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amyscascadingtabs · 3 years

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don’t want to keep secrets just to keep you [chapter 1]

“Actually, I want to add one more rule.” “Yeah?” Jake leans back in his chair, crossing his arms behind his head and flexing his biceps through the green shirt with a smug grin. “You’re not allowed to fall in love with me.” "Won't be a problem."

Amy Santiago doesn't date cops. Jake Peralta's sworn never to date a lawyer again. When a couple of drinks and the returning of a borrowed shirt ends with the two of them in bed together, Amy decides to take control of the situation the best way she knows how: a comprehensive set of rules. There's just one little thing she hadn't anticipated – Jake Peralta is full of surprises.

Written for the B99 Summer 2021 Fic Exchange.

AO3 link // playlist

My contribution to this year’s fic exchange, for @fezzle! @b99fandomevents 💛

1. i never saw you coming (and i’ll never be the same)

He gets out of the car, and before Amy can gather the courage to shout after him, he’s disappeared from her sight.

She leans her forehead against the steering wheel, squeezing her fist and punching it in frustration. It doesn’t feel better, just makes her hand hurt. Amy pretends that’s what’s making her eyes tear up, and not the thought that she just screwed up her chances of ever seeing Jake Peralta again.

five months earlier.

The cop is five minutes late entering the courtroom, and Amy vows to dislike him from that point onward.

What's worse is that he doesn't seem ashamed. He simply gives Judge Stewart an apologetic grin, runs a hand through his already messy hair, and sits down on the bench next to the sergeant Amy recognizes as Terry Jeffords. Amy gives him a polite faked smile to tell him she's noted this presence and she's going to win this case, but the cop doesn't seem to notice the toxicity in her facial expression, because she gets another wide grin back. Judging from the colorful marks on his teeth, it looks like he had candy for breakfast – could it be gummy bears? Either way, Amy's respect for the man sinks even lower.

At least she won't have to worry about him, she tells herself. She already knows this case is about to be a win.

That is until it turns out this man has a reply for everything. She’d been certain the evidence against her client was circumstantial at best, nowhere near enough to get him convicted on, and the notes she’d gone through from the initial police questioning had lacked significant information. It had been nothing short of sloppy, and she’d entered the courthouse this morning filled with glowing confidence. That same confidence is now seeping away, dripping onto the polished floors of the courtroom in exchange for heated frustration as it turns out the detective – Jake Peralta, she learns – was present at the scene earlier than Amy had gathered, and from the vantage point he had, saw her client running from the corner store at full speed.

“Would you say it’s possible my client was running for a different reason?” She asks, staring coldly into the detective’s eyes as she speaks. “Such as exercising, perhaps?”

“Well, he was carrying a huge green backpack, identical to the one he was wearing when my partner Charles caught him ten minutes later. So, no,” he says, meeting her look with a smug smile of his own. “I would say that’s unlikely.”

“But not impossible?”

“Considering we also found the stolen goods in that same backpack, I’d say the chance is pretty solid it was him.”

“The bags couldn’t have been switched? Or, as my client claims, the goods couldn’t have been dropped in there by someone who wanted to get rid of them?”

“With all due respect,” says Jake Peralta, and the self-assuredness in his voice is enough for her to know the case is lost. “The streets were more crowded than a Taylor Swift concert, your honor. Someone would have seen something.”

It’s late Friday afternoon by the time Amy returns to the office of Newsom & Associates, but there’s still plenty of her coworkers left to watch as she throws her briefcase on top of the chair before closing the door to her office and digging out her pack of shame cigarettes from the bottom drawer of her desk. The only window in the room opens out to a back alley with trash cans and forgotten bikes, which is a drab view most of the time but comes in handy for secret shame-smoking. She closes her eyes and leans back against the wall, trying to savor the first inhale. She hates the habit and always tells herself she’s going to quit soon, but at times when work stresses her out like this, there’s no better fix. It’s all Jake Peralta’s fault, anyway. He’d waved at her when they’d left the courtroom, looking genuinely pleased to see her, and that had only worsened her frustration. It’s one thing being defeated – it’s worse when the winner acts like it wasn’t even a big deal.

“You should stop that.” The sound of Rosa’s voice appearing in the doorway to Amy’s office causes her to inhale too much smoke, coughing and tearing up as she hurries to extinguish the cigarette butt on the windowsill. “It’s gross.”

“I needed it,” Amy coughs again before drying her eyes with the sleeve of her blazer. “You should’ve been there. That fucking detective ruined my defense.”

“So? It happens. Doesn’t make you a bad lawyer. Stop pitying yourself.”

“You’re just saying that because you win nearly all your cases,” Amy mumbles. “And everyone’s terrified of you.”

Rosa does a little shrug, but Amy thinks she can spot the hint of a smile on her lips. She can’t be certain, though. Rosa almost never smiles, but that’s not nearly the most terrifying thing about her. She also rides her motorcycle to court and wears leather jackets and skin-tight black jeans to trials, and somehow no one's ever dared to police her on it. Amy once asked her out of curiosity if putting on a blazer would really hurt that much, and the stare she got back told her she’d be a fool to make that mistake again.

“Either way, it's not that. It was that cop who ruined everything. I mean, he showed up late, for god’s sake, with candy in his teeth and a wrinkled suit! But he somehow had an answer and explanation for everything,” Amy snorts. “And he smiled the whole time like he’d already won. And he referenced Taylor Swift! During the trial! Who does that?”

Rosa lets out a laugh. “You're a Swift hater? God, please don't tell me you took Kanye’s side too.”

“I didn't – that's beside the point!”

“Which is?”

“That he has zero respect for the sacred rules of a courtroom, and gets away with it all because of that super-charm smile.”

“Yeah, you mentioned the smile. Twice.”

“It was just so…” She clenches her fist until her red nails press into her palm to the point of pain, then releases it. “It's fine. I’ll win my next case, and there are lots of cops in New York. I probably won't ever see him again.”

Amy can barely hide her frustration in court the next week when she hears the doors open and looks up from the papers she was sorting, only to see Jake Peralta for the second time in her life. He’s on time today, which she supposes is progress, but there are stains on his shirt that seem to be coming from the can of orange soda he’s holding in his hand. She wonders if it's his breakfast. If that's his diet, he looks surprisingly fit in a grey suit for it.

He grins again when he sees her, raising his hand in a lazy wave. Amy gives him a forced smile, then returns to her papers. She’ll have to make sure to win this time.

But despite her confidence and very best efforts, she loses to Jake Peralta yet another time.

And another.

It's not that she's suddenly magically unlucky, because she still manages to win several other cases, but every time Jake Peralta shows up to testify, without fault, Amy loses.

It infuriates her.

The worst part is that Jake seems oblivious to her anger. He smiles at her every time they leave the courtroom, even though she returns them with little to no genuineness at all. She once spots him doing a childish victory gesture outside the courthouse, but he never once takes the opportunity to brag about his win to her face.

Aside from his surprisingly good manners when it comes to bragging, though, he's a mess. There's always some kind of stain on his shirt or his cheek that he seems unaware of, his ways of describing things involve one too many pop culture references for Amy’s liking, and she starts preparing to meet him every time a detective is five minutes late. She wonders if no one's ever told him how one is supposed to behave in a courtroom, but he’s usually accompanied by the precinct’s sergeant, so that seems unlikely. The more likely option, Amy figures, is that he just doesn't seem to find it that important; especially considering he seems to get away with it every single time.

She swears it's all because of that stupid infectious smile.

It pleases Amy to no end when she learns that Jake Peralta is going to be the witness in one of the strongest cases she’s had in a long while. The client was clearly acting in self-defense, she has a witness of her own who can testify to that, and although she knows that nothing is for certain until the verdict falls, she’s got a good feeling about this one. Finally, the day has come for Jake Peralta to watch her win.

At first, the state attorney’s case seems solid. Jake is assisted by a short, round-faced man with dark brown hair and an expression that looks like he’s seconds away from apologizing for taking up everyone’s time, but his suit is matched and perfectly straight and he gets right to the point without any odd references, so Amy still earns a fair amount of respect for detective Charles Boyle. He and Jake had entered the subway car after hearing about a fight taking place, and stepped on just in time to watch her client aim a closed-fist punch at the face of the man on top of him. It’s clear and convincing, but Amy knows that after the recess, it will be her time to shine. She loves these moments, when it’s obvious the other side thinks they have it in the bag but she knows something they don’t, and they have no idea what’s coming. She knows trials are about justice and not personal victories – but she’s only human. Winning is always a thrill.

She’s thinking about how she’s going to be celebrating her win later this evening when Jake Peralta bumps into her at the coffee shop neighboring the courthouse. As in, literally bumps into her, with his elbow when he hurries forward to grab a plastic cup with whipped cream and so much caramel syrup on top of the coffee that Amy pities his dentist.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry… wait, it's you!” He shines up as if he’d just seen a past good friend, and Amy’s once more taken aback by how polite he is. A lot of cops she meets during trials either tend to make fun of her profession or glare bitterly at her from a distance, but Jake's doing neither. He even reaches out his free hand to shake hers, so she accepts. “Jake Peralta – wow, you have a very firm handshake.”

“I took a seminar. Amy Santiago.”

“Where?” He asks, but she ignores him and moves forward in line to order her coffee with milk.

“Nothing for your client? Wow. I’d expected you to have better manners than that, Santiago.”

“I offered, but he wanted to spend recess with his partner for moral support. See?” She raises a brow at him. “I do have manners.”

There's that smile again, up close this time, and Amy's relieved when the barista hands her the coffee so she can hide the involuntary blush in her cheeks. She never noticed he had dimples before.

“So, how are you feeling about the rest of the trial, then? Ready to go defend the guilty guy?”

“Innocent until proven guilty, Peralta. Famously one of the most sacred principles in the American justice system. And I was born ready.”

“And lose. The whole question was, are you ready to go defend the guilty guy and lose, and you said you were born that way.” Jake grins in a way that makes him look like an overgrown mischievous school kid. Maybe not that far off, Amy thinks.

“Twist my words all you want, I am winning this case.” She hesitates for a moment, noticing Jake's detective partner looking at the two of them from a table in the corner of the room. Not normally something she'd be that creeped out by, if it hadn't been for the fact that the man isn’t tearing his eyes away from them, and he looks weirdly overjoyed. “Uhm, is detective Boyle okay? He's staring at us pretty intensely.”

“Huh? Oh yeah, he has… an eye condition.” Jake turns around and mouths something that looks to be BOYLE, and the man rolls his eyes before stalking away. “Ignore him. Anyway… so what do you think about the judge?”

Amy's about to launch into a description of her good experience with judge Myers when someone brushes past her with their iced coffee in a hurry, losing control of the plastic cup. The unsecured lid wobbles, and before Amy realizes what’s about to happen, cold coffee splashes onto her earlier pristine white blouse. “Fuck!” She reaches for a bunch of paper napkins and tries to dab the worst away with them, but the milky coffee is already seeping through the fabric and leaving an obvious stain that her blazer can’t hide.

“What a jerk,” Jake mutters, glaring in the direction of where the stranger disappeared.

“Never mind that! I don’t have another shirt! I can’t go into a courtroom looking like this! Unlike you, I actually care about whether my clothes have giant stains on them!”

“First of all, rude, and second of all, they’re not giant.”

“I don’t care. I’m screwed. Fuck, I don’t have time to run back home before the trial starts – I guess I could call Rosa –”

“Hey, hey.” Jake holds up his hands as if trying to calm her down, which only makes Amy more frustrated. “I know this is kind of crazy, but, I have a shirt in my car that I was planning to return to my ex. But emphasis on ex, so…” He shrugs. “You could borrow it?”

Amy considers her options. On the one hand, she figures there’s about an eighty percent chance that whatever Jake has in his car also has some kind of mysterious stain on it, but on the other hand, she took the subway today and there's no way she’ll make it to her apartment and back before the court is back in session. Asking for a longer recess is an option, but making everyone wait simply because she needs a change of clothes makes her too uncomfortable to even consider.

“Fine,” she relents. “Where's your car?”

Jake's car turns out to be an old Mustang, which Amy can tell even from her strictly limited car-knowledge is pretty impressive, but she doesn't understand how he can find anything in there. The backseat is a mess of empty orange soda bottles, a couple of frisbees, candy wrappers, what looks to be cartoons and old CDs, and the cup holders have shaving foam next to another can of orange soda. She's equally surprised and impressed when he pulls out a clean, dark blue charmeuse blouse. Whoever Jake's ex-girlfriend was, she seems to have both taste and money.

“You're totally saving my day today,” she says as he gives it to her. “You really didn't have to.”

“Prove that cops aren't all bad?” Amy rolls her eyes, and Jake laughs. “Just kidding. You have to give it back, though.”

“As soon as I’ve washed it. Wait, we have to be able to get in touch.” She digs in the inside pocket of her briefcase and pulls out two of her business cards. “I’m assuming you don't have any, so write your number on the back of that one.”

“Rude, but correct.” He scribbles down something on one of the cards before giving it back. “I’ll see you up there, then… Amy Santiago.”

Something about the way he says her name, slowly and with perfect pronunciation, makes her want to hear it again. She hurries back into the building and toward the bathrooms, hopefully before he can tell that she's blushing.

“The defense may call the next witness.”

“The defense calls Elinor Simons.” Amy can feel everyone's eyes on her as well as the witness as a young girl, no more than eighteen, walks up to the stand. She's pale, but she looks determined, and Amy gives her a comforting smile as she swears the oath.

Elinor’s voice trembles at her first words, but Amy keeps steady eye contact with her, and soon she’s speaking louder and less hesitant. She had been on her way to her friend’s house when she entered the same subway car as the two young men, and had overheard the two of them fighting over something. Sitting only a few seats away from them in the near-empty car, she’d noticed the defendant looking scared, and out of curiosity, had turned off her music. She’d heard the man who’d later gotten attacked – Mr. Lorentz – scream that the defendant was an asshole, and then she’d seen him push him to the floor, much unlike the way the prosecution had described a course of events in which both men had slipped. It had scared her, so she’d gotten up to walk away, but before she could move she’d seen Mr. Lorentz leaning down.

“It looked like he was about to hit the defendant,” she says without wavering, and Amy can see a few of the jury members nodding in understanding. “And even if they were about the same size, Mr. Lorentz looked really strong. The defendant tried, but it seemed to me like he was unable to get up. I remember thinking this wasn’t going to end well, so I headed for the end of the car before they noticed me.”

“And you’re sure of what you saw?”

“Completely sure. I only found out later that the defendant was a cousin of my sister’s boyfriend, which is how I learned about the trial.”

Amy nods and clasps her hands together, trying to assume a confident stance as she keeps her eyes focused on the witness stand. “Elinor, in the position he was in, do you believe that the defendant would have been scared?”

“I think anyone would have been.”

“So the punch witnesses watched the defendant throw, could it have been in self-defense?”

“Yes. Yes, I think so.”

Amy smiles. “Thank you. No further questions.”

The prosecution’s closing arguments are short and precise, sticking entirely to the part of the events that took part after the police walked in. The district attorney, a balding man in his fifties, as good as overlooks Elinor’s testimony in favor of focusing in on detailed descriptions of the headaches Mr. Lorentz had experienced after the event, and that alone is enough to make Amy’s blood boil; but instead she just sits there, waiting with a polite smile on her lips.

Finally, the other attorney sits down, and the judge nods at Amy to stand up. During her very first trials, this moment used to freak her out – everyone’s eyes on her and waiting expectantly – but with time she’s come to love this. It reminds her of the thrill of getting the last word in a heated fight with her siblings when she was younger, only now, she doesn’t have to shout to be heard. Everyone’s already listening.

“Your Honor, ladies and gentlemen of the jury: it’s correct that the defendant hit Mr. Lorentz on that train. He admits to doing so himself.” Amy nods to the young man sitting next to her, fidgeting nervously with the cuffs on his shirt. “But there is one key aspect which the prosecution has so conveniently chosen to ignore, and that is the events which led up to Mr. Petersen’s actions. A background which he not only has explained clearly himself, but which is also backed up by Ms. Simmons’ testimony.” She gestures with her hand to Elinor.

“You see, Mr. Petersen wasn’t acting unprovoked. When the incident happened, he had been pushed to the floor, and like both my client and the witness described, he was unable to get up. Mr. Lorentz himself admits to practicing weightlifting; he’s not a weak man, and in the moment, he was clearly upset with the defendant. As Ms. Simmons put it… “ She takes a break to gather the attention of everyone in the room. “Anyone in that position would have been terrified.”

“Under New York Law, Penal Law paragraph thirty-five point fifteen, a person is justified in using physical force against another, when that person is under the reasonable belief that the physical force is necessary to defend the person from what they reasonably believe to be the illegal imminent use of force or the illegal use of force. Mr. Petersen was stuck, and under the reasonable belief that Mr. Lorentz could hurt him unless he managed to free himself. He acted in self-defense, which I remind you that the prosecution has not been able to disprove. In fact, the case against Mr. Petersen cannot be proved against reasonable doubt, which means that you must find him… not guilty.”

From the other side of the room, she swears she can feel Jake’s eyes on her. When she looks up, she sees him mouthing nice job.

“What did you say he looked like, now again? Except for crazy hot and adorable?” Kylie takes another sip of her mojito, spying over the crowded bar.

“Okay, I said neither of those things.”

Kylie shrugs. “Didn’t have to.”

“Ugh. Whatever. Brown hair, brown eyes, medium height, I guess kind of a bigger nose… and I don’t know what he wears outside of court, but there was a leather jacket in the front seat of his car, so maybe that?” She strains her neck to try and see through the Friday night crowd. She’s never been to this particular Brooklyn bar before, but Jake had suggested it when Amy asked about a good place to give him back the shirt, and she’d figured after a long week, she might as well treat herself to a couple of after-work drinks with a friend. After being asked about the so-called mystery hottie five times, though, she’s starting to regret bringing Kylie along.

“Mm, that’s like, all the guys in here… oh, wait, that one’s waving to you!” Kylie points to a figure near the door, elbowing Amy in the side and causing her to nearly choke on her wine. She’s still coughing when Jake walks up to them, trying to offer him a smile while drying her eyes. Jake looks politely confused, but shakes Kylie’s hand in the meantime.

“I’ll leave you two alone,” she says with a meaning wink to Amy before sliding off the leather barstool, leaving it for Jake. “Have a good night!”

“Ignore her.” Amy sighs. “Sorry, I…”

“No, no worries,” Jake says, and the honest care in his expression makes her feel oddly warm. “You okay?”

“Yeah, sorry.” She waves a dismissive hand and picks up the dry-cleaning bag hanging on the back of her chair. “Well, here’s the shirt. Thank you for the loan. Or thank your ex, I suppose.”

“Dry-cleaned, really? You truly are type A.”

“What about it?”

“Nothing, it makes sense.” He nods to the glass in her hand. “Celebrating Tuesday’s win?”

“Something like that. It was Monday, though,” she can’t stop herself from correcting him. “I don’t get a lot of time off. Gotta make the best out of it.”

“Yeah, me neither. Do you mind if I join you for another drink? Or maybe you should do water, in case you choke again?”

Something about the way he poses it like a challenge makes her take the glass, put it to her lips, and swallow the rest of the wine in one gulp. “I think I can handle it.”

They pay for their own drinks, because whatever this meeting is, it’s definitely not a date, and it makes Amy relieved that Jake doesn’t seem to think so either.

“A toast,” he suggests. “To your win this week. I gotta give it to you, those closing statements were solid.”

“To justice,” Amy says, and they raise their beer bottles in unison. “And my win. Finally.”

“Yeah, what has it been, like, five wins for me?”

“Four, but dream on, Peralta.”

Jake laughs. The dimples in his cheeks become even more prominent when he laughs, Amy notes. “Have you always been this intense about winning cases, then? Or is it something that comes with law school? Like there’s a class in being petty about this stuff?”

You’re intense too, she thinks, but doesn’t say it out loud. “Maybe. I have seven brothers, and I was the only girl. I got pretty good at winning fights using other things than physical strength when I was a kid. Actually, sometimes physical strength, too.”

“I feel like you could beat someone up if you wanted to. You could surprise them.”

“Oh, I could most definitely beat someone up if I wanted to. But I stuck to arguing. I got good at it. And I always had good grades, so I ended up at Columbia, and I’ve never really regretted it.” She takes a swig of her beer. “Not even when cops call me the devil.”

“I wouldn’t call you the devil,” Jake says. “I mean, do I think you lack a bit of a moral compass? Probably. But each to their own.”

She leans her head a little bit to the side, eyeing him closely. “Why do you think that?”

“Well, you have to defend people that you know did awful things, right? Doesn’t that make you feel sick sometimes?”

“I don’t have to defend their actions. Most times, it’s not even about that. It’s about making sure the trial is fair, the evidence is sufficient and their rights are respected, so that if there’s a conviction, it’s actually beyond any reasonable doubt. I like to believe most people are better than their worst moments. I see it as my job to make sure they’re treated that way.”

“Huh.” Jake nods slowly. “Guess I never thought of it that way.”

“Plus,” she winks, “someone’s gotta hold you guys accountable, right?”

“Fine.” He shakes his head. “Hey, did you say you went to Columbia? My captain’s husband teaches law there. Did you ever have a Kevin Cozner?”

“No way! Your captain is Raymond Holt?” She’s speaking way too loudly, she can tell from the way other people are glancing at her, but Jake looks entertained. “Sorry, it’s just – Professor Cozner was my favorite constitutional law teacher. I still send him and Raymond Christmas cards every year!”

“That doesn’t surprise me in the slightest.” Jake grins. “But, how weird is that? Almost like the universe is bringing us together or something.”

Amy thinks that it’s not that weird, since Kevin must teach hundreds of students every year that g on to become lawyers, but she kind of wants to keep seeing that smile on Jake’s face forever, so she nods. “So weird.”

They order another drink, plus some chips and nuts when Jake realizes he forgot to eat dinner, and move to another table in the back of the room. Amy’s surprised how comfortable she feels in his presence. It’s like she can’t wipe the smile off her face but doesn’t want to, and with time and a little more alcohol, jokes that she barely would have noticed on any other day become laugh-out-loud funny. It feels natural, even though she’s not sure how, and she tries not to glance at the clock on the wall when he doesn’t either. She’s got work to do tomorrow and she can’t stay out forever, but she doesn’t want to be reminded that this evening has to end at some point.

“So what made you become a cop, then?” She asks when she realizes she’s the only one who’s shared her origin story tonight. “Childhood superhero dreams?”

Jake shines up like he’s been waiting for the question all night. “Oh, that’s easy. Die Hard.”

“Really?”

“For sure. Actually, my mom said I was always good at protecting people, so I ended up doing it for a job. But I think that’s bullshit. It was definitely Die Hard.”

“I’ve never seen it,” Amy confesses, and Jake stares at her like she just insulted his entire being. “But if you want a cop movie, my top three’s Training Day, Lethal Weapon, and Fargo.”

“Wrong, wrong, and wrong! How can you not have seen Die Hard? It’s classic, man!”

“I just never did! How many lawyer movies have you seen, then?”

“Uhm…” Jake squints. “Charles made me watch Legally Blonde once? It was pretty good, honestly.”

“Well, duh, that movie is a cinematic masterpiece and a feminist work of art. How feminist is Die Hard, from a scale of one to ten?”

“Hey! Holly Gennaro does plenty of cool stuff throughout the movies! You’re just going to have to watch them yourself.”

“I can almost guarantee you I won’t.”

“Fine, but you’re missing out.” He grabs a couple of peanuts from the jar between them, throwing them in the air and catching them in his mouth. “Cool trick, right?”

Amy raises an eyebrow. “Is this what you do at work all day?”

“I did teach myself that during stakeouts, but no. Whatever. Throw me another one.” She does, and he catches it again, this time almost sliding off the barstool in the process. She laughs a bubbling laugh as he does it another time. “Now you.”

“Fine. Try me.” The peanut flies through the air between them, and she tries to dive for it, but it just ends up landing at her feet. “Okay, another one.” She misses that one too. “Okay, there must be something wrong with these nuts.”

“Title of your sextape.”

“Title of my what?”

“Nevermind.” Jake laughs. “You just need some practice. Maybe at work? It could liven up a trial.”

“Nuh-uh, don’t need practice. Just need a better tactic.” Without thinking, she grabs a handful of them this time, throwing them in the air. This time, she catches a few of them in her mouth, while the rest end up spread over the couch and floor. “The key is volume!”

“Yeah, and the bartender is looking at you like he wants to kill you, so maybe don’t do it again or we’ll get thrown out.”

“It’s fine, I’m a lawyer.”

“That phrase works well to get out of trouble?”

“If you know what you’re doing. We could order more drinks to keep him happy?”

“Shots?”

“I’m down if you’re down.”

Jake orders a Kamikaze shot for each of them, and as she reaches forward to take the second glass, her hand brushes against the top of his for a moment longer than necessary, resting there. It’s warm, and it feels calloused but somehow soft at the same time. They look at each other, his light brown eyes staring into hers, and she feels instantly hyper-aware that they’re around far, far, too many people.

She lets go of his hand, taking the shot and swallowing it before anyone can notice what’s happening. It smells like sour hand sanitizer and burns going down, and she laughs at Jake’s grimace when he drinks his.

“God, every time.” He shakes his head and runs a hand through his hair. “Hey, I know this is crazy, but… do you maybe want to get out of here? We could have another drink at my place… watch Die Hard… whatever.”

“Mm, yeah. Maybe I should check that the shirt gets back to your place properly?”

“Shirt? What shirt? Oh, right, fuck, the shirt!” Jake spins in place, rushing back to the table where they were just sat. “Shit, I probably spilled beer on it, Sophia’s going to be pissed now...”

“It’s still in the bag, smartass.” Amy shows him. “Ta-da. Shirt’s still clean. Comes in handy being type A sometimes, huh?”

Jake sighs. “I know you're making fun of me, but I could seriously kiss you right now.”

Maybe it’s the four drinks, maybe it’s the thrill that comes with how rarely she does this, or maybe it’s just sheer and wild impulse, but Amy finds herself whispering,

“Maybe we should get out of here, then.”

Amy learns a lot of things that night.

She learns that Jake Peralta is a seriously good kisser, tasting faintly of orange soda beneath the alcohol and salt, and that being pressed against his front door with his hands protecting her head strikes the perfect balance between feeling adventurous and safe. She learns that he’s never really quiet, soft moans and sighs filling the room in the breaks between their kisses, but that the sound only makes her want more.

She learns that he wears even more layers than her. Beneath the leather jacket and hoodie is a checkered blue flannel that has way too many buttons for her liking right now, and she curses her slight tipsiness while working at them one by one. When she's finally done, Jake pulls the grey t-shirt over his head, and she barely has time to pause to admire how he somehow can look fit despite that catastrophic diet, or the curls on his chest that are begging for her to run her fingers through them, before he's asking “my turn?”. She learns that Jake Peralta is impatient, that his hands work fast on the buttons of her cerise shirt, and that he gets adorably confused when he can't find the button on her suit pants.

“It's on the side,” she tells him and shows him the zipper, and then they're both giggling until she kisses him like that and it's back on again.

She learns that his hands feel good, sliding slowly up the sides of her stomach and back and rubbing against her shoulder blades. She unclasps the white t-shirt bra for him, smiling to herself as he swallows quickly.

“God, you’re hot,” he whispers, and the soft bites he trails down her chest and stomach make her feel that way, too.

They move to his bed, leaving a trail of clothes behind them, and then she’s underneath him and breathing hard as his mouth moves lower, closer. The anticipation of it all is driving her mad, but then he looks up at her and asks “okay?” with the most sincere and caring expression, and Amy’s had very, very few one-night-stands in her life, but she’s certainly never had one like this.

“Okay,” she nods, and there’s that familiar grin again, but this time it makes her feel warm in a very specific place.

She learns that Jake Peralta can do a whole lot more with his mouth than talking people’s ears off. His breath ghosts over her through her underwear at first, warming her up even though it’s barely even necessary, and then he’s finally pulling down the black material and helping her kick them off. His tongue is careful at first, just tasting her as if to gauge her expression, but then she nods at him to continue and the next second, her head is thrown back as she lets out a gasp.

She learns that he likes it when she pulls his hair. At first, her hands are just lightly tangling in it for practicality, but then she holds on tighter as a means of control when her legs begin to tense up and the familiar pressure is starting to rise. She’s raising her hips slightly only to lower them again, helping him get her there, and the curls of his hair are just begging to be pulled.

“Do that again,” he pauses to say, so she tugs his hair harder and he straight-up moans.

She learns that he can make her scream, which she wasn’t expecting, and she rocks through the euphoric waves and pants and practically melts into the bed as she comes down from it.

“That good?” He winks, and she wants to roll her eyes, but he did just make her come harder than she remembers doing in a long time, so she kisses the smile off of him instead, tasting her arousal on his lips.

She learns that he's respectful and a gentleman, telling her that they can stop this here if she'd rather, but she doesn’t want to, and they don’t. He has to rifle through the drawer in his bedside table for a while before he finds a condom – maybe he doesn’t do this as often as she’d thought, maybe it’s another sign of his poor organization skills, but he finds one soon enough so she’s not sure she cares – and then it’s a little bit of a blur, but she rolls it on him with precise strokes and lowers herself on top of him and oh my god.

She learns that when he looks at her, when he touches her, it makes her feel powerful and special all at once. He plays with her boobs as she sets the pace, his thumbs rolling against her nipples in a way she didn’t realize she liked, and she picks up her rhythm, clenching around him and leaning back on his raised thighs.

She learns just how enjoyable it is to watch him fall apart underneath her. His pace stutters and he curses, groaning a confession of how close he is, and she could almost come again from watching him alone but she brings two fingers to her clit and touches herself anyway. He finishes before her, spilling out inside the condom with a moan that she can only imitate, collapsing against his chest as she brings herself to orgasm again right after him.

When they're done learning, they collapse together in his bed. For a moment, Amy considers turning around and calling a cab home, because that would be the most responsible thing to do, but then Jake throws an arm around her to pull her closer, and after all, she's still a little tipsy.

What harm could it possibly do, anyway?

Sharp, unforgiving morning light wakes Amy up before her alarm the next morning. She must have forgotten to close the blinds last night, she thinks, and rolls over on the other side so the light doesn't hurt her eyes. She expects the usual greeting of a sea of pillows, and has to stop herself from letting out a yelp of surprise when instead, she's hit with a wall of Jake sleeping with his back to her. A vague memory of them falling asleep like this hits her. He’d wanted to be the little spoon, she remembers.

At first, knowing that intimate fact about him makes her feel proud. Then it makes her panic.

She jumps out of bed, throwing off her part of the comforter in search of her clothes. She finds her underwear and bra together with her shirt, trying to dress as quietly as possible, quick before Jake wakes up and discovers that she's half-naked in his apartment and they have to have a very, very awkward talk –

“Amy? What are you doing?”

Too late.

She freezes on the spot, chewing on her lip as she fumbles for an explanation. Jake’s eyes rake over her with curiosity, which somehow feels a lot more exposing today than it did last night, and it's making her lose track of her words. His bed head curls and disoriented smile is decidedly not helping her focus.

“We slept together last night,” she manages.

Jake’s smile grows wider and prouder as he sits up fully in bed. Amy blushes as she notices the shadow of two hickeys way too close to his neck to be professional.

“Yeah, I was there.”

“Very funny.” She sees her pants thrown across the back of a massage chair and quickly reaches for them. “But this… You know this can’t be a thing, right? Just so we're on the same page about it.”

Jake frowns. “What do you mean with a thing?”

“This – us – we can't date, Jake. I know that. You know that.”

He’s silent for a moment before he fakes a shudder. “Yeah, yeah, no. I’ve dated lawyers before. Never ends well.”

“You have?” The reveal surprises her. “It doesn't matter. This can’t happen.”

“I know.”

“Good,” she exhales. “I’m just going to find my clothes, then, and then I’m going to leave.”

“Hey, wait.” He twists his hands together, bringing them to his chin with a smile. “This is going to sound weird, but… even if nothing can happen between us, I’m still glad we had sex last night.”

The confession takes her by surprise, and Amy wonders again if she just doesn't know anything about one-night-stands. Sleep together, have fun, sneak out in the morning before anything can go deeper – isn't that how it's supposed to go? If so, she's majorly failing, because she can't stop herself from giving him another shy smile in return.

“Me too. Just because, we were like… really good at it.”

“Stupid good!” Jake exclaims. “It makes no sense!”

“We still can't date, though,” she reminds him. “So how do we work this out?”

“Well, it sort of looked like you were planning to just leave, and I’m not going to stop you if that's your choice, but… there is one more option.”

“What are you thinking?”

“We could be friends with benefits,” he shrugs. “None of the commitment, none of the weird incompatibilities between a cop and a lawyer, just us and some stupid good sex.”

“Friends with benefits? Do the kids really say that, still?”

“I’m saying you could consider it.”

Amy's first instinct is to protest, to say absolutely not and leave on the spot. Her relationship history may not contain that many names, but at least they’ve all been fairly straightforward and conventional. She's never done something like this before, and the mere idea of jumping into something so unknown with someone like Jake scares her shitless.

Then again, she's also never been with someone like Jake. Yesterday hadn't been a date, but it had still been better than all the awkward dinners and half-hearted walks she's been at since she broke up with Teddy a year ago. And the sex – well, she'd be lying if she said she wasn't already thinking of doing that again.

“There would need to be rules,” she says.

“Sure, we can come up with some.”

“I’ll write a contract.”

“We need a contract?”

“Yeah,” she decides. “If this is going to work, we need a comprehensive set of rules, and they need to be written down, because I don't trust you not to adjust them in your head last minute.”

“How am I attracted to you? But, fine.”

Amy shakes her head, closing the last button on the shirt that had been left unbuttoned until now. “So… I’ll put together a draft and bring it over tonight? Your place?”

Jake gapes at her for a moment like he can't believe what he hears, but then he nods. “I’m free.”

“Cool. I’ll see you tonight, then.” With that, she pulls on her socks and shoes, leaving before she can freak out again.

“Cool, cool,” she hears just before closing the door. “Friends with benefits. Cool, cool, cool, cool… cool.”

#b99fandomevents #b99 summer 2021 fic exchange #my writing #b99 #peraltiago #jake x amy #b99 fic #b99 fanfiction #jake x amy fanfiction #peraltiago fanfiction #MY FIRST AU PLEASE ENJOY #three more parts to come hahah but i'm only going to post one before the deadline #read on ao3 if you want line breaks since tumblr has ruined those

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letsperaltiago · 3 years

Text

somewhere only we know

This is my entry for the B99 Summer 2021 Fic Exchange and it's for lovely Johanna aka. @amyscascadingtabs <3 I picked the prompt: "Jake and Amy going on a babymoon and enjoying some time together before everything changes for good."

It's very simple and just pure good, happy parents to be-vibes so yeah :) I initially wanted to add smut but didn't have the time to write it :(( If you feel like it's something you'd like, then feel free to lemme know! I can always add a chapter two heh. Anyways, enjoy!!

Rating: G

Words: 2.7k

Read here or on Ao3

“Jake, this is… amazing.”

This seems to be all Amy can come up with as the hotel room presents itself before her. Better or bigger words seem to be lacking from her otherwise excellent vocabulary but she blames it on the fact that she’s been carrying a tiny human for the past 35 weeks - not that she’s complaining. It’s been hard, both physically and mentally, and there are a few more weeks to go but by the end of it all, she’ll be holding her little baby boy.

She’s tired and every inch of her body swollen and/or sore, but more importantly she’s eager and excited. Jake is too, if not even more than her, and this has resulted in the current scene: their babymoon.

“You like it?”

The way Jake asks her, eyes shining with innocent expectation and voice laced with childish excitement has her imagining just how their little boy will turn out to be. She can’t hold back her smile. This man will walk to the end of the earth to make her happy, essentially already has during this pregnancy, and the babymoon is just as much for him as it is for her.

She turns on her heels to face him, showing him the bright smile that’s plastered on her makeup-free face which has gained some freckles during her pregnancy.

“You could’ve planned a trip to a dumpster and I would still love it.”

Hands cupping his scruffy cheeks she pulls him in for a short but tender kiss that even so many years later, after thousands of kisses, has his toes curl in excitement. She truly would’ve stayed anywhere as long as Jake was with her. Although she does appreciate the fact that she’s standing in a beautiful lakeview suite at the LakeHouse Inn.

“Should we reassess how much we refer to dumpsters and other gross locations when we declare our love for each other?”

She chuckles at his comment, lips resonating against the corner of his grin.

“Should we?” She slowly slides her hands to the back of her neck, entangling her fingers to keep her latched onto him even as she pulls away to flash him a pretend contemplative expression.

Eyebrows cocked in playfulness, they share an indicative look in silence, only for them to break it in unison. “Nahh.”

“Right? It’s what makes us us.” Jake pulls her in by the hips which are carrying their son.

Everything about Amy reminds him of their little miracle and makes him feel all tingly and excited. One look at her, one touch, and he forgets about the rest of the world and its crappiness. He has Amy and together with the tiny human in her belly, she is his entire universe.

“Exactly.”

She closes the gap between them (as much as she can with the full-blown balloon shape of her stomach).

“So,” she mumbles against his lips, “what are your plans for us?”

Sadly, the 3-hour drive from home didn’t do wonders for her heavily pregnant body and even though she won’t admit it out loud, she hopes her husband’s plans for tonight will demand the bare minimum of her. She feels his lips and body withdraw, prompting her eyes open however the mischievous smile that meets her has a dimmed anxious feeling creeping over her - he does remember she’s 35 weeks pregnant, right?

“I know that look, Peralta.” Her voice is distrustful, and after 7 years together she should know better than giving in to his teasing, but her suspicious air only fuels his fire and desire to mess with her.

“In honor of my incredible and always so organized wife, there’s a tightknit schedule waiting for us.”

Tightknit schedule? Amy would usually be beaming at these words but right then and there, swollen legs, hungry and feeling everything but hot and fit after the drive, she aches to fall back onto the bed and sleep for days. It’s huge, king-sized, with crispy white sheets and the fluffy pillows are definitely calling her name. Although, the fact that Jake has everything planned out for their last vacation together, just the two of them, does pull on some heartstrings. He loves her so much and she loves him so much too. So much that she (almost) doesn’t turn a hair when he proudly starts listing their schedule for the evening and following day.

“So right now it’s 4 PM which means unpacking-time. At 6 we have a dinner reservation at this cute little restaurant in a little town nearby so we’ll need to leave at approximately 5.45. At 8 there’s a showing of Die Hard at the local movie theater, which I thought we could attend?”

Okay, maybe her left eye flinches at this but very discreetly (or so she chooses to believe).

“Then tomorrow there’s breakfast at 7, which is perfect because we have canoeing on the lake at 8.30...”

She zones out after this. Hormones, tiredness, the fact that she can’t feel her feet- there are a thousand reasons but Amy can feel the most is tears prickling, threatening to spill. Not because she doesn’t appreciate her husband’s efforts and grand gestures, all for her, but because she can’t stand the thought of doing any of these sweet things he’s planned for them. She can’t cry though. He’s going to think something is actually wrong.

“Babe?”

However far gone she was, the sound of Jake’s voice pulls her back in and there’s a confusing mixture of mischief and pure adoration shining from these famous deep brown eyes. Why is he almost smiling when she’s having a tiny meltdown?

“Are you crying?”

“No?” she scoffs although she’s proven wrong upon touching her cheek where her fingers are met by a thin wet streak. “I’m just,” she clears her throat in hopes of avoiding a strained voice, “so overwhelmed by happiness and everything you’ve planned for us. It all sounds… great.”

Silence dawns upon them as Amy’s fake smile tries to convince him. On his part, Jake is biting his lip in an attempt to hold back a laugh, but his wife’s panicked look and teary eyes have him failing to last and after a couple of seconds he breaks the quietness.

“Honey, I’m messing with you,” he chuckles and quickly pulls her back in for a tight hug, as tight as the belly allows, pecking the top of her head. “I know you love a good schedule but the only plans I have for us are: staying in bed, ordering room service, and watching tv.”

“Oh, thank God.”

The moan of relief flies out of her before she can even consider how it must sound to Jake, a great deal of embarrassment hitting her upon realization. She just made it sound like she wouldn’t appreciate her husband’s effort to make this weekend of theirs the best.

“Jake, I’m so sorry! I didn’t-”

She pulls back to look him in the eyes, ready to offer a sincere apology for her blunt exclamation. She never gets to. Instead, she’s met with a huge grin and her husband looking everything but mad or hurt. Almost as if he knew. He knew how she’d react. He wanted her to react.

“You sly sneak! You knew you’d freak me out!”

Only her husband can trick her like this, and, on one hand, it’s very endearing... Jake Peralta is more than just a good cop; he’s excellent. Brilliant and bold, maybe even too much sometimes, although he usually gets away with it. Usually, she’s always on his heels and she hates to admit it, but her mommy brain and restless hormones are making it much harder, if not impossible, to keep up with his always upbeat pace.

“Of course I knew, babe.”

No matter how hard she tries, she can’t even find it within herself to be genuinely annoyed with him. He’s pulled her back into his arms and is looking at her with that mischievous smile that can both infuriate and enchant her. Tonight it’s a little bit of both although mostly the latter, she has to admit and the last bit of annoyance melts away the second he leans in, offering her a soft kiss that lets reminds her of the fact that he’s the best thing in the whole damn world.

“I love you,” she manages to mumble against his lips before he can pull too far back, her swollen fingers cradling his jaw to emphasize her words. It tampers with any kind of reasoning and her ability to remain miffed.

“I love you too...” her husband mumbles back against her lips.

Pulling away isn’t an option, he’s too addicted and he enjoys feeling the air coming from her nose when she chuckles. “How much?”

“At the very least enough to not make my heavily pregnant wife canoe around a lake.”

“Peanut and I appreciate that very much.”

Although after all these months there’s a comfort and familiarity in being able to rub her belly and know her son is in there, safe and sound, knowing he soon enough will be out here in the real world with them has butterflies fluttering in her chest. Jake’s hand joining hers in stroking her belly only causes the number of butterflies to multiply, explode all over again, and her hormones are making her question whether she wants to cry or laugh - or perhaps do both. After such a long wait, from the second they decided to start trying, there’s no blaming her impatience. There’s so much to expect and patience has never been her strongest asset. Only when it comes to Jake and their son. She’s impatient to see, hear and feel it all. The life and adventure she’s created with the man she loves the most seems scarily close yet torturously far away.

With no reason to leave in sight, Amy finds herself bundled up in a hotel bed sent from heaven, wearing nothing but panties and her favorite nursing bra. Jake is on an errand run to grab her the creme cheese-filled pierogis and Arroz con Leche their son and she are very much craving. Although she does prefer her abuela’s homemade version of the latter, even a pregnant Amy can come to terms with the fact that there are limits to Jake’s super husband-powers. He can and will get her almost anything as long as physically possible - or within a radius of 20 miles which Abuela Dolores at this given time for good reasons isn’t.

Amy had insisted on the hotel’s room service menu being more than fine, but her husband knows her all too well and could tell she wasn’t content with the ravioli and créme brulée she’d originally settled for. Before she could even begin to protest his offer to run out and get it for her, her husband had pulled on a pair of jogging pants and a hoodie, grabbed his keys, and left her behind with a peck to the top of her head and a promise to be back in not too long.

In all honesty, the ravioli and creme brulée would’ve been fine, and she would’ve preferred Jake to be here to cuddle her. Nonetheless, there’s no denying how loved and important Jake makes her feel. Especially when he suddenly walks in the door, multiple plastic bags hanging on his arms and car keys dangling from his mouth. The view is hilarious, to say the very least, and she wonders: how did she ever get so very lucky?

Perhaps she will never know the answer to this. Luckily when you’re cuddled up in a soft hotel bed eating pierogis, fries, grapes, and Arroz con Leche with the love of your life, it doesn’t really matter how you got there. Being too busy talking, eating, and making out, the documentary about the history of paper Amy’s been dying to watch is mostly just background noise.

“Can you believe we’re having a baby?”

Her husband’s mouth is filled with fries and before she can even think of answering his question, she has to reach over to wipe ketchup from the corner of his mouth.

“Yes… but also no. In a good way.”

It’s true. She always knew she wanted kids but wanting is one thing; actually outliving it still seems surreal to her, even as she runs her hands around the curve of the skin encapsulating their very own little human being. What makes it so much more surreal is the fact that Jake Peralta is the father. Jake Peralta, the guy who she 6 years ago could only pine for. Now she’s lying in bed with him, watching him smile at her with those soft, brown eyes and warm rosy lips that she not so secretly hopes their son will inherit. He swiftly wipes oil and salt off his fingers before reaching over to place his hands on top of her belly. Placing hers on top of his happens like a newfound reflex of hers. His hand is warm and feels like home.

“This is probably the last getaway we’ll have, yanno, just the two of us.”

His soft voice has her looking up from their joined hands on her belly to see him looking directly at her with glistening eyes, the blue light from the television casting a blue hue on the side of his head. He looks so handsome, pensive, so perfect and she can’t come to terms with the fact that he’s her’s and she his, and together they’ve created new life.

“Yeah. More likely than not.”

“How do you feel about that? Are you scared? You know- of giving birth and how life will be after that?”

A few beats of silence go by, only the dull sound of the tv filling the otherwise silent room. His hand never slips out of from beneath hers. Does this question maybe reflect some worries of his?

“Not scared, per se...”

She quickly makes sure that there’s no food in-between them before scooting in closer to him. Her hand slips off of his only to slide up his arm, all the way up to cup his face. There’s close to no room between them. Her thumb dances across his cheekbone.

“... Excited, maybe a bit anxious, but I know it’ll be alright and so very worth it in the end. And yeah, our life nd dynamic might have to change a bit but it’ll always be us. But I’m not scared,” This seems to put a damper on his running mind. “And you know why?”

“Hm?”

“Because I have the world’s best baby daddy.”

As hoped a wide smile lights up his face, pure unadulterated joy so obviously present in this little moment of theirs. Worries seem irrelevant and non-existing.

“Are you worried, babe?”

She sees his smile fade a bit but not enough to genuinely worry her. Just like everyone, he has his thoughts and worries. With care comes worries. He wants to do his best, she knows.

“Maybe a bit, you know? Like not genuinely worried like I would’ve been a few years ago, but just… averagely worried.”

“That’s okay,” she comforts, her thumb still tracing smooth lines on his cheek. “It’s normal. It just means you care and want to do good, which is all I can really ask of you.”

“I do care. A lot. So so much,” he chuckles shyly.

“Which is also why you’re going to be fine, I will be fine and everything will be fine.”

She doesn’t give him the time to agree nor protest but instead leans in to place a long, tender kiss on his lips, inviting him to join in on the moment. It’s just a simple kiss, soft, like the one they had a Shaw’s after agreeing to stop trying (which eventually lead to more trying, but that’s beside the point). With every breath, they take the kiss grows deeper, longer. It’s as if their bodies are aware of the fact that this will be the last time they get to do this without a child to get home to; without the responsibility of being a parent. All at once, it’s frightening but also, more than anything, exciting. Their lives might be on the verge of changing forever. Although lying there in bed together, feeling the soft touch of their spouse, it feels like they’ve never changed and never will. They’re always going to be Jake and Amy.

#B99 Summer 2021 Fic Exchange #b99 #brooklyn nine nine #jake x amy #peraltiago #fluff #brooklyn nine-nine #jake and amy #mac peralta #baby peraltiago #oneshot

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stolethekey · 3 years

Text

i woke up just in time, now i wake up by your side

hello! this is for the (final!) @b99fandomevents—i can’t believe how far these two (and this show) have come, and i’m gonna miss them so much. i got to write this for @amydancepants-peralta, who wanted a fic where jake and amy have a disatrous first date, and then amy decides to transfer to chicago—jake has three days to convince her to stay.

enjoy! (you can also read this on ao3.)

It’s their first date, and it’s a disaster.

Neither of them has said anything in the ten minutes since they’ve sat down. Jake buries his nose into the menu, hoping that he looks occupied enough with choosing an entrée to excuse the heavy silence that has settled over the table. A few feet away, in the other side of the booth, Amy does the same thing.

A young man in a pressed suit and tie approaches their table, a small, nervous smile on his face. “Are you all ready to order?”

“Yes!” Amy nearly leaps at the chance to talk to someone who is not Jake. Jake tries not to feel too hurt by the desperate excitement in her voice. “I’ll take the chicken piccata, please.”

Jake lingers around the chicken parmesan but ends up going with a steak, because he’s determined to show Amy and maybe himself that he can eat like an adult. They pass their silk-embossed menus to the waiter, sip their waters, and suddenly it’s too quiet again.

“You got a haircut,” Jake notices, wringing his hands nervously under the table.

“It looks nice.”

“Thanks.”

There is a beat of silence that stretches just a little too long, and then Jake says, “This is awkward.”

Amy chokes out a laugh. “Yeah.”

Another moment passes. Jake swallows the non-existent saliva in his mouth. Their waiter, mercifully, returns with their food a few minutes later. Jake doesn’t want him to leave. He does, of course, and then they’re left in that terrible silence again.

Jake makes it through half his steak before speaking again. “Should we, um, just get really drunk?”

Amy grimaces, reaching for her water. “I don’t think so.” Her voice is quiet, almost defeated. “If we can’t do this sober, what’s the point?”

Something twists uncomfortably in Jake’s stomach, but he stabs his fork into his a piece of broccoli anyway. - It’s the day after their first date, and Amy asks for a transfer.

Jake learns about this through a wail from the evidence lockup that he hears from a good twenty yards away. He bursts through the door, frantic, to find Charles curled in a ball on the ground, rocking back and forth.

Charles gets out the details in between sobs, or at least enough details that Jake gets most of the picture. Amy put in a transfer to Chicago, it’s been granted on account of an emergency vacancy that needs to be filled, and she has three days left at the Nine-Nine.

“Three days,” Charles gasps, tears streaming out of his eyes. “Three days, you have to convince her to stay, Jake, you have to—”

“Hold on,” Jake says desperately, watching Charles dab at his face with a completely saturated tissue. “Let me get you another box of Kleenex.”

He opens the door to leave and runs straight into the source of Charles’s despair, in the flesh.

“Oh,” says Amy.

Jake closes the door behind him before Charles can see her and have a heart attack, then crosses his arms. “Is it true? Are you leaving?”

Amy has the grace to look self-conscious, shuffling her feet and shoving her hands in her pockets. She nods, and Jake feels strangely like the walls are swimming around him.

It just makes sense, she says. She has family there, and New York is too crowded, too expensive, and maybe Chicago is a better place to live anyway.

“Is this because of me?” Jake demands. “Because of…you know…our date?”

“No, of course not.” She doesn’t look at him as she says it.

Jake scoffs before stalking past her into the bullpen, ignoring her half-hearted call of his name. He blinks back the hot, furious tears forming in his eyes, and internally he starts a calendar. - On Day One, Jake calls in sick to work.

He responds to the “r u ok??” texts from Charles, Rosa, Gina, and Terry with a copy-and-pasted “I’m ok. Just feeling gross.” He ignores the ones that mention Amy. He also pretends like he doesn’t notice that Amy hasn’t sent him anything.

The morning is spent mindlessly scrolling through his social media beneath his blankets, with no regard for time or his grumbling stomach.

At noon, Charles posts a picture of the squad from Halloween with the caption “Gonna miss my favorite Halloween-hater. #SayonaraSantiago.” Jake decides he’s had enough Instagram for the day and finally hauls himself out of bed.

He orders a pizza, then turns his phone off and the TV on. Inadvertently, the pizza becomes both lunch and dinner and one Die Hard movie becomes a marathon—and before he knows it, the sky outside his apartment is dark.

“Well, that was productive,” Jake mutters, brushing the pizza crumbs off his lap before standing up to toss his trash into the garbage.

On Day Two, they aren’t talking to each other.

Amy looks up almost timidly as he walks out of the elevator, then waits until he reached his desk to let out a small, hesitant “Hi.”

Jake grabs the file waiting for him on his desk and walks out of the bullpen without looking at her.

So, strictly speaking, this is mostly his fault.

That fact does not do anything to quell the mixture of anger and hurt writhing in his stomach. He spends the day furiously completing paperwork in an empty interrogation room, jabbing his pen so furiously into the paper that he rips a hole in an I-918 and has to start over.

At noon, Rosa stops by with a turkey sub, which she drops wordlessly on the desk in front of him before sliding back out the door.

At five, he has completed more paperwork than he has in the last month combined. He drops the stack of files on Terry’s desk, forces a smile, and says, “Finally caught up on all those forms you’ve been hounding me about.”

Terry, his eyes piercing and slightly concerned, does not laugh. “Dismissed.”

It’s Day Three, and Holt has had enough.

He assigns Jake and Amy to label evidence in the lockup together, much to Jake’s chagrin. Amy turns and speeds off without a word. Jake turns towards Holt with a big, reproachful protest on the tip of his tongue but is cut off by Holt’s raised eyebrows and stern expression.

“Peralta, you need to get over yourself.”

“What?”

“You need to get over yourself,” Holt repeats. “Your partner of six years is leaving tomorrow, and you haven’t spoken to her in three days.”

Jake snorts, crossing his arms defensively. “Yeah, well, she’s leaving because of me, so—”

“I’m not sure that matters,” Holt says, not unkindly. “If you let her leave like this, you might never get the chance to talk to her again.”

Jake stares at the ground, furiously attempting to dig a hole in the ground with his toe.

“I know you don’t want this to be the way things end.” Holt’s voice is gentle, and Jake can’t bring himself to look up. “It would be unwise to let your pride get in the way of your last chance to save your friendship.”

“Whatever,” Jake mutters irritably, but something uncomfortable has begun to form in his gut. “Gimme that Sharpie so I can go write case numbers on a bunch of ziplock bags.”

Jake does not, in fact, get over himself—at least not for the first few hours. He chooses to instead label evidence in the same furious silence that has occupied his past three days, pretending he doesn’t see the furtive, almost timid glances Amy throws his way every few minutes.

Then he walks to a bodega for lunch and realizes mid-chew that this is Amy’s last lunch at the Nine-Nine, and the uncomfortable thing in his stomach grows a lot bigger.

He finally swallows his pride on his walk back to the precinct, and when he re-enters the evidence lockup the thing in his stomach has started feeling a lot more like guilt.

Amy walks in a few minutes after him, tossing a balled-up sandwich wrapper into the trash, and notices that he’s watching her. “You have something to say to me?”

“Yeah, actually,” Jake says quickly. “I do.”

She crosses her arms and narrows her eyes, and Jake’s heart sinks a little.

“I—uh—I’m sorry,” Jake says. “For how I reacted, and for icing you out the past few days. It was immature of me, and stupid, and I should’ve been an adult about it, but—well, I guess we both know I suck at that sometimes.”

Amy snorts, but her expression has softened slightly. “Thank you.”

“And I’m gonna make it up to you,” Jake continues, almost determinedly. “We’re gonna make this the best day you’ve ever had at the Nine-Nine.”

Amy laughs slightly. “I don’t think that’s possible, given the amount of work we have left.”

“Who cares?” Jake shrugs. “The best part of work has always been the people anyway.”

And for all the organizational skills Jake may lack, he sure knows how to delegate. All it takes is a couple text messages to a new, Amy-less precinct group chat and the rest of the Nine-Nine is off. Gina cashes in on a favor and gets Shaw’s to close its doors for the evening. Rosa makes a last-minute motorcycle trip to a local party store and uses a sizable amount of cash and her surprising aesthetic skill to acquire a large box of decorations. Charles says, “leave the food to me,” and no one is brave enough to question him about it.

Jake stays with Amy on the floor of the evidence lockup. They talk and laugh as they work, reminiscing about their years at the Nine-Nine and the particularly memorable perps they’ve brought in.

There’s also a supercut of the stuff that wasn’t work at all—the precinct parties, Charles saving Thanksgiving, the Boyle-Linetti wedding. There are the Halloween heists, the Jimmy Jabs, and there’s the Bet, with a capital B. Neither of them mentions the last one, but Jake is definitely thinking about it.

“Remember that time Terry tried to do the full bullpen and almost knocked a tooth out?” Amy asks, grinning widely. “I thought Sharon was gonna pull him out of the force immediately.”

“You have no faith,” Jake says, shaking his head. “I knew she’d let him stay.”

“You did not.” Amy points at him, narrowing her eyes. “You were so scared when she came to pick him up.”

“I was not—”

“So scared. I’ve never seen a grown man visibly tremble like that, but—”

“God, shut up.” Jake throws a balled-up piece of tape at her, and she laughs. It’s a real one, this time, one that’s bright and infectious.

They let it fade into a gentle silence, one that’s more comfortable than the ones of the past few days.

There’s a beat, and then Jake says, “Don’t go to Chicago.”

He expects Amy to be surprised by this change of subject—to recoil and give an affronted, “what?”

Instead, she sighs, long and slow, and closes the manila folder in front of her. “Jake—”

“I mean, I know it’s your decision, and I respect that,” Jake says quickly. “And if you truly meant what you said to me earlier, about how it’s important to be near your family and it’s a better place for you to live and you’ve grown out of New York—if that’s really the reason you’re leaving, then that’s fine. Just tell me, and I’ll shut up about it and we can just have a big blowout goodbye party and you can leave.”

Amy picks at the edge of her boot and says nothing.

“But if it’s not—if you’re leaving because of what happened on our date—I don’t want to be the reason you give this up, Amy. I know how much you love it here, and this place loves you too. Captain Holt is a phenomenal mentor to you, we both know that, and you might not get that in Chicago—you’ve done so much good work here that I know you’re proud of, and I can’t be the reason you don’t have that anymore.”

Amy looks at him, her eyes a stormy mix of unreadable emotions, but still doesn’t say anything.

“Look,” Jake says, splaying out his hands in front of him. “That date was kind of a disaster, we both know that. And I think it’s because we were both trying too hard, because we cared too much. Because we’re friends, Amy, and that’s what’s most important to me.”

He takes a deep breath, then says, “I don’t care if we never date. I don’t care if I never get to hug you, or kiss you, or do any of the things I’ve so desperately wanted to do. I just can’t lose your friendship. You’re the best partner I’ve ever had, and an even better friend, and I would be more than happy to just be friends with you for the rest of my life. God knows it’s more than I deserve.”

“You deserve plenty,” Amy says softly.

Jake swallows the way that makes his chest flutter. “I’m just saying—I’m laying my cards all out on the table, here. I want you to stay, and I respect it if you don’t want that. But please don’t let me be the reason for you leaving.”

There’s a beat of silence, and then Amy gives him a small, wistful smile that says everything Jake needs to hear.

“Okay,” he says, taking a deep breath and wiping his hands on his jeans. “Party at Shaw’s it is, then.”

Amy slaps the last label on a duffle bag, checks her watch, and stands. “I’m actually taking off early—I need to clear up some stuff at City Hall before I leave. I’ll meet you there?”

“Oh,” Jake says, a little dumbfounded.

Amy notices his expression and shakes her head quickly. “No, it’s not—I mean, this has been settled for days, Holt knows, I was always leaving at three today. So it’s not, like, spontaneous, you know. I would’ve told you earlier, but—"

“I was being an ass. Yeah.”

Amy gives him that little sad smile again, and Jake wants to kick a wall. “I’ll see you at the bar,” she says, almost gently.

Jake forces a smile and nods. “Yeah. Looking forward to it.” - When he pushes through the doors of his favorite bar a few hours later, Jake is expecting loud music, streamers, and—if Gina’s Instagram stories were credible—possibly Mario Lopez. Instead, the bar is completely empty.

There are no balloons, no decorations—the only set table is in the middle of the floor, and on it sits a pizza, two salads, and two glasses of water.

“What—what is this?” Jake mutters, mostly to himself.

“A dinner between two friends,” Amy says, emerging from behind the bar. She gives him a small, slightly nervous smile. “And if it goes well, a second date.”

Jake blinks.

“You were right,” Amy tells him, carrying a bottle of wine and two wine glasses to the table. “Our friendship is the most important thing, here, and it means a lot to both of us. I mean, that’s why we were trying so hard in the first place, right? Neither of us wanted it to fail.”

Jake nods in silent assent, not trusting whatever his mouth would say if he let it.

“But it did fail. Miserably.”

“Uh-huh,” Jake says, somewhat stupidly.

“So the worst thing that could happen has already happened, and we’ve gotten through it. And I think—I think, now, having gone through the past few days, we know enough to give it another shot. As long as we set very clear boundaries.”

“Boundaries,” Jake repeats. “Boundaries are good.”

“Yeah,” says Amy with a slightly amused smile. “So, we’re friends. Really good friends. And that’s what we have to protect, above anything. So this is not necessarily a date. It’s a dinner, and we’re a pair of very good friends who are gonna eat it. And if we want to, afterwards, we can decide to call it a date.”

“Can you do that?” Jake asks. “Label something a date after it’s already happened?”

“Who cares?” Amy smirks. “Since when have you followed rules?”

Jake swallows and shrugs.

“Anyway, if it’s awkward, or weird, then we move past it. It’s a slightly awkward moment between friends that doesn’t have to mean anything. No more silent treatment, no more rash decisions, just two friends who are still friends afterwards. Got it?”

“Afterwards,” Jake says slowly. “So—Chicago—”

“Yeah, I’m not going,” Amy says, her eyes sparkling. “That was a dumb thing I did to avoid this guy I went on a terrible date with.”

A broad grin starts to make its way across Jake’s face. “He sounds like he sucks.”

Amy laughs, then pulls out a chair and points at it. “So—pizza?”

The grin on Jake’s face softens into something smaller, something gentler. “Definitely.”

They each take a slice, then a bite, and Jake will never admit it—but it’s the best Meat Supreme he’s ever tasted.

#b99 summer 2021 fic exchange #this one was fun i hope u guys like it!#i can't believe this show is almost over #i'm gonna miss it very much #my fics #my b99 fics #jake peralta x amy santiago #brooklyn nine nine #brooklyn 99 #b99

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ebdaydreamer · 3 years

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New Chapter

Written for @mashikkara for the @b99fandomevents summer fic exchange, inspired by the prompts ‘ 'Moving Houses' and 'Santiago getting a promotion'. I hope you like it!

Summary: Everything in Amy's life is going great: new house, new baby on the way and a promotion that takes her one step closer to her dream of Captain. She's happy - of course, she is - her life is going exactly how she planned. Except there's just one small catch...

[AO3]

“C’mon, Ames, this one is it, I can feel it!” Jake insisted, gently pulling his wife along.

Amy couldn’t help but giggle at his enthusiasm. “Babe, you’ve said that about the last three houses.”

“And? Were they really so bad?” Jake asked, “Or did they just not meet up to your impossible standards?”

“The first one was in a sketchy neighbourhood, the second one had a weird smell and the third one was a health hazard!” she insisted.

Jake rolled his eyes, “Squeaky stairs and a couple of broken cabinets are not health hazards, babe.”

Amy bit her lip as they reached the door of the fourth house, “It’s just… with another one on the way, and Mac still being so young I don’t want to have to spend months working on a house.”

Before Jake could reassure her, the estate agent opened the door. “Hi, you must be Jake and Amy. I’m Linda, c’mon in.”

They stepped inside to a spacious living area, complete with a fireplace and huge sliding glass doors that let them peer into the garden.

Linda began her tour, “So, as you know, this place has 3 bedrooms, 3 bathrooms, one of which is just here-” she pointed at a door on the left, “and through here is the kitchen.” She led them through a large archway to the right, revealing what had to be a brand new kitchen in blue and white with an island that could seat 4 around it.

“Now obviously there’s not enough room in here for a dining area, but there’s enough space in the living area that you could find room in there if you need it.” She turned to face them with a smile, “How many of you will it be?”

“Four, in a few months,” said Amy, unable to stop herself from holding her bump and smiling. They’d hoped that they’d be moved into a house in time to have the sex reveal party there, but they were running out of time.

Linda’s smile brightened, “Congratulations! So you already have one? How old are they?”

“He’ll be five next month,” Jake answered. “He’s really excited.”

“Well you should know, the schools around here are excellent,” Linda assured them, “and there’s been quite an uptake of young families moving to this neighbourhood, so there are plenty of other kids to have playdates with.”

Amy’s grip on Jake’s arm tightened: that was exactly what they had wanted. Mac had tons of friends at school already, but most of them didn’t live close by. In fact, one of his closest friends - Jamie - had moved just a few streets over to this house a couple of months ago.

“Shall we explore upstairs next,” Linda asked, “or would you like to see the garden?”

Their tour ended in the smallest bedroom, and Linda left to give them a moment.

“Ames,” Jake called, pulling her attention away from the window, “I know there are other houses on your list but this-”

“Me too,” she smiled. “I can see this being our home, where we raise our family. And Mac will make so many new friends, and he can play in the garden, and we can get him that swingset he’s always wanted.”

“Yeah! And we can get a sandpit and some chairs and we can have barbecues with everyone from the Nine-Nine…” Jake trailed off as Amy’s face drop as she was reminded. “And, the Nine-Three once you become their favourite Lieutenant ever.”

Amy had received her results of the Lieutenants exam two weeks ago now, but she hadn’t told anyone but Jake and Holt. There wasn’t a Lieutenant position available at the Nine-Nine, so Holt had helped her look into other precincts, sending a glowing recommendation over with her application, and she had quickly been accepted at the Nine-Three. Luckily, her new Captain (whoever they were, Holt had been very tight-lipped on the Nine-Three, assuring her it would be a great fit and asking her to trust him) had been very understanding about her pregnancy and the transfer wouldn’t be until she returned from maternity leave, so she still had a few months left with the Nine-Nine.

A few months left to tell the squad she was leaving.

Linda returned, peeping around the door. “So, how are we feeling?”

Jake and Amy didn’t even need to look at each other.

“We want to place an offer.”

“Charles, please don’t cry,” Jake begged.

Charles just sobbed louder. “How can I not! My best friend is moving away!”

“Charles, it’s not that far. You can still come visit us anytime.”

His best friend turned to him, face red and blotchy, “You mean it?”

“Of course, buddy!” Jake placed his hand on Charles’ shoulder. “Mac loves hanging out with his Uncle Charles and his cousin Nikolaj.”

“Nikolaj.”

“What about Auntie RoRo?” Rosa piqued up.

Amy answered her, “Of course, Rosa. Come round whenever.” Amy gestured around the briefing room, “All of you are welcome anytime.” She was sure Jake would be the only one to notice the tightness in her smile. He knew how eager she was to have the squad over, for them to feel at home to make up for not seeing them at work.

“And, you’re all welcome to our house-warming party,” Jake declared. “And our house-moving-in party, especially you, Terry. When are your next days off?”

Holt interrupted, “If that’s all, may I start the briefing, considering we are currently in the briefing room?”

“Actually, Captain, we do have one more announcement.” Amy could feel Jake shaking with anticipation, knowing he was revelling in Holt’s somewhat tired expression, but they knew he was used to the squad eating up briefing room time. Besides, their next announcement should cheer the robot up. “Now I know you’re all wondering, why the move?”

“We are not,” said Rosa.

Jake ignored her, “You’re all on the edge of your seats! Amy, would you like to tell them why we’re moving?”

Amy grinned, “I’m pregnant.”

With an ear-splitting shriek, Charles fainted.

“Yes!” Jake cheered, high-fiving Amy, “We got him first time!”

This pregnancy was not going as smoothly as the first. Her doctors were worried because Mac was early, and she was a bit older, which meant increased risk. Amy was already on desk duty and couldn’t lift anything too heavy, soon enough she’d be on bed rest.

Her last couple of months at the Nine-Nine being spent like this: it saddened her a bit.

“Hey Sarge,” Rosa greeted, sitting across from Amy at her desk. “Or is it Lieutenant yet?”

Amy fought back any reaction. “Nope, still just Sarge.” She still hadn’t worked up the courage to tell the squad about her transfer. She needed to do it before she went on maternity leave, she needed to do it soon.

This weekend, at the house-warming party/sex reveal. Most of the renovations and decorations were done, the baby’s room was all that was left and they were waiting on Terry’s next day off so he could paint a mural.

“Did you need something?” Amy asked.

Rosa slapped a file down on her desk, “I’ve been staring at this for two hours and my brain is mush. I need a second pair of eyes.”

“Thank you,” Amy grabbed the file, “I’m bored out of my mind.”

Amy spent the rest of the day consulting Rosa on her case. Helping others out had been the only thing keeping her sane during desk duty, and Amy suspected Rosa had noticed, as she had been regularly slapping case files down on her desk claiming she needed a ‘fresh pair of eyes’, or ‘her specific expertise’.

Gripping the file, Amy felt her throat tighten. As much as she loved working with the whole squad, she’d probably miss cases with Rosa the most. Sure, she’d miss working with Jake, and they always did work really well together, but there was something about working cases with her best friend that made her day just a little brighter.

Amy almost told her about the transfer then and there but stopped herself. This weekend. She wanted to tell everyone at once, so she was committing to the party this weekend.

The weekend finally arrived and Amy’s stomach was in knots, but she refused to back down. She was a Santiago, goddamnit: when they made plans they stuck to them.

Guests were milling around the house, most of them being led by Mac who was giving them a tour, which seemed to linger for a very long time in his bedroom. His grandparents in particular - all three sets: Santiago, Peralta and Cozner-Holt - were made to sit through a long presentation about his toys.

It was fitting in a way: their first sex reveal party was ruined by the cake being destroyed and this one would be ruined by her announcing she was leaving all her friends.

“Ames,” Jakes grabbed her hands and Amy startled. She hadn’t noticed him approach. “Breathe, you’re freaking out.”

Amy inhaled deeply. “They’ll all be so upset, it’ll ruin the party!”

“Or, they could be super happy for you?” Jake wrapped his arm around her shoulders. “They’ve been even more anxious than you were waiting to hear about your Lieutenant exams results.”

“Mija,” a soft voice called out to her. Her mom, she hadn’t noticed her come over either. She really needed to calm down. “Are you alright? You look upset.”

“Just nerves, Camila,” Jake assured her. “Y’know, pregnancy and hormones. She’s just been a little anxious recently.”

Her mom cooed and Jake stood aside so she could embrace her. She began stroking her hair and Amy slowly felt herself calm down.

“Tell you what, why don’t we cut the cake now?” Jake suggested.

Amy nodded, staying in her mother’s arms as Jake left for the kitchen.

He came back carrying the beautiful white cake (that had not been baked by Peraltas this time) and placed it on the dining table.

“Everyone, if I could have your atten-”

Jake was cut off by the lights going out.

Amy groaned, “Please don’t tell me there’s been a power cut. Nothing good ever happens when I’m pregnant in a power cut.”

Lights suddenly returned to the room, but they were not the ones that had just gone out. Instead, the room was lit up with blue and pink laser lights.

Mac’s face lit up and he started pointing to the back door. “Auntie Gi!”

Everyone turned, to see the one and only Gina Linetti in the door frame. “Correct, Mac! Auntie Gina is here and the party can begin!”

The crowd started clapping: another classic Gina Linetti entrance.

“Gina!” Jake rushed to hug her. “I thought you couldn’t make it!”

She giggled, “Last minute change of plans, Jacob.”

“We’re glad you’re here, Gina,” Amy grinned, her mood thoroughly lifted. “But can we have the normal lights back, please?”

Gina rolled her eyes but clicked a button on a little remote in her hand, and the laser lights disappeared. “Thank you for being my prop man, Charles.”

“My pleasure,” Charles beamed, switching the lights back on, clearly very proud of himself. “But the suspense is killing me, can we cut the cake now?”

Laughter rippled across the room as everyone crowded around the table.

“Ok,” said Amy, grabbing the knife, the excitement beginning to bubble. “We are having a-”

She lifted up the slice of cake: pink.

“GIRL!”

“IT’S A GIRL!”

“Congratulations!”

“One of each!”

Charles burst into tears.

Once everyone had calmed down (well, Charles wasn’t exactly calm, per se, but he was calm enough) and had a slice of cake, Amy knew. It was time to rip off the band-aid.

“If I could have your attention, once again?”

The chatter quieted down, as people turned their gaze to Amy, who had stood up from her very comfy chair.

Band-aid: off.“I got my results from the Lieutenant’s exam. I’m gonna be a Lieutenant.”

Whoops and cheers rippled throughout the room. Her father raced over to embrace her, whispering in her ear, “I’m so proud of you.” Amy felt tears swell in her eyes at his words but fought them back. Not yet.

“But,” she had to shout, regaining everyone’s attention, “unfortunately, there isn’t a position open in the Nine-Nine, so I’m transferring to the Nine-Three.”

And everyone’s faces dropped.

The silence seemed to drag on forever, until Terry spoke up. “Congratulations, Amy. You’re gonna be a great Lieutenant and they’re gonna love you there.”

Some people perked up, congratulating her, but the squad was still clearly tense.

“When do you transfer?” Charles asked, his voice still hoarse from crying.

Amy tried to smile, “Not until after my maternity leave.”

“So you’ll be on desk duty, go on maternity leave and then that’s it?” Rosa snapped.

Her smile dropped, “Well, yeah, but I mean, we’ll still see each other all the time. You guys all have keys for the house.”

“I don’t,” Scully piped up for the first time.

“Me either,” echoed Hitchcock.

“Uhhhhhh,” said Jake and Amy in sync, staring at them for a moment, before ignoring them and turning back to Rosa.

“But none of us will ever work on a case with you again,” Rosa frowned. “How long have you known?”

“Rosa-” Amy began.

“How. Long. Have. You. Known?”

Amy began to stutter, which seemed to be answer enough for Rosa, who stormed off upstairs.

Whilst the mood of the party still wasn’t great, it had improved significantly as people chatted and danced to the music. Rosa still hadn’t come down.

Amy was sitting on the sofa, one of Mac’s juice boxes in hand, feeling guilty when a ‘thud’ alerted her to a presence next to her.

“She’ll get over it,” Gina told her. “Once she realises she’s sad, not angry and also super duper proud of you.”

Amy sighed, “I just feel so bad-”

“Don’t,” Gina cut her off. “Don’t feel bad for pursuing your career, your dreams. I certainly didn’t when I left the Nine-Nine. Does that make me a bad person?”

She smiled, “Of course not, but-”

“She’s just gonna miss you, dude,” Gina interrupted again. “Also means she’s stuck with Boyle and Jake most of the time, which sucks.”

Amy laughed, the guilt slowly ebbing away. “Thanks, Gina.”

“Don’t let other people stop you from achieving your dreams: new Gina-mandment.”

It was Amy’s last day at the Nine-Nine, and Rosa was still being stand-offish with her. It stung because it reminded Amy too much of when they first - before they were friends.

They were in the briefing room, and Amy had tried to sit next to Rosa, who immediately got up and made Scully switch seats with her. Amy had tried to listen to Holt, but all she could think about was the friend she hurt.

She zoned back in once she heard her name. “-Santiago’s last day with us here in the Nine-Nine before she goes on maternity leave, and then becomes a Lieutenant in the Nine-Three.”

He looked at her, a rare warm smile across his face, “We’re all very proud of you, and we’ll miss having you as one of our own.” He turned back to the squad, “I apologise for being so overly sentimental. Dismissed.”

Most of Amy’s last day at the Nine-Nina was taken up by people coming up to her, congratulating her on the baby, the promotion, saying they’ll miss her - everyone but the one person she wanted to hear it from the most.

It was near the end of her shift when Holt called her into his office.

“Everything alright, Sir?” she asked, lowering herself into the chair across from Holt.

Instead of answering, he asked a question of his own. “How has your last day been, Lieutenant?”

“Good,” Amy smiled. “Finished everything up,” she nodded, feeling the tears come on, “said my goodbyes.” She carried on nodding, fighting back the tears. Pregnancy and saying goodbye was not a good combination. She knew she’d be emotional wherever she left the Nine-Nine, but the pregnancy hormones were making it a thousand times worse.

His lips quirked upwards ever so slightly. “I just wanted to tell you again how proud of you I am. It has been my absolute honour to be your mentor, and I cannot wait to see you make improvements elsewhere within the NYPD. I hope your time here, with us, with me, proves itself useful…” he trailed off, the guise of formality dropping. “And I am so elated to see you succeed. I know it won’t be long until you yourself become a Captain, and make great change in this city.”

Amy was freely crying now. “Thank you, sir. I just want you to know that whatever good I do, whatever change I make, it will be because you helped me get there. You set the example. I can only hope to live up to you.”

Tears glistened in Holt’s eyes, “You already have.”

After crying with Holt for a while, Amy pulled herself together and left his office, heading to her desk to collect her things. As she was putting the last of her stuff in her bag she heard a cough. She looked up and saw the one person who’d been avoiding her all day.

“Look, dude, obviously I’m super happy for you,” Rosa said quickly, making it impossible for her to get a word in edgeways. “You totally deserve this and if you need to leave to get that amazing career that you deserve then of course you had to do it. You’re gonna crush it. I was upset that you didn’t tell me earlier, so we could’ve made the most of your time here. But then I realised whilst I was brooding that I was the one wasting the last of our time working together. But I was too stubborn to tell you that, but now you’re leaving I can tell you.” Rosa finally took a breath, her face getting red as her eyes began to water. “I’m sorry.”

Amy just pulled into the tightest hug a pregnancy belly would allow.

“As soon as I can we’re going on a girls night,” she declared.

Rosa chuckled into her shoulder “If anyone in your new precinct gives you crap just call me. I’ll bring my axe… and my throwing stars, just to be sure.”

The sleuth sisters laughed.

3 months later

“You sure you’ve got everything?” Jake asked as she got out of the car.

Amy rolled her eyes, “I’m sure. I’m not your child, you don’t need to fret over me.”

“I’ll send you updates if you send me updates,” Jake offered, getting out of the car to hug her goodbye. “And I’ll bring the kids when I pick you up later.”

She smiled at her doting husband. “Thank you. Have a good day.”

“You too.” He kissed her goodbye.

Amy watched him drive away before turning to the building before her: the Nine-Three. Her new precinct.

Walking into the building, Amy kept her eyes peeled for anyone she might know. There had to be a reason Holt recommended this place so highly yet refused to tell her anything about it.

“Lieutenant Santiago!”

As much joy as being called that gave her, it was overshadowed by the joy at hearing that voice.

“Captain Kim!”

She turned around to the older woman holding out her hand. “Welcome to the Nine-Three, Lieutenant. I’m so glad to have you onboard.”

Amy spluttered, trying to get past her shock.

“So, a nice surprise?” she asked.

Finally finding her tongue, Amy cried, “Yes! Absolutely!”

“Good! I’ve been so excited to work with you, the wait was killing me,” Kim chuckled. “When Holt reached out to ask if we had an opening here and that you were looking to transfer, I said yes in a heartbeat.”

Amy’s eyebrows shot up, “Really? I thought with the impression the squad must have given, especially my husband…”

Kim waved her hand, “Oh no, water under the bridge. I actually found it inspiring how close you all were.” Kim began walking, leading her to her office. “After Holt was promoted again he reached out to apologise, and we got to talking. He gave me lots of advice on how being so close made you better detectives. And lots of other advice.” She opened the door to her office, gesturing at Amy to have a seat. “The last Lieutenant was an older gentleman. Good at his job, but very resistant to change. I hope with your help we’ll be able to do some good here and make this precinct an actual force for good in this city.”

Amy beamed. “I can’t wait to get started.”

#b99 #b99 fic #b99 summer 2021 fic exchange #b99fandomevents #brooklyn 99 #peraltiago #amy santiago #jake peralta #rosa diaz #charles boyle #gina linetti #captain raymond holt #my writing

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meepmorpperaltiago · 3 years

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Hey @ebdaydreamer, here’s the first of two fics for the @b99fandomevents fic exchange – hope you like it!!

“Jake, you can’t have this much stuff to pack…” Amy says in a slightly raised voice, walking towards his bedroom with an exasperated sigh, like a teacher walking into a rowdy classroom. The sight that meets her when she gets in makes her want to cry, vomit, scream and throw herself out of a window and off a cliff all at the same time.

Jake’s stuff, which he should’ve been packing to move into her apartment over the next few days, is absolutely everywhere. The bed is barley visible for clothes, there are more randomly assorted sneakers around than she even knew he had, even his giant signed Die Hard poster is somehow round the wrong way.

“I can’t decide what to keep, Ames! I have too much stuff and I can’t take it all…” he says, with the energy of a toddler who’s just about ready to flop onto the floor in defeat. In line with that, he also throws two unmatched sneakers down, which hit the ground with a dramatic “thud”.

Most girlfriends would be irritated at such laziness, but honestly, as much as she hates the mess, the idea of cleaning it makes Amy want to jump for joy. She’s been waiting for this moment ever since she first entered Jake’s filthy apartment. Honestly, if she didn’t love him so much she’d be out of the door at the sight of the mess he leaves. She’s even told him that several times and she thinks it’s a testament to how much he loves her that she wasn’t even offended.

“We could make out instead?”, Jake suggests, flopping down on the bed before yelping up in surprise as he hits his head on another sneaker. Seriously, how does he own so many?

“Do you really think I want to hop onto that bed? You’re already getting injured from it”, Amy responds with a laugh and a raised eyebrow as she ruffles his hair. It’s a habit she started a few months into knowing him, when their rivalry was just starting to go from actual irritation into a foundation of genuine friendship. But he only stopped pretending to be annoyed by it a few months ago.

It’s then that she notices it – the slight shine of a Polaroid.

“Hey, I didn’t know you kept these”, she says as she pulls them out, seeing younger versions of the squad staring back at her. Her memories are slightly blurred, but as she looks back at all the photos Jake has kept, she starts to remember.

It had been her first night out since joining the squad – the first time she’d taken down her carefully guarded walls, slightly letting go of her need to appear professional to her new colleagues.

She doesn’t even notice Jake coming up behind her, until he rests his head on her shoulder. The fond expression on her face is mirrored in his and they both sit silently.

Looking over all of the photos, Amy can’t help but wonder what snapshots of their future will be framed and put on the walls of her apartment, or any other home they’ll share.

“We’ve come a long way since then, huh?”, Jake says, kissing her shoulder.

“Yeah… now we just need to get it all over to my place”, she says firmly, earning another groan from Jake.

Someday they’ll return to this same position, to pack all of the stuff and move it again.

By that point, they’ll have the assistance of chubby toddler hands, putting everything in in the most random and bizarre order, much to Amy’s horror. Instead of going from a tiny, disgusting apartment to a bigger, nicer one, they’ll be moving into their first house.

But for now, they begin to take Jake’s stuff out of Jake’s chipped front door, with its peeling paint, towards Amy’s place. Taking the first steps into that future together.

#b99 fandom events #b99 fic exchange #b99 #brooklyn nine nine fanfic #Brooklyn nine nine #b99 summer 2021 fic exchange

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xoxobuckybarnes · 3 years

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The Last Ride

January 14, 2013. Jake Peralta and Amy Santiago make a bet, hoping to prove once and for all who is the best detective of the 99th Precinct. Jake bets his car, because losing the “chick magnet’ (as Charles insists it is), would be the worst thing in the world for Jake. For Amy? The worst thing in the world would be being one of those chicks in Jake’s car.

But, when Amy wins the bet, one year later, she still finds herself as one of those chicks in Jake’s car. Is it really the worst thing in the world?

Written for @stolethekey for #b99summer2021ficexchange

You can also read it on AO3

Chapter One: The Win

Amy ran into the precinct, grabbing a perp by the back of his shirt, her breathing heavy. “Ladies and Gentlemen,” she announced. “I present Carl Laudson, who stole $3,000.” She looked down at her watch to confirm the time before triumphantly continuing. “Santiago takes the lead with one minute left. Suck it, Peralta.”

Exactly one year ago, Jake and Amy made a bet to see who could get the most felony arrests, thus proving once and for all who was the better detective. Jake bet his car, his most cherished possession in the world. Charles insisted that losing such a total “chick magnet” would be the worst thing in the world for Jake. Thus, since being “one of those chicks in Jake’s car” would be the worst thing in the world for Amy, if Jake won, she would have to go on the worst date in the world with him. There was no way she was going to lose. Unfortunately, Jake had the same intensity about winning.

All year long, they had been going back and forth. As of this morning, they were tied. Both got to work, doing everything possible to take the lead. Amy couldn’t believe that she was about to win.

“Oh no,” Jake responded, panicked.

“That’s right ‘oh no.’”

Jake started grabbing folders from his desk, urgently flipping through them, hoping to find something, anything. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.”

“Not going to happen. Time to admit defeat in 10…9…8…7…6…5…4…3…2…1! Your car is mine. Hand over the keys,” Amy victoriously demanded.

“This can’t be happening,” Jake moaned, reluctantly handing over his keys to Amy. Just as she was about to take the keys from him, he snatched his hand back. “Please, can I just have one last night with my car? I didn’t even have a chance to say goodbye to her.”

Amy furrowed her brows. “I don’t know if I trust you…”

Jake placed both hands on her shoulders, forcing her to look right at him. “I promise, I’ll give you the car. You won the bet, fair and square, and I’m not one to be a sore loser.” (Amy raised her eyebrows in disbelief at that). “I just want one last night so I can really say goodbye.”

Amy looked at Jake intensely. He looked so sincere, a trait that was not common for Jake. Although she didn’t know what it was about that hunk of junk that Jake loved so much, she did know that he needed one last night of memories. She shrugged his hands off her shoulders. “Fine, but I’m coming with you.”

A wide grin spread across Jake’s face. “Deal!”

Chapter Two: The Stakeout

Several hours later, Jake picked up Amy in his car.

“So, what do you have planned for tonight?” Amy asked as she slid into the passenger’s seat.

“First, we’ll stop at Shaw’s for Charles’ party,” Jake explained. “Then, I thought we could take a drive upstate. Just see where the road takes us.”

“Awesome.”

The whole squad was at Shaw’s celebrating Charles. Earlier in the day, he had been honored by the NYPD for his bravery when he jumped in front of a bullet heading straight for Rosa just last month. Unfortunately, Charles had fallen off the stage while taking pictures. To relieve himself from the pain, he upped his pain medication, which had the amusing effect of making him very honest.

“Jake! Amy! So glad you stopped by,” Charles greeted them enthusiastically. Jake acknowledged Charles with a nod and then headed to the bar to get a drink for him and Amy, leaving her alone with Charles. Charles leaned in closer to Amy, raised his eyebrows and whispered, “You and Jake look so good together.”

Amy did not appreciate the weird look that Charles was giving her, insinuating that Jake and she made a cute couple. Jake was one of her best friends. She loved hanging out with him and competing with him at work. But he was irresponsible and messy and immature. While she did think he was attractive and had once had a small crush on him when they first met, now that she knew him better, there was no way she’d let their relationship be anything more than friendship.

She was relieved when Jake rejoined them, handing her a beer.

Charles wiggled his eyebrows as he said, “I’ll leave you two alone,” in an unpleasantly high-pitched tone.

Jake looked at Amy confused. “What was that about?”

“Nothing,” Amy insisted before quickly changing the subject. “So, shall we go find a seat?”

She followed Jake to a table where they sat with Gina and Rosa. They talked about memories in Jake’s car, sharing both fun and horror stories. Just as Jake and Amy were getting ready to leave, the Captain called Jake over.

“So, small change in plans,” Jake said, walking back over to Amy. “Duty calls before we take off on our road trip.”

Half an hour later, Amy found herself sitting in Jake’s car in a sketchy side street staking out a warehouse.

“Sorry our road trip has been delayed,” Amy said to Jake. “But it’s still your last night with the car. Come sunrise, I’m the proud owner.”

Jake nodded. “Well, at least I’m still getting a night in the car. A stakeout is still a pretty awesome way to say goodbye.”

“I’m glad you think that,” Amy replied.

Amy looked around the street they were on. It was pretty dark, and it was hard to see anything. She was a little nervous that they’d miss the suspects because they couldn’t see very well. Clearly Jake was thinking the same thing.

“Hey, those people left that door open.” Jake nodded towards the building across the street from the one they were staking out. “I bet there’s a better vantage point from the roof.”

“Hmm. And I bet it doesn’t smell like old cheese,” Amy said, taking a low blow at Jake’s car.

“Okay, that’s hurtful,” Jake said. “Shall we?”

“Yeah,” Amy responded, keen to get out of the car.

Up on the roof, Amy found two crates. She carried them close to the edge of the roof and placed them down for her and Jake to sit on.

Jake, who was standing higher up on the roof declared, “Man, I don’t know how Batman does it. It is super scary up here.”

Amy laughed at Jake’s confession as he called out, “Hey, will you grab the binoculars? They’re in my stakeout bag.”

Amy rummaged through his bag, searching for his binoculars. “You’re stake out bag is 98% nuts,” she informed him.

“I get snacky,” Jake argued. “Besides, nuts are super healthy. They’re like 0% fat.”

“Jake, that’s not true at all. It’s actually the opposite.”

“What! That nut vendor lied to me?” Jake retorted in mock outrage.

Amy laughed. Jake was a grown man. How could he be so uninformed about the world? If it wasn’t so sad, she might have found his cluelessness endearing.

Jake held up the binoculars to his eyes. Amy looked closely out onto the street below them, taking in every detail of the area that she could, looking for anything suspicious going on.

“I think a pigeon just flew out of your car,” she informed Jake.

“Yeah,” Jake responded, not sounding surprised. “The windows don’t exactly roll up.”

Amy took a deep breath, wondering if she should tell Jake what she was thinking, about how awful his, or rather her, car was. Deciding there was nothing to lose by stating her honest opinion, she declared, “The car’s a piece of crap. Why do you love it so much?”

Jake sighed. Amy knew he was about to tell a story.

“You really want to know?”

She nodded.

“I was two days out of the academy, super nervous. I saw this guy run out of a bodega clutching a bunch of cash. So, I pursued him, on foot. Eleven blocks. Finally catch him, cuff him, throw him up against that car. Turned out there was a ‘for sale’ sign in the window. And it being the best day of my life, I bought it. Thus, began the debt.”

“’Crushing debt,’” Amy corrected him, recalling his words a year ago when they had made the bet.

Jake nodded enthusiastically and smiled as he replied, “Yeah. You do know me.”

She found Jake’s story about his beloved car heartwarming. For a moment, he had been vulnerable with her, admitting to being nervous, an emotion she had never known him to experience. Sure, it was stupid to go into debt over a car, especially one that was such a piece of shit. But, in Jake’s situation, it was pretty sweet. For the first time since she’d know him, she saw a sincere side of Jake. She couldn’t help but find it the tiniest bit attractive.

“Nut?” she asked, trying to distract herself from the unpleasant thought she’d just had.

“Only if you throw it,” Jake insisted.

“Ready? Ready?” she asked, preparing to toss a nut towards Jake.

“Mmm-hmm,” he hummed.

She threw it and he caught it in his mouth with ease. “Nice.”

Amy held the bag out towards Jake, and he took a nut. “Ready?”

“Uh-uh.”

Jake tossed the nut into the air. Amy tried her best, turning her head to the side. Ultimately, she failed to catch it in her mouth. Jake started laughing. “What are you doing? Trying to catch it in your nose?”

Amy laughed too, catching onto Jake’s contagious laughter.

Confident that she could catch a nut in her mouth, she declared, “I got it. I got it. I got it.”

They were interrupted by Jake’s phone ringing. He stood up and walked away as he said, “All right. It’s Holt. Keep practicing.”

Amy took another nut out of the bag, and threw it up into the air, again, failing to catch it. She took one more nut, trying, and failing yet again. Suddenly, she had an idea, she grabbed a handful of nuts and tossed them all in the air. Surely, she was bound to catch one of them. She was quite pleased with herself when she managed to get a nut in her mouth.

“What did Holt want?” Amy asked as Jake rejoined her.

“Just checking in. How you doing? Any progress?”

Amy was excited to show off to Jake her new ability to catch a nut in her mouth. “Yep, watch.”

She tossed her handful of nuts into the air, catching several of them this time.

“The key is volume,” she said, her mouth full.

Jake smirked. “I see that.”

After several more turns of tossing nuts back and forth to each other, Jake said, “So, be honest. Are you really gonna destroy my car?”

Amy smiled, thinking back on the week. She had constantly implied that she would cause damage against the car, even pretending to find out how she could light it on fire, hoping that the threat of not just losing the ownership of the car, but that the car would physically be gone, would distract Jake from beating her at the bet. Clearly, her strategy had succeeded.

Amy looked closely at Jake. She noticed the slightest tremor in his jaw, his eyes wide with concern. She could tell that he was genuinely concerned about the future status of his car. Now that she knew how much it meant to him, she felt bad about the threats she had made earlier this week.

Again, Amy felt herself feeling a new emotion towards Jake, one that she wasn’t 100% comfortable with. But his vulnerability and sincerity made him more attractive to her.

Ignoring her current confusion of feelings, Amy shook her head. “No, I’m gonna drive it. So, I can learn stick.”

Jake jerked his head towards Amy so fast she was surprised he hadn’t snapped it.

“You wouldn’t.”

“I would. I will,” she teased. “It’ll be like…” Amy started making screeching noises, indicating that she’d intentionally damage the car in her careless attempts to drive it.

“No, no…” Jake suddenly stopped protesting Amy’s mocking as he grabbed at her arm, calling her attention to the action on the street. “Hey, hey.”

Jake pulled Amy down so that they were both crouching on the ground. Amy peered out over the edge, where she saw a truck backing up to the docking station of the building across the street.

“There’s our guys,” Jake said, pointing at the truck that had pulled up down the block from where they were parked.

“What’s the play here?”

“Uhhh…” Jake hesitated.

Amy looked around them, looking for any bit of inspiration. She spotted Jake’s rundown car. Suddenly she had an idea. “Follow my lead.”

Amy took the keys out of Jake’s stakeout bag before she threw the bag to him. She led him down to the car and popped the hood. “Seriously,” she yelled at him. Jake looked confused, so Amy continued. “I told you the car was gonna die. It’s a piece of crap.”

Jake nodded, the slightest hint of a smile displayed on his face before he put his game face on. “Of course, my car is a piece of crap. All my stuff is crap. You have to criticize everything I own, or say, or do,” he barked back, throwing the bag into the back seat with a slam of the door.

Out of the corner of her eye, Amy saw the men at the truck sneaking glances at her and Jake. They would have to get louder, make it impossible for these guys to continue to ignore them.

“Well, when you don’t take care of your shit, we end up in these situations,” she shouted, raising her voice.

“Jeez, I guess I can’t do anything right,” Jake hollered back at her.

Finally, one of the men approached them. “Excuse me,” he said, tentatively. “Is everything alright here?”

“No,” Amy snapped at him. “My boyfriend here didn’t check the car like I told him to.”

Amy had not meant to say ‘boyfriend.’ Honestly. She was just going to pretend that Jake was her friend. That’s all. Where had the word ‘boyfriend’ come from?

“You need a jump?” the guy asked.

Amy looked to Jake and gave a nod. “Yes.”

Jake took over from there, pulling his gun out from the back of his pants. “But first, NYPD, on the ground, you’re under arrest.”

Amy looked over at Jake and smiled. “Nice job.”

“Thanks, you too.” Jake smiled back at Amy.

“Oh snap,” the guy reacted, putting his hands behind his head and kneeling down on the ground. “I’m sad you’re all arresting me, but I gotta say, I’m glad you’re not actually fighting. You all make a cute couple.”

There it was again – the insinuation that she and Jake were a couple. Not even just a couple, but a good one. This time was more alarming though than Charles’ suggestion. Charles knew and loved both Jake and Amy. His insistence that they would be a good couple could just be explained by a man wanting two of his best friends to be happy together. This guy though, well, he didn’t know Jake and Amy, and yet, he saw something between them.

By the time they got the guys to the precinct and completed all the paperwork, it was early in the morning. Jake and Amy were expected back at the precinct for their next shift in only a few hours. A road trip was out of the question.

Jake left the keys on Amy’s desk before he snuck out of the precinct without even saying goodbye. She hadn’t even noticed that he did it. She felt bad that he didn’t get his last night with his car, but she admired his commitment and that he stayed true to his word.

Early the next morning, Captain Holt called Amy into his office. “Good job on the stake out. I’m glad to see you two still work well together despite that ridiculous bet.”

Amy smiled at the Captain’s praise. “Thanks. Me, too.”

“And, I appreciate you turning down the relief team. I’m not sure they could’ve made that bust.”

Amy was confused, unsure about what the Captain was talking about. What relief team? All of a sudden, it dawned on her. That must have been the real reason the Captain had called last night. He wasn’t checking up on them, he was offering another team so that they could get back to Jake’s last night with his car. By why had Jake refused the relief team? He loved his car and she could tell that he really wanted one last night to fill with memories. Why would he trade in that night for one of paperwork?

“Yeah. Right. The relief team.”

Amy left the Captain’s office and paused, looking at Jake. She had the next two days off, and she was positive that Jake also had the same time off. She might have won the bet and now been the fair winner of Jake’s car, but she knew what she had to do. Walking past Jake’s desk, she dropped the keys in front of him.

“Huh?” Jake asked, picking up the keys and tossing them back on Amy’s desk. “You won. The car is yours. Fair and square.”

Amy tossed the keys back to Jake. “I promised you one last road trip with your car, and you didn’t get it. We’re both off tomorrow, I figured we could take your road trip this weekend.”

Jake beamed. “Okay, thanks.”

Amy couldn’t help but beam back. She couldn’t explain why Jake’s joy was making her so happy right now.

Chapter Three: The Road Trip

Thirty-six hours after he was initially meant to give Amy his car, Jake rolled up to her apartment building, ready for one last road trip. Amy heard him honking from her bedroom. She grabbed her backpack and went to meet him outside.

“Yo!” he shouted out the driver’s seat window.

“Yo!” she yelled back as she walked over to the car. After settling into the passenger seat, Jake took off. “So, where are we going?”

Jake fidgeted with the radio before responding to her. The music of Queen came blasting through the speakers. “We’re going East. I thought we could explore Long Island. Anywhere we want to stop, we stop. Just see where the road takes us.”

Amy nodded in agreement. “Awesome.”

Jake took off heading Northeast, up into Queens. When they started seeing signs for Citi Field, Jake talked about how his dad used to take him to Mets games when he was younger. Jake so rarely talked about his dad. She was touched that he was sharing something so personal with her.

“He’d always buy me a special program and ice cream in a helmet. I kept every single one. Every program. Every helmet. They’re all in a box under my bed in my mom’s house,” Jake described. “He took me to my first game when I was 5. The last game he took me to was when I was 9, so I only have like 4 or 5 programs and helmets. And obviously I’ve been to tons of games since then, but I’ve never been able to buy another program or ice cream in a helmet. It’s always been me and my dad’s thing. I haven’t been able to do it on my own.”

Amy stared at Jake through his monologue. Sure, Jake talked a lot. Seeing him say so much was nothing new. What was new however, was him talking so much about something serious and personal. He didn’t even notice her staring as he continued on.

“Actually, I cried at the first game that I went to at Citi Field. Not like hysterical, just shed a couple of tears. It was as if I was mourning the fact that I’d never get to go to a game at Shea Stadium with my dad ever again. I hadn’t even known that the last time would be the last.” Finally, Jake looked over at Amy. “Why are you looking at me weird? Am I talking too much?”

Amy shook her head. “No, not at all. Thanks for opening up to me Jake.”

Jake stared straight ahead, keeping his eyes focused on the road. He shrugged. “You’re easy to talk to.”

They drove in silence for a little while. Eventually, Amy saw a sign for Sagamore Hill.

“Ooh! Sagamore Hill. Teddy Roosevelt’s home. I’ve always wanted to go.”

Jake took the exit. “Then we should go.”

They pulled into the parking lot at around 9:15. Amy went into the visitor’s center as Jake walked around the grounds. She met him 10 minutes later.

“C’mon,” she exclaimed, grabbing his hand and pulling him to the house. “Our tour starts in 5 minutes.”

Amy knew that history was not Jake’s thing. She kept looking at him while they toured the house, wanting to make sure that he was enjoying himself. He seemed pretty interested in what the park ranger was telling them. He even asked a follow-up question about Roosevelt’s conservation efforts.

After the tour they visited the gift shop. Amy picked out a teddy bear to buy her youngest niece. Jake bought a teddy bear, too. He insisted it was for his mom, though Amy had a feeling it was really for himself.

“Thanks for doing that for me,” Amy said when they were back on the road.

Jake glanced over at Amy, a small smile on his face. “Well, you listened to me get emotional about my dad. So, we’re even.”

“Well, to show my gratitude, I have a treat for you.” Amy reached into the backseat to grab her backpack. She pulled out her surprise for Jake with a “Ta-da!”

Jake looked at what she was holding up and gasped. “Gummy bears!”

She put the backpack down by her feet and opened the bag of gummy bears. She grabbed Jake’s hand to hold it steady in her own. She couldn’t help but notice the way his hand twitched at her touch. She poured him a handful of bears and them picked out a few for herself.

“You’re the best, Ames!” Jake exclaimed with a mouthful of candy.

Having spent some time on the North Shore of Long Island, Jake decided that they needed to head south now. They kept driving, Amy sharing the gummy bears with him until they where all gone. Eventually they were at Heckscher State Park.

“When I was little, my Grandparents lived not too far from here,” Jake explained as he pulled into the parking lot. “After my dad left, my mom had to work more, so sometimes I’d spend weekends out here with them. If the weather was nice, my Grandfather would take me to the playground here while my Grandmother was at her Garden Club.”

“Do they still live here?” Amy asked as she climbed out of the car.

“Nah, they moved to Florida when they retired when I was 19. Then my grandmother passed away when I was 27 and my grandfather passed away a few months later.”

Amy was learning more about Jake today then she had learned about him in the last five years that they worked together. She was touched that he was feeling comfortable opening up to her.

They walked along the path, Jake pointing out places he remembered – where he rode his bike for the first time, where he played little league baseball, where he fell and scraped his chin, where Gina had kissed him when she visited his Grandparents with him when they were 16. Eventually, they reached the bay. “And this is where I learned how to swim. My grandfather was very patient. We spent hours here every Saturday when I was 8 and by the end of the summer, I was swimming!”

Amy didn’t say anything, she just looked at Jake. She’d known him for five years and had always considered them to be good friends. But she never realized until now how little she actually knew about him. She was liking everything that she was hearing. She enjoyed Jake’s vulnerability and openness. It felt like their friendship was evolving.

Jake turned away from the water, which he had been looking at so intensely, to look at Amy. “You’re looking at me weird again. Oh no! Am I talking too much again?” he worried. “You know you can tell me to shut up.”

Amy rolled her eyes and shoved his shoulder. “I’m seeing a whole new side to you.” She walked away from him, closer to the water. “I don’t completely hate it.”

Jake strolled closer to the water too, though he kept some distance from her. Silently, they both stared out at the bay. After several minutes, Jake strode over to her and nudged her shoulder, gesturing towards the path. They walked back to the car in silence. It wasn’t a comfortable silence though. There was an awkwardness in the air. Something had shifted. Amy worried that she had said something wrong.

Back in the car Jake put the key into the ignition, pausing before he turned the key to start the car. He turned to look at Amy and she looked back. Jake shook his head and turned the key. He inched forward into the next parking spot, but then stopped the car and pulled the key out, turning back to Amy again.

“I don’t know what’s going on,” he stated.

“Oooookayyyy…” Amy replied when Jake failed to elaborate any further.

Jake took a deep breath. “I opened up to you the other night about my car and why its so important to me. And now I can’t stop. It’s like verbal diarrhea. All these personal stories just keep spilling out and I can’t stop myself.”

Amy nodded. “It’s not a bad thing Jake,” she assured him. “It’s good to have friends you can open up to and be vulnerable with.”

Jake scrunched up his nose. “I don’t know” He sounded hesitant. “You’re not going to tease me? You’re not going to use these things to mock me later?”

She placed her hand on his shoulder and he leaned closer into her. The way he looked at her was so innocent, so pure. It was a look he had never given her before. If she was being honest, she really liked the way he was currently looking at her. “I would never tease you or mock you for the things that make you who you are,” she promised.

Jake bit his bottom lip and then pulled her into a hug. “Thanks.”

Amy’s heart beat faster in Jake’s embrace. When he let go to start driving again, she missed the feel of his arms around her. She ached for the feel of his chest pressed against her.

As they drove along the south shore of Long Island, Amy looked at Jake. There was a crease in his forehead. She could tell that he was still a little uneasy about his sudden display of vulnerability. She knew that the only way to make him feel safer was to show him her own vulnerable side.

“Sometimes I worry that I’m going to die unmarried and alone,” she confessed.

Jake laughed, and she immediately regretted sharing one of her most private fears with Jake. She turned away from him, resting her head against the window, watching the stores passing by out the window.

“Ames,” Jake said. She ignored him. He placed a gentle hand on her shoulder, repeating her name again. She couldn’t stand to look at him. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to laugh. It’s just… I didn’t realize…There’s just…How could you possibly be alone for the rest of your life? You’re smart and kind and beautiful and so much fun to be around…”

Amy turned to look at Jake. His hand was still on her shoulder, and he was glancing back at forth between her and the road. They came to a curve in the road, and he took his hand off her shoulder to control the wheel better. Once the road straightened out again, he put his hand on her knee, giving her a reassuring squeeze. “Any guy would be lucky to be with you.”

Jake removed his hand, and just as she had ached for his embrace, she ached for the pressure of his hand on her knee. She really couldn’t explain what was going on. Just like Jake couldn’t rationalize his sudden display of vulnerability, she couldn’t describe her sudden desire for Jake’s touch and intimacy.

She shook it off to elaborate on her fear.

“It’s just that it’s been so long since I’ve been on a decent date, let alone with someone that I could actually see myself with.” She told him about the magician who thought it was a clever trick to strip down to his boxers, the dentist who gave her an oral exam during the middle of dinner, the artist who kept taking food off her plate without asking, the gym teacher who showed up to a nice restaurant in sweats and complained about the number of calories in each dish, and several other embarrassing and bizarre dates.

“That’s not you. You’re just going out with the wrong guys,” Jake assured her.

“I don’t know,” Amy countered. “These are the guys who ask me out. Do I only attract weirdos?”

Jake shook his head aggressively. “I think you intimidate a lot of guys. I’m not saying that it’s ok. I just think the guys who are good enough for you fear that they’re not good enough for you. “

Amy didn’t respond.

“Does that make sense?” Jake asked.

“Eh,” Amy shrugged.

“You’ll find the right guy. I really believe that,” Jake reassured her.

They continued driving on in silence. Thankfully, not as awkwardly as it was back in the park. In the silence, Amy could hear Jake’s stomach rumbling. She laughed.

“It’s probably time to eat something,” Jake declared, laughing along with Amy.

Amy peered out the window, keeping her eyes open for an interesting place to grab something for lunch.

“How about that Brewery?” Amy asked, pointing to a larger building coming up with a sign that read Blue Point Brewery.

“Looks good to me.”

They each ordered a beer and a sandwich (Cajun Tuna for Amy, Steak for Jake). The conversation was lighter as they ventured into more familiar territory, discussing cases and Amy’s love for their new Captain (Jake was still on the fence about Captain Holt).

They were back on the road just a little before 2:00. Things seemed to be back to normal between them. It had been nice to see a more vulnerable side of Jake. And Amy hadn’t minded sharing something more personal with him. It was nice to explore a different side of their friendship. That being said though, she was happy that they were settling back into their comfort zone, laughing and being silly.

They continued driving east along the south shore of Long Island, eventually reaching the Hamptons. In Southampton, Amy suggested they stop and walk around the town. Being the offseason, not many shops were open, but that was okay. She had fun exploring one of America’s oldest department stores, Hildreth’s. As a gift of gratitude to Jake, for appeasing her as she awed over home furnishings they both knew she wasn’t going to buy, she bought him a quarter pound of fudge at the candy store.

“Hey, I saw a large empty parking lot on our way into the town,” Jake announced as they walked back to the car. “It’d be a good place to practice driving.”

Amy nervously bit her bottom lip. Yes, that was the terms of the bet. Once this road trip was over, Jake’s car would be hers. She had told Jake she would drive his car, despite not knowing how to drive stick, implying that the result could potentially be disastrous. Knowing now how much this car meant to him, she felt bad about telling Jake that she would destroy his car. Out of respect to Jake, she really should learn how to properly drive his car.

They switched spots in the parking lot. Jake gave her a quick overview before directing her step by step through driving stick. She made several mistakes, but Jake was patient with her, even through his wincing. She was finally getting the hang of it when Jake suggested she take the car out on the road.

“You’re sure?” She was starting to get the hang of it but wasn’t feeling confident yet.

“You’ll be fine,” Jake insisted. “Besides, the roads are pretty empty, we’re safe. Just listen to me and focus.”

Amy smiled at Jake’s confidence in her. It made her feel good knowing that he believed in her capabilities.

Slowly but surely, she drove out on the major roads out east. Jake had been right; being winter in summer towns meant that there were very few, if any, cars on the road. By the time the reached Montauk, “The End,” Amy’s confidence in her ability to drive stick was matching Jake’s confidence in her.

“Ames!” he exclaimed. “That was awesome! I’m so proud of you!”

Amy couldn’t help but beam. Yes, she was proud of herself, too. But hearing that Jake was proud of her made her even happier. She couldn’t explain why.

She parked and they got out and walked around the town. As they got closer to the lighthouse, they saw signs stating that the last group up would be let in at 4:45pm.

“We can make it,” Amy asserted, as she grabbed Jake’s hand and pulled him, running to make the last entry up into the lighthouse.

They made it with seconds to spare. Her heart skipped a beat and the butterflies in her stomach fluttered when Jake didn’t immediately release her hand once they reached the lighthouse.

As they walked up the stairs, Amy walked in front of Jake. The steps were steep, and Amy’s heart skipped a beat every time Jake placed his hand on the small of her back to help her steady herself up the stairs. When they reached the top, the small balcony was crowded with others, trying to get in a quick look before the lighthouse closed for the evening. Amy stood, leaning against the railing, enjoying the view of the Atlantic Ocean. She was squeezed between an overly affectionate couple on the left and an adorable family with three small children on the right. To conserve space, or, at least that’s why she thought he was doing it, Jake stood behind her, his arms stretched out on either side of her, resting on the rail. Amy stood with her front pressed up against the railing. When another couple tried to pass behind him, Jake moved up, pressing his front into Amy’s back. Her heart started beating faster as she felt him pressed up against him.

“Sorry,” Jake mumbled when Amy looked behind her. He made to step back, regardless of there being little room, with more people trying to pass behind him.

“Don’t worry about it,” she insisted, pulling him back into her to allow room for others to pass. A kaleidoscope of butterflies exploded in her stomach when Jake stayed pressed up against her.

It wasn’t long before they were ushered down the stairs so the lighthouse staff could shut down for the night. Jake and Amy walked a little bit through the town. They occasionally bumped into each other. Amy could feel Jake’s hand twitch whenever he accidentally grazed hers.

Jake suggested they get dinner before they headed back into the city. They found a little bar that looked cozy. Despite there being plenty of empty tables, they decided to eat at the bar. They each ordered a beer and a few appetizers to share – mozzarella sticks, potato skins, and fish tacos.

“Oh my God!” Amy exclaimed as she saw a lonely bride enter the bar. Her light blonde hair was braided into a bun at the nape of her neck and her long-sleeved, bohemian dress flowed down to the middle of her shin.

Amy leaned in closer to Jake to whisper to him. “Do you think it’s a runaway bride situation?”

They tried not to stare, even when the bride took the empty seat next to Jake.

“Hi!” the bride said to them, beaming from ear to ear.

“Hi!” Jake and Amy responded, unsure of how to react.

“I just got married,” the bride explained, unable to stop smiling.

“Congrats!” Amy responded.

“Here’s my husband!” the bride exclaimed. A tall man with a buzzcut, dressed in a slender-fitting gray suit walked in. Once he spotted his new wife, he ran to join her, grabbing her up into a hug and passionately kissing her. It was one of the sweetest things she’d ever seen.

“Hi, I’m Ken,” the groom said, holding his hand out to Jake and Amy. “This is my wife, Florence.”

Jake and Amy shook his hand and congratulated him.

Ken and Florence were an adorable couple. They couldn’t stop smiling, or keep their eyes, or hands, off each other.

“We wanted a moment just the two of us before we head to the reception,” Florence explained to Jake and Amy.

“Can we buy you a drink?” Amy offered.

Ken shook his head as he got the bartender’s attention. “No, that’s okay, thanks though. Drinks are on us.”

Florence and Ken bought a round of champagne for everyone in the bar. The bartender toasted the happy new couple. As they drank their champagne, then their beer, while they waited for their food to arrive, Jake and Amy talked to the newlyweds.

Ken and Florence had meet five years ago. They worked together at the same marketing firm in the city. They were friendly, hanging out and occasionally flirting. Then, after a year working together, they were assigned to head a campaign together. After many late nights working just the two of them, they realized that their feelings were more than just friendly. So, Ken asked Florence out and they fell in love.

“What about you two? How did you meet? How long have you been together?” Florence asked.

“Oh, no…we’re not…we’re just…” Jake stuttered, while Amy explained, “No, we’re just colleagues. We’re police detectives.”

“Yeah, but there’s something going on between you two, right?” Ken asked.

“Nope, just friends,” Amy said.

“Yeah, just friends,” Jake echoed Amy, though quieter and less sure.

Ken and Florence finished their champagne and Ken checked his phone. “Uh, oh. We’ve got a lot of missed calls. We should probably head off to our reception.”

Florence threw her arms around his neck and placed a kiss on his cheek. “Please, one shot before we go.”

Ken ordered a round of tequila for his new wife, Jake and Amy. They clinked their glasses together and took their shots.

“It was so nice meeting you,” Florence said, pulling Amy into a hug. Quietly, she whispered into Amy’s ear. “Jake really likes you. He looks at you the way Ken looks at me.”

Amy was startled by Florence’s insinuation. Jake liking Amy. She doubted it. Jake was constantly teasing her. She thought back to their day. Jake had opened up to her in a way he never had before. He taken her to visit a historical, presidential home. He shared a part of his childhood. He explored a new department store with her, never once teasing her for her old lady taste in furniture.

And, then there was the way his body reacted at the slightest touch of their bodies. The way his fingers twitched. The way he squeezed her knee, the way his hand felt on her back. The way she could feel his heart beating against her back on the top of the lighthouse.

Maybe Florence was on to something.

Amy waved goodbye to the newlyweds, just as their food arrived. As they ate, they talked about TV shows they were watching and movies they’d recently seen. They were so engrossed in their discussion that they hadn’t noticed that the bartender brought them both another beer, which they both drank without realizing it.

Chapter Four: The Hotel Room

“I’m a little tipsy. I don’t think I can drive,” Jake confessed once they paid for their dinner and made their way out of the bar.

“Me either,” Amy admitted. “Should we just walk around until we sober up?”

“Um, it’s getting pretty cold, and dark. And there’s nothing open. And, it’s almost 7:30, anyway. By the time we sober up and make it all the way back home, it will be like, midnight,” Jake countered. “We could get a hotel room. Each. We can each get our own hotel room.”

Amy looked up at Jake. He was looking down at her with a worried look on his face. She nodded. “Sure.”

They walked a few blocks to the hotel.

“Can we get 2 rooms?” Jake asked the receptionist.

“I’ll check what’s available. There’s a big wedding here this weekend so we’re pretty booked.” The receptionist typed away on the computer. “Looks like there’s only one room available.”

Jake looked down at Amy. “Oh…we don’t… we can find another hotel. Or I can sleep in the car,” he stammered.

Amy shook her head. “It’s okay. We can take the room.”

“You sure?” Jake asked.

Amy shrugged. “Yeah, it’s fine. We’re friends, we can share a hotel room.”

Amy paid for the room.

She looked down at herself and then looked at Jake. “I don’t have a change of clothes or any toiletries or anything.”

Jake looked down at himself too. “Yeah, me neither.”

“There’s soap and shampoo and stuff in the hotel room,” the receptionist interjected. He bent down to pull something out from under the counter. “Here’s toothpaste and toothbrushes for you. And you can pick up some clothes at our hotel shop. It’s been closed up for the night, but I can let you in to pick out some stuff, as long as you promise to come back and pay for it all before you leave tomorrow.”

“Thank you so much!” Amy took the toothbrushes and toothpaste from the receptionist and followed him to the store. She picked out a gray pair of sweatpants and a red crewneck sweatshirt, while Jake picked out a black pair of shorts and a blue long sleeve shirt. They thanked the receptionist again and made their way towards their room.

“Jake! Amy!” Amy turned to look who was calling them. Who did they know in Montauk? Of course, it was Florence and Ken.

“What are you doing here?” Florence asked, approaching Jake and Amy.

“We might have had a little too much to drink,” Amy explained. “We’re just going to sleep here tonight.”

“Oh, okay,” Florence replied, wiggling her eyebrows. Her facial expression was a little too similar to Charles’ when he implied that Jake and Amy would be a cute couple. Amy didn’t know how she felt about the fact that for the third time in less than 48 hours someone had suggested that she and Jake made a cute couple. Thinking back on her interactions with Jake since then, she couldn’t help thinking that perhaps all these people were on to something.

“We’re just changing before we had back to our reception,” Ken clarified. “Hey, you two should join us.”

Amy looked up at Jake. He scrunched up his nose, a look that she knew meant he wasn’t sure; it was a look she had seen numerous times while working on cases with him.

“Thanks for the offer, but I think we’re just going to head back to our room. We’ve had a long day,” Amy responded.

“You sure?” Florence asked.

“Yeah, we’re good,” Jake replied.

Amy followed Jake to their room. Once they arrived, she opened up the room. She was shocked to find that there was only one bed in the room.

“Um, I can go sleep in the car,” Jake offered.

Amy shook her head. “Don’t be silly, there’s plenty of room.”

“Ok, yeah, I’ll just sleep on the floor,” Jake responded.

Again, Amy shook her head. “Jake, you can sleep in the bed. It’s plenty big enough.”

Jake raised his eyebrows. She could tell he was about to ask again if she was sure. She responded before he could ask again. “I’m sure it’s fine.”

“Okay. Cool, cool, cool, cool, cool.”

Amy went into the bathroom to change and wash up. When she emerged, Jake had changed too. As Jake went into the bathroom to wash up, there was a knock at the door. When Amy opened the door, she was greeted by a hotel staff member holding a bottle of champagne.

“I think you have the wrong room…” Amy started but was cut off by the staff member. “It’s a gift from Florence and Ken for Jake and Amy.”

Amy thanked the delivery girl and took the bottle. She noticed a card attached to the neck of the bottle. She opened it up as she closed the door.

Jake and Amy

It was wonderful meeting you. Enjoy this bottle on us! ;)

Love,

Florence and Ken

There was also a post script suggesting that they meet up in the city with both of their phone numbers.

“Who was that?” Jake asked, emerging from the bathroom.

Amy held up the bottle. “A gift from our favorite newlyweds.”

“No doubt, no doubt. That was cool of them,” Jake responded, taking the bottle from Amy. As he opened it up, she grabbed 2 coffee mugs from the desk. Jake poured them each a mug of champagne. They clinked their mugs, toasting their new friends.

Amy sat down on the bed while Jake took the seat at the desk. She turned on the TV, flipping through channels, looking for something they would both agree on watching. An old rerun of SNL was playing on NBC, and Amy left the TV on this channel. They sat in silence, watching, laughing along at the funnier sketches.

During a commercial break, Amy noticed Jake reading the note from Florence and Ken. “Why’d she add a winky face?” he asked.

Amy could feel her face getting red. “Oh, um, well, Florence thinks…you see…she said to me…”

“Ames, what’s going on?”

Amy took a deep breath. “Florence told me she thinks we’d be a cute couple.”

Amy could see Jake take a deep gulp, his face now also turning red. “Oh, okay.”

They both sat there in silence for a moment. Jake turned his attention back to the TV. Halfway through the first sketch after the commercial break, Jake stood up and turned off the TV, turning to look at Amy. “Ken said the same thing to me.”

“Oh, okay.” Amy couldn’t think of anything to say in response to that.

Jake took a step closer to the bed. “Charles has also been implying lately that he thinks I like you and that he wants us to be a couple.”

Amy nodded. “Yeah, he made a comment about that to me too the other night.”

Jake nodded and shrugged. “And those perps made the comment about us being a cute couple.”

“That’s true,” Amy whispered as Jake took a step even closer to her. She found herself unable to speak as Jake sat down next to her on the bed. He was pretty close, his knee grazing her own. Amy felt electricity streaming though her body at the slightest hint of Jake’s touch.

“Do you think all these people are seeing something we don’t see?” Jake whispered. He scooted a little closer to Amy on the bed, giving her goosebumps at how close they were now, their legs resting next to each other’s.

Amy gulped, taking a moment to gain courage. “I think I might understand what everyone else is seeing.”

She was so nervous, she spoke so low. She wasn’t even sure that Jake had heard what she said. But he leaned closer to her, taking her hand in his.

“I think I see it too.” With that he leaned forward and kissed Amy.

She paused at first, shocked by his actions. Her heart was racing and she felt like she was sweating. But as Jake continued to kiss her, she leaned into it, kissing him back. She let go of his hand and wrapped her arms around his neck as he grabbed her waist and pulled her closer into him. Amy shifted back on the bed so that she was leaning against the headrest and Jake shifted with her.

Suddenly, Jake pulled away from Amy, his hands still on her waist. “We’ve had a lot to drink tonight. We should probably stop.”

Amy nodded in agreement. “Yeah, you’re probably right.” But instead of letting go, she pulled him back in to kiss him again.

They continued to kiss for several more minutes before Amy eventually pulled away. She let go of Jake and jumped off the bed. “Yeah, yeah, you’re right. We’ve had too much to drink tonight. We should stop before we do something we regret.”

“Yep,” Jake replied. “Yeah, yeah, yeah. No doubt, no doubt, no doubt.”

Amy looked at Jake. She couldn’t stop smiling. She was so happy about what had just happened. Jake was smiling too.

“I’m gonna go brush my teeth,” she announced.

“I’m gonna wait here,” Jake replied. “I need a minute.”

Amy looked at herself in the bathroom mirror. Her face was flushed, but she couldn’t shake the smile off her face. She felt like it was going to be a permanent fixture for quite a while.

When she finished up in the bathroom, Jake went in to brush his teeth. He placed a chaste kiss on her cheek as he passed her, making her smile grow even larger.

Amy settled into the bed. She turned the TV back on, which was now playing the local news. After several minutes, Jake joined her again. He settled into the bed beside her, turning off the lights in the room. Jake held his arm out and Amy shifted into his side, allowing Jake to cuddle in close to her, her head resting on his chest.

They continued watching TV. After the news, a new episode of SNL started. Soon, Amy began to drift off to sleep. The last thing she noticed before she finally drifted into a blissful sleep was Jake pressing a kiss on the top of her head.

Chapter Five: The New Bet

Amy woke up the next morning, still feeling elated about last night’s events. She was feeling warm in Jake’s embrace. Her head was on his chest, and he was holding her tightly.

“Good morning,” Jake said. Amy looked up at Jake. He kissed her softly on the lips.

“Good morning.”

Amy wriggled out from Jake’s embrace and got out of bed. She looked at her phone, seeing that it was almost 8:00 in the morning.

‘We should get back to the city,” she declared.

She and Jake changed back into their clothes from yesterday. They checked out of the hotel, stopping by the hotel gift shop to pay for the clothes they picked out yesterday. They walked to a bagel shop down the block to get a breakfast to go.

On the drive home, they sang along to the radio and talked about concerts they enjoyed. Every so often, Jake would reach over to Amy and squeeze her knee or hold her hand. At every touch, Amy’s heart skipped a beat. She was so happy. Who would have ever though that Jake Peralta would be able to make her so happy?

Eventually, they reached Jake’s building. He parked the car and turned it off, turning in his seat so that he was facing Amy. “So, I guess this is it. I’m going to miss you, girl.”

Amy was confused. “Um, I’ll see you again.”

Jake shook his head. “I was talking to the car.”

“Of course, you were.” Amy looked closely at Jake. He was really torn apart over losing his car. Charles had been right. Giving up this car would be the worst thing in the world for Jake. Amy hated seeing Jake like this. Especially after everything that had happened between them last night.

“I think you should keep your car,” Amy proclaimed.

Jake took her hand, squeezing it and shook his head. “No, no. You won fair and square. It’s yours.”

“No, it’s yours,” Amy argued. Jake opened his mouth to argue, but Amy held her finger to his mouth to quiet him. “It’s your car because the terms of our bet weren’t fair. You bet one of the most important things in the world to you. And for me, well, I guess I’ve realized that being ‘one of those chicks in your car’ really is not the worst thing in the world. Actually, ‘being one of those chicks in your car’ is kinda awesome.

Jake beamed. “Ames, you’re awesome.” He pulled her into a hug, kissing her cheek. He leaned back and they kissed for quite some time.

“Well, you still won the bet,” Jake stated. “What do you get?”

Amy smiled. “Let’s continue the bet. In one year, whoever loses has to pay to take the winner on a date.”

“It’s a deal.” Jake leaned away from Amy and held out her hand. She shook it, sealing in the new terms of their bet.

#b99 summer 2021 fic exchange #b99 fandom events #Brooklyn Nine Nine #b99 #Jake and Amy #fanfic #writing #@stolethekey

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ao3feed-destiel-02 · 4 months

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I'll haunt you

I'll haunt you https://ift.tt/XtCLBT0 by forgotheknife Dean had held Cas’ face between his hands. There were a few times when Dean had looked at him, really looked at him, and realized the thing in front of him was holy, divine. Fucking sacred. Dean shouldn’t be touching it. But he was. Hell was yesterday’s news and Heaven was nothing for Dean to be concerned about. There was something sacred in his palms. In Dean Winchester’s palms. or: Cas comes back, Jack is a kid (rightfully so) and they buy a cabin in Michigan. Words: 10491, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English Fandoms: Supernatural (TV 2005) Rating: Not Rated Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Categories: Multi Characters: Castiel (Supernatural), Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester, Jack Kline, Claire Novak Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester, Eileen Leahy/Sam Winchester Additional Tags: Post-Canon, Post-Episode AU: s15e18 Despair (Supernatural), Getting Together, Dean Winchester is Saved, Castiel and Dean Winchester Have a Profound Bond, Grief, Character Study, cas comes back, Fix-It, Toddler Jack Kline, Parent Castiel (Supernatural), Dorks in Love, smoking weed, fuck john winchester, we love dean winchester in this house, Kissing, B99 Summer 2019 Fic Exchange, set in the midwest via AO3 works tagged 'Castiel/Dean Winchester' https://ift.tt/5bDW4pw May 29, 2024 at 10:41PM

#IFTTT #AO3 works tagged 'Castiel/Dean Winchester'#Destiel #ao3feed #ao3feed Destiel #Destiel fanfic #Dean Winchester/Castiel #Castiel/Dean Winchester #Dean x Castiel #Castiel x Dean

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thesantiagoperaltas · 3 years

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“15 minutes” For @meepmorpperaltiago

One small incident and 15 very long minutes leads Amy too make a life changing decision

(This 100% isn’t what i think would happen but i tried going with a happy beginning but i would get to the point straight away and struggled to do a filler and make the fic have 1K+ words, it does get happy i promise)

My entry for this years @b99fandomevents hope you enjoy it 😊

Read here on Ao3

#brooklyn nine nine #brooklyn 99 #b99 #b99 summer 2021 fic exchange #b99fandomevents

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womeninpastelred · 4 years

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jake always da mood

#tvshow #when we speak tv #netflix #brooklyn nine nine #b99 #jake peralta #amy santiago #jake and amy #peraltiago #b99 icons #b99 summer 2020 fic exchange #b99 headcanons #nbc b99

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b99fandomevents · 3 years

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I say if we have to go out, then let’s go out in a blaze of glory!

B-b-b-back in the Nine Nine! For what might be our very last chance to hold a fandom event (😢) and count down to B99′s Final Season with all of you!

This time around, it’s all about the last ride. Now, the way you want to interpret this is all up to you; perhaps you want to write something based around the episode (s4, ep 15)? Something you wish or hope to see in season 8? Or perhaps it takes you somewhere else entirely? The Squad taking a trip to Six Flags? Someone saying goodbye to a beloved car?

Or, if you’d rather – what is that one fic idea you’ve always wanted to read but never found? What’s your blaze of glory? 💥

The possibilities are endless, and you can interpret as much or as little of the theme as you wish – but we hope it inspires you!

🚨 Sign-up will be July 1-10, and everyone will receive their assignments no later than July 18. All works will be due by August 8: just in time for S8 premiere on August 12 🚨

Sign up can be found here - and if you have any questions, our Ask Box is always open ☺️ or you can message our amazing admin team: @amydancepants-peralta & the newly inaugurated @amyscascadingtabs! 🥳

A quick reminder of how this works:

You will be assigned 3-5 prompts requested by another participant. Please make sure that your tumblr inbox is open, or that you provide a valid e-mail in your registration form, so we can contact you!

You have until the final date to write and post a fic based on at least 1 of the prompts assigned to you. (If you are inspired to, you may combine and/or fulfill multiple prompts.)

In your post, tag @b99fandomevents and your assigned person’s tumblr URL and/or AO3 username. Also include #b99 summer 2021 fic exchange and #b99fandomevents in the tags.

If something comes up and you realize you won’t be able to complete your fic in time, please contact us. It will not be held against you if you reach out to us at least 10 days before the deadline.

There are also some rules which we’ve added/tweaked since the last challenge:

This challenge’s writing period will be shortened to 3 weeks. We’re hoping that this change will help folks have a clearer, more realistic gauge of how busy they’ll be and minimize unforeseen interruptions.

A minimum length requirement of 1k words. We recognize that writing longer fics is easier for some more than others, but we think it’s reasonable to expect a certain amount of thought and effort in an event like a fic exchange.

While we all love to explore our creativity, submitted prompts should include at least one option that can be interpreted as canon compliant/divergent (i.e. not a complete AU). We hope that doing this will broaden the possibilities of writer/prompt pairings!

#WE’RE BACK BABY!#now let’s all dust off our matching leather jackets and get prompting!#b99 summer 2021 fic exchange #b99fandomevents #shoutout to Sara for her amazing gif skills!

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peraltiagos-toitnups · 3 years

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ONE. MORE. HOUR!!!

#i'm so excited i can't sit still #it's really hereee #b99 #b99 season 8 #b99 summer 2021 fic exchange #brooklyn nine nine #brooklyn 99

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seagreen-meets-grey · 3 years

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The Last Slide (Disco, Disco)

This fic is part of the b99 fic exchange organized by @b99fandomevents and I wrote this for @feeisamarshmallow :)

I combined a few prompts and hope I did them justice.

Read on ao3

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Chapters: 1 2 3 4

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Of all the feelings the human body is able to experience, the first one greeting Jake when he comes to is pain. If he had a choice, he would choose something happier, more exciting and, well, less painful.

It rises on the back of his head, almost at the top, like the source of a river somewhere high in the mountains. High in the mountains – that’s what he feels like.

It then wraps around his skull, pulsating behind his forehead, and trickles down into his neck. Sleeping on the floor of his first apartment for two weeks because he had yet to buy a decent bed or mattress was nothing against this, at least that’s what his tense muscles are screaming at him right now.

Squeezing his eyes shut against the pain, he turns his head and winces. His whole body feels sore. He wonders if last night ended in a few rounds too many but comes up short. What did he do last night? The mere attempt at remembering sends a sharp pain through his skull.

He’s on the floor. That’s the next thing he realizes. The surface is cold and hard, not concrete, not wood, not tiles, certainly not carpet. Where is he? How did he get here?

Hard as he tries, he just… He can’t remember. The pulsing in his head gets louder and he groans. Slowly, carefully, he blinks one eye open, bracing himself against any glaring light. Then opens the other one. It’s dark. Everywhere, all around, deep, dark blackness. Is he blind? He blinks a couple of times and sees shimmers. Can blind people see shimmers?

The hand raised to the back of his head comes away warm and moist. He immediately knows it’s blood but sniffs at it anyway. He was right. Because what else would it be? “Bring a fancy bottle of lavender shampoo,” he hears Charles in his head, “because shampooing a woman’s hair is the most erotic thing–” Jake groans again to drown out the voice. No, it’s definitely blood.

But seriously, where is he? His chest tightens as he feels the panic rising. He can’t see, he has no idea what’s going on, he has a bleeding wound on his head and he’s sure there are bruises all over his body. He could poke all the places he suspects, but a disapproving face appears in front of him before he can move a muscle. It’s Amy. Amy… Something tells him he’s supposed to call her. Did he forget to call her? Does she know where he is? Oh god, is Mac okay?!

An overwhelming sense of longing hits him and the panic returns not a moment later when he realizes he can’t call her because his phone is gone and so are his keys and his wallet is not in his pocket either and– His breathing becomes shallow, his chest feels tight, lungs filled with vacuum; he presses the balls of his hands against his eyes and the shimmers get worse.

“Breathe, Jake.” It’s her voice. “In… And out… In… Through the nose, Jake… And out…” Gradually, he regains his composure. His head still hurts and he still can’t see a thing, but he’s calm again. Well, calmer.

He tries to sit up but sees stars as soon as he raises his head too much. Okay, cool, cool, cool, the floor it is, then.

You’re a detective of the NYPD, he tells himself. You’ve been in situations worse than this. Remember, you survived several months in Florida. And prison.

His blood turns to ice. He isn’t back there, is he?! Back in solitary, alone, in the middle of the night, for two long weeks–

No, you idiot, the rational voice in his head immediately scolds him. It sounds a lot like Amy.

Once again, he tries to remember what happened, but... Nothing. Nada. Niente. Nichts. Only a worsening headache. So he goes back further, imagines he’s walking down a road inside his brain, passing blurry corners and intersections, until something appears before him, sharp and clear.

There. He can start there.

***

The sound of a file landing on his desk pulled Jake’s eyes from his paperwork. It was a case file, evident to him by one single glance. But what really piqued his interest was who had delivered it to him.

“Ah, look who’s spending one of her last days at the Nine-Nine in her favorite bullpen! To what do we owe this honor?”

Amy Santiago, about to kick-start her career in her very own precinct as the youngest female Captain of the NYPD, looked down at him proudly and nodded at the folder on his desk. “Check the file.”

Intrigued, Jake did so, scanning the forms inside. He gasped, eyes wide and twinkling. “A murder at the water park? Ames!”

“Did you read the details,” she asked, leaning down and eagerly pointing at the page, “about how the victim died?”

His eyes flew over the paper, soaking up every bit of important information in record time, the glee in his chest threatening to bubble over. “Oh, Amy, please tell me this case hasn’t been assigned yet.”

“It has.” The glee cooled down to a simmer at her words, but as he looked up, the little smirk on her face turned the heat up again to boil. (Maybe he was a bit hungry.) “I asked Holt if I could have it and he said yes. And he let me pick a secondary.”

Ants were crawling through his veins as he waited for her to confirm what he could already read on her face.

“Jake Peralta,” she said in a voice cornering on solemn, “pack your bag, because we’re going to the water park!”

“Yes!” He celebrated by taking the pile of paperwork he’d been working on all morning and throwing it in the air. It scattered all over his desk, on his lap, on the floor around his feet. A few sheets slid under his desk, Scully’s chair, Holt’s shoes – oh. Whoopsie.

“Peralta, please clean this up,” the Captain ordered in a stern voice. “You’re taking on the case with Santiago, but I still expect your paperwork to be done on time.”

Jake nodded as he stood. “Will do, Sir. Trust me, I won’t water anything down for you!” A single raised eyebrow was his answer before the Captain returned to his office. ��Yeah, that was kind of lame, wasn’t it?”

Amy scrunched up her face in that adorable way of hers and nodded.

“Doesn’t matter, we’re going to the water park!”

“It’s for work, Jake,” she reminded him, “we’re not there to splash around. When I said to pack your bag, I meant your work bag.”

“Right.” He sobered a little, but then he remembered the details of the case. “Time to pack the real work bag that I definitely have and hit the road with the best former detective and soon-to-be Captain of the NYPD!” He grabbed his jacket and had taken three steps towards the elevator when he heard someone call his name in a reprimanding voice from the vicinity of Terry’s desk.

He turned to meet the expectant eyes of both his Lieutenant and wife. “Huh? Oh, right, my mess.”

Scrambling to pick up the scattered sheets of paper, one hand preventing the badge around his neck from hanging into his face bending forward, he could practically feel the combination of eye-roll and fond smile directed at him.

“We’re not going until this afternoon,” Amy explained, “we both still have paperwork to do and the movers are coming back around noon for the rest of the furniture, remember?”

Charles chose that moment to invite himself into the conversation, rolling over in his chair. “I can handle that for you two so you can go work the case together because you’re an absolute dream team!” He grabbed the file from Jake’s desk and scanned the information. “Oh daddy, this is a good one!”

“Oh daddy?” Jake repeated while Amy shook her head.

“This is our last day at the apartment and I already cleared everything with Holt. You’re welcome to help, Charles, but Jake and I are handling this.”

Charles shrugged apologetically at Jake and rolled back to his desk.

“Wow,” Jake said in a low voice, “he didn’t even protest this time. You really have him under control these days.”

Amy quickly raised a hand to shush him. “Psst, don’t jinx it.” She fished a sheet he’d overlooked from the hood of his jacket. “See you later, babe!”

***

The rest of the morning is all but a blur. He remembers Rosa showing up late for work, remembers Terry settling a lasagna-related feud between Hitchcock and Scully, but that’s it. Mama Maglione, his head still hurts…

There were movers. There were boxes, a few shelves, the fridge. And there was Amy, finding one of her favorite pens behind the wardrobe when they lifted it, beaming with joy.

He tries to roll over but the movement makes him dizzy again and his stomach queasy. His ears ring. He has a concussion, no doubt.

Did one of the movers drop a shelf on his head?

No, something at the edge of his memory tells him they’re long gone. Wherever Jake is, though, he’s not been here long enough for his blood to dry.

If only his ears stopped ringing, then he could listen for anyone, anything – “Hello?” he croaks out and clears his throat. “Hello!”

He listens, calls again, louder, the volume of his own voice hurting his head. There is no response.

Letting out a string of swears that would make Holt gasp out loud, he massages his temples in an attempt to relieve some of the pain.

It just so works enough that he can muster up the concentration needed to dive back into his memories.

***

Amy wiped a few beads of sweat from her brow and stepped back to examine her work. The parts of the walls still occupied by a last piece of furniture up until an hour ago now glistened in a crisp, pristine white, just like the rest of the apartment’s walls.

She dropped the paint-brush she’d just cleaned into the bucket with the paint roller and the other brushes, took off her gloves and went to wash her hands with the piece of soap she’d brought in forethought like the everyday-wizard that she was. She’d also brought a towel, a big bottle of water, snacks for lunch, a painter’s smock, old shoes, and everything else that Jake would never have thought to bring.

He was sitting in the middle of the living room, patting the space next to him when Amy returned from the bathroom. Her steps echoed in the empty space, loud and foreign on the laminate floor. She sat down next to him, a hand on his arm as she studied the bare place.

Moving a shoe across the floor, tapping a finger against a zipper, even exhaling, it all made so much noise in the silence. At the same time, the apartment couldn’t be louder. It was crawling with ghosts trying to make themselves heard.

There was the TV blaring the news or cartoons or Die Hard, there was the squad gathered around the table at Thanksgiving, there was Victor Santiago briefly interacting with Holt and creating an impact still reverberating in every corner, there was Pimento contemplating his professional future, Hitchcock justifying his choice to go shirtless during dinner, Charles getting mauled by a live turkey, his father cutting off his other thumb.

There was Mac taking his first steps, saying his first words, there was Jake realizing he never ever wanted his life to be anything but this. Realizing how much he’d grown in the past years. He had a wife, a child, a much stabler balance in his bank account. He was wearing a tie to work most of these days. This morning, he hadn’t even made a fuss about cleaning up the mess he’d made. Just a few years ago, he’d have simply left it for someone else to clean, maybe Terry, maybe Amy, probably Charles.

During all this time, this apartment had always been there, even before Holt had joined the precinct. Even before he’d figured out the reason behind his instant mood change whenever Santiago smiled or yelled at him or did or said something he immediately wanted to tease her about. Even before he knew what he really wanted from his life.

“This is it,” Amy whispered, but she could have screamed it, it wouldn’t have made much of a difference.

“Yep,” he said, popping the p. “Time to leave.”

Neither of them moved. It seemed almost rude to disrupt this rowdy silence, to pull the plug and close the door, forever sealing the many lives that met here, happened here, were quite literally created here, within these walls. Some time in the near future, a completely different life would fill up the space, change the personality of every nook and cranny, cover the walls and floor with new memories.

“Remember the time my dad and Holt met, right over there?” Her voice almost sounded hoarse and his hand instinctively covered hers.

He turned to her with excited eyes. “That’s what I just thought!” She grinned, interlaced their fingers and squeezed. “Hey, you know what they say: Great minds think alike.”

When her eyes met his this time, they conveyed a meaning much deeper than a simple saying. Theirs were great minds that thought alike, in so many ways. It was a connection, a meeting of souls, a clashing of personalities that mended and merged and completed the other on a level that just made sense. Maybe it was because they’d known each other, worked with each other, had been such an integral part of each other’s lives for so long. But he couldn’t deny that it felt like magic.

Magic. That was a good descriptor, he thought. He knew that a part of her would try to explain mating hormones and brain signals and psychological influences and genes and evolution. But the part of her that loved, the part that laughed at his jokes and fell asleep next to him every night, it knew he was right. Whatever they had, it was magical and it was real. Permanent.

She leaned over to kiss him, soft and slow. It was a moment he’d call perfect, if it weren’t for the lack of interruption by a hyperactive toddler demanding attention. Jake almost expected Mac’s small body to jump between them, crawl over their laps, and ask for his dad to play airplane with him again.

But today, in-between work at the precinct and the apartment where a three-year-old would just get in the way, Mac was spending the day with his grandparents while his parents took care of everything. Now that Amy was making more money and with their decision to have more kids, the old apartment just wasn’t enough anymore, a toddler with an abundance of energy not even factored in. It only made sense to move to a bigger place, and that meant saying goodbye to these familiar old walls.

With a sigh, Jake got to his feet and held out his hand. “Come on.” In the end, they weren’t leaving the treasure chest behind, they were taking it with them, in their hearts, in all their stuff waiting to be unpacked in the new place, in their memories. In a way, they were leveling up. Bam, Mario reference.

She took his hand and let him pull her to her feet, taking one last deep breath before patting the pockets of her jeans. “Keys are all here. By the way, I promised Rosa I’d help her with something tonight, you’ll have to meet with the landlord alone. Is that okay?”

He shrugged. “Sure.” Normally, it would feel weird to him to finalize this whole thing without her, but they’d just said their goodbye together. Everything else was already part of the next level. (He started to get into that Mario analogy. Or was it a metaphor?)

Looking around one last time, hand in hand, they turned around and opened the door – to the next part of their lives.

***

There’s someone else nearby. Jake can hear steps through the ringing in his ears. He tries to speak, call for help – but decides against it at the last second. He’s not sure the heavy boots he can make out approaching him are housing particularly friendly feet.

“Where is he?” The voice is sharp, male, vaguely familiar. “Where is the son of a bitch?”

Jake has no idea. About anything. A bright light is shone in his face, a small flashlight maybe. He tries to turn his head to see the person the voice belongs to, but as soon as he moves, a dirty boot presses down on his face. He can feel the footprint marking his skin, hears his head throbbing.

“Where the fuck is he and how did he do it?!”

The boot presses down harder and Jake’s lips touch the floor. Something smells familiar as well, but he can’t concentrate on that. He tries to speak but his voice only comes out muffled. The other man realizes and the boot disappears.

“Answer me! How the fuck did that bastard pull it off?!” The man spits on the ground, only inches away from Jake’s face. The saliva is foaming in the middle. Jake registers the flooring but his brain can’t make sense of it.

“I don’t know,” he gets out. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

The boot connects with his shin, hard. He cries out in pain.

“WHERE!” The boot kicks him again, this time right in the old gunshot wound back from Florida. Jake clenches his teeth and hisses. “WHERE IS HE!”

“I don’t… Ugh…” He has to close his eyes against the light. Bright spots are dancing behind his lids. He can’t think. “Who even…”

This time, there are three consecutive kicks in his stomach. He coughs and splutters, curling his body protectively around himself. He feels like throwing up, breathless, dizzy. Another kick hits him in the ribs and for a moment, there’s only pain. He’s disoriented, searing hot fire spreads through his chest, he can taste blood on his tongue.

“I’m not an idiot. I know exactly what he did! NOW TELL ME WHAT YOU KNOW OR I WILL–”

Jake prepares himself for another kick, but it doesn’t come.

“Shit…” the man hisses and the light goes out. Somewhere, faintly, Jake hears a door opening. But before he can even think about calling out, horrible pain explodes in his abdomen. This time, it’s too much. He can’t speak, he can’t think, he can’t breathe, and before he knows it, he’s out.

#b99fandomevents #b99 summer 2021 fic exchange #b99 #the last ride #b99 fic #peraltiago #jake x amy #sleuth sisters #jake peralta #amy santiago #rosa diaz #maja writes

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