#fam this is probs incoherent and tbh idek what it is but we're rolling with it

[startofamoment]

please come in and just sit here for a while ♥

Jake’s laughing so hard, Amy’s sure he’s going to wheeze himself into a poorly-timed asthma attack. The last thing they need right now is to have to call for backup while he fumbles with his inhaler.

“Alright, alright,” she grumbles, her cheeks warm with embarrassment. “So a double date with a young Al Gore at the Louvre isn’t the most plausible. But you asked for my dream date– you didn’t specify it had to be realistic!”

He snorts, but she shoves him in the shoulder before he can devolve into another laughing fit.

“Aw, you gotta give yourself some credit, Santiago. A date like that could totally happen.” He pauses, amusement clear on his face. “Just remind me to tell your future boyfriend to invest in a time machine.”

He ducks before she can shove him again, and just like that he’s doubled over and full-on giggling once more.

“Like your dream date is any less ridiculous,” she huffs.

He swipes at his eyes and coughs, taking a moment to settle his breathing. “Oh, I’ll have you know my ideal date is plenty realistic but dare-I-say still very romantic? The Jake Peralta boyfriend experience is quite intoxicating, thank you very much.”

She raises an eyebrow but nods for him to go on. For sheer curiosity’s sake, if nothing else.

“I’m a simple guy. I don’t have to go to a fancy museum or whatnot to have a good time. All I need is a few fluffy blankets, chairs and stuff for structure, way too many pillows, maybe some of those fairy lights to set the mood… You following me here, Santiago? I’m talking me, my boo, and the most epic pillow fort you’ve ever seen. We’ll sneak a laptop computer into the fort and put Die Hard on, duh, and then it’ll be candy and cuddles from there on out.”

She hums, vaguely impressed but not at all ready to admit that that does sound like a respectable stay-at-home date idea. (She’s even further away from acknowledging that she maybe also thinks all of that with Jake specifically sounds more than ideal.) “Movie night in a pillow fort, huh? Never took you for someone into textbook rom com dates, Peralta.”

“Hey, I like cuddles and warm blankets! They make me feel safe,” he shrugs, then shifts to smirking and waggling his eyebrows at her. “Besides, a pillow fort is the perfect place for a good ol’ make out sesh. Seriously, by the end credits, my date and I would totally be–”

“Okay, I’m going to go ahead and stop you there before this gets wildly inappropriate. Still technically work hours, Romeo.”

He sends her another cheeky grin before raising his binoculars and redirecting his attention to the warehouse they’ve been monitoring. She refocuses as well, filing this new fact about her partner somewhere in the back of her head – to be compartmentalized and hopefully forgotten, along with her mental catalogues of Weirdly Cute Things Jake Has Done and Shirts Jake Has Worn That Make His Arms Look Good.

“Are your eyes covered?” She asks, glancing behind her to triple check before unlocking her apartment door. “No peeking until I say so, okay?”

Jake scoffs but keeps his hands over his eyes. “Ames, if this is your way of easing me into blindfolds and bondage, let me tell you–”

“Oh, hush. I told you, I just need to make sure everything’s ready.”

They step into her entryway, with Jake following closely behind her then staying put when she tells him to.

Amy makes quick work of depositing her bag and shoes in their designated places, hanging up her coat, and running to get the string of lights plugged in. (She’d made sure the whole setup was prepped even before going to bed the night before, but she’d intentionally left the fairy lights off lest she be schooled by fire marshal Boone of all people.)

She surveys her living room – or what used to be her living room and what now is an organized mess of sheets strewn over dining chairs and pillows lain on every available surface – one last time before taking a steadying breath and turning back to her boyfriend. “Okay, Jake, you can look now.”

He drops his hands to his sides, and Amy watches as his expression morphs from confusion to wonder.

“Oh my god. Is this– It’s– Holy shit, it’s a pillow fort!”

He sheds his jacket and toes his shoes off as fast as possible, tripping over his socked feet to scramble into the makeshift entrance, half-squealing and half-rambling like an excited child the whole way. Amy laughs, already starting to feel pleased with herself as she crawls in after him.

“Amy, this is amazing! Did you put all of this together on your own?” He’s beaming, eyes shining with unbridled joy. In the few seconds it’s taken her to settle in against a strategically-arranged pile of pillows, he’s managed to wrap himself up in one of the three fleece blankets she’d prepared for them to use. (She’s going to have to do so much laundry this weekend.)

“Mhm,” she nods, hoping she’s coming off cool when actually she’s buzzing with giddiness from the inside out. “Do you like it?”

“Like it? I love it!” He falls back onto the thick floral comforter lining the floor beneath them, closing his eyes and making a satisfied hum before looking at her again. “Not to be weird, but you are making teenage Jake so happy right now. Like, I for realz would spend hours trying to imagine how my fort would look like and this– yeah, this is pretty darn close. The only thing it needs is–”

“Snacks? Check under that couch cushion.” She smiles, pointing to the spot beside his arm.

He sits back up then lifts the pillow in question, gasping loudly. “Gummy bears? Fruit Roll-Ups? One, two, three… seven types of chocolate, and even the Mexican candy from the bodega near the precinct? Amy, I–” His face shifts to something between bewilderment and awe, sending another surge of nerves through her. “I don’t know what to say… This is literally my dream date. How did you know?”

“Well, it’s... kind of a weird story. You’re going to laugh.” She stops, looking down and tucking her hair behind her ears while she searches for the right words to say. She’d known, logically, that it was much more likely he’d forgotten about their random conversation way back when, but a part of her had just hoped he’d remember so she wouldn’t have to explain herself like this.

“Come on, Ames. I promise I won’t laugh,” he says gently, nudging her leg with his foot. “I swear I really only want to know how you somehow read my mind. I mean, I know my school counselor said I should’ve kept daily diaries back then but I absolutely did not, so there’s no way you broke into one of those. Did I drunkenly blurt out my mushy teenage fantasies at Shaw’s the other week?”

She shakes her head, fiddling with the hem on the nearest pillowcase. “Not last week or at Shaw’s. I don’t expect you to remember this because it was at a stakeout a few years ago, but we’d talked about our ideal dates and you’d mentioned movie night in a pillow fort, so…” Her voice trails off as she digs underneath yet another blanket for her laptop and DVD copy of Die Hard.

She almost cringes when he doesn’t respond immediately, and it takes all her courage to get herself to look up from the loading screen.

He’s got that boyish grin on his face, of course. (It’s not fair that she still finds him ridiculously attractive, even when he’s obviously over the moon at her expense.)  

“You said you wouldn’t laugh,” she says, pouting.

“I’m not! I’m just–” His grin widens into a smirk. “ So, so glad I finally have proof you’ve liked me for ages. Wow, Ames. You’ve been holding onto this piece of info for years, just waiting until you could finally put it to use, huh? That had to have been at least three years ago by now, right? Gosh, Amy, I had no idea–”

“Shut up and eat your candy,” she grumbles, throwing a packet of fruit leather his way.

He snickers but doesn’t say anything more as he tears into the plastic and bites into the chewy candy. The tips of her ears burn just the same, with her lack of an outright denial loud and clear in the air between them.

“It’s okay, babe,” he says brightly, laying a sticky kiss on her flushed cheek. (The brand new pet name isn’t lost on her at all, but she’ll unpack her feelings about that another time.) “I’ve most definitely liked you for way too long, so at least we’re even.”