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“Scola's birthday is coming up next week, just so you know.”
Tiffany mentions it as casually as she might say that there’s rain in the forecast or that she packed a salad for lunch, and her tone is so nonchalant that Nina almost misses the significance of what she just said. Almost.
“Sorry, his birthday?”
Tiff just nods, still focused on the paperwork in front of her.
“Tuesday.”
“He hadn’t mentioned it to me…”
She’s not really sure how to feel about that, but hurt is definitely up there. Sure, she’d initially been the one to try to keep things a little more casual, partially in an effort to avoid being hurt again, partially because she’s got her own history with intimacy issues. She thought they were past that though.
“That’s not surprising.”
She must not do a good job hiding the hurt, because Tiff continues quickly with;
“Scola doesn’t tell anyone.”
“He told you.”
It’s not intended to be snide, and fortunately Tiffany seems to get that, because she chuckles.
“Not by choice. I filled out his paperwork in the ER after he dislocated his shoulder, that’s the only reason I found out.”
“So…why doesn’t he tell people?”
That gets Tiff to look up from her paperwork.
“He says it’s because it doesn't matter, but you and I both know that’s not true.”
Ah.
“Doug?”
The grim nod is confirmation enough, but after weighing her options for a minute, Tiff continues.
“Last year we went to the bar, had a drink to celebrate. Or not celebrate, if you asked him. Couple glasses of scotch and he started talking. I guess for Doug, birthdays were a big deal. Not so much his own, but he’d go all out for Stuart and Alex.”
From everything he’s told her about his big brother, that checked out.
“So when he lost that…”
“Exactly.”
“I gotta ask, why tell me? If he doesn’t like to make a big deal out of it…”
Tiffany is wearing a knowing smile now.
“You two are so damn similar, I swear. I told you because I know he won’t.”
She pauses for a moment, fiddles with her pen a little and seems to decide it’s worth it to keep going.
“Look, just because he may not say all the things, doesn’t mean he doesn’t feel them. Doesn’t mean he doesn’t want them. Something tells me that you of all people get that.”
It’s so bang on that Nina can’t help but wonder if maybe Tiffany missed her calling as a profiler.
“I don’t want to do something that’s going to hurt him, Tiff. If he wanted me to know he would have said something.”
“Bullshit.”
“Excuse me?”
“Oh please, that’s bullshit and you know it. Would you have told him that you wanted him to come and bring you soup when you missed work with the flu?”
“…that’s different.”
“It’s really not.”
“You’re sure he won’t be upset if I do something?”
“Nina, he’s crazy ‘bout you. He may show it in his own…funny ways, but he is. Look, neither one of you is big on the words. I get that. But you clearly care about him too, unless I’m a terrible judge of character.”
The arched eyebrow makes it clear that she’s not escaping this without answering.
“I do. I mean, it’s scary, and you’re right, we’re not great at saying it out loud, but…I see a future there, Tiff. Which is scary on its own, for so many reasons. Maybe it’s part of why I’m questioning this so much, because I worry that overstepping would make him pull back again, and I-I don’t want that.”
The questioning look is replaced with the softness that Nina loves so much about Tiff. Especially when it’s directed at the people she cares about.
“He’s not going to.”
There’s something simple and final about the way she says it, leaving Nina no room to argue, had she wanted to in the first place.
“Good.”
—-
She spends three days agonizing over what is too much, and what’s not enough. Money is no object for him, she knows that, but she also knows him enough to know that that’s not what it’s about for him. He might have it, sure, but he’d walked away from Wall Street for a reason.
A nice bottle of scotch, she settles for. They can drink it together, a glass each on big days, sad days, long days.
There’s something else that matters more though, and that she tucks into the envelope with the silly card she got him. He would have hated the sentimental crap.
He’d asked Tiff about going for a drink, which hadn’t hurt Nina at all. That’s his partner, his friend, and the one person who actually knows what today is. She wants him to have that, but Tiffany had pleaded a headache and promised to make it up for him, so Stuart had gone home for a shower and change of clothes, and was now on his way over to Nina’s place. She’d picked up a cupcake too, store bought because she likes him way too much to even consider subjecting him to her baking, and she has it on a plate, one lone candle in it, beside the scotch and the card.
There’s a key in the door, and she can’t help but smile as she makes sure for the tenth time that everything looks okay, and the smile turns into a grin when he walks into the kitchen and looks a little gobsmacked.
“Wh-what’s all this?”
“Happy birthday, Stuart.”
“How…?”
“Tiffany. Is that okay?”
He doesn’t actually answer with words, but the way he more or less drops his bag and crosses the room, his eyes soft, pulling her in for a kiss, speaks volumes.
She kisses him back, grinning into it, and echoes her words from earlier as she finally pulls away.
“Happy birthday, Stuart.”
He’s still not saying anything, just looking at her in the way that makes her stomach still flip flop like that very first night over a year ago, and so Nina settles for tucking her hair behind her ear and laughing a little.
“Well, don’t you want to see what I got you?”
He goes for the scotch first, which Nina is almost happy about.
“Laphroaig…oh this is the good stuff.”
She can’t resist a little teasing.
“What, you thought I’d pick bottom shelf?”
“Nah, I knew you had taste.”
Her voice is a little quieter as she hands him the envelope.
“There’s more.”
He’s opening it and talking simultaneously
“Not sure how you’re going to top the-“
His words die in his throat, and it takes a moment before he gets them back.”
“This is…”
“Families of Freedom Fund…they’ve awarded scholarships to over 3700 kids who lost their parents on 9/11…the donation is in your name, and Doug’s. It…felt appropriate.”
“Nina.”
“I hope it’s okay.”
His voice is low, and she swears his eyes are a bit glassy as he grabs her hand, which feels just a little too similar to how she’d taken his in the field a few months ago.
“It’s amazing. You’re, amazing.”
She lets go of his hand now, opting instead to wrap her arms around his neck and press a soft kiss against his lips, grinning as she feels him kiss back.
They may not be the best at saying the words, but Nina Chase loves Stuart Scola, and she’s starting to think that maybe he loves her too.