There's a warily, dubious, almost ironically blank question of an expression that slides Danny's direction at that.

All barely catching in the tucked edges of Steve's mouth, and the slant of how his eyes shift over to Danny even when his face doesn't turn that way. Like he's not quite sure he believed Danny said that. That anyone on the planet said things like that, at least not like that, when they weren't speaking to children and talking about tying their shoelaces.

Steve might be regrouping his opinions on Williams, but at this second, emotional instability might be in the list, too. Not that pretty much every person he'd ever worked with in the field didn't fall into that box. But the fact Williams is almost smiling now, is a lifting flip. But, hell, it's better than getting into another fight on the grounds of the Arizona, which even Steve would point out was too much, too far, and too in the wrong place.

Really all Danny gets is that look, and Steve looking back out the windshield, pointing toward the lot, "Park over there."