Steve's not always good with words. But actions he doesn't struggle with quite as much.
So Danny's learnt that sometimes it's better just to watch him rather than just listen. Or talk.
He's watching when Steve suddenly stills while reading an old magazine in the waiting area at the hospital (which they've ended up in – again). And he notices when Steve surreptitiously rips out the page then stuffs it in the pocket of his pants.
He detects his partner's sudden change of mood, observes the way his fingers worry all day at the paper in his pocket, now neatly folded into four.
Steve's mood is introspective for the rest of day, barely acknowledging his friends around him. So this is why after a long day at work he's letting himself into his partner's house with a six pack of beer and a pizza, his instincts telling him something is wrong.
What he sees is Steve sitting at the kitchen table, an open shoe box is in front of him. There's a beer in his hand, seemingly forgotten, as he stares at the torn out magazine page. Steve acknowledges him with a sigh, handing over the page he's been reading.
It's an obituary, Danny notes, for a doctor who was killed while working in Afghanistan for Medecins Sans Frontieres. The accompanying picture shows a young woman with intelligent blue eyes, her smile shining out from the page.
Now Steve's routing through the shoebox. It's full of random keepsakes Danny notes: letters and photos, old coins and a single key. Even a little rag doll which Steve moves carefully out of the way before finding what he needs.
Danny inhales sharply as he looks closely at the photo Steve's now handing him. It's a much younger version of his partner and the woman from the magazine, wrapped in each other's arms as they pose in front of the Eiffel Tower.
They look ecstatically happy, the ring on her left hand sparkling in the sunlight.