Miranda had been back full time for just over a week. Ignan was still at home recovering and steadily returning to his usual self. Lawrence Musgrave was locked up and life was returning to normal. Staff were tiptpoing around her less each day and finally Miranda was once more feeling like the boss. She was starting to feel like herself.

Except one thing.
She needed to do one thing very out of character.
She needed to thank someone.

It was at 9AM that the Head Healer left the stairwell and stepped onto the fourth floor for Spell Damage. Few staff acknowledged her, instead avoiding eye contact as she made her way past the welcome witch desk, the mediwitch station and finally arrived at the door for the Healer in Charge’s office. She carried a large bottle wrapped in brown paper and a pile of parchment held together by some string. On the top page, near the bottom, was the witch’s simple signature and the wax seal of St Mungo’s. Floating behind her was a brown paper bag and two cups of freshly brewed coffee.

A sharp knock on the door announced her presence but she didn’t wait for an answer, instead pushing the door open and stepping inside.
“Healer Hughes. I hope you like apple strudel.”

Flynn was just finishing up some of his paperwork. His day had started incredibly early, and he had a bit of time to do more administrative work before checking on his patients and staff again. He glanced up at the sound of knocking on the door, and before he could tell her to come in, Miranda was in his office.

With food. And coffee.

This was not like her at all, and Flynn was not sure how to respond.

"I don't not like apple strudel." He replied, offering Mira a smile. "What's the occasion? Is it poisoned?" His tone was light-hearted, humorous. "Not that-- I, uh. That was a joke." A terrible, terrible joke.

A wave of her hand sent the coffees to land gracefully on his desk and Miranda closed the office door behind her. The attempt at a joke wasn’t exactly received well from the witch that had been poisoned while her staff had unknowingly killed their patients. Joking about poisonings with the Head Healer was an extremely sore topic. Flynn Hughes was lucky he had a free pass to an extent after saving Ignan.

“One would expect jokes to be funny.” The witch countered, the smile fading to be replaced by her usual cold expression.

Despite her reaction, Miranda hadn’t come to reprimand her staff member. On the contrary, she wanted to reward him for his hard work and dogged determination under her scrutiny. A handful of healers would have caved under the pressure of having their boss’s husband’s life in their hands.

“Drink.” The witch indicated the coffee before lowering herself into the seat and offering a small brown bag of strudel to him. “It’s some of the best, the strudel, I’m informed by the house elf. She even went to Vienna for it this morning.” The document was also placed on the desk, as of yet unmentioned.

“I must admit, Hughes,” Miranda started after a sip of coffee. She didn’t do small talk very well or for very long. “When I heard you’d replaced me as the charge of this floor, I’d been somewhat concerned. You don’t exactly emit an aura of being capable.”

"My jokes are hilarious." Flynn raised an eyebrow, pressing forward with ill-advised confidence, "It's not my fault you don't appreciate my humor." he teased.  Wait. No. He didn't mean to imply that his boss had no sense of humor! For the briefest of moments, he panicked. Then he decided there was no use in panicking, he'd already said it so he might as well own it. Besides.... It was also a joke.

If she really had a sense of humor, then she'd get it. Right?

He took a sip of coffee, more certain than he should've been that it wasn't poisoned.

"Wait. What? What do you mean, I don't seem capable?" He was more confused than offended, "I wouldn't have gotten the job if I wasn't." Miranda knew that, of course. Especially after the whole Ignan thing.

It was true, Miranda didn’t appreciate Hughes’ humour. They were two extremely different people. Polar opposites. He was open and friendly while she was cold and detached. But that didn’t make him any less the good healer. He’d justly proven himself to her and gained her true respect, a feat for most.

While the wizard tried to make sense of his boss’ comment, Miranda took a sip of her own coffee. It was a good temperature, one sugar, a very small amount of milk. She liked her coffee strong but not overly bitter.

“My predecessor managed to become Head Healer and judging from the mess left, she was far less than capable.” Mira’s brows rose, fixing Hughes with a stare. A position in society or the workplace didn’t necessarily mean capability. It meant the person had been in the right place at the right time or known the right people.

“You’re young and you smile too much for someone that takes this job so seriously. But you proved me wrong. People don’t tend to do that.”