"I do know a place where I don't get boat-jacked," he says, shoulders pushing back, leaning against his elbow and the arm on the bar, eyebrows lifting high as his head cocks to one side. Purposefully ignoring the rest of Steve's point, because who's running this show, anyway? "It's called dry land."
Which, okay. He wouldn't have agreed to go at all if he really hadn't wanted to, and he didn't just go because Steve was so obviously excited about it, with his goofy hat and purple sleeveless shirt, spinning a story about catching tuna with John out on the open water, and he'd been so lit up by the idea that it's not like Danny could actually refuse.
Who could? When the things that make Steve happy are so few and far between right now, and this was the perfect chance to get his mind off...things.
And it seemed like a good idea at the time. Hell, it even seemed like a good idea right up until they got hijacked. Boats are okay. They're not great, and he doesn't trust them, but he's okay with them. Besides, what could possibly have gone wrong that a Navy SEAL wouldn't be able to deal with the problem, right?
Wrong.
He shrugs, turns back to the bar, taps his own bottle against the bartop and pushes it in the direction of the bartender who's come to give Steve a new drink.
"Admittedly, the fish was pretty tasty."
He can allow that. At least. But it's a stretch, Steve. A reluctant admittance that there may have been something, one good thing, to come of the whole mess.
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branchandroot
(no subject)
Date: 2012-11-22 02:17 am (UTC)Which, okay. He wouldn't have agreed to go at all if he really hadn't wanted to, and he didn't just go because Steve was so obviously excited about it, with his goofy hat and purple sleeveless shirt, spinning a story about catching tuna with John out on the open water, and he'd been so lit up by the idea that it's not like Danny could actually refuse.
Who could? When the things that make Steve happy are so few and far between right now, and this was the perfect chance to get his mind off...things.
And it seemed like a good idea at the time. Hell, it even seemed like a good idea right up until they got hijacked. Boats are okay. They're not great, and he doesn't trust them, but he's okay with them. Besides, what could possibly have gone wrong that a Navy SEAL wouldn't be able to deal with the problem, right?
Wrong.
He shrugs, turns back to the bar, taps his own bottle against the bartop and pushes it in the direction of the bartender who's come to give Steve a new drink.
"Admittedly, the fish was pretty tasty."
He can allow that. At least. But it's a stretch, Steve. A reluctant admittance that there may have been something, one good thing, to come of the whole mess.