I was inspired by imaginarycircus's "What are you wearing" prompt, and I missed the fact she prompted for a round robin. Oops!
***
"So, what are you wearing?" Steve says as soon as Danny picks up the phone.
"Must you go with the cheesy opening lines?" Danny changes lanes and slows the car down. "Hello to you too, Steven. How's LA?"
"It's...brown," Steve says, and even through a tinny phone connection, Danny can hear the dismay in his voice.
"That's called 'smog', my friend."
"I don't like it." Steve sighs, a gust of air cracking over the phone.
"Nobody likes it. How goes the schmoozing?" Danny asks, slowing for a stop sign. "Making good friends with the DEA office over there? Are they going to help us out or what?"
"Yeah, we're all good buddies now." Steve sounds weary.
"You're not schmoozing properly, are you? I told you, I should have been the one to go--"
Steve laughs. "Right. Because you are known the world over for your schmoozing ability."
"Hey, I can schmooze. I can schmooze with the best of them." Steve is still laughing, which should be irksome, but it's not. Truth is, it's good to hear Steve's voice, even though it's only been a few days. And to hear his laughter is even better. Danny presses the phone closer to his ear. "Why is that so funny?"
"Because it is. Are you in the car?"
"Yes," Danny says. "I'm in my car, and I'm driving. Me. Driving my own car. Who would have thought?"
Steve snorts. "You know what? I pray to god you don't have to chase down any suspects while I'm gone, because they'll be out of sight in no time."
"Are you impugning my driving skills?" Danny asks in disbelief.
"Yes. I'm impugning."
"Funny thing," Danny says. "We haven't had a car chase since you left the island. Why is that, Steven? No explosions, either."
"I don't know, it sounds like you're not doing it right."
Danny scowls at the phone. "Yeah. I'll do you right." Which, as a comeback, is about as lame as can be, but there's traffic and spaced-out surfers crossing the street and Danny is getting distracted.
Steve harrumphs over the line. "Back to my first question, Danny. What are you wearing?"
Danny lifts a hand questioningly, then slaps it back down on the steering wheel when the car begins to swerve. "Let me just pull over, okay? And what is with you? What do you think I'm wearing?"
He slows the car as he spots a turnoff directly ahead. It leads to a small, shaded rest area and Danny parks the car under a tree, turning the engine off. If he got into an accident while arguing with Steve on the phone, he'd never hear the end of it.
"Let me guess," Steve muses. "You're in khakis, a button-down shirt, and a tie." He actually sounds wistful.
Danny looks in the rear view mirror and straightens his tie. "Wrong."
Steve is silent for a moment. "Really?"
"Really," Danny confirms.
"You're on your way back from work, right?" Steve asks, puzzlement coming through loud and clear and Danny can just see the little wrinkle forming between his brows.
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timeasmymeasure
Long Distance, Steve/Danny, NC-17 (1/3)
Date: 2011-05-03 10:29 pm (UTC)***
"So, what are you wearing?" Steve says as soon as Danny picks up the phone.
"Must you go with the cheesy opening lines?" Danny changes lanes and slows the car down. "Hello to you too, Steven. How's LA?"
"It's...brown," Steve says, and even through a tinny phone connection, Danny can hear the dismay in his voice.
"That's called 'smog', my friend."
"I don't like it." Steve sighs, a gust of air cracking over the phone.
"Nobody likes it. How goes the schmoozing?" Danny asks, slowing for a stop sign. "Making good friends with the DEA office over there? Are they going to help us out or what?"
"Yeah, we're all good buddies now." Steve sounds weary.
"You're not schmoozing properly, are you? I told you, I should have been the one to go--"
Steve laughs. "Right. Because you are known the world over for your schmoozing ability."
"Hey, I can schmooze. I can schmooze with the best of them." Steve is still laughing, which should be irksome, but it's not. Truth is, it's good to hear Steve's voice, even though it's only been a few days. And to hear his laughter is even better. Danny presses the phone closer to his ear. "Why is that so funny?"
"Because it is. Are you in the car?"
"Yes," Danny says. "I'm in my car, and I'm driving. Me. Driving my own car. Who would have thought?"
Steve snorts. "You know what? I pray to god you don't have to chase down any suspects while I'm gone, because they'll be out of sight in no time."
"Are you impugning my driving skills?" Danny asks in disbelief.
"Yes. I'm impugning."
"Funny thing," Danny says. "We haven't had a car chase since you left the island. Why is that, Steven? No explosions, either."
"I don't know, it sounds like you're not doing it right."
Danny scowls at the phone. "Yeah. I'll do you right." Which, as a comeback, is about as lame as can be, but there's traffic and spaced-out surfers crossing the street and Danny is getting distracted.
Steve harrumphs over the line. "Back to my first question, Danny. What are you wearing?"
Danny lifts a hand questioningly, then slaps it back down on the steering wheel when the car begins to swerve. "Let me just pull over, okay? And what is with you? What do you think I'm wearing?"
He slows the car as he spots a turnoff directly ahead. It leads to a small, shaded rest area and Danny parks the car under a tree, turning the engine off. If he got into an accident while arguing with Steve on the phone, he'd never hear the end of it.
"Let me guess," Steve muses. "You're in khakis, a button-down shirt, and a tie." He actually sounds wistful.
Danny looks in the rear view mirror and straightens his tie. "Wrong."
Steve is silent for a moment. "Really?"
"Really," Danny confirms.
"You're on your way back from work, right?" Steve asks, puzzlement coming through loud and clear and Danny can just see the little wrinkle forming between his brows.
"Right."
"So then what are you wearing?"