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Amy taps her pen against her desk, staring unblinkingly in the direction of the evidence locker.
Jake, her partner over the past year, is not exactly the most reliable when it comes to paperwork in the sense that he hardly ever does it, and on the miracle occasion that he actually does do it, it’s sloppy, and the handwriting is so messy that it almost gives Amy a migraine. Their captain, McGlintly, doesn’t really care about Jake’s work ethic (or lack thereof), which means Amy is always the one who ends up redoing the paperwork on Jake’s behalf.
So yeah, Amy, a perfectionist if there ever was one, isn’t exactly Jake’s biggest fan. It’s not like he isn’t smart, or a good cop, on the contrary, he’s almost as good as a detective as Amy herself (though he claims he’s better), he just has a disdain for acting in anyway mature.
But today, today he’d promised her, sworn on Bruce Willis’ life that he would do the paperwork on the case they’d just closed, and he would do it properly (or as he put it, ‘Santiago Stylez’).
He’d promise her, and yet he’d disappeared into the evidence locker seven and half minutes ago to talk to someone on the phone.
Angrily, she pushes her chair back with her feet so that it makes an unpleasant scraping sound against the floor and Boyle lets out a yelp, covering his ears. Amy rolls her eyes at him, as she storms into the evidence lock up.
“Peralta, whatever the hell you’re doing stop it, and get your god damn butt back to your desk and do the paperwork!” She yells, slamming the door open.
Jake, who has his back to her, is almost cowering. He nods. “Yeah, sorry,” comes his voice, but it’s not goofy and confident, it’s cracked and strained.
“Jake?” she says uncertainly. “Are you okay?” she steps towards him hesitantly. She’s never seen this vulnerable side to him; it’s almost unnerving.
“Yeah, I’m fine. I’ll go do that paperwork,” he replies stiffly, turning around and pushing past her, avoiding eye contact.
His face is flushed, and tear tracks glint in the dull light of the evidence lock up; her breath catching in her throat, she reaches out for his arm and grabs him gently, turning him towards her. “Jake, what’s wrong?” she asks, her own voice cracking now.
He gulps, looking at her with tear filled eyes, before looking away again.
“Jake, you can talk to me, please,” she murmurs, tugging ever so slightly on his arm. His face crumples suddenly, and before she knows it Jake Peralta is sobbing into her shoulder. She stands frozen for a moment, in shock, before she wraps her arms around him, hugging him tightly. “Hey, it’s okay,” she tells him in a trembling voice, “it’s okay.”
He pulls away from her after a moment. “Sorry,” he mutters, wiping his eyes, “my, uh, my Nana died. That was my mom on the phone. She went over to check on her, and she was just… dead.”
“Oh, Jake, I’m so sorry,” Amy tells him sincerely.
“I gotta, um, I gotta tell Gina, we— Nana looked after us a lot when we were younger,” Jake explains.
Amy nods, and wipes some of the tears off Jake’s cheeks gently. “Do you want me to tell her for you… or with you?”
Jake shakes his head. “It’s okay, but thanks, A— Ames,” it occurs to her later that he’s hardly ever even called her ‘Amy’, let alone ‘Ames’.
“Well, if there’s anything I can do, just let me know, okay?”
He nods, and smiles. “Yeah, I will, thank you,”
She hugs him again. “I’ll go do that paperwork,” she says as she leaves the evidence lock up.
She sits at her desk with her back to Gina’s, but she hears the whole conversation. Jake’s soft murmuring, and his fingers drumming nervously on the side of Gina’s desk; Gina’s little gasp of shock, and the crack in her voice.
“Ames,” Jake’s voice comes from over her shoulder, and she turns, “Gina and I are gonna go… help Mom with stuff, if McGlintly asks…”
“I’ll make something up,” Amy finishes for him.
“Thanks, I’ll see you later,” he says, and it’s a testament to the sombre occasion that Gina doesn’t poke fun at him for calling her ‘Ames’.
She doesn’t really know why she’s going. She’s only been to Jake’s place on one occasion and his place was so messy it almost gave her a brain aneurysm. But it had unnerved her before, seeing Jake so vulnerable, and she couldn’t just let him sit at home by himself.
She knocks on the door with one hand, the other clasping a six pack she’d just bought.
Jake answers, wearing a hoodie and boxer shorts, his hair messy.
They share a look, neither knowing what to say for a moment. This is all uncharted territory for them.
“Ame— Ames,” Jake finally stutters.
She lifts the beer up. “I thought you could use some company and beer.”
He smiles at her. “You thought right.” he steps aside to let her in and she walks past him. It’s then that he remembers he isn’t wearing pants and quickly dashes for the first pair of sweats laying on his floor and pulls them on.
Amy stands awkwardly by the couch, unsure whether or not to sit, she looks around at Jake’s apartment — the strewn magazines, clothes, plates, and other assorted objects. In any other situation Amy wouldn't be able to hold herself back from lecturing Jake about the state of his apartment.
“Sorry it’s a bit, um, messy,” he chuckles at the understatement as he walks over to Amy.
“It’s okay, you don’t need to…” she trails off, gesturing with her hand.
“You can sit,” Jake says, sitting down, “the couch doesn’t bite.”
“Right, of course,” Amy laughs, though it comes sounding forced, as she sits on the opposite end.
They sit in silence for a moment, once again the obviousness of this unexplored part of their relationship settling over them.
“Beer?” Amy offers rather loudly.
Jake nods eagerly and Amy hands him one, taking one for herself.
“So… how are you?” Amy starts as they open their beers, and Jake takes a sip.
He shrugs. “I dunno, it’s weird, like, I keep trying to remember what I said to her last, and I think it was just ‘bye’, and then I left, and that was it.” he pauses and looks over at Amy. “Like it was just a normal day, but it wasn’t.”
“You couldn’t have known, Jake,”
“I know that, I know, but…” he pauses and smiles, “ she was this incredible woman, like I mean, just amazing. I never even imagined her dying. It’s not like I never thought she’d die, I just never thought about it, she just seemed invincible.”
Amy smiles at this and nods. It’s something Jake and his Nana have in common.
Jake’s smile fades and he takes another drink of his beer. “I’ve never seen Gina so… silent. She just didn’t have anything to say.”
Amy doesn’t know how to reply to this. Jake knows Gina better than anyone. “People… people just process grief in different ways.” she says finally.
Jake is silent for a moment, drinking his beer. “When we were seven, she was supposed to take us to school but instead she took us to the mall.” he smiles. “And we saw three different movies that day. We ate so much at the food court, and tried on all these ridiculous outfits in the stores. We drop Gina home, and she’s driving to my house, and she tells me that no matter what happens it’s important to remember how much fun we had today. Then we get home and Mom tells me that Dad’s left for good this time.” Jake doesn’t look at Amy, staring at the wall ahead of him.
“Jesus, Jake,” Amy finally murmurs, but Jake smiles and shakes his head, turning to look at Amy.
“She never focused on the negatives. Ever. Her motto in life was ‘To have fun and be fabulous’.” Jake says and Amy laughs. “That’s what she always told us.”
“I think I get you and Gina a little more now,” Amy says with a smile, and Jake nods, laughing.
“The Fun and the Fabulous.”
Amy snorts, almost spilling her beer. “The Fun and the Fabulous.”
Grinning, Jake raises his drink. “To the Fun and the Fabulous.”
Amy raises hers too. “And may we never forget them.”
They cheers and drink, smiling at each other.
They talk and laugh and drink well into the night, Jake telling Amy every Nana story he can remember.
At some point they both fall asleep, and Amy awakes on his couch, a crick in her neck. She checks her watch: 4:06AM . Jake is lying at the other end of the couch, snoring gently, his legs entangled with Amy’s. She untangles their legs carefully, not wanting to wake him; she retrieves the duvet from his bed and drapes it over him.
She watches him sleeping for a moment before she leaves, not in a creepy way, just admiring how peaceful he looks.
That morning she wakes up to a text from Jake.
thank u for coming over last night, it was really nice
She smiles at it before typing back: What are friends for.
On the other end Jake smiles at this. He’s not sure either of them have ever admitted being friends before, and as annoying as Amy is, he doesn’t mind the label at all.