The haze hung around the fairy lights like full bustle skirts, protecting innocent eyes from the fairies’ naked forms with tulle and muslin made of humid air. The tiny figures flittered from flower to flower, smelling the closed buds to check for pollen and magic. The magic came with the pollen, and had to be gathered before the bees arrived; they soiled it and made it good for little more than simple love potions. They gathered the fresh magic to their naked bosoms to make complex love potions. The world was ever in need of more unrequited love and triangles.