Both had anticipated the kiss. Both had waited anxiously, playfully teased and tormented the other, built up the anticipation until it was palpable. With such high expectations, it's only natural that the risk of disappointment was high and it is my sad duty as an author to report that there was indeed disappointment. I wish it were not so, dear reader, but it is true; Jareth and Sarah were disappointed in their first kiss. THE kiss we all dream of, was a disappointment.

Now, now, cherished reader before you decide to rally the troupes and hunt me down for daring to suggest that our beloved couple's first kiss was anything less than mind-melting, please, hear the tale. For I think upon hearing the tale, you will not feel the need to have me drawn and quartered…at least, I can only hope.

You see, despite her griping about what is known widely as 'the peach incident', Sarah developed a deep love of peaches. Her favourite cobbler; peach. Her favourite smoothie; peach passion. Her favourite body spray, body butter and soap; peach. Yes, Sarah was completely enamoured with peaches…and though she'd never say so, she'd always dreamed that her Goblin King's kisses would taste of peaches. It is because of this secret desire that the kiss disappointed her. Her Goblin King, the man of her dreams, her nightmares, did not taste like peaches; and though the kiss was perfectly executed, perfectly enjoyable, and made her ache for another…it was still disappointing. So much so, in fact, that it happened to be the first thing out of her mouth.

The two parted from their kiss, gazed at each other with identical looks of slight confusion on their faces and Sarah broke the silence.

"You don't taste like peaches…at all."

Though under any other circumstances, this might insult the Goblin King, Jareth was far too occupied with his own disappointment. For he too had a secret dream, and his response echoed his disappointment.

"You don't taste like rain, in the least."

It took a few moments, but eventually both registered the comment the other had made. Jareth's eyebrow raised.

"You expected me to taste of peaches? And what, pray tell, do I taste like?"

Sarah blushed lightly.

"Maybe. I'm not entirely sure what you taste like, some sort of spice…nutmeg maybe…. You expected me to taste like rain? Who the hell tastes like rain?"

"Nymphs,"

She raised an eyebrow at him questioningly and he cursed his automatic response and mentally decreed it time to shut his mouth, lest he anger Sarah with any more clues towards his youthful indiscretions. The two stood quietly, neither certain what to do. The disappointment was…well for lack of a better word, disappointing. Sarah regarded him thoughtfully.

"It wasn't a bad kiss…was it?"

Jareth smirked.

"I enjoyed it, despite the lack of rain flavour."

She nodded.

"Me too,"

Jareth's smirk turned into a full fledged grin as he wrapped an arm around Sarah's waist and brought her closer to him.

"Well, you know what they say, don't you?"

She looked up at him and shrugged.

"If at first, you don't succeed…"

She grinned.

"Try, try again."

And try again they did, again and again and again. Over time, Sarah found that she really preferred the slight nutmeg flavour Jareth had to that of peaches. Jareth, found that he preferred kissing Sarah in the rain rather than having her taste of rain. Neither shared this information with the other. After all, practice makes perfect and both believed the perfection was highly overrated compared to the pleasure of practice.

I leave you with this, gentle reader, hoping that you are now not so upset of the imperfection of the couple's first kiss; and I can only hope that you are blessed with such a disappointment.