Jack gave a friendly final wave as the last tour for the day moved off from the Exhibition Hall. With the clamour of excitable children gone, he crossed over to the costumed dummies and slid the shield back in its proper place.

He stepped back, admiring his work, before his blue eyes settled on the mannequin of the short Viking with the messy reddish hair.

That was when he felt a gentle tug on his sleeve, and he turned around.

"Hi." the boy greeted.

"Hey." Jack smiled. "Are you looking for someone?"

"No, I just wanted to ask you something."

"Fire away."

"How do you know so much about Vikings?"

He cast another glance towards the ensemble cast on display. "Oh, well, people have been studying Vikings for years, translating stuff, digging up things left behind, and from that the folks here and at other museums are able to get a pretty good idea about what they used to do."

"But you seem so certain about what you're talking about, aren't there things the museum people don't know for sure?"

"Definitely, but whenever there's something they're unsure about, they wait until they can find someone that proves what they're thinking."

The boy looked puzzled. "'Someone'?" he enquired.

Jack chuckled at the slip. "Sorry, I meant 'something'."

The boy considered this, before smiling a little. "Thanks, you're a lot more fun than the other guides."

"I try." he shrugged casually. "Do you live locally, erm?"

"Jamie. Yeah."

"Cool, well tell you what. The next time you're here, tell them you're a friend of Jack's, and we might be able to show you some of the stuff they're restoring."

Jamie beamed at the idea, and it warmed Jack's heart.

"Cool!" he glanced toward the door, where his mother and little sister were waiting patiently. "I've got to go now. Thanks, Jack."

The boy dashed off, a spring in his step and Jack continued to watch as they, and the last patrons left the museum.

Once he was alone, he turned back to the red-headed mannequin again, dressed in a close facsimile of that familiar long, green shirt, and brown furry vest.

This wasn't his first museum job, nor would it be his last. When you'd been around as long as Jack had, and could remember as much as he did, it was the natural way to put that personal history to good use.

He could make history a little less dry for the children, and he had Hiccup for company. What more could he want?