Morning comes too soon with a call from Kono, breathless with excitement. She'd called Jenna – who was away doing some CIA stuff and wouldn't be back for another three weeks – to ask if she'd ever heard of or seen anything like this before. After asking Kono to repeat herself six dozen times, she'd finally done some quick research on mushrooms and magical properties of foods. Danny just sat gap-mouthed as he listened, half-way between screaming with joy and weeping. Steve was underneath Danny's shirt, clinging to his chest for dear life, and for the life of him Danny couldn't be bothered to care that Steve was ripping his chest hair out by the roots.
Dressing quickly and stuffing Steve unceremoniously into the breast pocket of a clean shirt, Danny grabbed his notes and books and hurried out the door. If they could get Steve back to normal by the end of the day, it would be like a Five-0 world record or something. He didn't wanna get his hopes up, but he wasn't ready to be despondent just yet, either.
As it would turn out, the stuff Steve had been splashed with was synthetic, but held the same properties as a very special type of mushroom found in the wilds of Scotland.
“It's so rare, only a handful of people in the world know about it,” Jenna explained via video feed, her voice punctuated by snaps of her gum. “And when concentrated down, it can have the same sort of... effects... as it had on Steve.”
“I'm missing why it's a synthetic and not just... mushroom juice,” Danny said, frowning.
“Because the mushroom itself is actually poisonous. They're sort of small, but pack a whallop; a small bite could easily kill a child and make an adult very ill. Eating an entire mushroom... well, let's just say you'll never eat another one. They're even poisonous to handle; touching one develops into a rash that can get very painful. Also, once it's cut open, it expels fumes; it's almost impossible to handle, though it has been studied. That's the only way to know what it's properties are and therefore how to replicate them.”
Danny's head felt like it was spinning. “Ok wait, are you really telling me someone created fake mushroom juice and threw it on Steve so he'd shrink down into a faerie?”
“Well, when you put it like that,” Chin said, rolling his eyes.
“They weren't intending for it to turn him into anything,” Jenna said, nose wrinkling with distaste. “It was supposed to be a bit more final than all that. Obviously the properties of the synthetic didn't match the original because if they had, Steve would be dead.”
Kono, Chin, and Danny all turn to stare at Steve, who was sitting on the edge of the surface table, facing the screen where Jenna's image was. Danny had never been so glad to believe in faeries in his whole life.
“Now that we know what did it, how do we undo it?” Kono asked, tone no-nonsense.
“Right,” Jenna said, shuffling through some papers out of frame. “An antidote was created, in the event some poor farmer or something accidentally did touch or ingest the mushroom. It's potent, powerful and only requires one dose to cure whatever ailment the mushroom caused.”
“... but?” Steve said, finally speaking.
“But as the mushroom only grows in Scotland, the only place the antidote is available is Scotland.” Jenna said, shoulder slumping a little.
“But this was synthetic mushroom juice,” Kono grumbled. “That can be made anywhere.”
“Doesn't matter,” Jenna shook her head. “The synthetic compound is clearly illegal, because no way would a government sanctioned program try and replicate this thing. Steve can be fixed, but you'll have to get in touch with the Scottish version of Poison Control in order to get the antidote.”
“Unless the perps already had some, in the event one of them came into contact with the compound,” Chin murmured. “They had no way of knowing it was going to do what it did, right? So let's assume they thought the result would be death; working with something like that, they'd have to have an epi-pen or something on hand with the antidote in it.”
“Chin Ho Kelly, you are a brilliant man,” Danny stated, clapping his hands. “I see one flaw in your argument, though: we don't know who these people are.”
“I can help with that,” Jenna called, shuffling papers again. “Because of the dangers of the mushroom, certain measures have to be taken in terms of studying or transporting it, the types of things that are kept on record. I'll dig and see what the story is and call you guys back.”
The call was ended and the team stood around the table, silent. It was only a matter of time before they had names for their perps, but until then they'd have to sit tight. Luckily they'd had no other cases, and Danny was grateful for the rest of the criminal population deciding to take a holiday.
All agreed to stay at HQ for a little while to finish paperwork in the event Jenna called. Danny meandered back to his office with Steve and wrote a note to himself to call Grace; she'd been right on the money with this whole thing, and he couldn't have been more proud of her.
Jenna had been close, but hadn't found out who or where just yet; she'd promised to have something concrete for them the next day, if not later in the evening. Danny didn't even want to consider what time it was where ever she was located. In the meantime, Danny called Grace and filled her in, grinning at her excitement as she babbled a mile-a-minute.
“So you're going to fix Uncle Steve, right Danno?” she asked, hopeful.
“As soon as we get our hands on the antidote – sort of like medicine – and give it him, he should be fine.”
“I hope you find it soon.”
“Me too, Monkey.”
“Give Uncle Steve love for me, ok?” Grace asked him, rummaging in the kitchen in the background. “I have to go now, Mommy wants me to start homework.”
“Ok baby, don't work too hard, Danno loves you.”
“Love you too!”
The call ended and Danny just sat quietly, allowing the words to roll over him. For a long time, it had been Grace alone that kept him going, Grace and her unconditional love. Some days, it still was, but increasingly Danny found himself looking to additional things.
One of which was napping inside a tissue box on the corner of his desk. It had been Kono's idea, of course – she'd stuffed it with cotton balls and scraps of soft cloth, presenting it to Steve with a coo. He'd blustered at first, going on a tirade about being the team pet, but had ended up in the box all the same, rooting around and burrowing into the softness. Danny thought it was cute and very nice on Kono's part, because now at least they had a specific place to look for Steve, should he not be with any of them.
Danny could feel himself blushing slightly; it had taken something utterly ridiculous happening to Steve for him to realize what exactly his feelings meant. He felt like a goofball, but a goofball secure in the knowledge that the other party at least felt the same way. It was the most he could ask for.
Hooking a finger in the opening of the box, he dragged it over and peered inside. Steve was cocooned in cotton balls, mouth open and snoring. It wasn't an attractive look on anyone, but somehow Steve made it work. Danny frowned, because that was so typical.
“Yo, Danny, we're heading out,” Chin announced, popping his head into the office. “You guys good?”
“Yeah, go, go, we're all set,” he replied, making a shooing motion and grinning at the eye-roll he got in return. He really could not have been blessed with a better team. A wave of emotion broke over him, and suddenly he had to fight the urge to weep: he loved all of them, he really did, loved them like friends but also like siblings.
“Ok, Tiny Tim,” Danny voiced, picking up Steve's box, “let's move out.”
He drove them back to Steve's, rousing the other man long enough to get him fed before putting the box in the bedroom. Steve cat-napping was irksome, but he really wasn't much use so Danny didn't mind, at least not when they were outside the office. He puttered around the kitchen, cleaning up from dinner and straightening up the living room, humming absentmindedly to himself.
He was considering watching TV for a bit when a noise on the lanai caught his attention. Muttering to himself, Danny pulled his firearm out of it's holster and thumbed off the safety, stalking quietly towards the kitchen to listen. There was a creak: someone was definitely out there. Frowning, Danny quickly wracked his brain for a reason as to why anyone would need to be back before thumping himself on the forehead with the palm of his free hand. Of course they'd be back; if Steve had died like they'd intended, news of his death would've been all over the island. There'd have been services and all of the hullabaloo that went with it.
Things hadn't gone according to plan, and they were back for round two. Baring his teeth a little, Danny steeled himself: not going to happen. The fact that they might have brought the right compound with them didn't phase him; he'd just shoot them all, no muss and no fuss.
At least, that was his intention. He didn't get that far, as one of them had managed to get inside the house and thunk him on the head. He saw stars, crumpling to the floor, but didn't lose consciousness. He could feel them trussing him up and moving him to a chair in the living room, but his vision was still swimming and he couldn't make out their faces.
Propped onto the couch, Danny rolled his head back and squinted, glaring at them. “You guys are real shmucks, you know that?”
“Shuddup,” one of the guys muttered, a hand moving menacingly towards a sidearm.
“I'm serious! Can't a guy get a break? Hasn't this house been damaged enough? You break in here twice, have assaulted not one but two officers of the law, attempted murder on one of them – what gives?”
He was stalling time, though he didn't know what for. These guys were packing heat, they obviously intended to do some not so nice things to him. They probably wanna know what happened to Steve, he thought, rolling his eyes towards the stairs. There was a good chance Steve was awake, had heard the commotion, but there wasn't a whole heck of a lot he could do about it.
“You don't talk anymore,” a different guy said, stuffing what looked like Danny's tie into Danny's mouth. He thrashed, trying to push the material out with his tongue but failed, the man stuffing the tie in almost too far. Glaring daggers, Danny watched the two men with him check over their weapons before a third man entered the room. Danny's eyes widened and he tried not to look too panic-stricken: the third man was holding Steve's little box.
“This? This is interesting,” the man began, a slight Scottish accent tinging his words. “I read about the possible affects our compound could have and when news of McGarrett's demise didn't reach my ears, I assumed something else had occurred. This is what happens when you send boys to do the jobs of men.” He shot a look at the two thugs before continuing. “Maybe they expected him to drown, I'm not sure – silly expectation, considering their target. My question for you, detective, is where McGarrett is now.”
Danny just stared, tie wedged firmly between his jaws.
“I know he's alive, and this little nest indicates he's here somewhere, but considering his size that could be anywhere. So, detective, where is our mutual friend?”
Giving the stinkiest stink eye he could, Danny merely shrugged, affecting an air of not giving a fuck. The Scottish man frowned, tsking slightly.
“Maybe I need to draw him out; I'm sure hurting you will work well in doing just that.”
Rolling his eyes, Danny sighed through his nose. It was always like this with thugs, using him as a pawn to get to Steve. It was getting really predictable.
“Don't you fucking touch him,” came Steve's voice, absurdly loud. Danny startled, looking around, confused. It sounded like Steve was using a loudspeaker or something.
“Ah, Commander! How nice of you to join us,” the Scotsman said, turning in a slow circle and looking around the room. “Why don't you come out and play?”
Squirming against his bonds, Danny tried desperately to locate Steve and at least try and stop him from doing something so monumentally stupid as step in. He was eight inches tall, for Pete's sake! He was about as useful as tits on a bull.
“If by play you mean 'kill your stupid ass,' then absolutely, I'd love to.”
The thugs were on high alert, weapons raised. If they started shooting, both Danny and Steve were screwed. Seeing a tiny movement out of the corner of his eye, Danny stilled and watched Steve navigate the shadows, moving like a wraith.
He almost seemed to be blending into them, blackened around the edges. A nervous shiver made it's way down Danny's spine; Steve looked too much like the real faeries in the Grimm's stories, and not enough like the cute and cuddly ones he decided he liked better.
“I don't have time for games--” the Scotsman began, cut off abruptly when the lights suddenly went out. Danny wriggled on the sofa until his entire body was on it, trying to be as out of the way as the thugs as he could. He would never hear the end of it if he got shot in the dark.
There was a flash, like a camera going off, and one of the thugs shrieked; Danny had no idea grown men could sound like that. Another flash, like lightning striking, and the other thug was down. It didn't sound like either of them were moving, and Danny wriggled harder, trying to get at least one of his arms free.
“You have no right to fuck with me, or my family,” Steve's voice echoed in the dark house, sounding big and ominous. “I'll kill you if I have to.”
“Kill me? I could squash you like an insect,” the Scotsman grit out, only a few feet from Danny. One of his hands slipped free and he immediately brought it to his face, tugging out the gag and gasping slightly. Untying his legs in the dark wasn't going to happen, so instead he slunk to the floor and dragged himself behind the sofa, wanting to be as out of the way as humanly possible.
“Too arrogant for your own good,” Steve said, and suddenly the room was engulfed with light. Danny popped up behind the couch, quickly tugging his legs free. His jaw fell open at the scene before him.
Steve was glowing like a beacon, like a lighthouse on a cliff, and the Scotsman was suspended in the air, tendrils of light curling around him. Steve glowed so brightly his entire body was a shade of silver, his eyes whited out. The Scotsman was gasping for breath, and Danny tensed; if Steve killed this man, they could lose their access to the antidote.
“Steve! Don't kill him, we need him,” Danny called hurrying out from behind the couch and removing the thugs' weapons – they weren't going anywhere, but better safe than sorry. “He knows where the antidote is.”
Steve considered him before lowering the man to the ground. He gasped for air; Danny trained a firearm on him and glared down his nose.
“Where is the antidote?” Steve asked, voice even and still too-loud for his size.
“Fuck... you...” the Scotsman spat. Danny rolled his eyes and almost barked out a warning when the tendrils of light wrapped around the man's throat. He didn't have to worry, though, the Scotsman was panicking enough without Danny having to step in. “I have it! Dear Lord in Heaven, I have it.”
He fumbled in the pockets of his pants – cargoes, but with way more pockets than Steve's – and tossed a small syringe at Danny. He examined it, noting the tiny gauge of the needle.
“How much of this does he need?” Danny asked, voice flat.
“One cc,” the man said, huddling on the floor. “If nothing happens, keep administering it until something does happen.”
Nodding, Danny retrieved his phone and dialed out to Chin before calling HPD. Steve buzzed over to him – after putting the lights back on, Danny noticed – and plopped unceremoniously onto Danny's shoulder. Without thinking, Danny stuffed Steve into his shirt pocket alongside the syringe and stood sentry until HPD arrived.
“I'm amazed they came back,” Kono was saying, writing a few more things down before allowing an officer to take Thug #2 off her hands. “How stupid can they be?”
“It makes perfect sense, actually,” Chin replied, stripping off his gloves and stuffing them into a pocket. “They came back to finish the job. They thought it'd be easy with Steve being in such a... delicate... condition. Apparently they didn't do enough homework.”
“Apparently,” Kono sighed, digging out her phone. “I'll call Jenna and let her know the good news.”
Nodding, Chin went in search of Danny, who was still giving his statement to HPD. “For the last time, no, I didn't see what they hit me with, ok? Jesus.”
Trying to hide a grin, Chin stood off to the side, waiting until the officer moved away. Danny was in impatient mode; who could blame him? They had the antidote – Jenna was going to confirm it, he was sure, Kono would undoubtedly tell her all about it – and Danny was eager to administer it and get Steve back to normal.
“I wish we could just give it to him,” Danny muttered when Chin strode up and clapped him on the back.
“Gotta make sure it's the real deal and not the poison,” Chin shrugged.
“I know, I know. Doesn't make waiting any easier.”
“Well, at least now you can be secure in the knowledge that this is almost over.”
“Thank goodness for small favors,” Danny said with a smile, gently petting his shirt pocket, bulging with Steve's weight.
It wasn't until the following day that they could get the syringe to Max for testing; Jenna had faxed him the necessary information and he dutifully went through the process, the perfect image of a kid with his chemistry set. It would take a bit for the results to come in, and Danny was all but ready to pull his hair out. Kono shushed and soothed him, suggesting he call Grace later in the afternoon and give her the good news. The idea of talking to his Monkey brightened his mood.
Steve had been quiet the remainder of the night and into the following day. Chin seemed to think he'd tired himself out with all the energy he used, and Danny kept a watchful eye, making sure Steve ate every half hour or so and drank plenty of fluids. He half expected the other man to brook an argument with being treated like a pet, but he never said a word.
Late in the afternoon, Danny got a call from Max.
“I thought you would like to know that the syringe did contain the antidote.”
“That's fantastic, babe, really, I'm on my way over right--”
“I also thought you'd like to know that the concentration and therefore ratios of dose to weight are configured to meet that of an average sized man. I cannot change the concentration without disrupting the entire molecular structure, though I can – and did – separate out the appropriate dose amounts into individual vials.”
Danny squinted, suddenly feeling like his brain was too big for his skull. “Can I have that in plain English this time, Bill Nye?”
“Steve's size means that what would've been an appropriate dose – one cc – would have become lethal. I did some math to figure out how much Steve would need based on his current size and the chemical content of the antidote.”
“Was that so hard? Thanks, buddy, I'm on my way.”
Steve had been napping when the call came in, so Danny just hurried over to the ME's office on his own, thanking Max profusely for doing what must have been ridiculously tedious and measuring out the antidote in Steve-sized doses.
Upon arriving home, Danny found the kitchen light on and Steve nibbling on a piece of cheese. Standing in the doorway of the kitchen, he just stared, eyes moving back and forth from Steve's position on the kitchen table and the fridge.
“How the hell did you manage this?” he finally asked, placing the bag of antidote on the table and sitting down. Steve looked at him with confusion until Danny gestured towards the cheese.
“I figured out how to harness the energy required to open and close things, so I got the fridge open. Everything else was kind of heavy, though, so I figured I'd stick with cheese.”
“Don't eat too much of that, the fat content alone will kill you,” Danny said, wrinkling his nose as he tugged the bag over. “Max is pretty much the love of my life, by the way – he set all of this up nice and simple for us.”
Danny set out the doses one by one in front of Steve, who stared at them with increasingly widening eyes. Noting his discomfort, Danny quickly added “I don't think you'll need all of them, and even if you do, certainly not right away. We'll just... dose you until it works, like McDuck said.”
The use of the cartoon name didn't bring the smile Danny was hoping for. Sighing heavily, he uncapped one of the tiny vials and examined the almost microscopic needle. Steve's eyes were huge in his face as he took the needle and examined it himself, turning it this way and that.
“You'll have to help me, it's a little too big to handle myself.”
“No worries, babe. You wanna give it a go now?”
Steve shrugged, wings shimmering. “Might as well. Here, hold it like this and when I say, push the plunger.”
They got everything lined up, and Steve pushed until the needle punctured his skin. Danny winced, pressing the plunger when told and watched the fluid enter Steve's body.
There was no way to tell how long it would take, or when to administer the next dose; Max had recommended waiting at least two hours, if not longer. Too much of the stuff at once could do more harm than good, and Danny was in no mood to take that chance.
So he set an alarm in his phone to go off every two hours until they'd used up the antidote or Steve turned back, whichever happened first. Grace was informed of the proceedings and squealed gleefully over the phone, causing Danny to wince and Steve to cover his ears, the both of them rolling their eyes good-naturedly.
Danny was becoming concerned, though, at how withdrawn Steve was becoming as the day turned into evening and the doses progressed. Taking everything upstairs to Steve's bedroom and getting them settled – Danny had thought ahead and had brought a book with him – he set Steve aside and stared at him.
Squirming under the gaze, Steve looked away first. “What,” he whined, twitching his wings.
“Just wondering what's got you more taciturn than usual, is all. You've said barely a word all day, babe. I thought you'd be over the moon.”
Steve met Danny's eyes and as small as he was, Danny could easily see the panic there.
“What if it doesn't work?” Steve squeaked, wings buzzing, his body floating over the mattress. “What if the dosage is wrong or it isn't the right compound and I'm stuck like this forever?”
“The likelihood of that happening is--” Danny began, voice calm, but was cut off as Steve dive-bombed into his chest.
Danny was only wearing sleep pants, and he felt himself flush as Steve burrowed into the blonde fuzz on his chest. The other man was shaking against him, and Danny could feel his chest tightening. He stroked a finger along the back of Steve's neck, the other coming to cup and lift him so they could be eye-to-eye.
“Steven, listen to me: freaking out isn't going to help. I'm willing to trust Max on this one, and you should, too. He tested the stuff, it's the right mix or whatever. If it takes a weird amount of time to work... well, that can't be helped. But it is going to work.”
“But how do you know,” Steve whimpered, his bottom lip trembling a little. “If I get stuck like this, we can never--” he cut himself off, eyes widening comically before he slapped a hand over his mouth. Quirking an eyebrow, Danny regarded him thoughtfully.
“We can never what?”
“Forget I said anything, Danno, please?”
“Don't 'Danno' me, alright. Just... what're you thinking? There's obviously something heavy weighing on you, just tell me.”
Keeping his voice pitched low and soothing, Danny cupped Steve in both hands and cuddled him to his chest, his grip firm. No way was Steve flying out of this.
“I just care about you a lot, and it's hard enough for me to show that when I'm normal, let alone tiny.”
“Normal is relative, babe – and I love you, too.”
Danny let the words hang in the air, holding Steve in front of his face again. The other man gaped at him, jaw hanging open.
“I heard you the other night, ok? You said 'love you' right before you dozed off. You didn't hear me say it back then, and I've been a coward about saying it since, so I'm saying it now. I love you, too, and nothing changes that. I don't care how big or not you are, or if you have wings, or extra toes, or a tail. None of that matters.”
“B-but if I don't change back, we can't really be together,” Steve whimpered, tears rolling down his cheeks now. “I'd lose you because of this, I know I would. Just – promise you'll stay, even if I'm stuck this small, please? Just promise.”
Danny's heart felt like so many shards of busted mirror. Little, tiny, faerie-magic Steve was just as emotionally stunted and needy as six-foot, bad-ass Navy SEAL Steve. He brought his hands to his cheek and nuzzled Steve against him, feeling the way the other man's body shook with tears.
“I'm not going anywhere, ok? I'm not. You're safe, I'll keep you safe.”
Steve nodded, still crying a little. He was exhausted and fading now; Danny tucked him against his side, one hand curled protectively over the other man's body as he slept. He just watched Steve sleep, waking him every time the alarm went off to administer the antidote.
As the hours passed and the supply diminished, Danny could see Steve sinking deeper and deeper into his misery. It hurt not to be able to truly reassure him, to kiss it better, and the frustration was eating Danny up inside.
After the last injection, they say looking at each other, the soon-to-be rising sun pinking up the horizon. Steve stretched out along Danny's sternum, nuzzling at skin through a layer of blonde fuzz. Sighing deeply and trying to stifle a yawn, Danny folded his hands against his belly, just behind where Steve lay. He muttered something about cat-napping and was asleep before his eyes were all the way closed.
He'd thought it'd be difficult to sleep, the tension of the last twenty-four hours in both his and Steve's body hardly leached out. By the time he finally opened his eyes, it was late in the afternoon, and he groaned; as expected, there were a multitude of missed calls from Chin, Kono, Max, and Jenna. Running a hand through his hair, Danny froze, eyes wide.
He'd fallen asleep with Steve on his chest; Steve wasn't there now. Danny hadn't moved an inch in his sleep, but he checked the sheets anyway, feeling both horrified and glad that Steve hadn't been squished in the night. Glancing around the room now, Danny frowned; he'd shut the bedroom door when they got up there, and Steve couldn't have opened it himself, regardless of what he'd said about the fridge.
A sound in the bathroom caught Danny's attention and he quietly crept over, poking his head around the half-opened door.
It took all the will-power he had not to start screaming “hallelujah” at the top of his lungs: Steve – full-sized, beautiful, human Steve – was laying naked on the bathroom floor, curled around the toilet. Practically shaking with relief, Danny went back into the bedroom to felt a blanket before returning to the bathroom and draping it over Steve's bare form. There came that sound again – Steve groaning – and his eyes fluttered open, rolling a little before he turned onto his side and gazed blearily up at Danny.
“Why'm I on the floor?” he asked, voice hoarse.
“Must've passed out,” Danny replied, his voice shaking slightly. “Looks like you sicked up a little, too.”
Eyes sliding closed, Steve made an unhappy noise in his throat, barely allowing Danny to drag him up from the floor and back into the bedroom. Ideally he'd have had Steve brush his teeth, but he seemed unsteady on his feet and Danny wasn't sure he was skilled enough to direct that circus of a movie. Instead, he guided Steve back to bed and tucked him, taking up his phone and returning everyone's calls.
Steve wasn't up to chatting, but smiled a little when Danny put the phone on speaker so he could hear everyone's excited shouts. After ending the last call and tossing the phone back on the side-table, Danny settled beside Steve on the bed, a hand checking the other man's forehead for a temperature.
“I can't believe I puked,” Steve croaked, rubbing his hands over his face, palms rasping against the stubble.
Danny shrugged. “There had to be at least one unpleasant aspect to this whole recovery process; personally I'd rather sick up a little or something, over missing a limb or bleeding internally or--” he'd begun to ramble, the hours before rushing back and filling him with a cold nervousness.
Steve struggled to sit up, throwing out a hand and clamping it over Danny's lips, effectively stilling them.
“Danno. It's gonna be ok. I still mean everything I said, and I think you do, too—at least, I hope you do...” Steve began, slumping with relief when Danny nodded, mouth still hidden by Steve's hand. “And I'd really, really like it if you'd consider maybe... staying with me? Like, forever. Or y'know, a while. Or something. And Grace too, you know she loves it here, with the beach and everything...” he trailed off, grinning slightly at the fact that he was rambling now, too.
Danny pressed his lips against Steve's hand and took it in his own, stroking a fingertip over the knuckles. “I just want you to know the only thing keeping me from laying one on you right now is the fact that you've got puke mouth.”
He said it as straight-faced as he could manage, descending into giggles at Steve's scowl. He removed himself from the bed, stumbling towards the bathroom. Danny made to follow when his phone rang again.
“Danno, is Uncle Steve better yet?”
“Y'know what, babe? He is! It took a long night and the day after, but he's finally better. No more mini-Steve.”
“I'm glad! When I see you next, can we visit with him?”
Glancing towards the bathroom and grinning at Steve's grumbling as he brushed his teeth, Danny replied “of course we can. There's nothing I'd love more.” There would be time to discuss the formalities later.
He'd no sooner hung up with Grace when Danny felt a strong pair of hands grip his waist and spin him around. Gasping, he found himself pressed up against a still-naked Steve, this time with minty fresh breath.
“This better?” Steve murmured, leaning down to press lips to Danny's. It was the sweetest kiss Danny had ever encountered, and his heart ached from it, from just how much he loved this ridiculous man.
“Much,” he grinned against Steve's lips, kissing him back and throwing his tongue in for good measure.