Part 12

It was her day off from the Diner but Astrid had let Emma go to Nursery because it was painting day and Emma loved painting. But she had arrived exactly in time to collect her daughter-and Emma was chattering excitedly about the visitor she had in lunch break. Astrid was instantly on alert, dropping to a worried crouch and staring into the smiling face and big blue eyes.

"What visitor, baby?" she had asked with forced calm, because she didn't want her daughter to feel she had done anything wrong. Emma was just over three and very bright and well-socialised for her age, but she was still a young child. She smiled.

"The man with the orange hair," she said. "He came in to see me at recess and he said he was my Daddy and I was his Princess and..."

Astrid stiffened, her eyes wide and she lifted the child in her arms, locking her hug protectively around her. She leaned close, walking swiftly to find one of the staff.

"That man is not your father," she hissed angrily. "He is a bad man who hurt Mommy. You are not to talk to him." Predictably, the child made a pouty face.

"Can I keep the dolly he gave me, Mommy?" she asked. Astrid closed her eyes.

"Dolly?" she repeated.

"Yeah, he gave me a dolly and he said he guessed I like pink and..." Emma said but Astrid shook her head.

"No, I'm afraid you can't, sweetie," she said firmly. Emma's lip trembled.

"But he said he liked me and it is a very pretty dolly and..." Astrid reached the manager's office and paused.

"Emma," she said softly, "that very bad man will think you like him if you keep the dolly. And that will mean he tries to come round more. Can I ask you to be very responsible, please and give me the dolly?" Emma gave a small reluctant nod.

"Okay, Mommy," she sighed and hugged her mother as they entered the office. The Manager, Annabel, looked up and saw Astrid's serious face.

"Is there a problem, Astrid?" she asked pleasantly, putting her pen aside. Astrid sat down, sitting Emma on her knee and nodded.

"Emma had a visitor today," she said firmly. "I left express instructions when she started that only I or my mother are permitted to collect or visit Emma." Annabel lifted a thick eyebrow, her long face twisted in surprise.

"But I was given to understand that he was her father..." she began but Astrid's face reddened with anger.

"She doesn't have a father!" she snapped.

"But..."

"Emma's father rejected her before she was born and forbade me to have any contact with him," she snarled. "He threatened me with litigation if I told him anything about her or tried to claim she was his. So she has no father. And I will not have a stranger coming here and suddenly trying to become a parent when he has done nothing for her!"

"But he showed scans of the pregnancy and when she was born and he knew her date of birth..."

I should never had given in. I should never have sent that last text when I was alone and desperate and so down after she was born. He didn't deserve sending a picture of his new daughter. Damn him.

"He is not to see her," Astrid insisted. "Check her birth certificate. There is no father named. He is not her father and you are not to permit him to see her. Is that clear?" Annabel stared at the furious woman and sighed.

"Can you give a description?" she asked heavily, seeing Emma press against her angry mother. Astrid nodded curtly.

"Red hair, green eyes," she said firmly. "If he turns up, you are to call the police immediately and have him arrested. Do not let him go with her!" She sighed. "I'll see if I can find an old photo for you to help." Annabel nodded.

"I am really sorry," she said. "He was so convincing. He just seemed so committed, so keen to see his daughter..." Astrid sighed.

"Yes, he can be very pleasant and convincing...until he decides what he wants," she said quietly. "And then he takes what he desires and will do anything to get it-no matter who he hurts in the process."

oOo

Emma was safely with her mother as she went round to collect Hiccup for the latest date. Hiccup was very anxious about this one, since the prospective girl-Barf1994-had described herself as 'crazy fun loving adventurous prankster'.

"But she's blonde," Astrid pointed out after she arrived to find him pacing back and forth, hyperventilating.

"So was 'adventurous' Cami," he grumbled. "Now I can't go to the Mall either!" She tried to smile at his chagrin but a wave of anxiety washed over her as she recalled that Dagur had found Emma. Instantly, Hiccup had stopped at her side and peered into her pensive face. "Um...is everything okay?" he asked anxiously. She blinked.

"No," she sighed, "but I don't know what to do about it." He sat by her and drummed his left hand on the table.

"So is there anything I can do?" he asked thoughtfully. "I mean I'm not much use at anything but I'm a great listener..." She forced herself to shake her head, though a part of her was screaming to share her woes with him. She knew instinctively that he would never judge her-but he had more than enough problems of his own to deal with...

"No-but thanks for the offer," she sighed. "Hmmm-I'm certain that you've hatched some cunning plan to worm out if this date..." He started, eyes widening innocently.

"Me?" he gasped but he gave a small smile. "As long as you're there to stop me getting arrested, I'll be fine..." Then he leaned closer to her. "But if you are in any trouble or just want to talk-call me. Any time. Literally. I mean, nothing else to do so...yeah..." His smile brought a lump to her threat and almost weakened her resolve but she patted him on the shoulder and rose.

"Time to meet Miss Barf1994," she told him.

"Oh joy. Barf. I really hope that isn't an omen!" he sighed.

oOo

Drago's Bar was the opposite of salubrious: a run down, dark and grimy space that exuded industrial charm...meaning the plaster was falling off, revealing the corroded metal girders of the building. Astrid pulled up in the safest looking parking space she could find, attempting to find somewhere well-lit to leave her precious car. Hiccup peered at the bar.

"I don't suppose it's too late to just go home?" he asked quietly. "I mean, you could debrief me on my cowardice, shout at me a bit and we could have coffee. I'd even order in pizza..."

Astrid paused for a moment. It was clearly a very rough bar and pizza and coffee with Hiccup sounded like a perfect evening...but she reluctantly shook her head. "Wuss," she scolded him half-heartedly. "Get in there! I'm sure you'll have a whale of a time once you go in!"

"Thanks for the pep talk," he managed sarcastically. "You know you sound just like my Dad!"

"Really?"

"Well, not exactly since he was kinda six foot ten and four hundred pounds with flaming red hair and a beard you could lose a yak in and had this huge Scottish brogue thing going on..." he admitted. She gave a small frown and he caught her expression and gulped. "So not exactly like him...more content rather than phonation...or appearance...oh Thor, please don't kill me..." She shook her head with a wry smile.

"I'll be in after five minutes," she told him. "I really can't come in with you at a bar-it would give too much away-so try not to get into trouble, hmm?"

He gave a wary smile and awkwardly got out of the car, straightening his brown leather jacket like a man walking to his own execution.

"Wish me luck!" he said quietly.

"Have fun!" she called and he waved then vanished through the heavy door.

Music was playing, a deep throbbing beat that immediately jarred the base of his skull and a couple of dozen pairs of eyes swung round to inspect the skinny newcomer. They were very rough looking, with tattoos, piercings, leather clothing and the occasional missing limb and eye. All looked unkempt but Hiccup could guess where they came from: Bludvist Construction, the main builders of the new Berk-Meathead Highway and Bridge. Everyone in Berk knew to keep away from the Bludvist Construction workers: they were renowned for being vicious and dangerous. But he drew his shoulders back and marched to the bar where a lanky woman was sitting, her pale blonde hair in three long thick braids. She flicked her grey-blue eyes up to inspect the tall, lean auburn-haired shape and her long face altered into a leer.

"NIghtfury29?" she asked without preamble. He gave a small, self-conscious smile and a little wave.

"Um...I am if you're Barf1994?" he replied. She nodded and patted the barstool next to her which he very warily slid onto.

"C'mere, lover boy," she smirked and he leaned very cautiously on the bar as she grabbed his arm and checked out his muscles. "I'm Raquel but everyone calls me Ruffnut!" His eyebrows rose.

"Um-why?" he asked. "Or am I going to regret the question?"

"Of course you are," she grinned unnervingly and waved to the bartender. "Two Thorston specials!" She grinned at him, her eyes flicking up and down his shape again. "Hmm...me likey! So should I keep calling you lover boy or do you have a name?" He gulped.

"Hiccup," he said and winced as she roared with laughter. "It's a traditional old Viking name..." he began defensively.

"...meaning the runt of the litter!" Ruffnut chuckled. "Gods, were you really a runt when you were younger?" He nodded.

"And when I'm older," he sighed with a small shrug. She gave him a hard nudge that almost knocked him off the stool.

"Damn, you're cute," she said and grinned wildly as the drinks arrived. Hiccup eyed them with trepidation: both were large, long glasses filled with a small fruit cocktail, mint leaves, ice cubes and browny-yellow mixture topped by a pink umbrella. Ruff nodded and gestured for him to try the drink first. With a small prayer to Odin-because he really wasn't a big drinker-he took a long suck on the curly-whirly straw.

And then he choked as the almost unadulterated alcohol hit the back of his throat. Eyes watering, he coughed and blinked, his throat and chest burning.

"What is in there?" he rasped hoarsely.

"Tequila, white rum, dark rum, vodka, gin, angostura bitters, kirsch, cointreau, triple sec and lemonade," Ruffnut said, cheerfully sucking on her straw without any hesitation. She grinned madly and motioned him to take another sip. And another. Somehow, drinking the horrific blend of gut-rotting booze was still better than looking at Ruff, who was eyeing him like the last cake in the baker's shop. "Wanna dance?"

Instinctively he tucked his legs under the stool, his head already starting to swim with the concentrated alcohol. "Um no," he said swiftly. "Can't dance..." She pressed a sloppy kiss on his cheek.

"Me neither!" she leered and grabbed his hand, hauling him off the stool. He ended up on the floor as she dashed to the juke box, tossed in a quarter and stabbed a number. Then she dragged him to his feet and manhandled him into the centre of the bar as the strains of 'YMCA" began to blare out. Hiccup stood rigid, eyes pleading as Ruff grabbed his wrists and bounced up and down, arms flailing insanely. Hiccup swayed, shuffled his feet and moved his arms slightly, feeling hideously self-conscious. Ana told him he couldn't dance, even before the accident-and he knew there was no chance he had improved since the horrific crash and the injuries he had suffered.

And then things got even worse as half the bar got up and joined in the actions for 'YMCA'. Hiccup found himself jostled by huge, scarred, leather-clad construction workers who were very seriously and very committedly doing the YMCA. Ruff bounced up and down, mangling the actions terribly while Hiccup closed his eyes and prayed for it to be over as various large men brushed against him. Ruff draped her arms over his shoulders and grinned to him-just as Astrid walked in through the door. Ruff was grinding vigorously against him as he looked pleadingly at Astrid-but she walked straight to the far end of the bar, took a seat and ordered a soda water.

And then the tune ended and the impromptu dance floor cleared and he cracked an eye open-to see Ruff's face about two inches from his own. Her grey-blue eyes were twinkling wickedly.

"That was epic!" she said and lunged at him, her mouth latching onto his and trying to kiss him. He squeaked, his eyes snapped open desperately and he tried with all his might to push her off him but she was like an octopus. Wrestling manfully, he finally managed to push her away enough to grab a breath and she leered, licking her lips. "Mmm, you're delicious!" she announced and he yelped in embarrassment.

Astrid watched Hiccup bolt for the barstool and grab his drink, desperately downing the lot in the hope it would erase the taste of the girl's very determined kiss and the memory of the dance. A thrill of jealousy had shot through her at the sight of the blonde woman eating his face and she sighed, sipping her soda water. This was the curse of the wingman-watch out for your friend...but watch. And that really didn't sit well when you had fallen for the friend. She sighed heavily and stared glumly at her drink.

Someone settled on the seat next to her, ordered a beer and peered down the bar at Hiccup and his date. "Look at my sister," the man grumbled. "That poor sap doesn't stand a chance." Irritated, Astrid glanced up at a lanky man with long blond dreadlocks, a long face with grey-blue eyes and a very uncanny resemblance to Hiccup's date. She frowned and peered at him. He was wearing an almost identical grey vest top and combat pants to his sister and she frowned.

"Tuff?" she murmured and the man swung his face to look at her, a smile cracking his features.

"Astrid Hofferson?" he exclaimed. "What in Thor's name are you doing here?"