Thanks to my beta *botanistlester* for help. She works wonders


Where have all the good men gone

And where are all the gods?

Where's the street-wise Hercules

To fight the rising odds?

Isn't there a white knight upon a fiery steed?

Late at night I toss and I turn and I dream of what I need

I need a hero

I'm holding out for a hero 'til the end of the night

He's gotta be strong

And he's gotta be fast

And he's gotta be fresh from the fight

[Bonnie Tyler, Holding Out For a Hero]

They barely make it on time for Natalie's lesson. Again. He told his sister to hurry up but would she listen to him? Yeah, he thought she would. What a naive brother he is.

"Don't break anything this time," he warns Nat as they come close to Sophia Farwell's house, the lady who teaches playing violin. Nice elderly woman, she is.

"It wasn't my fault. Mrs Farwell told so," she defends herself and Dan shoots her a glance that says 'really?'.

"Only because she's under your charm," he points out.

Nat crosses her arms, a pout on her face already.

"Not my fault she likes me," she mumbles. "Anyway, that vase shouldn't stand on such tiny table!"

Dan rolls his eyes as he rings the doorbell.

"Just be careful."

The elderly lady opens the door seconds later.

"Good morning, Mrs Farwell," he says, as always.

"Hello Dan. Hi, Natalie!" She smiles when his sister chimes 'Hello, Mrs Farwell!' in a joyful tone. "Are you excited to play today?"

"Yes, Mrs. Dan threatened he'd call our lessons off if I didn't read a really long and boring book," she complains, puppy eyes and all.

Dan flushes as he mutters weakly, "It was Biology."

The lady laughs soundly. "I see your brother's got a good hold of your education."

"Well, I don't think I'll need all that knowledge in my life but at least I'm here today."

Dan shoots her a murderous glance. Jesus. The kid won't ever stop saying too many things. He should let Natalie know that Mrs Farwell probably doesn't want to listen to all that.

"Nat-" he's about to tell her off but the lady just laughs once again, as if she's heard the best joke on the planet. His sister so easily makes everybody fall in love with her and Mrs Farwell is no exception.

"Come in, come in." Natalie follows and the lady turns to him, "Do you want to listen to her play, Dan? She's made great progress."

"Won't I be interrupting you?"

Sophia Farwell smiles kindly. "Oh, not at all! She'll be on cloud nine to show you what she's learnt so far," she whispers and open the door wider.

. . : : torn pagebreak : : . .

Dan knows close to nothing about classical music. Zero. But even he must admit that Natalie's play was impressive.

He saw the first fear in his sister's eyes when Mrs Farwell told about her idea. It seemed to scare Natalie to play in front of him. Once she warmed up, though, Dan thought she forgot he was there. Honestly, it seemed like she has forgotten about Mrs Farwell, as well. The whole world didn't exist when the bow danced across the strings and she created a music finer than anything he's ever heard.

Mrs Farwell sent him a smile and that's when he realised he was grinning himself. He couldn't help but feel proud. The kid was like Beethoven. She's been taking lessons only for a year but damn, she obviously knew what to do with the instrument.

The two-hour lesson ended before he felt the time pass.

"Wow," he said as Natalie and he walked back home.

"What? I was bad, wasn't I? I missed like a ton of chords." She scrunched up her nose as if she smelled rotten meat.

"No, you were- it was really good, indeed. Really."

No matter what it takes, Dan will make sure she can attend her lessons. The kid needs them. Not only is she talented, but it clearly helps her unwind from stress. He's never seen her smile so much as in those two hours.

"You're for real?" Natalie asks, raising an eyebrow.

"Yeah, you were incredible," he sees no point in denying.

Natalie watches him, probably determining if he's telling the truth.

"Gee," she says at last. He probably passed her little test. "I want this tattooed on my body. Incredible Natalie," she thinks out loud, "or no. My brother thinks I'm awesome. What suits better?"

"My brother thinks I'm crazy," he teases. Nat narrows her eyes but the happy mood quickly comes back.

"It's too late now," she says, raising her chin up. "I heard you and don't think I'll forget."

She clearly thinks she's won.

Dan will let her. Just this once.

"Incredible Natalie," she mutters from time to time as they walk home.

"Crazy Natalie," he whispers back and gets a full view of her tongue. He laughs.

"Incredible, Danny, incredible," she repeats. She stops in her tracks momentarily and Dan blinks. "Oh. My. God," she says, eyes wide opened and Dan scans their surroundings, searching for danger.

"What?!" he hisses, heart pounding. Jesus, is it police? What did she see?

"Natalie, the new Mozart," she states, dream-like voice and Dan facepalms mentally, his heartbeat slowing down a bit.

"You're insane," he says, angry at her but at the same not able to scold her for being, well, herself.

Natalie shrugs, "Geniuses were often insane, Dan. Stupid? Never. Incredible and insane. But never stupid."

Modesty isn't her strongest trait.

. . : : torn pagebreak : : . .

He's started this and now he's got to deal with the consequences. Natalie has been humming Bonnie Tyler's 'I need a hero' for the whole afternoon. When she stopped, Dan sighed with relief. But his happiness wasn't destined to last long. His sister quickly made up new lyrics for the song and has been singing them for the rest of the day. Now, Dan wishes he could make a hole in his brain because the lyrics go on and on.

I am a hero, I'm playing cello like a hero 'til the end of the night, strong as stone, fast as lightning, always ready to fight. . .

Jesus, he'd scratch his ears out if that helped.

In a minute, he's both humming and cringing as he comes closer to the back entrance, used by delivery and staff. Dan's sure Natalie has used some trick and programmed the song into his brain. Now it won't stop playing for the rest of his shift.

I am a hero, I'm playing cello like a hero 'til the end of the-

"I didn't know I'd find you here!"

Dan turns around at the voice, disoriented. His eyes fall upon a man. He seems familiar-

"It's you," he says, almost spits. He makes neither a move forward or backwards. Frozen to the spot, his fists clench around the ring of keys.

"Hi Dan!" the guy greets cheerfully as he walks up to Dan.

Dan watches his every step with attention. He doesn't trust that nameless guy. The shirt and jeans seem to be designer clothes, very expensive, and it looks as if the owner was on his way to Broadway. Or some catwalk. Anywhere else but here. He fits to this place as much as Dan would in a ballet school.

"How're you doing, Dan?" he asks, voice so cheery that Dan's afraid he'll feel obliged to give him a pat on the shoulder. Dan takes a step back.

"Wow, you're not talkative today, aren't you?"

"I don't know what you're playing but you're not who you said you are," he speaks, sounding unfamiliar to himself. But he's pissed and his voice clearly reflects that.

"Where's that tone come from, Dan?" the guy smiles.

"Who are you?"

"I'm Phil's friend-"

"Bulshit. Who. Are. You," he says, stepping closer, lips pulled in a tight line.

"Phil got my package?"

That throws him off balance. Dan blinks.

"There was nothing inside-"

"I see he did. . ." he says thoughtfully, as if he hadn't heard Dan at all. He lets out a sigh. "Alright, you got me." He raises his hands up, lets out a single laugh. "I may have not told you the truth the other day but I didn't know how else talk to you."

Dan raises an eyebrow.

"Who are you?"

"I'm your friend, Dan. I have something you need and I can give it to you. If you help me."

"Who the fuck are you?" he barks, annoyed. His shift starts in a few minutes and he'll scream if he gets in trouble because of one smartass.

The guy falls silent. His smile turns wide.

"You can call me Jack."

Dan rolls his eyes. He's not stupid to believe any word he says.

"Right. Look, Jack, you're a really intriguing guy. Thank you for the nice chat and, please, don't show up here again because I swear I'll throw you out myself," he says with a smile. As he turns around, it drops.

He takes a few steps.

"Thousand! Thousand pounds," the guy yells.

Funny.

"I know you need it, Dan," he says and something snaps in Dan.

He spins back and answers through gritted teeth,

"You know shit. Leave me alone."

He turns to walk away but the guy grabs his arm. Firmly.

"Don't pretend your life's easy. It's nothing to be ashamed of. We all need money. Two thousands, alright? You want to bargain, then okay. Two thousands," so called Jack says and Dan tries to shake off his grip but he's strong. He stares into the guy's eyes and feels disgust at the greedy look in them.

"Two thousands, Dan. Think. It's a nice number."

"And what? You're gonna give me it from, what, the goodness of your heart?" he asks bitterly, more joking than expecting an answer.

Jack isn't smart enough to understand it, though.

"No, nothing's free, Dan, I think you know it," he says with a smirk. "All you gotta do is not show up at the shoot."

Dan hisses, "What?!"

"Just walk away, Dan. Don't do the shoot. And two thousands is yours."

Who is this guy?

Jack lets him go. Takes a step back, smiling.

"Think about it. Two thousands. For nothing," he says with pressure. "Just- Do nothing, Dan, and you've got extra cash in your pocket. Think it through! It's a fair deal!" he assures as he walks away.

Dan stares after him for a moment, unblinking.

For him, there was nothing to think about. The guy was fucking insane if he believed Dan would agree. No, not insane. He was no genius. Jack, or whichever name truly belonged to him, was simply and utterly stupid.

. . : : torn pagebreak : : . .

Mind steering onto subjects different than drinks, beer and orders, Dan manages to mess up more than on the busiest day.

"That is not tequilla, Dan," Nessie hisses discreetly as he almost pours vodka. "Jesus, however big party you've been to, you're worst than me with a hangover. Give me that," she slips in, nudging him away with her hips. Dan bites on his lip as he stands back and she fixes the drink swiftly and quickly. One, two seconds and done.

When the client walks away with the right drink, she turns to him.

"What was that? Are you awake or sleepwalking?"

"Awake," he mumbles, cheeks flushed. "Just distracted."

Nessie shakes her head, the red curled hair dancing, as well.

"Alright. Ten minutes will be enough for you?" she asks and Dan furrows his brows.

"What?"

"Ten minutes, alright? Just- go sort yourself out and come back with a fresh mind."

"Ness. . ." he drifts off with a pleading voice.

"Now. Go, Dan. If a chick wants to get your number, I'll call you back, don't worry," she jokes.

"Ness, really, it's okay-"

"Don't argue, just go. For the sake of work," she adds but worry breaks through her playful tone.

"Ten minutes," Dan emphasises, fixing his gaze with hers.

She smiles to him and turns to another client as he walks to the staff room. He takes in a breath, then a second and third. And so on. And on.

Truth be told, he wishes for a talk with Phil. The creepy guy was disturbing in a way. The confidence he carries around with as much grace as queen a crown made Dan uneasy. Jack seemed to be sure he'd agree. As if he knew Dan or his situation at least. And these words. . . I know you need it. Who the hell is he? Walk away from the shoot? He'd sooner break a bone and help Phil with the session, limp be damned.

"One of your fans came," Nessa's voice breaks through his thoughts, her head poking through the door. She sends him a small smile. "Feeling better?"

"Yeah. . . Ten minutes is up?"

Nes nods, "Sorry, but it's crazy out here tonight."

"That's okay. It's good now," he assures and follows his friend back to the bar.

Dan messes up more than ten orders.


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