If I Was Your Mother

Danny watched the office across from him, and Steve sitting at his desk pretending to work. If one could pretend to work while not moving his hands from where they rested on his keyboard for the last hour; and while his eyes drooped closed and his head slowly dropped down until he jerked himself awake. It was the fifth time Danny had seen him do that. He laughed, shut down his computer and headed off to find Kono, Chin and Lou to tell them he was taking the big baby home.

He'd woken up that morning to Steve's coughing as he put on his trunks for his usual (well, usually usual – Danny had managed to distract him a few times) morning swim.

"Hey babe," he'd said, voice still rough from a deep sleep. "Everything all right?"

"Yeah. Going for my swim." Cough. Sniff. Cough. Voice deeper than usual, and not in that sexy way it got deep when he was promising dirty, filthy things in Danny's ear. He sat up in bed, eyes wide.

"Uh, no you're not."

Steve smirked, red-nosed and sniffing and somehow still only barely half a percent less sexy than usual. Jerk. "Why? Got a better proposition for me?"

And Danny maybe did, but more important seemed like it might be rest and fluids.

"You're sick, babe. You're not going swimming."

Steve looked at him like he'd just told him Steve was some kind of terrorist. "I am not!"

"Uh huh." Danny flopped back down, knew there was only one way Steve would refrain from going for that swim.

"You go outside for a swim, Steven," he said, slow and lazy, fingers flexing against his abs, "and you are not even gonna kiss me for the rest of the day."

Steve stopped, one leg midair, ready to step into the trunks, narrowing his eyes at Danny as he tried to decide if he was bluffing or not. And then he coughed, almost causing him to face-plant.

"Completely serious, babe," Danny said through his laughter.

Steve sniffed, pouted, and flopped back onto the bed with a groan, where he'd stayed until it was time to refuse to stay home from work.

In his office, Steve jumped when Danny touched his shoulder. "Hey, it's just me." Steve took a deep breath, scrubbed at his face.

"What's up, Danno?"

"Let's get out of here, babe."

Steve frowned and looked at his watch. "It's only two."

"Uh huh, and I've been watching you fight sleep, and lose, for over an hour now."

"I haven't—" Danny raised an eyebrow. Steve sighed, closed his eyes, and leaned back in the chair. "I feel like shit, Danno," he finally admitted.

"Yeah babe, I know. I'm proud of you for admitting it." He reached out to knead Steve's shoulder and he groaned in appreciation. "Don't worry. I won't tell anyone, although I think they already know." The groan turned decidedly less appreciative.

He rubbed along his arm. "Let's go, babe."

Danny logged Steve off of his computer, took his hand, and pulled him out of the chair. Steve took a moment and a deep breath, and squared his shoulders for the walk out of the Palace. He did not, however, let go of Danny's hand which, although their relationship was no secret, wasn't something they generally did on the clock.

He led his poor, sick baby into the bullpen, threw a wave in the others' direction, then out to the car. Steve, out of habit, or perhaps stubbornness, started toward the driver's side. Danny tightened his grip on his hand and tugged him in the opposite direction.

"Oh, no, Steven. We are not dying this afternoon because you fell asleep at the wheel."

Steve blinked once at him, then slid into the passenger's seat after Danny opened the door for him – hey, chivalry didn't have to be dead just because his lover's a dude.

"Get ready for the mother of all mother hens, babe."

Steve let out a quiet chuckle, fastened his seat belt, and leaned against the window.

"Thanks, Danno."