When I asked Murphy to come over for the talk, this was not what I had envisioned. It was to be my big reveal. Finally proving that magic was real and I, Harry, really was a wizard. Probably not the best idea to take the reaction of an impostor dragon as an example of how it would really happen.

It all started just as planned. Murphy knocked on the door in her I'm-off-duty jeans and her don't-mess-with-me-I'm-relaxing flannel shirt. I chivalrously ignored the fact that the buttons of her shirt were not lined up, and the neckline was hanging awfully (wonderfully) low. She came in and made herself at home on my sofa and I dithered with making the tea. Did Murphy want tea? Or maybe beer? But I didn't have any beer, so back to the tea. And then I just couldn't put it off any longer.

"Murphy, you know I asked you over for a reason," I started, sitting on the coffee table in front of her.

Murphy waited. I stood back up and paced. In a very manly and assertive not-at-all nervous fashion.

"Um, Harry? Were you going to tell me that reason some time tonight?"

I sat down again on the sofa. "Yeah. I wanted to show you this." I reached out and called the hockey stick I used for a staff to me. It zipped through the air and came to rest in my hand. Perfect. With a pleased grin, I looked over at Murphy to gauge her reaction. She did not look overly impressed. Okay. It was time for a little light show.

With a small effort of will, I nudged the ward sigils spread all around the house so that they would glow. This had been the demonstration that sealed the deal last time. I looked over at Murphy to see why she wasn't exclaiming about how cool it was that magic was real. She just looked skeptical. Dammit.

"Why aren't you impressed here Murphy? I show you magic and you just smile at me like that. It seems you would be more excited."

Murphy just smiled at me and shook her head. "Harry. I know your father was a magician, and anybody worth his salt in that field could set up his own apartment for a couple of little special effects. But it's sweet that you tried."

Strike two.

"Weren't we going to have dinner sometime tonight?" Murphy asked gently.

"Yeah," I tried not to sound too depressed, "Sure Murph. Let's go grab some pizza."

----- -----

I had hoped that dinner would be a good opportunity for me to do... something clever and undeniably magic, but it wasn't to be. I did try. I had been molding a spell to make candle flames into a really impressive fireball that Murphy could hold in her hand when the waiter showed up with our dinner. The spell had to be released so that I could concentrate on the important task of savoring pizza. The beer hadn't been bad either. And the conversation had been fun. By the time we left the restaurant, I had forgotten the point of the entire evening.

When I did remember, Murphy and I were standing in my doorway bidding each other goodnight. I just stopped talking in the middle of a sentence and looked down at Murphy. I don't know what she saw in my eyes, but it made the smile slip from Murphy's face.

"Harry, what is it?"

"It's just that I need you to believe me, Murph. I need you to understand." Where had that come from? There was honesty, and then there was saying more than you should.

Murphy tilted her head and the corner of her mouth crooked up as her eyes flicked to my lips. The next thing I knew, her hand was on my face and I was being pulled down into a soft toe-melting kiss. Murphy was kissing me. And then she was moving away. "It's not that I don't believe you, Harry," she said, her voice almost a whisper, her breath warm on my cheek, "I'm just not ready." She stepped away from me then, and I let my hand fall from her waist (how did it get there?).

And then she was walking away. I stood there in my doorway, unsure as to whether I should attempt moving or if my legs would carry me back inside. I was rewarded for my gawping when Murphy tossed over her shoulder, "but you can definitely keep trying."

What is it about this woman that she keeps coming onto me while standing on my threshold? I don't know what's at work there between us. Maybe it's its own kind of magic.