They're sitting on the lanai, eating dinner, when, finally, Danny can't take it anymore. Their first night alone after a weekend with Grace always seems quiet, but the silence seems almost unnerving. To top it all off, Steve has just been picking at his dinner, pushing his stir fry around with his fork. Something is very obviously wrong, but Danny doesn't have a clue what he's said or done this time.

"Did I do something wrong?" he asks hesitantly, sounding as if he's afraid to hear the answer. When Steve finally speaks up, Danny thinks he might choke on his rice for a moment and sputters.

"I'm getting old," Steve announces, sounding like the weight of the world is resting on his broad, tattooed shoulders. Danny knows he shouldn't, but he rolls his eyes.

"Did you hit your head at work today and I didn't see it? I mean, for Christ's sake, Steven. You're 34 years old. I'd hardly call that elderly."

This time, it's Steve's turn to look at all the negatives in the situation and Danny's to tell him he's batshit insane.

"I've already done in one shoulder and now I'm working on the other. My knee is on its way out and I need Tylenol just to tolerate a day at home with Grace, let alone on the job. I keep waiting to get called in and told I'm being put out to pasture so they can bring in some young stud."

Danny sighs. "Babe, you're Steve McGarrett, Super SEAL. You'll still be chasing down perps when you're 112. Gracie will probably retire before you do."

Steve just shakes his head. The more Danny looks at him, the more floored he was by all the changes he's missed in his husband. Steve looks exhausted, like he hasn't slept in days. He has definitely lost weight and his eyes ocean blue eyes have lost their sparkle. Danny just shakes his head. Now, he can see that he's not getting the whole story.

"Let's try that again, Babe. What's wrong?" Danny asks. He's starting to think Steve has a death wish for him when he sets his fork down and finally answers. Then he gets why Steve says he's getting old.

"I want a baby."

"Excuse me?" Danny asks. "Steve, are you sure you didn't hit your head today?" he questions once more, actually feeling his husband over for bumps and bruises this time as he crosses to the other side of the table and sits in the chair closest to Steve.

"I didn't hit my head, Danno. I didn't fall or hurt myself or lose it or anything that you're thinking. I want a baby. I'm getting old and I want a baby before it's too late."

Then it dawns on Danny. Steve doesn't mean that he's actually getting old. He knows 34 isn't old. He just feels like his biological clock is ticking. Danny takes a deep breath and scrubs his hands over his face. They have Grace. He always thought that was enough for them. Steve has never given any inclination as to wanting more kids. But Danny doesn't need more than a few seconds to think about it. If that's what Steve wants, that's what Steve's going to get. Danny smiles and draws Steve in for a soft kiss, his thick fingers curling under his husband's chin.

"If you want a baby, then we'll have a baby," he promises Steve. He'll give his husband this baby, no matter what it takes.