February 14, 1941

"I love you," Nick whispered.

Jen was asleep in his bed, and he only ever said such things when he knew she was asleep or in another room and couldn't hear him. It was a lot to say, even if Nick knew what he felt and knew that Jen felt the same and knew that she already knew how he felt. But the words themselves felt like too much to confess. Not while things were going so well after these last two months together. That first month they'd spent last year before Jen broke things off, Nick was worried that he had pushed too hard and pressured her too much. She'd assured him that she'd made a mistake and wasn't going to run scared again. Even so, he didn't want to give her any reason to leave him again. He would put everything at her pace. He wouldn't add anything. He'd follow her lead. And that meant not telling her he loved her, even if they both knew it already.

The alarm rang shrilly, causing Jen to startle in bed. "Sorry," he said quickly, turning over to his bedside table to shut off the damn thing.

She groaned, rubbing her face sleepily. "Why does seven o'clock come earlier every single day?"

"Because we're usually up too late each night," Nick teased.

Jen turned her head on the pillow to smile at him. "Well, we either have to start getting ready for bed earlier or else just get used to being sleep-deprived."

"I'm not going to complain about getting to take you to bed sooner," he pointed out.

"Me neither. But after work and dinner…"

"I know," he interjected. He leaned in to press a swift kiss to her lips. "We're doing fine. And happy Valentine's Day, by the way. I've got a present for you for after breakfast."

Jen's turquoise eyes lit up. "You do?"

"Of course I do. It's Valentine's Day, and you're my gal, aren't you? What's a guy to do but get a gift for his gal?"

She grinned. "No one's ever gotten me a Valentine's gift before."

That made Nick smile in return. It boggled his mind sometimes that Jennifer with all her worldly experience—which might bother some men who cared about virtue and having a woman pure and innocent, unlike Nick—that no one had ever showered her with gifts for Valentine's Day or her birthday or anything else. Nick didn't have the kind of money to be running around buying things for her, and he knew she wasn't the type to want that anyway. But it was still nice to spoil her a little bit. She was the most unpretentious, down-to-earth girl he'd ever known, and she deserved to have someone treat her right. Someone who loved her. And Nick certainly did.

"Come on," Jen said, not waiting for his response. "Let's get dressed and eat so I can have my present." She kissed him again and rolled out of bed.

Nick watched her for a moment, in slight awe, knowing that this was the most ordinary thing in the world for them after the last few weeks, waking up together and getting ready for work and having this ordinary life together inside his brownstone or in her apartment, whichever place they decided to go after work each day. And actually, they should go to her place later today. Jerry deserved a little attention. Nick had developed a strange fondness for the orange cat.

The morning went on as always, Nick and Jen cooking breakfast together they way they used to when they were the Claybournes in Bushwick. Only now they could carry on any conversation they wanted without worrying about being overheard. They were still keeping things under wraps at work, which was fine, but it meant that they were all the freer at home, discussing anything and everything from their current case theories to what to buy at the market for dinner for the weekend. Today they were planning on checking out the fish market on Saturday to see if they could get some clams for a pasta dish they'd had at a restaurant last week that Nick wanted to try to recreate.

They finished their toast and eggs, and Jen quickly cleared their plates. Nick had just taken the final bite of his toast when she snatched the dish from him. "In a hurry?" he laughed.

"I want my present!" she told him, grinning like a kid at Christmas.

Nick wouldn't make her wait any longer. He went to his sock drawer where he'd hidden the box. "Alright, here you go."

She took the box, just slightly larger than her hand, with giddy glee. "By the way, you'll get your present tonight. I thought I might try that thing that—"

"Yes," he said quickly, cutting off whatever she was going to say. He knew it was surely something naughty, and he couldn't have those thoughts in his head when they still had the workday to get through.

Jen laughed and opened the box. She gasped as she ogled the necklace inside. "These aren't real diamonds, are they?"

Nick almost rolled his eyes. "No, I'm a cop, Jen, I can't afford a diamond necklace. But if I could afford one, I'd buy it for her."

She did roll her eyes. "I don't need diamonds, Nick. I don't want them. But this is beautiful," she said. "If we didn't have to go to work, I'd put it on now."

He smiled, glad she liked the gift he'd picked out for her. It was just a silver necklace with glass bits cut to look like diamonds forming little decorative rows and clusters around the neckline. "I'll take you out next weekend and you can wear it. Maybe we can go dancing."

Jennifer looked at him with the most affectionate smile he'd ever seen. "I love you," she said simply.

Nick's knees almost went weak. He'd been saying the same thing to her for weeks in secret. He hadn't expected to hear her say the words to him. "I love you," he answered, still slightly dumbfounded.

She stood up, holding her new necklace in one hand and put her free hand on the back of his neck to pull him down to her, kissing him sweetly. "We've gotta get to work," she whispered.

And with that, she turned and went back to the bedroom to finish getting read. Nick allowed himself to just stand there for a minute and enjoy the beauty of what had just happened. She loved him. He loved her. What a hell of a thing.

April 2, 1941

Jen sat on the sofa in her apartment, idly listening to the news report on the radio. She'd made a casserole for dinner that was still in the oven, and there was nothing to do until it was finished.

They'd just closed a terrible case at work, and it was still bothering her. Nick knew the ones with kids like this upset her, so he left her be. For two weeks now, she'd seen the face of that dead, mutilated little girl whenever she closed her eyes. Horrors like this were expected in Homicide. But after a year and a half, Jen still wasn't used to it. Worse still, Jen had been tasked with talking to the victim's sister who was the only witness to the brutal murder. Five-year-old Rosie had seen her nine-year-old sister Millie be killed by 'the bad man' and it was up to Jennifer to walk the traumatized little Rosie through the whole thing time and again, helping her remember and give them any clue they could possibly sus out from the child's tale.

In the end, Nick and Simon had been the ones to make the arrest, and Jen was glad they'd caught the son of a bitch, but she'd wanted to get him herself. And now that it was all over and reports were filed, she was still feeling a little off.

Oh she'd be fine, she knew. She could shake it off and compartmentalize all the terrible things of the job, but sometimes it took a little time. And so tonight, she and Nick had come home to her apartment and she'd thrown herself in to all the intricate steps of her supper casserole with the beef and bacon and macaroni and mushrooms and tomatoes and onions and peppers and cheese all mixed together and in the dish to bake. Nick had left her to it, knowing she needed some time to herself. He'd put on the radio. And after the casserole went into the oven, she came out to flip through Life Magazine.

She glanced up to see what Nick was up to. He was sitting on the floor, strangely enough, but he was playing some kind of game with Jerry. It was nearly time to feed Jerry, and the cat usually got a bit desperate and loud when he was hungry, but it seemed Nick was sufficiently distracting him.

Jen watched her two boys play and felt herself smile without really realizing it. But that was the thing with Nick. Everything about him was quiet and soft and subtle. He was brilliant and kind and gentle but with it, he was steady and strong and easy to be with. When Jen was upset, he knew to leave her alone but be close by. Sometimes she wanted to talk about it, and he'd be there if she did. But he wouldn't push her. He never pushed. He was always just right there for anything and everything she needed. And now he was sitting on the floor, still in his suit from the workday, and playing with her cat.

It was terrifying sometimes to think about how much she loved him. About how incredibly perfect he was for her. About how lucky she was that the FBI had put them together. The truth was that she couldn't imagine her life without Nick now. He'd proved to her that their romance could exist alongside their work, and she knew she had the best of both worlds with him. The best partner on the squad and the best partner at home.

What would life be like, she wondered, if things could always be like this? If they didn't choose between his house and her apartment but instead lived together and worked together and created a life and a family together? Nick would be a good husband. And a wonderful father.

Jen pressed her lips together, trying not to smile too wide. She'd told him before that she wasn't sure if she wanted children or if she was anywhere near ready for it. But maybe she could be. Maybe if Nick wanted to marry her and create a home and a family, she might be able to do that. With him, she felt sure she could.