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“What the hell?” Daniel asked, when Johnny staggered into their apartment. “Why are you wearing that?”
“I got a new job,” Johnny replied, as he flopped down onto the couch, his fake belly wobbling inside his plush red velvet suit.
“You're Santa?” Daniel asked.
“Yeah, at the West Valley mall,” Johnny replied, as he dragged down his fake white beard, then pulled a small whiskey bottle out of the large pocket of his red jacket.
“But-but-but... you got charged with assaulting a minor a couple of years ago,” Daniel said, holding up a hand. “Please tell me you didn't lie about that on your application.”
“No, I told them,” Johnny relied, as he pushed the white pompom of his red hat out of his face.
“And they still gave you the job?”
“Yeah, they said I was the only one who applied who didn't have pervert vibes,” Johnny said.
Daniel's eyebrows shot up, then he asked, “Pervert vibes?”
“Yeah,” Johnny said. “Apparently last year's Santa is still banned from being around kids for enjoying his job a little too much, if you get what I mean.”
“Holy shit,” Daniel said, as he slumped down onto the couch.
Johnny leaned over and held out the Whiskey bottle. “Yeah, I know. It's crazy right?”
Daniel took the bottle and took a long drink from it, then asked, “So they gave you the job, even though you beat up a kid?”
“Because of it,” Johnny said, as Daniel took another drink from the Whiskey bottle. “They said if I hated kids that much, they probably wouldn't catch me jerking off in a stock cupboard, like the last Santa.”
Daniel coughed, spraying alcohol across the room.
Being Santa was not fun.
When Johnny applied for the job he thought it'd be an easy month of sitting on his ass, handing out presents and posing for photos.
Instead it was seven days a week, 8 hour shifts of kids ramming their knees into his balls as they eagerly jumped onto his lap.
It was hours of dealing with entitled brats and their parents who were never happy with the photo, and demanded it be taken again, over and over until they had the perfect Christmas picture for their Facebook.
It was hours of having snot nosed kids coughing and sneezing all over him, dragging his fake beard down with their sticky fingers, and babies screaming as they pissed their diaper with terror at being handed to a stranger.
On the third day Johnny woke up with a headache and a sore throat.
“Those diseased little bastards,” Johnny said, as he tried to draw in a breath through his nose and failed.
He sat with his head in his hands, dreading having to pull on the oversized red velvet pants. He was pretty sure they were the same pants the pervert Santa had worn the year before. There was a stain in the crotch that Johnny tried not to think about every time he slipped them on.
The money was good though and Johnny couldn't afford to miss a day.
He wanted to buy Robby a car for Christmas, and even though Daniel had offered to give Robby a car from the trade in lot, Johnny didn't want that. He was tired of taking money from Daniel.
When they first got together Daniel was always taking Johnny out for food or drinks. They never went anywhere fancy, but the cost of burgers, pizzas and beers soon added up, and Daniel always took the bill before Johnny could even get a look at it.
When they moved into an apartment together, Johnny was starting to feel like Daniel was his sugar daddy rather than his partner, and they had their first serious argument when Johnny discovered what the real monthly rent was.
Daniel had lied to him and told him it was far lower than it actually was, so Johnny would have to pay less.
“Why did you lie to me?” Johnny shouted. “I don't want your money, LaRusso!”
“Because I didn't want a live in a shithole, Johnny!” Daniel shouted back. “If we got somewhere you could actually afford half the rent on it'd probably be infested with cockroaches!”
Johnny grabbed his keys, and walked out the door with Daniel's apology ringing in his ears. He went to a bar, and got trashed, then started a fight. He woke up in the hospital with a bad concussion, two cracked ribs, and Daniel crying by his bedside, blaming himself for what had happened.
He couldn't keep doing it. He couldn't keep letting Daniel spend all his money on him. He'd begrudgingly agreed to stay in the apartment, with Daniel paying most of the rent, but the car was different.
He was going to pay for it himself, without any help, so he had to keep going to work, no matter how sick he felt, and no matter how much he hated it.
He let out a sigh as he sat on the edge of the bed, then started pulling on the stained Santa suit.
“Ho ho ho!” Johnny said loudly, in the stupid fake Santa voice that made his throat sore at the end of every day. “Merry Christmas!”
“Santa!” the little girl screamed as she ran towards him and dived onto his knee.
Johnny grimaced under his endlessly itchy fake beard. His head was pounding, and one of the security guards had caught a smell of the Whiskey on his breath when he came back after lunch and jokingly threatened to tell management if he caught him drinking on the job again. He knew Carl wouldn't really tell anyone, but he couldn't take the chance that he might lose out on that final pay check.
The constant shrieks of the children was making his headache worse, but this was it. It was finally Christmas Eve and his last day on the job.
In the month he'd worked at the mall he'd had two days where he didn't feel sick. He was living in a constant state of cold infected hell. Every day he was sneezed and coughed on. The colds had turned into a chest infection in the third week, and he'd been on antibiotics ever since to try to clear it up.
“What do you want for Christmas, little one?” Johnny said, as he booped the girl on the end of her snot encrusted nose, thankful that he was wearing red gloves with white faux fur trim, to help keep the germs at bay.
“I want a pony!” she shrieked.
Johnny glanced up at her parents, who were beaming down at her with pride, as she carried on listing expensive gifts that would cost a full week of Johnny's pay each.
Robby hadn't asked Johnny for an expensive present.
When Johnny had asked him what he wanted, Robby shrugged, and said, “Anything would be nice.”
The reply had cut Johnny to the bone.
Anything would be nice.
Anything, as opposed to the nothing that Johnny had usually given him.
All those years Johnny hadn't been there. All the years he'd been too drunk to remember to buy Robby a gift, and now the poor kid seemed like he'd be grateful if Johnny got him a stick of gum.
Daniel tried to persuade Johnny that he'd taken what Robby said the wrong way. Robby hadn't been upset about all the previous missed Christmases. That he wasn't trying to remind Johnny that he'd never been there, but Johnny didn't believe him.
This year was going to be different. This year Robby was getting a car, and a nice one too.
Johnny would take a full month of chest infections and being screamed at by toddlers if it meant he could finally give Robby a Christmas to remember.
“And have you been a good girl?” Johnny asked.
“I've been very good!” she shrieked.
“Yes, you have!” Johnny replied with fake cheer in his voice. “Your name is on my nice list this year!”
The girl let out a squeal that made Johnny grimace under his white beard.
He couldn't wait to get home.
The way Daniel had taken care of him through the last few weeks had reminded him of all the reasons why he fell in love with him in the first place.
When they first got together Johnny realised that in some ways he'd always been in love with Daniel, since the first moment he met him on that beach.
After his long day at the mall Daniel would have a home cooked meal waiting for him on the table when he got home, then he'd help Johnny into a hot shower and wash his hair for him when he was too tired to even raise his own arms.
Daniel would rub Johnny's aching chest muscles when he was exhausted from coughing and make him menthol steams when his nose was so stuffed he couldn't breathe.
Daniel would bring him Whiskey with a spoon of his expensive Manuka honey and a dash of lemon juice stirred into it when his throat was sore, then he'd lay down in bed behind him and wrap himself around Johnny's aching body to keep him warm.
Daniel took care of him in a way no one has since his mother died. He took care of him in a way that he'd ached for for so long, and Johnny couldn't wait to get back to him tonight.
He was going to finish his shift, grab his pay check, then take it to the bank to cash it so he could give the last of the money to Daniel as soon as he got home. He was going to finish the bottle of Whiskey that was still in his oversized pocket, then he was going to curl up in bed, his arms wrapped tight around Daniel, and sleep until Christmas Day.
He just had to get through these final few kids and then it'd be over.
“Santa has a special gift for you,” Johnny said, as he reached into the brown sack that sat by his chair.
“YOU DO?!” The girl shrieked. “Is it a PONY?!?”
Johnny grabbed one of the pink girl gifts and pulled it from the sack.
The girl snatched the small parcel out of his hand before he could give it to her, and started pulling at the colourful ribbon that held the tissue thin wrapping paper together.
“Not yet, little one,” Johnny said, holding his hand over hers. “You take that present home and put it under your tree, so you'll have a special gift from Santa to open.”
Johnny had learned this lesson on day one. Never let the kid open the present straight away.
The first kid who'd opened his gift had thrown it in Johnny's face, as he shouted, “What the hell is this junk? I asked for a PS5!”
“Thanks, Santa!” The girl screeched, then she sneezed in Johnny's face.
Johnny wiped his face, knowing the gift he was getting this Christmas was a dose of every kid germ in the Valley.
“Hold it up, honey,” the kid's mother said, as she pulled out her phone. “Smile for the camera.”
Johnny sat up, trying to look like he didn't feel like he was about to die from the sheer weight of the crud that was currently making a home in his sinuses. He wrapped his arm around the girl, making sure she was sitting comfortably, then said, “Say Reindeer!”
The girl let out a giggle as her parents took the picture, then she hopped off Johnny's knee, to go look at the photo on the phone.
As the girl walked away with her parents, holding her gift proudly, Johnny murmured, “Enjoy your two dollar imported crap, kid.”
It was finally over. The mall was closing at 4pm, but Johnny was finished at 3, so the staff would have time to clear away the grotto before the sales started after Christmas day.
Johnny trudged up to the payroll office and collected his paycheck, then bumped into Janice, the mall manager in the hallway.
“Lawrence,” she said. “Good job this year. The kids liked you, and the only complaint I got was that you smelled like alcohol.”
“Oh,” Johnny said. “I've had a cold. It was probably the cough medicine they could smell.”
“I don't give a shit about that,” she said with a smile. “I'm just relieved that I don't have to spend this Christmas eve giving a statement to the police.”
Johnny let out a snort of laughter. “Yeah.”
“Anyway, leave the suit in my office, and I'll give you a call next year to see if you're available before I advertise.”
“Cool, cool, yeah,” Johnny said. “But... uh... I didn't bring a change of clothes. I drove here in the suit.”
Janice rolled her eyes. “Go home in it, but make sure you bring it back after the holidays.”
“Thanks, boss,” Johnny said. “Have a good Christmas.”
“Yeah, you too,” she said. “Go on, go get some rest. You look like death warmed up.”
“Yeah, I feel it too,” Johnny replied. “Those kids are riddled with germs.”
“Two years ago the Santa I hired was 80 years old. He caught a cold on the job, which turned into Pneumonia and he died a few weeks later,” Janice said. “That's why I prefer a younger person for the job now. I have to live with the fact that I killed Santa.”
Johnny let out a laugh, then said, “I better go before the bank closes.”
“See you next year, Johnny,” Janice said with a smile.
“Bye,” Johnny replied, as he headed towards the door. “I'll drop the suit in next week.”
Johnny pulled the bottle of Whiskey from his pocket as he walked through the mall, and raised it to his lips, taking a series of of long gulps.
“You drinking on the job again, Lawrence?” the Security guard asked with smile.
“Off the clock now, Carl,” Johnny replied with a grin. “There's nothing you can do.”
The guard let out a laugh, then said, “You know this whole mall is an alcohol free zone, right? I could kick your ass out for having an open container.”
Johnny raised the bottle and took another long drink, then pulled his hat forward on his head. “You're gonna kick Santa out of the mall on Christmas Eve with all the kids watching? Bet the footage everyone recorded would make the news.”
The guard laughed again, then said, “Have a good Christmas, Johnny.”
“Yeah, you too, man,” Johnny said. “See you next year.”
Johnny's phone started ringing, and he pulled it out of his pocket, seeing Daniel's name on the screen.
“Hey, man,” Johnny said, as he answered the phone.
“Hey. I just called to let you know the car's ready,” Daniel said. “I parked it out back. We can move it round in the morning, after Robby gets here.”
“Awesome,” Johnny said. “Thanks, man.”
“Do you know how long you'll be?” Daniel asked. “I'm cooking dinner and I want to make sure it's ready for when you get back.”
“I shouldn't be long,” Johnny said, as he raised the bottle of Whiskey to his lips again. He took a drink, then said, “I'm just heading to the bank in the mall. I need to cash this last check then I'll have all the money for you.”
“You don't have to do that tonight,” Daniel sighed. “I know you're good for the money, Johnny. I can't even deposit it till after the holidays, so there's no rush.”
“No,” Johnny said. “I told you. I'm buying Robby the car. I can't give it to him if I haven't paid for it in full. It wouldn't be real.”
“OK,” Daniel sighed. “I know it's important to you.”
“It is, yeah,” Johnny said. “What are you making for dinner?”
“Beef and ale casserole, followed by Apple pie with Cinnamon cooked from scratch,” Daniel said. “You need something warm and comforting to help you feel better.”
“That sounds good,” Johnny said with a smile. He could practically feel Daniel's love from the other end of the line. Daniel always poured his heart into his cooking.
“I'm wearing something special for you too,” Daniel said.
Johnny stopped in his tracks, one hand on the door to the bank. “Oh yeah? What are you wearing?”
“It's a surprise,” Daniel said. “I wanted our first Christmas together to be something to remember.”
Johnny let out a snort of laughter. “I can't wait.”
“Yeah, well drive home safely,” Daniel said. “I'll be here waiting, when you get back.”
“I'll see you soon,” Johnny replied with a smile.
“Bye, Johnny,” Daniel said, then he hung up the phone.
Johnny tucked his phone away, and opened the door to the bank. He stepped inside the large vestibule, and paused. He took a final drink from his bottle of Whiskey, then screwed the cap back on and slipped it into his jacket pocket.
The bank had gone overboard with decorations this year.
In the lobby it had a huge Christmas tree, decked in multitudes of baubles and tinsel. Beside it stood a full sized sleigh pulled by fake reindeer, so all the customers and their kids could climb in and take a magical Christmas photo in front of the tasteful seasonal background, that had the bank's logo featured prominently.
Johnny walked down the corridor and was about to step into the main area of the bank when he heard a woman scream, and a man shouted, “No one move! This is a robbery!”
There was the sound of a gun fire, and screams came from the other room.
“Oh fuck,” Johnny whispered to himself, as he pulled out his phone.
He had to get out of there. He had to call the cops.
“You, go lock the front the door. Shoot anyone you see,” the man said.
There was the sound of approaching footsteps and Johnny turned to look around himself.
He'd never make it of the front door in time and there were no exits off the corridor he was in.
Johnny shoved his phone back in his pocket, pulled his fake beard up onto his face, then jumped into the sleigh and took hold of the reins.
The robbers emerged into the corridor, both holding machine guns, and they headed towards the doors to the mall, with a bunch of keys jingling in their hands. They locked the door, then turned back, walking down the corridor.
Johnny stayed still, barely breathing, his eyes fixed ahead of him, hoping they'd ignore him if the thought he was part of the Christmas display.
As they drew alongside him, the footsteps stopped, and Johnny held his breath.
“That Santa is disturbingly real,” one of the men said.
“Just shows how much money these rich banker assholes have to waste if they can afford a lifelike waxwork Santa,” the other replied.
“It's creepy as fuck.”
“More money than sense,” one of them sighed.
“Hopefully at the end of today we'll be the ones with more money than sense,” the other laughed.
“Yeah, come on. Let's get back inside or we don't get paid.”
The men started to move off, and as their footsteps faded away, Johnny finally allowed himself to draw breath.
His chest started tickling the moment the air entered his lungs.
Oh fuck! Johnny thought.
He was going to cough.
He took a series of tiny breaths, trying to calm his irritated lungs that currently felt like they were trying to crawl up his throat. The feeling started to subside, and Johnny breathed a quiet sigh of relief.
The exhalation moved the long strands of the white beard up, tickling his nose, and Johnny sneezed loudly.
The men stopped and turned.
“What the fuck was that?!?” one of them asked, as they raised their guns.
They moved down the hall, and Johnny stayed as still as he could as they stalked towards him.
As they drew close Johnny knew he had no choice. They'd figure out where the sound came from soon enough.
As one of the men approached the sleigh, Johnny let out a cry and launched himself towards the closest thief. He tackled him to the ground, then punched him unconscious with one blow.
The remaining thief stood in the corridor, a look of surprise on his face, as Johnny stood.
Johnny took advantage of his shock, launching himself in a flying tornado kick, his foot striking out and hitting the thief in the face, sending him flying backwards into the enormous decorated tree.
The machine gun skittered across the floor, landing at Johnny's feet. He bent down and picked it up, looking at the weapon in his hands, then he heard a voice come from the other room.
“What the fuck was that?” a man asked, and Johnny knew he needed to run before someone came to investigate.
He sprinted down the hall, further into the bank, and to his relief there was a staircase at the end of the corridor. He ran up the stairs, and into the offices, hiding behind a set of lockers where the staff left their personal belongings.
Johnny's heart was pounding in his chest.
The bank was being robbed. He had no idea how many raiders there was, but from the screams he'd heard from the main hall, he knew there were hostages, with women and children among them.
He looked down at the machine gun in his hands. He'd never seen anything like it in real life. He'd shot a handgun at a range before. He'd even shot a rifle in the woods that Dutch had brought on a road trip when they were younger, but this was different.
“Holy shit! I have a machine gun,” Johnny breathed, as he looked down at the weapon. “I'm John McClane!”
Johnny's phone started to ring in his pocket. He quickly grabbed it, answering it to stop the music it was playing, and held it to his ear.
“Johnny,” Daniel said, his voice sounding desperate, even though he'd only said a single word.
“Hey, man,” Johnny whispered in reply, as he kept his eye on the door.
“Please tell me you're stuck in traffic,” Daniel said. “Please tell me you're not still in the mall.”
Johnny took a breath, knowing he was about to break Daniel's heart, then he said, “I'm still in the mall.”
“Oh my god,” Daniel whispered. “One of the kids sent me a message saying they just heard there's a shooter in there!”
“It's not a shooter, Daniel,” Johnny replied. “It's a bank robbery.”
“You need to get out of there, right now!” Daniel pleaded.
Johnny paused a second, then said, “I can't do that, Daniel. They have kids held hostage.”
“This isn't a movie, Johnny,” Daniel hissed down the phone. “You're not in Die Hard! You're not John McClane!”
“Oh, yeah?” Johnny asked. “So why do I have a machine gun?”
“You have a WHAT?” Daniel gasped.
“I've already taken down two of the bank robbers,” Johnny said. “That's how I got the gun.”
“Johnny, please!” Daniel said again. “Don't do anything stupid. Just find a safe place and stay there. The police will be on their way to the mall already. Let them handle it!”
There was a noise as the door handle turned.
“Someone's coming,” Johnny whispered.
Johnny could hear Daniel's ragged breathing and tears from the other end of the line, as the door into the office opened slowly.
“I love you,” Johnny whispered. “I gotta go.”
A man quietly edged into the room, turning around to look into the corner at his side, then he headed to his left, away from Johnny.
Johnny crept out of his hiding place, moving over towards the door. He gently closed it, then raised the gun.
“Hey, asshole,” Johnny said.
The man turned, and a look of terror crossed his face as he saw Johnny.
Johnny pressed his finger to the trigger and squeezed, and the gun let out a quiet click.
Johnny's eyes went wide as he looked down at the gun in his hands, and the man opposite him grinned.
Johnny lashed out, throwing the useless machine gun into the man's face.
The thief let out a cry as the gun hit him above the eye, knocking him backwards, and Johnny powered forward, unleashing a roundhouse kick into the man's ribs.
The guy went down with a screech, as if he'd never been in a fight before, so Johnny jumped on top of him, and pounded his fists into the guy's face until he slumped backwards, his head lolling to one side.
“How many of you are there?” Johnny growled, as he pulled the man up by his shirt collar.
“Please, no more!” the man begged.
“How many more of you are there?!” Johnny asked again.
“Two more,” the man said, tears rolling down his face.
“Are you crying?” Johnny asked. “What kind of bank robber cries after being punched a few times?”
“I'm not a bank robber,” the man sobbed. “I'm an actor!”
“What the hell?” Johnny asked, looking down at the bleeding man in confusion. “Are you filming a TV show or something?”
“No, we're robbing the bank for real,” he replied through his broken teeth. “But the guy in charge only had one working gun when he hired us.”
“So the bank robbery is real, but there's only one real bank robber?” Johnny asked.
The man nodded. “He hired us because we looked tough and people would be scared. I played a mob enforcer in an episode of NCIS: Los Angeles, and he thought I looked the part.”
“You're not tough though, are you?” Johnny growled, as he raised his fist.
The man cowered back and said, “No, I walk dogs as a side gig. Poodles, Labradoodles and Shih-tzu's mostly, but times are hard, man. I needed the money, and by the time I realised this wasn't a real acting gig it was too late!”
“Times are hard?” Johnny asked, as he shook the man by the handfuls of shirt that were twisted in his fists. “You think I don't know that? You think I liked being a mall Santa and spending December getting kicked in the nuts and sneezed on by kids?”
“I'm sure you did a great job,” the man sobbed. “Please don't hurt me again! C'mon, man. It's Christmas!”
“Yeah, well sleep in heavenly peace, asshole,” Johnny said, then he drew back is fist and slammed it into the guy's face, knocking him unconscious.
Johnny stood, looking down at the bank robber who was laid on the floor. He should find something to tie him up.
He turned, and came face to face with another man who had crept through the door.
Before Johnny could move, the guy smashed the butt of the machine gun into his temple, and everything went black.
When Johnny woke his head was pounding. He blinked his eyes open, wincing at the bright lights of the bank main hall, then realised he couldn't move.
He looked down at his hands, and saw rope wrapped round his wrists, tying him to the arms of a wooden chair. He pulled at it, but the knots didn't give.
“You're wasting your time,” a voice said from behind him. The man moved round until he was face to face with Johnny. It was the guy from upstairs, who had slammed the gun into his head. “I made sure those knots were good and tight. You aren't going anywhere.”
“You better run while you've got time,” Johnny said, still pulling at his arms. “The cops know you're here and they'll be here any minute.”
The man laughed and looked around at his bloodied hired henchmen. “It took these losers twenty minutes to get you down the stairs and into that chair. They've been outside for a long time. They aren't coming in. They won't risk it with all these hostages on Christmas eve.”
Johnny looked around himself, seeing families with children, cowering on the floor. The children were crying, wiping their eyes as they watched, and Johnny recognised many of them from the last few hours at the grotto.
“Hey, come on, man. There's kids here,” Johnny said quietly. “Most of them just had photos took with me. They don't know I'm not the real Santa.”
“Did you hear that, kids?” the man said, standing up and turning. “Santa isn't real!”
The children gasped, and a girl started sobbing, wrapping her arms around her mom.
“No, no!” Johnny said, turning in his chair. “Santa is real! Don't listen to this guy. He's on the naughty list.”
The man let out a laugh, then moved forward, placing his hands on top of Johnny's bound wrists, leaning closer.
“Who are you?” the man asked quietly. “My guys said you were like John Wick, but without the guns, so I have to ask. Ex Military? Special forces?”
Johnny shook his head. “I'm just the mall Santa.”
“I don't believe you,” the man said.
“Look,” Johnny sighed. “I'm just a guy who wants to cash his check so he can buy his kid a Christmas present. I don't want any trouble. I just wanted to go home, finish my bottle of Whiskey and sleep.”
“How much do you make?” the man asked, raising an eyebrow.
“Huh?”
“How much does being a mall Santa pay?”
“Twenty bucks an hour,” Johnny said.
“Here,” the guy said, as he pulled a wad of notes out of the bag by his feet and shoved it inside Johnny's jacket. “Go get yourself a great present for your kid, stop interfering with my plan, and get the fuck out of this bank!”
“I'm not taking anyone's money,” Johnny said. “That's why I'm doing this godforsaken job in the first place, and I'm not leaving, not while you've got a gun trained on these kids.”
“I promised these hired idiots no one would get hurt, which was a shame, because I love hurting people,” the guy said with a feral grin, as he stood up and cracked his knuckles. He looked around at his bleeding men, and said, “But it looks like Christmas just came early for me.”
“I get punched in the face all the time. I can take it,” Johnny said, glaring up at the man. “I'm not scared of you.”
“You should be,” the man said lowly, as he rolled up his sleeves.
The man slammed his fist into Johnny's stomach, doubling him over and drawing a low grunt from him.
Johnny heard the gasps and sobs of the children, and did his best not to react to the pain of the blow.
The man struck again, hitting Johnny hard in the face. The pain in his nose burst through his brain like a sharp spike, and he could feel blood running down his lips, into the white hair of his fake beard that had been pulled below his chin.
Blow followed blow, and Johnny kept his mouth shut. Clamping down, trying to keep himself from letting out a cry as fists connected again and again.
Johnny could feel blood pouring down his face, as the man took a break to rub his no doubt aching knuckles.
“You asshole,” Johnny said, as he looked down at himself. “I have to return this suit after the holidays. I'll never get the blood stains out of it.”
The children were sobbing, wailing as the man hit Johnny again, almost knocking him unconscious with the strength of the blow.
Johnny spat out a mouthful of blood, letting his head hang low. He wasn't sure how much more of this he could take. Everything was getting fuzzy round the edges, and he was pretty sure one more punch would finish him off.
“I'll repeat my question,” the man said. “WHO. ARE. YOU?”
“Look, man,” Johnny groaned. “I've got a bad cold and to be honest I'm kinda drunk right now. I just wanna get home, lay on the couch and fall asleep, but no! I'm here with you assholes. I'm just the mall Santa. I'm no one special.”
“I don't believe you,” the man said, as he raised his machine gun and aimed it at Johnny.
“Don't do this in front of the kids, man,” Johnny said.
“It's time to say goodbye to Santa, children!” the man shouted, his voice full of glee.
The children were screaming, begging him not to shoot Santa, but their cries just seemed to make the man more excited.
Johnny looked up at the man defiantly. He didn't want it to end like this, in front of a bunch of kids, scarring them for life. He just wanted to go home. He wanted to spend Christmas Eve with Daniel, and then Christmas Day with Robby and Miguel.
It wasn't going to happen though. Robby was going to spend yet another Christmas without him. He'd let him down again.
The man grinned as he moved his finger, taking off the safety, then moved it over the trigger and started to squeeze.
There was a sudden blur of red in the corner of Johnny's eye, and a foot lashed out, kicking the gun out of the robber's hand and sending it flying across the bank.
It was Daniel. Daniel was there, leaping into the air again and kicking the bank robber in the face. The man's head snapped back, and he collapsed to the floor unconscious.
Johnny blinked up at him, barely able to believe his eyes.
“Daniel?” he asked.
Was this really happening? Had the guy shot him, and he was just imagining Daniel coming to his rescue like a white knight in shining armour? Or in this case, dressed in a red knitted sweater, that had the words 'Mrs. Claus' emblazoned across the front of it.
“Are you really here?” Johnny asked quietly.
“Yeah, I'm here,” Daniel said softly, as he crouched down in front of Johnny and started pulling at the knots that held him tied to the chair.
As Daniel finally undid the ropes, the cops streamed into the building, and ran over to the bank robber, cuffing his hands behind his back.
“I need a paramedic,” one of them shouted into a radio, then he placed a hand on Johnny's shoulder, and asked, “Sir, are you injured?”
“I'm OK,” Johnny said.
“No. You're not,” Daniel said, as he used the cuff of his sweater to sweep the blood from Johnny's lips.
“I can't believe you came,” Johnny whispered, looking up at him. “You saved me, man.”
“Well, John McClane didn't work alone, Johnny,” Daniel said, as he wiped the blood from his chin. “He had Argyle and Al Powell helping him too.”
Johnny let out a snort of laughter, suddenly feeling weak and dizzy, and Daniel pulled him into his arms, wrapping them around him to keep him safe.
Despite the blood that was drying on his skin, Daniel leaned over and kissed him softly.
As the cops started taking the hostages outside, Johnny looked around, then looked at Daniel and asked, “Did you come in with the cops?”
“No. I made a run for it through the back door,” Daniel said, shaking his head. “I'm pretty sure one of the cops took a shot at me.”
“Holy shit,” Johnny gasped. “I'm glad you're OK. I don't know what I'd do if anything happened to you.”
One of the cops stopped, and said, “Sir, the paramedics will be here in a few minutes.”
“Thank you,” Daniel said, looking up at him.
“I don't wanna go to the hospital, man,” Johnny complained. “I just wanna go home and be with you.”
“You think we won't be getting visits and phone calls from everyone we know tonight?” Daniel asked with a soft smile. “As soon as Robby and Miguel find out about this you won't be able to keep them away.”
“We can if we tell them were gonna bone,” Johnny said with a grin that hurt his face. “Put a sock on the door handle.”
Daniel let out a snort of laughter. “I don't think even that would stop them, and it's a shame, because I put a lot of effort into my outfit.”
“Yeah,” Johnny said, running his fingertips gently over Daniel's chest. “I like your sweater.”
“The sweater wasn't the surprise,” Daniel said quietly, then he leaned forward and whispered into Johnny's ear, “I'm wearing matching underwear.”
“Wait,” Johnny said. “They do men's underwear with Mrs. Claus written on them?”
“No, Johnny,” Daniel said with a sly grin. “They don't.”
Johnny brain suddenly caught up with what Daniel was saying, and he looked down, as he said, “Oh my god, did take down a bank robber while wearing women's un-”
“Shhhhh,” Daniel said, placing a finger to his lips. “That's for you to find out later.”
“Oh yeah?” Johnny asked with a grin. “You want me to hurry down your chimney tonight?”
“Johnny!” Daniel shrieked. “Oh my god, there's still kids here. Don't use Christmas songs as a come on. It's... creepy.”
“I've been listening to mall Christmas music for 24 days straight,” Johnny said. “It's all I've got in my head, and man, the lyrics of some of them are dirty as hell.”
Daniel let out a laugh. “Dirty? In what way?”
“Seriously, you would not believe how many songs Santa comes in,” Johnny asked. “You want me to prove it?”
“Maybe later,” Daniel said with a smile, patting him on the arm. “When we're at home, after you've been to the hospital.”
“Oh, whatttt?” Johnny groaned. “I'm fine.”
“We'll just go get you checked out. It won't take long, I promise,” Daniel said, then he leaned forward, and whispered in Johnny's ear, “Then you can take me home and fuck me, Santa.”
“Oh yeah,” Johnny said with a grin. “Santa Claus is definitely coming to town tonight.”