His future son-in-law smiles happily at him. "It feels more dramatic from the outside. Worked just fine, I'm assuming?"

"If it hadn't gone off the stuff would still be here. How do you feel, Dad?"

"Oh, all right - good but not so good I couldn't be imagining it."

"I think he was quantifying, not really doubting."

"Awww, but I had such a nice chance to be supportive, I love doing it so much!"

Charlie smiles quietly. And hugs his daughter.

"You're very good at it, love. How do you like being immortal, Dad?"

"Ask me again in a few hundred years," Charlie suggests.

Adarin smiles at them both. "Glad you'll be there then," he says sincerely. "We can see if there are any large breakthroughs in fishing pole technology."

Isabella laughs and squeezes her dad. "As long as the new fishing poles don't take all the inexplicable supposed fun out of the inactivity that is fishing."

"Here's hoping," says Charlie dryly.

"If not - we can be like witches who are several hundred years old and be obstinate in our ways."

"Being quite like witches in this respect would require the ability to make your own fishing poles out of materials you can gather from the wilderness."

"Awww. I don't get to be a real witch and not have any electricity at all. Darn."

"But you had no electricity for a long time before you came here, didn't you have enough of that?"

"I yearn for home," drawls Adarin. "The land of no indoor plumbing and no Wikipedia. Or microwaves."

Isabella giggles. And kisses him.

"And more so all the time. Its future is now projected to contain considerably more Adarin, for example!"

He laughs. "Yup! Thank you for that, my dear." Snuggle.

"No need to thank me, citizen, I operate solely out of a desire to improve the Adarinity of the world."

Charlie chuckles affectionately and heads up the stairs. He looks a little younger, maybe, around the eyes.

"Adarinity. I wasn't aware my name could decline, that's interesting to know," he snorts.

"It can if I try hard and believe in myself."