If you would have told Danny two weeks ago that flu season in Hawaii could be worse than flu season in New Jersey, he would have laughed.

He wasn't laughing now.

Over three quarters of HPD had been out with the awful illness at some point or another over the last few weeks. Danny himself had been Patient Zero at Five-0 thanks to Charlie and his elementary school germs. From there, Lou caught it, then Jerry. Junior and Tani had both had a very mild version last weekend. (Oh, to be a kid again, Danny thought.) Somewhat surprisingly, given the immunosuppressants he still took because of the liver transplant, Steve had made it through so far unscathed. They had all missed work at some point, leaving Steve to man the office alone some days and understaffed on others. He was working hard, sleeping little, and was clearly putting everything (and everyone) else before his health.

Danny watched his partner closely, waiting for him to succumb to the germs floating around the island. So far, though, the man seemed fine. How he had managed to escape the plague Danny didn't know. Maybe he really did have the superior immune system he'd boasted about for years.

Danny jogged up the steps of the McGarrett residence, humming happily as he did. He finally felt completely normal again, and thankful didn't even begin to describe it. Tamiflu had been a godsend, just as his partner had been. Even though they were both swamped at work, Steve and Callie had brought groceries, medicine, and meals to all the members of Five-0 and their families. Danny knew the others were just as grateful as he was.

He knocked on the front door. He'd never had to do that before Steve started seeing Callie, but after catching his partner in a few compromising situations, he'd learned his lesson. Now, he knocked. And waited.

Callie opened the door with wide smile, looking slightly harried as she dropped a few pieces of luggage on the rug.

"Mornin', Cal," Danny said. He raised the bag he was carrying. "I know you gotta leave soon for your flight, but you've got time for breakfast, right?"

Callie grinned. "I've already got the coffee going. I've missed you, Danno."

"Not as much as I've missed you," Danny said. She motioned him in and he followed her into the kitchen where the two wordlessly and comfortably went about the breakfast ritual they had developed. To the amusement and delight of the team, Danny and Callie had breakfast together nearly every morning these days. Steve would swim, run, and get dressed before eating something healthy while Danny and Callie sat at the table, ate malasadas, and gossipped.

"So where's Super SEAL?" Danny asked, looking out the window.

"Still upstairs," Callie answered, plucking a malasada from the bag.

Danny frowned. "Still upstairs? He hasn't been down at all? No running or swimming?"

"Nope. He didn't even wake up until my alarm went off. I don't think he feels well, but you know he isn't going to admit that."

Danny heaved a great sigh. "Well, crap."

Callie nodded. "My thoughts exactly." She absentmindedly gazed out at the ocean before shyly looking at Danny. "He also turned me down last night. Gently, nicely, but definitely turned me down."

"What? McGarrett? Turned you down for Barry White time?"

"True story."

Danny winced. "I hope it isn't the flu."

"I hope so, too. Maybe it's nothing-maybe he's just really tired. He has been working himself to death."

Danny sighed. "I know. We all feel guilty about that."

Callie shook her head. "It couldn't be helped, Danny. It's not like you all got sick at the same time on purpose."

The two friends looked up as Steve came slowly down the stairs.

"Morning, babe," Danny said. "Want a malasada?"

Steve grimaced, shook his head, and went to the fridge.

"I made coffee," Callie offered.

"Just want juice," Steve hoarsely replied.

Callie and Danny shared a knowing look behind Steve's back.

"You working today?" Danny asked.

"Of course I'm working today." Steve scowled at Danny as an afterthought. "Why wouldn't I be?"

"Callie said you didn't run or swim this morning. I thought that maybe you weren't feeling so well."

Steve continued to scowl. "I'm tired, Danny. I haven't had a day off in weeks. Get off my back."

Danny wasn't surprised by Steve's snappish reply. He arched his eyebrows. "O-kay."

Steve stood, pouring most of the juice down the drain before rinsing the glass and depositing it into the dishwasher. He closed his eyes and leaned against the counter as a wave of dizziness washed over him. Callie and Danny exchanged another look, but neither said anything to Steve. He opened his eyes and turned to Callie. "Are you sure you don't need me to take you to the airport? It's no trouble."

Callie shook her head. "There's a car coming for me. It should be here in just a few minutes."

Steve nodded. "Alright." He looked toward Danny. "Let me get my stuff and we'll go."

While Steve walked back upstairs, Callie took the opportunity to talk to Danny.

"You'll take care of him while I'm at this conference?" she questioned, biting her lower lip. "I wish I didn't have to go, but it's too late for me to cancel on them now."

"You know I will." Danny stood and kissed Callie's cheek. Steve waited at the bottom of the steps. "Have a good trip, Cal. Knock 'em dead. I'm going to let you and Steve say goodbye. I'll be in the car."

Callie raised up on her tiptoes to kiss Steve chastely and took the opportunity to brush her hand across his forehead. "No fever yet," she said quietly.

"I told you, I'm just tired," Steve replied.

"Promise you'll let someone know if you're sick?"

Steve kissed her again. "I promise, but I'm fine, Callie."

A horn signaled that Callie's car had arrived and Steve helped her with her bags. "Hurry home," Steve said, hugging her tightly.

She smiled. "I always do."