Alright, this was just too much fun to write to letit end so quicklyso here I am again. I'm going to try to introduce a plot soon hereso we don't succumb to an overdose of pure fluff. And I'm not sure how consistant I'll be, considering that my muse has been jumping between projects lately and I'm afriad to try and direct her (she can be so tempremental, you know what I mean?).

Thank you so much to all reviewers! You rock my socks!

Please enjoy; hope you like it!

Sarah sat back in the library on one of the couches with her arms crossed, clearly disgruntled. Of course, that could have had something to do with the fact that she had just spent the last hour in an oubliette listening to a loop of some of the most grating tones she'd ever heard…or it could also have something to do with the shocking shade of pink her hair had turned, sticking up in random places in a near-semblance of spikes. Her eyes followed Jareth as he paced back and forth, her lips set in a grim line. Jareth turned to face her, a large splotch of color across his pale skin; though he had used his magic to dim the strange stain, he could not erase it completely but at least it wasn't shifting colors quite as distractingly.

"Did you enjoy the Goblin Symphony?"

Sarah only blinked slowly in response, resuming her glare.

"Oh, come now, what ever could be the matter?"

"Change my hair back the way it was."

"I could have given you a Mohawk, you know. The brother of the last child had an enormously tall one and I had to ask what it was."

"Change it back."

Jareth gave an odd half-smile. "Get rid of the magic paint. I'm a political figure. I can't afford to miss any appearances because the King of the Dragons thinks I'm coming down with a strange strain of Dragon Flu."

"I told you, I can't," Sarah sighed. (The splotch of color across Jareth's face switched from blue to lilac rather subtly.)

"My magic can't do anything against it. You're the only one who can."

"Look, I don't know how I did it," Sarah burst out, standing up and stalking toward the fireplace. "It was just a whim, a joke, a game."

"I'm used to winning games," Jareth commented.

"That may be so but the oubliette, that was a little harsh, don't you think?"

"Perhaps," he replied noncommittally. "But you were the one to mar my perfect looks, were you not?"

"Oh, is the Goblin King a little vain? I hadn't noticed how self-absorbed you were," Sarah stated sarcastically, gesturing lightly to the life-size portrait of the Goblin King over the fireplace. "Maybe I could just alter the picture. I bet I could manage that…"

"No, that will not be necessary," Jareth said as he caught her wrist. "Besides, I don't think you could do anything more tonight anyway."

"What makes you say that?"

"Well, you've only been here for a few days...I didn't even know when the magic would begin to affect you. Again you have surprised me but I imagine that you've used up your reserves for the time being."

"Wait, what else does 'the magic beginning to affect me' entail, here?"

"Immortality eventually, a bit of magic, crooked nose—"

"What?" Sarah shot out, confused.

"Not really, of course. But the green skin and warts complete with the drab black dress may be inevitable…" he continued, a smirk across his features.

Despite herself, a smile tugged at the corners of Sarah's mouth. "As long as I get a broomstick to fly on, I suppose I could put up with that…"

"Sorry, we only have mops."

"Is that so?"

"Unless you want a Harfbeck," Jareth added thoughtfully.

"What in the world is a Harfbeck?"

"You mean 'what in the Underground,' I believe," he replied cheekily.

Sarah rolled her eyes. "Fine. What in the Underground is a Harfbeck?"

"Oh, they're about this long by this wide," he gestured with his hands. "And they have a mouth about the size of your head and this strange yellowish-brown wrinkled skin. They eat a lot of the garbage in the streets, makes the roads more aesthetically pleasing and a fine meal for them, I understand."

"Uh huh," Sarah responded slowly. "Why on earth would I want to fly on one of those?"

"You wouldn't."

"Then why on earth did you bring it up?"

"Again, we're not exactly on Earth," he teased, wagging a finger.

"Fine. Why in the Underground did you bring it up?"

"You seemed interested in cleaning supplies for some reason."

Sarah sighed. "Okay, I've had enough. I'm going to bed. Could you please turn my hair back?"

"Since you've asked nicely, I'll meet you halfway," he said through a malicious grin. With a twist of his wrist, he flung the crystal at her. After reflexively flinching, Sarah walked over to a large mirror on the right of the fireplace. True to his word, the Goblin King had met her halfway: the left side of her head was still hot pink with random spikes jutting out but the other half was her smooth dark hair again.

"That's almost worse," she had to laugh at herself.

"I could change it back if—"

"No! It's alright!" Sarah interrupted.

"I didn't think the pink looked so bad," Jareth purred next to her ear as he fingered a few strands of pink.

Slightly uncomfortable, Sarah rebuked, "I do. You shouldn't mess up a girl's hair, Jareth. That's cruel." She bit her lip in thought for a moment. "I wonder…no, you're too dignified for me to ruffle your hair. It would just seem wrong."

Jareth arched an eyebrow, still awfully close. "What do you mean?"

Sarah smirked lightly. "This." She took both hands and mussed the Goblin King's wild hair. He stepped back quickly, surprised. Sarah laughed lightly. "Well, you did ask." She took a moment and looked at him pensively. "You know what? I think I smoothed it down more than mussed it up." She smiled again. "Trust Jareth to ruin the fun in that one."

He returned her grin with another patented Goblin King smirk. "Perhaps I will turn it all back to pink."

"You most certainly will not!"

"Dear me, a command from my own subject? This will not do at all. Pink it is." He waved his hand and her hair resumed the shocking shade of hot pink.

Sarah heaved another frustrated sigh but was too tired to fight much more. "Fine, I'm really going to bed this time. I'll try to conjure some hair dye tomorrow or something," she muttered.

"I trust you save your magic to undo this first," he gestured vaguely to the spot (a shade to rival Sarah's hair and slowly shifting to an unnatural orange) across his features. "Then your other problem would solve itself, now wouldn't it?"

"Perhaps," she yawned, slowly making her way toward the door. "I wouldn't exactly call you predictable, Jareth."

"But I am a man of my word," he pointed out.

"Alright, but for how long would you leave my hair the proper color? You can still be honest but adhere to your own terms, however unfair it may be."

"I still keep my word."

With all the grace of a goat on roller skates over a sheet of ice, a goblin burst through the door (which nearly smacked right into Sarah). "Ah, your majesty—" it froze for a moment then resumed in a smaller tone, "AH! I forgot to knock!" Before Jareth could say anything, the creature dashed to the door and yanked it shut. It rapped sharply on the other side before bursting in again, nearly colliding with the same table. "Your majesty!"

Jareth sighed, mildly grateful that it was one of his smarter goblins, "yes?"

"Permission to speak?"

"Yes, yes speak."

"Permission to relay a message?"

"Yes, relay it."

"Permission to—"

"Give me the damn message," Jareth growled, his patience thinning rapidly. Sarah watched the discussion with interest.

"Ah, uh, yes Sire." The goblin bowed deeply all the same. "Rease from the Eastern province claims that there has been another strange disturbance in his jurisdiction. He asks for your judgement in the matter."

"That's the fourth this week," Jareth muttered to himself.

"What's going on, Jareth?"

"That's what I've been trying to figure out, Sarah," Jareth replied, all hints of the earlier playfulness gone. "Something has been disturbing my kingdom for quite some time now. The other kingdoms of the Underground have reported similar issues but not near as many. Something is very wrong."

"Is there anything I can do?"

The corners of his mouth quirked slightly at her concern. "Perhaps there will be, if you can control your magic enough to be useful." Sarah mock-glared at Jareth and tried to ignore the stares of the little goblin who was either amazed by her hair color or her familiarity with his king.

To the goblin Jareth ordered, "Send a message that I shall see to it myself tomorrow morning."

"Yes, your majesty." He bowed deeply again, his large nose nearly scraping the floor. When he rose, he took a good look at his king. "Permission to ask a question, sir?"

Jareth sighed irritably, "I suppose."

"What happened to your—"

"OUT!" Jareth bellowed, certain as to where the question was heading. The poor creature scurried from the room fast as its little legs would allow.

And there we have it. Any guesses to the nature of the disturbances? Now a more important question: what shade will Jareth's face turn next?

Love it or hate it, please let me know! (any comments or ideas are more than welcome)

Happy Everything!