Work Text:
99th Precinct - Friday
6:07pm
AMY
Friday’s in the office always drag on and on. Usually less so at a police station, but still the time ticks away slowly. Everyone still in the 99th precinct works to get through the last of their paperwork. Surprisingly, the majority of cases have been closed, and the ones left open have been assigned and are being worked to death.
If it were any other day, Amy Santiago would be right there with them, carefully going through her reports and checking for any lingering errors before officially putting them away (not that there ever were any). Today, though, she’s conquering the biggest, most dangerous task of them all: asking Gina for a favor.
Gina Linetti, Captain Holt’s personal assistant, sits behind her desk, stationed directly behind Amy’s desk. Her phone blocks her view of the precinct before her, a further testament to her cold, uncaring and unbothered attitude. Strangely, Gina stands as a true vision of fearlessness.
Maybe Amy would be less nervous with someone else on the squad. Like…well, no. Now that she thinks about it, everyone else would also be terrifying, all for different reasons. Maybe not terrifying, but she’d be cautious around them.
Rosa Diaz: scary, a little short-tempered, and did she mention scary? Chales Boyle, while nice, was pretty weird. If you weren’t careful, you would end up having brunch at some weird place that serves horses. All of the horse. Sergeant Jeffords was nice, but he’s her boss. You never approach a boss unless it’s important. Hitchcock and Scully were just plain gross. And Peralta…he’s his own breed of annoying, in his weird little way.
All of that’s besides the point.
She approaches Gina’s desk cautiously. Gina scares her, but not in the Rosa way. Rosa is Rosa, mean, scary, yet somehow still nice. Nice-ish. Gina can’t physically hurt anyone, but her insults hurt worse than any physical harm Rosa could cause.
“Hey, Gina,” Amy says gently, almost as if she were talking to a child who she caught doing something bad, like coloring on the walls. Gina, for her part, doesn’t bat an eye at Amy, not even bothering to look up from her phone to acknowledge her presence. Typical Gina stuff, really. Amy powers through her ask. “I was, um, wondering if you could, maybe, possibly, help me with my makeup?”
Gina raises an eyebrow. “Makeup,” she says simply, though she clearly still sounds distracted.
“Yeah, I’m, uh, going out tonight — actually it’s the first night out I’m going on since like September — and I wanted to look…nice.”
Gina pauses for a moment, then puts down her phone entirely. Amy can’t help but tense; she expected a rejection and an underhanded comment, maybe a ‘yes,’ but getting Gina Linetti’s full attention? Oh no. Just, oh no.
“You’re going on a date tonight?” Gina asks. Amy nods, unsure of where the question will lead. She’s in too deep to backtrack, though. “With your mysterious ‘husband’ that no one here has ever met? Is that correct?”
“Uh—”
“For the first time ‘in a while.’ Is that correct?”
“Um, yes…?”
Gina hums, amused. She leans forward in her chair and says, “You know you don’t have to pretend you're married. It was funny at first but now it’s just sad. We all know he isn’t real, and you’re probably going out with some sad, pathetic, boring weirdo on a lame set-up by your equally boring friend Kylie.”
Even though Amy expected it, Gina’s overhanded and rude comment really hurt her feelings. And wasn’t even true. Amy does have a husband, a real one who she finds very interesting and exciting. And , fun bonus, Kylie only barely likes him.
Of course, she won’t tell Gina any of that. Amy’s private life is for her and her only. Gina doesn’t consider Amy a friend, so Amy won’t overshare. Simple as that.
“I guess I can find a YouTube video or something.”
“Ugh, fine, you don’t have to beg,” Gina groans. Amy frowns; she did none of those things. But Gina stands, walking around her desk and to the stairs.
“For the record, if you’re gonna do the whole ‘fake marriage’ scam, you gotta get a nicer ring. That way people don’t ask too many questions.”
Amy follows behind her, muttering, “Okay…”
Three years ago, Amy joined the detective squad at the 99th precinct. Exactly one year and three months into her tenure, she got married. On a Friday in May, she left early, and the next Monday she returned to work with a nice haircut, a tan, and two rings — a cute, modest engagement ring, and a simple wedding band.
Boyle was the first to notice, of course. He always asserted how cute Jake and Amy would be together, despite their insistence against it and the fact that they were both in committed relationships. Everyone vaguely believed Amy, though they never met her boyfriend-turned-husband. No one believed Jake, but that wasn’t a surprise. What was surprising was the fact that Charles passed out when he found out Amy was married to someone who wasn’t Jake (because of the wasted potential…he apologized later for the insensitivity, don’t worry).
By the end of the morning briefing ( literally forty minutes after she got to work) the entire bullpen knew Amy had gotten secretly married over the weekend.
Amy never brought up her partner for two reasons: one, she didn’t really want to share her personal life with people who make fun of all the things she likes, and two, they would definitely judge him. As much as she loves him, she’d never put him through her coworkers' relentless teasing. But, a part of the protection meant never talking about him, never having any pictures of him or the two of them anywhere — not even a contact picture! She saved all of them for their apartment (interior design and personalized decoration is her jam ).
Continuing her trend of secrecy, she refused to share details about her wedding. No pictures, no guest list details, not even if she took his name. They got nothing out of her.
Luckily, people stopped talking about her getting married after a few weeks. Unluckily, they all started thinking she was faking the whole thing. Why would she fake getting married? No idea. Of the stupid rumors, the few that made sense were for attention (unlikely), to stop getting teased about being a prude by Gina and Peralta (very likely), or to stop other officers from hitting on her (i.e. the Vulture).
The joke never died. But, she knew it’d be way worse if she told them his name. And while they were all nosy, they respected her privacy enough not to pry.
Lucky for her, Peralta challenged her to the biggest bet of their careers a few months later. A bet to see who the better cop was. As soon as they started competing, people started to forget about the marriage scandal. So all was good: everyone stopped prying into her private life, and she got the chance to show off how awesome of a detective she was.
Despite her weirdness and rudeness and tendency to speak her mind, Gina can be pretty nice. She’s also the only person on the floor who Amy would trust doing her makeup (considering it’s between Gina, Rosa, and the prostitutes in holding, and the last two options scare Amy). Amy trusts Gina, at least a little. So when they return to the bullpen almost an hour later, Amy fights down her nerves because Gina wouldn’t purposely make her look bad.
Maybe she would. But hopefully not today.
Gina had done her makeup a little more…dramatic, then Amy was used to, and brushed her hair and fixed her part and even convinced her to change into her date night clothes (maybe it was a simple red dress with a modest neckline, but she likes it, which is all that matters).
Their coworkers on the day shift have already started packing up. Amy hopes she can grab her purse and leave without anyone noticing. Gina seems to have lost interest in Amy’s whole deal, and Rosa and Terry are distracted at Terry’s desk with what sounds like an already-filed report issue. Lucky bastards. Amy loves correcting others' errors.
The elevator doors ‘ding’ open, and Peralta and Boyel walk through the bullpen, loudly announcing the capture of their drug dealer — the one who’s coke’s been laced with fentanyl, who they’ve been chasing all week. She ignores them, collecting her purse and phone and cleaning up her desk. If she wants to skip out unnoticed, she has to wait for Peralta to be turned around and preoccupied, kind of like Rosa and Terry.
He and Boyle go to put their perp in the holding cell, and Amy bolts. Well, she doesn’t run, but she basically does. With her bag slung over her shoulder and her head turned down, she calls out, “Goodnight everyone,” walking briskly to the elevators.
She doesn’t even make it to the gate. Peralta lets out a low whistle, a sound that sends involuntary heat flooding through her face. From the attention. “ Day-um , Santiago. Looking good!”
Despite herself, she blushes hard(er). Their other detectives look at her curiously. She lifts her head and eyes him furiously. Before she can think of a snarky (yet clever!) retort, Rosa practically materializes behind her, letting out a chuckle that makes Amy jump. “Damn indeed, Santiago. Hot date tonight?”
Now, everyone looks at her, waiting for a response. She clears her throat and straightens her back. Jake wouldn’t embarrass her, despite the stupid goofy smirk and his stupid raised eyebrow, as if he’s challenging her or something. She refuses to let him win. “Not that it’s anyone’s business, but yes, I do have a hot date,” she shoots Peralta a glare that almost makes him blush. “My husband and I both have the night off for the first time in the past few months, so we’re celebrating.”
From her desk across the room, Gina calls, “Your imaginary husband, right?”
Amy rolls her eyes. “He’s real.”
“You won’t even tell us his name!” Peralta shouts, as if he’s not three feet from her. He leans back against the wall, a stupid, satisifed smirk on his face.
Amy rolls her eyes again, this time directed at Jake. She switches to a smile, a sickeningly sweet, kind of condescending smile, and responds, “And I never will.” She turns and heads to the elevator, crossing the gate and calling back, “See you guys Monday!”
She leaves, not noticing Peralta staring intently after her. Or the redness that crawls up his neck, tinting his ears and even dusting his cheeks. As he watches her leave.
But Gina notices. Even from far away, she can read the stench of a desperate man. She has the decency to wait until the elevator doors close to call him out, grabbing her bag and crossing the bullpen, joining Rosa and Terry at the latter’s desk (you know, for a proper audience). She doesn’t, however, have the decency to be kind with her words.
The elevator doors close, and after a beat, Gina practically screams out, “Damn Jake, you’re thirsty as hell!”
He whips back around, his cheeks flaming red, but Gina doesn’t stop there. “You look like a sad kicked puppy in the rain who just got his food stolen.”
“Ha!” Rosa laughs, high-fiving Gina.
Jake stutters in response, but Gina beats him to the punch. “As much as I pity the poor, sad, desperate fool Amy’s married to, she’s still married, dude.”
“Although Jake and Amy would be the best power couple!” Charles chimes.
“She’s married, dude,” Rosa says.
“Jake is a lot of things, but he’d never be the other woman,” Gina says. “Ignoring the fact that he doesn’t have the gall, he couldn’t nail a married woman if he tried.”
“Okay, ouch,” Jake finally says. “I could absolutely get a married woman. Especially Santiago! I’m like the golden retriever of people.”
Rosa smirks, crossing her arms over her chest. “Santiago’s allergic to dogs,” she says, poking fun at his metaphor.
“And if anything, you’re like a border terrier mixed with a feisty lil’ chihuahua,” Gina says.
“Oh yeah, I can definitely see that,” Rosa agrees.
Sergeant Jeffords, who for his part hadn’t participated in the conversation, grabs his bag and coat and walks around his desk. “This is not the time or place to be discussing this. Terry wants to go home!”
“But making fun of Jake is so fun,” Gina says.
“Charles thinks I can do it, right Charles?”
Jake holds out his hand for a high-five, and Charles, ever the sucker, does it. “Hell yeah!”
“What’s more, I’ll bet I can do it.” Jake grins proudly. If Amy were here, she’d have been super proud of his syntax.
Instead of the round of cheers he expected, everyone around him groans. Even Charles, his near-permanent hype-man. For most people, that would be a sign that he just had a really bad idea. Not for Jake. “Aw c’mon guys! It’ll be fun!”
“You're betting on Amy’s marriage, which is not fun,” Rosa points out.
Jake blissfully ignores her, a habit he thinks everyone loves. “I bet I can make Santiago fall in love with me by…Valentine’s Day.”
Rosa snorts, while Gina just gapes at him. “That’s in three weeks, you idiot!” She slaps his shoulder, and Jake gasps.
“Ow!” He huffs. “I can do it. You guys weren’t there on our ‘worst date ever.’ There were sparks .” He wiggles his fingers, adding pizzazz to the word.
“You spent thirteen thousand dollars and ended up at a stakeout,” Rosa points out.
“Sparks! See, Rosa gets it.”
“Nope. But I do wanna see you crash and burn. I’m in.”
“Even better! What do you want?”
“Your murders. All of them.”
“You can’t bet cases,” Terry points out.
Jake claps his hands together, grinning widely. “We just did! Rosa, if you win, you get all my open murders. And when I win—“
Rosa snorts in disbelief.
“You will host me and my newly acquired lover, Amy Santiago, at your apartment for dinner.”
Rosa considers the proposition, then nods, a slight grin on her face. “Fine. You’re on.”
Jake pumps a fist in the air triumphantly. “How ‘bout you, Gina? You want—”
“Ten grand.”
“ Ten grand?”
Gina nods, ignoring Jake’s blanched look. “There’s no way you can pull this off, even if Amy didn’t hate being around you, and this way I can buy the good quality sequence for Floorgasm. They’ve earned it I guess and whatever.”
“Okay…” Jake turns, raising his eyebrow at Charles. “What’d’ya say, Boyle? You think I can do it?”
Charles, for his part, looks worried. He’d never say anything around Amy, but back when Amy first joined the 99, he had secretly (not very secretly) hoped the two of them would get together. That hope naturally fizzled out. Mostly after Amy got married. But mostly because Jake and Amy rarely hung around each other. They barely got assigned as partners. Outside of their less than friendly rivalry and their desk bubble, they didn’t interact. Plus Amy’s married!
“I’m staying out of this,” Charles decides.
“Boo!”
“Yeah, boo!” Rosa and Gina call.
Charles waves them off, walking to his desk to finish the paperwork on his and Jake’s drug dealer. Jake, meanwhile, turns to Terry again. “You want in, Sarge? I wanna be first in line for the new department car.”
“No. This is a bad idea.” Terry laments.
“Don’t be such a buzz-kill, Terry!”
“Yeah Terry!” Gina shouts.
“I’m going home. Something you all need to do.” he glares at each and every one of them, then turns and heads to the elevators, muttering under his breath something about ‘stupid childish bets.’
“Terry’s a dud! You guys are on and in three short weeks I will be rich and Rosa’s best friend!” Jake springs forward from his perch. “Boyle you good on paperwork? I’m gonna go home and scheme!”
He runs out before he can get an answer, catching the elevator with Terry before the doors close.
Morning Briefing - Monday
8:52am
18 DAYS LEFT
ROSA
Monday morning, Rosa arrives at the precinct first. Jeffords gets in next, thirteen minutes after her. Amy and Charles show up twenty and twenty-three minutes later, in that order. Holt arrives five minutes after Charles, a solid eight minutes before the morning briefing.
Like every other day, Amy gathers her notepad and pens (one black, one blue, one red for underlines and circles, all clickable) and walks briskly into the briefing room. She’s like a beacon to the other officers and detectives to start making their way in.
Rosa follows behind Amy, taking a seat at the table directly behind the office teacher’s pet. She kicks her feet up onto the table, blocking off the seat next to her so no one can join her. And by no one, she means Charles. He’d either want to talk about whatever restaurant he discovered the past weekend, or joke about his two butt holes, or worse, try to impress her by saying or doing something one hundred percent not impressive.
She feels Amy glance back at her, but the other woman doesn’t say anything. As much as it bothered her that Rosa slouched and had her feet up and was completely dejected from the meeting, Amy would never tell her what to do. She did once, which ended in a nasty snarl and a ton of chair kicking. Rosa may be mean, but she’d never physically harm her main ally. More than necessary, at least.
More cops file into the briefing room. Rosa spends the downtime before Holt arrives thinking about her cases. Most of her remaining cases are cakewalks. Ample DNA, solid suspects, all the good things. She should have an easy morning, unless she gets assigned something new this morning. Maybe a murder, a nice murder to a rich Brooklyn elite with a standoffish family and a suspicious wife.
Oh yeah, that’d be nice.
The chair next to her scrapes against the floor. Rosa’s head snaps up, ready to growl at whoever decided they could sit next to her (unless, of course, it was Gina), but freezes when she sees Jake.
Chronically late Jake. Here. Sitting in the briefing room with four minutes to spare. Four whole minutes. The same Jake who had never once in the time she’s known him been on time.
Not only is he early, but he’s clean. He already shed his jackets, which means she gets a clear view of his unwrinkled, fully buttoned and unstained plaid shirt, with a matching tie properly knotted hanging just under his badge. And he got a haircut .
Oh, did she mention he’s on time. For work. Yeah.
He turns to her and smiles. “Morning Rosa! Nice weekend?”
She narrows her eyes at him suspiciously, but then something else catches her attention. She scrunches her nose in disgust, groaning, “Gross, dude, are you wearing cologne?”
“That my friend is the smell of a well-reviewed body soap, that is not three-in-one, might I add,” Jake boasts proudly.
Amy turns around at that, eyes blown wide. “Did you just use ‘well’ and ‘might I add’ casually in a sentence?”
Jake grins wider, even sitting up straight. “Indeed I did, Santiago.”
Amy lets out a soft, almost inaudible “oh,” that, if Rosa didn’t know Amy, would’ve sounded like a moan or something. But Amy Santiago would never, ever moan at work, especially not as a result of something Jake said. Her cheeks do get very pink, and she turns around rapidly, abruptly ending the conversation.
Jake looks over at Rosa, catching her confused, mostly suspicious stare, and grins. A wide, overly-confident grin. He then mouths to her, “ In the bag .”
He might actually win this thing. Rosa always thought he had the potential, but honestly counted on Amy’s goody-two-shoes nature to seal the deal in her favor. Amy’s too much of a rule-following, kind of pretentious, almost frigid goody-goody to cheat on someone. Even with Jake actively working to seduce her, and it kind of working.
Would Jake actually pull this off? A better question: would she actually have to let Jake into her apartment? Just the thought of that makes her shudder.
99th Precinct - Thursday
11:13am
15 DAYS LEFT
Like any self-respecting adult, Rosa likes to sneak off on her lunch break and get food somewhere actually good where she won’t see anyone she knows. Earlier that week, she ended up stuck in line with Gina for six whole minutes. And then, she had to walk back with her. Worst ten minutes of her life.
She slips out of the office early, intent on getting out of the garage before anyone notices she’s gone. She walks through the seemingly empty garage, getting to her bike quickly. And without running into anyone. That’s a big deal, considering how chatty everyone at the nine-nine is.
She goes to put on her helmet, when she hears them. Them as in Santiago and Peralta, walking through the garage and… arguing ?
Honest, Rosa gives less than a rat’s ass about what they’re talking about. All she can currently focus on is the fresh plate of arroz con pollo waiting across town that she will absolutely devour. But she does sometimes like eavesdropping. She never does anything with the information, and she hates gossiping, but being nosy is pretty enjoyable a solid twenty percent of the time.
“Why can’t I go to lunch with you?” Jake whines. “It’s just hoogies, super not romantic.”
Rosa nearly forgot about the bet. Jake hasn’t done anything super big or dramatic since that Monday. He did manage to show up on time most of the week, always with a clean shirt and a crisp tie, but he and Amy still interacted minimally. Seems like a pretty big jump from ‘follow proper work procedures’ to ‘not-a-date dates.’
“Hoogies are never romantic,” Amy says matter-of-factly, “and I just don’t think it's a good idea! Which is reason enough. Don’t you have work to do anyway? You were bragging five minutes ago about all the ‘juicy murderers bro.’” She says the last part in a mockingly deep, surfer-dude voice. Her Jake impression, if you will.
“We never hang out anymore, Ames. It’ll be fun.”
Amy groans. She says something, but it’s too quiet and too far for Rosa to properly hear. She does pick up the tail end of it, Amy saying, “Another time. Sorry.”
Their conversation doesn’t pick back up after that. Rosa sits and waits, listening to the sounds of their fading footsteps until they stop and she’s sure she can slip out without catching anyone’s attention.
99th Precinct - (STILL) Thursday
4:43pm
“Gina.”
The other woman hums in response, her eyes not leaving her phone. She doesn’t even glance away to properly eat her bag of chips.
Rosa leans back against the break room counter. “You think Jake has a chance?”
“No he will never find a woman to love him or be financially stable enough to get a real car. Adulthood is not his thing.”
“I meant the bet.”
“Mm, still no. This office is filled with sad and desperate white boys trying to get straight tens. Well in Amy’s case, seven and a half.”
Rosa scrunches up her nose. Most days she forgets that Boyle has a thing for her. Ignoring the problem is better than doing something about it, if she’s being honest. Especially Boyle related problems.
“Jake may be charming, but you can’t charm a brick wall, such as Amy Santiago,” Gina says. “And when Jake can’t pay up, I will have my very own personal assistant who can skirt the law at my beck and call.”
Rosa’s mouth twitches into a frown. “That’s illegal.”
“The law is up for interpretation, Rosita.”
Rosa frowns, then turns and exits the break room. That’s enough Gina for today, she decides.
Bullpen - Tuesday
10:12am
10 DAYS LEFT
GINA
Gina glances up at the sound of the captain’s door opening. Not because she has the slightest interest in what’s going on or why Holt’s calling the detectives to his office one by one. She looks because Jake went a few minutes ago, and she’s been waiting all day to mock him. Technically she’s been waiting since Friday, after she watched him get curved, hard , by Amy. But she doesn’t come in on weekends.
It was objectively hilarious. Jake asking Amy out the drinks, and Amy turning and immediately inviting the whole bullpen along too. And Jake’s face! He looked like a kicked puppy who just got his treat taken away.
Actually, no. She’s done way too many puppy metaphors lately, especially about Jake. He looked like a kid who was about to leave for a pool day as a dark storm cloud rolled in. Yeah, that’s more like it.
Jake leans against the edge of her desk and asks. “What are you all smiley about?”
“You losing.”
“Ouch.” He turns his head and calls, “You’re up, Santiago. Make me proud!”
Amy rolls her eyes, getting up and walking briskly into the captain’s office.
“I think you somehow managed to make her hate you more . Kudos, Jake.”
“She doesn’t hate,” he says simply.
“When you lose does that mean I’ll own your soul? Considering the last time you owed someone money I ended up buying your apartment and becoming your landlady.”
Jake rolls his eyes. “That was five years ago. You’re not even my landlord anymore! Which proves I’m financially capable. And , I will not lose. Amy’s going to break.”
“That’s no bueno because I already bought the maid outfit. And just a warning, it’s hella skimpy.”
Jake's expression turns sour. Which, yay, she successfully got on his nerves. Next, get in his head. Finally, psyche him out until he crumbles under the pressure, loses the bet and becomes her very own personal assistant.
“Okay, bye-bye now. No loitering.”
“Ssh, I’m waiting for Amy.”
“If you keep bothering her she’s gonna file a complaint.” Gina pauses, then adds excitedly, “Oh! Keep bothering! Then it’s a guaranteed win!”
Jake just scoffs, rolling his eyes. Holt’s door opens and Jake immediately perks up, a bright grin stretching his features.
“That was fast.”
Amy smirks. “Less than three minutes. Record time.” And then she winks. Or does what looks like a wink. Or maybe Gina smoked a ton of crack because there’s no way Amy Santiago said something flirty to Jake and winked. No way! No way. No way.
Amy struts past him, leaving Jake staring in wonder into space. What did she just witness? Does Amy…not hate Jake flirting with her? Did she really just flirt back? Is Jake actually going to win?
“What the hell was that?”
Jake looks at her and smiles. “The sight of me winning, my friend.” He pushes himself off her desk, walking back to his desk hub.
Gina feels as if she just entered a parallel universe. Jake didn’t even make a sex tape joke! Oh god, this just got serious. Very, very serious. She might actually need to cough if ten grand.
Bullpen - Thursday
10:57pm
8 DAYS LEFT
Rosa finishes her screwing on the front door, while Amy tightens something else on the window pane. When they stopped on their way home at the mini-mart, Gina didn’t really pay attention to what they bought. She did buy a bottle of whiskey, due to the incredibly stressful week she’s had. Getting robbed will do the craziest thing, like buy hard liquor which she only barely likes.
Well, she knows Rosa likes whiskey. And Amy will suck it up and drink with them, because Gina bought alcohol to celebrate their absolute girlboss-ery, and Amy’s going to deal with it.
“Okay,” Rosa says, crossing the room, “we installed a second lock on your front door, put locks on the windows by the fire escape, and set all your lights on timers.”
“That makes me feel so much better. Thank you, guys. And as a token of my appreciation, I would like to give you…” Gina turns, grabbing two spandex leotards from her clothes rack, “These.”
“Oh, great!”
“The cool thing is you can eat whatever you want. These are right there with you.”
“Yay,” Amy says, her excitement strained.
Gina smiles. She puts them back on the rack, turning and walking to her kitchen. “Before you go, drinks! Come on ladies.”
The two detectives start to protest, but Gina already pulls down three glasses from her shelf. She turns around, practically slamming them onto her counter and proclaiming, “I got whiskey bitches!”
Rosa crosses the room first, Amy close behind her. Gina fills each glass a third of the way, then puts the bottle down to the side. “A toast.” They each grab a glass, following Gina’s lead as she lifts her glass in the air. “To kickass women, such as us.”
“Such as ourselves,” Amy corrects.
“Do you want to be a part of this or not, nerd?”
Amy clams up, and Gina smiles. “As I was saying, you bitches rock. I mean you suck at your jobs and can’t catch a criminal for shit, but you still rock.” She ignores their grimances, and finishes her toast with, “To us.”
“To us,” Rosa and Amy repeat. They clink their glasses together, then take a drink. The drink burns on its way down, but Gina doesn’t mind it much.
Amy pulls a face, shaking her head, making Gina chuckle. She puts down her glass and sucks in a deep breath of air. “Okay, that was fun, but I do have to drive home,” Amy says.
“Don’t be a dud, we’re hanging out. This is a once in a lifetime opportunity for you, Amy. You may never get to hang around such cool people again.”
“We work together everyday,” Amy points out.
“Circumstantial.” Gina says, and Rosa gives a slight nod in agreement.
Amy rolls her eyes. “Fine, but can I have a water then? I’m driving.”
“You can't just ask your husband to drive you home?” Rosa asks.
Amy stiffens and shouts, “No!” making the other two women jump. “I-I mean, no. He's busy. Early morning tomorrow. Stuff like that. Mh, yeah.” and then, to stop herself from rambling further, she takes a slow sip from her glass.
“Mhm,” Rosa muses, clearly unconvinced.
“You know, most of the time I assume he isn’t real,” Gina says. “Considering no one has ever met him, you never talk about him, and he’s not on your facebook.”
“You go on my facebook?”
“To snoop, don’t get excited. Anyway, everything you just said makes him seventy percent less real.”
“Well, I don’t use facebook. Everyone important has my number, so if they want to know about my life, or my very real husband, they can just ask.”
“Okay.” Rosa puts her glass down, squaring her shoulders to Amy. “We wanna meet your husband.”
Despite perfectly setting it up, Amy is completely thrown off by the request. “Y-You can’t,” she stammers. “He’s out of town. Darn.”
“You just said he had an early morning,” Rosa points out. Amy pales, looking away from them and back to her drink.
Gina claps her hands together, leaning forward. “See this is why everyone thinks you’re making him up!”
“He’s…shy. And…super anxious. And you guys can be a bit harsh.” Amy shrugs. “Plus the whole police stuff makes him…”
“Nervous?” Rosa supplies.
“Yeah that.” Amy nods her head awkwardly. “So, I’m just gonna go. Home to him.”
“Can we at least get a name? Since he’s ‘so real,’ you know?” Gina asks.
“Um…” Her eyes wander, then she says, “Fridge-el-ton. J-Johnny Fridgelton. Yeah, that’s his name.”
Rosa snorts, muttering, “Okay,” as she takes another drink of her whiskey.
“It’s okay, Baby Ames, you did your best,” Gina says. “So since your husband isn’t real, can we talk about the weird, gross sexual tension between you and Jake because I hate it.”
Amy’s eyes go wide, but instead of answering she slams back the rest of her drink. Gina and Rosa watch her with wide-eyed horror. So much for driving home.
Amy sets her glass down, wincing slightly at the lingering taste in her mouth. “Top me off?”
“Okay…” Gina turns, grabbing the bottle and refilling Amy’s glass. Amy downs her drink again, then gasps (albeit dramatically). Maybe it was actually a gag. It’s a weird noise, which is what matters.
“Well this was fun but I gotta go! See you guys tomorrow!” Amy puts her glass down, grabs her purse and leaves.
Gina sighs, taking another sip of her drink. “What a weirdo,” she muses. Rosa nods her agreement.
99th Precinct: Locker Room - Thursday
11:41pm
8 DAYS LEFT
CHARLES
Charles changes out of his gym clothes and back to his office clothes. The steroid bust went down pretty much as planned. Minus the sergeant showing up and taking over the bust, but not the paperwork. That is all up to Charles and Jake. Probably Charles. It’s Jake’s case, Charles’ is just the secondary.
A phone rings loudly in the empty locker room. Charles looks over at Jake, who answers his ringing phone quickly.
“Hey what’s — oh, you sound drunk. Oh you are drunk. Okay, okay.” The person on the other end — a woman, at Charles’s best guess — either talks way too loud or the phone volume is way too high. Either way, Jake fliches, pulling his phone away from his ear to momentarily put the volume down.
“Sorry, say that again.” Jake nods along as the woman talks. Charles doesn’t even pretend he isn’t trying to eavesdrop. Since when did Jake get random calls from women at almost midnight? Exactly. Charles loves Jake, he really does, but he hasn’t been doing so well in the relationship department. Especially since he’s set his sights on breaking up Amy’s marriage. Luckily, the whole thing would be over in a week. Then Charles could try to set him up with someone awesome, but attainable. Like his cousin Marta.
Jake looks over at Charles. He’s nodding along to whatever the other person says, turning away from Charles. Like he doesn’t want to risk Charles overhearing him. Weird.
“No, don’t get a cab,” Jake says into the phone. “You’re only a few blocks away. I’ll duck out early and drive you home.”
Bad news, Charles was definitely getting stuck with paperwork tonight. Good news, things just got interesting. Jake had to be talking to someone important. He didn’t have any sisters, and he definitely didn’t retain any friends from high school. Charles is pretty sure he doesn’t have any cousins, at least none in the city.
A secret lover, perhaps?
“Yeah, we got back to the precinct a little bit ago. I’ll tell you all about it on the drive, promise.” Jake smiles to himself, then says softly, “Alright, bye.”
He hangs up the phone, and Charles jumps into action. He wants — no, he needs details. Name, date of birth, criminal record, credit report. Everything . He’s a very passionate friend.
“Who was that? What was that?” Charles asks.
“Oh, uh, old friend.” Jake pockets his phone. “She needs a ride home. No biggie”
“An old friend? How come I’ve never heard of her?” Charles gasps. “Are you seeing someone? Have you kissed? Have you frenched ? Oh god, have you shampooed her hair!?”
“Jesus Charles,” Jake groans. “No, no, and god no. Just a friend, who…knew she was close by and called for help. That’s it.”
“That’s it?”
“Yeah.” Jake closes his locker.
“You don’t get all smiley when you talk to me! I’m having a hard time believing that was just a friend.”
Jake doesn’t respond to his statement. Instead, he asks, “You good on the paperwork tonight? Just get the guys through processing, I can finish the case files in the morning.”
“Uh, yeah, I guess.”
“Great! I’ll see you in the morning, Boyle!” Jake rushes out of the locker room. Charles stares after him, deep in thought.
A good friend would head up to the bullpen, finish the paperwork, and go home. Maybe bug Jake in the morning about the mystery lady on the phone. A great friend would snoop now, get all the juicy details, and confront him in the morning. Charles Boyle is not a good friend. He is a great, nosy, friend.
So he follows him.
Bullpen - Monday
9:33am
4 DAYS LEFT
Boyle gets called away as backup Friday morning. And then he doesn’t see Jake again until Monday morning. Monday. Morning . Boyle stupidly had the weekend off, which meant he had to sit on the biggest news of his life. Yes, even bigger than his marriage, and even bigger than his divorce. Even bigger than getting shot! It’s huge!
Monday morning, Jake walks in on time. Jake shows up on time now, ever since he initiated the silly bet (the now pointless silly bet). It’s normal now.
Strangely, he and Amy walk into the bullpen together. Jake must have tried his hand at flirting with her (again) on the way up from the garage. Jake may be determined on getting Amy to fall in love with him, but he only had four more days, and Charles knew it wouldn’t happen. Especially because of Jake’s big secret that Charles spent the whole weekend struggling to keep to himself.
Charles gives Jake two point five seconds to set his bag down and get settled in, then rushes over, oozing with excitement.
“You liar!” Charles exclaims, a bit too loudly.
Jake frowns. “What? What’re you talking about?”
“Last week. When you got that call from the mystery woman. You said she was just an old friend but I see you two making out in the garage! Jakey’s got a secret girlfriend!”
Jake’s eyes go wide. He immediately hushes Boyle, frantically looking around the room. “Boyle, caI’m down,” he whisper-yells. “I don’t have a ‘secret girlfriend.’ My mom’s friend’s daughter called, and we hugged . That’s it.”
“Mhm, sure ,” Charles says. “When’d you meet? How’d you meet? How long have you been together? If you’ve got a secret girlfriend why are you so obsessed with Amy? Can I be your best man? If you say no I will die .” Charles gasps for air.
“Charles, breathe. I am 100% single. And, I’m going to win the bet.” Despite already whispering, he adds the last part even quieter.
“But—“
Captain Holt walks out of his office and announces, “Peralta, Boyle, my office,” effectively cutting Charles off. Jake grins, patting his friend on the shoulder. Then he side steps him, heading into the captain’s office. Charles frowns at his friend. He doesn’t get why he’s lying, but he will prove it. He knows what he saw.
Bullpen - Friday
9:02am
VALENTINE’S DAY
JAKE
For the first time in three weeks, Jake shows up to work late. Charles, who’s convinced Jake has a secret lover, would probably assume he’s out making a sweet, super-special breakfast for her. Despite the fact that Jake is almost a worse cook than Amy (emphasis on almost , he’s not that bad). The bet ends today, and by the end of the day he will be richer and Rosa Diaz’s best friend. He also no longer needs to put effort into impressing Amy. Despite only having a few hours left, he knows exactly how to get her to admit out loud that she loves him. Plus, he needed to make a quick stop before heading into work.
He arrives at the precinct approximately twenty minutes late, walking too casually for someone so late (he’s been later, plus he warned Holt this time). He walks through the elevator doors proudly, his work bag slung over his left shoulder and a large bouquet of red roses and baby’s breath in his right hand.
“Good morning coworkers, happy Valentine’s Day!” he proclaims. Everyone looks up at him, some eyebrows going up in a mix of amusement and slight annoyance. Jake ignores the annoyed ones, as per usual. “I come bearing gifts for you all.”
He skips over Hitchcock and Scully, going straight to Terry’s desk. He pulls a rose from the bundle and places it on his desk, saying, “A rose for you, Sarge.” Jake ignores the sergeant's narrowed-eye, suspicious look. He goes around the bullpen, giving a rose to Charles, then Rosa, then Gina.
Then finally, he gets to Amy and smiles sweetly. “And for you, my sweet, the whole bouquet.”
Amy tries to cover her smile and blush with an eye roll. She takes the flowers from him, saying, “Thanks.”
“I got you something else too,” he boosts. Amy, like everyone else, eyes him suspiciously, but all he says in response is, “Check your email.”
Amy frowns, turning back to her computer. Jake watches with bated breath as she pulls up her email. It takes several long, torturous seconds for her to read, then reread, the body text. Then she gasps. “Oh my god! Oh my god !” She looks at Jake frantically, a wide, shocked smile on her face. “Is this real? Like really real?”
Jake grins. Outside of the bet, he really does love flirting with her and doing things that impress her. She’s great, and deserves to be treated like it too.
“Yeah it is!” he exclaims.
“Oh my god I love you!” She jumps up and launches herself at him, throwing her arms around his neck. Jake jumps, but laughs, letting her pepper his jaw with kisses.
Behind them, they hear Rosa say, “What the hell.” Amy freezes in his arms.
The bet. Or, well, bets, not that either party knew about the rivaling bet. Both bets that Jake just won, by the way. Amy pulls away, clearing her throat and straightening her blazer while Jake turns around, grinning widely. He is a genius.
“And that, my friends, is how you win a bet,” he boasts.
Rosa and Gina stare at them in complete shock. “What the hell,” Rosa repeats.
Jake moves to the center of the room, dragging Amy with him. She drags her feet, but doesn’t protest. Finally they stop, Jake casually throwing his arm around her shoulder and gently nudging her. “Babe, wanna explain?”
“Babe?” Gina mutters.
Amy sighs, lifting her head. “Jake is my…husband. We are married.”
“Hells yeah we are!”
Amy rolls her eyes. “After our bet on the felony cases, we made another bet on who could make the other slip up at work first.”
Amy stops there, leaving the room in almost complete silence. They all must be too stunned by Jake’s awesomeness. His ability to win two separate bets in one move, completely astounding. If Holt were here, he’d definitely say, ‘ Peralta, you’re a genius.’ Crazy part is, he can hear it too.
After a long silence, Rosa finally bellows, “ What !?”
Jake grins proudly. He pulled off the greatest scheme in the history of schemes. He honestly can’t wait to go home and brag about it with Amy. Gloat is a more accurate word, but still. Meanwhile, Amy, still clueless to the second bet, nods her head. “Since he won, I had to admit that we are, in fact, married.” She looks over at Jake, a small smile spreading over her face. “Not that that’s a bad thing.”
Jake would love to soak in the moment, but before he can, Rosa shouts, “What the hell ? Jake! ”
Which, yeah. He almost forgot that people may be mad to know they fell victim to his latest scheme, that he played them better than the conniest con-man. Gina, while still baffled and confused (and, from the looks of it, a little disgusted), doesn’t have an angry bone in her body. Rosa is all anger, all the time. It’s a bit of a problem, actually. A problem Jake forgot to take into consideration while scheming his big reveal. Uh-oh.
He takes that as his cue, ducking behind Amy. Everyone knows Amy is Rosa’s favorite, hence why Jake uses his wife as a human shield. “What’s going on?” Amy asks.
“Nothing dear!”
Gina chimes in. “What’s going on is that Jake bet us he could make you fall in love with him by Valentine’s Day! I’m out ten grand ‘cause he cheated!”
Amy steps away from him (he’s screwed), turns around and crosses her arms (he’s screwed), an amused yet serious frown on her face (he’s so screwed). “Is that so, Jake?”
She stares him down along with Rosa and Gina. he knows no one will come to his rescue, and his gloating will have to wait a few days because yikes he is screwed. Despite being scared, he doesn’t run. Instead, he gives a sheepishly smile and says, “Happy Valentine’s Day?”