"Let me explain something to you: yellow legal paper and crossed out words do not a classy invitation make."
He's had more than enough of legal pads these days, seriously. There are times when just seeing that particular shade of yellow makes his blood pressure sky rocket and drifts a haze of red across everything he sees.
Not here, okay. Not with Steve. But sometimes. Yellow legal pads and phone calls and miserable lawyers breathing down his neck, waiting for him to slip up, making sidling comments about his apartment, his job, his lack of a serious committed relationship, as if lawyers have any right to tell him how fast or slow to move with anybody.
Still, he'll bet Rachel's team will be more than happy to hear that Gabby is no longer in the picture. And this would probably be the best ammunition he could possibly hand them: sleeping with his partner and best friend who is also his boss. Someone he'd actually gone into North Korea for, went after the CIA itself for, and if that wasn't foolhardy, if those didn't jack up his potential demise and the possibility of leaving Grace without a father, then he doesn't know what might.
Which is a terrifying truth that he doesn't want to look at too closely: the sure knowledge that those things he said to Steve on the first days, I am not getting killed for your vendetta, might not be entirely accurate, anymore.
Because there's nothing he can do, if Steve needs help, but to go there, and do whatever he can. Anything he can.
Thankfully, none of that's needed tonight, not when he's got Steve by the wrist and he just had two good days with his daughter. Except Steve isn't looking smug anymore; Steve is looking behind them at the living room, and his expression has side-slipped into something else, a little of that treading water feeling of the last few days, faintly lost, almost confused.
There are no words for the level of fury Danny feels at Doris McGarrett right now for putting even one glimpse of that expression on Steve's face, but at least that doesn't show, though his fingers tighten, tugging at Steve's attention.
"Come on, this was your idea, like you've got something so great up here. I know leaving a mess insults your Army sensitivities, but it'll keep for one night without anyone giving you twenty four hours of cold water training or whatever it was they did in SEAL school if you didn't tie your shoelaces."
Any maybe the growls are a little more purposeful than usual, but Danny wouldn't ever admit to it, even if caught red-handed.
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branchandroot
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Date: 2013-02-26 01:53 am (UTC)He's had more than enough of legal pads these days, seriously. There are times when just seeing that particular shade of yellow makes his blood pressure sky rocket and drifts a haze of red across everything he sees.
Not here, okay. Not with Steve. But sometimes. Yellow legal pads and phone calls and miserable lawyers breathing down his neck, waiting for him to slip up, making sidling comments about his apartment, his job, his lack of a serious committed relationship, as if lawyers have any right to tell him how fast or slow to move with anybody.
Still, he'll bet Rachel's team will be more than happy to hear that Gabby is no longer in the picture. And this would probably be the best ammunition he could possibly hand them: sleeping with his partner and best friend who is also his boss. Someone he'd actually gone into North Korea for, went after the CIA itself for, and if that wasn't foolhardy, if those didn't jack up his potential demise and the possibility of leaving Grace without a father, then he doesn't know what might.
Which is a terrifying truth that he doesn't want to look at too closely: the sure knowledge that those things he said to Steve on the first days, I am not getting killed for your vendetta, might not be entirely accurate, anymore.
Because there's nothing he can do, if Steve needs help, but to go there, and do whatever he can. Anything he can.
Thankfully, none of that's needed tonight, not when he's got Steve by the wrist and he just had two good days with his daughter. Except Steve isn't looking smug anymore; Steve is looking behind them at the living room, and his expression has side-slipped into something else, a little of that treading water feeling of the last few days, faintly lost, almost confused.
There are no words for the level of fury Danny feels at Doris McGarrett right now for putting even one glimpse of that expression on Steve's face, but at least that doesn't show, though his fingers tighten, tugging at Steve's attention.
"Come on, this was your idea, like you've got something so great up here. I know leaving a mess insults your Army sensitivities, but it'll keep for one night without anyone giving you twenty four hours of cold water training or whatever it was they did in SEAL school if you didn't tie your shoelaces."
Any maybe the growls are a little more purposeful than usual, but Danny wouldn't ever admit to it, even if caught red-handed.