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Jake was sitting at his desk, having spent an entirely ordinary day at work so far. Boyle and he were currently tracking a drug trafficking ring that had recently become violent, and today had only consisted of paperwork, interviewing witnesses and victims, and most importantly, coffee breaks. It was now nearing the end of their shift, so he began to wrap up. He had gotten into a habit of at least organizing the files on his desk before he left; a habit that definitely was proof that he spent too much time with his girlfrie—his wife. He smiled to himself. There could be no such thing as spending too much time with Amy, not to him at least.
The elevator doors to their floor slid open, and suddenly there was commotion in the precinct. Two men were shouting, evidently not agreeing to be arrested. They were each being held in check by two uniformed officers.
“Detective Peralta, Detective Boyle!” the one uniform called, waving them over while restraining the man’s arms. Jake only managed a couple of steps when everything froze. That man...
“Jessie?” the blonde man said, looking up and stopping his attempts of escaping the two policemen. “Jessica Peralta? You became a fucking cop?”
Jake felt the world under his feet tilt. He felt numb, like he was beneath miles of water, and simultaneously he was hyperaware of who was in the room with him. All he could do was stare as his mind flooded with memories of who in the precinct knew said information and he realized just how fucked he truly was.
i. Captain Raymond Holt, 5 years ago
They had had tough times in the precinct before. But right now, it was looking real bleak for them. The “Giggle-Pig” task force wasn’t doing nearly as well as they had hoped, and this morning at the briefing the Captain had given new information on their mole situation. Someone on the inside had betrayed them, and Lieutenant Miller now investigated the case. For Jake, this was even more problematic, since he knew he had classified case files at home that he never bothered to return. But it turned out, the real problem wasn’t that after all. It was the captain.
“Peralta, my office,” Holt called from his door. Jake sighed and stood up, knocking over the box of cereal on his desk. Amy gave him a look, but he just sighed and made his way to Holt’s office.
“What’s up, Captain?” Jake asked, closing the door behind him. Holt gestured to the seat opposite him, his expression neutral as always, giving away absolutely nothing.
“Need me for a case?” Jake asked, lounging into the seat, one leg draped over the armrest. Holt said nothing yet, still looking at the laptop screen in front of him. The silence unsettled Jake a little, trying to read the severity of this meeting in the Captain’s face, but even after over a year of knowing him, he really couldn’t tell if he was going to be punished or promoted. “Am I in trouble?” He sat up a little more straight.
“I’ve been triple-checking everyone’s identities. It is nothing personal. The whole precinct is under investigation, so I have decided to conduct my own,” Holt said, now finally looking up from the laptop and at his detective.
“Found anything juicy?” Jake asked, though now preoccupied much more. Maybe he could judge the Captain’s tone after all.
“This squad is currently under federal investigation, detective, I was hoping there would be no juice to find,” he responded. Jake couldn’t help but smile at the captain’s strange use of slang.
“Well, what’s that to do with me?” Jake knew for a fact his record was clean. As much as he’d like to have some sort of interesting cop-story-worth shady backstory, he did not have one.
“I’ve found an inconsistency here, with you-“ Holt began, but Jake’s mouth fell open and he cut him off.
“You think I’M the fucking mole?” he asked, incredulous to what he was hearing. He stood up. These people were his family, he could never betray them, Holt had to know that.
“No, Peralta, sit down,” the captain sighed. Jake did sit down again, though on the edge of his seat. “No, I don’t think you’re the mole. But I am interested in this, there is a discrepancy with your social security number, here…”
He handed Jake a file. It was his current one, he noticed upon opening it. Listing his years on the force, his promotions, all that jazz. His social security number was at the top, and it was correct, as far as he could tell. He recited the nine digits and looked up, puzzled. “It’s correct?”
“The said number is listed under a woman’s account until about eleven years ago,” the captain explained. “She has the same last name as you, but I know you do not have any sisters, nor any extended family. So could you tell me who the hell is Je—“
“Stop!” Jake interrupted before the captain could continue.
“Excuse me?”
“Don’t say that name, I’m begging you,” Jake said. All the colour had left his face, and he was now gripping the armrests of his chair. He swallowed. His heart and his mind were racing equally out of control. The captain was staring at him, waiting for an explanation, and Jake knew he wasn’t getting out of this one. There had been close calls before. Now he’d have to come clean. Well, he thought, I’ve had a good run. But saying these things to his father figures had never gone well so far, so he wasn’t expecting much here. “Don’t say that name,” he repeated, trying to buy himself more time. “I’m afraid once I hear it in your powerful booming voice, I’ll never be able to unhear it.”
The captain stayed silent, observing his detective carefully. Jake could almost see the cogwheels turning in his head, trying to make sense of his behaviour. Well, now or never. “I’m assuming from context here that what you’re looking at is my birth name. That used to be my name, you know, before I was… well, Jake.”
He looked the captain in the eye and he saw the realization. He understood what he was trying to say here. And he was thankful he didn’t actually have to say it.
There was another silence, this time longer. He felt the captain’s scrutinizing gaze on him and he wanted to crumble underneath it. If he was losing his position here, he might as well go out with some dignity. But he had to say something, anything would do. But his head remained completely empty, he could not think of a single thing to say. C’mon Jake, anything, make a fart joke if you have to. Just say fucking something.
“Alright, you’re dismissed.” The captain had spoken before Jake even opened his mouth.
Huh? Jake couldn’t move from his chair. He wasn’t even sure he still had legs. “Wha-?”
“You’re dismissed,” he repeated. When Jake still didn’t move, Holt added, “don’t you have a drug case to solve?”
Another two heartbeats Jake was frozen to the spot, then all emotions hit him at once. “What-… how-… you’re-…I thought-…??” he babbled, “I thought-… how are you so fucking chill about this?”
Holt looked at him, eyebrows raised. “Does it impact your ability to work on this task force in any way?”
“No, of course not, but—“ Jake said, unbelieving at the scene that was unravelling in front of him.
“Then it is none of my business,” Holt said, looking back down onto his papers, conversation clearly over for him. Jake stood up and slowly walked to the door, absolutely bewildered. But he couldn’t just leave it at that. He turned around.
“So, you just don’t care?”
“Do you want me to?” Holt asked.
“Uh… no, I-… I guess not,” he said.
“Anything else I can do for you?” The captain was watching him and Jake realized he must have looked quite like shit. A little shaky, and sweaty, and pale as chalk. Not as much of an eye-candy as he was used to being.
“Well, yes actually…” he swallowed hard. “I’d appreciate it if you… you know… could keep this between us. The others don’t know about that—I mean well, Gina knows, I mean, she was around when I… well, back then. But yeah, the others don’t know and it’d be totes cool if it could stay that way. But I’d understand if you have t—.” Jake nodded, his throat felt thick, as though someone was closing a hand around it until he couldn’t breathe anymore—and not in a good way.
“Yes. Consider it open and shut. My sincerest apologies for intruding on your privacy. I will, of course, keep it to myself.” Holt said. The detective did not know what to say.
“Thank you, captain, thank you so much.” He made his way to the door, but before he could reach it, the captain spoke again.
“And Jacob?” Jake turned around to him. “Do come to me if you ever need anything.”
Jake smiled. He nodded, and he could see Holt giving him a smile too—a rare show of his emotions.
“Thank you, captain,” he just echoed, lost for words.
“No problem, son.”
He closed the door behind him and walked back to his desk, sitting on his squeaky rolling chair in shocked silence.
“You’re alright?” Amy asked him from across their desks. “What did Holt want?”
“Hm?” he looked up. “Nothing. Just an administrative thing.”
She shrugged and went back to her file. Jake leaned back and smiled to himself. He saw Holt doing about the same in his office. And he knew they were okay.
ii. Amy, 4 years ago
Ever since Jake had first realized his feelings for Amy were serious, he wanted to tell her about him. But they had known each other for so many years, he just didn’t know how to say it. He couldn’t just casually say it after all these years. But he didn’t want it to be a big deal either. And the worst of all: he didn’t want it to be a deal-breaker. He had asked once, on the sly, what her deal-breakers were.
“Oh god, so many. You know, not respecting my family, not being okay with my work, being a flat-earther, stuff like that. Imagine going out with a guy and he ends up being a Dixiecrat,” she said, though in a light-hearted tone. Jake had made some joke about it, but it hadn’t comforted him much.
And he tried to say it a couple of times, just like, hey, Ames, listen, I’ve been meaning to tell you… and at that point usually, it went south and he made up some stupid story. But he just couldn’t say it, she meant far too much to him.
And then they kissed on that mission and he was in heaven. And she said yes to going out with him and he knew, fuck, now he had to say it. But he couldn’t risk it at work. So that night, at dinner, he promised himself, he would say it.
“There should be rules,” Amy said. And he agreed, yes, they should have rules. “Let’s not have sex right away.” Internally, he was so relieved. Thank god. And he knew immediately, that he wouldn’t say it that night at dinner either. He had being stealth down to a fine art. He could even change in front of people without them seeing his scars. And he was quite proud of how long and how well he had managed to stealth his way around the precinct especially. But well, there was one activity that you couldn’t do without giving that up. So he was relieved Amy didn’t want to have sex right away either.
But turns out, things came at them a little different than expected. They got drunk. Very drunk, very fast. And well, we know that Four Drink Amy might be Jake’s favourite of the Santiago Drunkenness Scale.
Jake, equally inebriated, smiled into the kiss in front of the bar in the cold night air of Brooklyn.
“Let’s go, my place,” he said after they broke apart.
“No, I live closer,” she disagreed, pulling him into the cab that halted in front of them.
They could barely contain themselves during the cab ride, and after what seemed like hours, they made their way up the stairs of Amy’s building. As she unlocked the door to her apartment, Jake seemed to sober up. What was he thinking? They couldn’t just-… they had to talk about, well, that.
Before he could voice his doubts, Amy was pulling him inside and pushing him against the door, kissing him again. And how on earth could he say no to that, the most beautiful and smart and wonderful and perfect woman in the universe was kissing him, and he was supposed to put a stop to it?
After a moment or two, she let him go and pulled him towards her bedroom. And Jake felt like he blacked out for a bit, because the next thing he knew, he was hovering over Amy on her bed, and they were kissing again. One of her hands was getting dangerously close to his waistband, and that seemed to kick the last trace of alcohol out of his system. Shit, he thought, now or never.
“Ames,” he said quietly between kisses, “we have to stop.”
“Why? This is nice,” she smiled at him, her eyes just… brilliant.
“You’re drunk,” he said, kissing her cheek. Fuck, Peralta, man up and tell her.
“And? So are you. Besides, I’m just tipsy. And I know I want this,” she ensured him, her hands were both in his hair now, pulling just so lightly to remind him they were there. He almost melted.
“I… I gotta tell you something, Ames,” he said, moving off of her. She sat up too.
“What’s wrong?” She sat crossed-legged in front of him, her hair all messy and her make-up smudged and her dress wrinkled. And Jake had never loved her more.
“Before we continue, I have to tell you something—if you still want to continue then, that is, I mean… it’s—“ he started to ramble. Amy cut him off with a groan.
“Oh, Dios. You have a real weird kink, haven’t you? Madre mía, I knew it, you were too good to be true,” she looked at him, almost exasperated. He couldn’t help but chuckle. He kissed her lightly again and took her hands.
“I have plenty kinks, but that is for sure not what this is about,” his tone was light, he didn’t want this to be serious, but he knew he was just stalling for time.
“Out with it. I think there’s few things that will make me not want to this right now, but you dragging this out is one of them.”
“Well, alright,” he took a deep breath. “I just wanted to tell you that my body… well, it might be a little different than you were expecting. I’m—well, I was… well, assigned female at birth, if we’re on the same page about what that means. So yeah…” He let go of her hands and shuffled back to give her space. She looked at him, shocked and surprised.
“Are you fucking with me?” she said after a couple of moments.
“I’d like to be,” he joked. She smiled. He took that as a good sign. “But no, I’m serious.”
“But that can’t be true! I mean, you? You’re the epitome of being a guy. If men had a king, it’d be you. You’re such a stereotype! How?” she looked at him, completely puzzled. He shrugged.
“Well, I am a guy. I’ve just had a longer road to get there because apparently god hates me.”
“No, I didn’t mean to say you’re not one!” She grabbed his hands again. “I’m just very surprised. Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I wanted to, I really wanted to, Ames, I’m sorry.” He looked down. That was a lie. He hadn’t wanted to. But he had wanted to want to. If that made any sense.
“Do you trust me?” she asked. He looked up and met her gaze.
“Of course, Ames! It’s not that. It’s just-… god, I’m so hopelessly in love with you, I didn’t want this to be a deal-breaker,” he admitted. He could feel her letting go of his hands. It stung in his chest. And for a second, he loathed everything about himself, because of course this was a deal-breaker, but then her hands were on his chest and she was pushing him back, and hovering over him, she kissed him again. He was perplexed but reciprocated without a second thought.
“Are you sure you still want to do this?” he asked. She started undoing the buttons of his shirt, slowly, leaving time for him to stop her if he so wanted.
“Yes, nothing changed as to five minutes ago. I mean, I have a million questions, and there will be time for that tomorrow because right now I’m drunk and horny and you’re just so handsome,” she said, her face pressed into his neck. He chuckled.
“What did I do to deserve you, Ames?” he smiled.
“Shut up, and get undressed, Peralta,” she said, shoving the now open button-down off his shoulders. And he did as she asked. Few things could beat pretty girls giving him orders in a bossy tone.
After what was arguably the best sex of Jake’s entire life, they were lying side by side in Amy’s bed, both utterly spent.
“So, we broke a rule,” Jake said, staring at the ceiling.
“Yeah,” Amy sighed and looked at him. “I hope it wasn’t a mistake.” He returned her gaze.
“`I hope it wasn’t a mistake´, title of your sex tape—oh, title of OUR sex tape!” he smiled widely at her and she cracked up, taking his hand under the blankets. And he knew they were okay.
iii. Charles, 3 years ago
It’d been about a week since Charles and Genevieve told Jake that the first phase of their adoption was now over and they had gone through all the papers, making Nikolaj now legally their son. And Jake was glad for them, he really was. He knew Charles just wanted nothing more than to be a father, and he would be a good one too. Though, his bar for what a good father was was hella low anyway. Pretty much anyone could be better than Roger Peralta, who had once researched conversion therapy on the family’s computer and had not deleted his search history before his son went on it. So that was fun.
Jake was currently watching TV on the couch, his legs draped over Amy’s lap, who had been reading for the last hour. His heart was filled to the brim with love watching her, which he was doing more attentively than watching whatever was happening on television.
The doorbell rang and ripped him out of his comfortable, mushy thought process about the love for his girlfriend.
“I’ll go,” he said, making his way to the door in sweatpants and a hoodie.
When he opened the door, he was greeted by a smiling Charles Boyle.
“Hey, man, what are you doing here?” Jake asked.
“I just wanted to talk to you about something, if you have the time,” Charles said, making his best friend’s eyebrow raise by about a mile. That sounded concerning, to say the least.
“Yeah, of course. Amy is here, do you wanna take a walk?” Jake proposed, to which Charles agreed, so he quickly got into his sneakers and kissed Amy goodbye.
Soon, the two of them were walking on the streets of Brooklyn, around Jake’s neighbourhood. They had eased in with a talk about work, but Jake was eager to know what had brought Charles to his doorstep at this late hour.
“So, as you know, Genevieve and I have been finishing up the paperwork with our agency,” Charles started. Jake looked at him expectantly.
“Yeah, I’m happy it’s working out so well, Nikolaj is great.”
“Yeah, he really is an angel,” Charles smiled, eyes filled with pride. After a moment, he got a paper out of his pocket and handed it to him. It appeared to be a legal form. Jake started skimming it. Adoption, blah blah, appointed guardian, blah blah, in case of this and that, blah.
“Huh?” he asked, looking up at Charles.
“Genevieve and I talked, and we would like you to be Nikolaj’s godfather,” he said, barely able to contain his glee. Jake blinked at him, twice, thrice, then laughed.
“Charles, I’m honoured. But you are aware that I am, in fact, Jewish, right? Shouldn’t a godfather take responsibility for the religious education of the child? Amy made me watch a documentary,” he added on as an explanation of where he had procured this knowledge.
“Not in the religious sense, of course,” Charles agreed, “I don’t know if Gwen and I are into that anyway.”
“Well, I mean, if you’re sure, I’d be honoured of course!” Jake smiled widely. Charles, always the affectionate, gave him a bone-crushing hug.
“Oh, Jake! I’m so happy. You’re the best. I just really want my baby to have someone he can trust, you know, someone that’ll be there for him,” Charles beamed and rambled on for a bit, hugging Jake a couple more times.
“I’m really honoured, Charles, that you trust me with that,” Jake admitted. Godfather. He, the guy who was currently wearing a dirty pair of sweatpants and a hoodie that was actually older than Nikolaj. That was fucking nuts.
“I know you’ll be there for him, Jakey, I can see it now. When he’s older, and he’s embarrassed to come to his papa for advice, he’ll come to you. You know, all those beautiful questions about boyhood and puberty and growing up,” Charles nudged him, knowing that Jake was weird about kids and stuff like that. Jake had often joked about that it was because all of that stuff was awkward and gross, and that’s why he was always strange about that. Right now, Charles’ comment was actually quite the punch in the gut—not that he knew that.
“Charles, actually, maybe you should choose someone else,” he said, trying to cover up his embarrassment.
“You know I’m just messing,” Charles smiled, unconcerned.
“No, I mean it. You should probably find someone else,” Jake insisted. He stopped walking. They had made their way to the neighbourhood park, and at this hour of the night, it was deserted, only a few lost souls were walking their dogs.
“Don’t you wanna do it?” Charles asked, now also stopping his walk, looking at Jake dejectedly. Jake felt like an asshole. Either, he could hurt Charles here by saying he had no interest in being godfather to his child, or he could tell him the truth and possibly ruin their relationship. Fuck, he thought, I have to tell him I don’t want to do it. Losing his friendship would be worse for both of us. He opened his mouth, but looking into Charles’ sad face he knew he didn’t have the balls to hurt him. Ironically.
“Hey, come sit down,” he said and gestured over to the bench. They sat together and Charles looked at him.
“What’s going on?” he asked, more than a little concerned now.
“I’m gonna tell you something if that’s okay.” Charles gestured for him to go on, so he did. “I won’t be much help for your son, especially adolescence-wise. And especially-especially puberty-wise. First of all, gross, no one should talk about that ever, that shit is disgusting; second of all, I went through the wrong puberty.” He took a deep breath.
“What?” Charles asked, absolutely no idea where he was going with this.
“Wrong puberty. You know. I was very, you know, not male. I’m stabbing myself with testo every month. It’s great,” he said, trying to keep the tone light.
“You’re t—“ Charles began, staring at him, looking lost.
“Yup,” Jake said, plopping the p at the end.
“That’s—“ But Charles didn’t finish that sentence. He just hugged the fuck out of Jake on that park bench. Jake laughed, the tension he had felt now melted away. His best friend’s rejection would have broken him apart. He knew it would have. But now, as the short man had his arms flung around him, he knew he needn’t have worried about that, because he was such a lucky bastard and god had graced him with the most loyal best friend in the universe.
“Can’t breathe here, buddy,” he said with a laugh and tapped out on Charles’ shoulder.
“I’m sorry, Jakey, I’m just so happy you told me,” he sniffed, and Jake could tell he was almost crying—but then again Charles Boyle could cry at anything. They had once visited an animal shelter for a case and upon seeing the animals locked up, Charles had been inconsolable for two hours straight. And he had adopted two more dogs. He couldn’t help himself.
“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you before. It’s just, you know... because work and all,” he shrugged.
“Wait, the others don’t know?”
“No. Well, Gina does, we grew up together, she was with me the whole way.” Then he remembered. “Oh, and Holt found out a few years back, through snooping through my old personnel files. And Amy knows, of course. How could she not. We do have sex. All the time, lots,” he said, overcompensating as always.
“I’ll take it to my grave,” Charles nodded, a serious look on his face. Jake raised an eyebrow. Charles was fucking terrible at keeping secrets most of the time.
“Are you planning to die next week?” he joked. He expected him to slip up within the next few days.
“I’m serious, Jakey. I’m not telling anyone. Not even Genevieve. Usually, we have this routine, where when I shampoo her hair, which is you know, highly erotic—“
“Gross, Charles, I told you to never speak to me about your relationship, ever.”
“Ah yes, sorry. Either way, we tell each other secrets during it, because it’s very intimate—“
“You two are disgusting,” Jake said decidedly, crossing his arms, shuddering. He had shampooed Amy’s hair once, when she had hurt her wrist on a case, and he personally found it to be a very tedious task. He had never even heard of conditioner before.
“Listen to me! My point is, I’m not going to tell her! Or the Serge, or Rosa, or anyone,” Charles insisted. Jake smiled and nodded.
“Thank you, man. It means a lot to me.” He stood up, and they started heading back. In front of his building, they stopped.
“So will you be Nikolaj’s godfather?” Charles asked. Jake’s heart wrenched in his chest with emotion he couldn’t express.
“You still want me to?” he asked, just to make sure.
“Of course! You’re my best friend, and nothing could ever change that.”
Jake’s cheeks hurt from smiling. “Yes. I’ll be the lil´ man’s godfather.”
Charles handed him a pen and the form and turned around. Jake signed it on his back and gave it back to him. They hugged again, and Charles refused to let him go. And Jake knew they were okay.
iv. Rosa, 1 year ago
The squad had managed to get Lieutenant Hawkins behind bars, and Rosa and Jake were discharged from prison. The two of them had become closer because of what they had gone through, and the many hours of therapy that had followed. It had now been a few months, and they were doing well at work, feeling as though they had finally arrived in normalcy again. Being themselves again, like always. That was until one day, Rosa came up to him during work, and leaned on his desk.
“Peralta, can I talk to you?” she said. Jake, who had been only pretending to read the arrest report in front of him, and in reality was fully focused on eating M&M’s, leaned back in his chair, throwing a blue chocolate-y nut into the air and catching it with his mouth.
“Sure, wassup?” he asked.
“Come with me,” she said, in her Rosa-tone that accepted no ‘No’s.
“Alright…” he shrugged, confused as to what she would want that was so serious. He followed her onto the outside area of their floor, making sure no one was watching them through the windows.
“Have you brought me out here to finally finish me off?” he joked.
“No, worse,” she said. “It’s a personal thing.”
“Oof,” Jake said, “in the Rosa-world that is worse, actually.” And it was.
“You know I hate talking about personal stuff,” she started, leaning on the bannister of the balcony, overlooking the neighbourhood buildings.
“Yeah, so what’s the matter?” he asked. If she was willing to talk about her personal life, things must be grave.
“I overheard something, you know, a while back, before prison. And I was gonna ignore it, because frankly, it is none of my business, but now it’s sorta relevant again, because of… well, me, and I wanted to talk to you about it,” she said, still not looking at him. Jake just stared at her, absolutely puzzled. What?
“You’re scaring me, man,” he said.
“I guess, I’ll just say it. Before prison, I heard the judge tell Sam and another lawyer that he could send us the same prison, as, you know, sorta a favour. The one I went to. And Sam said that that made no sense because the prison they were gonna send us to was an all-women prison, and well the judge said that in the system your sex showed up as female, so they had no choice. Sam handed in your revised birth certificate and everything, and the judge accepted it. But yeah. I heard. And I was like, well, that’s none of my business, Jake’s Jake and anything else is fucked,” Rosa shrugged, and finally did look at him.
Jake was fairly certain he had never heard her talk for this long before, and he would have loved to comment on that, but his entire mouth had gone so dry, he felt as though he had swallowed the Sahara desert.
“Why—?” he croaked out, unable to find any question that he wanted to have answered.
“It’s none of my business, and I understand if you wanna say fuck you and not talk to me about any of this, and I promise I’ll never bring it up to you or anyone else ever. But if I could talk to you about something related, I would be very grateful,” she looked at him and he saw that she was trying to open up, and this moment was a lot less about him than it was about her. She’s trying to tell me something here, I’m just an egocentric ass, he concluded.
“Yes, of course, Rosa. You know you can talk to me about anything. We’re friends,” he assured her, daring even to touch her shoulder encouragingly. She let him.
“I know. I’m glad about that,” she said, giving an uncharacteristic smile. “Here goes nothing.” She took a deep breath. “I’m bi. And I want to tell the squad and my family. And I don’t know how to, and I need help.” She said it as though every statement was making her cringe inside.
“Oh, Rosa,” Jake smiled, fighting the urge to hug her, “thank you for telling me. I’ll help you with everything you need, what’s first on the list?”
“The squad,” she said. Jake saw her shoulders relax and she looked more comfortable, now that the hard part for her seemed to be over. He really wanted her to know that he was safe, and she could be herself around him in every way. That’s all it takes sometimes to be an ally.
“Alright,” he said, “so what are you thinking?”
“Morning briefing tomorrow. Just, you know, fucking out with it,” she proposed. He laughed. That was a very Rosa way to do it.
“If it feels right, do it. I’ll be there, and Holt too, and Ames and Charles are cool with this stuff too. They know about me,” he admitted. She observed him.
“No one else?”
“No,” he said. “I’d ask you to keep it to yourself, but you’re not one to gossip anyway.”
“Thank you, Jake,” she said, looking up at him sincerely.
“For what?”
“Just, you know, being cool about this.” They looked at each other for a moment, with what seemed like newfound mutual understanding. The next moment, Jake had Rosa in an airtight hug. She let him, which was rare.
“It’s no problem,” he said. “Thank you too.”
They let go and walked back towards the door to the bullpen. Rosa shoved him with her shoulder in her usual manner. Jake laughed, and he knew they were okay.
v. Terry, 6 months ago
They had been insanely busy with all the wedding prep, and cases had been piling up as well so that Jake was running on a smooth three-hours-per-night and thirteen-coffees-per-day schedule. It got so bad, that at one point during a bust, he had paid so little attention, a perp got him right between the ribs, fist spiked with brass knuckles. He coughed, all air having been pressed out of his lungs by the hit. Who could have seen that coming, he thought, annoyed, these things were illegal in the state of New York for a reason.
“You good, man?” Rosa asked, taking down the perp from behind and cuffing him.
Jake, only barely standing upright, clutching his side while trying to heave air into his lungs, gave her a thumbs-up with one hand. The stars dancing before his vision disappeared slowly as they walked the perps to the squad cars waiting in front of the building. Six arrests were made, so the day was a win in Jake’s book anyway.
Back at the precinct, he made his way to the locker room that he so barely used. But they had them so that they could change into their uniform if necessary or shower after a training session. He never did that, for quite obvious reasons, but also because changing at home was just much more convenient. He took off his jacket and tie, laying them on the bench quickly. Then he unbuttoned his shirt and inspected the hit he’d taken. The area was already turning funny colours, so that was not ideal. He poked around it, trying to see if anything brought him the blinding pain that would indicate a broken bone, but before he could investigate any further, he heard a shout.
“Damn, Peralta!” He startled, looking up with wide eyes to find the sergeant standing a few feet away, having dropped the towels he was holding.
“Terry, heyyyyy, what are you doing here?” he asked, faking a nonchalant tone. He crossed his arms in front of his chest, which did hurt his ribs a little. That should concern him.
“Holy shit, Jake, what did you do?” he yelled. It occurred to him that he had used his hands to hide his scars and not his new injury, which he probably should have done.
“Got punched, did not see he had brass knuckles,” Jake admitted, now rebuttoning his shirt. “If you would excuse me, I shall now interrogate my drug-ring members.”
“Are you mental? You’re going to the hospital, now,” Terry said, putting his things away and then seeing to Jake.
“It’s not that bad, Serge.”
“This is an order from your superior officer. Hospital. Now, Peralta. Get Amy to drive you,” he insisted. Jake sighed.
“She’s knee-deep in her string of B&E’s. I’m driving myself,” he surrendered, deep down knowing that if his ribs were cracked, he should probably know about it. This was highlighted by the fact that putting his jacket back on was kind of painful.
“I’m driving you,” Terry decided. “Come on.”
There was no arguing with him since he could literally physically pick him up and carry him to the hospital if he so wished, so Jake just tailed after him out of the precinct and into the sergeant’s car.
On the ride, Jake briefed him quickly on what went down on the bust and how he got punched.
“You gotta take better care of yourself, we’ve had this conversation,” Terry commented. “Get some more sleep and all that.” Jake stayed silent, as this was an argument he couldn’t win. Especially since he knew the sergeant was right.
“Soooo,” Terry began, and Jake had a feeling he knew what was about to go down. He took a deep breath.
“Yeah,” said Jake.
“Saw your scars. Just wanted to make sure we’re on the same page,” he prompted, waiting for Jake to say something. But as always when it came to this topic, words seemed to leave him. And this time, it wasn’t even that much his fault, because he was developing a killer headache and thinking about all this made it worse.
“What do you wanna hear? I used to have boobs and now I don’t; sorry for flashing you, but you did walk in on me, so it’s at least partly on you,” Jake retorted, leaning his head against the cool window, trying to keep his shit together.
“You know I didn’t mean it like that, I just wanted to tell you that I know, and that it’s fine. I wasn’t born yesterday. Does the squad know?” Terry asked, giving him a quick glance, then turning his eyes back on the road.
“No,” he said out of habit. But then he thought again, “actually, I think yes. They started finding out one after another over the course of the last few years. You know, Holt, Rosa, Charles. Amy, of course. And Gina was there back then. She actually took care of me after my surgery,” he chuckled at the memory. “Couple months before I got into the academy. It was a shitshow trying to get fit enough to pass my physical, man.” He rubbed his face. Blinking slowly. “God, I’m rambling. I need coffee. Mixed with Redbull.”
“That’s gross,” Terry commented. “Just get eight hours of sleep, man, it’s not that hard.”
“I’ll leave being the fit, functional guy to you,” Jake shrugged. There was a silence. He was kind of scared of what the serge might be thinking. When he looked at him, his forehead was in wrinkles, and his expression was thoughtful. But it turned out he worried for nothing.
“So, what you’re saying is, you had a whole world’s worth of baby names at your disposal and you were free to choose, and you picked Jacob?” he asked, in the most accusatory voice Jake had ever heard him do. It made him laugh wholeheartedly, and he relaxed. If that was the serge’s worst problem with it, he’d gladly take it.
“Yes, Terrence, that’s what I chose,” he laughed. Terry shook his head and they drove the rest of the way in comfortable silence.
At the hospital, the sergeant stayed with him and waited over an hour for Jake’s turn in the emergency room. His ribs were fine, but the perp had seriously mashed his muscle. He was off work for a couple of days, and then desk duty for at least two weeks. Jake sighed but agreed that it was for the best.
Terry drove him home afterwards. Jake got out of the car in front of his and Amy’s apartment.
“Thank you, Sarge. For driving. And for caring,” he said.
“It’s no problem, Jake, really. And thanks for talking to me about, you know, your stuff. I promise I’ll keep it on the DL,” Terry nodded and gave him a smile.
“Thank you, really,” he smiled. He reached to close the car door. Terry rolled the window down as Jake was walking away.
“If I catch you in the field before you’re cleared, I’ll break your ribs for real,” he yelled after him, but in that tone that he had that meant he was just looking out for him. Jake laughed and waved from their doorstep as Terry drove off. And he knew they were okay.
vi. Everyone, present
“Detective Peralta, Detective Boyle!” the one uniform called, waving them over while restraining the man’s arms. Jake only managed a couple of steps when everything froze. That man...
“Jessie?” the blonde man said, looking up and stopping his attempts of escaping the two policemen. “Jessica Peralta? You became a fucking cop?”
He was fucked. He was absolutely fucked. The squad knew, for the most part. But there were loads of people in the bullpen. People from the night shift had come in early. Victims. Witnesses. Lawyers. Uniformed officers. Two tech-guys trying to reanimate Scully’s computer. Kevin was in the captain’s office, picking him up so they could go see a play, like it was 1600 or something. People were everywhere. Jake was absolutely fucked.
He had to play it off, he had to. His eyes flicked around the room, seeing everyone staring at him. Amy and Charles were on high alert, slowly standing up from their desks. The captain and Kevin, in their best suits, had come out of Holt’s office. Terry was walking in from the break room with Rosa. And Gina had put her fucking phone away, which meant the event was apocalyptic. And it was.
“Lennart, great to see you here in cuffs,” Jake said, trying to smile, but it must have resembled more of a horrifying grimace. “It’s Detective Jake Peralta, actually.”
“The fuck you talkin about, Jessie? Get me outta these cuffs, princess, then we can catch up, whaddya say?” Lennart said, making Jake’s stomach turn. He talked just the same way he did in high school. And he called him the same names. He turned away, to the uniformed officer that was restraining Lennart, and he was glad that he recognized him.
“Officer Minsk, would you please escort these two into holding?” he tried to sound calm and confident. I was pretty sure everyone saw he was pale, and sweating.
“These two are part of your drug trafficking case. We caught them trying the sneak into the old hide-out,” Minsk explained and Jake held his hand out, knowing full well Charles would high-five him. And he didn’t disappoint. The sound echoed a little through the otherwise silent office. People were still staring at them, immobile.
“Fucking delightful, straight into two interrogation rooms then. Great work all of you,” he pointed to the uniforms, and they all nodded appreciatively, trying to move the two perps through the bullpen to interrogation. Lennart was having none of it.
“Jessie, I ain’t done nothing, let me fucking go. Why are you lookin like this anyway? You look like a dude. You a lesbian now or what?” he struggled against the officers, getting closer to Jake, who was frozen to the spot. Lennart’s pupils were wide, he was clearly tripping balls on something, and a regular user too, since he must have taken a fair amount and was still standing.
“My name is Detective Jake Peralta, and you will address me as such,” Jake gritted through his teeth. If it wasn’t police brutality and generally very very frowned upon, he’d punch him in the face. Don’t lose your badge over this motherfucker, he thought as he took a deep breath, he’s not worth it.
“C’mon, babygirl, why so—“ Lennart started again, but Jake raised his voice.
“Get him to interrogation, now,” he said loudly, and the officers complied. Lennart and his accomplice were taken away, though still struggling and yelling things. Jake tried to breathe evenly, and it took him everything he had not to crumble right there in the middle of the office. He watched them be escorted, and then he realized the entire bullpen was silent. Not a single person was talking, or walking, or ruffling through papers. All eyes were on him. He still had anger boiling inside of him, he couldn’t find a joke to break the tension. A mix of both came out in the end.
“Well, there’s nothing to fucking see here, is there?” he said loudly, looking around. “Never seen someone’s ex getting arrested on drug trafficking?” People seemed to wake from their shocks at the scene they had just witnessed, and life returned to the precinct.
“Jake...” Amy started, reaching out to him, but he knew he needed a moment alone before he could say anything. He shot her a look and she didn’t say anything else. He grabbed his papers from his desks and nodded to Boyle.
“See you in interrogation in five.” Charles nodded.
Jake made his way across the office, past Captain Holt and Kevin, whose eyes were following him. When he walked past, Holt tried to stop him, but he gave him a look too and the captain dropped it immediately. Kevin had something on his face that Jake could only label as pity.
He quickly reached interrogation too and entered the spectators’ side, safe behind the mirrored glass. He could see Lennart on the other side, his head on the table, blissed out by all the drugs he had up his nose. Jake leant against the wall and slid to the floor. The cold stone grounded him pleasantly.
He groaned softly in frustration and tilted his head back. He was really in it now, huh? How long had he gone stealth? Fifteen years? God. And then his son of a bitch ex-boyfriend, who he had dated for one year, twenty fucking years ago, decided to sniff cocaine in his district. Had he done this in any other fucking division, it would have been fucking fine. Not that anyone should be doing coke. But if people from his old high school decided to do that, they should at least be doing it elsewhere.
Sighing, he rubbed his face and took a deep breath. And now he had to interrogate that asshole and get him to rat out his suppliers. Wasn’t that just superb.
He heard the door opening. It was Amy.
“Jake. Can you come to the briefing room?” she asked, leaning against the door. He got up from the floor and brushed his clothes down.
“I have a perp to interrogate,” he said, nodding his head towards the glass separating the two rooms.
“Let him sober up for a bit, come one,” she said, taking his hand. He surrendered, letting his wife take him to the briefing room. Everyone who passed them sent nervous glances towards Jake. He just kept his head down mostly.
Amy opened the door to the briefing room and Jake saw Charles, Gina, Terry, Rosa, Holt and Kevin sitting there, scattered around the room.
“What’s going on? We have a perp, Charles, we can’t hold him forever,” Jake began. Amy led him to the front table and forced him to sit down on top of it. She took the chair by his side.
“We wanted to make sure you’re okay first,” Amy admitted.
“I’m absolutely fine,” Jake said, not even thinking about whether that was the truth or not. He made an effort to get up, but Amy stopped him.
“Who was that guy?” she asked. Jake swallowed. Alright. He’d have to tell them sooner or later. Might as well do it now.
“Why, jealous?” he joked, winking at Amy. But it didn’t carry, his tone far too dejected to humour the others. He sighed. “His name is Lennart Carter, he’s my ex. I dated him for a year in high school. It wasn’t great. In my defence, he did not do cocaine back then.”
“I remember the bastard. Any senior guy who dates a freshman girl is instant sus,” Gina said, then pointed at Terry. “Tell your kids, Sarge.”
“They’re in primary school!” Terry objected, lifting his arms in question.
“Never too early to start teaching them that men are trash,” Gina shrugged, which was such a Gina thing to say that it made Jake smile ear to ear.
“Facts,” said Kevin, to everyone’s surprise. They knew of course, that Gina and Kevin held a special relationship, but it going to the extent of Kevin saying `Facts´ to Gina’s controversial opinions was new.
“Can I interrogate my perp now?” asked Jake, knowing full-well the answer was going to be no.
“Are you alright? He was really rough with you,” Amy said, stroking Jake’s arm. “And you never wanted it to get out this way.” He smiled at her softly.
“I will be okay. Cat’s out the bag now, nothing I can do about it. If someone wants to give me crap, then that’s that,” Jake shrugged.
No one else seemed to have any objection to him leaving, so he took Boyle and they went into the interrogation. It was quite tough. Lennart kept referring to Jake as “babygirl”, “Jessie”, “princess”, or “bitch”, and Jake had responded every time with “It’s Detective Jake Peralta, actually”, trying to remain professional. And they did get some information out of him, but not nearly enough, and after an hour, when Lennart started talking about having taken Jake’s virginity, he had had enough and asked Charles if they could take five.
Charles went to get them some coffee, and Jake went to the spectators’ side of the room, to enjoy himself a few minutes of silence. But when he opened the door, Captain Holt was leaning against the table, observing the other room through the glass.
“Captain?” Jake asked, collapsing down onto the other table, resting his head against the wall.
“You handled that very maturely,” Holt said, nodding towards Lennart.
“Thanks. Were you babysitting me?” Jake said, a little hurt. Holt sighed.
“No, of course not. You are a very capable detective. There is no need for that,” he said, watching Jake closely.
“Then what are you doing here?” he asked
“I take it back,” Holt crossed his arms, “maybe you’re not a capable detective. That’s quite an easy solve, Peralta.”
“I don’t need your pity, if that’s it,” he lashed out, feeling instantly bad.
“I was worried, Jake. I just needed to see if you’re alright,” Holt clarified. Jake sighed, rubbing his face with his hands and messing up his hair to distract himself.
“I’m sorry, captain. This guy has just really gotten under my skin, with his constant ‘babygirl’,” Jake apologized, looking up at Holt, who now reached out to his shoulder.
“You don’t have to go back in there. Boyle can take it solo. Or we’ll send Diaz in, she is terrifying,” the captain smiled. Jake wanted to take him up on it. He didn’t want to go back in there, not for a thousand dollars. But he had to crack him, this drug case had been taunting him and Charles for months, and this was a good chance.
“No, I’ll get to him eventually. I’ll be fine. And anyway, meetings with my therapist were kinda boring lately, this’ll spice it up for sure,” he joked.
“Alright, but promise me you’ll come get Diaz when you need to. She’s staying late, and I am too,” Holt reassured. Jake felt a pang of guilt in his chest.
“Captain, you have a play to go to, and Rosa... does exist outside of work, I think,” he said. “Don’t stay late because of me. I’ll get this guy.”
“Kevin was more than understanding,” he assured. “Now get back in there.”
And right on cue, Charles came in with two coffee mugs. He handed one to Jake.
“Ready to go again, Jakester?” he asked, taking a big sip. Jake did the same and nodded.
“Yeah, let’s go.”
Holt followed them out into the hallway and laid a hand on Jake’s shoulder. “Good luck, son.”
“Thanks,” Jake smiled, and opened the door to the interrogation room and took a deep breath. Back in they go.
It took the better part of four hours. The drugs were wearing off and when Lennart started crashing, he also started talking. He incriminated himself, his partner, and gave them names to other stash houses, though Jake wasn’t so sure that he knew that he was doing it. Either way, when they walked out, it was the middle of the night and they had a signed testimony and confession. Jake instructed a uniformed officer to take Lennart to County Jail.
Then he walked into the bullpen. The night squad was working away with tired faces. Holt had indeed waited on them. Jake, exhausted, handed over the signed papers. The captain clapped him on the back. “I’m proud of you, son,” he said, skimming over the confession.
“Thanks, dad,” Jake yawned. “Going home now. See you guys tomorrow.”
“Hold on,” Holt held him back. “You should say something tomorrow morning, at briefing.”
“Yeah, duh?” Jake raised an eyebrow. They had had a major breakthrough in their drug case. He was obviously going to brag about that all through the briefing.
“I mean about the incident,” the captain said, giving him a knowing look.
“Oh...” he exclaimed quietly. “I don’t know about that.” It was bad enough that everyone had heard that, he didn’t need to remind them of it himself. Well, it’s not like they would forget that anyway. But saying the words in front of everyone? He didn’t know if he was capable of that.
“Jake, when I joined the force as a gay, black detective, I had to learn that speaking up about who you are can never do as much harm as keeping quiet. When you keep quiet, people make their own assumptions in their heads, and you know how terribly wrong it goes when people start thinking on their own,” Holt said, making Jake chuckle. “When I was younger, my colleagues would not give me a chance to explain myself, whereas now, I’m proud to see that your colleagues cannot wait to hear from you. I suggest you use the opportunity that you have been given. Now get some rest.”
Jake thought about Holt’s advice all the way home. He didn’t come to a conclusion. In their apartment, he found that Amy had fallen asleep in the living room with a book on her lap, waiting up for him. He looked at her for a little bit, marvelling at her beauty. Then he sneaked by, getting himself ready to for bed, and then carried a sleepy Amy to the bedroom. She only woke up for about five seconds and mumbled something incoherent before nodding off again. He chuckled softly and held her as they fell asleep.
In the morning Amy’s alarm blared, waking them up. Jake felt groggy. The entirety of yesterday’s events flooded back to him, and he buried his face deeper in his pillows. He really did not feel like facing that today. But he knew he had to, when Amy’s second alarm, much louder and much more annoying than the first one, started ringing. He got up reluctantly and dragged himself to the shower.
“Morning. I’ll drive,” he said, joining his wife in the kitchen. She kissed him on the cheek.
“Ready to go?” she asked, regarding him carefully. He nodded.
“So, about yesterday...” she started as they got in the car together.
“Charles and I got him, ratted out half the operation by accident. And signed confession,” Jake bragged with a smile. He knew that that wasn’t what she was asking, but it was all he could give for now.
“Nice one!” Amy smiled. “Did it go okay?”
“It fucking sucked,” he said honestly, taking her hand while stopping at a red light. “But at least we got him.”
“Sooo, do you wanna talk about the whole outing thing or not?” she said, hinting around it. She knew Jake hated talking about it.
“The captain wants me to address it at the briefing,” he said, dodging the question.
“Well, are you going to?” she asked.
“I don’t know, Ames,” he said, his tone heavy. She held his hand in silence for the rest of the car ride, leaving him to his contemplations. Sometimes the best she could do for him is reminding him she’s there while he navigates his thoughts alone.
They were early as always, so Jake began sorting through all the paperwork he would need to brief the others on the drug case. He tried to keep his thoughts solely on that. He would simply and professionally update them on the recent developments of the trafficking ring. No personal notes. Holt would be disappointed, but he had to take that. Jake couldn’t address it. Not yet. Maybe not ever.
People started tailing towards the briefing room, coffee in hand, still yawning for the most part. Jake made his way there too, taking his seat next to Charles, who was discussing something parenting-related with Terry. Jake half-listened to it, but his heart was pounding so heavily, he could barely focus on anything else. Why was the room so packed? Didn’t the uniformed officers usually only come to the briefing if they were directly involved? But then he was ripped out of his contemplations by Captain Holt greeting them, and asking Amy to update them on her and Rosa’s B&E case. Jake watched her, nodding along. He had gone over this with her yesterday at lunch. They usually bounced ideas off each other if they ate lunch together, but yesterday had been especially productive, resulting in a new lead for Amy.
“Peralta, you’re up,” Amy smiled at him, tossing him the remote for the monitor. He caught it swiftly and stood up.
“You can call me Jake you know, I think we’re there,” he said. A few chuckles went around the room as he made his way to the front. When he leaned on the lectern-type thing at the front, he saw just how packed the room really was. Uniformed officers were lining the walls, even outside the door was a pile of them listening in. What? Since when did they care about cases they had no connection to? And there were definitely people from HR at the door, he realized. And was that... the IT-guy who had been there yesterday standing in the back behind the uniforms? Jake swallowed. He had a feeling they weren’t actually here for the case. They wanted him to comment on the... other stuff that had happened. He couldn’t. Not with this many people.
“Alright,” he cleared his throat. “Drugs, cocaine, trafficking, cool, cool, cool, cool, cool, cool, no doubt, let’s go.” He clicked the remote and a mugshot of Lennart appeared on the screen. “So, as you may have heard, yesterday some uniforms picked up this guy and his accomplice trying to sneak into an abandoned hide-out of our drug trafficking ring. Boyle and I interrogated this guy and he let the locations of three other warehouses slide, plus accidentally ratting out a good dozen of his colleagues by accident, so that was quite fortunate. IT’s going through his phone, they’ll let us know soon if more of his contacts are suspects.” He rambled on about the surveillance of the warehouses and the eventual bust with the tactical teams. Eventually, he came to an end. “So, recap, thanks to this guy, we might have enough to bring down their whole operation and make it stick. Great work of all those involved. Yes, that is a brag.”
He looked around the room, and instead of the usual commotion at the end of the briefing, everyone was still looking at him, expecting and attentive. They were waiting. He looked to Amy, who smiled encouragingly. And then to the captain, who gave him a simple nod. And when he saw them all sitting there, he felt strangely calm.
“I know a lot of you witnessed the... aftermath of Lennard Carter’s arrest. What happened was extremely unprofessional, and I apologize to everyone who had to see that. It will not happen again, I can assure you that much.” He laughed humourlessly. “But yes, that was my ex, and in my defence, he was a lot hotter twenty years ago, and also didn’t have his nose in a pile of coke. And I know a lot of you heard him call me names, and I just wanted to make it real clear, that yes, that used to be my name, but I am now legally Jacob Peralta and that’s what I wish to be called, so if you could just forget what you heard yesterday, that’d be great.” He took a deep breath. “Yeah, I’m trans. And if anyone has a problem with that, you can take that up with m—“
“Me. You can take that up with me,” Holt interrupted from where he was standing on the side. He was stoic as ever, hands folded behind his back. But pure authority seemed to be radiating off him.
“Or me,” said the sergeant from his seat. He subtly flexed the muscles in his shoulders. If Jake hadn’t known Terry to be the soft giant he was, he’d be scared of him.
“Or me,” Rosa added, shifting in her seat ever so slightly, just enough for her holster to peek out from under the table. They all carried guns. But the fact that Rosa carried one was somehow still chilling. Jake didn’t have any time to process, because Charles and Amy said at the same time,
“Or me!” Jake looked at his wife and his best friend and gripped his files more tightly because he felt he was losing his grip on reality.
And then without looking up from her phone, Gina chimed in. “Or me, if you want someone to expose all of your dirty little secrets on Twitter.”
“Dismissed,” said Holt, and after a moment of silence, people started to drain out of the room. Jake just stood there, frozen to the spot, absolutely overwhelmed by what just happened.
After a few moments, only the squad was left in the room, and Terry went to close the door.
“Are you alright, babe?” Amy asked, went up to him. He awoke from what he deemed to be a temporary coma.
“Did I just fucking come out the whole-ass precinct?” he asked, not being able to say the sentence without sprinkling in some swearwords; it was just too raw.
“It seems so,” said Charles, looking to him with what could only be read as admiration. Jake didn’t feel so admirable. Had that been a mistake? Had he just ruined his career?
“Why is it a big deal? You did it before, remember chem class?” Gina shrugged.
“Yes, I fucking remember chem class. The guys made my life a living hell for the remaining two years of high school, so I’m not so big on the whole coming out thing. What if I just ruined my career?” he voiced his concerns.
“Jake, nothing is gonna change for you. We got you,” Terry insisted, crossing his arms in front of his chest.
“Thanks, Serge,” Jake sighed. He nervously scratched the back of his neck. Fuck, he thought, what if I made an absolute mess of things now? Captain Holt seemed to see his worry on his face still and laid a hand on his back, regarding him with a stern look.
“Listen to me, Jacob, I will put my own career on the line to protect yours, if that is what it needs. I cannot promise you that you won’t face hardships because of this, but I can promise you that you will come out stronger on the other side. And that we will be right there with you. Being who you are can never be wrong, son. And it will always reward you in the end.”
In retrospect, Jake was pretty sure he cried.
The next days and weeks at the Nine-Nine were the opposite of what Jake had expected: they were ordinary. He went to work with Amy in the mornings. They stole kisses when no one was looking and solved cases over lunch. He went on missions with Charles. He logged evidence with Terry and Rosa, which was terribly boring, but it was nicer when you got to do it with friends. He let Gina show him new dance moves. And he spent half an hour every day bothering the captain, and they both pretended they did not enjoy that.
Every now and then, he got a look from someone. But then again, he had always gotten those, because he was loud and annoying, and devastatingly handsome. And now he was unapologetically himself.
He leant against the wall, his morning coffee in hand. Charles was fighting with a printer across the bullpen. Rosa was taking a witness’ statement, notepad on her knees. Terry could be heard over in the briefing room, teaching a self-defence class. Gina was tweeting with one hand, shredding documents with the other. Captain Holt was in his office, having a meeting with the head of HR. Jake, sipping his coffee, spent a lot of time watching Amy highlight a case file in different markers. He smiled to himself. He loved them all, his heart full for his found family.
He smiled wider, and he knew he was okay.