A/N: Just a little bit of Steve/Danny kid!fic fluff :) This is a gift for my H50 secret santa over on tumblr who loves Daddy!Steve fic. I hope she likes it :)

Hope you guys like it too! Unbetaed so all mistakes are mine, and of course, I don't actually own any of the characters, just the crazy stories I've made up in my head :)

"Steve," Danny whispered quietly, shaking Steve's shoulder.

"Wha, huh," Steve mumbled unintelligently as Danny roused him from sleep.

"You fell asleep in the rocker again. Come back to bed, babe."

"But he's sick and I want to be here in case he needs me." Steve's eyes looked worriedly towards the crib in the corner of the room. They both sat for a minute and watched Noah huff in his sleep before turning over onto his back, mouth open because of his stuffy nose.

"We have the baby monitor in our room, okay, if anything happens we'll hear him," Danny reasoned as he tried to move his overtired partner away from his crib-side vigil.

"But…"

"C'mon, the bed is cold and lonely without you."

Steve finally acquiesced to Danny's prodding; it was a testament to how overtired he really was because Steve McGarrett was a very stubborn man, and it usually took a lot more to convince him to do anything he didn't want to.

Danny pulled Steve down onto the bed, wrapped the covers around them both and snuggled into his arms. Steve's breath evened out in record time. He'd been handling most of the late night feedings because Danny had been up every morning making sure Grace got to school on time. Rachel and Stan were in London for two months on a job, but since it was October and Grace had school, she had to stay behind with Danny and Steve. Not that Danny minded, of course.

Their house was a bedlam of noise and crazy, at least crazier than was usual in the McGarrett-Williams household. Their eight month old son had been fighting off a wicked case of the flu and only managed to get two hours of sleep at a time before he was up wailing because he couldn't breathe through his nose and his fever was making him sweat through his onesie.

Steve was beside himself with worry; actually frantic with worry would probably be an even better description. He couldn't sit still for more than three minutes without getting up to check that the baby was still breathing properly, and every time Noah tried to pull in a ragged breath Steve whined a little in sympathy. Danny was pretty sure if the fever didn't break soon he may be taking both his son and his husband to the emergency room, Noah for his cold and Steve for heart failure from worry.

And Grace was being a typical twelve-year old girl in all her sassy glory. If there was any doubt before that Grace was Danny's daughter, the patented Williams mouth was most definitely not lost on her. It wasn't unusual to walk into their house in the afternoon to hear a screaming baby, a frantic Navy commander trying to sing nursery rhymes in a soothing tone, and a pre-teen girl chatting away on her cell phone.

Danny wouldn't have it any other way.

*H50*

Steve woke up instantly to the sound of Noah sniffling on the baby monitor. He quickly extricated himself from Danny's stronghold and quickly moving into the nursery before the sniffling turned into all out wails and he woke up the whole house.

"Hey, buddy," Steve greeted as he saw Noah's big blue eyes, glassy with fever, looking up at him. "How are you feeling this morning?"

Steve felt Noah's forehead with the back of his hand while he reached for the baby thermometer they had left on the shelf by the crib. "You definitely don't feel as warm as you were, bud. Let's see what the thermometer says, huh."

After managing to get the thermometer in his ear, Noah had been working on his turning over skills and was making it difficult because he kept turning to the opposite side of the crib, Steve waited a few moments for the beep. "99.5, it's definitely improving. Why don't we get you changed and ready for the morning, huh, then we can see if you'll be able to keep a bottle down."

If you had asked Steve three years ago when he first came back to Hawaii if he ever thought he'd be living in his childhood home with a husband, stepdaughter, and their son he would have laughed in your face. Steve McGarrett was not a family man, or at least that's what he thought.

Apparently all he needed was to meet a loud-mouthed Jersey detective who punched him in the face and bickered with him 24/7.

It was a match made in bullet-flying, grenade-launching heaven.

But now Steve couldn't imagine his life any differently. He looked down at the big blue eyes of his son and there wasn't a doubt in his mind that this was where he wanted to be. Everything had fallen into place, and he finally felt like he had the family he had spent his whole adult life searching for.

He pulled Noah out of the sweaty clothes he had worn to bed, changed his diaper, and put on his favorite outfit. It was a pair of baby-sized cargo pants and a t-shirt that said 'Future Navy SEAL' on it. Grace had given it to Steve and Danny at the hospital when Noah was born. She said that it reminded her of Steve.

Steve hadn't stopped beaming at Grace the rest of the afternoon.

"Alright, bud, let's go downstairs and get the bottle, huh. Maybe Danno will be up soon and he can see how much better you are feeling."

Steve pulled Noah off the changing table and carried him downstairs. He could already hear Grace rummaging around in the bathroom upstairs, most likely looking for whatever new hair product all the girls in her class were using and she just had to have. He warmed up the bottle in the heater they had bought when Stacy, Noah's biological mother, was pregnant.

Noah was very picky about the temperature of his bottle, so it had been the best investment they had made.

Steve brought Noah back into the living room, and sitting down on the couch, he positioned Noah in the crook of his arm and gave him his bottle. Noah was clearly feeling a lot better because he was downing the bottle like he hadn't eaten in weeks. Which, come to think of it, he really hadn't.

The sleep deprivation, the constant worry that he was doing something wrong were all worth it when he realized they gave him moments like this; moments where it was just him and Noah and the distant sounds of the rest of his family stirring from slumber. These were the moments that made Steve feel like home, feel whole.

*H50*

Danny walked into the living room just as Steve was finishing burping Noah and putting him in the Pack N' Play they had set up in the living room. Usually they let Noah roam around on his own since they'd baby-proofed the whole living room, but with his fever and cold, he had been falling asleep at a moment's notice, so they set up the traveling crib for him to sleep and play in during the day.

"His fever's broken a little, only 99.5 this morning," Steve informed him as they both walked into the kitchen to eat breakfast.

"Good. See I told you it was nothing to worry about."

"You were right, Danno." Steve blushed in embarrassment at his overreaction to Noah's illness.

"Hey," Danny him pulled him close, "It's okay, you're new at the whole baby thing. I promise I did the same thing with Grace. Actually, the first time she was sick I called the pediatrician four times in twelve hours just to make sure the cold she had contracted wasn't actually Smallpox or something equally as horrible. It's completely natural to be overly worried. You'll learn to notice the abnormal signs, alright? Just need a little training and some good recon skills."

Steve laughed and kissed Danny, "Thanks, Danno. I just don't want to mess this up."

"Hey, Super SEAL," Danny forced Steve to look him in the eye, "Listen to me. You are an amazing father and you aren't going to screw things up. Sure, you'll make mistakes, but the most important thing is that Noah and Grace know that you love them. And, trust me, they know you do. In the end, all we can do is make sure they know we are here for them, try to shield them from the bad stuff, and be here to comfort them when we can't."

Steve smiled; Danny always knew exactly when he was having a panic attack about being a good father, and Danny was always there with the perfect thing to say to push Steve's fears out of his mind.

Steve may not have thought about having a family three years ago, but now even contemplating a life without them brought fear into his heart.

His family, his husband, his kids, they are his reason for living, for fighting, for continuing to protect the place they live. And they pushed him to never stop fighting for freedom and safety.

They were his anchor in the world of the scary and the unknown.

And Steve couldn't be more thankful.