Chapter Text
Amy’s missed Jake in the six months he was gone. She missed his teasing of her need to iron her work blouses. She missed sharing private giggles over the strange perps that roam their beloved city. She’s even missed his sextape jokes.
She’d be lying if she says she doesn't think about what he said the night he disappeared into the darkness. It took a while for her mind to wrap around the fact that Jake has feelings for her, considering he always picked on and made fun of her. (And then it clicked.)
But she’d also be lying if she says the feeling is mutual.
She needs someone reliable, and understanding of her workload—not that Jake doesn’t possess those qualities. But Amy needs a man who respects her and shows it, who’s mature and expresses similar interests as her own. Teddy is that man. If anything, Jake’s admission invigorated her feelings for Teddy. She sees their relationship in a whole new light, and she spent the last six months focusing on work and Teddy. They grew closer when she proposed he start sleeping over at her apartment every few nights. He doesn’t hog the blanket and he never forgets to put down the toilet seat.
She’s happy with her other relationships at work. She and Rosa have an understanding that they have each other’s backs no matter what in the precinct filled with testosterone. Gina’s giving her make-up tips in exchange for self-defense lessons. Charles lets her have a sample of his lunch whenever they have their lunch breaks together. She’s even learning to speak her mind with the Captain.
(She still tags on disclaimers of disrespecting his decisions and authority at the end, but baby steps.)
She almost went insane running through things in her head, if it weren’t for the fact she consulted with Teddy. Yes, she told him about Jake. She really wants to make this work, and trust and honesty are the two most important in any relationship.
Amy is perfectly content with her life.
Until Jake approaches her at the bar tonight.
“I just don’t wanna hold anything back,” he finishes, his unusually deep voice making it hard for her not to squirm.
“Well, thank you for saying that,” she says, the tone of surprise she couldn't hold back the only tell to her thoughts. He nods firmly; once, and she hastens to add, “Just ask long as we’re clear that I’m with someone, and nothing is gonna happen.”
He nods again, more slowly this time, as if dejected. A pause. Then: “I’m With Someone, Nothing’s Gonna Happen—name of your sextape.”
Relief floods her as she exclaims proudly, “He’s back!”
After taking another sip of the cocktail in a lapse in judgement, she goes to the bathroom to rinse her mouth. It’s there that her phone pings the notification that someone’s texted her.
Hey Babe! On my way to the bar now. Xx
She smiles a closed-mouth smile. Last night she casually mentioned Jake coming back today and Teddy expressed eagerness to see him again after so long.
(“That Jake guy is cool. His jokes are a little out there, though. Don’t you think?”
“I don’t know. I like his jokes. I think they’re funny.”)
She goes to close the message, but the door slams somewhere outside of the ladies’ room, and her fingers slip on the screen, accidentally opening her texts with Jake.
25 cases solved while you were gone, Peralta.
Whatevs saved america in 6months for the fbi that's worth a hundred cases
It’s their first texts to each other in six months, and a laugh bubbles out of her mouth despite the familiar knot in her stomach at his text speak. She knows he does it just to annoy her now, and the perfectionist in her is thoroughly irritated, but another part of her is glad he’s still the same Jake she’s always known. She didn’t get to spend much time with him today, as he had been wrapping up the Lannucci case and she had been doing drills via the Captain’s orders.
Amy lets out a breath and combs her fingers through her hair, grimacing to her reflection at the tangles that tug at her roots.
I just don’t wanna hold anything back.
His words stir those same feelings and ideas of how her life is supposed to turn out, what she would like to see as her future. She and Teddy are good. But there’s been this niggling voice in her head today that that’s the problem. They’re not amazing; fantastic; (or, dare she say it) perfect. She can’t honestly use adjectives that don’t sound like a brush off when loud and rude Uncle Alejandro asks how life is treating her (good, fine, okay, sometimes even great).
During these past six months, never did she ever fight with Teddy. Never was there a spark of passion that made her simultaneously love him even when she hated him. They like the same things, and it had been so refreshing to go antique shopping on Sunday mornings, to call in saying she couldn’t make it because she was stuck on a case at work and if they could post-pone their dinner, only to hear that he’s doing the same. Amy feels like she’s dating a guy version of herself. It’s not as fun as she would have imagined. She’s trying to make it work, and it saddens her that she can’t see a future with Teddy, no matter how much she wants to.
When she brought him to meet her favourite brother over dinner one night, she had expected playful verbal jostling and cracks at their competence as detectives or a competition over who has the grossest arresting stories. Things she normally does with Ben. But everything was perfect. Ben was on his best behaviour, asking Teddy about his family and how much he enjoyed being a detective. At the end of the night, Ben kissed her on the cheek and whispered about how Teddy is a ‘nice guy’ and how happy he is for her, before ruffling her hair and taking off.
Sure, she is pleased that her boyfriend and brother get along, but there was a tiny nagging feeling in the back of her mind that something is missing. So tiny it was easy to push aside at the time. But the thing about ignoring small problems is that they sit there and fester, like a fungi on a tree. You’re blind to it as it grows and sucks at the nutrients at a steady pace. Until one day a strong breeze whips by and the frail tree breaks off at the roots.
There’s a knock on the door, and it almost startles Amy out of her skin. “Ames?”
Guilt splashes down on her like a bucket of cold water, trickling into her veins and spreading like a virus through her system. She hurries to the door and slaps on a bright smile. “Teddy!”
“Hey, Jake said you were in here." His gaze zips down her frame, a crease in his brow. "He also said that you must’ve fallen into the toilet bowl because you were gone so long. Are you okay?”
“I’m good.”
There’s that word again.
He leads her over to a table in the corner at which Jake is already sitting, three drinks on the table. Teddy steps back to allow her into the booth before he slides in next to her. “So Jake,” he begins, draping his arm behind her along the top of the booth. “Any good stories while you were away?”
Amy’s eyes seek Jake’s over the rim of her gin and tonic.
“There was a boxing match and one of the boxers was nicknamed ‘Pineapples’.”
She nearly snorts out her drink, laughter smothering the slight cough. “No way!”
Teddy smiles cluelessly. “I don’t get it.”
“That’s Jake’s nickname,” she explains merrily as Jake shakes his head, mirth brimming his brown eyes. “Everyone calls him that.”
“No one but you and my grandma calls me that,” Jake corrects.
“Aw, I’m the exception,” she teases.
Teddy grins, tugging gently on the ends of her hair. “You’re also adorable.”
She turns her head to smile shyly at him, and he leans forward to press a chaste kiss to her lips. Cheeks heating up, her shoulders hunch up in embarrassment of the PDA in front of a room full of her colleagues. Rolling her lips back, she’s almost reluctant to gauge Jake’s reaction, their conversation still fresh in her mind; aware of his feelings and unwilling to rub her relationship in his face.
He has a bottle of beer halfway to his lips when she looks over. There’s a flash of something in his eye, but then it’s gone when he presents her with a smile.
She smiles back, but she knows neither of them mean it.