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Jake had said that night at Shaw’s he could pinpoint the exact moment he knew he wanted to spend the rest of her life with her.
It wasn’t quite as straightforward for Amy. Not that she didn't want to marry him - the opposite, of anything - there were simply too many moments to choose from.
She had never put marriage or kids on the physical life calendar. It was too risky, too uncontrollable and had too elevated of a risk being broken. Thinking about spending her forever with someone had given her more than one panic attack before, and she wasn’t even excessively scared of commitment. She was purely... cautious. She was hesitant to be sure about a thing so definite as forever when death threats and time spent undercover seemed an unavoidable part of the career path she had chosen. And did she really want to settle down only because it was expected of her? No, marriage had been the last thing on her mind for so long the first time Amy thought about it, it shocked even her.
Jake had stayed over at her apartment countless times before. She was as used as she could be to waking up to the cutest of light snores and the ever impressive bedhead, and yet this time was special. He wasn’t staying over. He was home.
Yesterday had been a long day of unpacking boxes and laughing over the unreal absurdity of the fact that their possessions were now crammed into the same two-bedroom Brooklyn apartment. After a celebratory pizza dinner eaten straight from the box while they sat on the counter, complete with toasting in orange soda and wine respectively, they were officially living together. His sneakers were on her shoe rack, the skincare products she’d bought him for Christmas had taken place next to her own in the bathroom cabinets, and a single Die Hard poster adorned the inside of the closet where neatly ironed pantsuits and flannels now hung side by side. For the first time in her since-college life, Amy Santiago was living together with someone else.
Her waking up first was the norm rather than it was unusual. With Teddy she’d often found herself bored to death waiting for him to wake up, had even made a habit of going for a run in the morning so she wouldn’t have to lay there idly for at least an hour. She’d never needed an escape-plan with Jake. With him she could lay there for what felt like forever, listening to the sound of his breathing, smiling when she sometimes heard her own name mixed in with the incoherent mumbles he made in his sleep. She could admire the ruffled hair and the sight of him in either a baggy t-shirt or nothing at all, stare at him for exactly as long as she wanted without anyone asking what the hell she was doing, and after the six months they had spent apart earlier she never wanted to stop.
The bed was so much warmer with him in it, a godsend blessing to her always cold self. Moving closer to him so she could obtain more of the welcomed heat, she took the moment in act to press a few lazy kisses to the little dip in his shoulder.
“Mm-hmm”, he responded to this action, voice still heavy with sleep. “Morning, Ames.”
“Morning, Jake.”
“Time is it?”
“Half past eight.”
“S’early. “ He feigned annoyance, putting his right arm around her to draw her so close she was practically on top of him. “Need more sleep.”
“Jake, we shouldn’t waste a whole day because we have off. We should get up and eat breakfast.” An idea popped into her head. “I can make pancakes.”
“Oh, no .” The look on his face as she said this was one of genuine horror. “I’m not letting you almost burn down my kitchen again.”
“ My kitchen? Excuse me - since when is this your kitchen?”
“Since yesterday! And I’m not letting you set fire to it.”
“Okay, then.” She reluctantly moved to allow him the chance to get out of bed. “You’re in charge of pancakes.”
“For you and only for you, Amy Santiago.”
She helped set the table and make coffee while he whisked together the ready-made mix and flipped imperfect, but guaranteedly less burnt than hers would have been, pancakes. Maybe , Amy thought when they sat down to eat, the two of them could do this for a long time .
The m-word wasn’t yet explicitly on her mind. Somewhere in the background, though, she could feel it hiding.
It hid there as winter turned into spring and the cherry blossom trees in Central Park started blooming, as she booked the sergeant’s exam with shaking hands and created a notoriously detailed schedule to have time for studying, work and little bouts of free-time where she could get them.
It hid there when she and Jake babysat Terry’s kids and she listened to him try to explain racism to two four-year-olds without frightening them. When they left Terry’s house still chatting about what an exhausting but also rewarding of an experience babysitting had been, she had sworn she could feel the voice in her head change from kids are out of the picture to if I want kids, I want them with him .
It hid there when he found her on the rooftop of 397 Barton Street, convinced her to take the exam and promised of course things would change between them if she passed , but change wasn’t always a bad thing. She’d linked hands with him as they walked to his favourite ice cream place after the test to celebrate, thinking once again maybe they really were in this for good.
It hid there in the car at Flaxton Hill farms when she promised she would wait those fifteen years if she had to, would keep working and fighting and doing it all for him. It hid there when she gasped for breath after the jury declared him guilty and it hid there when the first visiting day finally came and she got to hug him and breathe in his scent for a few dreamlike seconds. It hid there when she finally calmed down after an hour-long panic attack in the car as they were about to leave, because Boyle didn’t know how to help her through them like Jake did and she needed Jake there with her , now and maybe even forever.
“I’m never letting you go again”, she whispered when he was finally filling up the space in their bed that had been empty for those eight, long weeks of prison.
“Good”, he whispered back, wrapping his arms around her waist and pulling her close, close until there was no space between them at all. “Because I’m not leaving.”
“Good. Because I don’t want you to.”
“I love you.” He kissed the top of her head, cupping her face with both his hands to look into her eyes. “So much. I missed you so much. And as much as I thought about sex with you while in prison, which I promise was loads and definitely more than I thought about the food I wished I was eating, I think I’m going to pass out if we don’t go to sleep now so it’s going to have to wait.”
“A true romantic.” She laughed and pressed a last kiss for the night to his lips before closing her eyes. “I’m just glad you’re here. There will be other nights.”
“So many other nights”, he agreed.
Maybe the rest of our lives , the voice in her head whispered. I really want it to be the rest of our lives.
“I think I want to marry him”, she admitted to her two year younger brother, Tony, in the end of a long phone call where he’d originally called her to get a big sister’s opinion on a girl he’d started seeing.
(“You’re good with love stuff”, he explained when she asked him why he was calling her for romantic advice. “How are things going with Jake, anyway?”)
“Well, maybe you should. You guys seem pretty solid.”
“He literally just got out of prison. I don’t think it’s the greatest time to propose.”
“You don’t have to do it now. But you could - I don’t know - set a date? Mark a random date a few months from now and decide if he hasn’t proposed by then, you’ll do it.”
“...Actually not a terrible idea.” She reached for her pen and notepad to scribble a date down, the first she remembered. 14th of January 2018 - the four year anniversary of their post-bet-date, exactly three months away. “Thanks. How… when did you get so supportive of me getting married, anyway?”
“Because I’ve only seen you with him once, but in all of the time I spent growing up with you I still don’t think I ever saw you so happy. Not even when you won your school’s Math competition in sixth grade or when you got into the academy.” He coughed, and although it wasn’t a video call she could swear he was blushing. “If you tell any of our other siblings I got all emotional on the phone with you - “
“I won’t, Tony. Promise.”
She folded the note carefully after drawing a heart around the date, then hid it in one of her old art history books where she knew Jake wouldn’t go looking.
Seventeen days later his proposal still took her entirely by surprise. It was all she’d ever dreamt of, butt-mentions and all, casually moving her to tears when Jake admitted planning the heist turned proposal was the one thing which truly kept him sane during prison.
“We’re getting married!” They repeated it to each other between kisses over and over while celebrating at Shaw’s, her strict rules about limited PDA becoming decreasingly strict the later it got and the more drinks she had.
“Everyone heard you the first time, you don’t have to keep repeating it”, said Rosa with a swig of her beer. Jake’s gaze didn’t stray from Amy’s as he answered.
“Too bad, because I’m never going to shut up about it.”
She tried out the words for the first time in her mind the next morning, whispering them over and over to herself.
Jake Peralta, my husband.
She loved the sound of them as much as she loved the sight of the gorgeous ring on her finger.
Even when all of her careful planning for the perfect wedding was shattered into smithereens by a bomb threat, the ceremony still ended up being the most wonderful memory of her life. It wasn’t even remotely close to what they’d planned, but it was beautiful and it was them and nothing could have made it more perfect.
“I can’t wait to spend the rest of my life with you”, she told him after her vows, meaning every word of it and more.
Had anyone told Amy back when she’d just started enjoying the company of her immature but entertaining deskmate she would be sliding a thin gold band onto his left ring finger one day, she wouldn’t have been able to stop laughing. Jake Peralta, growing up enough to want to settle down? Unlikely. Her, falling for the goofy grin that absolutely did not make her heart skip a beat sometimes? Not happening. The two of them becoming something other than two strictly professional colleagues who were both highly skilled at their profession? Never. Until they did.
She’d fallen for his ability to make her laugh, stumbled again for the unusual yet fascinating way his mind jumped to conclusions in its own way, and tumbled right down a rapidly descending hill for the way he showed he genuinely cared about her whether it was as a friend or as something more. And yes, fine, he was stupidly attractive as well. The smirk had done things to her from the start, but so had the soft brown eyes making her feel at home when she looked into them, so had the hands she kept imagining roaming her body whenever she let herself look at them for more than a split second.
Three years of being in a relationship with him had taught her not only an unreasonable amount of Die Hard facts and too many Taylor Swift lyrics for her liking, but also the charm of sometimes breaking rules and allowing things to be unpredictable. It had taught her even though they appeared so different, their competitiveness and passion made them strikingly similar when it came to the important things. He had grown up a little, learned how showing emotions didn’t equal death and preparing for things could be of great benefit sometimes. She had learned relaxing a little didn’t automatically lead to the worst outcome, and even if it did, he would be right there with her to handle the consequences.
(She had also learned Jake Peralta was a great kisser.)
(Great at other stuff, too.)
( God , she was lucky.)
How could she not want forever with that?
“Crazy to think the two of you are married”, said Rosa when they were all at Shaw’s after the ceremony, sipping the glass of whiskey she’d asked for after Amy insisted she would buy her a drink as a thank you for the bouquet and attempt at fixing the veil. “Gina and I were betting on how long you two would make it when you first got together, but neither of us thought you’d last more than a month.”
“Why not?”
“Felt unlikely, I guess. Never thought you’d date someone from work, or someone who wasn’t the single most boring man you could find. Kind of seemed to be your type for a while. But you surprised us all. Well done.” She raised his half-full glass to her friend’s champagne flute. “Jake’s earned himself one hell of a badass wife.”
“Wife. Sounds so official.” Amy faked a shudder. “No going back.”
“Not unless you get a divorce. Don’t get a divorce, please - Charles would probably kill himself”, her best friend and fellow sleuth sister added.
“I don’t think we’ll be needing one.” She looked over at her husband, perched on a barstool talking to Gina, warmth and affection emanating from the knowing smile he aimed at her upon meeting her gaze. “I haven’t gotten to say the words my husband nearly enough times yet.”
“God, you two are going to be so annoying from now on”, Rosa groaned.
They slept in late the next morning, feeling rather well-deserved of some rest after yesterday’s chaos.
“Hey.” She flinched awake at the sound of Jake’s voice, still raspy from sleep, next to her ear. “Morning, wife.”
“Morning, husband.” Saying the word sent a warm, tingling sensation through her body. “You woke up before me.”
“Not by a lot. It’s boring being awake without you.” He kissed her temple, once, twice. “Then again - every single day I get to be with you at all is crazy to me.”
“I recognize that. Is it a Harry Potter quote, by any chance?” She teased, dragging her left hand through his hair to draw him closer and kiss him, not even caring about morning breath when he was right there and real and her husband.
“For practically having made them up on the spot during our impromptu wedding outside a police precinct, I think my vows are actually better than a Harry Potter quote.”
“You think your wedding vows are better than ‘Happiness can be found even in the darkest of times, if one only remembers to turn on the light’?” Amy gasped, doing her best attempt at looking offended.
“I’m saying they’re up there, somewhere.” There was the goofy grin again, melting what little attitude she was trying to gather. “Also, you’re wrong about best Harry Potter quote. The best one is clearly ‘Do not pity the dead, pity the living, and above all those who live without love’.”
“Are you trying to seduce me with the help of Harry Potter quotes?”
“Is it working?” She kissed him again in response, with more passion and intensity now than the lazy kisses of before.
“I can’t believe my husband is a giant nerd.”
“Hey! That’s ‘giant nerd who read those books because his wife loves them so much’ to you, thank you.”
“I know. I love you.”
“Love you too.” He laced his left hand into hers, admiring the sight of their identical gold rings gleaming in the sunshine seeping through their blinds. “Ready for our first breakfast together as spouses, Mrs. Santiago-Peralta?”
“More than ready.”
Since Amy Santiago learned to read at a mere three and a half years of age, she’d gone through an extensive list of favorite words. Epiphany had been one of them, one of the first big words her father had taught her to pronounce. Serendipity, expectations, quintessential, oblivion - lengthy, sophisticated words to embellish written as well as spoken sentences.
Eating a fresh cream cheese bagel from the bakery down the street and drinking a scalding hot cappuccino from the same place with Jake trying his best to help her solve the Times crossword puzzle she hadn’t had the time for yesterday, she decided it was time to add a new one to the list.
Husband - defined by Oxford Dictionaries as a married man considered in relation to his spouse and defined by her as the word she could now use freely to describe the love of her life.
The prospect of forever had horrified her up until she started realizing she might actually want it with the man sitting across from her, chewing absentmindedly on the lid of a pen and making little progress with the puzzle he had offered his assistance with. Now, she felt like forever wouldn’t be nearly enough.