She doesn't give him the chance to say anything else, which is probably good, because he's really not sure he could manage grinding out you kids have fun with even a passable degree of believability, and he's already considering the bleak outlook of a night alone in his shithole apartment, with no Steve and no Grace. Driving his own car, alone, with the mental image of Lani sidling a little closer to Steve with every shot she takes eat away at the base of his skull, drops of acid burning a hole right through his chest.

Not the way he'd hoped for the evening to go, but, hey, Steve looks a hell of a lot more cheerful now, and that was the point, even if this is so far from -- anything. Everything. He'd just wanted to get some time out of the house. Away from memories, and the heavy weight of them Steve's been carrying around, dragging like Marley's chains. Out, to a bar, for once, where's the harm in that?

Well, here it is, and he should have known better, but he didn't, and now he's going to leave alone, and Steve is going to finish up this game and then go too.










Wait, what?



Lani's surprise has nothing on Danny's. He feels like the floor's disintegrated beneath his shoes, and Steve, that asshole, is just shrugging it all off: her bemusement, Danny's confusion. Like it was a foregone conclusion. "Good timing," is all he says, blank and feeling it, wondering just what the hell is happening, here.