Work Text:
It wasn't often Nikola Tesla found himself speechless.
Her gesture was in equal measures absurd and adorable. Which was not a word he used lightly. Nikola didn't have a lot of patience for most things mortals would consider 'cute'. Except for pigeons, maybe. And obviously for Helen Magnus in a rare silly mood, a playful smile lifting the corners of her lips.
He was an immortal vampire with a taste for only the finest things in life. If he was going to live in this world for the foreseeable forever, he certainly wasn't going to bother himself with less than the best. Which meant elegance. Refinement. Class. He wasn't a child having a party at Chuck E. Cheese, what use did he have for birthday candles?
But...
It touched him that Helen wanted to celebrate his birthday.
She always had back in Oxford. Knowing how far from home he was, as his best friend she set herself to fussing over him. Chivying him to do something special on a day he likely otherwise would have spent in a lab. Young Nikola was never entirely free of disgruntlement on those occasions, but those were some of his favorite days spent with Helen and some of his most precious memories of his life before the Source Blood.
But after so many years, celebrations seemed a bit superfluous, did it not? And in those years a lot had happened. A lot of harsh words exchanged. Also several bullets. After everything he had done, he would not have expected a 'happy birthday' from her. Instead she had surprised him, approached him with the gift of a bottle of what was sure to be the finest vintage in the city.
And a glass for herself; the gift of her company.
The best gift he could ask for.
He met her eyes with a warm smile, for once entirely sincere, devoid of his usually smarm and swagger.
"Thank you, Helen," he said.
Nikola took the bottle as she claimed a seat for herself. A peek at the label confirmed it was a favorite of his, hard to come by.
As smooth and rich and complex as the woman seated beside him.