It's all wrong, nothing like how Steve normally snaps at him after a case they closed, after getting the bad guy, after saving the day. There's nothing grinning in Steve's voice, nothing celebratory or smug.
It's just pure annoyance. Maybe even hatred.
Which hasn't been something Danny's considered as part of their relationship, no matter how many times he fumes to Steve that he hates him and everything about him, his driving, this island, his recklessness and military background. They haven't hated each other in years. Maybe not since that first day. That first beer. The first time they won, together. Were a team. Partners.
But Steve might hate him now, and Danny's got to let him, if that's the case.
Steve, turning on the car before Danny's even all the way in it, like he's ready to peel out as soon as Danny's ass hits the seat, which makes Danny glance over at him as he's in, and shutting the door, and reaching for the seatbelt, without anything good to say, at all.
He knows what he should say. How he should apologize. Get it off his chest, while he can, as soon as possible, so he doesn't need to make Steve more uncomfortable, but he's so selfish. He doesn't want it to be now, in the car, where he can't see all of Steve's face, or give Steve room to walk away, if that's what he wants.
Even if Danny can't let him. Won't, until Steve knows, that it won't ever happen again, that he's sorry, that he'd do anything to keep it from ruining everything. Everything that might already be ruined, and maybe Danny just needs to accept that, when Steve's not looking at him, and Steve's jaw is tight enough it might as well be wired shut, and the air in the car is strange and humid and full of sullen tension.
Clicking the belt in, and leaning back, too aware of his suit, of the lack of space (and too much space) between them, and how unhappy Steve is about being in this car with him, right now.
Waving his hand at the front window, and wishing he could have chewed it off, rather than let it wander under Steve's jacket. What was he thinking? "So go, then."
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It's all wrong, nothing like how Steve normally snaps at him after a case they closed, after getting the bad guy, after saving the day. There's nothing grinning in Steve's voice, nothing celebratory or smug.
It's just pure annoyance. Maybe even hatred.
Which hasn't been something Danny's considered as part of their relationship, no matter how many times he fumes to Steve that he hates him and everything about him, his driving, this island, his recklessness and military background. They haven't hated each other in years. Maybe not since that first day. That first beer. The first time they won, together. Were a team. Partners.
But Steve might hate him now, and Danny's got to let him, if that's the case.
Steve, turning on the car before Danny's even all the way in it, like he's ready to peel out as soon as Danny's ass hits the seat, which makes Danny glance over at him as he's in, and shutting the door, and reaching for the seatbelt, without anything good to say, at all.
He knows what he should say. How he should apologize. Get it off his chest, while he can, as soon as possible, so he doesn't need to make Steve more uncomfortable, but he's so selfish. He doesn't want it to be now, in the car, where he can't see all of Steve's face, or give Steve room to walk away, if that's what he wants.
Even if Danny can't let him. Won't, until Steve knows, that it won't ever happen again, that he's sorry, that he'd do anything to keep it from ruining everything. Everything that might already be ruined, and maybe Danny just needs to accept that, when Steve's not looking at him, and Steve's jaw is tight enough it might as well be wired shut, and the air in the car is strange and humid and full of sullen tension.
Clicking the belt in, and leaning back, too aware of his suit, of the lack of space (and too much space) between them, and how unhappy Steve is about being in this car with him, right now.
Waving his hand at the front window, and wishing he could have chewed it off, rather than let it wander under Steve's jacket. What was he thinking? "So go, then."