"Not yet!" Danny calls back when he opens one of the drawers and digs out the apron that'll cover his torso and front, but not much of the back at all. Once it's on, he rids the briefs and tosses them over the back of the couch (he's made sure, of course) that the front door's locked.

"Grilled fish and potato casserole sound okay?" he calls out, but only once he's been making that for five minutes, getting the oven ready.