This is a love letter to all the McDanno fans. A sweet story. I hope you love it.

/./././

When he starts seeing Wo Fat, Steve knows it's time to come home.

He knows Wo Fat is dead. He killed him. Of course he knows. The feeling he gets when he sees him is visceral. A hot flash ripples over him, and his body is coated with sweat. His heart thumps so hard it hurts. Is this a heart attack? He flexes his left hand and then holds his breath. The pain is intense for a few seconds, and then it fades. He reaches for a gun that isn't there. He takes cover behind what used to be a telephone booth. Now, it's a little free library. He watches from a safe distance. Only to discover – nothing. No one except a homeless guy sacked out on a bench about 20 yards away. Leaves blow across the empty field. The breeze gives him a chill. He's not accustomed to these cooler temps. It's been ages since he's experienced Fall.

He types a text to Danny, but doesn't send it. Keeps it for ten minutes and then deletes it.

What is he doing? What is wrong with him?

The questions raise his awareness. He's got a headache. A persistent one. He rubs his temples. The discomfort isn't new. The low-grade pain is an old friend. The frequency and duration are new.

Tears burn his dry eyes.

"Damn allergies," he grumbles under his breath.

He grabs his phone. Dials the person he loves most.

"Steve? You okay? Where are you?" Danny asks. He sounds like he's worried but keeping it under wraps. He's been doing that for months, sparing Steve his concern.

Steve smiles. Danny, Danny, Danny. He thinks but doesn't say. Just hearing the familiar voice is a relief. He'll deal with the worrying once they're face to face again.

"Earth to Steven. Speak now, or I'm sending the cavalry."

Steve laughs, "You don't know where I am."

"You do remember where I work? I can trace your phone."

"No need," Steve says, "I'm coming home."

Danny chuckles and replies, "Oh?"

His heart skips a beat at the soft surprise in Danny's voice. He may have stolen the keys to the Camaro all those years, but Danny held the most important ones. Steve always knew this. From the very beginning.

"Yes, I'm coming back." To you.

"When?"

"Soon as I can get a flight."

"Okay."

"Pick me up?"

"Of course," Danny answers. Steve hears the added idiot even if Danny doesn't say it. "Text me your details."

Steve senses a wall. He's been gone for six months. Danny's been a trooper. Patient. Kind. Attentive. Never asking anything of him. But he's protecting himself. Steve knows this. He understands, but it's better than the alternative. Steve is a danger magnet.

"Steve?"

"Yea Danny?"

"I love you."

The words take his breath away. It's been too long since he's heard them. Or said them. He can't remember who was the first to stop saying those sacred words on their weekly phone calls.

"I love you, too."

"Good."

Steve smiles. It's an odd response, but he feels a weight behind it. There's also something he can't place, so he tests the waters with humor.

"I better get my bed back," Steve says with a grin. He waits.

Danny doesn't disappoint when he replies, "Only if you don't mind sharing."

"Ok."

"Ok?" Danny gives him another chuckle. Which Steve butterflies and a measure of bravery.

"Danny, I gotta tell you something."

He hears Danny take a deep inhale. Then he asks, "You okay, Steve?"

"Not sure."

"Steven."

Quit playing around. Steve scolds himself with Danny's voice in his head.

"I saw Wo Fat," Steve says. The admission comes out of him in a rush and feels so good to say out loud.

"Wo Fat?"

"Three times."

"Three? And you're just calling me now?"

The anger isn't hidden.

"I'm sorry. I didn't – "

"You didn't want to worry me?"

"Yea."

"But you wanted to piss me off?"

Steve's chest tightens. He wants to get defensive, but he forces himself to stand down. To relax. He owes Danny everything, including the right to be ticked off. He lets him talk rather than starting an argument.

"Have you talked to your doc?" Danny asks. He's calm, which isn't a good sign.

"Not yet."

"Ok. As soon as you get -" Danny pauses. He takes another slow breath and continues, "When you get home, we'll take care of it."

"Yea home. I can't wait."

"I miss you."

"I should have come back sooner."

"Shut up."

Steve laughs and nods. Doesn't matter if Danny can't see him.

"Wow, you're following orders."

"I've been having headaches."

"Headaches? Babe, you sure you're okay to travel?"

Danny's worry is intense, but he's doing a good job of keeping it in check.

"Yes, I'll be fine," Steve replies, "I think seeing Wo Fat is related to them."

"Always told you –" Danny stops.

Steve decides to finish the thought and adds a flourish of his own.

"My mind is a scary place and I have a thick head, right?" Steve says. He thinks it's funny, but any humor is deflated with Danny's next words.

"Not thick enough," Danny sighs, "Just get home."

"I'll see you tomorrow."

"Tell me when. I'll be there, Steve. Always."

The always is soft and under his breath. Steve's not sure he was meant to hear it. He whispers the same.

"Always."

Danny ends the call. Steve holds the phone to his ear for a few seconds. He listens to the silence. The world around him gets loud. His knees wobble. He drops to a crouch. Tears stream down his cheek. He curses them. They'll only make his headache worse.

"Buddy – you ok?"

The homeless man appears in his field of vision. He keeps his distance. It's obvious he has experience with unpredictable people. Steve's thankful. He might have decked the guy. Who's he kidding? His balance is off. His head is pounding. He's overwhelmed with the flood of emotions.

Danny loves him. Always. After all this time. He's still there.

Steve composes himself and answers, "Thanks, yea, I'm okay."

"Bad news?" The guy gestures at Steve's phone.

"No, it's good. I'm going home."

"Good for you, buddy. Go for it."

Steve smiles and replies, "I will."

He hands the man a few crinkled bills from his pocket.

"Thanks, buddy. God bless you. Hooyah."

Steve repeats, "Hooyah."