Steve thinks she looks hopeful and doubtful now, but Steve is in motion. Since he has no clue what Danny is or isn't doing now. Parroting words, that aren't adding anything, while touching Steve in ways that only helps his cover, and do not in the slightest help their case getting back on track. When anything could be happening. The suspect could be gone already, and with her any timely clue of where she was going or what she was planning.
Danny shivers before he lifts his hand and Steve tells himself not to look back, because he doesn't want to know, okay. He doesn't want to know if Danny's Cover just got the better of Danny's ability to be okay just moving himself through the motions of the cover. It could just be anything. Really. He can just be grateful, because that's the word, right, not something else, when Danny's hand slips away, and Steve can't even pay attention the fast fade of phantom warmth because he's taking fast, direct steps to Ruth.
"I'll call him right now," Steve said, hand nearly gracing her shoulder, but not landing at all.
Instead taking her hand and helping her up, careful of her balance but with the absolute goal of getting her out the door. His posture and his voice both gone all over instantly soft. Compelling. The expression understanding and sympathetic. Entirely sincere in promise. "He'll be glad to come over and look into it. I'm sure he's not doing anything."
Which was almost like being sure whatever he was doing wasn't anything important, followed by the fact Jerry loved getting to help out Five-0 when he could. These two would probably be a match made in heaven, and maybe she wouldn't even come back then.
She took faltering steps, holding on to the hand that had been against Danny's skin seconds ago. "Such a sweet boy."
"Okay." Steve says the words not even mattering, because she's looking sad but she isn't disagree. She's taking those steps toward the door. "So, you go home, and you expect to see somebody soon. Okay?"
Steve followed along behind her, a solid mass, free hand ready for the door, while the rest of him was a wall allowing no detours back to the table, the cookies, the couch, since she'd made herself welcome to sit and talk the first time she'd been encouraged to go. Face understanding, but most of it backed up by impatience. With the last four or five steps to the door, and the way, she paused very briefly to tell Danny, "Be sure to return the plate when you're finished with it."
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branchandroot
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Date: 2015-04-11 05:18 pm (UTC)Steve thinks she looks hopeful and doubtful now, but Steve is in motion. Since he has no clue what Danny is or isn't doing now. Parroting words, that aren't adding anything, while touching Steve in ways that only helps his cover, and do not in the slightest help their case getting back on track. When anything could be happening. The suspect could be gone already, and with her any timely clue of where she was going or what she was planning.
Danny shivers before he lifts his hand and Steve tells himself not to look back, because he doesn't want to know, okay. He doesn't want to know if Danny's Cover just got the better of Danny's ability to be okay just moving himself through the motions of the cover. It could just be anything. Really. He can just be grateful, because that's the word, right, not something else, when Danny's hand slips away, and Steve can't even pay attention the fast fade of phantom warmth because he's taking fast, direct steps to Ruth.
"I'll call him right now," Steve said, hand nearly gracing her shoulder, but not landing at all.
Instead taking her hand and helping her up, careful of her balance but with the absolute goal of getting her out the door. His posture and his voice both gone all over instantly soft. Compelling. The expression understanding and sympathetic. Entirely sincere in promise. "He'll be glad to come over and look into it. I'm sure he's not doing anything."
Which was almost like being sure whatever he was doing wasn't anything important, followed by the fact Jerry loved getting to help out Five-0 when he could. These two would probably be a match made in heaven, and maybe she wouldn't even come back then.
She took faltering steps, holding on to the hand that had been against Danny's skin seconds ago. "Such a sweet boy."
"Okay." Steve says the words not even mattering, because she's looking sad but she isn't disagree. She's taking those steps toward the door. "So, you go home, and you expect to see somebody soon. Okay?"
Steve followed along behind her, a solid mass, free hand ready for the door, while the rest of him was a wall allowing no detours back to the table, the cookies, the couch, since she'd made herself welcome to sit and talk the first time she'd been encouraged to go. Face understanding, but most of it backed up by impatience. With the last four or five steps to the door, and the way, she paused very briefly to tell Danny, "Be sure to return the plate when you're finished with it."