It's digging in between his shoulderblades the same way he's digging in a pocket for a couple of quarters: two from the last beer he bought, one more found in an aggravating medley of pocket lint, receipts, and a movie theatre ticket from the last time he had Grace. Three, altogether, that get slapped into Steve's waiting hand, that smile still knowing and aggravating as hell, blackening the storm cloud hanging over Danny's head a little further. "Here, you cheapskate, let me ask you, who pays for things when I'm not around, huh? Do you just shake people down like a kid running a lunch money racket?"
Or maybe helpful, hopeful women pay for him, who knows, Danny doesn't, and that's fine. Just fine. As he gives the line of cues a frown, grabs the longest one they've got, shoves the blunt end Steve's direction.
It's a little easier. Now that they're away from the bartender, and that girl, who is -- Danny glances at the bar while Steve is busy with the table -- looking equal parts disappointed and confused, but whatever. Looks like that, a fair amount of bravado, she'll get plenty of attention tonight, if that's what she's looking for.
Just not from this corner, alright? Is that too much to ask, after the month they've had?
Throwing an unimpressed glance in Steve's general direction, as he pushes the cue towards his chest.
"I had no idea you weren't able to find the cues yourself, genius. In the future, they're --" he gestures toward them, hand drawing a line horizontally along the wall, showing them off like a game show host, "-- right here. This game was your idea, you'd think you would actually be even half ready to play."
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
branchandroot
(no subject)
Date: 2012-11-27 02:23 am (UTC)It's digging in between his shoulderblades the same way he's digging in a pocket for a couple of quarters: two from the last beer he bought, one more found in an aggravating medley of pocket lint, receipts, and a movie theatre ticket from the last time he had Grace. Three, altogether, that get slapped into Steve's waiting hand, that smile still knowing and aggravating as hell, blackening the storm cloud hanging over Danny's head a little further. "Here, you cheapskate, let me ask you, who pays for things when I'm not around, huh? Do you just shake people down like a kid running a lunch money racket?"
Or maybe helpful, hopeful women pay for him, who knows, Danny doesn't, and that's fine. Just fine. As he gives the line of cues a frown, grabs the longest one they've got, shoves the blunt end Steve's direction.
It's a little easier. Now that they're away from the bartender, and that girl, who is -- Danny glances at the bar while Steve is busy with the table -- looking equal parts disappointed and confused, but whatever. Looks like that, a fair amount of bravado, she'll get plenty of attention tonight, if that's what she's looking for.
Just not from this corner, alright? Is that too much to ask, after the month they've had?
Throwing an unimpressed glance in Steve's general direction, as he pushes the cue towards his chest.
"I had no idea you weren't able to find the cues yourself, genius. In the future, they're --" he gestures toward them, hand drawing a line horizontally along the wall, showing them off like a game show host, "-- right here. This game was your idea, you'd think you would actually be even half ready to play."