Steve's reply is only to pause, before holding out his beer, and that's the perfect button, a universal gesture. Olive branch in the form of brown glass.

So, maybe, they understand each other. Enough that Danny responds by tipping his own bottle and clinking the necks together, which is almost friendly enough that he's tripped into a grin before he realizes it, before letting it spread once he does. Because it's kind of nice, almost. Sitting here. Talking to Steve. Feeling like a person, and not a loaded gun that keeps getting dropped.

Turning out that Steve maybe isn't a hardass all the time, obsessed with work and incapable of normal human interactions, because there's something softer about his face now, though he's still watching Danny with a strange kind of intent. Like he's trying to translate words and expressions into something he understands. Or like he's not totally sure what Danny might do or say next, but founds himself wanting to know.

Danny's got no idea, but he doesn't mind. This might be the first time today that they've gotten along, but it clicked, somewhere, while he wasn't looking.

Maybe that's no bad thing.

Maybe this could work, after all.