"I'm in too good a mood. Wanna try to do some flying?"

Madison made a face.

“I promised I wouldn't fly off the property until this guy gets caught."

“Even if everyone else went with you?"

"Dad's thinking is that we would all be too vulnerable in our animal forms, and we couldn't switch to half—form out of fear of exposure."

"Your father is too smart for his own good." Heda's grin got broader.

"So, have you gotten used to calling him ‘Dad’ then?"

"I practiced saying it for twelve years before I figured that I'd never get to say it for real to anyone. I like the sound of it."

Heda's lips sought out Madison's again. It was a warm, lingering kiss, and it left both girls tingly in all sorts of places. To help cool off, they both took any number of rides down the slide, followed by... well, more sliding. Then they headed over to the kitchen to find some snackage.

Heda's mother was having a Lively discussion with the cook, Mrs. Sanchez, when the two girl's arrived. Something about sauces and temperatures and other things that neither younger woman really had any grasp on.

"Staying out of trouble?" Jessica Adler asked, her eyes not even searching out the object of her question.

“Mom, what possible trouble could I get into sitting at poolside drinking fruity drinks?"

That was when the elder Adler woman's gaze shifted.

“Need I remind you of the incident at the resort on our Disney vacation of 20017"

She looked at Madison.

“There's a reason why it is no longer the ‘happiest place on earth'."

"YOU were the one who got us kicked out Orlando studios," Heda countered, "The name of the restaurant was ‘Margaritaville'! Of COURSE they were going to play that song over and over again And just like that, the conversation was off. The two Adler women could not be in each other's presence for more than ten minutes or so without the Debate, capitalization and all, starting up again.

Apparently, it was all part of some weird ongoing conversation argument that the two had been having since Heda was six years old.

They both enjoyed it far more than they would admit.

"Can I have a popsicle?" Madison asked of the cook.

"This could be a while."

"You need to eat more," Mrs. Sanchez replied gruffly.

"You're too skinny."

Madison knew better than to talk back on this. Mrs. Sanchez believed that all woman should have "more meat on them," unable to grasp that there were reasons you never found a fat changeling.