"So, how's work?" her father asked, as he guided them into traffic and towards the route that would take them home. "Is there anything you can share that isn't classified?"

Claire laughed. Her parents were aware she worked for the military; they also knew it was with computers. But that was all. They had no idea that she actually worked with U.N.I.T., researching and protecting the Earth from alien invasions. "My co-worker Trixie was showing a keen interest in a new bloke who just started at the base."

"I don't mean gossip." Turning onto the A38, they made their slow way down to the A370, her father's preferred route home. It was much slower, but he liked it because there were ample opportunities to stop for petrol or snacks on the way. Her father had always chosen to do things at a slower pace. His job doing clock repairs required it. He often said time required time to do the work well. "Are you doing anything interesting?"

"No." She looked out the window and watched houses and shops go by. "Just the same old computer stuff…writing code, reading code, printing out code, things like that. I dream in code sometimes. What's going on with you and mum? Anything new?"

"Well, your mother has a new hobby," he shared. "She'll show you once you get settled. I'm sure she'll have lunch on the table as soon as we get home."

"And you?"

"I found an interesting time piece at the charity shop last week. Should do for a good challenge to my skills," he said. With that, he started explaining to her how old the clock he'd found was, how much repair it needed, and just what kind of tools he'd need. Claire settled back in her seat to listen, letting him ramble. It just felt good to hear his voice, even if she didn't understand half of what he was talking about.

Almost an hour later, they were driving down Kewside, and Claire could see her house. Sure enough, her mum was on the stoop, looking for them. Once they had parked, Eleanor Oswald came running up to the car and enveloped her daughter in a bear hug. Her dad brought the suitcase, and they all trooped inside, talking at once.

The rest of that day was taken up with hearing her mum's excitement over learning to knit, seeing the odd old clock her dad had purchased to repair, and petting the family cat, Mr. Tibbles. After lunch Claire had unpacked her case in her old bedroom. Her mother came to stand in the doorway and watch her.

"It's good to have you back, love," her mum smiled. "I do miss you."

"You and dad should have had another two or three to keep you company," Claire said, hanging a dress up.

"You were so perfect we decided to quit while we were ahead." Coming over to Claire, she embraced her again. "Why don't you call a bit more often, dearie? I worry so sometimes."

"What have you got to worry about? I'm on a military base. That's about as safe as you can get," Clare responded, laughing.

"Oh, I worry whether you're eating right, whether they're treating you well at work, whether you've found a new boy to catch your eye. The normal motherly things."

Unfortunately, her mother had touched on something that immediately brought on a telltale blush to Claire's cheeks, just what she'd hoped she could avoid this weekend. And sure enough, her very observant mother spotted the rosy hue on her daughter's face. Eleanor gasped.

"There is a boy, isn't there?" she challenged, giving her daughter a pointed look. Claire backed out of her mother's arms, and busied herself putting a jumper in a drawer. No use lying, she thought; she'll spend the entire weekend trying to wriggle it out of me. Best to come clean—without giving away too many details. I can't tell her the entire truth—she wouldn't understand. But first, a little deflection; see if I can't get her off the subject.

"What makes you think that?" Claire stated, pulling a blouse out of her suitcase. She held it up for her mother to see. "How about this, eh? Got it last week at a jumble sale in the village. Should do with a lot of the things I already have. It looks fantastic with that suede skirt I bought the last time I was home."

"Claire," her mother persisted. "You blushed when I asked if you've met a new boy. Come on, now, tell mummy everything."

Sitting down with a plop on her bed, Claire crumpled the blouse up in her hands. "Mum…! I only just met him this past week. I hardly know him, and he hardly knows me."

Eleanor sat down next to her daughter, and took her hand in her own. So, there is a boy. What does he look like? What does he do? How did you meet?"

Claire stared up at the ceiling, sighing. How to explain the unexplainable? The only thing to do was to give the bare bones of it, and hope her mum didn't press for more details. "One of my friends told me about him, so I went to see what he looked like for myself. He works in the chem lab. We took a tea break together and chatted, then I invited him out for dinner. We chatted some more after dinner. He's a bit of a loner, and could use a friend. He's very different from other boys I've known. Much more intelligent. He's tall, slender, and has thick, dark brown hair. He also has kind of a big chin. And he likes to wear bow ties."

"Definitely sounds like someone out of the ordinary from what you used to fancy when you were younger," her mother smiled. "Remember how when you were little you used to say you were going to marry someone who looked exactly like Paul McCartney of the Beatles?"

Her daughter blushed again, but this time from chagrin. "I got over that," she insisted. "Mum, I've only known him a week. Ask me about him again a month from now. By that time, I may have decided he's not for me." Fat chance of that, she thought to herself. I have no idea why, but for some reason, I can't bring myself to forget about him.

She went over to her closet, and hung up her blouse. Hopefully her mum would take the hint, and let the subject go for now.

Eleanor, still sitting on the bed, gave her daughter a fond look. "That's my Claire. You always liked to think about things before you committed to anything. It's the one reason I don't worry about you half as much as I should." Rising, she came over to Claire, and gave her a hug. "I won't bother you any more about him while you're here. Promise." She tapped Claire on the nose with her finger.

Claire sincerely hoped she'd be left alone on the subject over the weekend. Her attraction to Matt was something she couldn't even fathom the reason for, let alone explain it to someone else.