadn't been this bad. If I survive this grief, he had thought, I'll have to stop risking my heart.

"But, despite that, you—you stayed with me," she continued.

Yes, of course I did, he had thought. Now stop trying to soften the blow, he had willed her, but she still continued on.

"You may have had no power, but that didn't drive you from my side, even if your presence was less than desirable at times. You never did anything, but you stayed there, for support. And for that, for not leaving my side, I thank you—Jareth."

She had said his name. She was thanking him. She wasn't rejecting him. She may never return my feelings, he rationalized, but at least she isn't banishing me from her side. "And I will never leave it," he said holding out a hand to her. "Shall I bring you home, precious?"

Let me stay by your side a little longer, he had willed her. Don't let me be lonely any more.

And then she had taken his hand. Her small, delicate hand fit perfectly within his own.

And she had accepted him. He could stay by her side a little longer.

Green eyes fluttered open and met his. Still bleary with sleep, they took a moment to focus on him. Sarah rubbed the back of her hand over her eyes and sat up; her hair tangled and wilder than his. As her clear emerald eyes landed on him, a smile danced across her face.

"Morning," she whispered in a voice husky from lack of use the past several hours.

"Good morning, precious," he replied gently, sitting on the edge of the bed near her feet.

She pulled her legs out from underneath the sheets and crawled over next to him. She leaned her head against his shoulder and pulled her knees up, wrapping her arms around them.

"Aren't you cold?" he remark as he took in her sleeping wear: a simple pair of shorts and a tank-top.

"Mmm, a little," she said as she snuggled closer to him.

Jareth chuckled and wrapped an arm around her shoulders and drew her into his chest. "Better, precious?"

She sighed, her warm breath brushing across his chest sending another wave of protectiveness and passion coursing through him. "Yes," she mumbled against his chest. "How long do you have today?"

"Not enough time," he replied as he pressed his lips against her wild hair.

"You could just bog everyone and not worry about things for today."

Jareth threw his head back and laughed, Sarah joining in with quiet giggles. "For today perhaps, but what of tomorrow? I'd have to deal with the stench plaguing my Labyrinth. I'm sure the neighboring kingdoms would complain as well. Then I'd have to spend countless hours away from you in meetings—"

"Okay, okay," she exclaimed pulling back, "I get it. Bogging everyone's a bad idea."

"I never said it was a bad idea, precious," he countered.

She pouted. "You said that you "would have to spend countless hours away" from me. Wouldn't that constitute it as a bad idea?"

"I still never labeled it as such."

Sarah bit her lip in frustration and jumped off the bed. "Fine!" she exclaimed, turning from him. "I don't get why I put up with you, Goblin King."

The man who sat on her bed smirking lost his smirk the moment his title left her mouth. He stood from her bed and put his hands on her shoulders. He turned her around to face him with difficulty but she still stubbornly refused to meet his eyes. He wrapped a hand around her chin and turned her face to his yet her eyes still stared defiantly away.

"Precious," he urged.

Nothing.

"My dear," he whispered.

Nothing.

He leaned forward and brushed his lips against her jawline making his way to her ear. "Sarah," he pleaded.

He felt her shiver and a smile curled his lips.

"Mmm?" she hummed.

"Forgive me?"

"I don't forgive easily, Jareth."

His smile grew wider. His name. "You forgave that Higgle quick enough."

"Hoggle," she said, trying to put harshness in her voice but failing miserably.

He grazed her neck with his lips and nestled in the crook of it.

"Oh, fine, you're forgiven, Jareth. Now get off of me!"

Sulkily, he obliged but he whispered for fun, "But it's so much fun being on you."

He felt the heat of her blush spread across her body and he laughed gently even as she shoved him away exclaiming, "Stop doing that!"

"What, precious?" he inquired innocently.

Her cream face grew a deeper shade of red and she fumbled over her answer, "Talking about—speaking like we're—we're not—oh, you know!"

He pressed the back of a gloved hand to her flushed cheek, enjoying the heat that burned through the leather. "I'm sorry, precious. But as I said before, I love when you blush. I mean nothing by anything I say."

"Why do you like me blushing?" she asked, her anger abated by his touch.

Why did he like it? Even he wasn't entirely sure. "The warmth. The color. You look so pretty when you're blushing." He smiled lovingly. "It also shows your innocence, precious."

His last comment invoked another blush. "I think I'm going to take a shower now," she stumbled out.

Jareth lowered his hand. "You do that, precious. But be quick. I want to spend as much time as I can with you today."

She bit her lip and nodded as she turned and entered her bathroom, locking the door behind her.

The lone man chuckled softly to himself as he heard the water turn on. He walked out of her bedroom and lounged on her couch, throwing his legs across the seats and draping an arm over the back.

This couch. From this couch, that day had started so perfectly.

She had lain sleeping between his legs, her head resting against his chest. He had not been able to sleep. He had wanted to enjoy every precious moment he could with her, unsure of how much longer he would be allowed to stay by her side. Unwilling to sleep, he had contented himself with running his hands through her wonderful hair. Occasionally he had lifted a strand and pressed it to his lips, kissing it tenderly and breathing in its wonderful scent.

After she had woken up, she had eventually allowed herself to relax back into him. Her sock clad feet had brushed against his and she had begun to stroke them with hers. A thrill had surged through him as he tightened his grip on her rubbed his toes against hers. Then her eyes had brightened so beautifully has they flew to her old piano and she saw what he had done.

She had clambered off the couch and ran to it. Her hand stretched out to touch it but then retracted. He had stood and walked to her side.

"Go on," he had urged her and she did. As the piano's note sounded through her apartment, she had turned and thrown her arms around his neck and fiercely whispered her thanks.

He had wrapped his arms around her and laughed gently, partially at her reaction and partially at the joy that was filling him as her scent and warmth encased him. "You're quite welcome, precious," he had whispered in her ear.

He had felt her body vibrate wonderfully as she hummed in pleasure. "I could get used to you calling me that. I'll miss it."

A cold hand seized his heart. Miss it? She was going to leave him again. He would have to leave her side. He would have to face years of loneliness once again. He had pulled back and quirked an eyebrow, for the sake of retaining his proud persona, asking, "Miss it?"

She had nodded and withdrew her arms from his neck, turning away from him to face the piano.

His heart had fallen as cold air brushed against his now exposed skin.

"You've done what you needed to do," she began to explain to the piano in front of her as she traced the keys. "You were here for me when I needed it, just like last time, even though it took so long for me to realize it. As you said last night, the goblins don't like being alone for long. Your Labyrinth will need you. I can't keep you. It would be selfish of me to do so. Don't get me wrong, I wish—" her voice stopped as she caught the words that were about to pass her lips.

"Sarah," he implored her. Finish the wish, he inwardly pleaded, let me stay with you. Don't let me leave you. Please, be selfish. I will be selfish in return.

"Play the end of my—our—song," she had gently requested, pulling him from his silent plea.

He had stepped up to her, pressing himself against her back to feel her one last time if this failed. She had said "our"; there was still a chance he could stay. He had wrapped his arms around her small frame and grabbed her wrists. He had set them against the piano keys and whispered, "Tell me how this ends."

"But I can't play—," she had protested.

He spread out her shorter fingers and settled his own lightly on top of hers. "Play," he commanded. Play that we are together so that I can stay, he willed her.

She had stayed quiet for several moments, and he had begun to fear the worst. But he stood silently, awaiting the rejection, the separation, that was becoming inevitable. Suddenly he had felt her hands flip over and her bare palms had pressed against his gloved hands.

"Take your gloves off."

"Sarah," he had begun to protest, but she cut him off with: "You wanted an end, didn't you?"

Yes I do. He had wanted it but he feared it. The decorum of his gloves was easily overlooked, but what gave him pause was the fear. Damn fear, he had chastised himself. He had waited long enough.

He had lifted his hands from hers and pulled them behind her. Gently, he peeled off his gloves to reveal the smooth, fresh flesh underneath. Discarding the unneeded clothing on the floor, he had returned his hands to hers. As he did so, he had heard her eyelids fluttering close, causing a smile to briefly flit across his face.

The moment his skin touched hers another surge of emotion washed over him as a sigh passed her lips. He had loved the feel of his skin on hers, but this wasn't an end. "Precious, how is this an end to the song?" he had questioned.

And then, oh then, came one moment that he constantly played over in his mind. She had entwined her fingers through his and pressed her wrist to his, allowing him to feeling her fluttering heartbeat.

An unbidden gasp had passed his lips as his heartbeat easily fell in step with hers.

"It's the only instrument I have," she had explained quietly.

"Sarah," he had choked out.

"I'm sorry, Jareth. I'm sorry it took so long for me to realize how—how alike we were. We really did have the same dream. To be cared for and care for, to be loved and to love, to have a companion. But, I can't allow—,"

That's it. His passion no longer had allowed him to stand silently as she continued on, admitting their dream but refusing it to happen. He had pulled his hands from hers and grasped her shoulders, turning her around to look into his eyes. He saw his emotions reflected in hers and needed no more encouraging. He had pulled her into him and encased her in his arms. She had pressed her cheek against his chest, and he felt his heartbeat matching hers, playing out the end of their song, uniting their dream, uniting them. His dream. Her dream. Our dream.

He had pressed a finger under her chin and tilted her face upwards towards him, smiling down at her as he finally brushed his lips against hers. His fingertips had grazed her jaw as he had entwined them into her long chestnut hair, the feel of it between his bare hands more wonderful than between his gloved.

She had clutched the front of his shirt and pulled him closer. Her fingertips had lightly brushed against his exposed chest before she had pushed her hands up his chest and clutched his shoulders. She had arched into him, fitting perfectly against him and deepening the kiss.

He had felt whole.

He had felt complete.

He had felt a part of something.

And he had felt sure that the young woman whose lips desperately clung to his had the same emotions stirring in her heart.

Jareth heard the water shut off in the bathroom. He smiled once again at the memory of the kiss. Yes, he thought, this certainly is a wonderful end, a wonderful dream come true. He flicked a wrist and a clear crystal appeared in his awaiting palm. It popped and small green branch with oval leaves and white berries rested in its place.

He had seen this hanging in doorways around Christmas and men had pulled unsuspecting women under it before kissing them. It was odd, but he wouldn't write it off as insane if it got him another kiss from Sarah.

The determined man stood and walked to the doorway that led to Sarah's bedroom. He reached up and stuck it on the top of the doorframe. Once it was in place, he lazily propped an elbow on the doorframe and waited for the chestnut haired beauty to emerge from the bathroom.

After what seemed an endless amount of time waiting, she finally stepped out of the steam filled bathroom, her fingers running through her damp hair.

He smiled at her jeans and t-shirt as she remained oblivious of him. She had quickly taken to getting dressed in the bathroom when she had stepped out of the bathroom in a towel a couple days prior to find him lounging patiently on her bed.

Sarah tossed her damp, untangled hair over her shoulder and looked up. Her green eyes landed on him and she smiled, her energy and playfulness returned. No sign of her previous embarrassment and fluster anywhere in her manner.

"Did you wait long?" she inquired, slipping her arms around his waist

"Terribly long, precious," he responded in mock pain, throwing a hand to his breast and clutching his heart.

She smiled gently at his antics.

Jareth watched as her eyes slowly rose to the small branch above her head. She squinted her eyes and asked. "Is that—?"

He smiled. "Yes, precious."

"But," she began to say, bringing her eyes back to his.

He didn't let her finish as he snaked his arms around her waist and leaned forward, but Sarah pulled back and waved a finger in front of his face.

"Oh no you don't!" she tsked playfully.

Jareth pouted and looked up at the sprig of mistletoe that dangled above their heads. "I thought this was one of your traditions."

The chestnut haired woman untangled herself from his arms. She crossed hers under her breasts and explained, "A Christmas tradition. There is an entirely different one for this time of the year."

His mismatched eyes returned to her green ones. "Shall I take it then that you won't let me kiss you, precious?"

"Not until you find the right tradition," she replied, kissing his jawline cheekily.

He growled. "You, my dear Sarah, are infuriating."

She gently laughed, her warm breath tickling his neck. "That's what you get if you want me by your side. You could always go back to being lonely."

Fear clutched his heart in an icy grip. Jareth grasped ahold of her shoulders fiercely and pulled her away. His eyes took on a steely look as they bored into hers. "Don't you ever return me to that prison," he hissed. He couldn't be pushed from her side. Not now.

Fear flashed behind her emerald eyes, and the king instantly regretted his actions. His eyes softened and loosened his grip on her shoulders. "I'm sorry, precious. I have no intention of being lonely again. You leaving me is my greatest fear."

She bit her soft, pink bottom lip and stepped forward against him, wrapping her arms around his waist. She pressed her soft cheek against his chest. "I have no intention of leaving. You stayed by my side. I'll stay by your side. We share the same dream."

He smiled down at her and brought a hand to her chin. Gently cupping it, he turned her face upwards until her bright eyes met his. "What did I ever do to deserve you, precious?" he asked tenderly as he leaned forward once again.

Instead of his lips meeting her soft, warm ones they connected with a smooth finger. "Nah-a," she tsked again.

He growled and pulled his head up, glaring down at her.

"Why did I lose my heart to such an infuriating woman?" he muttered.

She smiled coyly, "Because you enjoy a challenge. And I challenge you."

He smiled devilishly down at the beautiful woman in his arms, "Yes, you do precious. But you still have pliable moments."

He watched amused as a pink flush spread across her cream cheeks for the umpteenth time since their reunion. Dear God, he thought, I love that.

Her eyes skirted away for a moment before they dared to meet his again. "I have a challenge for you Goblin King."

He lifted an eyebrow. "Oh, you do?"

"Yes. I challenge you to discover the New Year's tradition that will let you kiss me. Do you accept?"

"Of course I do, precious."

She glanced briefly at her watch before turning her eyes back to his. "You have forty hours in which to solve this challenge, before these lips are lost to you this year."

"Do I get one last kiss?"

Sarah stood on her toes, letting her lips hover tantalizingly close to his, before she pulled away and slipped from his arms. "No," she said.

"My dear, you can be so cruel."

She smirked. "Yes. Now what do you want to do in the small amount of time I have with you before you are whisked away from me?"

He sighed and turned from her, reentering the living room with Sarah close on his heels. He plopped onto the couch in a very unkingly manner. She stopped in front of him and put her hands on her hips. "Well?" she asked.

Jareth sat up far enough to snake his arms around her waist, and he pulled her down his lap, eliciting a yelp of surprise from her. "We could just enjoy each other company," he suggested.

The woman in his arms leaned back into his chest and nestled her head under his chin. "Sounds wonderful."

Jareth leaned forward a slipped an arm under her legs and hefted them onto the couch, sprawling them out to the side. Sarah shifted and laid her head on his leg. She raised a hand and began to idly draw circles on his knee. He, in turn, rested his hand on her arm and gently trailed it up and down her smooth flesh.

As they remained there in companionable silence, he allowed his mind to drift over her challenge.

His goblins weren't helping him in this endeavor. They prattled about noisily, trudging through the throne room without a thought of concern for their king.

Jareth lounged in his throne with a leg casually tossed over one of its arms, a hand on his jaw in thought as he absentmindedly tapped his riding crop against the sole of his boot.

A tradition.

What tradition?

He had left Sarah earlier than he had planned to prowl the town for a hint of this tradition, but he all he saw were men brazenly kissing women with nothing consistent between each couple. Frustrated with his lack of discovery he had returned to his castle where the goblins had made a fowl mess of things in his few hours of absence. He had spent several hours cleaning the throne room and resolving the issues that had arisen from an egg fight among the goblins that resided in his throne room. He would have bog each one of the pesky little things if he hadn't been so eager to return to Sarah's challenge.

Crash.

"Dat's Mizy's chicken!" a voice exclaimed.

"No, itas Shrewd's!" another responded.

"Kingy!" the two voices called together.

With a sigh, Jareth ran a hand over his face and stood from his throne. Sarah's challenge would have to wait until tomorrow. He had thirty hours left after all.

"Be quiet the both of you before I bog you without questions," he yelled as he strode towards the two bickering goblins.