Daniel knows. Daniel has known. Maybe as far back as the bar in San Fransisco, looking up at Louis' boyfriend and feeling like he'd heard a dog whistle chime. Curiosity. What's going on there.

Foreshadowing. That's what was going on there.

No image to ruin. Daniel knew that Armand was an ancient monster made of hunger the second he looked at him floating over. Maybe sooner. How many names of god. Do you know them all, or just the number. Do you have an answer for everything, an excuse for everything. Why do you say electronic mailbox.

Daniel's head is spinning. He comes back to this plane of existence, or at least a little, when he smells blood. This time, he does rest his hand on Armand, against the knee bracketing him.

"That's starting to become convenient."

A funny joke about how Armand is always the one giving him the headache.