Turns out, Hiccup's loft is a no-go. And it's not because he's still mad about the grilled cheese accident. Water under the bridge, that one.

Considering the guy's penchant for housing strays, it's not even like Jack's three dogs, one semi-blind senile cat, and a tiny tortoise would pack that much of a crowd either. They would, but things would still be manageable under normal circumstances. The problem is that there have been complications at the animal shelter—something something infiltration, something collapsed roof—that led Hiccup to host an unexpected surplus of four-legged guests at his place.

Hiccup feels bad for the contretemps, which makes Jack feel even worse for asking in the first place, but he and his pet children can't stay there, no matter how much Hiccup assures him otherwise. There is so much Jack can impose on his friends, and weaseling his way into Hiccup's overpopulated humble abode is a line he's certain he should not cross.

Bunny's place is also out of question, ironically in his case, for being under populated.

And with the landlord tapping his wrinkly little foot on the other side of Jack's door, counting the minutes, waiting like a goddamn vulture for his time to be up, Jack's running low on other options. He could always sleep in an alleyway inside a cardboard box with his dogs, cat, and tortoise, but that will most definitely kill his back, and good chiropractors are hard to find these days. So it's with the wellness of his spine in mind that he grudgingly calls North.

Three cups of coffee, one dreadful phone call, a cringey trip down memory lane, and what feels like an eternity later, Jack has a rooftop to sleep under and by the time the weekend comes rolling around, he's all packed and ready to move out.

"Thanks for helping me today, Haddock," he says as he steps out of Hiccup's pickup truck at their destination: Jack's new temporary home sweet home.

"No problem." Hiccup opens the door to let the pets out before making his way to the back to start unloading the trunk. "Nice shack."

"Yeah." Jack shrugs. He looks up at the old red brick building. "Used to be a firehouse, but it got shut down because of a fire. North bought the whole thing for pennies back in the day."

Hiccup whistles, impressed. "Sweet deal. I mean, the fire part? Totally messed up. But, y'know, as a millennial with no prospects of ever owning anything bigger than a storage container, still a pretty sweet deal."

"Mmhmm. North wanted to work on the house himself though. Took him years to restore this place."

"Your uncle is my hero," Hiccup sighs dreamily, his crafty brain trying to take in all the front entrance's details at once. He even smooths his hand over the hand-carved mailbox like a nerd, eliciting a miffed roll of eyes from Jack.

"Shut up."

Jack unlocks the front door with his emergency spare keys and they start bringing his boxes inside.

"Looks pretty clean for a place that's supposedly not been used for months," Hiccup notes, looking around like a mesmerized child stepping into Santa's toy factory.

"I think my uncle has someone coming over to keep the place in order. And to water his plants." He deposits the first box on the floor and is about to go back to the car when his friend's voice pulls him back.

"So no one is living here? You sure about that?"

Jack sighs. "Yes, Hiccup. I'm sure. North himself said the house was free."

"Oh. Cool. And did your uncle ever tell you about any apparitions? Like a fireman's young bride who drowned herself in sorrows after the fire or something?"

"Not that I can remember. And I'm pretty sure there were no casualties in the fire."

"Well, isn't that a relief?"

Jack shifts on his feet to glare at the other guy. "The fuck are you on about?"

Hiccup's eyes are wide, slightly unnerved. He gulps. Slowly, he raises one arm and points at the window facing the backyard.

"Uhm… Then who the hell is that?"

Jack squints his eyes. There is definitely someone out there. And he could easily bet a month of his earnings on them not being the ghost of a dead fireman's bride like Hiccup has just suggested. Nope. That person has a ponytail and is wearing a sports bra, and last time he checked, ghosts had better things to do than work out on his uncle's stupid lawn.

"... What the fuck?"

A quick list of Jack's pets:

Mia, the purebred golden retriever; Trekkie, the lazy bulldog; Edgin, the black great dane monstrosity; Tobey the Cat, and Lord Nicholas, the tortoise. Names are all vaguely connected to Chris Pine.