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“Babe?” Jake asks her that night in bed, the moment she’s finished the crossword.
“Babe,” says Amy, replacing the pen lid and turning to him with a smug glow in her eyes he has really, really missed.
“Was he really bad?”
She cocks her head, which is adorable, and purses her lips, which is cute, and makes a little hmm noise he’s like 85% certain she doesn’t know she makes.
“Are you thinking about it because you can’t decide whether he was really bad or not?” he asks, because he kinda likes asking questions he already knows the answer to, that’s a thing he does now. Probably Kevin’s fault.
“I’m thinking about it,” she replies, slowly, “because it’s kinda difficult to find the words to explain how really really bad he was.”
“Cool,” says Jake, not meaning cool at all, “cool cool cool cool cool.”
“Like, so bad.”
“Yeah?”
She looks at him for a few seconds with an expression that means so, so bad, then leans in for a kiss.
Oh man, he’s missed kissing Amy.
“One time,” she tells him, pulling away from the kiss to say it, “a guy came into the precinct to report a missing wallet, and his name was Kevin–”
“Damn.” He shouldn't interrupt, but he's already kinda seeing where it’s going.
“Yeah,” she agrees, grimacing. “Rosa called him over, and the Captain came running out, and when he realised it was just some guy called Kevin he put her on filing duty and told the poor guy to stop wasting police time.”
“Damn,” says Jake.
“Uh-huh.”
“One time,” he says, “After I made him watch Face/Off, Kevin taught me this whole poem, but it was in Old English–” Ames makes a fun little strangled screaming noise in the back of her throat. He’s pretty sure that means she’s jealous– “which is basically not even English. More like German. It was about… missing your husband, I guess. I only remember wa bith tham the sceal of langoth leofes abidan, because he said it meant, like, how sad it is to sit around waiting, missing someone you love.”
Amy’s eyes crinkle up. It's hot. He loves her so much.
“Missed you too,” she says, wearing her crossword-finishing face.
Which he likes, like a lot, but which is inappropriate. “Hey,” he protests, indignant, “I didn’t say anything. You said it first.”
“Yeah? ‘Cause you remembered the part of the poem about missing someone.”
“Oh, no, Ames, it was all about missing your husband. It was actually really sad. I just remembered the bit about sitting around.”
“Do you think Captain Holt knows?”
“What, that Kevin missed him?”
Amy looks distant, and her voice is weirdly floaty when she speaks. “After a few weeks, he wouldn’t even look at anyone in a bow tie.”
“Were there... many people in bow ties?"
"Too many."
"Huh." He casts about for something correspondingly odd. "Every time I got Kevin to quote one of the Nic Cage films he’d close his eyes and say I’m so sorry, Raymond.”
“I don’t think the Captain was sleeping, towards the end. You should’ve seen the bags under his eyes.”
“Yikes. Explains why he was going so crazy.”
“Well, I think he was going crazy because he was worried, Jake,” she counters, lips pursing again. She’s so defensive of Holt. It’s amazing. She’s amazing.
“Well, yeah,” says Jake. “But like. You were worried, and you weren’t going crazy.”
“Oh, right!” Her voice turns a bit squeaky. It works for him. “Yeah. Right. Definitely not. At all. And you weren’t, like, teaching Kevin weird poems.”
“Totally,” Jake agrees hastily. “100% not doing that.” It’s true. There’s no need for Amy to know about how he talks to photographs of her when they’re apart. If Amy doesn’t do weird stuff, there’s no need for him to look like the crazy one in this relationship.
They both fall into silence, no doubt contemplating how incredibly chill and not-crazy they are.
“I did miss you, though,” he manages eventually.
“I missed you so much,” she says right back.
“Sweet.” He enjoys that for a moment. “Hey, you finished your crossword, right? Wanna have sex?”
“Oh my god, yes.”
***
He’s missed sex with Amy, too.
***
“Do you think we should tell Captain Holt?” she asks him, afterwards.
“What, that Kevin loves him too?”
“Well… yeah.”
Jake really does consider it, for a moment. He thinks about Holt saying I’m inconsolable, and I’ve killed myself. Then he thinks about Kevin saying I’m not abandoning my husband. I love him.
“Nah,” he says. “They’ve got this, babe.”
But a few days later he sends them a postcard, just in case.