He just wishes someone would call him Stuart for a change.

[ Set right before 3x06. ]

I wrote this fic because Agent Scola is my favourite character in the show, and it makes me mad (and it breaks my heart) that no one calls him Stuart, even though he asked them to, and even though everyone else gets constantly called by their first name.

And I know that Tiffany calls him Stuart a couple times in 3x07, but it was to either a) tell him bad news or b) scold him, so that truly doesn't count – also given the fact that she immediately stopped doing that. (Not sure what happens in the show after 3x08 since it hasn't aired in Italy yet, but I sense nothing much has changed.)

By the way: this came out (way) more shippy than I intended it to, oops. Truth be told, I quite like the idea of these two becoming a couple so… fingers crossed?

"Tiffany and Scola, you go there."

"Scola, please take care of that."

"Everybody, listen up! Scola has an update on the case."

"Scola, everything alright there?"

"Maggie and Omar stay in front, Scola and Tiffany go round back."

Scola, Scola, Scola...

He went back to his desk and sat down in front of his computer, ready for his daily five minutes of private, disappointed scowling. He'd vowed not to make a big deal of it, so he never indulged in bitterness, but surely he had the right to feel a bit dejected.

He didn't mind his surname, really, and he didn't mind the law enforcement habit of addressing people by their last name, either—that meant efficiency, clear hierarchy, rules. He could work with rules – hell, in a job like his, not following them could lead to disaster very fast. Still, at times it felt somewhat aseptic and impersonal.

When he first got transferred to the team, he realized that everyone got called by their first name, even and most egregiously by the SAC, and he was pleasantly surprised. Maybe things at work would become a little friendlier now, a little less cold. He couldn't believe that he was about to be addressed by name again, after years. He was excited, even if it was just a small thing.

But really, he should have known. He should have known that nothing would change. For some obscure, inexplicable reason, in a sea of Maggie Jubal Omar Isobel, he was still Scola. Only Scola, always Scola. No matter when, no matter who he was partnered with – Kirsten and Scola will follow suit; Scola and Emily are questioning the suspect; Tiffany and Scola were first on the scene.

It was a silly thing, only worth stewing over for a couple minutes at most. It was the team that was weird, and he shouldn't be complaining (not even in his head) that for him everything followed typical Fed habits. Still, he'd hoped that with a new partner things might change. He had shamelessly asked Tiffany to call him by name on the job, and she'd acknowledged that… But somehow, she'd still ended up only calling him Scola.

Oh well, it was what it was. It was a bit disheartening, though, that his family were the only people who ever called him–

"Stuart!"

He straightened up as if struck by a jolt of electricity, and looked around to locate the source of the voice that had so perfectly completed his train of thought. Striding purposefully towards his desk, a lanyard in her hand and a smile on her face, was Elise. (Was she back already? Damn, the woman had guts.)

She stopped in front of his desk and he blinked at her, still a bit stunned. At last he managed to say "Hi" back, and her smile widened.

"Hi to you too, Stuart." (There it was, another jolt of electricity.) "I realized that, in the midst of all the chaos and then me being on leave and whatnot, well... I never thanked you properly for staying with me back there." She looked down, almost bashfully, and he felt the urge to reach for her hand and squeeze it, and say that he'd readily do it again if only to make her feel better. He didn't, though—he just looked at her slim hands, holding her lanyard like a lifeline; and at her hair brushing the side of her neck, while trying not to think about the thing that had been around it just a couple of weeks before.

"I wanted to ask if maybe you wanted to have coffee with me one of these days?" she said at last, a small smile tugging at her lips.

He felt touched and flattered, and a bit warmer inside, too. "Of course," he answered, nodding. "That'd be lovely."

"Wonderful," she grinned. "I'll let you get back to work now," she said, moving away from his desk.

Before she could round the corner and disappear, he swiveled in his chair and called after her. "Hey, Elise! I'm glad you're back."

"Me too, Stuart."

Third jolt of electricity in as many minutes. Mmh. If that was the effect, maybe it really didn't matter if to everyone he was always and only Scola—he could weather it, as long as she kept calling him Stuart.