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Grasping at his side Danny stumbles forward, following the maze of rotting wood. His boots make a loud squelch in the mud with each step, alerting anyone clearly where he was even if he hadn’t had that spectacular blowout anyways.
“Fuckin’- dumb bitch.” He mutters between gritted teeth. He’s going to rip chunks of Nea’s hair out when he gets his hands on her. He hisses when his foot gets caught on whatever refuse is down in the bowels of the ‘pantry’ and slams into the stone wall in the center, throwing him even more off kilter.
The trial had started out fine. Sure, it was located in one of his least favorite areas, the muddy swamp of Blackwater hard to trudge through and those awful, shoddy shacks for structures. But he could live. He could work with it.
Of course, after you get your first sneaky little grab, all bets are off for pulling that off again. Survivors always wise up at this point, used to his stealth and always more hyper aware once they figure out it’s him. But still- bareable. Haddie gets grabbed, gets hooked, no gens, life is good.
Until some little rat wearing a neon shirt and beanie flashes you in your eyes of course.
He grumbles to himself all the way through the maze; what would have been a short tromp feeling an extra 10 minutes longer thanks to his bruised side and twisted ankle. Fuck- he’s going to kill Nea.
Twisting his head around he hears the last generator surge to life.
Well- it was now or never he supposed. They were only missing one member, but he could make up for it. He could make them even. Nea hadn’t healed just yet, if he could just cut her off before she reached the gate- yes that should work. He’s made it work before.
He bites the inside of his cheek as he breaks out in a light jog, his ankle screaming for him to stop. Moments like these are when he thanks his overzealous father for everything he taught him- He would have gotten nowhere in his career without him.
He sees before he hears the red lights of the gate being powered, and tries to steady his gait so it’s not obvious to the survivors how badly he’s hurt. A smile tugs on his lips through the pain when he sees a flash of fear in Claudette’s eyes when she peeks over her shoulder and sees him stomping towards her. She leaves the gate in a hurry, but not before breaking the entity-given shroud of silence around him.
He hums- lost cause with her, she’s not nearly close enough to letting her guard down. He swings his head to scan the area to see if anyone else is lingering before he spots a limping figure in the shallow valley of mud between gates.
Fucking got you.
He sprints as fast as he can with a twisted ankle and bruised ribs, breath heaving louder than normal. Fuck being stealthy at this point- game’s over. He just needs to get one last little punch in. Can’t have the sheep thinking they have it easy. Nea wouldn’t shut the fuck up about it if he did.
He’s not surprised when Nea sees him clearly sprinting towards her and breaks out in a run herself. It’s not hard to catch up with both of them injured- but he has to stop himself from fixating on how this chase would have been over already if he wasn’t when he follows her back to the large rickety wooden building he lost her the first time.
First time- first time was a freak mistake, an accident. He would have gotten her if the entity didn’t find sick joy in being the universe's worst architect.
The floorboards were rotten enough, maybe he should just be thankful they’ve never broken underneath his weight before today. He had put too much on one foot, trying to reach that extra inch to stab Nea in the back when the ground suddenly gave way to an awful crack like thunder and his bottom half fell through. He landed on mud instead of stone thankfully, but not before slamming his head against the wood from the momentum of his fall.
Nea’s bewildered smile was the last thing he saw before his weight dragged him down under. He’s not going to live that down any time soon. He huffs up the stairs behind Nea, pushing down any needless anxiety about the floorboards giving away a second time. He doesn’t have time to be nervous- he has as many seconds as it takes to open up that last ¾ of the door.
He narrows his eyes when they run past the new conspicuously one-person sized hole in the floorboards. He just has to swing. One swing and it’s over. He can feel the sweat sliding down the back of his neck as the reach a narrow path and the adrenaline numbs everything else when he lifts his knife and the world narrows to the bare neck in front of him and-
His knife stabs into his own thigh violently when the heavy wooden pallet drops. He can’t help the strangled cry he lets out, though the pain hasn’t registered just quite yet.
“Holy shit- hah!” Nea shifts on her feet, looking back and laughing breathlessly as she watches Danny struggle. “That’s- That’s what you get!” She does a fake punch in his direction. “Not so fun, is it?” Glee is the only emotion on her sweaty face. It pisses Danny off more than it should.
Danny rips the knife clean out of his leg, spraying his own blood across the pallet and onto the girl’s face.
“I’ll happily show you what’s fun, Nea.” He growls and lunges forward- a fake out but enough to scare Nea into scrambling back and jumping off the wooden house.
He feels acceptance settle in his bones as the survivors run to freedom, leaning on the wooden board. Everything aches- his vision fuzzy as the ground breaks apart and the timer chimes loudly in the air. He wanted so, so bad to make them even- to strike fear into them. He huffs a soft chuckle as he sits down.
Pain from his stab wound is finally settling in, webbing out and paralyzing his leg from working properly. He doesn’t even want to think what Nea is telling the others- what she will tell the others as they sit around the campfire and gossip. What stupid little character he’ll become in their minds.
The world fades while he lays there and feels sorry for himself, the swamp trading itself for the grassy field they all find themselves after trials. No one is around him when he looks up from the ground. He still makes no move to get up. Maybe if he makes no movements the entity wouldn’t notice him- would leave him to bleed out and die. He would only be so lucky.
He eventually stumbles his way into standing when the prickles on the back of his neck grow to be too much. Whispers in his head that urge him to pick himself up with increasing pressure. It does no favors to his bruised and battered body to have a migraine on top of everything.
Danny makes his way slowly to the nearby tree line, fog swirling around in a lazy river by him. He hisses every time he puts just a little too much pressure on his twisted ankle and feels lucky he at least stabbed his already busted leg. He could have taken both legs out of commission. Blood still wells up from where it’s slightly clotted thanks to him walking and ignoring his open wound.
“Ugh. Would it kill you to at least patch me up?” He says to the fog around him. Nothing answers but wind.
“Figures.” He grumbles. Of course the entity would punish him for being hurt on the job. Not like it needs him or anything. He sighs and continues limping, resting periodically on trees as he goes. The Campfire- dubbed by people here longer than him- is never too far from the fields. Most things weren’t. Space was strange in this place, usually thinking of a destination and walking straight would lead you there eventually.
He’s not even sure the Campfire is where he wants to be though. He knows the last survivors he saw would more than likely be lingering about. Dwight would be gloomy from being the only one to die and Nea- Nea would be a pain in his ass.
The decision is made for him quickly enough while he’s distracted debating with himself when the flickering light of the fire suddenly grows clear as the fog recedes around him. Danny makes no move to move any closer from the thin tree line when it does, leaning heavily against a tree and observing.
Not many killers lingering about- only Amanda and Susie fiddling with something behind a log, giggling with Feng.
Not many survivors either- only a handful speaking amongst themselves or relaxing before their next trial.
Danny does spot Nea soon enough, moving her hands while retelling some kind of story to Adam and Felix. He has a pretty good idea what her story is about when her hands collide and one keeps sliding forward then plummets. He feels his neck heat up at that and at the smiles on all their faces. He needs to leave before they spot him standing there watching her mock him. He can’t even retaliate out here, not with his injuries and Entity interference. The heat on his neck creeps higher the more he fumes and is stuck where he stands, thinking of all the ways he would-
“What are you doing?”
Danny flicks his head to the side violently at the sudden voice next to him. Jane stands there, eyebrows furrowed and lips quirked to the side.
“What’s it look like?” He refuses to admit to being startled.
Jane’s eyes flicker between him and the Campfire. She shifts her weight to prop a hand on her hip. “Like you’re pouting.”
“Pouting.” Danny deadpans. Jane starts to give him a light smirk at that.
“Pouting, yes. If you weren’t I’m sure they would look a whole lot more put out- with you right in the middle of them.” Jane’s smiling now, tilting her head to point at the small gathering. He refuses to believe she’s right.
“Why don’t you worry about you?” He spits out, “I don’t see your little friends trailing you.” Danny waves his finger around in a circle, “Rough one, huh?”
Jane drops her smile at that and crosses her arms across her stomach. “Clown wanted me gone.” She shrugs and turns to look at the small fire. She doesn’t make any move to leave though.
Jane was so magnetic, she has no problem fitting herself into any social situation. Her confidence was undiminishable- something those survivors around the fire flocked to. She had no reason to continue standing on the outskirts when she would be welcomed with open arms- standing here with Danny barely holding on by a thread, something Danny decides to shove into a corner of his mind.
He grunts elegantly in lue of actually replying. His breath is still coming out heavy. Each slight movement sends sparks of pain from multiple points on his body. The next grunt is less of a reply and more of a swallowing of a groan as he pushes himself off the tree.
Jane’s eyes flick back to him at his movement and widen. “What happened to you?” She lifts a hand in an awkward attempt to steady Danny but stops short of actually touching his arm.
“A rat.” Danny wheezes. Jane lifts an eyebrow at him. “Big rat.” He nods and it makes the world spin a little bit.
“You lost a fight with a… rat?” She gives him a small smile, “Really?” Her tone teasing and light again.
“Lives in the woods. I’d sleep with one eye open.” He starts to back away without turning his head around. The pain has reached the point that he’s pretty sure he’d throw up if he moved too fast. But he can’t stay- he needs to lick his wounds away from all this.
Danny doesn’t get very far before Jane really does reach out this time and puts a hand on his arm, stopping him in his tracks.
“Stay here, I’ll grab a kit real quick, okay?” She sounds worried which strikes a cord of distrust within Danny. Jane narrows her eyes like she can see the wheels turning behind his mask. “I mean it. You look like crap and your whole leg is bloody. Do not leave.” She squeezes his arm and Danny feels it in his throat.
At the comment he finally looks down and sees she’s not wrong, there’s a nice deep gash in his leg that he keeps reopening every time he moves and now it looks gorey and wet with blood. The black of his pants does a well enough job to hide most of the blood, but it’s slowly reaching over saturation of red in small spots.
Jane has already left in the time it took Danny to register his own injuries, waving at the few people who noticed her arrival but ultimately walking straight past them. Danny stumbles and ducks behind the tree he was previously leaning on- he didn’t want to be caught by Nea. He bites back his curses in exchange for a low hiss as he gossles his leg.
It doesn’t take long for Jane to find a health kit- her own little section of the campsite filled to the brim with collected, gifted and stolen items they would need. She ducks through the flimsy tent flap and grabs one quickly, chest buzzing with anxiety about the man she left to bleed out. Granted, said man has done that to almost every person here at least one time- but never to her. She doesn’t fumble the pack at all when she rushes back out of her tent and toward the woods, ignoring and deflecting the few curious stares towards her.
Danny’s eye peeks open when he hears rustling heading his direction. He doesn’t know when he squeezed them shut against the pain, but his mask does it’s job of hiding his grimaces from Jane.
“No need to rush for little old me,” He grits out tougher than he intended- maybe he was way more banged up than he previously thought.
“Couldn’t stand to hear you whine even more.” Jane retorts back, her smile giving away her teasing. “Now, do you think you can walk, or do you want me to patch you up right here?” She asks, looking at the dirty forest floor. She’s not sure that infection was a thing for them anymore honestly.
“I can stand- I can totally do that.” Danny grunts as he starts to push himself off the ground. His whole body screams at him to stop, ribs aching with each labored heavy breath and whole right leg paralyzed besides the constant waves of pain. Even his head is starting to feel fuzzy, slamming it hard into multiple hard objects doing him no favors.
“Standing is different from walking Danny, do you think you could make it to Haddonfield?” Jane grabs his shoulders to steady him. That was the only realm she could think of that wasn’t completely grime and dirt. The hospital was more of a health hazard than Haddonfeild’s spacious houses.
“Haddonfield… Haddonfield..” Danny mumbles to himself, trying to think how far that would be from their location. It would be a walk- a walk that Danny wasn’t sure he would make given how his body is slowly giving up on him. He doesn’t even know why he feels like he’s being hit with everything now, pathetically groveling and whining with Jane’s mere presence.
“Sure. I can do that.” Danny braces himself. “If you’re sure-“ Jane catches him mid stumble, shifting to put his weight less on his leg and more against her side. The whole line of his side touching Jane feels like fire- another addition to his ailments. Jane maneuvers his arm to wrap around her shoulders, their heights nearly identical making it easy.
“Come on- it shouldn’t be too far.” Jane grunts as they begin to walk in a random direction. She’s just glad Danny isn’t massive like the Trapper or Myers, fitting snugly against her side. He feels even lighter than she had- would have imagined.
Danny next to her makes no comment. He’s too concentrated on keeping his bile pushed down to savor the moment of Jane doing her best. The silence unnerves Jane more than she’d like to admit, Danny’s usual chatter and snide comments easing tension in her shoulders she doesn’t know she has until he leaves.
They make their way through the forest faster than Danny had on his own, the gates to Haddonfeild breaking the endless sea of trees within minutes. Jane is so glad about the small conveniences when she gets them.
The street is empty when they stumble through like usual. They both eye the worn down house located directly in the middle of the right side houses- Myers’ haunt and home. But neither of them see him standing outside, nor do they want to figure out if he’s out at a trial (unlikely) or lurking inside the walls (extremely likely) and as quickly as Danny’s busted leg allows them to, they shuffle to the nearest empty house.
They both grunt as Danny gets plopped onto the couch, a puff of dust accompanying it.
“Whew- we made it.” Jane beams down at him, wiping sweat off her forehead. Her proud little stance tickles Danny’s chest in a weird way and not for the last time he’s glad his mask is on as he returns her goofy smile.
“My savor, dumping me on a couch.” He sounds embarrassingly breathless. Taking a deep breath he lays down, head resting on the arm of the couch with his injured leg falling off the couch. Exhaustion hits him again for the second time- this time he really will throw up if she wants to move him again.
“Har Har, be glad I didn’t dump you in a river.” She teases and sits down, taking the moment of opening the health kit as a breather. “Only if you joined me.” He wheezes.
“Hm, tempting.” Jane responds without thinking, too preoccupied with pulling out items from the health pack. Gauze, alcohol wipes, cotton balls- all more important than seeing Danny go still where he lays, a hand tightened where it grips the worn fabric of his jacket covered stomach. He feels even more dizzy if that’s even possible at this point.
“Really?”
Jane shoots him a look from where she’s kneeling beside the couch. Danny progressively looks more and more pathetic and like a wet cat to her, but in a weird charming way she supposed. Like he was a wet cat who only wanted some place warm to curl up.
“…Sure. I haven’t been swimming in ages, maybe since I was 13.” Jane never had the time to go swimming. There was always school and jobs and rehearsals and- in any case not enough time to spare the older she got.
“Ah, me neither. Surprising given Florida is about 80% water.” Danny hisses when Jane finally starts to work on his wounded leg, using the medical scissors to cut a nice semi-neat square out of his pant leg to see his knife puncture better. It doesn’t look any better, worse actually. Walking around probably wasn’t one of his better ideas.
Jane blinks in surprise at the crumb of information Danny reveals about himself. “Florida huh?” She tries to stay casual about it, Danny usually so elusive about his past- finding it amazing how little he truly gives away versus how much he talks.
“Mhm. Humid down there. You would hate it.” He blinks hard and bites his lip when Jane presses a fresh alcohol wipe against him to clean the blood away. Fuck why does that sting so much. He takes a deep breath and it sounds louder with the mask on still.
“I’m sure there’s nice things in Florida.. like..” Jane pauses to think and open a new wipe. “Sunshine.” She finishes her sentence the same time Danny replies with “Crocodiles.”
“I would not visit Florida for the crocodiles- in fact crocodiles are the reason I stay away from Florida.” She chuckles. The wound is mostly cleaned now, showing Danny’s pale skin instead of a bloody red mess. It’s still bleeding, but it’s slowed to a sludgy pace.
“But they’re so cute.” Danny feels himself relax the second Jane stops torturing him with the alcohol wipe.
“Dogs are cute, crocodiles are evil. Now hold on this is going to sting really bad, sorry.” Jane unscrews the cap to the Isopropyl bottle and grabs a cotton ball, dousing both Danny’s leg and the cotton with it. Danny just hisses even louder and squeezes his stomach, clenching his whole body.
“Thanks for warning a guy, pumpkin.” He mutters when he recovers from the pain. He feels like his breaths are getting simultaneously harder and louder. The mask isn’t helping matters either. He quickly weighs the pros and cons of removing it so he could feel a little bit less hot. On one hand- he’s never removed it in front of survivors before, on the other it’s Jane. And breathing easier too he guesses. But then the cat and mouse thing they had going on would be a little less exciting- with her seeing his face.
Without overthinking it Danny pulls the mask and shawl off of him. There’s no ceremony to it, where he places the mask on the floor next to the couch. He blinks up at the ceiling before looking down at Jane without the filter of his mask's black eye sockets.
Stray hairs knocked loose from her bun frame her face, and Danny feels like taking his fingers and pushing them away. Jane’s prim eyebrows are furrowed slightly in concentration, her painted lips in a frown as she works. Danny’s scared to admit he’s memorized the way they form when she speaks his name, when she smiles and pulls her lips, and the way her eyes narrow and her makeup does it’s best to hide her aging crows feet.
Jane’s still focusing on the knife wound, dabbing it to make sure the Isopropyl gets in deep to clear out any bacteria. He stays still as possible, staring at her. Excitement coils in his stomach the longer she doesn’t notice him unmasked and watching her. He can’t wait to see her reaction, suddenly wishing he had thought to pull out his camera before taking the mask off to document such a pivotal moment.
It takes a minute before Jane is satisfied with the cleanliness of the stab. She hums and goes to rummage through the pack once again, this time for a cotton pad she could put over the opening before wrapping it tight. It would have to be over his pants of course- she’s not even going to broach that loaded idea.
All the while Danny is staring at her, quiet. He basks in the familiar feeling of the rush he gets from being there but unseen. His head is dizzy with it. And maybe a concussion too. Semantics. Jane hasn’t bothered responding to his pet name for her- seeing it for the teasing it is. He hopes she gives him a good reaction for this. It’s the least she could do really.
Jane takes notice when Danny stops squirming, laying still and silent. It unnerves her in the back of her mind, not unlike how he is during trials. Silently watching and waiting for them to slip up. Trials with him leaving a sense of unease and that she should be looking over her shoulder at all times. She guesses that’s what Danny wants in a way though, to feel as if they’re being watched.
She pushes down the warning feeling though and instead focuses on finishing the wrapping the wound. It could be Myers as well, they trespassed on his realm anyways. There’s no reason why it would be Danny when he’s right there in front of her-
She chances a glance up to where she expects a gastly face looking down at her only to be met with a man in its place. It surprises her enough that she accidentally yanks hard on the knot she was working on- the wrapping too tight to be comfortable now. The man’s face twitches in response and then grins.
The man’s face has a faint shine with sweat in the dim lighting of the dilapidated living room. His cheeks are narrow and covered in a light dusting of dark stubble, matching his dark, short and scruffy hair. A scar rests above one dark eyebrow above even darker eyes framed with tiredness. The man looks mid-thirties and his frown lines cut through his cheeks when he smiles.
Jane feels her cheeks heat from embarrassment. She should have expected he would pull this really; revealing his face when she least anticipated and when they were all alone is typical. She mentally pinches herself to stop her thoughts from wandering towards how Danny’s hair would be soft if washed and how pale he is and if his hands look as worn and broken in.
“Hello Jane, it’s just me. I don’t need to give you my name all over again, do I?” Danny chuckles and leans back against the couch arm, crossing his arms over his stomach. “I’m a little hurt by you, you know?” He continues.
“… Meaning?” Jane brushes off any surprise left in her. She sits back on her haunches and begins repackaging the first aid kit, methodically placing each item. Staring at the bottle labels is far easier than meeting Danny’s heavy stare. The mask filtered Danny from the rest of the world, and now Jane was what the world revolved around. There was no buffer anymore, nothing to stop Jane from staring right back and memorizing the man on the couch. And that Jane wanted to stare back at all made her fingers feel numb.
“Normally there’s much more fear and awe seeing the man behind the mask.” Jane lifts an eyebrow at that and looks up through her eyelashes at him. “Is the man behind the mask normally bleeding out on a couch?” She retorts, smirking and going back to the task at hand when she sees Danny huff and rolls his eyes.
Jane feels queasy, being able to even see Danny’s reactions. She knows a line has been crossed that can’t be uncrossed in this room, something that can’t be ignored and teased about, but real and tangible. It makes her stomach roll with emotions she doesn’t want to even begin to sort out- doesn’t even know where to even start with.
Her attention is brought back to Danny when he shifts, swinging his legs off and planting them on the ground in front of her. He groans as he sits up and runs a gloved hand through his sweaty hair, making it even more messy. Jane fights the urge to smooth his hair down back into place.
“Well you can cross off bleeding thanks to my wonderful, lovely host here.” His smile is crooked on his face, as if it’s more used to maliciously smirking than anything genuine. “Thanks for not leaving me for dead in the woods, pumpkin.”
Danny watches Jane as she stands and brushes off the permanent dirt off her pants. Her face obscured by constantly looking down at something more interesting than himself. He wasn’t lying when he said she hurt him, she bruised his ego. He certainly thought he wasn’t that bad looking. He feels the trickle of cold water from a bucket on his head the longer Jane avoids looking at him, avoids sharing her gaze with his, avoids everything they ever were together. He doesn’t think their poor hearts could take it.
Danny knows his stare is heavy when Jane sits down a foot away from him and flicks her brown eyes towards him. He knew their color before, but with his mask off they seem much richer with color now. She brings a hand up to start cleaning her long nails of any dried blood.
“You’re welcome Danny. I would have done the same for anyone.” Jane shrugs off his statement, playing the ever altruist. Danny leans closer, his back sliding and making a clear rustle against the fabric of the couch. He would be annoyed if he didn’t want Jane to be aware of him, of his proximity and his willingness to be known and bare to her.
“Would you?” He asks, voice just above a whisper. That makes Jane finally look at him again, bless him with her warm eyes. Danny thanks any entity he can think of that there’s a light in the room, that he can see her face full of life and her eyes flicker across his features. He wants to know what she’s thinking when she looks at him, what story she has in her mind about him. He wants her to be as open with him as he is with her and he wants them to be so irrevocably interwoven that they’ll never be apart.
Jane struggles. She struggles to cling onto the past, before tonight when there was still a physical wall separating them. She doesn’t know what drove Danny to take that step- over her patching him up over his stupid mistake no less. He should have been fuming, throwing a tantrum over it all and keeping his walls high and guarded. Not throw in the towel and be so… so close. Jane bites the inside of her cheek as she meets his stare, not knowing how to play the game anymore. Was it even a game at this point? Was she losing?
“No- not for Ash.” She gives a small smile, something Danny returns in kind.
“So I’m not special?”
“Not in the slightest.”
Danny’s eyes crinkle with his grin. Jane can’t look away now, his eyes such a deep brown they look like holes. She thinks she can remember the curve of his cheeks at this point, that he has one chipped incisor tooth and that his hair is longer than she thought it would be at the base of his neck.
“So you wouldn’t mind then?” Danny tilts his head, equally refusing to even glance away from Jane. He hasn’t moved any closer than being pressed against her shoulder on the couch, but Jane can’t help but notice the distance.
“You need to work on finishing your sentences.” Jane is the first to break their staring contest, looking at her nails to check for blood again. They look as clean as they’ll ever get in this place, clean enough to touch her hair as she tugs out her loose bun.
Jane shakes her hair loose and breaths a sign, relaxing her shoulders. Danny accepts her leaving because she’s proven she’ll always come back, always look at him again. Danny accepts a lot of things to get Jane to look at him. Where would the fun be if he didn’t make sure she accepted all of him as well?
Jane tenses when Danny shifts next to her, shoulders rubbing together on the dirty couch. She’s more petrified to tear her gaze away from we’re it’s locked on her knees than anything, but she manages.
Next to her Danny has fished out a half squashed cigarette and lighter, his arm brushing against hers as he brings the stick to his unmasked mouth and clicks the lighter to life. Jane watches in silence- Her body feels like it’s hanging by a wire in suspension. She watches him take a drag and look at her. The glow of the cigarette’s end hangs between their faces, and Jane’s hit with the familiar stench of smoked tar that Danny’s cheap cologne can never quite cover.
He grins like Jane’s discovered some huge secret and breaths out, plumes of smoke escaping his mouth and nostrils.
“If I smoked, pumpkin. What else? Didn’t think I had to spell out everything.” Danny flicks the end of the stick and lets the ash fall onto the floor. Not like it was getting any cleaner.
Jane can’t even say what she was expecting, but a huff of a laugh escapes her in surprise anyways. She doesn’t want to wonder what she was waiting for.
Jane feels herself reaching her opposite arm across them both and nab the cigarette before she could even think about her action. Danny blinks at her and raises both eyebrows when Jane leans closer with his stolen cigarette.
“Without sharing? Of course I mind.” Jane smiles, putting the stick up to her own mouth and leaning back to exhale the smoke at least outwardly, not wanting to cloud Danny’s blotchy pink cheeks with gray smoke. She’s well aware of a lot of things Danny doesn’t think she is. That left pulling out the rug sometimes more fun.