So, it looks like the answer is yes, and also that the Governor's golden goose hasn't stopped laying eggs, but Danny just rolls his eyes and shakes his head, while Chin, catching sight of him from across the table, chuckles, an easy-going smile spreading across his face, like they aren't tracking an international threat across a tiny island.

Danny finds himself liking him.

"Not a call," is what Chin's saying, but he's pulled out his phone anyway, and is peering at the screen as he scrolls past something, taps, scrolls again until he finds whatever he's looking for. "If I know her, she's nowhere near a phone. Finish your lunches, and let's head to the beach -- I've got a good feeling the thing we need will wash right up in the surf."

He's all amusement and relaxed, easy-going words: it's a far sight from the hard looks he'd cast at the two of them at the harbor, so Danny frowns at him, rolls his head back with a sigh, and wipes his hands from the last chicken tender, tosses the napkin into his empty box.

"Always the beach. Why's it always gotta be the beach?"