It's a choice. He'll never lie and say it isn't. He's trained to react. But he's trained to choose to react. Faster than a thought. Faster than a consideration. The pro's and con's, the sacrifices and the gains. Trained to go when other men would hold. And sometimes?

You just have to treat a sick bastard who is only a means to an end like a sick bastard who is only a means to an end, and show them the winning hand has always been yours.

Which happens in less than a second, when Danny takes his warning for a joke. Like Steve hasn't killed more people than Danny has possibly ever met, run into more situation with people pointing several guns at him than Danny could dream of, watched men, better and brighter than he'll ever be, bleed out because the cost of the oaths they take is higher than anything this man has ever chosen, too.

That finger hits his shoulder, forcing his hand, and Steve's hand snaps up wrapping his wrist. Followed by his other hand grabbing the forearm and his twists, hard behind his back, shoving Danny toward the ground. Knowing the human body will cave and follow. The harder you twist the more certain it is. When he's shoving the man down, sliding the further hand up his wrist, and the other to flatten his palm back as far a possible and using that, too.

But refusing to let himself, let his pumping heart and snapping nerves move any further, do any more damage.

"What did I tell you?" He talks down. Like it's to any squid. New frogman with his rocks too hard up with the though of being elite and not focused. "I warned you." He did. He tried to keep it professional. He tried to keep his mind on the case, and not the fuck ups and dead bodies. Tried not to get mired in making it personal and not the job. The chances, the new lead. Not this crap.