Sarah took a slow breath as she looked up at the stars twinkling merrily above the city. Everything around her—shapes and colors and sounds—seemed stark and bright and hyper-real. She gripped the bars of the iron railing, taking a second breath, pulling the cold air into her lungs, deeper and deeper, willing it to ground her; she wanted to feel it in her toes.

Just breathe…

She took a third breath. Her grip tightened around the bars.

No. Just breathe…

A fourth, fifth, sixth breath—each more shallow than the last. The tension in her grip crept up into her arms and seized her shoulders; she shook with the force of it.

The seventh breath seemed to lodge in her throat. She released it in a frustrated scream, shaking the railing as hard as she could; it banged loudly in its loose casing as she pulled and pushed at it until she ran out of breath. She slumped against the bars, pressing her face against the cool metal. The breathing came a little easier now; she tried to be still and let it.

Breathing is easy. She could do this. It was a piece of—

"You're upset about something."

Sarah bit her lower lip hard, holding back the litany of curses running through her head. She turned reluctantly toward the smooth, intrusive voice. Across from her, a low brick wall partitioned the open space; she suspected it housed some sort of electrical equipment, or whatever it was people put on roofs. Sprawled cat-like along the top of it was the Goblin King, because of course he would show up at just this moment.

She sighed, sliding down to sit on the cold concrete facing him. "Thank you, Captain Obvious."

"I've been demoted, I see."

"My profound apologies—" she waved her hand in a half-hearted flourish "—Your Royal Obviousness."

"Apology accepted." Jareth leapt down from the wall, sauntering toward her. "Though I think it's only fair to point out that I spend my days with goblins. Stating the obvious seems to take up the majority of my time."

She nodded slowly. "Point taken."

Sarah stood, turning and folding her arms on top of the railing, mimicking Jareth's pose beside her. They were quiet as they looked down over the city street five floors below. A pinpoint glow caught Sarah's eye, and she craned her neck, standing on tiptoes to better see the two men smoking cigarettes near the entrance to the building directly beneath her.

And to think she'd believed she would never use her high school physics.

She tried to remember: If the smoke was warmer than the surrounding air, it should rise, and since it was a relatively calm night, maybe if she positioned herself just right… She bent her knees and pressed her face against the railing, her nose lining up between two bars.

Just a whiff, that's all I need…

"What is it, exactly, that you think you're doing?"

"Trying to breathe," she said. She closed her eyes and inhaled slowly, all her concentration centered on her nose.

"This is something you have trouble with?"

Nothing. Not a trace.

Sarah groaned and turned around, slumping back against the railing. "Yes. I haven't been able to breathe this entire stupid day. I want to crawl out of my skin it's so goddamned suffocating in here."

"Not sure I'm following."

She let her head loll sideways to gaze up blankly at her former nemesis. "I need a cigarette."

He laughed lightly. "Is that all? They're rather easy to come by."

"I need a cigarette, but I can't have a cigarette."

"And why is that?"

"I quit. Six days ago."

"Because?"

"It's bad for you."

"I see." He reached inside his jacket, retrieving something she couldn't see from her vantage point. His gaze shifted downward, focused on whatever he was fiddling with. "This is something you actively do? Try to quit things you think are bad for you?"

Sarah quirked her lips disparagingly as she assessed the very-bad-for-you, though troublingly sympathetic, villain standing next to her. "Not as often as I should."

A small smile teased at the corner of his mouth.

Sarah shook her head as she turned around, hooking her arms over the railing. "It's my New Year's resolution, and I hate it. I've had a shitty day, and the only thing I can think about is having just one last cigarette. But I know if I have one cigarette, I'll have another cigarette, so I can't. And I hate it." She sighed, resting her chin on the arm closest to Jareth. "What about you? Do you have any New Year's resolutions?"

"Even I can't improve upon perfection."

"Silly me. Why did I even bother to ask?"

He shrugged, and in a swift movement, slipped a small piece of paper along the tip of his tongue.

Sarah lifted her head. "They can be goals too, you know…"

He slid her a glance. "Goals? How intriguing…"

Sarah watched intently as he rolled the paper between his fingers. "Even you must have something you want to accomplish..." Her voice drifted off as she leaned to peer over Jareth's arm.

"Now that you mention it, I—"

Sarah pointed at the small roll in his hands. "What is that?"

He turned to face her, leaning sideways against the railing. "This?" He raised it to eye level with one hand as the other conjured a small flame. "All this talk has put me in the mood for a little indulgence."

Sarah took a step back against her inclination to move forward. "But what is it?"

"I suppose you could consider it an alternative to your cigarettes, though perhaps not the other way around." He placed one end of the roll between his lips, lighting the other in the flame before dousing the small fire with a flick of his wrist. He closed his eyes as he breathed in, and then exhaled with what could only be described as a hum of supreme satisfaction. When he opened his eyes, he offered her a disarming smile. "Would you like to try it?"

She had been staring and she felt her eyes pop wide. "No. Nope. Absolutely not." She took a few steps backward before turning and walking away. She looked over her shoulder. "That's from the Underground, isn't it?"

"Where else?"

She looked away as she reached the railing on the far end of the rooftop, gripping the bars. "Yeah…no. You know, really, I just need to breathe. I just need to breathe and clear my head and get some fresh air—"

He laughed lightly, closer than before. "Oh, yes, fresh air. Because the city is flush with it."

"Okay, so maybe not the freshest air, but it's the best that I can do under the circumstances. Do you have a better suggestion?" She turned, exasperated, as she asked the question to find him standing directly behind her. He exhaled, the smoke drifting around her.

Sarah gasped, coughing as she stumbled a few steps away from him before sinking down in a crouch as it went straight to her head. "Oh, christ." She pressed a hand to her face, breathing into the cup of her palm as she tried to maintain her balance. "Fuck me, that's good…"

Jareth started to reply and she raised her other hand to stop him. "Shh! Not a wish. Completely rhetorical. Just go. You're a bad influence."

"Suit yourself."

She heard his boots clicking away from her on the concrete. She listened as they got further and further away, still crouched as the effects of the smoke began to clear and something more like panic settled in its wake. "Wait."

The footsteps stopped. Sarah rose and walked toward him, stopping just shy of arm's reach. She tilted her head as she held his gaze. "Is it dangerous?" she asked quietly.

"Completely harmless, though mildly hallucinogenic at full strength. I'm not sure you could handle it."

"I can handle it."

His lips curved in a dangerous smile. "So confident. Let's see, shall we?" He motioned for her to come closer with a curl of his fingers.

Sarah took two steps forward, eying him warily.

"You're going to have to come closer than that."

She closed the distance between them, moving in so that they were almost touching, a defiant gleam in her eye. "Like this?"

"Much better." The whispered words brushed her lips and she shuddered at the sensation.

Bringing the rolled cigarette up into the small space between them, he inhaled. "Ready?"

She nodded, her lips parting in anticipation. Leaning closer, he exhaled slowly against her lips, Sarah breathing it in. Almost immediately, her head began to spin. It was so much stronger than the first time.

"Oh, my…" She reached out, holding on to his arm to balance herself. The leather of his jacket was soft under her fingertips and she stroked it absently, her skin tingling and her senses in hyper-drive. "Um…wow."

She heard him laugh, and it sounded far away and all around her at the same time.

She leaned against him. He was so warm and solid. "Is this addicting?"

"No, but I can't vouch for anything you might experience under the influence." He wrapped an arm around her waist, holding her up and against him.

She looked up into his eyes. "And how do I get more?"

From beneath her lashes, she saw him flip open a slender silver case, neat little rolls lined up in a pretty row.

"I'd be happy to supply you with anything you want..." She reached toward it and he snapped it shut. He smiled. "For a price."

~o0O0o~

Author's Note: Written for Labyfic's Winterfest 2014 on LiveJournal (link in my profile). I threw this together in the 24 hours before it was due (procrastination – yay!), so please forgive the lack of polish because now I'm too lazy to edit it. And although it's not super wintery, it is somewhat seasonally appropriate.

Thanks for reading! Please leave a contribution in the little box. ;)

Disclaimer: Labyrinth (c) Henson & Co.