Steve was studying the back of the car in front of him, the loose box of the four cars within thirty feet of his truck. Already beginning to pick where he was shifting, where he'd weave based on the tilt of the cars alone. People were predictable enough, especially here, if you knew what to look for. The obsessively defensive notion behind driving that was in opposition to Asia.
Which is as far as he's made it when Cath is settling back in her chair. Loosening up, instead of preparing.
"It's a myth," Steve batted back fast and hard, like it was some other kind of sport. Serve and return. Eyebrows pinching up, and looking at her more from the side, over a shoulder. Like she'd just suggested some other kind of terrible thing were true. Like that whole notion wasn't even true from the ground.
Not that he didn't moonlight toward it from time to time. But coming here, even living here, hadn't been about that, still wasn't about that for the greatest percent of all of his days. That he'd come because of his Dad's last cryptic message before he was murdered. Stayed because it was going to be the long game. Stayed for various other reasons, too. Important ones. But that one had always been mixed in at the foundation.
A mystery that two years later was still only getting bigger and more multifaceted, from then until yesterday.
"You thinking about taking in the sights or just laying on the beach during this little vacation?" The last word is almost slanderously mocking. Curving up the edge of his mouth, even when his eyes stay a little more serious this time.
There are dozens of places and thoughts for things from the past. Most forgotten halfway to them. Halfway to meals, halfway to the front door, halfway out of a car. They did make it to places now and again, but he tally isn't lost on him, when he's thinking he could point her at things, sideswipe tickets to nearly anything she might be interested in, drag her to others, like Koko Head, time permitting on the Navy or Five-0.
Danny. When, if, she's still here once the weekend has rolled over.
no subject
Which is as far as he's made it when Cath is settling back in her chair. Loosening up, instead of preparing.
"It's a myth," Steve batted back fast and hard, like it was some other kind of sport. Serve and return. Eyebrows pinching up, and looking at her more from the side, over a shoulder. Like she'd just suggested some other kind of terrible thing were true. Like that whole notion wasn't even true from the ground.
Not that he didn't moonlight toward it from time to time. But coming here, even living here, hadn't been about that, still wasn't about that for the greatest percent of all of his days. That he'd come because of his Dad's last cryptic message before he was murdered. Stayed because it was going to be the long game. Stayed for various other reasons, too. Important ones. But that one had always been mixed in at the foundation.
A mystery that two years later was still only getting bigger and more multifaceted, from then until yesterday.
"You thinking about taking in the sights or just laying on the beach during this little vacation?" The last word is almost slanderously mocking. Curving up the edge of his mouth, even when his eyes stay a little more serious this time.
There are dozens of places and thoughts for things from the past. Most forgotten halfway to them. Halfway to meals, halfway to the front door, halfway out of a car. They did make it to places now and again, but he tally isn't lost on him, when he's thinking he could point her at things, sideswipe tickets to nearly anything she might be interested in, drag her to others, like Koko Head, time permitting on the Navy or Five-0.
Danny. When, if, she's still here once the weekend has rolled over.