The wedding was beautiful in its simplicity. The little stone church was covered with Spring wildflowers. Cascades of heather and flax and daisies draped the window ledges and wooden center beams. Sarah and Jareth stood together under a curved bower of more colorful blooms as Reverend Meyers guided them through their vows.

Sarah wore a gown of ivory Irish lace with a sweeping skirt and flowing sleeves. Her hair was loosely braided and had fragrant flowers woven into it. Jareth wore a jacket and pants the color of fresh cream paired with a rich blue silk tie, a white shirt and blue braces. A single white tulip was pinned to his lapel.

Moira, as Matron of Honor, wore a simple but elegant blue gown and stood at Sarah's side, holding her bouquet as Sarah slipped a golden band on Jareth's finger. Toby squirmed uncomfortably in his stiff shirt and tie as he stood at the groom's side, careful not to drop the shining ring he'd been given charge of as Jareth's Best Man.

The reception was raucous as expected, with Robert Williams offering a lengthy and embarrassing toast while Karen sniffled loudly and dabbed at the black streaks under her eyes with a linen handkerchief. Linda Williams did not attend, but sent her best wishes. The bouquet was tossed and landed in Lily Dabney's arms. Moira made her give it back. There were drinks and dancing and more drinks and more dancing. A romantic honeymoon to a near-deserted tropical island followed, in which Jareth reenacted all the naughty things he'd promised in the sexy story he'd told Sarah the previous November.

The newlyweds returned to Great Missenden, not to the rowhouse, but to a large brick country house with gardens and adjoining paddocks and stables. Jareth took the train to London twice a week to teach a few European Mythology classes while Sarah plugged away at a third installment of her book. A movie had been made of the first one and the film version of the second book was already underway. She and Jareth had been invited to the premiere, but they had politely declined. They preferred quiet evenings together in the spacious drawing room, reading silently as soft music played on the antique hi-fi and Sir Lancelot draped across Jareth's lap while Peaches flitted in her cage above Sarah's shoulder.

On one such evening, Sarah closed her book and laid it aside and turned to her husband. She smiled thinking of him as that. Her husband. Such a simple word for all that he was.

"I need to tell you something," she said. Jareth looked up from his reading, his eyes gazing at her from above his tortoise-shell frames.

"What is it, love?" he asked.

"I've stopped taking the pill," she replied.

"What pill?"

"THE pill."

"Oh… OH!"

"I know we never discussed-" she began, but he was already on her, sweeping her up in his arms and carrying her up the stairs to their bedroom to make passionate love to her.

Thirty-eight weeks and two days later, Sarah sat on her knees in a tub of warm water. She leaned forward, resting her fevered forehead on the cool edge of the tub while Jareth held her hand in one of his and rubbed her naked back with the other. The doula they had hired scurried around in the background.

"You're doing fine, love," he said.

"Tell me again," Sarah groaned when the doula stepped out of the room for more towels, "Why can't I have drugs?"

"Because, Sarah dear, we don't know what effect they might have on a human/Fae child," Jareth told her.

"But it hurts so much, Jareth," Sarah said, panting. She looked up at him and he felt a stab of pain to his heart. He hated to see her so miserable.

"I can ease your pain a bit, my love," he told her. "But it's important for you to feel and know when to push."

"Isn't that why we hired a doula?" Sarah retorted. Jareth started to answer, but another contraction hit at that moment and Sarah cried out and gripped his hand so hard he saw stars.

"Breathe, love," he told her. He demonstrated the slow breathing technique they'd learned in birthing class, and though Sarah initially shot him a frightening glare, she eased back and followed his lead, breathing in deeply and slowly releasing.

"There now," he said as the contraction subsided and she relaxed again. "That wasn't so bad, was it?"

Jareth was lucky the doula returned at that moment or he might have been dragged into the tub and drowned.

"Let's see," said the woman, shooing Jareth from his seat beside the tub. She sat down in his place and Sarah leaned back and allowed the doula to examine her. The woman placed one hand on her swollen belly and the other between her legs, checking the dilation of her cervix.

"It's time to start pushing," she said. She helped Sarah position her legs into more of a squat and cushioned her back with rolls of towels.

"I can't do this," Sarah whimpered as she felt the rolling approach of another contraction.

Jareth returned to his place at her side and took her hand. "I'm here, love. You can do it. You can do anything."

Sarah gripped his hand and bore down.

Five pushes later, a chubby, bawling baby with dark hair and clear blue eyes wriggled out of her and burst out into the warm water of the bathtub.

"It's a boy!" announced the doula as she scooped him out of the water and placed him, still wailing, on Sarah's chest.

Cradling him against her breast, Sarah leaned down to peek at her son. His cries turned to whimpers and then to soft grunts as he settled against the familiar heartbeat. Jareth peered down over her shoulder at him.

"He's beautiful," he said, beaming. Sarah agreed. He was perfect. Dark fuzz covered his head and long, dark lashes framed his eyes. His brows bore the faint markings of his father's race, but in a subtle way that most people would never notice. He had a small pink bowtie mouth and round cheeks. His arms and legs were plump, with adorable dimples and rolls of baby fat.

"What is his name?" asked the doula.

Sarah looked up at Jareth and smiled.

"Kieran," they said in unison.

The End

A/N: And we are at the end... perhaps. I have a collection of snapshots I wrote to accompany this story because I just wasn't quite ready to let it go. Let me know if you'd like to read more and I will post what I have.

I wish you all the happiest of holidays. May you celebrate in joy and good health. Merry Christmas!

~Fanny~