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“That’s a new one,” Steve says, and his hand flaps into Danny’s vision. They’re driving- sorry, Steve’s driving and Danny’s flipping through a file, the beginning of a brutal tension headache building.
“Sorry?” Danny rubs the bridge of his nose, flipping the folder closed. It’s no use right now, the words are blurring together and they're almost back at the office anyway.
“The tattoo,” Steve clarifies, “It’s new, right?”
Danny looks down at his hand. It’s three small dots, the ink still raised and itchy. “Yeah,” Danny says, and he brushes the thumb of his other hand over it.
“That’s three then, right?” Steve asks, and Danny fights back a sigh. Steve’s just doing his usual ‘gotta know it all’ schtick, even though Steve knows full well how many tattoos Danny’s got.
Danny brushes fingers over his knuckles, where the word PONY stands out in slightly faded ink. “One,” he counts off. He taps the small cross on his right thumb-, “Two,” and then flexes his left hand, where the newly healed skin is still tight. “Three.”
Steve pulls the car into the Palace’s parking lot, clicking the engine off. Danny’s already opening the car door when Steve snags his hand.
Steve’s fingers are soft, and Danny’s skin goosebumps, a shiver running down his spine. Danny watches Steve look the tattoo over, a small smile on his face.
“I like it,” Steve says, and Danny snorts.
“I didn’t get it for you,” he points out and Steve smirks, letting go of Danny’s hand to get out of the car.
It takes Danny another second before he can move, clearing his throat and flexing his hands out again, the newly inked one tingling a little still. Huh. That’s a new one.