"Hmmm..." Her black-and-orange wings catching the afternoon sunlight that dappled down through the trees at the edge of the meadow, Ms. Bracegirdle rubbed the tip of her proboscis. "Interesting vibrations..."

Dave tried not to notice the sweat dampening the back of his neck, his socks suddenly too tight, his necktie clenching his throat. Just because this moment was either going to destroy his every dream or send him spiraling upward into rose-scented bliss, that wasn't any reason to get nervous.

Ms. Bracegirdle fluttered into a hover beside Dave's ear and waved a middle arm toward his presentation, a bubble of silvery moonlight that bobbed up and down above one of the meadow's azalea bushes. "It's pleasant enough, of course, David—your work is unfailingly so and has been ever since you joined the company." With her other middle arm, she tapped the clipboard she was holding in her upper arms. "But I'm sensing more whimsy than nonsense, and alas, that's not the effect we're after."

Taking a breath—now or never!—Dave reached for the bubble. "If I might, Ms. Bracegirdle?" Its surface squishy in his fingers like a not-quite-fully-inflated balloon, he squeezed it to let its dust shimmer out over them both.

Immediately, the sun became the moon, day became night, and the breeze that had been rustling the branches became quiet bossa nova music. Ms. Bracegirdle gave a gasp, looking down at the 1930s-style cartoonish half human, half butterfly she'd become, her newly sweet curves wrapped in a little black dress.

A quick glance showed Dave that he'd changed into a similar hybrid, his wings black and gray, a white bow tie now around his neck and a white top hat between his antennae. Doffing his hat, he held his other three arms out to Ms. Bracegirdle. "I'd like to request the honor and pleasure of this dance."

She smiled, batting sudden eyelashes. Swooping over, her clipboard nowhere in sight, she took his hands in hers, and Dave didn't even try to stop his top hat from doing a flip at her touch. The music rose, and holding her close, Dave twirled them into the evening sky, the rhythm coaxing the song's lyrics out of him even though he wasn't much of a singer: "I'll see you in my dreams, hold you in my dreams. Someone took you out of my arms; still I feel the thrill of your charms. Lips that once were mine, tender eyes that shine: they will light my way tonight. I'll see you in my dreams."

Her eyes did indeed shine in the moonlight. Leaning into his embrace, she opened lips she'd never had before and touched them to his, her kiss shivering him with a warmth he'd only ever let himself imagine. The music swept over them—

And then it was gone, Dave blinking at the daylight, his two feet wrapped once more in shoes and settled firmly on the grass of the meadow. Ms. Bracegirdle, entirely a butterfly again, quivered in front of his nose with a whispered, "Oh, my."

Silence stretched before she shook herself, drifted a bit away from him, and raised her clipboard. "Again, David, very pleasant. But where exactly was the nonsense?"

Dave had to swallow before he could get his voice to work. "Any sort of romantic relationship between you and me could never be anything but nonsense." The words jabbed his throat like shards of glass. "You're my boss, after all, and, well, the species thing, too, I guess..." Another swallow, and he turned back to the silvery bubble, numb hands reaching up to deactivate it. "Sorry to have wasted your time, ma'am."

"But you didn't." Ms. Bracegirdle antennae were sticking straight up. "I mean, this...this could be a revolutionary form of nonsense, David, a form that makes impossible dreams come true." She made several marks on her clipboard. "It's exactly the sort of thing I'd expect from our newest senior partner."

Freezing in place, Dave wasn't sure he was still breathing. Had she just said—?

"Now," she murmured, and something soft as dandelion fluff stroked his right ear, "perhaps you'd be so kind as to take me through your presentation again? Merely for quality assurance purposes, of course..."

A rush of heat glued every shattered bit of his insides back together. He turned to her, perfect and beautiful, and gently squeezed more silver dust over them.