Priest attends Claire's costume party and reunites with Flea three months after the bus stop.

It was a complicated spell, but Sarah knew it was nothing she couldn't accomplish with magic and little dandelion tea. The new moon was calling to her. She was finally ready. Jareth watched from a crystal with horrified eyes as she completed her preparations for her casting. Sarah had anticipated a quiet night of practicing her craft. She hadn't expected the Goblin King.

This story takes place six months after The Priest and Fleabag say goodbye. Claire is getting married. She asks Priest for a favour. Fleabag and Priest meet for a chat. One-shot (complete)

When nothing but the cold embrace of Death awaits her, Sarah yearns for the oblivion it offers. Watchful eyes will not let her end her loneliness.

Sarah froze. "You can read my thoughts?" "Not exactly," Jareth explained, "but I can feel them. The content of your thoughts are vague, but the emotions are palpable. There is a certain tug on my magic when you are thinking of my home realm. Or—" his eyes narrowed slightly, "—of me."

She cursed, picking up her pace. She'd gotten a late start. The sun was going down. It was getting cold. She usually enjoyed taking this route home, but tonight she was annoyed. Annoyed at herself for running late, and annoyed at that damn owl. Skidding to a halt in a small clearing, she whipped around. "Alright, Goblin King. Come out and play."