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D iana stood in front of her wardrobe, scowling at her clothes as if they had personally offended her. This was ridiculous. She was a professional healer attending a professional dinner to discuss professional matters. There was absolutely no reason to care what she wore.

"It's not a date," she told her reflection firmly. "It's a consultation about plants with colleagues. At a troll restaurant. Where people go on dates. But this is definitely not that."

Her reflection looked unconvinced. Traitor.

With an exasperated sigh, Diana pulled out a simple blue dress she typically wore for faculty functions. Professional but not stuffy. Attractive without being obvious about it. Not that she cared whether Alarick found her attractive.

As she applied a touch of lip color—purely out of respect for the social occasion and absolutely not because Alarick might notice—a knock at her door made her jump.

Diana opened the door to find Alarick standing there, dressed in dark trousers and a charcoal button-down that made his eyes look more intensely blue than usual. His sleeves were, for once, actually at his wrists, though the top button of his shirt was casually undone. He'd clearly showered recently, his dark hair still slightly damp, smelling faintly of sandalwood instead of his usual bouquet of sawdust and magical sealant.

"I thought we might walk over together," he said, then added with a hint of amusement, "unless you'd prefer to maintain plausible deniability by arriving separately."

Diana rolled her eyes, trying to ignore how good he looked. "Don't be dramatic. It's dinner, not a clandestine affair."

"Affair," he repeated, eyes twinkling. "Interesting choice of words."

"Professional collaboration," she corrected, locking her door with perhaps more force than necessary. "I meant professional collaboration."

"Of course. My mistake."

"How's the lumber order coming for the infirmary?" Diana decided to start the evening as she meant to go on: professionally.

"Finally arrived this morning. Magical oak that won't interfere with your healing spells." He glanced at her. "I got the self-leveling nails too."

"The ones that adjust if the building shifts?"

"Exactly. Only the best for your infirmary."

"It's not my infirmary," she corrected automatically.

"No? Then why did I find 'Property of Diana Maelstrom: Touch At Your Peril' burned into the old reception desk?"

"That was there when I arrived," she lied, fighting a smile. "Probably from the previous nurse."

"Uh-huh. And I suppose the tiny magical trap that turned my measuring tape into a snake was also pre-existing?"

Diana couldn't quite hide her smirk. "You did say you wanted to get more comfortable with the local wildlife."

Alarick laughed, a rich sound that did absolutely nothing to her pulse rate. Nothing at all.

The Grumble and Brew loomed ahead, a rustic stone building with windows that glowed an alarming shade of orange. Smoke puffed from the chimney in perfect rings that occasionally transformed into miniature dragons before dissolving.

"Ever been here before?" Alarick asked as they approached.

"Once. The napkins tried to fold me into origami."

"Sounds like fun," he teased, opening the heavy wooden door for her.

Diana didn’t bother dignifying that with an answer, especially since that conjured up all sorts of naughty images in her head. The Grumble and Brew was aptly named—a low, constant rumble pervaded the space, punctuated by occasional bubbling sounds from various corners. Enormous copper cauldrons hung from the ceiling, some actively brewing mysterious concoctions that emitted sparks in rainbow hues.

Ceries waved enthusiastically from a corner booth, where she sat with her husband Thaddeus. Diana noticed the table was set with what appeared to be two oversized bubbling cauldron cocktail, each with two straws. Subtle.

"Diana, Alarick, you made it." Ceries beamed as they approached. "And you came together. That’s intriguing.”

"We live in the same corridor," Diana said flatly

"We understand completely," Thaddeus said.

An enormous troll wearing a stained apron and a chef's hat that had clearly seen better decades lumbered over to their table.

"Welcome to Grumble and Brew." His voice matched the restaurant's ambient rumble perfectly. "I Chef Grimcrack. You try special tonight?" He slammed down four menus that appeared to be carved from thin slabs of petrified wood.

"What's the special?" Diana asked suspiciously.

Grimcrack grinned, revealing teeth that could generously be described as "mostly present."

"Volcanic Rock Steak. Cook on enchanted lava stone at table. Very romantic for couples." He looked meaningfully at the four of them. "Stone heated by thousand-year-old volcano. Legend say couples who share meal—"

"I’ll take one," Diana interrupted hastily. “Just one. For me.”

Grimcrack looked disappointed. "Less romantic that way. But still delicious."

"Can’t have that," Alarick said. “I’ll have that as well.”

Grimcrack brightened considerably. "More Bubbling Cauldron Cocktails? Very good. Make conversational inhibitions dissolve. Perfect for romantic first date."

"It's not a date," Diana corrected automatically.

"Second date?" Grimcrack asked hopefully.

"It's not a date at all," she insisted. "We're colleagues discussing herbs."

"Herbs," Grimcrack repeated skeptically, looking between them. "Sure. Grimcrack add extra aphrodisiac herbs to steak rub then."

"That won't be necessary—" Diana began, but the troll was already lumbering away.

"Well," Ceries said cheerfully, "shall we discuss those healing herbs I’m growing for the infirmary? I've been experimenting with a new variety of calming mint that changes color based on the patient's level of anxiety."

"That could be useful," Diana admitted, relaxing into the professional conversation. "If we could visually gauge anxiety levels..."

"The only problem is that it sometimes makes patients temporarily change color too," Ceries added. "I had a student turn bright purple during testing."

"Better than what happened with the singing medicine cabinets," Diana said, shooting Alarick a pointed look.

"Those cabinets were a masterpiece of magical craftsmanship," he protested with a grin. "Not my fault the enchantment had a few quirks."

"My favorite," Thaddeus chimed in, "was when Principal Starcatcher came in for his hemorrhoid cream and the cabinet started singing 'Ring of Fire.'"

Ceries nearly choked on her water while Alarick dissolved into laughter.

Grimcrack returned, placing slabs of glowing stone before them. "Volcanic rocks ready. Put raw meat on top." He slammed down plates of thinly sliced steak. "Meat cooks while you eat."

The rocks emanated intense heat.

"Oh, and steak knife charmed to cut perfectly every time," Grimcrack added proudly, handing Alarick an enormous, slightly rusty knife. "Just like Grimcrack's heart when see beautiful love story beginning at table seven."

"Table seven would be us," Thaddeus explained helpfully, raising his glass toward Diana and Alarick.

Diana pointedly ignored this and placed a slice of steak on her volcanic rock, watching it sizzle. "So, about those herbs..."

The conversation flowed more easily as they ate, the excellent food and Bubbling Cauldron Cocktail (which tasted like jalapeno spiced mango juice with an absinthe kick) creating a relaxed atmosphere. Diana laughed at Alarick's story about accidentally turning a door into plaid instead of plywood.

"It's not my fault," he insisted. "The magical hardware store gave me enchanted wood stain instead of sealer."

"Is that why the east wing bathrooms still lock and unlock based on people's zodiac signs?" Thaddeus asked.

Alarick looked momentarily embarrassed. "I'm still working on a fix for that."

"Capricorns have been holding it for days," Ceries added with mock seriousness.

Their laughter was interrupted by a crash from the kitchen, followed by Grimcrack's booming voice: "NO EXPLOSION! EVERYTHING FINE! SMOKE PART OF AUTHENTIC EXPERIENCE!"

Diana caught Alarick's eye across the table and found herself unable to look away. The warm light from the volcanic rocks cast a glow across his features, highlighting the humor in his eyes and his sexy smile.

"You've got sauce," he said softly, gesturing to the corner of his own mouth.

"Oh." Diana quickly dabbed her napkin against her lips, only to have the napkin fold itself into a tiny heart. She crumpled it immediately.

As dinner progressed, Diana found it increasingly difficult to maintain emotional distance. Alarick was intelligent, charming, and frustratingly easy to talk to. Worse, he seemed genuinely interested in her perspectives, asking thoughtful questions and actually listening to her answers.

By the time they were finishing dessert—a confection that occasionally levitated above the plate and had to be caught quickly before it floated away—Diana had consumed just enough of the Bubbling Cauldron Cocktail to feel pleasantly warm and dangerously relaxed.

"We should probably head back," she suggested, noticing how Ceries and Thaddeus kept exchanging steamy glances. The cocktail and the volcanic rock steak seemed to be working on that side of the table.

"Good idea," Alarick agreed. "I've got an early lumber delivery tomorrow."

Thaddeus and Ceries barely noticed they had left. Outside, the night air was cool and refreshing after the warmth of the restaurant. Stars twinkled overhead in formations that occasionally rearranged themselves into new constellations.

"That was... not terrible," Diana admitted as they walked back toward the academy.

"Such enthusiasm," Alarick laughed. "But I'll take it."

As they walked back from The Grumble and Brew, Diana noticed a small group of garden gnomes following at a distance, carrying what appeared to be a miniature collection of medical supplies and warding tools arranged in a peculiar pattern.

"Is that... are they making some sort of shrine?" she asked, bewildered.

Alarick glanced back and chuckled. "Garden gnomes are sensitive to magical harmonies. Professor Winterbloom says they can detect compatible magical signatures before humans notice anything."

"Compatible magical signatures?" Diana repeated, suddenly remembering the strange warmth she'd felt when their hands touched. "That's ridiculous. Garden gnomes collect shiny objects, not... relationship predictions."

"Of course," Alarick agreed too quickly, but Diana didn't miss how he watched the gnomes with curious interest before they ducked behind a bush, whispering among themselves.

As they got closer to the school, a thunderous crash from made them pick up the pace. Hurrying onto school grounds, they saw the practice hall doorway billowing purplish smoke. A student staggered out, coughing violently.

"What happened?" Diana demanded, already casting diagnostic spells.

"Shield charm experiment," the student gasped. "Fontina tried to modify it. It backfired."

Diana followed Alarick into the haze. They found a girl slumped against the far wall. Diana immediately began assessment spells while Alarick created a protective bubble around them.

"Magical shock and smoke inhalation," Diana reported. "We need to get her to the temporary infirmary."

Alarick nodded, carefully lifting the student. His protective bubble maintained itself around them as they moved. The temporary infirmary was dark when they arrived, but lights immediately flickered on as they entered—one of Alarick's innovations that Diana had secretly appreciated.

He stood by, silently offering support and being there to hand her a potion or salve. When magical residue threatened to interfere with the healing process, Diana instinctively adjusted her approach to work within his protective field.

Finally, the student's condition stabilized.

"She'll need to stay overnight for observation," Diana said, adjusting the final healing charm. "But she should make a full recovery."

"That was impressive work," Alarick said quietly, his eyes on Diana rather than the patient.

She looked up, suddenly aware of how closely they stood, the adrenaline of the emergency still coursing through her veins. "We work well together," she admitted.

"Yes," he agreed. "We do."

Something in his voice made her pulse quicken. Diana turned away, busying herself with monitoring charms. "You should report this to Principal Starcatcher. I'll stay with the patient."

"I'm not leaving you alone," he said simply.

"I'm perfectly capable—"

"I know you are," he interrupted gently. "That's not why I'm staying."

Diana met his eyes again, the unspoken tension between them almost palpable. "Why are you staying, then?"

Before he could answer, the student stirred, groaning softly. Diana shifted her attention to her patient, grateful for the interruption yet somehow disappointed by it.

After checking the student's vitals and helping her take a sip of healing potion, Diana settled back into her chair. The girl had drifted off to sleep again, her breathing steady and even.

"You know," Alarick said quietly, pulling up a chair on the opposite side of the bed, "I've been wondering something."

"What's that?" Diana asked, adjusting the monitoring charm hovering above the patient.

"Is the thought of us—you and me—really so terrible?" His direct gaze made evasion impossible.

Diana looked down at her hands. "It's complicated."

"Because of our age difference?"

"Partly," she admitted. "But also because of our professional relationship."

"You think people would question your judgment. Your professionalism."

"Wouldn't they? The younger man, the older woman... you know how people talk."

"Anyone who's seen you work would never question your expertise," he said with quiet conviction. "Besides, I've always had a thing for accomplished women who know what they're doing."

Diana's eyes widened. "You're not helping your case."

His laugh was soft but genuine. "My point is, I know what I want. And what I want is you, Diana. Not because you're older or despite it. Just because you're you."

The directness of his words left her momentarily speechless. Before she could formulate a response, the patient stirred again, murmuring something in her sleep.

Something shifted between them in that moment, a subtle but unmistakable change that made Diana's heart race. Alarick saw her not just as a healer but as a woman, and for the first time in years, Diana wasn't sure which frightened her more—the possibility that he might stop looking at her that way, or the possibility that he wouldn't.

"You should get some rest," she told him. "Tomorrow will be busy with the lumber delivery."

"What about you?"

"I'll stay with my patient."

He studied her for a moment, then nodded. "I'll come back in the morning. With breakfast." His smile turned mischievous. "Not that I'm trying to impress you with my responsible adult qualities like punctuality and food provision."

Despite everything, Diana found herself smiling. "That's not necessary—"

"I know." The warmth in his expression made something flutter inside her. "Good night, Diana."

After he left, Diana settled deeper into her chair, trying to make sense of the confusing emotions swirling within her. Whatever was happening between them shouldn't be allowed to develop further. She had her career to consider. Her professional reputation.

Fontina suddenly murmured, "Mr. Blackthorn is dreamy," despite being soundly asleep, "but he only has eyes for Nurse Maelstrom."

Diana nearly fell out of her chair. "That's the magical shock talking," she told the sleeping student firmly. "Go back to sleep."

But as she settled back to wait for morning—and the man who would arrive bearing breakfast—Diana wondered if perhaps the patient's magical shock had simply revealed what everyone else already seemed to know.

.