Disclaimer: Per usual, my friends, I don't own Labyrinth, Jareth (Dang!), or anything else associated with the Jim Henson Company. Wish I did, but I don't. Everything else? Yeah that's mine, so HANDS OFF!

Notwritten: Aww, thanks so much!

Sammi C: I am the fluff queen. I am addicted to fluff, I guess. Meh.

SileaLove: You know, that was the answer I was most proud of. I just… worked. THANKS!!!

PyroSlytherin: Hee! I'm glad I could make you smile!!!

Salsagirl626: Oh! No candy? Sheesh! E-candy for you, then! (Which, if you don't know, is the best - no calories or, well, anything to it).

Anij: That is my story, and I am sticking to it… and I'm glad that I'm not a wooden puppet with nose issues, right about now.

DanikaLareyna: And I shall respond as you so frequently do, to me: Dork.

Renee: Hmm. I'm glad to see you're thinking ahead and being logical on things here… you're right, there are breaking points. All I'll say here is: keep reading. I promise, I won't make it all for naught.

Contraltissimo: Yes. I should NEVER tell Danika ANYTHING.

Drunken landlord: Aw, thank you! I shall pass along the regards.

Senshiofterrah: YAY! Another happy-dancer! Everyone needs a happy dance, don't you agree? Hee.

Miharu Kawashi: Oy, I agree with you on the commercialism of it all. It really just sickens me... since when has a frog with fuschia lips been a symbol for love? Blech.

Song Recommendations:

Dance, Dance, Dance by Wilson Phillips – remake of the Beach Boys' song, but whatever. I like this version… it's all bouncy.

Lucy Can't Dance by David Bowie – no idea why I picked this song… I just like it, I guess. It wasn't originally a favorite of mine and… this last week, it became one. Just like that. I've no clue how or why. Such is the power of Bowie, I guess. Heh.

Twistin' the Night Away­ by Sam Cooke – can you tell I'm on a dance kick, lately? Yeah, not even I get it. I'm dancing all over the danged house… driving everyone crazy… it's great.

Hallo everyone! Here is a brief note from me on this chapter, before we begin.

As you very well know, I am obsessed with this story. I'm always brainstorming ideas and jotting notes down in a small notebook I carry with me, almost all the time. Unfortunately, I come up with many ideas, some of them pretty dang good, but… they don't fit into any chapters, really, are too short to make a chapter all on their own, and aren't very expandable.

But… they're too good to just waste. I like them enough to jot them down, so… why not share them?

So here are some. More to come, eventually. Just a chapter of vignettes and shorts and silly little bits of nonsense and conversations I think of, from time to time.

I hope you all enjoy them.

Snow Globe

Jareth made a grab for my wrist. Not, say, a mad grab for my wrist, but when the Goblin King idly flicks his fingers towards your hand while discussing something completely different, and he suddenly isn't quite listening to what you are saying, you know it's a grab. Sure, it's subtle, but it's a grab.

I gently tucked my hand closer to my side, and continued with my topic.

Jareth listened and agreed with me… then leaned across and began fiddling with my sleeve. I shifted in my seat, turned to face him better, and moved my arm farther from him.

Bad move. His eyes flicked to my other hand.

I shifted and sat on it. Heck, I sat on both.

Even worse move – it was too obvious.

My topic was officially lost, and Jareth quirked an eyebrow at me. "Wren," he started in that, I-know-you're-hiding-something-from-me tone of voice, "Did something happen to your ring?"

"No," I said, perhaps a little too quickly, "It's fine, on my finger and fine."

He pursed his lips, "Ah, well… I am concerned about it… I should check it, to make sure the crystals are still set properly…"

My eyes went large, "You whoppin' liar, you know those crystals are just fine."

He leaned over from his beanbag chair to mine, "You are correct, I do know that, but what I do not know is why you refuse to let me see your hands. Just let me see…"

It was a challenge. I sucked in my lips and held his gaze…

"Fat chance!" I leapt upward, trying to make a dash for the door, but, I tell you, it was a highly futile attempt, especially when I'd been sitting on my hands to begin with. Jareth did a sort of cross-tackle thing, and had me pinned to the carpet in seconds.

And he had my hands. I'd lost.

"Zeke is going to die!" I shouted in frustration.

Ezekiel had dropped by, unexpectedly, with Melody and Harmony, earlier that day. The girls had been in an extra naughty sort of mood, and had gone to dig through my closet, coming forth with the bag of fingernail polish bottles that I hadn't used since, what, my junior year of high school? And even then it had been as a joke for an eighties party. I hadn't seriously worn those colors since junior high.

And, the girls being the girls, they wanted me to color their nails for them. Zeke had been the nice daddy and approved a not-quite-so-lurid color that they could wear. I had been the good aunt and colored their nails for them. Then… they made me color mine.

And they picked the colors.

It was embarrassing.

And Jareth had spotted it, way sooner than I'd hoped he would… which was, you know, never.

"What is this?" he asked, examining my fingernails.

I groaned, "Fingernail polish. The twins made me do it."

He was utterly fascinated. "How is it that I have not noticed this before now?"

I blinked at him, moving him over to the side so I could sit up. "Uh, how about because I don't wear the stuff? Haven't in years."

He looked up at me, confused, "Why not?"

I frowned and stuck my hand up in his face, "Uh, did you not notice the part where my fingernails are fluorescent orange with glitter on top?"

A faint smile crossed his lips, "Dearling," he said, leaning over my fingers and then lifting them up to shift them in the light, "You should wear it more frequently… do you own other colors as well?"

"Um… yeah… a few…"

He dropped my hand and turned his nose up, "Wren, I am absolutely wounded that you, firstly, did not mention this to me sooner, and, secondly, did not offer to share."

I snorted, "You are joking."

His nose went up higher, "I most certainly am not."

Now, it was my turn to raise an eyebrow, "So… even though you wear gloves all the time, and no one would see it, you'd like me to offer to paint your fingernails, what, 'vengeful violet' with… with… 'toffee crunch' glitter on top?"

He gave me the same look he did when he wanted to make cookies.

Around fifteen minutes later, Jareth and I were sitting cross legged on his balcony, surrounded with various sizes and shapes of small glass bottles and one pair of leather gloves.

"I can't believe I'm painting my boyfriend's fingernails…" I muttered, doing the second coat of 'vengeful violet' on his left hand.

Jareth was seemingly pleased with himself, going between looking at the nails on his right hand to picking up the bottles to examine the different colors I had.

As it happened, he wasn't all that fond of 'toffee crunch', which was simply gold glitter. No, instead, he was eyeing a different bottle.

"There," I said, finishing the violet. "You are now one step closer to becoming Ziggy Stardust. Congratulations."

He looked up, "Who?"

"Nevermind."

He held out a pale bottle of white, sparkly glitter, "I like this," he said.

I rolled my eyes, "Snow globe? You… ah, I guess that shouldn't surprise me, should it?"

He grinned, toothily, at me. I sighed.

"You do understand that, you know, no one will see this, right?" I asked as I daubed the color on his nails.

He sniffed, regally, "I shall see it, and that is all that matters."

When I had finished the job, he examined his fingers, gingerly, before looking up, as though he just had an epiphany. "Wren? If you can paint my fingers… can you also paint my toes?"

I smacked my forehead.

Proper Grammar

"Wren, are you done with the spreadsheet yet?"

I gritted my teeth and turned back to my computer, "Almost, Kay. I had to make a trip to the copy machine, and then to the fax… I will send it here in just two seconds, okay?"

"Thank you, Wren!" Kay said, frantically typing an email.

Poor Kay. She'd been sick, and then had come back to a boatload of work, and new responsibilities too. Allie and I, being that we had the ability to help her out, were doing what we could… we were glad to help her, because she was nearly working her self into a fearsome tizzy, but… it was still demanding on us all, and not very easy.

I filled in the last two lines and sent off the email with the info Kay needed.

I quickly hollered over to Allie, to check on how she was doing with her workload. I'd had some payments to make, so she'd taken on more than I had to help Kay, but now that I was done, I could help Allie get her stuff finished.

Allie slowly turned in her chair and looked at me, "What did you say?"

"I said…" I frowned, "Um… what did I say?"

Allie pulled a face, seemingly to stifle a giggle, "I think your exact words were, 'Allie, do you have an excess for which I might be able to assist you with'."

I shook my head, "No, that is not something I would say, Allie."

Her eyes narrowed, "You haven't been using contractions all morning, Wren."

"I…I…" I bit my lip. "Crap. He's rubbing off on me."

Relativity and Relations

Have I ever talked much about Jareth's throne? It's rather comfy, I must say.

Ah, okay, so it's not really quite as comfy as when I sit in it with Jareth. I'm hopeless, I know.

"Do you like your throne?" I asked him, as we sat watching the goblins.

"Hush," he whispered, "Or you shall miss the best part."

Squyshee and several other goblins were doing… something. I did not fully understand it, but the closest thing that I can use as an example to explain it, would be that they were putting on a play for their king. I giggled, because it reminded me of little kids putting on a homemade play for their father. Of course, it wasn't a play – it had some kind of meaning to it, where it was serious enough that Jareth did not dismiss it as mere foolery, but was also low key enough that I was, not only invited, but also permitted to wear whatever I pleased and sit on Jareth's lap.

But… I would never say it to them, especially to Squyshee… it was like a play.

I watched carefully as a pig wearing some kind of robe was lead through the middle of the production – which was, by the way, held just in the middle on the throne room, with only two large potted plants to mark what would be their stage… that is, of course, IF it was a play, and of course, it was not. Hee.

The pig was led through, and all the goblins on stage started squeaking with delight and dancing around. Squyshee was standing off to the side wearing a strange little headdress. I watched and he smiled at me, waving too, just before he stepped forward, in all seriousness, to the middle of the stage. Then, for no real reason that I could see, they all began dancing and singing little songs.

Jareth watched them, kindly. I marveled at him – being so gentle to these creatures that so many others, even myself long ago, thought to be disgusting. He was a rough ruler, I knew that, but no matter how tough he was I always could picture him handing a newly repaired toy back to a small goblin child… he was tough, but he still cared.

He turned to me, and then asked, in hushed tones, "Okay, now, you asked about my throne?"

I nodded, "Do you like it?"

He shifted around in his seat, giving me a squeeze around my middle and pulling me slightly closer to him, "Yes, I do."

I noticed he still kept an eye on the production before us. A chicken had now joined the dance. I watched him smile at them, and suddenly, for a moment, I wondered what kind of crazy antics Jareth himself had done, when he was so small.

I sighed. Jareth noticed.

"Something saddens you?" he asked gently, sparing me a concerned glance before he turned back to watch.

I shrugged and laid my head down on his shoulder, snuggling into his neck as much as I could and still be clearly watching the show, or whatever it was. "No, not really… I was just thinking…"

"About what?"

"About you, and what you must have been like as a child. I know your parents have passed on, and… I was just a little sad for it."

He gave me a curious look, "Why would you be sad for such a reason?"

"Well," I began, "You've met my family, but… it's just a little sad to me that I won't get to meet yours."

He laughed, a little, squeezing me again, "Oh, my sweet dearling, do not be too saddened by the thought. You have, after all, already met those I grew with and consider to be like unto my own siblings, Myanya, Dyer and Tillan. Then of course, there is…" he pulled a face, and I think one eye twitched, just a little, "Ah, never mind that."

I frowned and prodded his shoulder with my hand, "No, you opened that can of worms, now you have to finish the idea you started. What else is there?"

He heaved a sigh, still keeping an eye on the goblins, "Well… I do have a living relative. Distant, of course, but alive and connected by blood, all the same."

I perked up, "Who? Tell me about them! Can I meet him or her?"

He shook his head, "I do not think it is a good idea…"

"No!" I hissed, "Tell me! Can I meet this person?"

He clenched his jaw and pulled a face, "You already have, Wren."

I blinked. Who? Who had I met? The only real times I had met Fae, other than Jareth, was while I was on vacation… the dinner, and then the party… who did I meet?

"I got it," I lightly slapped his arm, "Lady Zanette, right? She totally could be related…"

"Ah, no," he shook his head a little, "It is not the Lady Zanette."

I frowned, "Then who…"

He cut me off, "Maxine."

I blinked again. Who… oh. No way. "Maxine? As in, Ridiculous Maxine?"

He nodded, grimly, "Yes, Ridiculous Maxine. She is a very – and I do stress this – very, very distant cousin of mine, related by the thinnest of bloodlines… but related, none the less."

I was having a hard time understanding this, "You mean, the 'blooming ducks' lady?"

He turned from the festivities, which had now progressed to acrobatic hops around in circles, with the chickens, and he gave me a pointed look, "Yes, Wren, else I would not have said so."

Recalling very hard, I did my best to draw the strange woman again in my mind. Frizzy hair, large eyes, and… pointed ears. I distinctly recalled the pointed ears. Now, Jareth had slightly pointed ears, but Tillan and Myanya, being half-elven, had stronger points… and at the party, I had been introduced to other elves, who's ears were extremely pointed. Maxine had been one of them… hadn't she?

"Wait, I thought she was an elf…" I trailed off and Jareth looked at me, "She had the really pointed ears…"

Jareth snorted, "Myanya, in a very sweet attempt to honor my family, will invite Maxine to parties often, especially if I am there. Some times she comes, some times she does not, but… being a large elven event, Tillan's celebration, Maxine went out and acquired fake ears, and attached them to her own. She does this, often, but I assure you, Wren, her ears are no more pointed than yours."

I began to snicker and wrapped my arms around his neck, "Aww! Look at you! Your cousin is off her rocker!"

He snorted, "And that is something she takes great pride in. Though, I would not say she is off the rocker, I would say the rocker has been hacked to bits and long since burnt as firewood."

Still laughing and chuckling to myself, I adjusted myself better on his lap and turned my eyes back to the display. A cheerleader-like pyramid, with the robed pig on top, was now in the middle of the dance.

I leaned in very close to Jareth's ear, "By the way… I never got around to asking… what IS this we're watching?"

He laughed heartily at them and smiled some more before he leaned in close to my ear and whispered, "I have no bloody idea."

What Wren Wasn't to Know…

No one can swivel their hips like Jareth can. I am not kidding.

He did some odd sort of salsa move before turning and sashaying across the hall. Several hops to the side, and then back, and then just swaying this way and that before swiveling some more…

Oh, good heavens. How was it possible for his hips to swivel one direction as he spun the other?

Oops. The music echoing in the room picked up tempo, and he began a cha-cha… almost a samba, if I wasn't mistaken. Then, when the heavy rhythms kicked in, it was like a tango… sorta… then back to the samba. Or was that a mambo? I really don't know dances that well.

Oh, well, I don't know dances that well… but I do know some things. I'm no dummy, thank you very much.

"Ahem."

The music came to a halt and Jareth spun to face me, his boots clicking on the stone floor. "Wren! Ah… when did you come? And… how did I, erm, not notice?"

I shoved my hands in my pockets, and rubbed a bit of stone with the toe of my sneaker. "I just came… you probably were having too much fun with your… happy dance…" I looked up, a sneaky grin on my face.

His face went blank and he raised his nose in the air, "Dancing is expected in the Underground, Wren…"

"Call me crazy," I said, ignoring him, "But did I hear something recently about a wager with Tillan? One that, oh, I don't know, he seemed so very sure of winning?"

Jareth sniffed, "And what of it?"

"And, oh, didn't Tillan point out, rather blatantly, that he is so very better at remembering names than you are, and that you had no chance of winning the wager?"

His lips went thin, "I do not recall…"

I eyed him, "Allie told me you got her middle name right – admit it!" I jabbed a finger at him, "You were doing a happy dance! I CAUGHT you!"

Jareth frowned, swaggering his way towards where I stood, just inside the doorway. When he was close enough, he leaned his face close to mine, and whispered, "Not on your life."

I snickered in his face, "The Goblin King has a happy dance!"

"I do not…" he straightened up and brushed past me, out of the dining hall and heading down towards his throne room, "… I have several… you were just never to see them…"

"AHA!"

Differences

I frowned, looking in the mirror. Several things struck me at once.

First off, why did Jareth really need a full length mirror in his room? Was he really that… primpy?

But that wasn't really what was on my mind. Mainly, I was thinking about myself in relation to Jareth. I was so… so… plain. I mean, sure, I didn't have any qualms about dating the Goblin King, and I wasn't about to start complaining, but… come on, I also wasn't going to lie about it.

"Do you ever think how strange we are together, Jareth?" I asked. He was lounging on a beanbag chair out on the balcony, with both doors opened wide, while reading some scroll in an odd language. I'd run in to use the restroom, and on my way back, I'd stopped and found myself staring at my reflection in his mirror.

"No, not really," he said, absently, from the balcony.

I frowned and looked at him, "Are you listening to me?"

He smirked from his chair, but didn't look up. "No, not really."

I snorted and gave him a look, "Hey, GK, I'm serious. I mean," I turned back to the mirror, "We are, physically, exact opposites. How… how can you and I work?"

His eyes blinked at me, "Are you attempting to find an excuse to end our relationship?"

"No!" I blinked at him, shocked slightly that he'd even suggest that. I did not like to think about that.

He sat his scroll down, got to his feet and came to stand beside me. "Then, why question, as you put it, how we work? Why not simply accept that we do?"

I faced the mirror again, "I don't know. It just kinda made me think here… Look," I motioned for him to face the mirror, standing beside me, "You are tall, thin, and lean. I'm short, round, and chubby. You have this amazing hair that just always looks great, mine is usually somewhat messy. You wear these great clothes with ruffles and all that, I am addicted to jeans and flip-flops. You're eyes could probably glow in the dark, mine are dull gray. And… you're a King, you're the Goblin King! Me? I'm just… me. Just Wren. Don't you think about that, from time to time? About how different we are?"

He looked at me, meeting my eyes in the mirror. He took a step to the side and stood just behind me, stooping just a little so he could wrap an arm around my shoulders and put his head on mine. "No, Wren, I do not. I do not worry about what makes us different, because you make me happy. You. Just you. The things that make you different, make you who you are. Perhaps if you were not so different, I would not be so happy."

I blushed and ran my hands over his arm that was holding my shoulder.

"But," he continued, "If you would like to analyze the situation further, I shall oblige. Now that you mention it, yes, we are very different," he turned me away from the mirror, and to face him, "In most ways, you and I are to each what the other is not. Do you agree?"

I nodded, "Yep."

His face softened and he pulled me to him, enfolding me in his arms, tightly, "Good. Now, notice how easy it is that I can rest my head on yours, and how you can wrap your arms around my waist."

"Okay, I notice." I smiled, more than happy to put my arms around him, and began to nuzzle his shirt with my nose.

"My chin is as fond of your hair, my Wren, as your nose is of my shirt, you know."

I paused and went very red. I guess I did nuzzle his shirt often when he hugged me. I looked up at him, "Okay, GK. What point are you getting at?"

He smiled down at me, "We are very different, dearling, but… perhaps together we are what the other needs? You are all that I am not, just as I am all that you are not. Apparently," he gave me a squeeze, "We fit well together. Does it not stand to reason that we are a match, filling in missing pieces for the other?"

I turned my head and rested against him, "Yes it does. Thank you, I needed to hear that."

With a kiss to the top of my head, he released me and headed back to the balcony. "Now, come back to the book you left here. This, erm, Harty Plooper and the Spiders from Mars?"

I rolled my eyes, "I am not even going to start on how badly you messed that up…"

A/N: Hee. I hope you all enjoyed these… heh… goblettes. I know I sure did. Man! It felt SO good to do a semi-random chapter, for a break in pace. I love plot, I do, but it really wears on an author, sometimes…

As always, read and review, my friends. You totally keep me going.

Much love,

Marti