Tiana Wilkes didn't often find herself flustered.

Of course, most of the people she knew wouldn't have described her as "emotionally aware" in the first place, and they wouldn't be too far from the truth; however, there were a few feelings that Tiana did recognize when she wasn't working, making recipes, or creating a five-year business plan at the colored library. There was frustration—that usually reared its head when she was around Buford's denigrating sarcasm or the Fenner Brothers' casual racism served up with a side of simpering condescension. Determination and a sense of accomplishment were also quite familiar to her—she liked working hard on her goals, and she liked meeting them even more. And in the background, turned down low but always present, was loyalty—to her father, to her mother, and to her friends, Lottie in particular.

Those were the emotions she knew how to handle. Everything else went unacknowledged and undealt with, for the most part. So when she found herself unable to sleep after several hours of lying in bed on the second night after her and Naveen's return to New Orleans, she was more than a little worried.

She'd always been able to sleep. Always. In fact, given how little of it she had gotten in the past two years, it was something of a drug to her. So why was tonight any different?

"Maybe it's indigestion," Tiana mumbled to herself as she pulled herself out of bed and fumbled around in the dark to find the pull-cord of the pendant lamp that hung from the center of her room. The room was bathed with yellow light, and she was reminded of how sickly electric light looked in the middle of the night, which certainly didn't make her feel much better. Sighing resignedly, she slumped over to the rocking chair in the far corner of her room and eased herself back and forward, fingers knotting together restlessly. No, it couldn't have been indigestion; Mama had made Tiana and Naveen drink her special lemon and ginger-root tea for the past couple nights for the express purpose of calming internal organs that had been mixed and mangled up into God knows what shapes for three whole days. In spite of her ill feeling, Tiana giggled to herself at the remembrance of her mother's reaction to the unbelievable tale of her escapades. First, she'd nearly collapsed with relief and joy when she'd opened the door to find Tiana standing there, safe and whole and inexplicably clothed in a green silk and chiffon ball gown. Then she'd squealed with delight upon seeing Naveen and learning that her baby girl, who, in her words, "rolled her eyes at any man who so much as tipped his hat to her," was now clearly in love with and engaged (they'd decided a simple engagement would be easier to explain) to a handsome, honest-to-goodness prince. But when Eudora heard Naveen's dramatic retelling of the events, she'd nearly lost it.

"Shadow Man turned you into a WHAT?!" Eudora had screeched, dropping the china plate full of butter cookies she had in her hand. Tiana was miraculously quick enough to catch it, but Naveen barreled on excitedly, egged on by her exaggerated reaction.

"Si, madame, a FROG! A green, mucousy—though still quite charming—frog! Can you imagine! This body, ruined! And then they put me into a glass—can?"

"Jar," Tiana supplied absentmindedly, her attention fixed on Eudora's steadily widening eyes.

"Yes—a cruel glass jar, and closed the lid! I thought I was going to die, and as if that weren't bad enough, I would die as a frog, and no one would ever know what had become of me! I was sure that my homeland of Maldonia, mi adore, would be paralyzed with shock and grief. So you see how dire the situation was. But Lawrence, that hateful little fat man, must have felt guilty about how terribly they'd treated me, and loosened the lid of the glass jar while the Shadow Man wasn't looking. I wasted no time. A few hops, and I was free! I snuck out of the house, and made my way to the estate of the lovely Miss Charlotte LaBouff. That was when I saw your enchanting daughter standing on the balcony, and my heart was drawn to her," he murmured dreamily, while raising Tiana's hand to his lips and placing a gentle kiss upon it, lingering long enough to make Tiana uncomfortably warm, suddenly very aware of the thumping of her pulse.

"Well, your Highness, I'm glad to know Tiana caught your fancy so quick, but neither'a y'all has explained just why you've been gone for three whole days!"

To Tiana's surprise, Naveen had the grace to look slightly guilty. "Ah, well, madame, you see, I…she was wearing a crown and a beautiful dress, so I mistook her for a princess, and I remembered the story of de fragee prutto, the frog prince, and I…I got her to kiss me. But since she wasn't a princess, the magic turned her into a frog, too."

Eudora's expression wrinkled into an outraged frown.

"You mean you used my daughter to get yourself out of the mess you made for yourself?" Naveen blanched, and Tiana jumped in before her mother got close enough to box his ears, or worse.

"It wasn't all his fault, Mama. He made me a deal—said if I kissed him, he'd give me the rest of the money I needed to buy the sugar mill. And I took him up on it."

Tiana winced as her mother's righteous indignation fell on her shoulders. "Tiana, I thought you were more sensible than that! Goin' around kissin' enchanted creatures without askin' any questions, just for some money? You two better thank the good Lord for rescuin' y'all from your own foolishness."

Naveen perked up. "Actually, it was Mama Odie who rescued us!"

"Mama who?!"

Finally, after the whole story emerged, Eudora had taken pity on them, feeding them tea and cookies before sending them to bed. She had insisted that Naveen take the master bedroom, but he had politely declined, taking the sofa in the parlor instead. Secretly, Tiana was touched at this. She had worried that after the transformation, Naveen might be tempted to go back to his high-living princely ways, and she was almost ashamed to take him back to her little old shotgun house on the colored side of town. But he made himself right at home in the spare surroundings, even complimenting her mother on the beauty of the quilts she provided him with, which had only served to further endear him to Eudora.

In fact, if she was honest with herself, Tiana knew that her restlessness now was at least partly caused by Naveen. She'd never been in love before. Never thought she'd be in love. Romance took time, and time was something a future restaurant owner couldn't spare. And she certainly didn't ever think that conviction would be blown out of the water within three days' time, by Naveen, of all people. Had she only imagined how annoying he was at first? Her mind harkened back to his lazy fiddle playing while she worked like a dog—or a frog, which was worse—steering the little raft she'd created, before they'd found Louis. No, she definitely hadn't imagined it—she had hated him. How, then, had he managed to turn himself completely inside out, from a careless, libertine party boy to a shy but smitten fellow who looked at her like she was made out of the moon and stars combined? And more importantly, how had she gotten swept up in him so? Even as a frog, just feeling his presence close to her had made her ache with a queer, sweet longing. She'd up and married him, for Pete's sake! And that kiss, their first real kiss, still made her tremble at the thought of it.

For once, she was putting her hope and faith and trust in something that wasn't herself, and it terrified her even as it thrilled her. Terrified her, because what if all those feelings were just an illusion? What if, once the after-effects of the spell fully wore off, Naveen forgot about her and the time they'd shared, leaving her alone and desolate? She'd never minded the thought of going at her dreams alone, but now it filled her with an emptiness that made her nauseous.

Shaking her head, she abandoned all hope of sleep and pulled on a ratty terry cloth robe and brown mules that had seen better days, and padded as soundlessly as possible to the kitchen. If her mind wouldn't let go of its anxious thoughts on its own, she might as well be productive and get working on perfecting her newest recipe, swamp gumbo. The ragtag, throw-it-all-in-there stew that she'd made in the bayou had turned out much better than she'd ever expected it to, and she'd spent the previous day at the market gathering as many of the ingredients as she could remember, as well as a few substitutes and old standbys. The limited resources of the swamp had made her even more creative than usual, and with a little fine tuning, she was sure that the dish had the potential to be the restaurant's signature. That is, if there was going to be a restaurant. They had gotten back a day later than the Fenner Brothers' deadline, and for all she knew, the sugar mill was already deeded over to whoever had offered the full amount on the day of the masquerade ball. Oh, Lord, any more worries and she would surely succumb to the nervous breakdown for which she was long overdue.

Twenty minutes later, Tiana was busy whisking her roux and adding little notes to her recipe journal.

Cooking directly over open fire adds smoky flavor to base. In addition to flour, butter, sassafrass, powdered pecan truffles in roux gives rich woody taste.

In the kitchen, more than anywhere else, she was in her element, and slowly, she felt the tension begin to work its way out of her neck and shoulders, felt the nausea dissipate from her belly. In those moments, she lost herself completely within her world of flavors, colors, and textures. So completely, in fact, that she didn't notice someone had entered the kitchen until she turned around to gather the vegetables she'd minced and was greeted with the sight of Naveen leaning against the opposite wall of the kitchen, surveying her with something akin to adoration.

"Laws, Naveen, you scared me half to death! Ever heard of hello?" She felt the knot of anxiety building up within her again.

Shaking his head, he laughed, and Tiana was struck by how much it sounded like music. "I thought of it, but I didn't want to throw you out of tune, or make you nervous! You cook like you dance. It's very lovely to watch."

Tiana's heart beat faster, as it always did when he said something like that as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. As if he really, really felt it. Her knotted insides calmed.

"I didn't think I was much of a dancer."

"You are, when you lose yourself in it. It's only when you second-think yourself-"

"Second guess myself," Tiana said with a giggle, stirring the wild onions and mushrooms, crisp bell pepper, and celery that simmered in the pan before her.

"Yes, second guess yourself—and this is exactly why I did not say hello! You would have been thrown off by my dazzling smile." He proceeded to flash the same dazzling smile at her, and her heart tugged. He was so beautiful that it sometimes took her breath away.

"Well, knucklehead, you gonna stand there admirin' yourself, or get over here and help me?"

At this, his suave grin faltered. "Are you sure? I had only four fingers the last time I minced. How would I know what to do with the other one?" He laughed, but Tiana could see the air of self-consciousness that had fallen over him as clearly as he seemed to see hers. A wave of tenderness swept over her as she remembered how vulnerable he had been when he had admitted to her that palace life had left him with no skills worth mentioning. Tiana doubted this very seriously, but seeing his face light up when he mastered something she taught him warmed her all over. She put down her spoon and walked over to him, shyly taking his large, tanned hands within her slender brown ones. He quirked up an eyebrow in surprise.

"There's more to cookin' than mincin', you know. And I'd really like your help." Which was funny, because usually she preferred to cook alone. His soft brown eyes, with their flecks of amber, caught hers, and the warmth within them held her transfixed. He smiled a slow smile that made the corners of his eyes crinkle.

"There is nothing I would rather do, mi bella." And Tiana pretended that she didn't know that bella meant "beautiful," rather than coming undone right before his eyes.

Leading him over to the counter, Tiana hauled a metal pail full of unpeeled shrimp onto the wood surface.

"Ready to get your hands dirty?"

Naveen grimaced as he looked at the shiny gray bodies. "Are you sure those aren't still alive?"

"What? You mean you don't eat your shellfish live in Maldonia?" For a split second, he stared at her in abject horror. Then, seeing the twinkle in her eye, he smirked.

"A cruel joke, for a woman who was nearly someone's dinner only two days ago!"

A snicker, and then full on laughter, making her sides ache. She nudged him with her elbow.

"No distractions, Prince Froggy, we've got a job to do." He sighed dramatically, but watched as she peeled and deveined the shrimp. Her movements flashed quick and sharp in the dimly lit kitchen, but Naveen struggled to work with the same ease. He succeeded in peeling the shrimp, but while slicing through to pull out the long, black string of entrails, he accidentally cut the whole thing in two.

"Faldi faldonza," he hissed under his breath, an expression which Tiana was beginning to suspect was not exactly polite language. She placed her hand over his.

"Not so hard. You gotta be real gentle with shrimp."

He caught her hand before she could pull it away. "Show me."

Tiana frowned. "I am showing you."

"No, I mean—the way you did last time. Guide my hands. It helped me very much." Tiana gulped. Last time they had been frogs, and even then the closeness had made her want to run away and draw him closer at the same time. But she looked at him, saw the pleading in his eyes. How could she turn down that face, with the dark brown curl that flopped forward into it so endearingly?

She knew it. She was going soft.

She took a deep breath, determined not to let show the flutter of emotions and anxieties that welled up within her. Moved half beside, half behind him, her body pressed close and tense against the curve of his back. She eased her arms around his torso, then brought her hands to rest lightly upon his. She felt the muscles of his back and shoulders move as he arched even closer to her, molding their forms together. She shuddered. It was too much, too new, too sensuous, and yet just enough; something about it made her want to cry. How long had it been since she had last embraced someone besides her mother?

Beneath her, Naveen sighed, a drawn out release of breath that was as relaxed as she was on edge. "Much better," he murmured. "Now, show me?"

Wordlessly, she gripped his hands tight beneath hers and guided his fingers through the motions, directing the angle, pressure, and speed of each stroke. His height made it impossible to see over his shoulder, so she nestled her cheek against his arm, stifling a moan of contentment at how wonderful it felt to rest there. And after he had gotten the hang of the motions, she didn't move. She couldn't stand to break this spell, this feeling of absolute bliss at holding and being held and wanted. Instead, she kept her arms encircled round his waist, and her hands continued to peel and cut the shrimp just inches away from his.

They finished much more quickly than it had ever taken her—four hands, it seemed, were better than two. But before she could move to grip the pail, Naveen had whirled around and wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her close.

"You have no idea how long I've been waiting to do that," he whispered breathlessly, smiling a dizzingly wide smile. Tiana bit her lip, so full of feeling she was afraid she might break apart. Her heart beat dangerously quickly, and she wondered if she was too young to have a heart attack.

Naveen's eyebrows knitted together, worry crossing his face for the first time since they'd become human again.

"Tiana. What's wrong?" He sounded confused and slightly hurt, and Tiana inwardly kicked herself for being so—so—

"Scared," she breathed, almost inaudibly.

"Scared? Why are you scared?"

She hadn't meant to say that out loud! And she certainly didn't mean to voice her pathetic, half-baked fears. So she remained silent and merely rested her head against his chest, feeling tremors run through her body. After a moment, she felt him release his hold on her waist, and before she knew it, he was hugging her to him, gently stroking her hair.

"Is this about your restaurant?"

She shook her head. "No," she squeaked. Lord, she had reduced herself to squeaking.

"Then what else do you have to be afraid of? You could conquer anything," he said with fervor, and she shook her head again, frustrated at her own inability to be rational. He wouldn't say things like that if he didn't really love her, would he? That couldn't just be magic and moonlight and shadow. Or could it? Was that why it sounded like something out of a fairy tale, too good to be true?

Finally, she gave in. "I'm afraid everything will go back to the way it was before."

He stilled. "What do you mean?"

"I mean, what if this—I mean, you and me—what if it's all because of the spell? What if we wake up one morning and it's like nothing ever happened? It already seems like a dream."

He quirked an eyebrow. "I can say with all confidence that our time together as frogs was far from a dream. Do you know, I can still feel the webbing between my fingers? It's-"

"That ain't what I mean," Tiana said impatiently, loosening from his embrace. She felt the surprised stilling of his fingers, the reluctant droop of his arms as he let her pull away. He eyed her warily, dejectedly, and then hopelessly, realizing that he couldn't understand her at all. Tiana squinched her eyes shut and hugged herself. Why was she so frightened? Why was she questioning one of the few good things that had ever come into her life?

All of a sudden, her nose was filled with the smell of burning vegetables. Her eyes flew open, and she raced to the stove, a cry in her throat. Smoke was beginning to billow from the saucepan where the vegetables were simmering with the roux. The water she'd added had long since evaporated, and now everything that was left was getting scorched to the bottom of the pan. She yanked the thwarted gumbo off the stove and bolted to the back door, fanning the smoke out as she coughed. Behind her, she heard Naveen coughing as well, and she grabbed his hand and pulled him outside into the clear night air. They took deep, gasping breaths, until the coughing had finally subsided. Tiana looked at the charred remains inside the pan and curled into herself. Then, out of nowhere—or straight out of her heart—a sob.

"Tiana! Are you hurt?" She heard Naveen's alarmed voice, but could barely see him through the tears that had welled up in her eyes, from the sting of the smoke and from—this. She sobbed again, but this time there was no clamp on her lips. This time, the words poured from her like the floodwaters from the bayou.

"That's-the f-first time I-I-burned s-somethin' s-since the year my D-Daddy went off to the war an' never came back," she choked out. Naveen's eyes widened in what looked like horror, and he backed away from her, seeming to shrink several inches.

"Faldi faldonza, Tiana, I am—so—sorry." She had never heard so much pain in his voice. "I promise you, I did not mean to distract you. I did not mean to upset you, either. And upon my life, I did not mean to make you"—an unexpected huskiness in his voice—"cry." He stepped towards her, wavered, then retreated once more. "I—I think I'd better go." Tiana watched uncomprehendingly as he walked, not back into the house, but down the garden path to the front—

"NAVEEN!"

He stopped. Turned around slowly, hesitantly. But she wasn't going to wait for him to come back, watch him hesitate or falter. She wiped determinedly at her moist eyes.

"I wasn't cryin' because I was mad at you. You didn't hurt me. It's just—now is the only time since then that I've been afraid of losin' someone I care about more than the whole world."

He had come closer while she spoke, and now that he was standing directly beneath the moonlight she could see the bewildered expression on his face.

"But, mi amor, who is it that you are afraid of losing?"

"YOU!" she exclaimed. There, she'd gone and done it. She'd opened the door for whatever witchcraft lurked out there to go and take everything away from her, but she had to tell him. Something about Naveen made her want to tell him every thought she'd ever had.

"You were different before the spell. You'd never have fallen in love with a girl like me. I'm the exact opposite of you, of what you've always been lookin' for. That spell—it didn't just change your body, it changed your mind. Made you fall in love with old stick-in-the-mud me. But now that the magic's gone, there ain't nothin' to keep you here with me. I know that. But I just—I really want you—I need you to stay. Even when there ain't any voodoo. Even if I have to make you fall in love with me all over again."

As Tiana talked, the air wasn't any different. No splashes of light. No sudden realization on Naveen's face of how he'd been in a dream this whole time. No, the look on Naveen's face was one of heartbreak and love and longing and—

And then his fingers were tangled in the dense curls of her hair and he was pulling her urgently up towards him and kissing her, and her body electrified with a jolt. This was different. Different than their kiss in the bayou, when they'd been frogs and, just as suddenly, people. Now he was pulling her in like he never wanted to let her go, like he was intent on consuming her and pouring all of himself into her at the same time. Inhaling—he swept her tongue into his hot, slick mouth. Exhaling—his sighs sunk into her bones. The way his hands trembled at her shoulders, waist, hips seemed to say that this intensity was new to him, too. Was it possible that, out of those thousands of women he'd dated, she was his first love, and not just the other way around?

Before she could contemplate this exhilarating idea more deeply, she felt his arm tighten around her waist, and he swooped her up into his arms like she'd seen grooms do at weddings. Only now, looking up at him, did she realize she'd done her fair share of consuming as well—his curls were wildly askew, and the collar of his shirt drooped from her tugging. Her attention was fixed, however, on his comically conflicted expression, which seemed to waver between wanting to comfort her and wanting to keep making love to her. Deciding on comfort, he kissed her once, lightly, on her forehead.

"Tiana, I would never—ever—go back to a life without you in it. You are the most beautiful, wondrous thing that has ever happened to me. And that is not the spell you hear talking! That is the truth."

In spite of her awkward position, she hugged him tight, letting her head nestle into the crook of his arm. He cradled her even closer.

"Do you promise not to worry about this anymore? I would be hurt if you did," he said with a sad puppy-dog look on his face that wasn't fully teasing.

"I promise." A beat, and she felt a truth not often spoken by her rise up. "I love you, Naveen," she whispered.

He inhaled sharply, then laughed a breathy, sweet laugh. "Te adore, my Evangeline."

He didn't have to translate.

Tiana started to respond, but a yawn came out instead. Naveen smirked.

"Getting sleepy, waitress?"

Tiana get not get tired. She did not get tired.

"Just a little worn out is all. And I ain't"—yawn—"just a waitress no more. I'm a princess. You'd better start…showin' some…respect…"

"Alright, prutta, then. Either way, you are going to bed."

Tiana's drowsy eyes flew open. "But the shrimp! We never even cooked 'em! I cain't leave 'em out all night, they'll go bad, and it'll be a waste of money—"

"I'll take care of the shrimp."

She balked. "You'll take care of the shrimp?" That might be even more of a waste than throwing them away!

"I am astounded by your faith in me. Really, it is very moving. You have cookbooks, yes? I can simply read one of those!"

"It ain't that simple," she started to protest, but was cut off by Naveen's stern glare. "Oh, fine! Have it your way. There's a whole bunch'a recipe books stacked up next to my bed. I got a simple one for beginners, but it's at the bottom of the stack—"

"I'll worry about that. I am serious. I do not want you to worry about anything anymore, not while I'm here."

Tiana almost made a quip about how that was impossible, but instead she was struck speechless by the depth of his caring. All my years…no one's ever done anything like this for me before, she remembered herself saying when he'd minced for her. It was becoming harder to remember why she'd ever doubted his feelings.

She wondered and wondered on this as he carried her inside, down the hall, into her room and folded her into her quilts. As his fingers dragged across her lips in a parting gesture. As she pulled him down again when his fingers weren't enough, and finally as his shadow disappeared from the doorway. Finally she could come up with nothing to justify her fear, and just as she came to this realization, the spectre disappeared. For one of the first times in memory, she felt at peace. Now she could only think of tonight, which had been sadness and love and magic and moonlight—

And this was a spell she never wanted to break.