Medb's eyes sparkled with a mischief so potent it could make a saint's halo wobble. She sat cross-legged on the bed, flipping through the pages of an ancient, leather-bound book with an expression that could only be described as a cat's grin. The room was a mess, littered with forgotten coffee cups and textbooks that had seen better days. The fading afternoon light danced across her long, pink hair, making it seem as if it was made of spun sugar.

Scáthach leaned against the doorframe, her arms folded over her chest, eyeing her wife with a blend of exasperation and affection. Her own hair, dark as a moonless night, was pulled back into a practical bun, not a strand out of place. "What are you up to, love?" she asked, her scarlet eyes narrowing slightly.

Medb looked up from her book, her golden eyes alight with excitement. "Just a little something for the archaeology department's fundraising gala tonight," she said, her voice as sweet as a lie wrapped in honey. "A surprise."

Scáthath knew that look. It was the same one Medb had worn when she'd convinced her to take the "shortcut" through the haunted forest, or the time she'd accidentally turned their neighbor's prize-winning garden into a field of four-leaf clovers. The air in the room grew thick with anticipation, and a tiny voice in the back of her mind whispered, "Run." But she'd never been one to shy away from a challenge. "What kind of surprise?" she asked, her curiosity piqued despite her better judgment.

Medb's grin grew wider, showing a hint of feline sharpness to her teeth. "Oh, you know me," she said, her eyes twinkling. "Just a little... enchantment. To make the evening more memorable."

Scáthach sighed and stepped into the room, her boots thudding against the old oak floorboards. "Medb," she warned, her tone a mix of amusement and seriousness. "You know the rules. No using magic outside the confines of the Otherworld. And especially not on the students."

Medb looked up at her with those wide, innocent eyes, batting her lashes. "But, Scáthach," she protested, her voice as smooth as a silk scarf sliding over skin. "It's just a little charm. Nothing that would cause any real trouble."

"Famous last words," Scáthach muttered, shaking her head. But she couldn't help the smirk that tugged at her lips. Medb's schemes had a way of backfiring, but they always ended up with a good story to tell. And if she was being honest, she liked the thrill of the chaos her wife brought into their lives. "Alright, but if the dean calls me, I'm blaming you."

The archaeology department's fundraising gala was held in the grand hall of Trinity College, the air filled with the scent of expensive perfumes and the sound of clinking glasses. Medb had managed to convince Scáthach to wear a modern outfit, a feat that had taken more magic than any enchantment she could have concocted. The coat was a deep gray that complemented her eyes, but Scáthach felt more comfortable in her usual armor and sword.

As the evening progressed, Scáthach kept a watchful eye on Medb, who was flitting from group to group like a hyperactive butterfly, dropping hints about the surprise. The students and faculty were buzzing with excitement, their eyes lighting up with the prospect of something extraordinary happening.

The moment of truth came as the auctioneer took the stage, his gavel poised to start the bidding for the night's main attraction: an exclusive dig at a newly discovered ancient site. Medb slipped away, her pink hair blending into the shadows like a chameon's tail. Scáthach felt a knot in her stomach.

Suddenly, the lights dimmed, and the sound of a harp filled the room. A spotlight illuminated a podium that hadn't been there a moment ago, and on it sat a glowing, golden apple. The crowd gasped, and whispers of "Magic!" began to spread like wildfire.

Medb stepped into the light, her eyes gleaming. "Ladies and gentlemen," she announced dramatically. "The real treasure of the evening is not what you can bid on, but what you can find within yourselves!"

Scáthach facepalmed. This was going to be one of those nights.

"Behold," Medb continued, her voice echoing through the hall, "the Apple of Avalon, said to bestow the wisdom of the ancients upon the worthy!"

The room was a tableau of shock and awe, a blend of whispers and gasps that grew louder by the second. Scáthach had to admit, the apple looked impressive, but she knew Medb had probably picked it up from a local farmers' market and sprinkled some fairy dust on it.

Medb took a dramatic pause, her grin never faltering. "But how to determine who among you is truly worthy?" She waved her hand and the apple began to levitate, spinning lazily in the air. "Why, a contest, of course!"

The crowd erupted into murmurs of excitement. Scáthach felt a headache forming. She knew her wife was going to turn this academic gathering into something out of a medieval carnival.

"Each of you shall be paired with an artifact from the college's collection," Medb announced, snapping her fingers. The floor trembled and artifacts began to float up from hidden compartments, landing gently before the guests. "You shall present your knowledge and wit before the apple, and it shall decide your fate!"

Scáthach watched as the guests paired up with their artifacts, some looking thrilled, others utterly confused. She had to hand it to Medb, she knew how to work a room. The tension grew as the contest began, each participant eager to impress the floating apple.

One by one, they approached the podium, recounting tales of ancient battles and forgotten lore. Some spoke with confidence, others with trembling voices, but all with the hope of being deemed "worthy" by Medb's whimsical magic.

A young student took the stage, her hands shaking as she held a bronze dagger. She recounted the weapon's history, her voice growing stronger with each word. The apple hovered closer, as if listening intently. Then, it spun faster, glowing brighter, before coming to a sudden stop. The room held its breath.

Medb's eyes flashed with mischief. "You, young scholar," she said, pointing to the girl. "You've captured the essence of the past!"

The apple shot through the air, landing with a gentle thump in the student's hand. The crowd erupted into applause, and the girl's face lit up like a thousand suns. Scáthach couldn't help but chuckle at the sheer absurdity of it all.

As the gala continued, the contests grew wilder, the apple seemingly alive with a mind of its own. It zipped around the room, teasing and taunting the contestants. But every time it chose, there was no denying the genuine excitement and joy on the face of the recipient.

Scáthach had to admit, despite the chaos, the evening was a success. The archaeology department's funds had never been higher, and the buzz of excitement was palpable. Medb had managed to weave a thread of wonder through the stuffy academic air, and even she had to tip her hat to her wife's creativity.

But as the night drew to a close, and the last contestant walked away with their prize, Scáthach couldn't shake the feeling that the real adventure was just beginning. With Medb, it always did.

The grand finale was announced, a duel of knowledge between the most esteemed professors of the college. Scáthach groaned inwardly, knowing she'd be roped into this. Sure enough, Medb's golden eyes found hers across the room, sparkling with challenge.

"You and I, my love," she called out, her voice carrying over the chatter of the crowd. "We shall battle for the honor of the apple's final judgment!"

Scáthach rolled her eyes, but couldn't help the smirk that tugged at her lips. The room erupted into cheers and applause as she made her way to the podium, taking her place opposite her wife.

The rules were simple: answer a series of questions about ancient lore and artifacts, and the apple would decide who was more worthy. Medb's questions were clever, designed to test the limits of Scáthach's knowledge, but she met each one with confidence, drawing on her centuries of experience.

The tension grew as the final question was asked, the air in the hall thick with anticipation. The apple hovered between them, casting a soft golden light on their faces. The crowd was silent, waiting for the outcome with bated breath.

And then, without warning, the apple shot straight up into the air, bursting into a shower of glittering confetti. The room exploded in laughter and applause as the confetti rained down, sticking to hair and clothes like a celebration of academic triumph.

Medb winked at Scáthach, her mischief evident. "I guess we're both worthy," she said with a smirk, taking her wife's hand.

Scáthach couldn't help but laugh, pulling her into a kiss. "You always know how to make a night memorable," she whispered against Medb's lips.

As they stepped down from the podium, hand in hand, the whispers of amazement turned into a chant of "Encore! Encore!" The two queens of chaos exchanged a look, and in that moment, Scáthach knew that their adventures in the mortal world were far from over. But as long as they had each other, they could handle whatever came next with the grace of a cat landing on its feet, and the roar of a lion in battle.