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Danny sat there incredulously watching Steve shovel the last cookie in his mouth and then chew with his mouth open. The Detective was smart enough to know his partner was doing it on purpose just to get a rise out of him. Danny refused to give him the satisfaction. Truth be told he didn’t really have the energy for a full-on rant. One, it would fall on deaf ears and two, he knew he needed his energy to stock the presents under the tree. As much as he wanted to go back to work, he still had a long road of recovery ahead of him.
After the shooting on top of everything else, Rachel had been more and more generous about custody and visitation. Grace had gone over to the Grover’s house to spend Christmas Eve with Will. She’d spend the night with her mom who was adjusting to life without Stan, but Rachel promised to have Grace back at Danny’s bright and early because they all knew there would be no delaying 4-year-old Charlie on Christmas morning. It had been hard enough to get him to go to sleep.
Danny actually had a small gift for Rachel under the tree. It was a peace offering and an attempt to make her holiday a bit less dreary. He planned to invite her to stay for breakfast. While he had Steve and his Ohana, other than the kids, Rachel didn't really have anybody else. Danny remembered how awful the first years after his divorce had been, even back in Jersey surrounded by his whole family. He couldn't do that to the mother of his children.
“Now that you have stuffed yourself on my cookies, can we please get the presents out of the truck?” Danny groaned in his long-suffering tone.
“Your cookies?” Steve challenged, taking a long gulp of milk before holding up the empty plate and pointing to it. “This says they are Santa’s cookies.”
Hoisting himself off the couch to enjoy the rare opportunity to glare down at his partner Danny rejoined, “And just who do you think is Santa? Me, that’s who. I bought all those presents!”
“Not all of ‘em. I bought gifts too. There might have even been one or two for you but now you’re on the Naughty List,” Steve teased.
“That’s rich,” replied Danny. “Me, on the Naughty List. Ha. You are the one who constantly breaks the rules. If anybody is on the Naughty List, it’s you.”
“When the bad guys start playing by the rules, then I will too. Until then, there are reasons we have immunity and means. I thought you understood that by now,” Steve asserted.
“Yeah, your immunity and means got us in a lot of trouble a few Christmases ago if you recall,” Danny reminded Steve of the year they cut down the protected tree and ended up having to pay a $1,200 fine.
Steve scowled at the memory. Pua really had no sense of humor about an honest mistake. Deciding to change the subject back to the original allegation, Steve offered, “Besides I wrapped the presents, stored them so Grace and Charlie wouldn’t find them and brought them all over here.”
Danny scoffed, “You made Junior, Jerry and Tani wrap them.”
“They got wrapped, didn’t they?” Steve countered. “So I am as much Santa Claus as you are and therefore equally entitled to the cookies.”
“I made the cookies!” Danny reminded him.
“And they were delicious. You are a talented baker, my friend. You can put cookies on the menu at Steve’s,” the man of the same name tried to appease his already annoyed partner.
“It’s not gonna be called Steve’s!” Danny gritted out for the umpteenth time. It took all of his control not to shout or he’d wake up Charlie who would find the cookies eaten and no presents. Shooing Steve toward the door, he ordered, “Just go get them already, you know, before Grace gets here.”
Steve was confused. “I thought she was staying with her mom tonight and coming over here in the morning?”
“She is,” Danny confirmed causing Steve to scowl when he realized Danny was calling him slow. He took a few steps toward the door then looked over his shoulder “Aren’t you gonna help me?”
“I’m injured,” Danny begged off.
“You are on medical leave from work, not Christmas,” Steve countered. “Get your slippahs on and help me. I think you bought out half the island.”
Even though he complied, Danny felt compelled to add “They’re flip flops not slippahs.”
“Presents now, complaining about Hawaii later,” Steve mock ordered. "If you're not careful Santa will fill your stocking with pineapple."
"It's coal," Danny corrected.
Steve smirked, "Not if you like coal but hate pineapple."
“Let’s just get on with this,” Danny begged.
It took the two of them about a half dozen trips to get everything out of Steve’s truck and arranged under the tree. Despite his earlier teasing Steve could see that it had taken a toll on Danny. He’d grown pale and his breathing was labored. “Sit down, Danno. I got this.” Steve knew it was bad when Danny simply collapsed onto the couch without putting up a fuss.
Grimacing, Danny fished around for his nebulizer. “I guess I still have a ways to go.”
“You’ll get there,” Steve offered by way of encouragement as he went into the kitchen and returned with a bottle of water for his partner.
“Thanks,” Danny acknowledged taking a sip. “For everything.”
“Not a problem,” Steve downplayed the significance of the appreciation.
“No, I really mean it. Not just for the presents and everything but you know, for what you did.”
Sitting down Steve just shrugged. “You’d do it for me.” Raising his t-shirt to reveal his scar, Steve added, “Hell, you already did and more.” When Danny didn’t say anything Steve joked, “I just put my fingers in you for a few minutes. Your liver is here to stay.”
Danny shook his head in resignation. “Some pair we are.”
Steve threw his arm across the back of the couch behind Danny. “The best, buddy. The best.”
That was how Grace found them the next morning when she let herself in – asleep together sitting upright on the couch with Danny’s head resting against Steve’s shoulder. She snapped a quick pic on her phone before tip toeing into Charlie’s room to goad her little brother into dive bombing the sleeping pair awake for the opening of presents.