Steve doesn't know the answer to the question. Whatever it's ever supposed to be. He really never does. And it usually ends up making him make a worse face if he even tries to ask about what it is Danny is blundering at with that question. Undoubtedly leading to hand waving at his face and details Steve can hardly follow to make any kind of sense in the first place. So he doesn't ask this time.

He turns on to the drive for his house, which is racing closer and closer, and say the easy to say part, "Empty bars don't stay open long."

And, bars. Bars were crowded with all the people you didn't find anywhere else. Who were looking for other people who made their appearances in bars. All of whom actually paid rather good money for a mark up on their drinks, their food, and all entertainment offered in the establishment. It didn't make it not worth it. But it didn't mean it had very far to go before it hit its glass ceiling.

The car comes to a stop, with the engine going off and Steve opening the door. Two very close movements, with a look toward Danny as he's unclipping his belt and getting out of the silver car. The quiet night everywhere breaking in as there were no walls. The sound of the breeze in the palms and the ocean in the far distance crashing on itself and the shore.

Keys still in his hand, in the grasp of fingers and half dangling, warm and cold metal both digging in against the skin of his palm, when he's looking of the roof toward Danny, keeping his expression relatively casual in inquiry. "You coming in?"

It's almost like Are you staying? which isn't exactly a question that gets asked, and it's not like he doesn't still have to leave sometimes even after saying yes to the first, for work, for Grace, for other things, but more often than not it answers the other question to.

Though, in this moment, when the center of his chests twists, like its not casual, he'd be glad even with the first and not the second.