Chapter Three.

"How do I look?" Hiccup asked, retying his tie and trying to smooth down his habitually casually messy hair.

"You look fine," Rachel 'Ruffnut' Thorston told him, her thoughtful grey-blue eyes sweeping his tense shape. Hiccup was tall and skinny, his bright green eyes, sharp jaw and generally kind expression always catching the eye. Dressed in a slim-fit dark brown suit with a leather belt round his narrow waist, a cream shirt and a green and red tie, Hiccup looked professional and incredibly nervous. "Whatcha think, shorty?" Hanna grinned and gave a double thumbs-up.

"You look great, Dad," she said as he looked over at her. Ruffnut had brought her home to reassure the over-anxious father that his daughter was safe before he went out for his interview. Hanna walked over to him and raised her arms and immediately, he scooped her into his arms, feeling her arms wind around this neck and her head bury in his shoulder. He hugged her with a sigh.

"Will you be okay with Auntie Ruff?' he asked her and she nodded.

"She's promised to take me to see Peter Rabbit again and have ice cream," she told him happily. "Will you be okay, Dad? You look kinda unhappy." He pressed a kiss to the top of her head.

"Just a work thing which Uncle Fish is helping me with," he said to her, nuzzling her hair. "You be good-and don't eat too much ice cream, okay?" She gave a small whine.

"Aww...please?" she asked. He sighed.

"Be good and please do what Auntie Ruff asks you to do," he asked her and she nodded.

"Love you," she mumbled as he put her down.

"Love you too, Princess," he told her and straightened up his tie once more.

"Ready?" Fishlegs asked and Hiccup sighed.

"As I ever will be," he confessed as they headed to the door, making sure he waved at his daughter before he clambered into the door and headed for the office. At Fishlegs's advice, he was holding the interviews at Strike Engineering and his secretary, Phlegma Mortensen was frowning as he dashed into the office.

"Where have you been?" she hissed. "They're all here!" She jerked her head at the five disparate shapes sitting on the chairs, all looking self-conscious to varying degrees. Hiccup's emerald eyes widened and he grabbed Fishlegs and hauled him into his office. Phlegma followed him, holding a quintet of buff folders.

"What was I thinking?" Hiccup hissed, pacing back and forth. "I cannot talk to those women there! I mean, what can I say?" Phlegma-a solid women in her fifties with a plain, stern face and brown hair tied back in a braid-scowled at him.

"I have printed out their resumes, highlighted their relevant experience and the doubts you expressed to Mr Ingerman and suggested some questions you could try," she said, handing him the folders, each marked with a candidate's name. Hiccup stared at her-and then hugged her.

"What would I do without you?" he asked her in admiration.

"Honestly? Turn up in the wrong place at the wrong time and hire the wrong woman," Phlegma told him tartly. "I already know which one you should hire but I'll keep my counsel and see if you get it right." And then she marched out. "Call me when you want the first one sent in."

"That is one stern woman," Fishlegs said mildly as Hiccup exhaled and collapsed into his chair.

"You have no idea..." he sighed and gestured to his friend, who pulled up a chair. Fishlegs sat down and stared at the auburn-haired engineer.

"You can't put it off," he reminded his friend. Hiccup nodded.

"Okay," he conceded and phoned through to Phlegma to send the first candidate in. But neither of the two interviewers expected the person who came in. Gothi was about four feet tall with a hump, a squint and she leaned on a stick. The woman made her slow way forward and peered at Hiccup.

"Um...hello...Mrs Gothi..." he began and the woman scowled. "Please, take a seat and tell me about your experience..."

There was a pause and she stared at him then shook her head. Then she reached forward and grabbed a piece of paper and began to scribble a few words.

"I think she doesn't speak," Fishlegs hissed. Hiccup stared at him and then back at her. She gave a wry smile and nodded once.

"So how will you communicate with my daughter?" he asked her. "I mean she's smart but she isn't four yet and she's just about started writing her name and knows her letters but...well, no..." She shrugged then raised her finger and wagged it at Hiccup. then she got down and left the room. The two men shared a look.

"What was that?" Fishlegs asked and Hiccup gave a small smile.

"I think I failed her interview," he told his friend. "And look-she's eighty-eight as well."

"That's not ninety," Fishlegs pointed out. Hiccup grinned.

"Close enough!" Hiccup told him and scribbled a note on her file. Then he peered at the note she had scribbled.

THE CORRECT WOMAN FOR YOU IS OUT THERE. MAKE THE WISE CHOICE. AND SHE WILL LOOK OUT FOR YOU BOTH. Fishlegs peered over his shoulder at the scrawled words and frowned.

"I wonder what that means," he murmured as Hiccup shook his head at the cryptic words and lifted the phone. "Okay, Phlegma-send in the next," he sighed.

The two men tried to compose themselves but both of them stiffened as the next applicant walked in. She was tall, slender and moved with confidence. Her long blonde hair curled around her face and fell in long shimmering waves down her back. Neither man could miss the fact her white blouse was a little too tight around the bust or that the buttons were open to reveal more cleavage than seemed necessary for a childcare interview. And her short skirt left little to the imagination as the women tottered on her scarlet five inch heels to the seat and sat down, her plump blood red lips stretched in an appealing smile.

"Hi," she purred. "I'm Brandy Selvarsson. You must be Hiccup Haddock..." And she fluttered her eyelashes at Hiccup. His eyes widened.

"I-I'm...yes..." he managed clumsily. She leaned forward and stuck her hand out, offering him an excellent view of her cleavage. Automatically, he took her hand and found his gripped in a vice like clutch.

"You have such a strong grip," Brandy told him coquettishly. "And you are so cute..." Fishlegs elbowed him and he blushed, then managed to wrangle his hand free.

"Um...yes...I mean no! NO! Not cute. At all. Widower. Yes. Me, I mean, not you. I..." he gabbled and she laughed.

"You definitely sound like you need looking after and I am clearly the person to do it," she told him easily.

"Actually, the post is to look after my daughter," Hiccup reminded her, staring down at his notes. "What experience do you have?"

She leaned forward, smiling knowingly, her blue eyes half-lidded.

"Cheeky," she admonished him and he blushed fiercely.

"Agh! I mean looking after children. Not...I mean...what did you think I meant?" he demanded and she sighed, sitting back and pouting.

"Well, you are so obviously flirting with me so who can tell?" she told him, her eyebrows raised. Hiccup cleared his throat.

"What? I mean, well?" he managed.

"I've worked as a classroom assistant for a few months and I come from a huge family," she explained. "I always get on well with the little ones." Then she grinned. "We could be like sisters. I'm sure we can have loads of fun..." Hiccup snatched a glance at Fishlegs, who was staring at the girl in shock. Admittedly, he was used to outrageous behaviour from his girlfriend, Ruffnut, but even he could tell that this girl was completely unsuited for the position.

"So how would you look after Hanna between when you took her from Nursery and when I got home for work?" he checked. She shrugged.

"That's what TV is for," she told him with another shrug. Hiccup frowned.

"I don't want my daughter staring at the screen and just vegetating," he told her firmly. "I want her to interact, to play, to use her imagination and learn."

"Precocious...or just spoilt..." she commented and then reached forward, grabbing his hand and peering at it. "You shouldn't frown-it will give you lines. And look at this love line. There's a break...which I think we all know why that's there...but look...there's another love entering your life very soon..." She raised her big blue eyes. "You need someone who will love your daughter and look out for you as well." He hastily snatched his hand back and yelped, glaring at her.

"I am very fine, thank you very much," he said firmly. "Um...well, that is it apart from...do you have any questions?" She fluttered her eyelashes at him once more.

"When do you want me to start and what accommodation will I get? I bet you have a big house and loads of room..." Hiccup glanced down at her resume which was clearly forged and drummed his fingers.

"The position is open now to start as soon as feasible," he said. "Accommodation is a bedroom with lockable door, shared bathroom with Hanna and time off to be negotiated." She smiled.

"When do you want me to start?" she purred.

Never! he thought. But what he actually said was: "I need to finish the interviews before I make my decision and then I will contact the successful candidate." She winked.

"A man who does things by the book," she smirked. "I think I'm going to enjoy working for you..."

"I'll let you know..." Hiccup said warily as she finally rose, tossed her hair and sashayed to the door.

"See you soon, Hiccup," she smiled and let herself out.

There was a thud as Hiccup's head hit the desk.

"Thor, no," he groaned. "Can you imagine it? Hanna would be made up like mini-Barbie and I would find that woman in my bed waiting for me because she thought I needed nannying..." He shuddered.

"Well, you do actually need Nannying..." Fishlegs pointed out and then caught Hiccup's expression. "But maybe not by her."

"Did you see her checking out the office and trying to find out the size of the house?" Hiccup continued. "She would be after my money...except I don't really have any..."

"You do own the business..." his friend pointed out.

"And every penny is sunk in here," he sighed. "One day, maybe I will be better off but for now...if this contract doesn't succeed, I may lose the house..." Fishlegs stilled and stared at him.

"Hiccup?" he asked softly. "Are you okay?" The auburn-haired man shrugged.

"Nowhere near," he sighed.

"Can you even afford this?" Fishlegs checked and he gave a slow nod.

"If Hanna needs this, I will find a way," he promised, sitting up straight. "As long as we can actually find the right Nanny." He called Phlegma. "Send the next one in."

The next candidate, as it turned out, was a woman in her thirties wearing functional dungarees, a white tee-shirt and boots with a brightly coloured scarf tied around her short cropped honey coloured hair. She bustled in, shook their hands and then sat cross-legged on the seat.

"Um...Stella Limbukerquefantalopoulou-Jones?" Hiccup tried. She sighed.

"It's Stella Limbukerquefantalalopoulou-Jones," she corrected him. "Every one misses out the 'la'." He glanced at her resume and gulped.

"I am sorry," he apologised quickly. "Um...I'm Hiccup Haddock and this is Frederick Ingerman my friend."

"Friend friend?" she checked.

"Just friend," he said and then frowned. "Wait-did you just ask...?"

"I just wanted to check that I wasn't making any assumptions since I am completely comfortable with LGBTQI diversity and wouldn't want to offend anyone," she said. Feeling slightly unbalanced, Hiccup glanced at her resume.

"It says here that you have experience looking after children?" he read quickly. "Um...could you expand a bit?"

"I have been hired by a number of families to provide their precious offspring with a good and wholly balanced start to life without the strictures of convention or the false misogynist conventions of the so-called modern societal norms."

"Oh?"

"For example, I do not believe in forcing children into education or nursery when they should be roaming free," she said. "Children should eat what they wish-from a locally sourced vegan menu, of course-and potty training should be allowed to happen as the child wishes without any pressure or shame inflicted upon innocent minds to force compliance with modern convention. I do not force shoes or clothes when the child does not wish and there are no lessons, only gentle exploration of the external environment."

"No clothes?" Hiccup checked. "Um, you do know this is Berk, don't you? An island with such dreadful weather that they not only have Winter, they have an extra season, Devastating Winter, in the middle of Winter? That children are confined inside during blizzards as a matter or public safety?"

"I know better than a male in a locked room what the weather is doing," Stella told him firmly. "And exploration of nature at its most wild is of great benefit to forming minds."

"And possibly freezing ones as well," Hiccup muttered.

"Pardon?" Stella said sharply.

"Um...go on?" he said hurriedly. "What else don't you do? How about play?"

"All natural, using imagination and tales derived from the oral traditional of indigenous peoples," Stella said.

"So...no dolls?" Hiccup checked, imagining the tantrum if anyone tried to take Elsa and Anna off of Hanna. Stella's hazel eyes narrowed.

"I will not support the use of dolls, sold by soulless multinational corporations who promote outdated stereotypical role models and pollute the child's mind with their propaganda and the planet with their plastic waste!" she snapped.

"So...no dolls, no nursery, no meatballs...what about the socialising my daughter has with other children in Nursery? What about her friends?" Hiccup asked. The woman frowned at him.

"The child must learn all attachments are fleeting," she said firmly.

"Oh, I am certain she knows that," he replied more sharply than any tone he had used. "After all, her mother recently died." But instead of looking embarrassed. Stella leaned forward eagerly.

"My goodness-you didn't say the child would need grief counselling," she told him as if he had been starving her. "I can help with a programme of chanting, visualisation, meditation and..."

"And we'll let you know," Hiccup told her. She blinked.

"But I haven't decided whether I consider you an appropriate..."

"Miss Fantalalalalalalalopoulou-Jones, I don't give a thought to what you consider appropriate," he said sternly. "Because I certainly do not consider you to be an appropriate, safe or even sane person to let within a thousand miles of my daughter. You will not be getting the post!" She glared at him.

"It's Ms and that is precisely what I would expect from a controlling misogynistic, conventional, prejudiced, small minded chauvinistic boor!" she snapped. "I can tell you are a wholly unfit father and inappropriate person to..."

"Good day!" Hiccup said firmly and slapped her folder closed. Clambering to her feet, she cast him a dismissive look and stalked out of the door. Hiccup sat back in his seat and shook his head. "No," he said. "Don't even say a word."

"Are you sure?" Fishlegs checked, almost giggling.

"Certain," Hiccup sighed and glanced at the folders. "Three down and two to go. "I just hope one of the others is suitable...because otherwise, I don't know what I can do..."