~BHM, Adventure, ~XWG (and eventually BBW, more weight gain, and romance--to come in later parts) - A dragon slayer is cursed with weight gain.
Part 3
Over the next couple of weeks, Charles refined his understanding and control of his curse, and the new ability to project it on others. Working with his family, he determined that the curses definition of someone eating with him was largely subjective. Walking down a street was OK, but venturing onto an outdoor patio was not. In a car he was affected by those in the car. In a hotel it seemed that each room was viewed as one dwelling, and the restaurant as being separate again, so in a room he was affected only by those in that room, and in the lobby hed only be affected by those in the lobby. However in a house, it seemed that he was affected by everyone in the house.
After a hasty renovation, a couple of rooms at the back of the house were turned into a small apartment with its own entrance. In an example of the subjective nature of dragons magic, the door into the rest of the house was equipped with a lock, and so long as it was locked Charles was not affected by eating in the house. When the door was unlocked, he was affected. However, if everyone who was in the house and apartment thought it was locked, even though it was not, Charles remained unaffected.
Charles Aunt Eleanor went into a flurry of research and writing at this news, saying it firmly disproved Dagoberts conjecture of 1723Charles was impressed that he actually managed to convince her that he understood what she meant, and that he cared. He considered that maybe as fat as his face was, it made his features harder to read.
He might have said making him harder to read was the only benefit of being so fat, but really, he found that was not the case. His stomach was a very comfortable place to rest his hands. When he walked somewhere, people moved out of his way. Instead of being expected to be always ready to do something athletic or to use his muscles, now people were impressed, surprised, and pleased to see him do anything remotely physically challenginghe knew he was probably stronger than ever, but people discounted the muscles under the mountain of flab.
Perhaps best of all, he jiggled. Hed tried to ignore this at first, just one more horrible consequence of becoming so fat. However, hed come to admit to himself that actually he liked the feeling of jiggling and shaking. A nice snug pair of jeans holding his lower parts in place, but forcing his gut and love handles to protrude out, set up a situation where his whole midriff seemed to shake and jiggle if he moved the right way, something that he found surprisingly enjoyable. And when he was doing other things his breasts jiggled and quaked, something that at first had made him blush, but which over time hed come to anticipate eagerly.
With this new enjoyment of his body, and better control over the curse, he was able to be around people more. It was a little odd meeting people who had known him for years; he could often see a momentary vagueness in their eyes as the curse affected their memories. Theyd look at him without recognition for a moment, pause ever so briefly, then remember him. Old team mates would greet him with comments like Hey man, how are you? The team is really going to miss you at .. and then the vagueness would be there for a moment, before theyd say the weight room, you always really made sure we worked out hard.
Charles was a little disappointed that only he and his family seemed to remember his starring role in high school sports. In fact, even some family members, who seemed to have the dragon-slayer blood less strongly in their veins, struggled to remember that hed not always been fat.
One unseasonably cold and rainy Saturday in late September, his sister Catherine finally persuaded him to come swimming at the town pool. They were not sure if Charles would be affected by the snack bar or not, but by now he could sense when the curse was active, and could re-direct it almost without thought. It was more a matter of him feeling bad about targeting an innocent party than any practical concern. He was still a little over 300 pounds, despite his improved management of the curse, so he knew hed stand out at the pool, but he supposed hed have to get used to that.
He left his muddy shoes on the rack at the entrance of the change rooms, then, since he was already wearing his massive swim trunks he merely shucked off his sweatshirt, stuck it into the bag with his towel, and padded towards the shower. Having adapted to his new weight, the grace from a lifetime of athletics had re-entered his gait, and he moved surprisingly smoothly and quietly for his size. Thus it was that he heard the voices in the shower room without them realizing that he was approaching.
You cant go swimming, youll empty the pool! The lifeguards will have to harpoon him to get him out Call Captain Nemo, we found the great white whale! Charles looked into the showers, still without having been noticed. Three thin boys of maybe 11 years old had another boy backed into a corner, taunting him, and faking grabs and his substantial belly and breasts. The cornered boy was nearly as tall as they were, but looked younger.
Charles' brain churned. This was clearly unfair. And given his condition he really didnt like people torturing fat people. But then again, he was fat for extraordinary reasons. This boy had to be lazy and eating far too much, which meant hed kind of brought it on himself. Certainly before his curse, Charles had never had much regard for fat people, although theyd had a certain fascination for him.
In the end, it just seemed like the right thing to do, to interfere. Besides which, he had to have a shower before going onto the pool deck. Pitching his voice in the low but commanding tones hed used on the football field he announced They wont do anything real to you, they know that if you get a grip on one of them you could easily pull him to the floor just by leaning on him, and once down youd have way more power to pin him and do whatever you wanted to him.
The thin boys gave him surly looks, and then once he stepped away from the doorway they slipped through and away. The fat boy looked close to tears, and stared at Charles in terror, before rushing out of the showers towards the pool deck.
As Charles took his shower he puzzled over the various reactions. He could somewhat understand the tormentors looking surly about having an adult intervene, and he supposed they would not have liked the suggestion that the fat boy could beat one of them up. Charles was not sure that what he said was trueit was quite possible that the fat boy would be too slow or clumsy to take advantage of his higher weight and would be even more helpless on the ground. But he hoped it would make the tormentors more cautious next time.
What really bothered him was the reaction of the chubby boy. Not only had Charles ended his torment, hed hopefully headed off future torment, and even given the boy a clue on how he could fight back. Why hadnt the boy been grateful? Charles supposed that maybe the boy just hadnt liked being told how he should fight back; Charles knew hed never liked being bossed around much when he was a kid. But it had seemed like something more than that.
Shrugging it off, he finished his shower, padded out onto the pool deck, and quickly headed for the lane swimming area. After a moment of hesitation he went into the slow lane, really not sure what his speed would be like. He pushed off, and went into an easy front crawl. At least, he tried to, but everything was off. He felt like a lumbering cargo ship or something. After a few strokes he realized that part of the issue was that he was floating so high in the water. Another was that of course he had more body to push through the water. After a few more strokes he then also clued in that with his thighs rubbing together and his arms pushed farther from his sides, the balance between his arms and legs was off. He switched instead to breast stroke, and that flowed a bit better. It took a bit to get his whip kick feeling right, and he certainly slowed down more after each pull and kick, but floating higher didnt bother him here as much.
On the back length he began to overtake the swimmer in front of him, and had to slow down. So at the end of that length he clumsily bobbed under the floating line to the medium speed lane. As he did so he casually glanced across the deck, and saw the chubby boy from the showers pointing in his direction. The boy was talking to a woman who was presumably his motherabout the right age and extremely fat. Pushing off the wall of the pool Charles thought, Probably bringing him up on TV and fried chicken, then he almost swallowed a mouthful of water a couple of strokes later when he realized that the woman was probably about as fat as he was. If he could not be rid of the curse, and had kids some day, what would people think of him as a parent?
As he swam he pondered what his life might be like if he could not be rid of the curse. He was learning to manage it; maybe he could keep from getting much fatter, but there would always be places where he had to be very careful, and people would see him as hugely fat, and judge him for it. That was not a pleasing thought, that judgment. With his familys wealth, a good job would be arranged for him, but hed always imagined being not just well off and powerful, but fit, good lookinga real catch. Would he instead be the fat boss that people listened to in meetings, but made fun of in private?
His reverie was interrupted a couple of lengths later when something touched his back just as he touched one wall. He looked up, blinking chlorinated water away from his eyes. From his perspective he was staring up at a towering figure, backlit by the fluorescent lights far above. Some goddess suddenly manifest on the edge of the pool was his momentary, frantic, thought.
He blinked, and realized that actually it was a lifeguard. She crouched down to be closer to his level, and suddenly seemed humanin fact quite young. Still, some remnant of divine glamour seemed to linger in Charles mind. Maybe it was the well-defined muscles of her thighs flexing in front of his eyes as she crouched, maybe it was how she seemed to be wide, full of hip and shoulder, but at the same time not the least fat.
Can we talk for a minute? she asked, without it seeming like a question at all.
Sure, Charles managed to reply.
I just had a lady tell me that you were telling her boy to beat up some other kids in the change room. I thought I should get your side of things.
Ah, sure, Charles said. "Umm, could I get out of the water? It is hard craning my head up like this. She smiled and stepped back. Without thinking, Charles went to hoist himself up out of the pool. As his stomach began to emerge he was unable to continue with the push, and had to sink back in the water. No way was he going to let some girl see him unable to climb out of a swimming pool! He adjusted his hand position, bounced himself up and down a couple of time, and heaved as hard as he could.
Straining as hard as he could, he could only get himself out of the water up to where his waist had once been. Starting to go red in the face he managed to ease up another inch, and get the lower slope of his belly started over the edge. Pushing forward he managed to get more of fat to flow onto the pool edge. He then leaned forward, letting the compressed fat support his weight briefly, before wallowing to one side enough to swing one thick leg up on the side, and then scrabble the rest of his body up onto the pool deck. After catching a couple of breaths he got up to his hand and knees, ignored the lifeguard's proffered hand, and managed to heave himself to his feet. Panting, he waddled after the lifeguard to a bench up against the wall.
Once perched there, very conscious of his belly rolling down his lap, he explained what had happened. The life guard considered for a moment, then replied I accept that you acted out of good intentions, and were not really meaning for violence to happen. But there are better ways to handle something like that. Id think that . And she paused, biting her lip.
That action triggered something in Charles memory. "Wait, I know you, from high school. Mrs. Grundys Shakespeare course. Youre Ha ..I mean, Mary-Helen. He could not believe that hed almost used the nickname one of his buddies had bestowed on the curvy but nerdy girl: Hairy-Melon.
Actually you're right, I just go by Helen now, she replied, apparently oblivious to what hed actually been about to say. She looked at him intently, and Charles waited for that vague look to hit her. Instead she shook her head, and said, You have to be Charles Detour. But, but, you cant be.
Charles looked at her, concerned. What do you mean I cant be?
She replied slowly, I recognize you, but you were one of the obnoxious rich jocks. Charles did not debate the classification, and she continued, I paid no attention to you, you werent interesting. I only listed 1.5 of the guys in that class as interesting, and none were the jocks. But you are .. she faded off, and Charles thought she might be blushing.
Never mind that, what you suggested is in line of what I remember of youready with the quick but shallow comment. A better approach would just to have been present, that would have defused things, and you could maybe have said something about how pool rules dont allow bullying. Not that I recall your clique being all that apt to stop bullying. Still, you did help a .. absolutely, you had a locker down the hall from mine last year, I remember your buddies gathering there after classes. No way you were so, I mean .. With that she fell silent, staring at him.
With a sense of dread, Charles realized that he was facing a wild talent. His familys dragon hunting fortune came from having some resistance to their illusions and mental influenceotherwise theyd never come close to finding the beasts. It was known that this resistance occurred in others occasionally. Family policy was clear - these wild talents had to be brought in to be evaluated. Keeping the talent strong over the generations was crucial.
Hey, ummm. He quickly beat his brain for something to say, then he hit upon a possibility You look really strong. Do you do weights, or run hills or something?
She glanced down at her body dismissively. A lot of swimming. I do five hundred meters of mixed whip kick and scissor kick three times a week for my legs. But I do some weights too, for extra power. I only turned 18 this summer, but Ive been training to life guard for ages, Ive always wanted to protect people.
Cool, replied Charles. Look, you know my sister, Catherine, shes been talking about wanting to break out of her rut, get away from the popular, peppy clique. I was thinking maybe some hard training instead of aerobics classes would be a good start. And maybe shed even consider something like life guarding. Would you be willing to talk to her? As he said it, he felt incredibly lame.
Charles could see in her face that she was about to say no. Then she looked at him again, and said OK, I could do thatif you are there too. Id love to see what training you doyou swim pretty well for .I mean, I thought youd have a hard time even with a ladder because, well, yeah, Id do that. She was definitely blushing now, to Charles amazement.
They made arrangements for her to come over in a couple of days, then a slightly bemused Charles went back to swimming. On the drive home he told Catherine all about the encounter. She exclaimed, "You invited Hairy-Melon over?"
"You know that name? I thought it was just Dave and the team who called her that."
"Oh, I think the whole school does. You know she annoys people, the way that she always knew the answer, and the way that she'd totally ignore the guys who were interested in her. The betting amongst my friends is that she's a dyke--just look at those linebacker legs."
"She says she's just going by Helen these days."
"OK, Melon it is!"
"Helen. And don't make fun of her. She's a wild talent, we have to make her want to hang around for long enough to see how much talent she has."
"Oh, all right. I do like that you are worrying about the family future, but you don't have to be THAT serious you know."
Charles didn't say anything, not quite clear on why he didn't want jokes made about Helen.
~~end part 3~~
Charles and the Dragon's Curse
Parts 1 - 3
Parts 1 - 3
Part 3
Over the next couple of weeks, Charles refined his understanding and control of his curse, and the new ability to project it on others. Working with his family, he determined that the curses definition of someone eating with him was largely subjective. Walking down a street was OK, but venturing onto an outdoor patio was not. In a car he was affected by those in the car. In a hotel it seemed that each room was viewed as one dwelling, and the restaurant as being separate again, so in a room he was affected only by those in that room, and in the lobby hed only be affected by those in the lobby. However in a house, it seemed that he was affected by everyone in the house.
After a hasty renovation, a couple of rooms at the back of the house were turned into a small apartment with its own entrance. In an example of the subjective nature of dragons magic, the door into the rest of the house was equipped with a lock, and so long as it was locked Charles was not affected by eating in the house. When the door was unlocked, he was affected. However, if everyone who was in the house and apartment thought it was locked, even though it was not, Charles remained unaffected.
Charles Aunt Eleanor went into a flurry of research and writing at this news, saying it firmly disproved Dagoberts conjecture of 1723Charles was impressed that he actually managed to convince her that he understood what she meant, and that he cared. He considered that maybe as fat as his face was, it made his features harder to read.
He might have said making him harder to read was the only benefit of being so fat, but really, he found that was not the case. His stomach was a very comfortable place to rest his hands. When he walked somewhere, people moved out of his way. Instead of being expected to be always ready to do something athletic or to use his muscles, now people were impressed, surprised, and pleased to see him do anything remotely physically challenginghe knew he was probably stronger than ever, but people discounted the muscles under the mountain of flab.
Perhaps best of all, he jiggled. Hed tried to ignore this at first, just one more horrible consequence of becoming so fat. However, hed come to admit to himself that actually he liked the feeling of jiggling and shaking. A nice snug pair of jeans holding his lower parts in place, but forcing his gut and love handles to protrude out, set up a situation where his whole midriff seemed to shake and jiggle if he moved the right way, something that he found surprisingly enjoyable. And when he was doing other things his breasts jiggled and quaked, something that at first had made him blush, but which over time hed come to anticipate eagerly.
With this new enjoyment of his body, and better control over the curse, he was able to be around people more. It was a little odd meeting people who had known him for years; he could often see a momentary vagueness in their eyes as the curse affected their memories. Theyd look at him without recognition for a moment, pause ever so briefly, then remember him. Old team mates would greet him with comments like Hey man, how are you? The team is really going to miss you at .. and then the vagueness would be there for a moment, before theyd say the weight room, you always really made sure we worked out hard.
Charles was a little disappointed that only he and his family seemed to remember his starring role in high school sports. In fact, even some family members, who seemed to have the dragon-slayer blood less strongly in their veins, struggled to remember that hed not always been fat.
One unseasonably cold and rainy Saturday in late September, his sister Catherine finally persuaded him to come swimming at the town pool. They were not sure if Charles would be affected by the snack bar or not, but by now he could sense when the curse was active, and could re-direct it almost without thought. It was more a matter of him feeling bad about targeting an innocent party than any practical concern. He was still a little over 300 pounds, despite his improved management of the curse, so he knew hed stand out at the pool, but he supposed hed have to get used to that.
He left his muddy shoes on the rack at the entrance of the change rooms, then, since he was already wearing his massive swim trunks he merely shucked off his sweatshirt, stuck it into the bag with his towel, and padded towards the shower. Having adapted to his new weight, the grace from a lifetime of athletics had re-entered his gait, and he moved surprisingly smoothly and quietly for his size. Thus it was that he heard the voices in the shower room without them realizing that he was approaching.
You cant go swimming, youll empty the pool! The lifeguards will have to harpoon him to get him out Call Captain Nemo, we found the great white whale! Charles looked into the showers, still without having been noticed. Three thin boys of maybe 11 years old had another boy backed into a corner, taunting him, and faking grabs and his substantial belly and breasts. The cornered boy was nearly as tall as they were, but looked younger.
Charles' brain churned. This was clearly unfair. And given his condition he really didnt like people torturing fat people. But then again, he was fat for extraordinary reasons. This boy had to be lazy and eating far too much, which meant hed kind of brought it on himself. Certainly before his curse, Charles had never had much regard for fat people, although theyd had a certain fascination for him.
In the end, it just seemed like the right thing to do, to interfere. Besides which, he had to have a shower before going onto the pool deck. Pitching his voice in the low but commanding tones hed used on the football field he announced They wont do anything real to you, they know that if you get a grip on one of them you could easily pull him to the floor just by leaning on him, and once down youd have way more power to pin him and do whatever you wanted to him.
The thin boys gave him surly looks, and then once he stepped away from the doorway they slipped through and away. The fat boy looked close to tears, and stared at Charles in terror, before rushing out of the showers towards the pool deck.
As Charles took his shower he puzzled over the various reactions. He could somewhat understand the tormentors looking surly about having an adult intervene, and he supposed they would not have liked the suggestion that the fat boy could beat one of them up. Charles was not sure that what he said was trueit was quite possible that the fat boy would be too slow or clumsy to take advantage of his higher weight and would be even more helpless on the ground. But he hoped it would make the tormentors more cautious next time.
What really bothered him was the reaction of the chubby boy. Not only had Charles ended his torment, hed hopefully headed off future torment, and even given the boy a clue on how he could fight back. Why hadnt the boy been grateful? Charles supposed that maybe the boy just hadnt liked being told how he should fight back; Charles knew hed never liked being bossed around much when he was a kid. But it had seemed like something more than that.
Shrugging it off, he finished his shower, padded out onto the pool deck, and quickly headed for the lane swimming area. After a moment of hesitation he went into the slow lane, really not sure what his speed would be like. He pushed off, and went into an easy front crawl. At least, he tried to, but everything was off. He felt like a lumbering cargo ship or something. After a few strokes he realized that part of the issue was that he was floating so high in the water. Another was that of course he had more body to push through the water. After a few more strokes he then also clued in that with his thighs rubbing together and his arms pushed farther from his sides, the balance between his arms and legs was off. He switched instead to breast stroke, and that flowed a bit better. It took a bit to get his whip kick feeling right, and he certainly slowed down more after each pull and kick, but floating higher didnt bother him here as much.
On the back length he began to overtake the swimmer in front of him, and had to slow down. So at the end of that length he clumsily bobbed under the floating line to the medium speed lane. As he did so he casually glanced across the deck, and saw the chubby boy from the showers pointing in his direction. The boy was talking to a woman who was presumably his motherabout the right age and extremely fat. Pushing off the wall of the pool Charles thought, Probably bringing him up on TV and fried chicken, then he almost swallowed a mouthful of water a couple of strokes later when he realized that the woman was probably about as fat as he was. If he could not be rid of the curse, and had kids some day, what would people think of him as a parent?
As he swam he pondered what his life might be like if he could not be rid of the curse. He was learning to manage it; maybe he could keep from getting much fatter, but there would always be places where he had to be very careful, and people would see him as hugely fat, and judge him for it. That was not a pleasing thought, that judgment. With his familys wealth, a good job would be arranged for him, but hed always imagined being not just well off and powerful, but fit, good lookinga real catch. Would he instead be the fat boss that people listened to in meetings, but made fun of in private?
His reverie was interrupted a couple of lengths later when something touched his back just as he touched one wall. He looked up, blinking chlorinated water away from his eyes. From his perspective he was staring up at a towering figure, backlit by the fluorescent lights far above. Some goddess suddenly manifest on the edge of the pool was his momentary, frantic, thought.
He blinked, and realized that actually it was a lifeguard. She crouched down to be closer to his level, and suddenly seemed humanin fact quite young. Still, some remnant of divine glamour seemed to linger in Charles mind. Maybe it was the well-defined muscles of her thighs flexing in front of his eyes as she crouched, maybe it was how she seemed to be wide, full of hip and shoulder, but at the same time not the least fat.
Can we talk for a minute? she asked, without it seeming like a question at all.
Sure, Charles managed to reply.
I just had a lady tell me that you were telling her boy to beat up some other kids in the change room. I thought I should get your side of things.
Ah, sure, Charles said. "Umm, could I get out of the water? It is hard craning my head up like this. She smiled and stepped back. Without thinking, Charles went to hoist himself up out of the pool. As his stomach began to emerge he was unable to continue with the push, and had to sink back in the water. No way was he going to let some girl see him unable to climb out of a swimming pool! He adjusted his hand position, bounced himself up and down a couple of time, and heaved as hard as he could.
Straining as hard as he could, he could only get himself out of the water up to where his waist had once been. Starting to go red in the face he managed to ease up another inch, and get the lower slope of his belly started over the edge. Pushing forward he managed to get more of fat to flow onto the pool edge. He then leaned forward, letting the compressed fat support his weight briefly, before wallowing to one side enough to swing one thick leg up on the side, and then scrabble the rest of his body up onto the pool deck. After catching a couple of breaths he got up to his hand and knees, ignored the lifeguard's proffered hand, and managed to heave himself to his feet. Panting, he waddled after the lifeguard to a bench up against the wall.
Once perched there, very conscious of his belly rolling down his lap, he explained what had happened. The life guard considered for a moment, then replied I accept that you acted out of good intentions, and were not really meaning for violence to happen. But there are better ways to handle something like that. Id think that . And she paused, biting her lip.
That action triggered something in Charles memory. "Wait, I know you, from high school. Mrs. Grundys Shakespeare course. Youre Ha ..I mean, Mary-Helen. He could not believe that hed almost used the nickname one of his buddies had bestowed on the curvy but nerdy girl: Hairy-Melon.
Actually you're right, I just go by Helen now, she replied, apparently oblivious to what hed actually been about to say. She looked at him intently, and Charles waited for that vague look to hit her. Instead she shook her head, and said, You have to be Charles Detour. But, but, you cant be.
Charles looked at her, concerned. What do you mean I cant be?
She replied slowly, I recognize you, but you were one of the obnoxious rich jocks. Charles did not debate the classification, and she continued, I paid no attention to you, you werent interesting. I only listed 1.5 of the guys in that class as interesting, and none were the jocks. But you are .. she faded off, and Charles thought she might be blushing.
Never mind that, what you suggested is in line of what I remember of youready with the quick but shallow comment. A better approach would just to have been present, that would have defused things, and you could maybe have said something about how pool rules dont allow bullying. Not that I recall your clique being all that apt to stop bullying. Still, you did help a .. absolutely, you had a locker down the hall from mine last year, I remember your buddies gathering there after classes. No way you were so, I mean .. With that she fell silent, staring at him.
With a sense of dread, Charles realized that he was facing a wild talent. His familys dragon hunting fortune came from having some resistance to their illusions and mental influenceotherwise theyd never come close to finding the beasts. It was known that this resistance occurred in others occasionally. Family policy was clear - these wild talents had to be brought in to be evaluated. Keeping the talent strong over the generations was crucial.
Hey, ummm. He quickly beat his brain for something to say, then he hit upon a possibility You look really strong. Do you do weights, or run hills or something?
She glanced down at her body dismissively. A lot of swimming. I do five hundred meters of mixed whip kick and scissor kick three times a week for my legs. But I do some weights too, for extra power. I only turned 18 this summer, but Ive been training to life guard for ages, Ive always wanted to protect people.
Cool, replied Charles. Look, you know my sister, Catherine, shes been talking about wanting to break out of her rut, get away from the popular, peppy clique. I was thinking maybe some hard training instead of aerobics classes would be a good start. And maybe shed even consider something like life guarding. Would you be willing to talk to her? As he said it, he felt incredibly lame.
Charles could see in her face that she was about to say no. Then she looked at him again, and said OK, I could do thatif you are there too. Id love to see what training you doyou swim pretty well for .I mean, I thought youd have a hard time even with a ladder because, well, yeah, Id do that. She was definitely blushing now, to Charles amazement.
They made arrangements for her to come over in a couple of days, then a slightly bemused Charles went back to swimming. On the drive home he told Catherine all about the encounter. She exclaimed, "You invited Hairy-Melon over?"
"You know that name? I thought it was just Dave and the team who called her that."
"Oh, I think the whole school does. You know she annoys people, the way that she always knew the answer, and the way that she'd totally ignore the guys who were interested in her. The betting amongst my friends is that she's a dyke--just look at those linebacker legs."
"She says she's just going by Helen these days."
"OK, Melon it is!"
"Helen. And don't make fun of her. She's a wild talent, we have to make her want to hang around for long enough to see how much talent she has."
"Oh, all right. I do like that you are worrying about the family future, but you don't have to be THAT serious you know."
Charles didn't say anything, not quite clear on why he didn't want jokes made about Helen.
~~end part 3~~
