(no subject)

Danny's pretty sure that one day, and one day soon, Steve's going to end up snapping and cutting off the beard in his sleep. Truthfully, Danny's pretty enamored of the damn thing, though that might have a great heaping deal to do with the fact that he got to grow it out alongside his hair and nothing's compelled him to shave it off lately.

Still, as he tries on vests and pants in the bedroom of the hut, he wonders if Rachel's going to have his head on a platter if he shows up to her wedding with scruff that could serve as the envy of the general population. "Steve?" he calls, poking his head out of the bedroom as he unknots his tie and unbuttons the vest, searching through the pile on the bed for the next combination. "Did the SEALs teach you to match? Hell, the boy scouts, whatever, I need a second opinion over wedding attire," he summons, snapping his fingers.

Zulu comes running, so at least one thing under the roof listens to him.