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Gotham was satisfying. As it turns out, Seb was right; Jim needed a holiday. It was a pleasant change of pace, watching the chaos explode around him without having to worry about conducting it himself. But of course, eventually enough is enough. Too much of a good thing will always turn sour.

So, when a Door to Milliways turns up shortly after the death of Harvey Dent, Jim takes it.

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"I don't think that will be a problem," she answers, with a nervous glance back at the building.

It's not like it will require acting of any kind, especially not when Aunt Trunchbull chooses that moment to start roaring again. The sound of her stomping feet is audible all the way out to the parking lot.

The sound abruptly stops.

There is quiet for a brief, brief moment, then an extended loudness.

(She's given up on throwing fireballs and is now just throwing fire. Matilda deflects it as best she can. A thick layer of ice forms on walls, floor, and ceiling. The temperature differential shatters the front panels of both vending machines. Wind shrieks back and forth in the confines of the hallway. Something is burning and Matilda can't see it to make it stop, so she just freezes everything; another gout of fire melts the ice off most of the ceiling, and she ducks under it.

The Trunchbull throws another lightning bolt.

Matilda, too rattled to make the catch, dodges up.

It wouldn't make that much difference, except that the carpet under Miss Trunchbull's boots is soaking in two inches of slush, and the massive electrical discharge has to go somewhere, and Miss Trunchbull is among the places it chooses to go.)

And the sound of something large and heavy hitting the floor (the splash doesn't carry all the way), and then quiet again, this time for good.

He glances back as things quiet down, opening the passenger-side door for Jenny. He'd put her on the driver's side, but unless she can spark the engine back to life herself, there's no point.

"Stay in the car," he instructs softly. "I'll send her out to you."

Jenny presses her face into her hands, takes a deep breath, and then nods.

Matilda drifts slowly back to ground level and takes a look around. A sheet of ice cracks off the warped side panel of a vending machine and falls to the floor, breaking into numerous pieces on impact.

It all turned out a lot... messier than she expected.

The first thing that catches Jim's eye - aside from Matilda herself, of course - is the ex-Trunchbull on the floor.

One less thing he'll have to take care of himself.

"Well done," he says.

Somewhere between rueful and mildly horrified: "But what do we do with her?"

"I'll take care of that," he assures her. "Jenny's waiting for you in the car. You remember how to hotwire it."

It's not a question. She watched him do it, of course she remembers.

She rubs her face with both hands, a gesture strongly reminiscent of the one Jenny used just a short time ago.

"All right," she says, casting one last glance over the surrounding wreckage. "See you in a bit."

Instead of wading through the icy flood, she glides over it, and when she reaches dry carpet she directs a slight frown at her shoes and they obediently become dry.

"It's magic, by the way," she adds as she's walking away. "All of it."

Of course it is.

He doesn't answer. He knows a good exit line when he hears one, and she's certainly earned it.

Briskly, he turns his full attention to the situation at hand. It's been a while since he's had to get rid of a body himself, without a crew to deal with the heavy lifting (so to speak), but he'll manage. Agatha Trunchbull will remain on the books as officially missing, no one will be coming round to ask Jenny any difficult questions, and this particular problem will never bother them again.

Matilda and Jenny take their time getting home. There are hugs first, and hot chocolate at a nearby donut shop, and a modicum of sniffles all round. Jenny calls the school to let them know that she's fine now and would really rather not talk about it, thank you, and yes, she will be coming back on Monday just like normal.

It's probable, however, that they still get there before Jim.

They do.

He makes his way back eventually, though. When he appears in the living room, he's a mess.

It was not a clean process.

More than that, though, he looks tired. He's still running on lingering adrenalin, but that's all he's got. After the extended tour of Gotham and the physically demanding nature of the last few hours, his body is finally prepared to rebel. Once he crashes, he's going to crash hard.

For the moment, though, he looks quite cheerful.

"Evening, ladies."

"Oh my," says Jenny.

"I'm gonna get muffins," says Matilda.

Jim laughs and drops onto the couch without comment.

That was more or less the reception he was expecting.

(He would have looked for a Door to go straight to his room at Milliways, but he doesn't think Matilda would be best pleased if he left without at least checking in first. He'd just as soon not have to deal with that later.)

The muffins (four of them, floating in a neat line) arrive in the living room faster than Matilda does; she had to see them to get them out, but she knows the house well enough to send them exactly where they need to go without bothering to lead the way.

While she's out of the room, Jim closes his eyes.

His muffin is going to have to wait.

When she sees him there, Matilda sighs.

She leaves the muffins on the coffee table, fetches a light blanket from the linen closet, and carefully tucks him in. Jenny watches.

"You're an amazing little girl," she murmurs at last.

"I know," Matilda says quietly. She turns off the lights in the room without touching them. "Most of the time it's fun."

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