Chapter Text
99th PRECINCT, NYC
2 PM
"You think you'll be up for it, Peralta?"
Jake looks at Holt with a comically offended expression. "I can't believe you would doubt your finest detective like that, sir. If anything, you should ask Santiago, if -"
"Hey!" Amy cries, shoving him just a little, not too much, having midway realised that they were in front of Captain Holt, and what would he think of her if she got riled up so easily in the face of stressful situations? She immediately composes herself, clearing her throat and clasping her hands in front, 'business!!' written all over her face.
Said Stressful Situation a.k.a. Jacob Peralta continues without paying any attention to Amy's attempts towards professionalism, "- I mean, she still might be in grieving after she was late to your house for dinner-"
Amy bites the inside of her cheek. He was treading dangerous waters now. Why did he have to remind her? She was almost over it!
Holt pays no attention to the - what he would have labeled 'melodrama' - unfolding before him. Or maybe he did - who could tell with Captain Holt? Certainly not Amy - but boy, was she trying hard. Unfortunately, this was one field in which Jake seemed to have much more success than her - a fact that gnawed at her constantly. Right now, he seems to have sensed that Captain Holt was bored/tired/angry/annoyed/sad and stops speaking abruptly.
"Thank you," Holt says. "As I was saying, Peralta, you've had a rough couple of months-"
"I'm absolutely fine, sir! Better than ever! I have never been stronger! I could take down a skyscraper full of terrorists on my own-"
This time, Amy can read the quite blatant exasperation on Holt's face. She herself cannot stop a groan from escaping. Jake, satisfied at successfully infuriating the two most rigid people at the Nine-Nine, relaxes back into his chair. His job here is done.
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SQUAD CAR
EN ROUTE TO BEDFORD, PENNSYLVANIA
4 PM
"I can't believe Holt is still pissed at me for the whole Kevin-finding-out-Holt-was-stabbed situation," Jake complains, fiddling with the radio controls.
Amy frowns at him. "What? No way. Come on, Holt isn't the type to hold a grudge-"
"Ahem, 6 letters - W U N T C H -"
Amy ignores him, beating away his hand from the dashboard "Don't change it - I like this song! I think Holt was genuinely worried about you."
"Wow, Santiago, never took you for a Backstreet Boys kinda girl! Then, why would he try to keep me off the case? A case, which was one of the greatest solves of my life!"
"Our lives." Amy corrects, warily watching his hand hover near the radio again. "I grew up in the 90s, obviously I like the Backstreet Boys! And Holt is not trying to keep you off the case, Jake! He was looking out for you!"
Jake scoffs. "First of all, aren't you an 80s' kid? And Two, I am fine. He's making a bid deal out of nothing".
Amy purses her lips at the use of a 'first' followed by a 'two'. Jake has a pathological knack of bending the rules as he pleases. "Well, I was a teenager in the 90s, that's what I meant, and Holt is right, Jake. You've been through quite a bit this year." Her voice softens at the end.
Jake sniggers, rather louder than necessary for two able-eared people in a small car. "Amy as a teenager?!?!! LOL. I think you popped out of the womb as a doily-covered old lady!"
Amy bites back a sharp retort. She knows what Jake is doing- deflecting any serious talk and repressing all emotions. Normally, she'd give in and continue their flippant banter, but something stops her this time. She stands her ground.
"Holt is concerned about you, Jake. No offense, but you do have a tendency to- "
"Hello, I am very offended!" He pouts, quite like a petulant child.
Amy rolls her eyes."I didn't even say anything yet!"
Jake clenches his fingers. "I know what you're going to say! It's all anyone will ever say to me nowadays! 'Jake, you got hit by a car and now every time you laugh your left side will hurt, what a sad life! Jake, your dad let you down, again! Jake, Jenny Gildenhorn ditched you for another guy- again! Jake, you were kidnapped and almost killed by your ex- girlfriend's boss! Also, said ex- girlfriend brutally dumped you, after you told her you loved her! On top of that, Jake, you still can't get over ' -"
He breaks off suddenly, out of breath and gasping. His face has turned red. Amy has a feeling that if she could see his eyes, they would be glistening.
Her heart breaks a little at seeing him like this. Jake always put up a confident, joyful demeanor, no matter the circumstance. Sure, this was annoying when they were trying to discuss something serious, but Amy couldn't deny that he was the best at cheering her up, and despite herself, she was rather fond of being around him. He made the mood lighter, the air clearer, wherever he was. Watching him this way shakes her to her very core.
She takes one hand off the steering wheel and tentatively places it on his arm, squeezing lightly. She was never one to be good with words, or feelings, for that matter, so she doesn't say anything, silently hoping he understands what she was trying to tell him.
He starts a bit at her touch, looking down first at her hand on his arm and then at her face. He smiles a tiny little smile before going back to fiddle with the radio.
This time Amy doesn't stop him. She never liked Xtina anyway.
________________________
7:30 PM
OUTSIDE POLICE STATION, BEDFORD
"....about only 100 people living here. We can just line them all up and find the murderer in an hour!" Jake whispers to her as they unbuckle their seatbelts and make their way to the tiny police station.
"The population is actually 2721, so that's not very feasible- Also, who said the murderer was someone from town?"
"Who said they aren't?"
"Such a small town, things get around. It would have been solved easily- it would have never reached this high up."
"Even though the murder was so weird and specific? The M.O. is exactly like our Branson case from 2011! It seems like some bored small-town weirdo is a copycat!"
Amy thinks back to that case, one of the greatest cases she'd ever worked on. The serial murders had started upstate and worked their way to the city - six precincts and Major Crimes were working it simultaneously, and it had been Santiago and Peralta, two junior detectives from the 99 who finally cracked it and found the murderer. Amy had been thrilled when they got accolades from the Mayor, Jake had been exhilarated to see their names in the newspaper. The actual perp was still in prison, but the death of the young girl in Bedford followed the exact same pattern as the 2011 murders, and Jake and Amy - 'stars of solving weird murders' as Jake called them - were called to the scene.
"I'm telling you, it would have been much easier if the perp was from town. Anyway, the town is going to milk the 'crazy unsolved murder mystery' for years, to get publicity. I'm not sure how interested they are in solving it. Oh, here's Sheriff Warbleson - be nice!"
Alfred Warbleson is a thin, wiry man, with a paunch that seems disproportionate to his gangly limbs. His unwrinkled face is a stark contrast to his balding head. He is also quite racist, possibly sexist - Amy isn't surprised. The town was 99% Caucasian and likely still existing in the 1950s. Still, it stings when he directs most of his greetings and questions to Jake - occassionally sparing her a curious glance.
"...and Detective Santiago-" Jake says, emphatically, "- solved a similar case in 2011, so we're kind of, like, experts on weird murders."
"Mm-hmm," Warbleson nods, giving Amy an onceover. She wants to pull a face, maybe flip him off, but she forces herself to keep her cool.
"We hope we can help you get to the bottom of this as soon as possible," She says, professional as always. "Do we go visit the scene now, or-"
"Now? It's 8 o'clock, ma'am!" He laughs, an ugly laugh, and gives Jake a look, like 'did you hear what she said?' Jake, to his credit, doesn't respond at all; just stares back unflinchingly - but to be fair, Amy never expected anything less from him.
Warbleson shrugs. "I'll see you at 8, maybe 9 tomorrow. G'night, folks!" He walks off, scratching his armpit as he goes.
Amy makes a face at his back.
"What an asshole, right?" Jake mutters, incredulously.
Amy sighs. One of many. She's met too many misogynistic and lazy cops to be surprised by this. She is suddenly gripped by a wave of gratitude for her Nine-Nine colleagues, some of the best cops, and people around.
She wraps her arms around herself. "Let's just get to the hotel. Maybe it'll be better in the morning."
_______________________________
9 PM
M TEL MAG IF C TÉ
She thinks it'll be better in the morning, but they still have to get through the night.
Amy stares at the half broken neon sign that signals their arrival at 'Bedford's Best Beds!'
Bedford must have a very low standard for beds, she decides, taking a disdainful glance at the dusty two storey before her. Thank God she's brought her antibacterial wipes - not that she'd leave her house without them!
Jake notices her look of mild disgust and huffs out a laugh.
"Almost 5 star, eh? Puts the Four Seasons to shame!"
The teenager manning the Magnificenté (what kind of fake fancyass name is that?) reception holds a cigarette in between her lips, a cellphone in one hand and a half- eaten candy bar in the other. The smoke wafts towards them and Amy itches to ask her for a smoke - but she's trying to quit, and has cleaned out her purse three weeks ago. But she still has her emergency stash at the precinct, and at her gym, and in her car, and her apartment, of course...
She wishes she'd picked up a pack at the gas station, from where they bought their miserable dinner of bread and cheese slices - that they had fashioned into half- decent sandwiches in the car, and washed down with cheap beer. Neither of them are ones for cooking. Amy had tried not to comment on Jake's choice of toppings: mayo, honey mustard, and Tabasco sauce. Ew.
"Hmmm?" the girl mumbles, looking down at her desk to find a place to keep the candy bar on the dusty, grimy surface. It takes her a minute to realise that she could put her phone down instead. Amy takes the opportunity to breathe in the second- hand smoke. She absolutely loathes the smell, but craves the nicotine. Jake steps back a bit, wrinkling his nose.
"Hi." She holds the cigarette in her phone free hand, and looks up at them expectantly.
"Hi, can I steal a drag?" Amy thinks.
"Hi, we called ahead a couple hours ago, booked two rooms...?" Amy says.
"Did you? Dunno, my shift starts at 8."
"It must be in your database - or atleast written down somewhere." The desktop looks ancient.
"I don't know, actually." She drops her voice and leans in. "It's my sister's job, she asked me to cover cuz her boyfriend's comin' home tonight. From college", she adds, clearly proud of having a sister with a boyfriend in college.
Amy balls up her hands. "Well, why don't you give the person who took the earlier shift a call, and ask-" she says through gritted teeth.
Jake intervenes, lightly touching Amy's fist. "Do you have two empty rooms that we could book for the next couple of nights? That's all we need right now."
She turns her attention to him, and gives him a long stare- it's almost a gawk. She seems to like what she sees, because she gives him a quick smile, one that makes her seem years younger - and probably closer to her real age-
"Two rooms, huh?" She asks, looking slowly at Jake, then at Amy.
"Two rooms," Amy barks, giving her a tight- lipped smile.
27 minutes later, Jake and Amy are standing outside their respective doors. The girl- Jenna- had taken her own sweet time, finding keys and writing down their names and addresses in a grubby register. When she finally held out the keys, Amy had basically yanked them from her hand. They were on the second floor - Amy refused to sleep so close to the road and the ground.
"So...goodnight." Jake said, shoving his hands into his pockets.
"Yeah, g'night..." Amy mutters. She isn't looking forward to what most likely will be a troubled sleep.
He nods at her, and enters his room. Amy is left alone on the verandah, cold and antsy.
She dumps her backpack and duffel on the queen sized bed, trying to ignore the stained white sheets and dirty carpeting. She can get through only 70% of her brush routine. She looks at the rusty showerhead and contemplates taking a shower- wondering whether to forgo one in favour of a wake-up shower in the morning.
She is exhausted, but sleep evades her.
Knock Knock
Amy jumps up, hand immediately going to her left hip where her holster usually lies.
"Amy? Ames? Are you asleep yet?"
The sound of Jake's voice brings her back into action, and she throws open the door. The resulting creak makes them both wince.
"There's no running water in my room, and I suppose I could just ask for another room, but..."
He trails off, looking at her pleadingly. But this is a remarkably sub par establishment with horrible service and appalling hygiene issues is left unsaid.
"Yeah, of course, c'mon."
She wasn't getting any sleep anyway.
She's inspecting the bed, taking off covers and hitting the pillows to get the dust out, when he comes back out. He chuckles at the sight. "Awww, Amy, what did that pillow ever do to you?"
"Make more jokes, Peralta and you'll get the same treatment." She mutters.
"Maybe I'd like that." He quips.
Amy spins around to look at him just as he realises what he's said - and implied. "I mean-" he stutters, " -I don't-"
A year or two ago, such a statement by Jake would've been met by a scathing look from Amy and tittered laughs from any surrounding audience. Jake would be wearing a smug grin, hands on hip, air of confidence.
But now, things were kinda weird between them.
The fact that they had both liked-liked each other at some point in time that did not coincide - was out in the open.
They'd had a strange but flirty moment at their weird friends' parents' wedding.
Both of them were single now, yet both made a big show of how 'over' they were each other, anytime anyone (usually Boyle) insinuated anything different.
Amy raises her eyebrows. A good half minute has passed. "Let's see what you say when I'm done with you." She swallows and tries to look unconcerned, telling herself the ball's in his court now - (Her reply sounds awkward and weirdly sexual- but any reply she could think of, sounded sexual!! She just went with the first words that popped into her brain.)
"Title of your sex tape?" Jake ventures. And just like that, the spell is broken. She gives him the Santiago special eyeroll and he responds with the trademark Peralta shit-eating grin.
"So, I'll see you tomorrow..." He turns to open the door.
"Hey, do you want to watch a movie or something?" Amy asks, hoping she doesnt sound too desperate.
She's been living on her own for many years now, but being alone in a strange room in a strange town is pushing her towards the edge. And Jake's company may be annoying but it is warm and soothing and fun and actually not that annoying at all.
Jake turns, eyebrows raised. Amy hopes he doesn't question it too much. He doesn't.
He throws his bundled up clothes onto a very dusty side table (Amy cringes) and throws himself onto Amy's very neatly, very recently made bed. She groans. Jake doesn't listen, he's busy stretching his body towards the remote on the end table. He's balanced precariously, one more inch and he WILL fall. Amy teeters between wanting to watch him fall and wanting to just turn the damn TV on!! She supposes she could just get up and get the remote herself, but her eyes are glued to Jake.
"AHA!" he cheers, having reached the remote, touching it with the tips of his fingers. He lunges for it, but it falls to the floor. He moans.
Amy smirks. "I'm going to take a shower."
She feels weird, not wearing a bra in front of him, but the cardigan she has on doesn't make the fact too obvious, or so she comforts herself. That being said, the heating in the room is crap, and the sweater is not thick enough for Santiago level warmth.
She walks back into the room, shivering. Jake is leaning against the headboard, watching -
"Tom and Jerry?!" Amy laughs as she collapses onto the bed next to him.
"There are 3 working channels, and your choices are : Tom and Jerry, Keeping up with the Kardashians, or the Exorcist."
"Aww, I was hoping for Die Hard!" Amy exclaims, watching Jake carefully, with a sly grin.
He turns his head so fast, he cricks his neck. The expression on his face is of pure, unbridled elation, like he's found out his birthday's coming a few months early.
"Ames!? Oh my God, I did not know you liked Die Hard-"
She can't take it anymore, his childlike enthusiasm is so dang adorable. She bursts into laughter and slowly the smile is wiped off his face, as he realises what she's done. "Cruel woman," he mutters, staring at the TV.
Amy cannot take the cold in the air anymore- she buries herself inside the bed covers. "Oh, are you going to sleep?" Jake asks, surprised.
"No, no, it's just so cold out here!"
Jake gives her a wicked smile and slowly starts tugging on the sheets covering her. She doesn't notice until a draft of cold air hits her ankle - "Jake! Stop!" She cries, pulling the sheets back. He laughs and lets go, and the inertia causes her to fall back onto her pillow with a thump, making him laugh louder. "That's for Die Hard," he declares.
They hardly watch any TV though - chattering away about their case. Tom and Jerry is good background noise. Jake is too scared of the Exorcist, something which Amy will make fun of him forever, and neither of them are ready to admit that they sometimes maybe kinda sorta watch 'Keeping Up' as a guilty pleasure. At one point Jake pulls the sheets over his legs, so he's sitting up with the blankets pooled around his waist. Amy's lying down, only her eyes visible over the sheets. After the shop talk is done, they trade insults and jokes back and forth even as their eyes are shutting, speaking through yawns. More than once, one of them suggests that Jake go back to his room, but then they find something else to talk about, and on it goes.
Amy wakes up in the middle of the night, her throat dry. She is negotiating the pros and cons of getting out of the strangely but deliciously warm bed, when she she starts wondering how the bed got so warm in the first place.
"Oh!"
Jake is sleeping next to her, flat on his back, mouth slightly open, one arm flailed out wide over her pillow. He looks years younger, and so innocent. Amy's mind flashes back to the conversation in the car and how devastated he looked then.
He looks so much more peaceful now. Amy wonders what he's dreaming about. A tiny part of her wonders if he's dreaming about her.
It's then when it hits her : Peralta is in my bed?!
All thoughts of water forgotten, she lays back down, careful not to touch his arm on the pillow, and stares up at the ceiling. She prays it won't be weird in the morning.
Their relationship has already been through more than they deserved.
She falls asleep soon enough, basking in the heat he radiates, fighting her desire to go closer.
Jake also wakes up in the middle of the night. It takes him a while to realise why his body is betraying him like this, by waking up at such unearthly hours.That's when he notices the small, cold figure buried into his side, one leg on top of his and one arm over his tummy.
Jake can feel himself blush. Many- a- times has he hoped for this, dreamed of this. Of course, in his dreams, Amy knows she's cuddling with him, and preferably it's a post sex cuddle, when both of them are naked and happy, but a random romantic cuddle also sounds good. Really, really good.
Dammit, he's not over her.
Now, he's sure Amy's just drawn to his warmth, like a moth to flame. He sighs and makes one of the hardest decisions of his life. He knows if Amy wakes up and finds them in this position, she would get all awkward and it would be weird again. He just wants things to he normal between them- so many things have gone wrong for him recently, and Amy's always been there, like an angel. He cannot risk losing that.
He slowly picks up her arm and places it back next to her. He turns so he's on his side, facing away from her. He leaves her leg be. Maybe the poor girl does need some heat. He wouldn't want her to get hypothermia, because he was useless in all things health related and would probably have to watch her die in his arms, and that's another way to make a relationship awkward, right?
Also maybe, just maybe, he's enjoying her touch just as much as she's enjoying his.
They don't wake up until Amy's alarm startles them awake at 7:30.
_______________________
MEANWHILE IN BROOKLYN:
Gina: Hey, Terry! What do you bet Jake and that other girl will sleep together on their cozy little vacation? 500 dollars that they def will!
Terry: Amy. Her name is Amy. You've worked with her for 4 years! It's not a vacation, Gina, they're going for police work.
Charles: Oh, are you talking about Jake and Amy? God, won't they make the cutest couple? I can imagine their wedding - not too grand or flashy, a medium sized affair, with -
Rosa shuts him up with a flying pen to his face and then goes back to her paperwork.
Gina: Well, I can guarantee some kissing- 100 dollars for that- , can definitely can predict the angst - no money for that, it's old now. If Santiago keeps her head on straight, they might go all the way-
Charles: sighs, like an Victorian maiden, clasping his hands in front if his chest and looking up at the ceiling.
Rosa (without looking up) : I just hope they get it over with. The tension is getting too much. I can't deal with the drama.
Gina, incredulously: Bitch, you call this drama? Let me tell you about my 6th fiancé -