On the plane trip home, Jenny managed to fall asleep almost as soon as the plane took off. Matilda was jealous. She tried to distract herself with the on-board movie 101 Dalmatians, in honor of their eventual touchdown in London. It was as if the ghost of Walt Disney was reluctant to let them out of his grasp. But soon she fell into a mood that could only be described as brooding. She looked over and saw that Jenny looked unfairly comfortable with her feet stretched out into the foot space of the empty seat between them and her head propped up with a pillow against the window.

Jenny. Matilda stared at Jenny. She had been getting the most infuriatingly mixed signals from the woman. At times, she was overattentive, packing her bags, concerned that she was warm enough, and clucking over her in general like a mother hen. She'd never acted like this before, not even when she had just adopted her at the age of 7. She'd given her plenty of space, making it abundantly clear that Matilda was an astonishingly capable young girl. Now she was treating Matilda as she had only when she was very sick with the flu. And perhaps that made sense, in a strange sort of way, as if Jenny had begun to unconsciously act as if she was sick with the fever. Fitting even, since the older woman often made her feel feverish.

And then, there were also times when Jenny acted almost distant to her; cold even. Last night, Jenny had basically ignored her all evening. She had finally had to suggest that they order room service or Jenny would have forgotten about it entirely. When Matilda had suggested a game of cards, Jenny had brushed her off. Finally, with nothing else to do, Matilda had purposefully brought up some good thoughts, as easy as resting her eyes lightly on Jenny's hair as she read, and practiced floating various objects across the room. Jenny had finally looked up when Matilda, irritated at her lack of response had tickled her chin with a feather.

"Would you quit it?" Jenny had snapped. "Go for a walk or something, you're driving me to distraction." Abashed, and realizing that Jenny perhaps didn't want to be reminded of her attraction, Matilda had took her advice and given her the peace she asked for. When she came back, a half hour later, the room was dark and Jenny was in bed. She hadn't responded to Matilda's soft spoken "Goodnight." Matilda fell asleep feeling vaguely unhappy.

The next day had continued in that vein until the anomaly of Splash Mountain. Matilda could find no satisfactory explanation for Jenny's behavior on Splash Mountain. If she was as uncomfortable with knowing about Matilda's attraction towards her as she had shown every sign of being, she shouldn't have pressed Matilda into an experience where her attraction would be so obvious. It made no sense, and the only explanation that fit was nearly impossible, and 87contradicted by everything that had previously happened that day.

Matilda was smart in all things but the ways of the heart, so she never considered the obvious: Jenny, having faced the truth of her uncomfortable attraction to her adoptive daughter, was putting walls up between them and trying to channel her caring into a more motherly aspect.

They left the LAX at 6pm, endured an 12 hour flight across all of America and the Atlantic and arrived at Heathrow at 2pm. If the math should confuse you, remember that California is 8 time zones away from Greenwich. After that, it was a 50 minute car ride home to a little hamlet south of the little town of Reading.

They arrived home and basically crashed, sleeping much of the day away and waking early in the morning.

At around 8am, Matilda called Shauna, and they agreed to meet out on the moor where they had taken that first eventful walk. As soon as she was within distance, Shauna punched Matilda hard on the shoulder.

"Ow!" Matilda whined.

"That's for not calling me once, even after you knew I was home."

Then Shauna pulled her in for a kiss. The kiss was leisurely, a comfortable moment for their mouths to reacquaint themselves. The kiss ended slowly, and when it was finally done Shauna took a step back and looked thoughtfully at Matilda.

"You're not levitating anything," she commented.

"No," said Matilda.

"You didn't cure your control problem, did you?" Shauna asked, doubtfully.

"No, I definitely did not," Matilda said, wringing her hands together nervously.

"Your breaking up with me, then?" Shauna finally asked.

Matilda nodded, then looked guiltily down at the ground.

"Oh good!" Shauna said in a relieved voice, pulling a confused Matilda in for a hug. "If you were not, I would have had to."

"You were going to break up with me?" Matilda asked, relieved as well and yet perversely slightly hurt at the same time.

"I'm sorry," Shauna said, meaning it. "Is it selfish that I want someone who I can kiss and touch?"

"No," Matilda said, meaning it as well, but feeling sad all the same.

"Friends still, I hope?"

Shauna put her hand out expectantly. Matilda took it and pulled her in for another hug.

"Of course, friends."

They walked home to Matilda's house and barricaded themselves in Matilda's room to chat about their weeks. Shauna sensed that a lot was being left out of the story, but didn't press. She had had an eventful week as well, one that she wasn't quite ready to share. Regardless, Miss Honey was hardly to be found. She was outside weeding the garden and harvesting some of the summer vegetables.

"Me and Shauna broke up." Matilda said one night, breaking the silence at the dinner table.

"Oh, I'm so sorry dear," said Jenny, looking concerned.

"No, it's fine. We are better friends anyway."

"Anything in particular bring this on?"

"Actually yes..." Matilda said, mentally lifting the salt to her side of the table. She'd been experimenting with how much Miss Honey would let her get away with. For the most part, Jenny seemed to be willing to ignore small moments of Telekinesis. But eventually, if Matilda lifted something very large, or was too blatant about the looks she darted at Jenny, Jenny would blush and then Matilda had to watch out or she'd get snapped at or worse. Once, Jenny had simply glared at her then left the table.

Matilda knew she was bothering the woman, but she couldn't seem to be able to stop. She had had enough with hiding her attraction. She wanted Jenny to deal with her as an adult again. If she didn't want Matilda, she would have to tell that to her, not hide behind this bizarre somewhat motherly/somewhat icy attitude she had recently taken on. Matilda did not like being treated as a child, and the more she was treated as one, the more childish her actions became. The more irritating Matilda was, the more Jenny retreated into iciness and the less motherly she acted, which suited Matilda just fine.

"I realized I'd rather be with someone I was passionate about than someone I just rather liked."

Jenny's response was a noncommittal "Hmmm."

The next day, Jenny picked up the phone and dialed a number she had found in the school directory.

"Hello, Mr. Spalding. Jim, I mean. Yes, this is Jenny. Yes, I'm fine, thank you. I was wondering… this summer is starting to drag on and I have a free schedule. Would you like to meet at Dodson's for a sandwich and a cup of coffee? Oh good. See you in an hour."

Putting the phone down, Jenny reflected that it was both harder and easier than she had expected to ask someone out on a date.