"Good morning Munchkin. Time for you to get up, grow up, and start using the toilet again," Kimberley cheerfully announced, as she pulled back the blankets; causing me to shiver.

I cautiously cracked open one eye and was blinded by the bedside table lamp. Snapping my eye shut, I mumbled, "What time is it?" I didn’t notice I’d fallen out of character until after I’d uttered those four simple words.

"It's just after five. Come on, rise and shine. Is your diaper dry?" she asked, as she pulled my feet to the edge of the bed, dropping them over the side, leaving me on my back.

Working back into character, "What time at home?" I wondered aloud.

"That would be just after three-o-clock."

"Three clocks? Me still seepie," I complained, pulling my knees up, trying to roll over away from the light.

"Okay, it's your choice. Lose some sleep or lose your dignity to the nanny."

I let out a deep sigh, then growled a bit before saying, "You not play fair."

Kimberley professed her innocence, "What's not fair, making it your choice?"

"Remind me of nanny. That not fair." After another deep sigh, I dropped my feet back down and held out my hands. "Up please?"

"Sure thing," she chuckled. Taking my hands, she pulled me off the bed and held me close for a moment, as I stood on wobbly feet and legs.

Quietly, we made our way to the bathroom. I held up my nightgown, while Kimberley undid the bulky nighttime diaper.

"It’s still dry, good girl. We'll use this one again tonight. Quickly now, sit on the toilet," she commanded.

"Burrr ... is cold," I complained, as I sat down dropping my nightgown over my knees.

"That's life and toilet seats, you have to learn to take them as they come; sometimes they’re warm and sometimes they’re cold."

"Wonderful foss-a-fee, Mr. Spock," I countered with a grin.

"Thank you, I'll take that as a complement, but I don't think Sally would be quoting Star Trek. Now, I want you to concentrate on relaxing the muscles in your bladder. Try and release your urine. It may take a while and usually won't happen as long as someone else is in the room. So, here's your pull up. When you get something out you can go back to bed."

"Thought me get panties."

"In time you will get to wear panties. You have to learn to walk before you can run. Likewise, you have to learn to not wet, before you can graduate to panties. Besides, there aren't any in Sally's luggage. We'll get some for you as soon as we get out of this hotel."

"Okay. Me understand. Dry pull up better than wet pull up."

"That's my girl. I'll see you in a bit," she said, as she turned on the sink faucet a little before closing the bathroom door. The light tinkling sound of the water had two effects; the first I won’t mention, the second was it put me to sleep.

When I went back into the bedroom, Kimberley was lying on my bed. It was at that moment I noticed Kimberley's bed hadn't been slept in. I smiled as I realized what must have happened.

’Kimberley must have slept in my bed. I must have been more upset than I realized. It’s not like me to not to notice things. I know she doesn't love me like Mary Beth, but it’s nice to know she cares enough to do that.'

Kimberley smiled when she noticed me, "Hi there. Successful?" I nodded in reply, although a bit embarrassed.

"I know this is embarrassing for someone your age, but it can't be helped.

I could hear genuine concern in her voice, which took away some of the sting of embarrassment.

“You took so long; I was starting to think you fell asleep."

Sheepishly, I looked at the floor as I replied, "Me thinks I did."

"That’s not surprising, you didn’t sleep well last night. Now, crawl back into bed and you can catch some more zzz's," she said, as she got up and held up the blankets.

I wasn't about to question her offer. Quick as I could, I scampered across the small room and crawled back into bed, slipping under the blankets.

"So, as a growing up Sally, using the bathroom and all, do you still need to be tucked in so tightly?" Kimberley asked, as she was played with the clock radio.

"Um, not think so. Tilda never fall off bed."

"That's what I thought," she agreed, setting down the radio. "Um, I have another question and I'm not quite sure how to ask. You see, I could use some more sleep and it’s been a long time since ... well, since I've slept alone. Would it bother you if I slept in your bed?"

'That was something I didn't expect to hear. I thought that Mary Beth and I sleeping together was something that would be frowned upon. Here she is, openly admitting to sleeping with Angel and not just now and then, but that they've been sleeping together for a long time. I guess after tucking me in each night … how could I have missed noticing that. I wonder if all of the upper years -'

Kimberley interrupted my thoughts, again, "Well?"

I smiled and nodded my approval.

"Thanks," she said as she pushed my long nightgown over next to my legs. "These beds are really too big for one person; don't you agree?"

"Uh ha, like bed at school," I agreed, with just a hint of sadness.

"I have a little confession to make. Earlier, when you were crying and I was, well, laying with you to help you sleep. After you fell asleep I ... I slept on your bed." The way she was stumbling she must have thought I'd be upset. I simply smiled and nodded.

"Yes? What do you mean yes?"

"I know you sleep with me."

"You know? How do you know?"

"Your bed still made. You not sleep there," I explained.

"Well, aren't you the little detective?"

I nodded, "That me, Tilda Holmes."

"Matilda Holmes, indeed. All right, enough talk, it’s time for sleep."

I nodded and smiled. Rolling over, I snuggled backwards towards Kimberley. She put a protective arm around me.

"Belle, know what?"

"What?"

"Me sleep like this be for, only at horse pistol. Mary Beth crying ’n me crawl in her bed. Make her feel better," I sadly related, as I remembered back to when we shared a bed at Primary Children’s.

‘I’m not sad because of what we've been through, what we’ve shared, or that we found comfort in each other’s arms. No, that doesn’t bother me, what makes me sad is that Mary Beth doesn’t feel that way about me, any more.’

With Kimberley stroking my hair, I quickly drifted off to sleep, secure in the knowledge that I was safe; at least for the moment.

I was drifting in and out of dreamland when the alarm went off. Kimberley rolled over to shut it off. "It's almost eight-o-clock. Do you think the others are up yet?"

"We on vacation. Me think Mamma 'n Pappa sleep longer," I speculated.

"Maybe. Now, before you have an accident, go to the bathroom and do the same as before. When you’re done we'll see if they're ready to order breakfast."

I paused a moment to look out the bedroom window. Nothing there seemed out of the ordinary, a normal window, another hotel, a parking terrace, almost everything was covered in snow. Making my way to the bathroom, I turned on the water in the sink and spent half the day sitting on the toilet. All right, it was less than half an hour before I gave up and went into the suite’s common room, shaking my head at Kimberley. She knew what that meant, but she had to explain it to Suzette; who was surprised.

"I thought you were just, well, pretending for the day, I guess," Suzette tried to verbalize her confusion.

"Me live as Sally, long, long time," I started to explain, as I crawled onto Suzette's lap. "Have to make see-curity think me Sally."

"Well, at least we thought we would have to fool security," Kimberley explained. "We didn't expect to be walking into a situation where our cover was already blown. Didn't you know that the security team used listening devices?"

Jean-Paul joined us as Kimberley was asking the question. "We thought they might," he answered. "That's why the folks in France gave me a scanning device. I went through these rooms, from top to bottom, when we arrived. I guess the devices were planted while we were out. Looking back, I should have scanned every time we came back into the suite."

"They do say that hindsight is the only perfect science. Oh well, there's no sense in sitting around thinking about what we should have done. The question, we need an answer to, is what do we do now?" Kimberley asked.

"Breakfast," I replied.

"Are you hungry?" Suzette asked, stroking my hair.

"Me answer Belle question, what we do now? Need breakfast," I clarified, slipping down and spinning around. "Also ask see-curity for color books, crayons, ’n color pencil. Want to make pretty pictures."

"You want to color some pictures?" Kimberley wondered aloud.

"Uh ha. You ’n me color lots of pretty pictures. Some pictures for Mamma, some Pappa, and some for ... Daddy Black."

"Matilda! What did you say?" Kimberley demanded, catching me by the shoulders, stopping me in midspin.

Looking into Kimberley's eyes I sheepishly asked, "Okay be Tilda now?"

"If you've figured out a way to get us home, you can be anyone you want to be."

I dropped my head forward until my chin rested on my chest. I rotated at the neck all the way right, then left, then back around as I looked up into Kimberley's eyes and smiled. Taking a deep breath I continued, "I can't do anything about getting us home; that will be up to Mr. Black and his team. However, I do have an idea as to how to get word to them. They need to know that Frances intends to put us on a plane tomorrow afternoon, bound for France."

Kimberley smiled before she hugged me and kissed my forehead. Suzette looked as though she were in shock. Jean-Paul sat on the ottoman he had been standing in front of. He shook his head for a moment before saying, "Who are you and what have you done with my daughter?"

Kimberley smiled, as she turned me to face Jean-Paul. "Come now, you didn't think we would put someone in harms way who wouldn't be able to cope with unexpected changes or possible hazards, do you?" I blatantly asked.

"No, no, of course not. I was just a little surprised by the very sudden change in personality. That was the first thing that I thought of," Jean-Paul confessed.

Standing with me in front of her and with her hands on my shoulders, she proudly proclaimed, "I'd like to introduce you to Matilda, the brightest Munchkin of her age."

"How can you change personalities so easily?" Suzette asked.

"It wasn't easy at first," Kimberley replied. "It took her over two weeks to learn how to act and talk like Sally, although, she does make a few mistakes, now and then. But I'm sure nobody on the security team would have known the difference. I'm just glad it didn't take her two weeks to change back."

"If we don't find a way out of this, you better get used to me being Sally, we may be in France for a long, long time," I reminded her, looking up over my shoulder at Kimberley.

"Of course we'll find a way out. So, what's your plan?"

"First, I need to make another visit to the bathroom. Second, we should order breakfast, along with requesting several coloring books, some crayons, and colored pencils. The rest of my idea is dependent upon a few assumptions, the crossing of fingers, and more luck than it takes to jumpstart a matter-antimatter reactor, cold."

Kimberley was giggling, as she shook her head. Suzette and Jean-Paul appeared to be in shock, as I disappeared behind the bathroom door. I emerged a little later, smiling, to find that the others were looking over the restaurant menus. Unfortunately, only two of the restaurants offered breakfast, so we couldn't each order from a different menu. Once we'd given the morning security watch our breakfast order, along with the request for coloring books and crayons, we took the time to discuss what I'd been thinking.

"So how many assumptions have to be in our favor to get us out of here?" Kimberley asked, started the discussion.

"Really only two," I replied. "First, from what I saw yesterday, Frances seems to be a bit arrogant. He's confident that he has us securely confined and will probably relax. Is that how he seemed to you?"

"He's usually pretty sure of himself," Jean-Paul agreed. "He was former French Army Intelligence. He still has access to some of their equipment and resources; at least that's what I've been told."

Kimberley and I looked at each other after hearing about Frances' past. I nodded towards the TV and Kimberley picked up the remote; turning it on, somewhat loudly.

"What's that for?" Suzette asked, barely loud enough to be heard, while covering her ears.

Kimberley motioned for everyone to gather close together, before answering Suzette's question. "Frances must know we found and destroyed the bugs he planted. If he still has access, he may have something that he can use to listen through the walls or door. We may have already giving ourselves away, but we'll have to take that chance. As for myself, I've only come up with one idea. If we plunged the toilet and flooded the bathroom, they'd have to let maintenance in to fix it. We might be able to slip them a note, for Mr. Black."

"I had an idea that was similar, although not quiet as messy," Jean-Paul admitted. "I thought we could short out the television cable. That should knock out all the TV's on this floor, if not the whole wing. When they send technicians around to find and fix the problem; same thing, slip them a note."

"All right, Munchkin, from what we've heard so far, your idea is a bit more involved. You want to tell us the rest of it?" Kimberley asked.

Surprised, Suzette asked Kimberley, "Her nickname is Munchkin?"

"Yeah, silly isn't it," I replied.

"I wouldn't say it’s silly that you and our daughter have the same nickname, more like weird, really, really weird." Jean-Paul added.

"Almost to the point of being scary," Suzette muttered.

After a few moments of shaking heads and no more comments about my name, I continued "Do you think Frances will have people watching the windows?"

"I wouldn't think so; there aren't any ledges, balconies, or fire escapes, so there's no way of climbing down from here. I don't think he'd waste the personal to watch the windows. His resources in that area are somewhat limited," Jean-Paul informed us.

"Excellent. Kimberley, do you think Mr. Black knows what suite we're in?"

"Of course he does. He wouldn't have let us make the swap if he didn't know where we'd be."

"When your phone went dead, after being flushed, would he assume something’s wrong?" I asked.

"He'll be concerned, but probably write it off as a malfunction. That is, until we miss our rendezvous with Angel and Mary Beth. Then he'll know there's a problem."

"Do you think he'll have someone watching the windows, when we don't show up?"

"Maybe, but how would he know we're here and not already out of the hotel."

"Because of the locator he put on me."

"What locator?" Kimberley and Jean-Paul asked together.

I reached inside my nightgown and pulled out the necklace that Mr. Black had given me. "I realized this is a locator beacon, when I discovered he lied to us. Yesterday, when we changed costumes, Sally wasn't wearing a necklace of any kind."

"So you mean?"

"This is his backup plan," I proclaimed, as I tucked the necklace back into my nightgown. "He knows exactly where we are. But, knowing where we are isn't as important as knowing when and where we are going to be. The only chance they'll have of getting us away from Frances will be someplace public."

"The airport?" Kimberley speculated.

"The airport!" I confirmed.

"So what's with the coloring books and crayons?" Suzette wanted to know.

"Well, it's just an idea I had," I started.

"She's planning to put a message on one and somehow get it to their Mr. Black," Jean-Paul guessed.

"Close, very close, but you need to expand your vision," I confirmed. "What I was thinking was to put a piece of the message on lots of pictures, along with a key for putting the pieces of the puzzle together. In one of the top corners of each page we'll put one of the seven letters to spell 'Matilda.' Then, in one of the bottom corners we put three or four letters of the airline, flight, and date; scrambled, of course. Then all we have to do is make paper airplanes out of the colored pictures and fly them out the window."

"So that's why you were asking about opening the window last night." Kimberley got up and went to the window. She returned a few moments later, looking like a little girl that had lost her balloon. "Better think of another plan, those windows won't open."

"What?" I exclaimed.

"Let me have a look," Jean-Paul suggested.

The three of us sat together quietly, although not in peace, thanks to the din from the TV, while Jean-Paul looked at the windows in the common room as well as both bedrooms. When Jean-Paul rejoined us, his expression didn't fill me with confidence.

"It appears that this wing of the hotel is much older than the rest," he explained. "Normally, when an older hotel is upgraded any old sliding windows would have been removed and new windows would be installed. However, fortunately for us, the old windows are still here, but they've been glued shut. More precisely, they were sealed with silicon caulking."

"Why is that fortunate?" Suzette asked.

"That’s good for us because, in about thirty minutes our breakfast orders should be arriving, along with some utensils. If I'm not mistaken, there should be three butter knives and one steak knife. While the three of you are coloring pictures and folding airplanes, I'll work on getting one or two of the windows open," he proclaimed.

"So, even though my idea is a little complicated, is it worth trying?" I asked.

"I hate to admit it, but it’s the best idea I've heard this morning," Jean-Paul praised. "I also think it has the best chance for success. Not to mention it will draw the least amount of attention. The others were dependent upon slipping a note to someone we don't know, probably with Frances or one of his people watching, and hoping it would get to your Mr. Black."

So we had a plan of action, agreed upon by all. We didn't have to wait long for our supplies to arrive. Surprisingly the coloring books and crayons were delivered before our breakfast orders.

Kimberley and I had just started coloring when Frances burst into the room. Jumping back into Sally's character, I jumped up and rushed over to Suzette, crawling onto her lap for protection.

"Is there a problem?" Jean-Paul asked politely, Frances didn't look like he was in a mood to be questioned.

"What's been going on in here?" Frances demanded, after turning off the TV.

"I don't know what you're talking about," Jean-Paul replied. "We're just coloring some pictures, would you care to join us?"

'If looks could kill I think Jean-Paul would be smoldering.'

Frances turned away from us, ignoring anything else anyone said, as he went into Jean-Paul and Suzette’s room. Coming back into the common room, he looked around for a moment before he went into Kimberley’s and my room and then into the bathroom. Coming out of the bathroom, he seemed to be holding something in the palm of his hand.

Frances looked up from his hand to see us looking at him. “This explains a few things. I don’t know how you found them, but it doesn’t matter anymore. Just do as you're told and we won't have to do anything nasty!"