A/N - The last chapter, the one from Toothless's POV wasn't planned, but I was thinking about this story and it just hit me - but it wasn't the update that I had planned, this chapter is! So you guys get two, one and a half really, but whatever, right? I also planned this to be the first thing that I wrote at my new work station - but the desk that I wanted wasn't in stock so I had to order it. Next weekend though - new desk! I'm excited. I'm also excited about this chapter.

And, before you ask, YES. This chapter was planned the entire time, before I even started this story way back when. I honesty thought we'd get here sooner, but this story ended up being a lot more than I thought. I'm sure a good editor could chop it in half, but who wants that? Anyway, ONWARD!

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Chapter 31: Do You Hear What I Hear?

The fresh-scent taxi interior was a calming shift from the tense apartment. Astrid sat back into the seat as the city whirled by, replaced quickly by the interstate and other racing cars. This cabbie was quiet and listened to his classic rock and let her to her thoughts. She closed her eyes and for a moment, in the secluded shade of her eyelids, everything was perfectly fine in the world. Then she opened them again, and nothing was.

When she was packing that morning, her hands visibly shook. She'd managed to keep them from Hiccup, but that wasn't hard. He'd stayed in the living room, face stuck in his sketchbook or a textbook. She desperately wanted to know what he was thinking. He wouldn't look her in the eye and responded to questions with short, closed-ended answers. He was upset, that much she could tell, but she didn't know how to fix it.

Did he know? She'd told him that she was a stripper. Partly, it was true, but it had been a long while since she'd participated in one of Rachel's scantly back-room performances. What she hadn't told him was about the hotel, about the other men, the few of them there were. Among the other girls she worked with, her number was low, which was not a blow to her pride at all. Some of the girls competed with each other, but Astrid wouldn't partake in that nonsense. She'd rather throw herself off the bridge and into the muddy, unforgiving Mississippi.

She sighed, the stuffy taxi air filled her lungs as the first pit-pat of wet snow hit the windshield. Hiccup had been distant at breakfast.

"Coffee?" Astrid had asked, handing him the cup she'd already made, just the way he liked it, in the Viking mug she'd gotten for him, that she liked to believe he preferred.

"Thanks." Hiccup had taken the mug, but kept his eyes from hers.

Astrid had set down next to him. Toothless was between them, nudging his face into Hiccup's hand, purring, and gazed at Astrid as if he knew she were the problem, as if he knew that it was her fault his master wasn't his normal self. It was eerie and irritating.

The car in front of them slowed, the bright red taillights blared, reflecting off the metallic dream-catcher's beads that hung from the rearview mirror. They switched lanes as the truck pulled off onto the shoulder. The snowfall increased and the view turned gray. She hugged her coat around her, despite the heat blasting through the vents.

St. Louis leered out of the gray snowstorm with all of its lights proudly shining through the dull afternoon, laughing at the weather. The taxi pulled along side the casino, underneath it's pavilion, and Astrid heaved her bag over her shoulder and ducked inside. Even the brief few moments outside had left her cheeks cold. Inside she took just a moment to regain her warmth. She didn't want to be spotted by the concierge or another familiar face. The smell of the café wafted, but she ignored it.

She was sliding her key into the lock when Alvin called her name, booming down the hallway.

"Pigeon,"

"Hi," Astrid turned to say, faking a smile, if there ever was such a thing.

"The weather didn't keep you, I'm glad." Alvin stood proud, arms crossed over his chest.

"Of course not."

"That's good." Alvin nodded. He looked to the floor and then at his shoes, and finally back at her. "Pige, what do you say to a quick dinner before the place opens?"

"Aren't you busy?" Astrid asked as she swung the door to her room open.

"Not enough to not take a moment for you," Alvin grinned.

"Okay," she nodded. The air leaking out from her room was cool. Someone either cranked up the air or turned the unit off all together.

"Good, ten minutes, down stairs."

"Okay, I'll see you in ten." Astrid went inside as he walked back the other way, toward the casino. She tossed her bag onto the bed and marched to the air unit. Sure enough, it was off. She switch it to heat and waited until the air coming out of it was warm enough.

Everything in the room had been cleaned. Her dress was hanging in the closet and her shoes were standing side by side. This time, however, there was a second dress. This one was in dark red, tight and lacey, short, and a decent neckline. Astrid pulled it out of the closet and held it out against herself in front of the mirror. She'd never seen this one before. Was it for another girl? The room service hadn't made that kind of mistake before. Alvin had his own people doing the room service. If they did make that kind of mistake, they didn't get the chance to make them again.

Astrid replaced it and shut the closet doors. She'd ask Alvin when she saw him. She waited out the last of her ten minutes by washing her hands in the bathroom and checking the makeup stash, a waste of time. Then she meandered down to the café where Alvin was already sitting, two coffees on the table. Astrid sat down and he pushed on coffee toward her.

"Shot of espresso, double shot of chocolate." He smiled.

"Thank you," Astrid said, sipping the hot coffee. Why couldn't she make coffee like this?

Astrid took time to order soup, putting off Alvin's stare, and as the waitress left, she felt her heart leap into her throat.

"How are you doing these days?" Alvin asked casually.

"Good."

"Eret tells me you've got a man living with you, is it that boy with the strange name?"

"Hiccup, yes." Astrid looked down at her coffee. The whipped cream was melting.

"How is that going for you?"

"Oh, you know, it is what it is."

"Does that mean it's going alright?"

"Yes, I guess so."

Alvin took a long sip of his coffee and pinched a chunk off of a muffin. He chewed, and the silence tightened a fist on Astrid's throat. When he swallowed, he said, "Your lawyer is back."

The fist squeezed, and she couldn't breath. She coughed and staggered, drowning the fist in coffee and burning it away. "He is?"

"Where do you stand?" Alvin said without confliction.

Astrid tried to form the words, but she couldn't speak. She coughed again, thinking of the last time, of her inability to do anything.

"Listen, Pige, you don't have to it if you don't want to," Alvin said lowly.

She shook her head. "I can't pass up that kind of paycheck. I can't-"

"There's not a price that can be put on a piece of mind, or trust." Alvin interrupted, his gravel-filled voice overpowering hers easily. "If you love that boy of yours, then you shouldn't be selling yourself."

Take aback, Astrid blinked at him. She'd never used the world "fatherly" with Alvin before, but he was the closest thing she had. Right now, she might have considered it if her mind had been working.

Alvin sighed and sipped his coffee. "If it's about money, I can help you out if you're in a tight spot."

"No," Astrid said abruptly. "I don't want to rely on you to pay my bills, I can hold my own."

"I know that." Alvin nodded. "But I won't just give you the money. I'll make you earn it. Just not like this. I can pull some odd jobs here and there, give you more hours at the restaurant. Come to think of it, my garage is a mess."

Astrid couldn't help but smile. He was joking about the garage, of course. He had help to make sure his loft was spotless, just like his casino.

Alvin leaned onto the table. "I don't want you to feel like you have to do this. You don't have to do anything. There's always a choice."

Astrid inhaled the café fumes and held them in, the sugar and syrup infused air soaked into her lungs, into her being, and in a steamed milk glazy moment, everything was fine again.

"No." Astrid shook her head.

Alvin raised a brow.

"I don't want to do this anymore."

He nodded. "Okay. Decision made. I'll give Eret a call and see if he can't scrounge up some more hours for his favorite waitress."

"Thank you," said Astrid. Then she thought of the red dress in her room. "Alvin, there's a second dress in my room, did-"

"Oh, that's for you. It's…more conservative, if in the case you decided against continuing the job." Alvin tipped his coffee toward her. "I didn't pick it out, Eret did."

She laughed. She doubted Eret could dress a manikin to save his life, but she didn't push Alvin's lie. All she said was "Thank you."

Alvin nodded. The conversation drifted through small talk, about new additions to the Rachel's menu he was considering, and if he should add a stage area to the casino for a live show now and then, with some local bands or a piano bar. After her coffee was gone and her soup bowl was empty, it was time to head back upstairs.

She and Alvin parted ways, for the time being, and she half-skipped up the stairs. Her heart was racing and she voted against the elevator. It was too closed in. She felt incredibly light, as if she could jump and float back down. She hadn't realized what a horrible burden had been laying so heavy across her shoulders. The room wasn't cold anymore and she could stand naked in the bathroom while she ran the shower nice and hot. Once clean and dried, Astrid pulled the red dress out of the closet. The material felt light on her skin and the lace was soft, and not itchy at all. Alvin never settled for cheap knockoffs. It was all about quality to him, which suited Astrid just fine.

It fit surprisingly well, a little loose in the chest, but that was fine. It was a problem she'd learned to live with. She studied her reflection as she pulled her hair into a smooth bun. In this dress, she could be going out to a fancy dinner, getting out of a tinted windowed car, or a limo, a man in a fitted suit on her arm, or going down to a evening play at the Fox. The women there were timeless in their fur coats and pearls, like immortal part of the city, forever arriving and leaving from the theater's lobby, a legacy, an image for little blonde girls in pig tails stuck on the sidewalk to live up to.

Astrid joined Alec at the bar. He was rearranging the bottles by predetermined use.

"Someone's all dressed up," Alec said while switching the gin bottles and arranging them by price, highest in front and lowest in the back.

"I'm glad you noticed. Are you starting to see what boys like in girls?" Astrid smirked.

Alec laughed, and winked. "Oh, I know what boys like, I get to hear about it all night. Oh, by the way, you remember that handsome guy with the red tie? I think you were here that night, right?"

"Yeah," Astrid nodded. She remembered him, he sat at the bar off and on all night, shared a few words with Alec, and didn't like it when Astrid refilled his drink instead.

Alec smiled, a little blush came over his cheeks.

"What?" Astrid only assumed what that meant.

"We've been seeing each other since." Alec bit his lower lip. "He's getting his masters degree in history. He wants to teach at the university. Sigh, I've always had a thing for the smart guys. Especially in those tweed jackets."

"The ones with the elbow patches?"

"Oh my god, yes!"

Astrid laughed, "Me too!"

She was thinking about getting one for Hiccup. At the thought of him, something inside of her chest kicked. She'd text him first thing when she got back to the room. Maybe she'd call him. She missed him.

"Oh, and there was some kind of convention or whatever and there are a lot of weirdoes in town. That's what Kim said."

"Kim?"

"Red tie, my new boyfriend."

Astrid smiled. "Right…I like of like Red Tie better. But Kim's fine too."

Their banter petered out as the casino opened and the first thongs of Saturday night wheels came in. Astrid quickly understood about what he meant by 'weirdoes.' There were the usual people, the regulars, but there was an odd number of people who looked out of place in jeans and t-shirts. Typically, that meant their spending was on the light sight and they paled when they bought a drink, but these guys weren't bashful about the seemingly unlimited cash in their pockets.

"Round of tequila for lounge two," Alec said to Astrid who'd just returned with an empty tray. She set it down and took the one he'd just filled. The glasses were a neon pink, and she didn't have time to ask what the hell he put in that tequila.

Astrid headed toward lounge area two, the bigger of the lounges. The group occupying it was the rich t-shirt and jeans crowd. As long as they paid, it didn't matter if they wore their footed pajamas. Astrid was picturing them such wear when she paused, unknowingly at first, at a voice that drifted over the crowd.

"That's what I said! I thought everyone already knew!" the voice laughed, and the group around him laughed to.

That voice…she knew that voice. It was the voice she'd been half-listening for, but never expected to hear. It was a haunt in the back of her mind and there it was, floating on the air like a poisonous fang, cutting through her like an icy wind. At the sound of it, everything around her shattered, her white-knuckled grip on the tray was the only thing keeping the glasses from it. The liquid in them shook, a few spilled a drop that ran down the sides, but Astrid didn't notice. All she could hear was that voice, now a murmur in the crowd.

She searched the crowd for the source. The faces and t-shirts parted and she saw him, a red-headed, animated man. On his neck was a freakish tattoo that spanned the side of his jaw. That was the same tattoo. It was him.

Astrid swallowed and gripped the tray. Calm, she told herself. Don't let him get to you. Maybe it's not him.

What were the odds of that?

She hoped, greatly.

She took a step with the tray, to complete her mission, to deliver the pink shots, when the red haired man looked up and his green eyes locked with hers, and she froze again. His grin faded, his eyes sharpened, and he was confused, but then an angry grimace replaced it. He quickly wiped that emotion away, disturbingly easily, like a hand over a dry-erase board.

"Look! Our drinks have arrived!" said he, standing up and opening his muscular arms toward Astrid.

There was a resounding cheer as she stepped up with the tray, feeling his eyes on the back of her head. She set the tray down on the lounge table. As she backed away to go, a few people handed her tips, however the red haired man put his hand up.

"No, no, boys, I've got this." He withdrew a wallet and pulled out several bills, none of which Astrid looked at as she took them.

She nodded a quick thank you and left them to their drinks, feeling his eyes on her retreating back.

Had he recognized her? The way he'd looked at her certainly told her that he had. She returned to the bar, but ducked into the kitchens without a word. She paused by the shelves to catch her speeding heart. She wasn't prepared for this.

Alvin. She needed to tell Alvin. He would know what to do.

She raced to his office and was glad to find him there, looking over a few papers. At the sight of her in his doorway he paused, wide-eyed and suspicious.

"What happened?"

"Alvin, I saw him!" Astrid came inside and closed his door which was usually propped open. This action erased the suspicion from his face and he sat down in his chair.

"Saw who?"

"Him, that guy, I don't know his name, but…I heard him." Astrid was breathless. Alvin put a hand to his chin and she added, "I know that voice, Alvin. I know it's him."

"Who is him?" Alvin asked, calmly, but slightly irritated.

"The man that killed my parents."

All irritation was wiped from Alvin's face. His hand dropped to his desk and his mouth gapped open, as if to speak, but no words came out. At last, he stood up and pointed a finger at her.

"Stay here. I'll lock the door. Open it for no one." Alvin rushed from the office and she heard it lock as it closed.

Astrid did as he told, and in a wild moment of panic, she scanned the office for possible weapons. There wasn't much, a few pens on the desk, sharp if thrust with enough force, a few knickknacks on the shelves, but nothing that looked lethal. Groaning, she put her head in her hands. She shouldn't be thinking like that, but she had thought of ways to kill that murderer a million times, and here she was, as close to him as she'd ever be, and she was hiding in an office. What a coward. She should march out there and crack his skull open with a bottle of booze. She didn't care if anyone saw. That fucker would be dead, or at least hurt.

Alvin returned, signaled by the key in the door, and he shut it behind him. She noted the two men in the hall, big and burly, with pistols hidden under their jackets.

"Here, I brought this for you." Alvin sat a glass on the table. "From my private stash."

Astrid took a sip. If it were any other time she would admire the rich flavor, the smooth sweetness, but right now it was all she could do to lift the glass from the desk and put it back without dropping it.

"Right now, there's little that I can do." Alvin said.

"What?"

Alvin sighed. He leaned forward on the desk. "Your man out there? His name is Dagur. Nicknamed "Dagur the Deranged" and let me tell you, he earned that name. Savage beast of a man."

"You know who he is? Can't you arrest him or something?"

"No. He's off the gird. Probably doesn't even had finger prints. He's a hired killer, Pige. One of the best." Alvin tapped on the desk. "But, I've got my people looking into him. If we're lucky he won't make it out of the casino."

Astrid swallowed. She knew that should make her feel better. Alvin's "people" would look into it, secretly of course, because most of Alvin's doings were illegal, or barely legal. She was satisfied with knowing Dagur's final minutes would be spent in an alley somewhere, or the back of an unmarked van, or in an abandoned basement, bleeding to death and then being lobbed like a dead fish into the river.

It took a long while for Astrid to return to the floor and when she did, she joined Alec at the bar. He made no comment about her prolonged disappearance and accepted her help. She poured the night away and as the casino closed, she looked at lounge area two, gladly empty, but it made her heart thump regardless.

That night, Astrid returned to her hotel room alone. Sitting on the bed, she dialed for Hiccup. She held the phone to her ear, waiting for his soothing voice on the other end, but it never came. Instead, it rang, and rang, and eventually went to his default voicemail. At the beep, he hesitated.

"Hey, Hiccup, it's me. I was calling to see what you were doing." She paused. Maybe it was the tightness in her chest that loosened the worry and words. "I'm sorry. I know that you're not happy with me. I don't like seeing you upset. I'm sorry I didn't tell you sooner. I didn't…I didn't want you to not like me." Astrid inhaled. What else was there to say? "I'll see you tomorrow, okay? I love you. Bye."

She hung up. Was he looking at his phone as it rang? Would he even listen to a voicemail? Was he listening to it right now? She dropped her phone onto the bed and went to the bathroom to wash the make-up off her face. After towel-drying, she returned to the bedroom and tried Hiccup again. Still nothing. This time, she didn't leave a voicemail.

She tossed the phone on the bed that seemed too large. She kicked off her heels and reached up to the zipper of her dress.

Knock. Knock.

She paused and turned to the door. Her heart hammered, it was unlocked. She took a cautious stepped toward it, silently cursing herself for leaving it unlocked like a fool.

Knock. Knock.

"Who is it?" Astrid asked, trying to sound half-asleep.

"Room service," the voice chimed.

Her heart stopped. She reached for the lock just as the door swung open with enough force to knock her back. She tumbled to the floor just as Dagur stepped inside the room, devilish grin on his face.

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