"Fine. Yes." Steve's half-waving the back of the one hand not busy with the use of his arm to hold a laptop and a tangle of cords. "Go." Words fast and singular as he looks at the Danny, not missing the fact he just skipped the whole point about not talking any more, and around at the room, barely touched and started. Definitely not where he planned to be twenty-four or even twelve hours ago. But it's here. A strange, quasi-civilian sector base of operations.
That might or might not be here tomorrow night, the same as it wasn't this morning. Only time, and Hesse can tell. The meet if the meet works. But those are all thoughts he can have not in this place, too. Which makes it easy to head out of the door, to go back down the hallways and toward the ample staircases and historical, austere, opulence that is the main foyer before they get out.
He's not expecting the elbow and it's a marvel he doesn't suddenly sideswipe him, with the laptop, of even the arm Danny smacks suddenly, from the surprise. He doesn't. It just makes his core tightened and the muscles in his shoulder, when he's telling himself to let go. It's normal. Not a hair trigger on a bomb. Nor a reason to slam someone into a wall. It's just an elbow, and the man is going on talking already. Like it's what? Normal? Like he just can?
It's that strange combination all flooding through his head, momentarily shoving the rest aside, that makes him furrow his brow and say right back, "I didn't piss off the big man."
no subject
That might or might not be here tomorrow night, the same as it wasn't this morning. Only time, and Hesse can tell. The meet if the meet works. But those are all thoughts he can have not in this place, too. Which makes it easy to head out of the door, to go back down the hallways and toward the ample staircases and historical, austere, opulence that is the main foyer before they get out.
He's not expecting the elbow and it's a marvel he doesn't suddenly sideswipe him, with the laptop, of even the arm Danny smacks suddenly, from the surprise. He doesn't. It just makes his core tightened and the muscles in his shoulder, when he's telling himself to let go. It's normal. Not a hair trigger on a bomb. Nor a reason to slam someone into a wall. It's just an elbow, and the man is going on talking already. Like it's what? Normal? Like he just can?
It's that strange combination all flooding through his head, momentarily shoving the rest aside, that makes him furrow his brow and say right back, "I didn't piss off the big man."