Sofie woke from her dream with a start, expecting to find herself surrounded by mist, smoke and fire. She was surprised and slightly disappointed to find herself sitting in her booth at the art show, where she had been daydreaming as usual and had apparently fallen asleep. That wouldn't do at all! She was unlikely to sell much art that way. As she shook off the sleepy feeling, she struggled to remember the dream.

It had been one of those dreams where she couldn't tell where the dream ended and reality began; the insubstantials of the dream urged her to give them substance, to bring them into reality - her reality. It was all so strange. Fearing it would fade from memory if she didn't replay it, she sat up and concentrated, willing herself to remember everything she dreamed from the beginning.

It had been about the farm on the other side of the valley from where she lived - the one she had overheard from her nieces' whispers was scheduled for "decontamination," a procedure that was shrouded in mystery; not even her sister, who'd been in the plant business for years knew how it was accomplished.

In the dream, Sofie had felt as if she'd been flying. Soaring over the farm and looking down upon it. Approaching closer and closer in a circling pattern. But to what end? . . . to watch? She couldn't remember why exactly, just that she needed to be there, to see. She remembered the mist in the valley, and the color green - but not a green she had ever seen in a nursery; a deep green with a hint of blue that gleamed like jewels, but twisted with life. Through mist and fog, smoke and . . . fire? Yes, there had been fire, when the smoke billowed by to reveal what was beyond, she had seen fire. And grey. Just for an instant. Grey. Light grey with a dark circle. That was what had startled her awake. She had seen an eye in the smoke and the twisting, insubstantial, impossible shade of green had been a flash of light grey. An eye; light grey with a dark circle around the iris. It could only be his. And he had seen her. But it had only been a dream - hadn't it? And who was he?

Try as she might, she couldn't remember anything more and figuring she'd spent enough time on some silly dream, she turned her thoughts instead to the past week she'd had working at her sister's greenhouse. It had been such a difficult week. The summer had been going so smoothly: the work was steady, and the weather had been tolerable; but last Monday a team of government plant inspectors had shown up to check for diseased plants. This in itself would have been enough of a hassle, but it had been made worse by the negative attitude shown by most of the inspectors, especially the head of the team, a Darcy Fitzwilliam. Fitzsnobbiam, more like, thought Sofie to herself, rolling her eyes. She had never met a more unpleasant man. There was no denying that he was extremely handsome, an annoying truth if ever there had been one, but that was nothing when compared to his other, less appealing qualities. He had been haughty and arrogant, making it clear that he thought her ignorant and unable to handle any potential problems with the inventory at the greenhouse. He had been so condescending when talking to her, explaining the diseases and the symptoms they were looking for slowly and in the simplest terms - as if she couldn't grasp an intelligent sentence. And he acted as if he was the only one able to eradicate the diseases they found in the plants. He was so secretive about his procedures. Maybe because all he did was snip off a couple of leaves and anyone could do that! His secrecy was just a way of maintaining his job security. She had had to put up with him and his team every day for the entire week, and they'd be returning the following week as well. But today was Saturday and she was at the art show she'd been preparing for and looking forward to for months. She wasn't about to ruin it by thinking unpleasant thoughts.

She stood up and looked around her booth, straightening her paintings and making sure her displays of cards were organized and everything had a proper price tag. For the twentieth time that morning. As she glanced around, her eyes rested on one of her favorite paintings. It was of a small waterfall near her home. She wasn't sure why she'd painted the dragon in front of the falls; she didn't usually include "fantasy" elements in her paintings but when she'd been at the falls that day, she'd almost seen him there in the mist and it was as if he just appeared on her canvas. She was tempted not to sell this one at all. Shaking herself from the reverie of that quiet day she'd spent painting at the falls, Sofie sighed to herself and was about to sink back into her chair when she noticed a familiar face among the growing crowd of people at the art show. Her son Felipe and his girlfriend were walking towards her. She smiled.

They stopped in and looked around while she showed them all her paintings and cards.

"Well, the day is young," he replied with optimism. "I'm sure people with taste will show up soon."

Sofie smiled. "Hey, do you all mind sitting here for just a few minutes so I can take a quick break? I need to run to my car for a minute, and I want to get a quick snack."

"Sure, no problem."

They both declined the offer, and Sofie left the booth. When she returned about twenty minutes later with a can of Fresca and a package of Smarties, she noticed there was a third person in her booth. She became excited at the prospect of having a customer and as she walked closer, she could see that the man was holding a rectangular object. It had to be one of her paintings. She'd made a sale! She smiled to herself, just as the customer turned to face her. She stopped in her tracks. It was none other than Fitzsnobbiam!

"Ah, there she is," she heard Felipe saying, just as a look of recognition crossed Fitzsnobbiam's countenance.

"Good morning," she replied. She dare not attempt to address him by name, lest she utter the wrong one!

"I guess there's more to me than meets the eye," she replied, almost sarcastically.

She looked at it to see which one he had selected and almost gasped to herself when she saw it was the one with the dragon. "That's one of my favorites," she said softly.

Then his eyes locked with hers. They were light grey with a dark circle around the iris. The eyes from her dream.

On Monday morning, Sofie slammed the car door and stalked toward the greenhouse. She had gotten almost no sleep the night before and she did not want to work today. The inspectors were sure to be back. Fitzsnobbiam was so thorough that his search went slowly - so slowly that she thought she might scream.

As she entered she saw that her suspicions were correct: Fitzwilliam and his team were already there, picking up plants and examining them closely. Sofie tied on an apron and, ignoring the inspectors, began to water some small plants. After a few minutes she was able to concentrate on just the plants. Their green hue and tender leaves revived her spirits and soon she smiled and hummed as she worked.

She thought of her dreams from the night before. Although she mostly spent the night tossing and turning, there had been flashes of that daydream she'd had at the art show in her night dreams, too - flashes of the same greenish-blue colour, of fire and smoke. How she wished she knew what they meant! Last night she had been certain that the dream was some sort of invitation, but to what, and from whom, she didn't know.

"Sofie," said a voice close to her. He spoke sharply, as if he had said her name several times before without her hearing.

"I need to take these plants out back. The disease has started on the leaves, and I'm afraid if I don't treat them now they may die completely."

"Could you lock the door behind me? I don't want anyone to come out and, er, be exposed," he said mysteriously.

She followed him to the door and locked it from the inside once he had stepped out, but she peeked out of the window to watch what he did.

She wasn't prepared to witness his metamorphosis. Concealed in the shadow cast by a nearby maple tree, he removed his coveralls and immediately she saw his beautifully cut biceps turn into strong front legs with curling talons. A hint of perfect male backside turned into a long, scaly, green tail with ridges along the top. His handsome face became monstrous and elongated. Smoke poured from his nostrils as his human lungs turned into dragon lungs.

Before transforming Fitzwilliam had carefully arranged the plants. Now he breathed fire on each of them skillfully and carefully, only singeing the affected areas. Each plant seemed to straighten up and heal instantly from the treatment. He nursed them back to health so tenderly that she felt a kinship as with a fellow artist. He created beauty with his fire just as she created it with her paintbrush. Now she understood him. Understood his secrecy, the reason for his shyness and insincerity.

Fire was something she had never managed. As a human child Sofie had suffered from asthma, so when she transformed her lungs never managed fire-breathing. But again she wondered why Fitzwilliam had no wings to fly.

The dragon noticed a movement in the window and startled. Fearing discovery and consequent mistreatment, he turned around and ran towards the hill and the safety of the line of trees.

Sofie knew he would change back to his human form out of fear of discovery, so she threw caution to the wind and wrenched the door unlocked and open. She paused only to allow her own body to take on its other form. Once she was completely transformed, she soared into the air. It took her hardly any time to catch up with him. He was out of breath from the run and the expulsion of fire he had breathed upon the plants. She circled around him and landed in his pathway.

He looked at the mountains in the distance. "I thought I was the only one for many, many miles."

"No, you aren't the only one. I too can become a dragon. Has it been your whole life?"

"No. I figured out how to do it when I was nine years old. My father, he . . ." Fitzwilliam trailed off and sighed, puffs of smoke coming out his nostrils.

Sofie glanced to his back. Stumpy scars spoke the ugly truth - someone had forcefully, painfully removed his wings. "He didn't approve?" she asked gently.

He looked surprised. Then he laughed. "Some dragons we are," he chuckled. "No fire and no flight. Between the two of us, we make one complete dragon."

Sofie joined in the laughter. "Yeah, if we could find a way to join our powers, we would make one heck of a dragon."

"No dragon could compare!" he said matching her humorous tone. Then his smile broadened. He looked delighted. "That's it!"

"You and I can join forces! With your flight and my fire-power, we can get the job done in no time! Do you know about the farm across the valley? It's blighted. I need to cleanse it, but it's such a large area that it will take me weeks to do it properly. But if we can team up, I know I could have it decontaminated in no time!"

"We'll find a way. We have to. Why else were we brought together? We must be destined for each other! Together, we'll rid all the flora of the disease and blight that curse our land!"

"Well, if you put it that way . . ." said Sofie with a grin, "I guess I can't say no."

The next day they met at the farm after work. Sofie, in her dragon form, flew Fitzwilliam, in his human form, from spot to spot at the farm so that he could properly decontaminate the diseased plants. As he reached each new spot he carefully climbed down from her back and transformed into his dragon shape to perform his task. She was impressed by the diligence and care he applied to his work. Soon they were surrounded by mist and smoke. There was much foliage to be incinerated and after completing the last patch of the farm, as he rose up from ashes, having retaken his human form, Sofie knew she had fallen in love. This was definitely not a night to forget.

She resumed her human form as well as he walked towards her, their eyes locked in a gaze of understanding that dispelled the darkness from their hearts, soul meeting soul, connecting them forever. He stroked her face and she closed her eyes and breathed in the fiery scent of the air around them.

"You know," he said, "when this farm became blighted the owner didn't want it anymore. I knew I could heal the land, so I bought it. I named it Pemberley, because it borders Pember Lake on the other side. Sofie, I want to live here . . . with you. I love you."

Sofie could not refuse. They moved into the farm and Darcy hung his painting of the dragon in front of the waterfall over the mantle. Sofie sold many of her other paintings over the Internet and, together, they made a success of the farm, growing the best organic vegetables on the island. And as the time of the season changed, they were blessed with children, three brothers, who were also gifted with transformation and who were able to both fly and breathe fire as they played in the swiftly falling snow.