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“Hey captain, can I talk to you for a second?” The detective, already with one foot in his boss’s office, appeared in Holt’s line of vision.
“Peralta, come in. Close the door.” He put his pen down and took his reading glasses off, folding them neatly and placing them on top of the folder he had been writing in.
“Sooo,” Jake began, drawing out the word as he tried to sort out what he wanted to say. “you know, Amy and I are getting married.”
“I was aware.”
“Yeah, so, Amy’s dad is walking her down the aisle and everything. Very cool. Cool stuff.”
Holt folded his hands together, watching and listening patiently. He was used to Jake’s blabbering when he was nervous and knew to simply wait it out. He’d get there.
“I was thinking that maybe I’d want to do that too.”
“You want to be walked down the aisle by your father?”
“Yes?” It was a question more than it was a response. Holt narrowed his eyes but didn’t say anything; he quietly waited for Jake to gather to courage to continue. Which he did. “But my dad is, well, I don’t know. Do you know where I’m going with this? Do you catch my drift?” He tried to pass it off as a joke, but Holt didn’t smile. Not that Jake expected him to, because really, that would be weird.
“What do you need, Peralta?” Holt asked, encouragingly.
Finally, he blurted it out, “I’d like you to walk me down the aisle.”
Holt raised his eyebrows. The most expressive face he’d made all day, probably, and leaned forward, “You want me? To walk you down the aisle?”
“Yeah, is that weird? I don’t have the healthiest idea of male role models, as you probably know.” He grinned.
Something in Holt’s face told Jake that had he been a normal human being, he would have smiled at that moment. “Jake, I would be honoured to walk you down the aisle.”
“Really?” The detective’s face lit up in boyish delight.
“Of course. You are like the son I never had. Or wanted.” He seemed content with himself for having made a joke, but Jake was too excited to notice.
“You’re walking me down the aisle? No takebacks. I’m going to tell Amy.” Before he dashed out the door, he stopped to say, “Thank you, sir.” In that soft and serious voice that detective Jake Peralta, renowned goof, reserved only for very rare and special occasions.
“My pleasure.”
Through the windows of his office Captain Holt watched the detectives in the bullpit break into smiles.