It's not a pattern. Not really. Not when you're taking all of the years into account. But Danny isn't. He's only talking about the last two. The time while Steve was grounded here in Hawaii and it became easier to match up off times, and steal weekends, when they weren't floating the boat and missions schedules to find something. Somewhere. Anywhere. In the middle.

"Fine." It's firm, and a little annoyed, but there is some concession to it. "We have-" He paused for emphasis, matching Danny's words. "-had-" That doesn't look very giving, even when it is. "-a pattern."

But to be contrite, and honest. Along with several other things. "Sometimes." Beat. Again. "Not always."

Because there were times when she had other people, and, even more, there were sometimes the better part of whole years where they never saw each other. Where lines didn't match up and days were off. Or Steve was somewhere that no one could reach him over and over and over. Because he liked it that way.

"So, where does that leave us?" Because they aren't anymore.

Anywhere near that general consensus Danny keeps using as an example to explain him and Cath. That haven't been him and Cath ever, but especially haven't been since back in early spring. Definitely haven't been for the last few weeks, and it's been underlined as completely not for two days. Because Danny is right there. His own hands and lips still warm from friction.