Lani's giving Danny a wearing look, not quite reaching clear enough to a glare. Which Steve's catching, because he's looking over to as Danny's talking about lawyers with the still, sharp, edge creeping into his voice, and he gets it. Everything thing the single title drags up for him. As well as the fact she doesn't get Danny can complain about nearly anything that comes out of anyone's mouth, even when smiling. It's just him.
The same with the topics it unhelpfully pokes, making him tense-up more and fire off words like her profession offends.
"It's not that bad," Lani said, to Danny. The reproach slipping out more in her voice than the clarity of her face. Though Steve shifted, clearing his throat, drumming fingers on the side rail, maybe a little like he was bored or disinterested in watching where it might go, anything else she might say, "Your shot."
She's allowed to get on Danny's nerves. She's not allowed to start stirring up the water with Grace and the Edwards. There's only so much hell Danny needs to get shoved through, and someone else was not going to blunder into that even frowning at his reactions they had no idea what were based on.
He gives her a generic enough sort of smile, not missing the shift where she almost looks back to Danny, considers better of it, flips her hair instead and changes where she's standing while calling a shot that's rather well set up since the eight break. Which she does get, while Steve is not quite looking directly over at Danny. The second shot bombs though when she hits it too hard and sends it drunkenly seesawing the wrong way.
But she just shrugs with a raise of her hand, like it's silly and funny somehow.
Leaving it back in Steve's corner with a shot that actually isn't all that complicated for the eight. He calls for across the table almost entirely, in a straight line, not too far off the bumper. Just needing to knock one side of the ball and half it fall in, enough force but not too much, so it'll go without scratching behind it. Pull back, compensate for almost foot less stick than he licks, and let it roll.
Which, of course, sinks it in one, letting something between his shoulders shift and rearrange itself a little loser. Just the smallest notch. Even when Lani sounds self-satisfied pleased, like someone she won the game. "See. Terrifying. Another match? Or did you--?" This question does come with looking from Steve back to Danny.
Which is rather mirrored and even when Steve is looking at Danny from behind her, looking up from over the pool stick as he'd moved to hit the solids toward pockets. Something curious but still there, when the question is there even if his eyebrows don't raise. Because really whatever Danny wanted at this point, he'd probably be down for. Wherein probably was a very loose interpretation of a very obvious point.
He wouldn't beat off the option to be very far from this table. But, you know, if Danny wanted to stay and stake his side, he could.
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The same with the topics it unhelpfully pokes, making him tense-up more and fire off words like her profession offends.
"It's not that bad," Lani said, to Danny. The reproach slipping out more in her voice than the clarity of her face. Though Steve shifted, clearing his throat, drumming fingers on the side rail, maybe a little like he was bored or disinterested in watching where it might go, anything else she might say, "Your shot."
She's allowed to get on Danny's nerves. She's not allowed to start stirring up the water with Grace and the Edwards. There's only so much hell Danny needs to get shoved through, and someone else was not going to blunder into that even frowning at his reactions they had no idea what were based on.
He gives her a generic enough sort of smile, not missing the shift where she almost looks back to Danny, considers better of it, flips her hair instead and changes where she's standing while calling a shot that's rather well set up since the eight break. Which she does get, while Steve is not quite looking directly over at Danny. The second shot bombs though when she hits it too hard and sends it drunkenly seesawing the wrong way.
But she just shrugs with a raise of her hand, like it's silly and funny somehow.
Leaving it back in Steve's corner with a shot that actually isn't all that complicated for the eight. He calls for across the table almost entirely, in a straight line, not too far off the bumper. Just needing to knock one side of the ball and half it fall in, enough force but not too much, so it'll go without scratching behind it. Pull back, compensate for almost foot less stick than he licks, and let it roll.
Which, of course, sinks it in one, letting something between his shoulders shift and rearrange itself a little loser. Just the smallest notch. Even when Lani sounds self-satisfied pleased, like someone she won the game. "See. Terrifying. Another match? Or did you--?" This question does come with looking from Steve back to Danny.
Which is rather mirrored and even when Steve is looking at Danny from behind her, looking up from over the pool stick as he'd moved to hit the solids toward pockets. Something curious but still there, when the question is there even if his eyebrows don't raise. Because really whatever Danny wanted at this point, he'd probably be down for. Wherein probably was a very loose interpretation of a very obvious point.
He wouldn't beat off the option to be very far from this table. But, you know, if Danny wanted to stay and stake his side, he could.