A/N: So fml, internets hated me on Monday. D: So you guys get lucky since I was forced to do basically nothing but write. Lucky you. Also, I only just remembered to post this this morning, so be doubly lucky! Otherwise you wouldn't have gotten it till the weekend.
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Danny could feel himself start to panic, but clamped down on the feeling. That would be the last thing he needed right now.
The gunman pulled Danny into him, and Danny felt his back up against the man's abs. Apparently, the baggy clothes had been worn to hide more than just the gun now pointed at Danny's head.
Danny himself slowly relaxed again. The gunman was yelling for everyone to lie down. They were complying, quickly so as to not anger the man more. When everyone was lying on their stomachs, hands over their heads as they'd been ordered to, the man hissed at Danny, "Now, you're coming with me to find something."
"Damn," Danny murmured under his breath. The gunman had found out too much about him from their conversations. After all the ghost fights he'd lived through, he was going to die at the hands of a normal, human crook. Skulker would be so disappointed.
The gunman pulled Danny closer to the desk, the teller behind it still standing. She'd been too shocked to move. "You," the gunman said to her, "open up the desk."
The teller nervously nodded, then pulled the desk top up, allowing the gunman to move into the back, forcing Danny along with him. The teller let them past, watching their backs move steadily down the rows of vaults and safe-deposit boxes that weren't so safe anymore. She watched the gunman show no mercy on the boy when he stumbled. She listened as they spoke.
"Alright, kid," the gunman said, "start looking."
"For what?" Danny snarled. "A key? All these boxes are locked electronically. A key won't help, and I can't find something inside a locked box."
The gunman growled at him, throwing Danny to the ground and turning to the teller. Danny hit the corner of the boxes with his head, and he had to blink stars out of his eyes as the gunman roughly grabbed the teller's arm and dragged her over. "She can open them! She has the combinations to the boxes, or she can find them if she doesn't. You two start looking!"
Danny stood shakily in time to catch the teller when the gunman threw her at him. She held tightly to his arms, shaking in fear. The gunman turned from them to make sure his hostages were secure.
The teller coughed. Danny turned to her, taking in her black, chin-length hair and shockingly violet eyes. "A—Are you okay?" he asked, out of breath.
"I'm good." She sounded surprisingly fine. Danny noticed then that she was right around his age, making her sixteen/seventeen. "What got you into this mess?"
"Heh, ran into the gunman outside. Didn't know then that he was carrying. And I unfortunately let it slip that I'm pretty good at finding stuff."
"Doesn't help when he hasn't told you what to find."
"Too true." He gave her a hand. "I'm Danny—Danny Fenton."
"I know," she replied, smirking. "You're Dash's number one target." At Danny's surprised look, she added, "My locker's just down the hall from you. It's hard to miss someone being stuffed into their own locker each and every day." She took his hand. "Sam Manson. Not Samantha."
"Oh, the Save-the-Frogs Goth girl! Loved the panic you caused by letting loose—er, excuse me, liberating—the lab mice. Especially when Paulina nearly fainted."
"Ah, yes, nothing beats the classics." They laughed.
"You two keep looking!" the gunman screamed.
"For what?" Danny hollered back, moving slightly in front of Sam. She sent a worried look at his back.
"What else? Cash and jewelry. The more expensive, the better!" The gunman ignored them again.
Danny turned back to Sam. "This place has a silent alarm, right?"
"Yeah…?"
"Where?"
"Next to each desk, why?"
"One of us needs to sneak over there and trip it."
"Way ahead of you." She grinned. "I tripped it when I opened up the desk."
His eyebrows jumped up together. "Niiice."
"I try."
"You succeed."
"If I knew you were this good for my ego, I woulda started talking to you years ago!"
"Eh, I try not to bring attention to myself."
"Didn't work so well here, though, did it?"
"Not at all. Well, since we'll be charged as accessories anyway, why not open up some of these boxes?"
"Just tell me which ones."
Danny turned to look around at them, allowing his eyes to flash green when Sam wouldn't see. Now using the ghostly version of X-ray vision, he pointed out several boxes. "That one, this one, and there."
She nodded, moving to open up the three boxes he'd picked. Inside the first were some money, a few pictures, and some metal pieces. The second held a single photo, and the third a gun. Sam stared in confusion as Danny grabbed a hundred dollars from the first, cursed at the second, and pulled the gun from the third. She watched as he stuffed the money into a pocket and silently checked the gun for bullets. "What are you doing?" she hissed.
"These are my mom, sister, and dad's boxes. Mom said get a hundred, so I did. Jazz normally keeps her diary in here, but apparently it's at home. This is the only place Dad trusts to leave his gun. I might need it later, if worse comes to worst. Jazz and I both know how to fire a gun, ecto-modified or not." He put the gun back together and slid it inside one of his patch pockets. "Never been more glad for deep pockets." Then he noticed her face. "What?"
"…We're in a hostage situation, and you tried to get your sister's diary?"
He shrugged. "I'm a little brother. It's my job to make her life miserable, regardless of my own situation at the time."
"…I'm so glad I'm an only child…."
"Let's get back to it."
They continued as they'd been, Danny pointing out boxes and Sam unlocking them. Soon, a small pile of jewels and cash was lying at their feet. Sam was finding it very strange that Danny only took a tiny bit of treasure from each of the more wealthy bankers' boxes. Even more intriguing was how he knew which ones wouldn't miss the loot.
The robber came back to check on them just as a siren echoed outside. Gray eyes glared down at Sam. "You bitch! You pulled the alarm!" He raised the gun, ready to hit her, but Danny jumped in the way.
"She didn't! I did! Besides, she's the only one who can unlock the boxes!"
The man scowled before striking Danny with the butt of his gun. He spun back to Sam, snarling, "You're damn lucky I need you two. But one more stunt like this and your little protector is gonna get a bullet in his brain!" He leaned into her face. "Got it?"
"Y—Yes," she gasped.
He leaned away. "Good." He turned and left, pacing in the main room.
Sam looked back at Danny, shocked. He was tense, hair in face, casting it into harsh shadows. A bruise was already forming over and to the side of his left eye where the gun hit him. A trickle of blood oozed down from his hairline.
"D—Danny?" she gasped.
Suddenly, the harsh image was gone. He relaxed, head up and out of the shadows. The bruise didn't seem as dark, and the cut was tiny. "S—Sorry," he mumbled. "I just… remembered someone else who—who called me that."
"W—Well, c'mon, we should get back to, ah, 'work'."
He chuckled, completely clearing the previous image from her thoughts. "Alright, let's go."
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It was hardly even ten minutes later when the robber called them over. Cautiously, they went.
He stood by a phone, obviously about to make negotiations. One hand hung limp by the phone, the other balled up tight. His face, too, was twisted in anger. When he saw the two teens, he yelled, "You, Protector."
Danny bristled but nodded.
"What else're you good at? Besides finding stuff?"
"Getting on my parents and sister's nerves?" Danny shrugged.
The man scowled. "Mine, too. I need an escape route, though. Anything there you can help me with?"
"I've got my learner's permit."
"I don't needa crash. Anything else?"
Danny bit his lip. "I, uh, know how to…fly."
"What? What can you fly?"
"Just about everything, thanks to online NASA stuff. Except rockets. Can't fly a rocket."
"What about a chopper?"
"Um, sure?"
"Good. How many hostages for a chopper…?"
Danny glanced around. There were two little kids, ten adults, five elderly people, and three other tellers, besides Sam and himself. "Probably seven or more."
The man glared at him. "How ya figure that?"
"W—Well, the police'll want kids and the elderly first. That's seven there, not including the two of us."
He thought for a minute, then nodded. "Seven for a chopper. I'll still need you two."
One of the kids took that moment to ask his mother loudly, "Whenna I get food?"
His mother hushed him quickly, blushing, as the robber turned to scowl at them. Danny jumped in the way.
"I—It's a good point, really. We're all probably hungry. Two more hostages for a pizza?"
The man's stomach answered the question. "Fine. But nothing else." He finally picked up the phone and walked towards the door, pulling Danny along with him as a human shield in case the police shot at him. Once in front of the glass doors and windows, he waved the phone at the surrounding police. They quickly dialed.
The ring echoed through the room before the man picked up the phone. "Here's my demands. First, I want some pizza. A lot, so I can share, right? Next, I want a helicopter and a safe escape. I'll give you nine hostages for that."
Danny was close enough to hear the police chief's response. "Children and elderly first."
"Of course. Except for my two helpers, you'll get your children and elderly. Oh, and to make sure my demands are met, I'll shoot someone for every thirty minutes you make me wait. Clock's ticking."
A loud thud echoed as he slammed the phone back onto the receiver.
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A/N: Yes, Danny's hero complex WILL be a MAJOR problem later. ^^ You'll see. Read and Review, PLEASE!