Ah, Speak Easys and flappers. What a time. Just watch out for Jay Gatsby.


She liked the new fad going around with the women her age. She liked that it made people almost afraid of her, it made her almost dangerous, and it was so much more fun to be dangerous than be the goody-goody her parents had raised her to be.

The skirts were short, the dancing was quick, and the drinks made of bootlegged liquor were stiff (Astrid herself wouldn't know too much about that last part- alcohol burned her throat and made her ill, even in the smallest quantities. She pretended she drank, though. Always a glass somewhere). Some of her friends had cut their hair and dyed it black. She wouldn't touch her own hair with scissors and dye, she liked being a blonde too much.

She could play ditzy well, though she was anything but. She was gorgeous and frightening, the kind of girl that made any well-respecting man question his morals when they just spared her a glance. She could be a flirt- she liked having a sort of power over men. The power came with the attitude, she learned. It helped, however, that she was beautiful.

She could flirt with any man in all of New York, but there was one she couldn't help but notice that seemed to render her power useless.

He was seemingly everywhere she was during the day, unintentionally, of course. Always looking frazzled and messy. He worked on Wall Street, the rich little brat. She couldn't bring herself to flirt with him like she did with everyone else.

He bumped into her on the street and dropped a few papers. He sighed heavily and started to pick them up. His hair was untidy and his clothes were a bit wrinkled. He didn't look like a Wall Street sort of man.

"I'm very sorry, Miss." he apologized politely, despite sounding irritated. "I'm having a bit of a rough day."

"Not a problem," she replied, helping him with his papers. If it had been anyone else, she would have shot him a dazzling smile, but she only smiled kindly at him. She handed him the papers and he took them gratefully.

"Thank you Miss...?"he responded, clutching his work tightly in one hand and extending his other towards her.

She took it. "Astrid. Astrid Hofferson."

"I'm Henry Haddock."

She giggled. Haddock?

"Yes, yes, my name is a fish." He smiled. "Well, I must be going. Thank you again."

"Anytime,"

"I hope to you around, Miss Hofferson."

"Same to you," She smiled before heading back on her way.

Maybe he made her power useless because he already had a power over her.


A/N: Astrid would so be a flapper. Such a spunky girl would have to be a flapper. No choice. I think Henry would marry her eventually and Stoick hated her originally, but then found out she was a nice girl.