Ange: Good gravy, how long have I been on here, and this is my first story?

Jareth: A while, I'd say. At least three or four months.

Ange: *glares at His Nibs* Oh, who asked you?

Jareth: You did.

Ange: Whatever! So, I've decided to put up some of my fanfic.

Jareth: Finally. It's about time you got around to writing again.

Ange: *holds up a roll of duct tape and he shuts up* Anyhow, please enjoy my meager attempts at Labyrinth fanfiction. Just a bunch of silly little ideas that enter my mind, that's why I am forced to call them drabbles.*sighs* I have no room to compare myself to the great Jim, George, and Brian.

Jareth: Also, you have no room to say you own the Labyrinth, or any of it's subjects.*smirks haughtily* That's my job.

Ange: Okay, that's it! *pulls out the duct tape again* You better start running, Your Majesty!

Jareth: *realizes the imminent danger, and starts running, forgetting the fact that he's being chased by a 5'2" part-time authoress* You better stay away from me, you crazy thing!

Ange: Please review!

Party Promises

Sarah sighed as she picked up various articles of debris around her flat. The party had seemed like a good idea at first; then again, the Fireys hadn't been on the original guest list. Either way, it was now the young woman's duty to clean up from yet another wild party, celebrating her victory eight years ago, even if half of the Undergrounders hadn't actually been around for the event(1). The sudden image of Sir Didymus snarling fiercely at the door when one of her neighbors had come to complain about the racket had her giggle internally when she picked up the noisemaker he had been playing with.

"Well, well, I see you all had a good time."

The brunette let a reluctant smile spread across her face when she heard the ever-elegant, currently sullen voice. Pivoting slowly on her heel, she allowed herself to give him a good look up and down, pleasantly surprised at his almost casual attire.

"Good evening, Your Majesty," she replied, setting the garbage bag down and crossing the room to stand in the kitchen doorway. "Want some cake? I think there's still a few pieces that managed to stay flame-free. How something always catches on fire, I'll never understand(2)."

"Trust me, precious, I gave up trying to figure that one out centuries ago. And, yes," he sighed, uncrossing his long arms and relaxing slightly into the cushions, "some cake would be nice. And could I possibly trouble you for tea? It's been a rather stressful day."

"How so?" she asked, pulling two pieces of cake out of the refrigerator, and setting them on a plate. "The chickens get loose in the labyrinth? Or is the Bog plugged up?"

"Oh, that would almost be paradise," he muttered, standing and following her in his graceful stride. "Apparently, this little celebration has caused quite a stir among my kingdom. I haven't been able to get any work accomplished, and even threats of certain death have meant nothing for the past week." He collapsed into one of the chairs at the kitchen table, and crossed his arms over his chest. "I mean, did anyone even stop and think to ask me to help? I am the king, after all. It would've been nice if I were invited. It's not very fair, if you ask me."

Sarah couldn't help laughing at his words, and received a half-hearted glare in return. "I'm sorry, Jareth, but do you really think it would be in good taste to invite you to a party that was for me beating you? Trust me, if I had any say in these things, I would gladly invite you."

His frown lightened a bit, and he almost smiled at the champion of the labyrinth, letting his mismatched eyes roam over her-she had definitely changed in the eight years since they had first faced each other. What had once been a young, fantasy-enthralled, spoiled girl was now an older, kinder and more open, more realistic woman, even if she still firmly believed in those fantasy creatures; how could she not-they visited her on a daily basis! But, she had also become a very beautiful young woman, one who very frequently was the subject of his sweetest dreams.

"Still, it would have been polite to ask," he remarked, taking his tea and cake with a word of thanks. "So, the goblins tell me you have a company party coming up, and you currently have no date."

"Sneaky little rats," she mumbled, stabbing at her own piece. "Yes, there is a party, but it's more like a ball. And, no, I don't have a date, because I hadn't planned on going. It'll just be a bunch of snarky co-workers getting drunk and gossiping and making fools out of themselves. No, thank you. Besides," she explained, pausing to take a sip of her tea, "I wouldn't have anything to wear, and I can't do any ballroom dancing."

The skeptical, almost shocked look in his fascinating eyes puzzled her. "What?"

"Sarah Williams, do not tell me you don't know how to dance. I know for a fact that you know how to ballroom dance, because I have personally witnessed it." He stood and stared down at her.

Her cheeks flushed, and he found himself adoring the sight. "Well, that was years ago, and I was under the influence of a hallucinogenic peach, in case you don't remember."

"Details, details, dearest," he retorted with a wave of his hand(3). "Once you learn something, you never truly forget it. Lessons can be easily set up, yours truly instructing. And, you can't give me the excuse of no date anymore, because I"-and he bowed low in front of her, sweeping his arm over his chest-"will gladly be your escort."

Sarah found herself with a gaping mouth at his rather forward offer, and fumbling for excuses not to go. "I have nothing to wear."

"Nonsense. I will personally find something for you."

His pleading eyes and the quivering bottom lip slowly but surely broke her resolve. "No overdoing the sparkles," she finally sighed, running a hand through her long, dark hair. "And nothing poofy. I don't need to look like a reject from Enchanted(4)."

The look of absolute delight on his elegant face almost made her rethink her agreement. Almost. Without warning, he scooped her out of the chair, drew her into his arms, and spun her around, letting out a joyous laugh, which she couldn't help joining in on.

"What's with the sudden mood swing?" she wondered dizzily when she was finally set back on the ground.

He smiled serenely, and brushed away a strand of hair from her face, unable to forget the shiver she elicited as his gloved finger caressed her skin. "I'm slowly getting you to believe in me again. I can't get the little girl to wish for me, but I can appeal to the young woman. And, who knows? Maybe in time, I could get you to love me." He shrugged, somehow making the move unearthly graceful. "But, I won't force you to choose this time, Sarah dearest. All I can ask is that you let me try."

The look in her forest green eyes was indescribable, but if he had to later choose a word, Jareth would hope it was agreement. "I suppose that's not too much to ask for." His relief was nearly tangible in the small space between them. "But will the Goblin King still hear wishes?"

He was slightly confused. "Of course. Are you getting at something?"

She smiled in a rather sly way, and pointed upwards where one goblin, misunderstanding the meaning of the decoration, had hung a bit of mistletoe(5). He followed her finger, and grinned wickedly. "I wish the Goblin King would kiss me."

"My subjects are idiots," he chuckled, but proceeded to firmly set his lips against hers.

End...For Now

Jareth: *rereading the last few paragraphs with a satisfied look on his face*

Ange: I take it you're pleased?

Jareth: Oh, most certainly. Wherever did you come up with the mistletoe?

Ange: Hey, every good Labyrinth fanfiction has to have at least one kiss. It's just my creative liscence to end the first chapter with one.

Jareth: Well, I must say it was clever and delightful.

Ange: See, folks? If the king likes it, it has to be good. So, show your appreciation, and if anyone can find me a good picture of a dress that Jareth would pick for Sarah, you'll get a free mistletoe kiss from the Goblin King!

Jareth: That's righ-wait, what?!

Ange: Review!

1: What goblin could resist telling the story of their king's defeat for generations to come?

2: Thanks to Lixxle-The Gift That Keeps On Giving-for the combustion inspiration!

3: A short time later, though, he did regret that.

4: If you've ever seen the movie, it's Giselle's dress when she arrives in New York. And, I understand the timing is off, but for all intents and purposes, the timing will be how I have it.

5: After a Christmas party when Sarah desperately tried to explain the use for the plant, many goblins misinterpreted, and saw fit to place it wherever their king and the champion would be together. Sneaky little things.