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“…the cake is ordered, we’ve organized all the seating charts, the band has been booked, and we’ve got the perfect menu,” Amy says, pacing in the living room with her eyes glued to her list. “Am I forgetting anything?”
Jake is reclining on the couch, his feet up on the coffee table while Amy’s too focused to notice, and he smiles. “Nope, I think you got everything. Our wedding is officially planned.”
Amy stops pacing and meets Jake’s eyes, each of them with matching dorky smiles. “We are the best wedding planners in history.”
“Right? There’s still three weeks to go and everything is under wraps,” he says.
“We’re amazing,” she declares, high-fiving him triumphantly. She drops down next to him on the couch, curling up into his side and resting her head on his shoulder, and he immediately makes room and puts his arm around her, pulling her closer. Over the years, this has become one of their favourite positions; they often end up talking each other to sleep right on the couch, pressed into each other and as comfortable as they’ve ever been. Amy’s eyelids are already heavy just seconds after placing her head on Jake’s shoulder.
“Who do you think is going to cry at the wedding?” Jake asks, lifting his arm a little to start twirling his fingers in her hair.
“Charles for sure,” she says. “He almost starts crying every time you bring it up.”
“Yeah, definitely Charles. But Terry’s also a contender.”
“Terry loves love,” Amy murmurs, wrapping her arm around Jake’s stomach and snuggling closer.
She can hear Jake’s smile when he says, “Yeah, he does.”
“Maybe Holt will get emotional. When we announced the engagement, he actually had to clear his throat before he congratulated us.”
Jake whistles. “Wow. Maybe he’ll finally break out the waterworks at the wedding.”
“Guess we’ll see,” Amy says, and she lets the thought of peace lure her closer and closer to sleep. She listens to Jake’s steady breathing, and her arm rises and falls with his every inhale and exhale, and his hand is still playing with her hair, and everything is so perfect that she—
Her eyes snap open and she sits straight up, almost knocking her skull against Jake’s jaw.
Jake jolts forward, completely alert now. “Amy, what the hell?”
“I know what I forgot,” she tells him, her eyes wide and panicked. “I forgot to book dance lessons.”
Jake sinks back into the couch completely unfazed. “That’s no big deal. We’ve still got time.”
“No, we don’t,” she says and gets up off the couch to resume her wedding-crazed pacing. “We’ve both booked extra shifts for the next few weeks so we can take our honeymoon, so we’ll have no time in the evenings, and we’ve only got one weekend off before the wedding but we promised my parents we’d have dinner with them. We have no time for dance lessons!”
Jake stands now, too, and he takes both of Amy’s hands to stop her pacing. “Amy, I don’t know if you’re aware, but I am a fantastic dancer. I can teach you everything you need to know to survive our wedding night.”
Amy looks up, hopeful.
“Besides,” he continues, leading her to the kitchen, “You only need to dance well with me when everyone’s watching. I can teach you enough that you can make it through one dance.”
“I don’t know. I might need professional help.”
Jake smirks. “I can handle it.” He releases her hand and pulls out his phone. “You limber up, I’m going to pick the tunes.”
“You might as well make it the song we’ll be dancing to at the wedding,” she says, stretching her arms in an attempt to “limber up”.
“I’ve got something even better,” Jake says, and he grins mischievously when Cotton Eye Joe starts blasting from his phone.
“I will divorce you if you tell the band to play that,” she threatens.
Jake laughs. “Are you certain you want something sappy like Hold You in My Arms?”
“You’re just lucky I didn’t go with Charles’ ideas,” she says. “I was this close to picking a song from Moulin Rouge!” She crosses her arms. “Also, Ray LaMontagne is beautiful.”
Jake smiles again, his eyes crinkling, and their song starts to play as he slides his arm around her waist. “Shall we begin?”
Amy takes Jake’s hand and places the other on his shoulder. “We shall.”
The first seventeen seconds pass without a hitch, but then Jake tries to actually take a step instead of just swaying, and that’s when things take a turn. She steps on his foot and accidentally yanks the sock right off his foot, and then they both bend to pick it up and end up smashing skulls.
“Oh, God, are you okay?” she asks, rubbing her forehead and leaping away from Jake. It’s for his own safety.
“I’m fine,” he lies, trying not to wince from the pain. “Alright, lets try this again. Maybe we should lose the socks so that can’t happen again.”
They take off their socks and try again. This time, they almost get halfway through the song before Amy trips over her feet, and she ends up tumbling into Jake’s chest and they go down together.
“How can you be so clumsy and still be a kickass cop?” he asks, his mouth full of her hair.
“I’m only clumsy when I dance,” she growls, getting to her feet and reaching out a hand for Jake. “It’s annoying.”
“I think it’s adorable,” Jake replies and takes her hand. “Round three?”
Rounds three through twelve result in similar disasters, but by round thirteen Amy has got the hang of things. She’s able to sway to the music on beat, take a few steps without tripping or stepping on Jake, and she doesn’t even need to be staring down at her feet the whole time anymore.
“I think you’ve got it, Ames,” Jake says once they’ve danced through an entire song with no mishaps.
She beams at him, visibly proud of herself, and he grins back. Even though they could technically stop dancing now, they don’t. The music keeps replaying, so they keep swaying and dancing, their hands growing sweaty in each other’s grasps, but they barely notice.
Jake can’t help but think about the time years ago when they danced together undercover in that competition, and how much things have changed since then. Back then he was dancing with a girl who had a boyfriend, and he was only hours from running away for six months; he can still remember how he felt in that moment, like he’d been holding his breath ever since he realized he liked her and now he could finally breathe, and then she mentioned Teddy and brought him back down to earth. But now here he is with that same girl in his arms, and she’s and giving him a smile that’s just for him and no one else, and he’s about to marry her, and he’s never coming back down to earth again. Jake leans forward to plant a kiss right between her eyes, and she gives him another warm smile that somehow manages to make his stomach flutter, even after all these years.
“I’m glad I never ended up taking those lessons with Teddy,” she says. Jake is just happy to know that she’s thinking about that afternoon, too.
He tightens his grip on her waist, bringing her a little closer. “He wouldn’t have been as good as me anyways,” he says.
Amy’s eyes sparkle as she agrees. “No, he wouldn’t have.”
They keep dancing for a while longer, Amy’s head eventually finding its usual spot on Jake’s shoulder, and Jake’s hand climbs up to rest on her back. He makes lazy circles with his thumb on her back as they dance, and she turns her head so she can press her lips to his throat. She closes her eyes, breathing him in, and decides to give up all pretences of still dancing properly and hugs him instead. They stay wrapped up in each other until Jake starts to yawn and their toes get cold, and even then they don’t really want to stop.
It’s almost as good as their actual dance at their wedding, and dancing becomes one of Amy’s favourite things.