For the next two days, or there abouts... we rested, talked about things, and... I went and got a gym membership. So did Helen and Jim. It was sure as Hell awkward though, having to go stand in a locker room and change into loose sweat pants and a tank top. Man, I sure got stared at. I mean, stared at real hard. It was not unreasonable, though. Six foot something woman with scars and a prosthetic, covered in weirdo magic tattoos. Staring is the reasonable thing to do in that instance.

We worked out. Helen had a lot less strength and a LOT less endurance than we did - but she tried. She worked her ass off, using what machines she could adjust to her height and picking up the slack with free weights with Jim and I’s help. Tozzy and Cail hung out in the truck outside.

It felt good, to get back into working out. I ran for what felt like forever, lost in the quiet in my head. Jim and I worked out a full routine for lifting that we agreed would benefit me. By the time I was done, I was so physically exhausted I could barely manage that whole walking thing people are so excited about.

Helen had informed us we had ultra high speed healing, and we should really consider how that might affect working out. There was, she said, a reason why most of the warriors of ancient times who bore mantles were insanely fit - because they had cheat codes to fitness.

She had an incredibly solid point. Incredibly solid.

So I worked out far, far more than would have been safe  when I was...

Human.

The working out aside, we agreed we needed a bigger house. With her cut of the combined pay from Jim’s surprisingly well paying transport security job (he got a bonus for saving everyone), Helen bought a shitload of things you’d find in a machine shop.

We promptly realized she had no room in her basement room for all of it, materials storage, safe ventilation, and so on.

It was a serious issue. On top of that, working out at a public gym meant having to hamper ourselves in some areas so we didn’t look like superheroes trying to make scrawny normals sad about their lack of magic buffness. Tozzy was tired of sleeping outside.

It was a problem we literally could not remedy easily.

On the first day, Jim and I had a little conversation.

“You have to wear nice clothes to the dinner, Henri,” he told me, while we were in the Bazaar picking up some supplies and things for after Christmas.

“...what, like... a shirt that doesn’t have blood stains or stitches from being repaired?” I asked, frowning at him. Helen snorted, shaking her head. Cail and Tozzy were cuddled up near by, resting while we ate at a cafe.

“No, I mean like... I don’t know. A nice dress. Something... you know, appropriate,” he replied, awkwardly.

“Jim, I haven’t worn a dress since my mom died. I also haven’t worn a skirt, that I remember. I don’t like them,” I told him, glaring.

“...what’s wrong with dresses?” Helen asked.

“I dunno. I just feel exposed in them. I don’t like the feeling of my legs all... I dunno, barely covered, and like... the femininity of it. Mom insisted I wear dresses suitable for different activities, was the one thing that irked me,” I muttered, glancing away. “One dress for hunting, one dress for exercise and play, and so on. I’m not wearing a dress.”

“Fine, wear a suit. I don’t care, man. Just wear something nice. Black, if you get a suit. White shirt, nice tie that isn’t loud,” Jim instructed. I sighed.

“...if I wasn’t living in your house, man... I swear...” I muttered, pinching the bridge of my nose. “Fine, dad. I’ll get a suit.”

“Keep calling me Dad, I’m gonna start to like it,” he told me tersely - and then he blinked, cheeks darkening. I raised an eyebrow.

“That was a joke I’d make, man. You’re really stressing about this, eh?”

“Look. My parents were so upset when I disrespected their instructions as a kid that I’m still kind of traumatized by it,” he muttered, glancing aside. “Don’t take that to mean they’re bad people, I just got issues when it comes to... disappointing them.”

I sighed and nodded.

“Alright, man. I’ll dress nice.”

So I had to get a fucking suit.

I went off to the brother’s Jameson and asked if they’d tailor me a damn suit that wasn’t... too girly. I mean, cut it to fit and look nice, sure, but don’t make a point of accentuating my breasts like my other clothing did. It was a minor gripe about their work on my regular outfit, but like...

They didn’t need any help being, is all I’m saying.

I stood there through measurements and questions, told them what Jim told me. They listened intently, while their goo shop assistant tooled around on his phone. I asked if they could integrate some kind of armor, just... to make me feel better. They told me they’d fit it so I could still wear my vest if necessary. That made me feel slightly better. I asked if I could fit a holster under the jacket. They said they’d do what they could.

I wound up with a tailored black suit from top to bottom - shirt, pants, nice dress shoes, dressy socks, and a tie that they assured me wasn’t too loud. I tried it on, made sure it fit well and looked good, and paid them.

“It suits you!” the light brother boomed.

“Oh, brother! You’re hilarious!” the dark one also boomed. They had a good laugh. I couldn’t resist a smile. The Brothers Jameson might be fucking idiots, but they’re sweet idiots. Fun to be around.

“Thanks, guys. You’re the best,” I told them. The goo glanced over, chuckled, and quietly slipped out of the room. I then endured multiple hugs and thanks for my praise of their work. I think they were actually tearing up.

Big, sweet...

Idiots.

Once I managed to disentangle myself from the BJ’s - probably shouldn’t abbreviate that - I returned to my friends, showed off the suit that I was... pretty comfortable in, and we left.

So that there is the summary of events leading up to Christmas dinner with Jim’s folks.

On the drive there, I contemplated downing an entire god damn flask I had in my pocket. Helen fussed over her hair and makeup. Cail slept in the back seat, unconcerned with everything. I envy how easily my boy can relax.

He was getting big though. So, so big.

I got out on arrival and stared at the uh... house.

The fucking house was more like a castle. We’d had to drive a bit out of the city to get there - but it struck me as being closer to the main city than I would have thought. Close enough, perhaps, to make keeping dragons there a dangerous proposition. It was, in fact, closer to the city than Jim’s house, even. The place was huge, though. I mean, mansion huge. The doors to get in were so big it was startling, the place appeared to be built from stone blocks - but there were a lot of old castle-like buildings in Moontown. It was one of the biggest tourist draws. City Hall was basically in what used to be the main building of a castle, even.

Helen stepped up beside me as I opened the door to let sleepy Cail out. Jim parked next to us and helped Tozzy out of the back of my truck - Tozzy was getting to the size that he wasn’t going to fit for much longer. Problems abound.

Jim stepped up and stared at me.

“Henry, are you wearing a saber?” he asked.

“Yes, I am. And I am not taking it, or the pistol under my jacket, or my body armor vest, off. It’s not happening,” I told him, frowning. “I assume you told them we know about Tozzy, so I assume they know we’re magical.”

Jim sighed. He was really not prepared for this. I got the feeling he’d done an awful job of lying to his parents, because he wasn’t... good at it.

“They know you’re aware of magic, and Tozzy, obviously. They don’t know we work together, that I quit my job, that I’ve killed people, that my life is now insanely dangerous, that I’m... bound to Tozzy...” he trailed off. “I told them you’re a hunter, Henri, and Helen is an engineer who was down on her luck and I needed to help you both because you’re my only friends other than Tozzy.”

“So I don’t need to take the saber off. I’m a hunter and they know I’m magic, so obviously they’re aware of what I am,” I said slowly.

He sighed.

“What else do you have on you?”

“A knife in each pocket... uh... my belt knife, a few mags in my bag, my huge canon too... a few flasks of liquor-” I started to list.

“-No. No drinking. No liquor, either of you!” Jim snapped. Helen snorted.

“I’m from fuckin’ Scotland and it’s Christmas, and you’re telling me not to drink? You need to calm down, DAD,” she replied. I couldn’t suppress a laugh. Cail and Tozzy made their own amused noises. Jim looked like he was falling apart as he pinched the bridge of his nose.

“Don’t call me that. They will assume it’s a sexual thing,” he muttered.

“Sure, daddy,” Helen said.

“Yeah, whatever you say, pops,” I added. He glared daggers at us.

“I’m fucking serious.”

“And I’m serious that you gotta calm down, man. We’re going to behave,” I replied, stepping up and grabbing his shoulder. His suit was as nice as mine, for the record. “Just relax. It’s going to be fine, man. We won’t fuck with you once we’re inside. I promise. This place, though... it’s built like a castle. Is it supposed to resist canonfire or something?”

“Dragon fire, actually. It was a family home, as in... my family. For a long time, before America developed to the point where Moontown spread too close, dragons were raised and protected here. Most of the places are in the mountains now, or in the more desolate parts of Arizona, New Mexico, and so on,” Jim explained. It made a certain level of sense, to my way of mind.

We approached the doors, the three two legged among us in the middle, Cail and Tozzy to either side. Jim grasped a heavy knocker on the left door and knocked hard.

The doors swung open wide, revealing a massive entry hall. A handsome black man, somewhere north of fifty, stepped back, wearing a stiff smile. A much more relaxed looking Asian woman waited a bit further in, wearing a lovely dress and a more normal smile. She was beautiful in an intimidating sort of way, bearing a terrible trio of scars across her face and an eyepatch over her left eye.

“Son... right on time. Good,” the man said, with a voice both deep and smooth.

“Sir, yes sir,” Jim replied stiffly, in a somehow militaristic manner. I glanced at him. His hand was twitching, as if he was resisting the urge to salute. “Merry Christmas, sir.”

“Merry Christmas, son,” Jim’s dad replied, before his eyes drifted to us. “And you, you must be Jim’s room mates.”

“Yes, sir,” I said, unsure what to answer with. Helen echoed me. Cail sat down all politely and raised a paw, sort of waving as much as he could.

“Sir? Mmm. It’s good your roomates have good manners, Jim. Manners maketh man, after all,” the big man murmured. “So, let’s see here. Henrietta, Helen and Calean, yes?”

We all gave our affirmatives. The man was so intimidating, despite being so relaxed at the moment. I mean, I felt like I had to stand up dead straight in front of him. He had piercing eyes, sparkling with awareness and intelligence.

“Well, Merry Christmas to all of you. I’ll say this. You can call me sir, or Rodney. This is my wife, Yoko. For her, you will use Yoko, or ma’am,” he said, glancing to the woman. She made her way up to us, her smile widening into a grin. It was so much like Jim’s, that grin.

“Well, alright,” I said, slowly. Jim’s father raised an eyebrow. I coughed and amended myself with, “Sir. Alright, sir.”

 “Yes, sir,” Helen added, in a rather nervous tone. He nodded, and then looked to Cail, frowning.

“Can’t forget about you, young man. What is is name, Henrietta?”’

I blinked and said, “Cailean. Cail.”

“Mmm. Merry Christmas, Cailean,” Rod said, eyes locked right on Cail. Cail wuffed softly, wagging, and gave a very much ‘and to you to’ sort of nod.

“He says Merry Christmas, sir,” I translated. Rodney turned his intense gaze to me. It felt like he was staring through me, piercing me, reading my soul.

“Mmhmm. I assume he did,” he answered. I glanced to Jim. He looked so tense that it was almost surprising that he wasn’t sweating like crazy. His usual calm grin was forced in place - but it sure did look forced.

Jim’s mom said something to Rodney in what sounded a bit like Japanese to me. I blinked, staring at her. Helen coughed awkwardly.

“...I have a decent understanding of... Japanese...” Helen murmured, not looking at either of them. “Sorry to be rude, if... that’s rude. But um... I didn’t want to... evesdrop... um... I’m sorry...”

Poor thing, she was so nervous that she couldn’t stop herself from shaking. Cail moved closer to her, nuzzling at her. She chuckled anxiously and nuzzled him back. Though it wouldn’t have been appropriate

Yoko and Rodney watched all of this with interest, before Yoko moved forward. She moved with grace, poise and elegance, her dress immaculate and conservative in a deep gray that went well with the gray streaks in her dark hair. I met her gaze as she passed and shivered.

She had seen some shit. That was unquestionably a woman who had killed people in her life, people she had known had to die for her to survive. She had the look of a woman who would absolutely cling to manners and politeness until it became apparent blade and gun were necessary. They were killer eyes, like so many people aware of magic seemed to have.

She glided past us and shut the doors.

“Shall we have dinner, then?” Yoko asked.

“Please, mother,” Jim told her.

So they led us through the massive main hole and I finally got a reason to look around. There was a gigantic fireplace, with a roaring fire included, two stone staircases flanking the fireplace, a rug from damn door to fireplace, and then double doors on either side, before the staircases. A chandelier designed to look rustic but using bright electric lights provided adequate light.

We took the leftmost door and proceeded down a large hall. I half-expected fucking torches despite the chandelier in the main hall, but the sconces were electric - wrought metal, polished but still with a bumpy texture. Interesting design choices.

The dining hall was about as large as I expected, complete with a long ass wooden table and another fireplace. I had to admit, I kind of dug their set up. The whole... stone floors, stone walls, oldschool designs...

It felt right, for me. That much I knew wasn’t even because of my mantle, not entirely. I just sort of liked that kind of shit.

The table was laden with a fucking feast. I mean, legitimately a damn feast. There were too many plates for me to take in all at once, but I know there was meat - a lot of meat. Roast beef, ham, turkey, various kinds of fish... I was so damn excited.

And then I saw the platters of raw meats of all kinds. I wondered if I could get away with eating some of that, too. I hadn’t even had raw pork or chicken yet. Sure, those platters were for Tozzy and Cail, but even so...

Mouth watering.

Jim sat to my left, Helen to my right, Cail and Tozzy nearby with platters on the floor for their comfort. Rod and Yoko sat across from us.

“Please, fill your plates, eat. Rod and I worked for hours on all of this, even with thaumaturgic preservation,” Yoko said.

I wasn’t going to argue, man. I loaded my plate up with cooked meat, fully aware of Rod watching me like a hawk. Jim and Helen did the same, though I had to help Helen a bit. She’s got short arms and it was a big table.

The food was delicious. I mean, god damn. I understood where Jim got his cooking skills, absolutely. While I had no urge to talk because I was too busy stuffing delicious food in my face, Rod seemed to have lots of questions.

“So, Henrietta... Jim said you’re a huntress,” he said. My heart skipped a beat.

“Huh? I... uh. Oh, well I am a hunter. Most of the meat for our household comes from my hunting. That’s me, just hunting animals, primarily,” I said, giving him a nervous smile. It occurred to me immediately what I just said and I amended, “I mean, just animals. Only animals, for me. Not into hunting uh... the most dangerous game.”

I know, I’m a great liar. It’s established that if there is a lie to tell, I’m the person to tell it. I know, I know. But man, Jim’s folks were both so intimidating, so poised and confident and... their eyes, both of them staring at me with those piercing, knowing eyes...

Jesus was it unsettling.

“Mmmm. Weapon of choice?”

I blinked.

“I think there’s a correct weapon for each animal, sir. No single weapon serves all purposes. A rifle if I need range, a pistol or two if close, something suppressed if I need a bit of quiet, a bow or knife or sword if I need a lot of quiet,” was my reply. Obviously, I put a bit more damn thought into that one.

He gave an appreciative nod.

“Right tool for the job, eh?” he asked.

“Yes, sir.”

A long enough silence fell that I was able to stuff more food in my face. Yoko spoke next. Jim looked fucking nervous, I tell you. The tension in the room was immense. Tozzy and Cail didn’t give even a half-damn. They were eating and warm and content.

“Helen, my son said you’re an engineer, yes? I was an engineer, for a time, before we started our company... post dragon raising, that is. Tell me, where are you working, now?”

Helen stared at her, mouth open as if to say something, though no words were coming out. She glanced to me, and then down at her plate.

“Oh, I just... I’m doing freelance... um... freelance work, right now, yeah. Some um... consulting,” she replied, obviously trying to hide her anxiety by breaking eye contact.

“Freelanc engineering, hm? Interesting. You know, when we sold the company, I was glad for all of the freedom. I assume the freedom is nice, yes?” she asked.

“Oh, yeah. Freedom, freelance engineering. That’s... yep. I just sorta do what I do and make sure I pay my rent. Jim’s great, keeps it low, you know... owns the house outright and all, no mortgage or anything. At least I can fix problems in the house, too, I mean... plumbing, electrical, I... I do it all, yes ma’am,” Helen babbled. I think she might’ve kept going if I hadn’t laid my hand on her shoulder. She looked to me sharply, nodded, and fell silent.

Everyone damn well fell silent. It was the singularly most awkward silence I had experienced in my life.

Finally, Rod asked, “Jim mentioned you had struggled with cancer, and that was why you needed his help. How is that doing?”

I blinked and looked to Jim. He gave me an apologetic look I took to mean, ‘I’m sorry, I got nervous and just said shit.’

“Well, it’s in remission, sir. It uh... I mean... I’m good.”

He smiled.

“That’s great to hear... it is. Hunting the kind of game you hunt requires a healthy body, I am sure,” he said.

“T... The kind of game?” I asked.

“Well, sure. I imagine you must travel some, to wind up hunting things that could give you that facial scar. I went to African once... not for hunting. Saw a man tangle with a lion. Shot the damn thing four times and it just wouldn’t go down - granted, it was a zombie, but still. He came out of that mess with some nasty scars,” Rod explained.

“Oh, yeah sure, travel. Travel... is good, yeah. Sure, rare game and all,” I answered.

He stared into my eyes so hard I almost cringed away from eye contact.

“I wanted to ask some advice. I’ve not had much luck hunting rabbits, but I’d like to be a little more successful. Would you use traps, for that?” he asked.

“Sure, sure. Traps are good for rabbit hunting, assuming killing the thing doesn’t give you trouble, emotionally - not that I think it would for you sir. Not that... I’m implying you’re heartless, I just mean... uh...”

He held up a hand to shut me up.

“What kind of snare would you recommend? Do you make your own more primitive sort, or do you use modern ones? You know, pre-made.”

“Oh well, uh... pre made snares are fine, though you still... gotta set ‘em up. Uh... I mean, I prefer to just build my own traps...” I answered, trailing off.

“Yeah? I saw this interesting snare the last time I was looking at hunting gear. It was... bronze,” he told me, with a bit of a smirk - a smirk that looked just like Jim’s.

I about fucking died.

Jim groaned. Helen made a nervous noise. Cail and Tozzy glanced over.

“Dad, you’ve known the entire time?” Jim demanded.  Rodney chuckled, his expression shifting to a warmer, calmer sort of look. Yoko smirked.

“You lied to us, son. You hid things. While this very much royally pissed me off, you’re not a child anymore, so I’m not about to punish you much,” Rodney said firmly. “So, we played a little trick, and all you suffered was some anxiety and awkwardness - but we get to laugh about it for the rest of our lives.”

I was kind of stunned. Those fuckers played it so god damn straight I had no idea they were absolutely screwing with us. Tozzy was fucking losing it, laughing so hard he was blasting the stone wall with fire. Even Cail was amused, letting out short, sharp barks that couldn’t be anything but laughter.

Jim just slumped in his chair, looking utterly exhausted.

“How...? How did you... find out?” Jim asked.

“Son, you killed the White Wolf Huntress, did a favor for one of the most popular potion makers in this region, and pissed off one of the Nine Judges. I ran into Mable when picking up some potions to help your mother’s back,” Rod told him, chuckling.

“You really thought we wouldn’t find out, kiddo? You ought to know us better than that,” Yoko said, chuckling daintily.

“Excuse me, but I’d appreciate it if no one made a big deal out of what I’m about to do,” Helen said, voice shaking. “Too much anxiety. Can’t handle this. Been freaking out about this for days.”

She then stood, marched to my chair, made me drag it back... and then she climbed in my lap, made herself as small as possible, and just shook.

“Are you okay?” I whispered to her.

“The idea of upsetting parents... I got... I got issues with that shit, and Jim was so serious... just... just give me a second and I’ll be okay,” she whispered back. I frowned down at her. Issues with upsetting Jim’s parents after he was so serious about everything... it tracked with my theories and speculations about her personal trauma. I stroked her hair softly.

“It’s okay, Helen. It’s okay. No one’s going to yell at you, and if they do... well, they’ll have to tangle with me,” I whispered. I caught myself about a millimeter before my lips touched the top of her head, touched her soft fiery hair.

When I looked up, literally everyone was staring at me. Yoko stood silently, and simply left the room. I gave Jim an apologetic look. The look he gave in return was one of mild irritation - though I don’t think it was with Helen. Mixed with the irritation was serious concern. Rodney was watching with mingled interest and concern.

“Is-” Rod started to ask. I managed to hold up a hand without alerting Helen. I then pointed at her, and mouthed ‘she’ll get even more embarrassed.’ He nodded and sat back in his chair, returning to eating. Yoko returned a minute or two later, carrying a tray of glasses. All three of them were filled with what my nose said was damn good whiskey. Accompanying the glasses, there was a bowl of something downright delicious smelling, all in small pieces.

She set a glass in front of me, another in front of Jim, and then lightly tapped Helen’s shoulder. Some of her stiffness appeared to have faded. She smiled at Helen, holding a glass out to her. Helen took it, blinking, and thanked her in a meek tone. I figured some of that whiskey would return her usual confidence in no time, no matter how much of it was an act.

“May I?” I asked, gesturing at the bowl.

“Go for it,” she replied.

I took one of the brown bits, finding it to be some kind of dried meat mixture that clearly had some kind of wheat in it - dry, crispy, delicious smelling, still warm.

I ate it. The bit of whatever was incredibly flavorful - all kinds of damn tasty meat flavors, good and strong.

“Oh my god, what is that?” I asked.

“Treats for Cailean and Tozzy,” she replied, looking utterly delighted to say so. I blinked, heat rushing to my cheeks.

“...oh. Well, uh... damn good treats, then. Real... uh... good...” I mumbled, looking back down at Helen’s hair. She was covering her mouth with her hand, trying to stifle a LOT of laughter. Yoko simply chuckled and moved to Cail and Tozzy, feeding each of them a few pieces at a time.

“You can go ahead and eat raw meat now, Henri. They’re not going to give you odd looks,” Jim said, eyes on his plate.

“...yeah uh... uh... sure... sure...” I murmured, glancing to Rod. He was eating, his eyes on his own plate, a pleased smirk on his face. I was emotionally exhausted.

So I did what came naturally and drank my damn glass of whiskey dry in a few long pulls.