Authors note: Merry Christmas, one and all! I havent written in a while, so I figured I owed everyone a christmas fic. Have fun!

Disclamer: I only own the authoress in question. Sorta. I also agree fully with the personalities in her head. A wonderful Christmas to all my lovely friends out there on !


The authoress let out a grunt as she pushed herself back from the keyboard, sighing in defeat.

"This is freaking pointless. I can't do it. I suck at this."

Mumbling to yourself, it is said, is the product of a mind gone insane. This opinion was not created by writers, however. She shut her computer down with a fierce click, and listened to the downtrodden whirr it produced as it put itself to sleep.

She spun in her chair, leapt up, and paced.

"So what if I haven't written anything in months?! They don't want stories. They don't want humor! They want romance and smut." She kicked a sock out of her way. "Life's not just SEX, people!"

"But wouldn't it be wonderful if it was?" a sultry, drawling voice came from the direction of her bed, and she whipped her head around towards the sound.

"Majesty? Jesus!" she exclaimed, clutching her chest and glancing to make sure her door was shut.

"Jareth, actually. Its been to long." He inclined his head, and she took a long look at him. He was, without a doubt, delicious. Long and lithe, his clothing clung to every muscle, glittering in the warm light of her lamp. His pale blond hair, wild and choppy as ever, danced in the air of her ceiling fan. Her brain went warm and fuzzy, while her personalities all jumped at the chance to molest him.

She pushed them aside so she could formulate sentences.

"What's up, King?"

"I heard that you were having a touch of writers block from some of the other scribes. Care to share?" he stretched. Oh, lordy.

"Just…" 'Back on track, brain,' she exclaimed mentally. "Yeah. I've gotta write a Christmas fic, and nothings coming to mind. I don't want it to suck, but everything that comes out is crap. All the readers want these days is sex and leather."

"I happen to think those are great things to combine."

She made a strangled, awkward sound. "I'm sure."

"Stop blushing. If that is what they want, why do you not just write it?"

"Because I cant!" her voice reached a whine. "I have no sort of experience with that sort of… thing. I can't write what I don't know!"

"… Really?" His voice was incredulous.

"What do you mean really?" her voice reached a screech. She did not want him to ask what she thought he would ask.

"You're a virgin?" He dodged a sock.

"Of course I am! I'm a seventeen year old! I'm a fangirl! I've no life!"

"Well, if its any consolation, you're very pretty." He received a glare, which when mixed with a blush and hidden under a ball of untamable curls, looked more like a very angry puppy.

"Ha. Ha. I know I'm pretty, King. Guys don't like smart girls. Or fangirls. Or girls who have goblins routinely leave gifts in their lockers."

"It's not my fault that they like you. You did that on your own."

She sighed and looked the king over again. Her inner personalities thanked her for the view. Many times. In fact, they started to chant something along the lines of 'take it off' and 'rape, rape, rape…' which she promptly ignored.

"Remind me why you're here, again? You haven't visited in forever."

"Why, I'm here to give you your Christmas present, of course." He said, as he stood up and brushed off his sleeves. Glitter rained down onto her blankets, and she winced. 'That doesn't come out.'

"I thought you didn't celebrate Christmas." He looked disbelieving. He stood up tall, and she marveled at how short he would be without his hair. She was nearly his height, if he weren't wearing boots.

They looked at each other for a moment. She was wondering what the present was, while vaguely thinking of how much laundry needed to be done, and if she needed to dust. He, on the other hand, was wondering if she figured it out yet, how long it would take her to react, and if he would need to dodge any objects should his gift go awry.

Very suddenly, he bent his head and kissed her. She squawked, but the sound was muffled by a pair of lips smushed against her own. Her eyes did not flutter shut, nor did her foot pop into the air. Her knees did not crumple, though they thought about it seriously, and she got a very funny, giddy feeling in her face. For some reason, she goofily smiled through the kiss, and they separated with a mushy 'pop'. She laughed and planted a large kiss on each of his silky smooth cheeks.

He was surprised, to say the least, and he touched his face. He then shook it off and put on his best smoldering look, which she aptly deemed his 'Sexy face'.

"Merry Christmas." He drawled, and stepped back and melted into the shadows.

She pondered quietly about many things in the next few moments. First how this was quite a feat, considering her room was very well lit. The next was how that was a very wonderful kiss, but she doubted he would ever do it again. Maybe next Christmas? Or her birthday? Arbor day, perhaps? She turned to her computer and raised her eyebrows.

"Lets get to work, shall we?"


Did you like it? Its not much, but its better than if I tried to write a romance, or god forbid, a lemon. *shudders* Review, and tell me what you think, please! *puts on a santa hat* *jingles the review jar* For charity?