Title: There Goes My Hero
Notes: Written for an icon drabble game, at the request of MeridyM. Borrowing her original character Mo Dannah with much affection. Inspired by this icon:
Every time she saw him she got the same thrill. Not just the warmth of “There goes my lover” but a feeling she couldn’t name—just, “John’s here, and everything’s okay.”
“What’s that look for?” John Doggett said as he bent to kiss Mo hello.
“Just thinking. I’ve missed you, darlin’,” Mo Dannah said, holding onto his hand as he sat across the table from her.
“We gotta stop meeting like this,” he said with a grin, adding, “Coffee, black,” to the waitress, who nodded and trotted off. His eyes didn’t follow the girl, and that made Mo smile too. He was looking at her instead, with a light that made her feel like the only woman in the world. “I’ve missed you too.”
“So if we’ve got to stop meeting like this, how should we meet?” Mo sipped her water innocently.
“Moving out to Boulder isn’t possible right now,” Doggett said in a serious tone. “And I don’t want to ask you to leave everything behind.”
“Then we’ll just have to keep meeting like this,” Mo answered. Doggett ran his thumb over her knuckles and murmured, “Thanks,” to the waitress as she placed his coffee cup on the table.
They were seated close to the front of the coffee shop, with a view of the cashier’s counter and the front door. A man wearing a trenchcoat came in and lingered at the front, shaking his head whenever one of the staff asked if he wanted to be seated. Mo noticed him, and noticed Doggett noticing him, and noticed too the way Doggett eased towards the edge of his seat and casually unbuttoned his suit jacket.
“John,” she said softly, but a clatter of a waitress dropped a platter of food covered the rest of her words.
The man grabbed the waitress around her neck and held a gun—some kind of big handgun that was bigger than her face—to the girl’s head. “Everybody freeze!” he shouted as a old woman in the next booth gave a thin scream.
Mo’s body tensed as Doggett started to rise. “John, don’t.” He glanced at her and gave a tiny shake of his head, getting to his feet.
“Hey, buddy,” he said in a soothing tone. The man’s gun swung towards Doggett’s head and his arm clenched tighter around the waitress’s neck, and Doggett held up his hands in a gesture of surrender. “Hey,” he said again. “Calm down. Nobody wants to get hurt.”
“Back off!” the man snarled and shoved the waitress to the cash register. “Empty it out!” The waitress, whimpering and trembling, fumbled at the buttons as the man pointed the gun at her head.
Doggett took a deep breath. He said, “Calm down. Calm down, friend. You’re scaring her. Nobody needs to get hurt today.”
“I said back off, muthafucker!” His gun swung back to Doggett and the waitress looked green. Her eyes rolled back and she crumpled onto the counter.
Mo stood before she could think and the would-be robber was nearly beside himself, trying to keep all three of them covered at once. “She’s fainted,” Mo said, surprised at how strong her voice sounded. “She’s hurt.”
“Sit the fuck down!” he shouted and Mo could see a vein begin to pulse in Doggett’s temple.
He said softly, “Watch your language around the ladies, friend.” He had been inching closer to the man, his hands still up, but Mo knew from the posture of his body that he was poised to spring at any moment. “My friend’s in medicine,” Doggett went on, “she can look at the girl and make sure she’s okay. Okay? You’re in charge here. Let us help that girl.”
“Sammy,” one of the other waitresses whispered—the pert blonde who had brought Doggett his coffee.
“Sammy,” Doggett repeated, nodding. “Let us help Sammy.”
The robber thought about it for a second or two, then jerked his gun at Mo. “Fast. And you,” he barked at the blonde, “open that cash register.”
The blonde hurried behind the counter and Mo knelt beside the fainted girl. “It’s okay, honey,” she whispered, stroking her clammy forehead. “You’re fine. You’re in shock. It’s okay.”
The girl whimpered, starting to come around. The blonde was pressing keys but not getting results, and Mo noticed her hand was creeping closer to a panic button beneath the counter—only to jerk away each time the robber stepped close to see what they were doing. The woman who had screamed earlier was now quietly sobbing as her husband patted her awkwardly on the shoulder.
“Shut up!” the robber shouted at her, which made her scream again and then resume sobbing. “What the fuck is taking you so long, bitch?”
“Hey!” Doggett said, no longer calm. “You’re not making this any better, friend!”
He didn’t flinch as the robber leveled the gun between his eyes. “Shut. The. Fuck. Up.”
Doggett exhaled—and then, so quickly Mo was left breathless, grabbed the man’s arm, wrestled the gun from his hand, and broke his elbow with a sickening crack. The man howled: “You broke my arm! You broke my arm, you sick freak!” and the blonde dove for the panic button, pressing and pressing and pressing it.
Mo held the fainted girl in her arms as she watched Doggett hold the gun on the robber, his breath barely changed. He saw her looking at him and gave her a tiny wink. She managed to smile back and went on whispering, “Shh, shh, you’re okay. Everything’s all right now. Don’t be afraid. It’s all right.”
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