The stupefaction of that gut wrenching expression trying not to escape Danny's control (that on he somehow hasn't realized is soaked all through him, from his jaw to his shoulders, posture and bottle hold) is worth the price of the whole few words. Of the pout focused on him like he stole someone's promised toy. When he might be failing at keeping his cheeks from tugging up, brightening.

When he's grinning, even if he probably should be and giving a loose shrug of his shoulders. "Criminals don't sleep in."

Though Danny has gotten him to do so on very rare occasion. Not that he has designs on sleeping anytime soon yet. Not that he couldn't. But he has no design on staying here, entertaining someone else with small talk about the last things he'd wanted to talk about.

"But this was great," Steve tacked on, like he couldn't hear the go get em' team casualness. "Thanks for the game."

He might even mean the pool game, though he's not giving much for her baffled face. The one where she was breathing out a confused Yeah, like somehow she missed a step and was trying to figure out where it was an how to regain the foreground. Except he was already turning and moving to put his pool stick back up where Danny got it from.