What Would Danny Do by InSilva

Disclaimer: didn't create Rusty, didn't create Danny. Am responsible for Bryn. Remain deeply apologetic on that score.

Summary: One-shot. AU. What would have happened if events in "An Unhappy Coincidence" had gone differently. Warnings for sex and violence.

A/N: written a lifetime ago. Well, June 2008 to be precise. From time to time, otherhawk has suggested I post it - I believe her last exhortation was to convince readers that she wasn't the only one to come up with all the nasty AUs...yeah, but hers are nastier. ;) For you mate, as always. You know Mr Gower would be upset if I dedicated otherwise. ;D

A/N 2: you may wish to read "An Unhappy Coincidence" first to understand the context.

Danny tries the bathroom door handle. It is unaccountably locked. That's the first sign.

"Rus…?"

There's a silence and then…

"Yeah?"

"Pizza?"

"Yeah."

"Spicy beef with extra green peppers?"

"Sure."

Rusty's voice sounds uninterested. And that is the second sign.

Later, Danny reaches past Rusty for the whisky and- Rusty twists aside. It is involuntary and it's inconceivable and he knows as soon as he's done it that he's given himself away. Danny stares at him, slack-jawed in dawning horror.

"Rus…" he whispers.

"Get out, Danny," Rusty says flatly.

"Rusty-"

"I said get out."

"But-"

"Will you leave me alone!" The words explode from Rusty and he bundles Danny unresisting out of the room.

Danny hears the door lock behind him and leans up against the wall outside, breathing deeply and swallowing hard. This couldn't be, it couldn't be… the tightness in his chest feels like an iron hoop and then in his mind's eye, he sees once more the empty look in Rusty's eyes and thinks his breath will never come again.

"Rusty?" he knocks gently on the door. "Please. Let me in."

He ignores the passers-by who scurry past him, no doubt thinking it's a lovers' tiff.

"Rus," and he can't hide the tremor, "let me in. Please."

He waits for an interminable length of time. Then, there is a click and Danny tries the handle. It gives. He opens the door and steps inside, pushing it to again behind him. Rusty is by the window, his back to Danny.

"Don't make me, Danny," Rusty says and his voice is thick and heavy.

Danny walks silently up to his shoulder.

"And don't touch me. Please." And this time, Danny is sure he's crying.

"Rus…" Danny says with a catch in his voice. "Oh, Rusty…"

Rusty turns to face him, his mouth working overtime as he tries unsuccessfully to hold back the tears. As ever, they never need words. Danny is quite able to read Rusty's despair, the violation, the utter wretchedness consuming him, consuming them. And the tears start running down Danny's face too. He's crying for both of them.

"You told me-" he begins and breaks off as a sob rocks through him. "You told me you were safe. You told me I was in time."

It sounds harsh and accusing but it's really about the "why" not the "what" and about the "how did you ever think you were going to hide this from me and carry it by yourself". Rusty has no answer. His face crumples and Danny pulls him to him, folding him in a fierce embrace, excluding the world, holding him so tightly as if he can take away the pain and the memory by this alone.

They stay like that for the longest time. Then, somewhere over Danny's shoulder, Rusty starts to talk, his voice monotone and weary, words falling out in staccato sentences.

"They found me five minutes after you left. Bryn was waiting. He was verbal. And tactile. He told me to strip. He expected me to be co-operate. There was a camera." His mouth twists as Danny swears loudly. All in all, that point seems minor.

He goes on, "The sprinklers started. And he looked at me. Like he was deciding. And then…" Rusty swallows and Danny's grip on him tightens. "And then…he…he…"

Oh, Danny…

He breaks off and buries his head in Danny's shoulder.

"Enough," Danny soothes. "Enough, Rus. You don't have to. It's me, remember."

Rusty can't control the shaking. It racks his body. "He was just too strong," he says, his voice low and trembling. "And I tried, Danny, really I tried…" Danny realises it's important to him that Danny understands this.

"I know, Rusty, I know." Danny's hand is stroking his hair and he presses his lips to Rusty's forehead. "It wasn't your fault. It wasn't your fault."

Rusty pulls free from Danny and stands in front of him, swallowing hard.

"Danny," he says and the lead pain in his voice is raw and heart-breaking and Danny cannot bear to listen - would rather be in agony himself than hearing it - but he has to: for Rusty.

"Danny," Rusty says again and his voice cracks, "I can still feel him."

Danny blinks back the tears and forces himself to concentrate on the man hurting in front of him; the man he cares about most in this world; the man he would walk through fire for.

Rusty hides his face in his hands.

"Where do we go from here?" he asks, his voice muffled, and the hopelessness is more than Danny can bear.

"Do you trust me, Rus?"

Rusty looks up at him. What kind of a fool question is that?

"Let me take care of you."

He runs a bath and gently strips Rusty off, trying not to notice the tension in Rusty as he does so; the tension that has never been there, tension that should never be there. The marks that he himself left on Rusty are livid and Danny closes his eyes, squeezing out the memory of what it felt like to have to hurt Rusty to try to help him.

Rusty covers his hand with his. "It's OK."

Danny looks at him and crooks a smile. "It isn't. It's very, very far from fucking OK. But it will be, Rusty. I promise."

He washes him, with soap and water and tenderness and compassion. He finds a bath sheet and pulls Rusty up and out of the water, wrapping him up. Danny dries him carefully and finds him clean underwear. Then he leads him to the bed and climbs in after him, lying close, for comfort, for security, but carefully not touching him.

After a second, Rusty reaches for Danny's arm and pulls it round him.

The next day, Rusty wakes to find Danny watching him.

"No nightmare," Rusty says and because he knows Rusty will read it, Danny stops the thought in its tracks that says "You've already lived it".

Danny flashes him a smile.

Rusty's eyes grow hollow again.

Day at a time.

Rusty doesn't answer.

He is thinking about the moment when Bryn made his decision. He closes his eyes and swallows then opens them again.

"The sprinklers started," he says softly. "And he looked at me…"

Bryn lets fly with an almighty blow to the temple that knocks him back and down to his knees. Head ringing, he is dimly aware of Bryn saying, "Hold him".

And there are hands on his shoulders, and hands in his hair dragging his head upwards and he is still dazed and the water is running down his face and suddenly, without any announcement, Bryn is inside his mouth, pushing and thrusting. Rusty struggles against the hands holding him, he tries to pull away but Bryn grins down at him.

"No escape this time, fish. That pretty mouth of yours is mine."

He feels himself gagging, choking; he hears "Lucky number 7, fish, you win the prize"; there is laughter and cheers and then Bryn pulls himself free. Water running over him, Rusty starts to shake with disgust and it begins to dawn on him that Bryn hasn't finished.

Rusty's hand is on his mouth, not daring to speak, not daring to do anything for the moment. The feeling of complete horror is still live. Danny clutches his other hand, lending support, waiting for the rest, waiting with silent tears on his cheeks.

"Over."

It's one word, it is two syllables and for Rusty, it is terrifying beyond description. He tries again to escape the grip of those who are holding him but there are too many and they are too strong. He's pulled on to his front and suddenly Bryn is on top of him, weight bearing down, pinning him down like he had done on that night that seems an eon ago. He tries to free himself but Bryn is immovable, his mouth is now on the back of Rusty's neck, behind his ear, one hand forcing Rusty's left arm to the ground, the other pulling at his clothes…

Rusty lets out a sharp cry as something hard and blunt - metallic? - is forced up and inside him, twisted viciously, sadistically. This can't be happening, he tells himself, this can't be…but it is. And then whatever Bryn is using is removed and, no, please, no, make him stop…Danny…

"Did you say 'Daddy'?" Bryn asks and Rusty realises he's spoken the name aloud. "Is that what he likes you to call him?"

Rusty is biting back on the tears. He will not cry. Above all, he will not cry.

"See what you've been missing?" Bryn pants, in between brutal thrusts. "You could have had this…mmm…you could have…mmm…" and then there is silence apart from the grunts.

Rusty wants to concentrate on the smoothness of the concrete against his cheek, the rough, harsh friction of it against his hips, the pools of water forming in front of him, anything but the pain and the shame of what is actually happening. He fails.

Finally, eternally, although it has probably only been a matter of moments, Bryn comes with a shout, satisfaction and triumph mixed together.

"Rusty…" Danny begins, wanting to spare him but Rusty waves him away brusquely. If he doesn't get through this now, he never will.

Bryn doesn't withdraw. He stays inside Rusty and as Rusty's skin feels as if it wants to crawl off his body, he leans in again.

"Not the way I planned it, fish. I wanted you for longer. For more...extreme sport. But I reckon it was worth the wait."

Rusty cannot trust himself to say a thing. Bryn pulls himself free and stands up, tucking himself away.

"See, ordinarily, I'd be back in your mouth again. Have you suck off your own shit and blood. Have you lick me clean. But," he exhales regretfully, "I guess we'll have to save that for another time. Be sure to remember me to your boyfriend."

Rusty's left there alone and now the tears come. Lying there as the sprinklers rain down, he knows there will never be enough water. After a while, he looks round and finds a rag on the floor and uses it to stem the bleeding. Then, he stands shakily, pulls the sweatpants up and draws as deeply as he ever has on his resolve and his reserves. He is an actor. He can do this. He knows he won't be able to fool Danny forever, but he needs to do it right now. He cannot deal with Danny knowing in here.

"I would have-" Danny breaks off, unable to complete the thought, unable to articulate the incoherent fury that would have seized him, that is seizing him.

"I know," Rusty says with a sad smile. Of course, I know. Why do you think I tried to hide it?

Danny sees him looking so lost, so utterly vulnerable and he puts aside the feelings and thoughts he has regarding Bryn and gathers Rusty to him once again, holding him so very tightly. The tears are welling up in Rusty's eyes again and then he does the unexpected and kisses Danny fiercely, lips pressed hard against Danny's, as if he can drive away Bryn by this alone.

Surprised, Danny lets him. When Rusty finally breaks away, apology and wild confusion haunting his face, Danny smiles at him and then stops because this is beyond normal reassurance. He needs to do something to help Rusty and thus himself. He leans in and gently kisses Rusty on the mouth, little kisses of support and tenderness designed to show Rusty that they are stronger than this, that they can get through this. He slowly realises that Rusty isn't responding in any way.

Oh, fuck…

"Rusty, I'm sorry, I'm so very sorry," the words tumble from Danny as he screams at himself inwardly for his crassness.

Rusty shuts him up by leaning in and kissing him again, long and slow. Danny stays very still. When he breaks, he looks at Danny and says hesitantly, "It helps."

It helps…

Danny stares at him. Rusty will never, ever ask it of him. Danny knows he has to be the one to suggest it. He thanks some higher power that he won't wholly need words.

"Would it help if I…?"

Wide-eyed, Rusty looks at him considering, then shakes his head.

I don't expect- I wouldn't want-

Don't be ridiculous. Whatever it takes, Rusty. You know that.

"Yes," Rusty whispers finally. "I think it would."

They have breakfasted and showered and neither has bothered getting dressed. Ignoring Danny's unspoken request to take things steady, Rusty is in a hurry to make himself Rusty again and part of this is being comfortable in his own skin.

Now, they're stood by the bed facing each other, Danny, turning the foil packet over and over between his fingers and Rusty hesitantly asks, "Is this…is this going to get weird?"

Is this going to get weird? Two needless days in jail, two days being terrorised, an unforgivable assault, and now they are going to…Danny feels the laughter bubbling up through him and spilling over.

As he realises the absurdity of the question, Rusty's face relaxes into the first grin Danny has seen in days.

"Weird as opposed to what?" Danny says.

Rusty shakes his head. "Forget I asked."

Danny stretches his hand out and strokes Rusty's hair, just as he would in a moment of general tenderness. Rusty catches his hand and presses his lips briefly to Danny's wrist. Danny moves his hand to Rusty's shoulder.

"Whatever you want, Rus. You call the shots."

Rusty leans over and slowly kisses Danny. His tongue flicks against Danny's lips and Danny opens his mouth, waiting for a moment before realising exactly what Rusty wants. Damn, but he's going to have to be sharper than this. He pushes gently into Rusty's mouth and feels Rusty mould himself around his tongue. In one part of Danny, this feels so right and it takes another part of his brain to remind him why they're kissing in the first place.

Eventually, Rusty breaks off and looking at him, Danny cannot help but repeat what he did earlier and pull him close, raining little kisses around his face, wanting to kiss away the hurt. As he does so, some tension seems to leave Rusty, almost as if he is now completely happy that Danny is sanctioning their actions. He pulls Danny down to the bed and pushes him back gently on the pillows.

Let me, he says and Danny does, feeling Rusty's mouth moving over his body, trailing heat and general hotness. He is trying to stay focused but he cannot control involuntary actions, he cannot stop what his senses are experiencing, he cannot keep the blood in his veins from flowing and his body betrays him.

Rusty looks down and then up at his face and shamed apology begins to show itself in Danny's expression. Then, Rusty smiles and it is the first time in three days that Danny has seen Rusty emerge from the Rusty shell that has been walking around in his place.

Just can't help yourself, can you?

I'd like to see you try-

The thought is cut off as Rusty bends his head and without hesitation, takes Danny in his mouth, gliding over the skin, gentle, insistent pressure building.

Danny forces himself to lock down on any thoughts of pleasure. This is not what this is about, he tells himself sternly. This is about helping Rusty, not anything else, not…God…not…Danny tries desperately not to respond to whatever Rusty is doing with his tongue at that point. He is holding on to some modicum of control but this is unexpected - damn it, why hadn't he expected it? He should have done - this is Rusty, after all. With a tremendous effort, he brings his mind back on track and finds he has only to think of one word, one name, to keep away from the perils of giving in to the physicality of it all.

After what seems for Danny a lifetime in purgatory, Rusty stops and looks up at Danny's face.

Sorry.

Danny closes his eyes and swallows then opens them again to find Rusty is lying beside him.

You're sure? Danny asks and Rusty drops his gaze, nods and rolls on to his front.

Danny's hand runs lightly down his back and then his mouth follows the path his hand has made, pressing little kisses down Rusty's spine until he reaches the traumatised flesh at its base. He stares at the bruising and is grateful that Rusty can't see his face: the flashes of fury that are crossing it at the moment would not at all be helpful.

He bends his mouth to gently kiss, feeling Rusty clench as he does so.

"Sorry," Rusty says immediately and Danny continues then stops, realising there is something they've forgotten.

He is distracted from the thought by Rusty's shoulders which are shaking. Hard. Danny feels the anger well up inside him. Damn Bryn Gower! Then he realises Rusty is laughing. Laughing…?

"What?" he demands.

"My washbag," Rusty replies.

Oh. Right.

He pads off to the bathroom and returns with the tub of handcream. Rusty's lips are twitching.

You know you want to ask.

Danny tries to deny it but he can't.

"Present from Frank. Great for the cuticles. You should try it some time."

Danny digs his fingers into the pot. "Trying it now. As you were."

Rusty settles back on his front and Danny gently inserts a finger, trying to ignore the tension in Rusty as he does so. He adds another finger and feels some of the inner damage. He's going to make this worse, he suddenly realises. Rusty is going to bleed again. But he cannot stop now, not now as Rusty is finally relaxing, his body doing what his mind is telling him to do and trusting Danny.

By now, Danny isn't hard at all. Difficult to maintain that in the face of the physical aftermath. He needs to be, though, and as he applies the handcream, his mind automatically takes him to Rusty working his flesh with his mouth, doing things that made Danny shake inside…the memory does the trick and he rolls the condom on then straddles Rusty, pushing himself inside, slowly, carefully, trying to ignore the winces that he knows Rusty is carefully biting his lip to avoid vocalising.

It's new and it doesn't come naturally to him and Danny is suddenly worried that he is going to be no help whatsoever, that he is just going to make things a whole lot worse and that what seemed such a great suggestion such a short while ago is actually the stupidest thing he could have come up with. Then, Rusty shifts his hips slightly and Danny finds himself in deeper in a hurry. Rusty stifles what sounds suspiciously to Danny like a cry of pain.

"Rus…?"

In response, Rusty just arches himself backwards and then lets himself drop forward.

Right. Rhythm. Danny starts to move, carefully building up the tempo as he feels Rusty respond beneath him, an inarticulate noise emerging from Rusty's throat. He runs a hand over Rusty's back and shoulders and feels Rusty shiver with excitement. Intrigued, he repeats the action and feels Rusty come alive with his touch.

Selfishly, he instantaneously regrets it. Because Rusty kissing him is one thing, Rusty using his mouth to drive him crazy is another, but the feeling of Rusty growing uninhibited and wild underneath him is an aphrodisiac too far.

Danny forces himself to concentrate on maintaining the movement, startled as Rusty suddenly takes a proactive role, driving himself back against Danny. He can hear Rusty's breath coming in short, little pants and he realises that somehow, by luck rather than judgment, he's hitting the spot. The spot.

Wonderingly, he reaches forward again to caress Rusty's skin and the touch is almost electric.

"Fuck…Danny…"

He's not sure whether the muttered words are an instruction or an exclamation and he's not sure Rusty could actually clarify even if he wanted to.

Danny continues and tries to ignore the feelings of heat that are overpowering him, the feelings that the sight of Rusty writhing beneath him is engendering…he cannot succumb…he cannot succumb…because this isn't about him. This isn't about losing himself in wild abandon, this is about healing, this is about Rusty…Rusty who is straining and whose left hand is curling and uncurling desperately…Danny bites his lip and reaches forward to cover the hand with his.

Rusty starts to shake, momentum building and Danny finds his teeth nearly going through his lip watching him. The enforced restraint is redefining agony. And then finally, finally, Rusty comes, calling out incoherently, fingers wrapped in Danny's. The climax rocks through both their bodies and Danny feels himself in serious danger of losing control. For Rusty, for Rusty, he tells himself. When Rusty eventually stops moving, Danny carefully withdraws and moves aside, trying his best not to look at the blood.

Breathing heavily, Rusty rolls on to his back and looks down his front.

"It just never gets any less messy, does it?" He looks over at Danny through his lashes and he smiles a hazy, sated smile that makes Danny catch his breath as he sits back. A post-coital Rusty is close to irresistible.

"Thank you," Rusty says, sitting up.

Danny is blinking. A lop-sided grin appears on Rusty's face.

"You're quite welcome," Danny manages.

"No," Rusty leans in close and Danny swallows. "I mean thank you." He spells it out with his eyes.

Danny exhales and tries to ignore the headiness threatening to overwhelm him.

It wasn't easy.

I know.

The gleam in Rusty's eyes is furiously bright.

Rusty…

Rusty ignores the warning and kisses him. Briefly, tenderly. Fabulously.

"Not. Fair," Danny growls as Rusty pulls away.

Rusty looks chastened. Sorry. He stands up and heads for the shower.

Danny lies back on the bed and looks up at the ceiling, trying to bring his mind back down from the heights.

As Danny walks out of the bathroom, he finds Rusty, dressed in a suit and blue shirt that Danny thinks even he could live with, at the window, looking out at the sun and the street. He is resting against his right elbow and he is holding the can of Coke to his temple in a familiar pose.

He turns round as Danny enters and smiles, slow and lazy: a recognisable Rusty smile. He watches as Danny dresses. As Danny sits on the edge of the bed to pull his socks on, Rusty sits down alongside him.

"So. How are we doing?" Danny asks in a low voice, concentrating on pulling the sock over his toes.

He feels the smile widen and acquire a bittersweet tinge and when he looks at Rusty he sees that impression has been completely correct.

"I won't forget," Rusty says quietly. "I can't forget."

And that is true. Rusty always remembers everything - names, voices, faces, places…Danny learned that long ago. And that means the hell Bryn put him through isn't going to fade anytime soon.

"But," Rusty goes on, "every time I don't forget, I'll also remember."

He looks Danny straight in the eyes as he delivers it, hiding nothing. Danny feels the weight of that openness and the trust and the belief and it kills him. There is nothing he can say, nothing he can think, except that, of course, this is a two-way street.

Rusty leans in and once more seeks his mouth with his. Danny remains motionless. Abruptly, Rusty pulls back.

"This once," he says holding up a finger, "this one time, you can let go. OK?"

OK…

And then they are kissing, wonderfully, amazingly and it seems as if neither of them wants to be the one to end it. Eventually, Rusty breaks it, closing his eyes and leaning his forehead against Danny's.

Don't you ever go anywhere.

Danny smiles. "No one else will have me."

Rusty opens his eyes and sits back. "Well, I see your point."

"Although," Danny waves a hand at the candy wrappers scattered around the floor, "I'm not sure anyone else would take you on. You give untidy a whole new meaning."

"But I'm worth it," Rusty grins. And Danny can't deny that.

Bryn Gower is feeling pleased with himself. He's had his sentence commuted and he is out, free. At last. He feels he has a lot of catching up to do.

A luxury car with tinted windows is parked outside the prison and he heads towards it, pleased that he is being collected in style. He opens the back door and sticks his head inside.

"Nice choice…" he begins and tails off as he sees Danny sitting inside.

"Get in," Danny says and shows him the persuasion he is holding.

Bryn looks at the gun with the silencer and then up at Danny's face. It is something in the latter which makes his mind up and he slides in alongside Danny.

"So, this is unexpected," Bryn says. His eyes glance across to the sealed off driver's compartment. "Is that where he is? Is he waiting to welcome me too?"

Danny says nothing, just reaches across and bangs on the window. The car moves off.

"He told you, then," Bryn begins. "I thought he would. Expect he came running to you to share the details. Bet he didn't tell you how much he enjoyed it though. He likes it rough, I can tell. Likes the feel of someone taking him, owning him, owning that pretty mouth of his…"

"You talk too much," Danny says mildly.

Bryn tries again.

"I'd lay money he likes being tied up too. I think he likes that feeling of helplessness. I think he likes being hurt, likes being forced. I think-"

"You also think too much."

Giving up, Bryn narrows his eyes. "So what? You going to kill me?"

"I'm going to leave you alive."

"You going to shoot me?"

"Not if you co-operate."

"What's this about then?"

Danny smiles the smile that if you knew him you'd be rightly scared of. "I want us to go some place to talk."

"But you're not going to kill me?"

"No," and Danny's face grows serious. "Because one day, I may have to tell him about today. And we might get round to him asking me if I killed you. He's going to look me in the eyes and he's going to know if I'm lying. And I don't want him carrying around any ridiculous guilt that he's somehow responsible for my actions."

"Uh-huh. Don't you think you just gave away your hand?"

Danny nodded towards the gun. "Like to test your theory?"

They drive on for a while and then the car stops.

"Out," Danny instructs and Bryn emerges, blinking, into a desert.

"What is this?" Bryn wants to know. "Assassination mob-style?"

"I have my own style," Danny corrects him and for the first time, Bryn feels a little prickle of fear.

"You got a spade? Expect me to dig my own grave?"

"Nothing that ordinary. I'd like you to start as you wanted him to. By stripping."

"Want to see what your boyfriend got?" Bryn leers. "He got plenty, I can assure you."

"Strip."

"He had no complaints. Made me wonder what he was getting off you."

"I'll ask for the last time. Strip."

"You think I'm going to dance to your tune?" Bryn sneers. "You think I'm going to roll over for you?"

Danny sighs. "OK. We'll do this your way."

Bryn looks suspicious. "What does that mean?"

Without warning, Danny coldcocks him across the temple with the butt of the gun and Bryn sinks into unconsciousness, surprise on his face.

When he comes to, he's naked. He's laying face-up, spreadeagled on the ground, hands and ankles chained and pegged.

"Well," Bryn says, "what do you reckon? See what I fed him? Impressive, isn't it?"

"For someone in your position, you don't have much humility."

Bryn rattles the chains. "This supposed to frighten me? Am I supposed to be begging for mercy?"

Danny shrugs. "You tell me."

"I'm not frightened. I'm not begging. I'm not even hurting. Amateur. You haven't a clue."

Danny bends down so that his face is close to Bryn's. "You made the biggest mistake of your life when you touched him. You're the one who's clueless."

He produces a knife that looks wickedly sharp and Bryn regards it scornfully.

"I'm shaking."

"You should be."

Without warning, Danny reaches down in between Bryn's legs and Bryn starts to struggle.

"Let's not be hasty," he says quickly.

Danny just smiles and wields the knife. Bryn's scream is long and loud and profane. Danny looks down dispassionately and drops the knife and Bryn's previous pride and joy down by Bryn's right ear. He kneels down by Bryn's side.

"Chances of anyone finding you out here, slim. If they do, chances of you ever forcing yourself on anyone again, non-existent. Either way, he's safe."

He stands up and heads back to the car.

"Wait, you wanted to talk, I can talk," Bryn says in spite of the pain, in spite of the blood.

Danny stops and turns back. "Not if I cut out your tongue," he says softly and Bryn closes his mouth.

"Better," Danny says and climbs back in the car and drives away.

Bruiser takes the gun and drops him off and Danny opens the door to find Rusty unpacking some takeout.

"Enough there for me?" Danny asks and Rusty considers.

"Possibly. Depends how hungry you are."

Danny grins. "Oh, I've got an appetite."