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It had been a long, hard day. The kind that set into his bones, that weighed down on his chest. Jake drove home in relative silence, with Amy looking out the window in the passenger seat, both too tired to be able to have a proper conversation. The last couple hours had been full of mind-numbing paperwork, staring bleary-eyed at screens covered in letters that blurred together, too-loud chatter stabbing at his brain as he tried and failed to focus. Before that, it had been harrowing, life-threatening chase scenes. They’d caught the criminal, but that didn’t get rid of the fact that people had gotten injured. They still hadn’t gotten word on whether one of the civilians that got shot would even survive.
Jake kept his eyes on the road, trying to ignore how his chest felt tight. It was all part of the job, he knew. But it never got easier.
He rested his forehead on the cool doorframe as Amy fiddled with the keys to their apartment, closing his eyes. Amy always had her keys. Jake forgot his half the time. At least he hadn’t lost them in a while. Amy had made sure of that, making him clip his keys onto his belt, even buying him a Die Hard keychain so he’d pay more attention to them. He fidgeted with the little Nakatomi Plaza charm as Amy finally got the door open. There was a trick to it; you had to push in, then up, then jiggle it before you could open it. Jake was better at it, but Amy was still always the one who opened the door. He didn’t know how that had happened, but it just did. It was simply their routine.
They entered, and Jake flopped face first onto the couch, groaning loudly and dramatically. He felt Amy pull his shoes off of his feet.
“What are you thinking for dinner?” she asked.
“Oh damn, I forgot about that.” Now that she mentioned it, he was actually pretty hungry. He’d skipped breakfast as usual, and he’d worked through lunch; he was pretty sure the only thing he’d had to eat that day was half a pack of gummy worms he’d found in his desk. Charles would gasp theatrically and force him to eat a granola bar or something if he found out. “I’m down for whatever,” he said to Amy.
“What’s in the fridge?” Amy said, probably to herself. He felt her move away towards the kitchen.
The fridge in Jake and Amy’s apartment was mostly full of leftovers, sweet things Jake insisted on getting when they went to the grocery store, and a few fresh fruits and vegetables that Amy kept trying in vain to get him to eat. Not much cooking got done in their household, since they were both pretty terrible chefs, Amy in particular. Once, the food she made was bad enough to make Charles cry. She’d kind of stopped trying after that. Jake wasn’t much better than she was; he couldn’t make anything more complicated than a microwaved meal or maybe some eggs or a sandwich. They mostly ordered food or had simple Jake meals, except when Charles took it upon himself to feed them, something he did at random intervals. Every now and then he’d randomly send Jake home with an armful of tupperware, and he and Amy would spend a week or two eating real food, as Charles would call it. But at the moment, the fridge was full of old chinese takeout and ice cream.
“I think we’ve still got some leftover fried rice from a few days ago,” called Jake, still face down on the couch.
“Here it is,” said Amy. “You want some?”
“Yes pleeeeease,” he sang.
He sat up as Amy grabbed the plates from the cabinets and began to scoop some rice onto them. He smiled. “Thank you Amy,” he said, walking over to pick up his plate and sit down.
“You’re welcome, Jake.”
They ate quietly, the magnitude of the day weighing upon them. The room was filled with their breaths and the soft clinking of utensils. Jake rested his eyes for a moment. It had been a long, long day.
“You good, Jake?” said Amy.
Jake snapped his eyes open. “Huh? Oh, yeah, just tired.”
Amy smiled softly. “Yeah. Me too.” She understood. They both understood. Nothing else needed to be said.
He looked back down at his food. He hadn’t eaten much of it yet, having spent a solid three minutes picking out all the little chopped vegetables and putting them in a small pile on the edge of his plate.
“Eat your vegetables, Jake,” Amy said. Jake grinned.
“I love you so much,” he said.
She snorted. “Love you too.”
They watched some tv after dinner, a nightly custom Jake had started. He leaned against Amy and she wrapped her arms around him. The show they were watching was delightfully stupid. Amy kept pointing out scientific inaccuracies, and Jake shushed her and told her to be quiet and just enjoy the show. Although it wasn’t like Jake was quiet either, constantly yelling advice at the screen and getting heated on the characters’s behalf whenever something crazy happened. He was a movie talker, just like she was. They were a perfect match.
They brushed their teeth and got ready for bed, sliding under the covers. Amy did the crossword puzzle as Jake played games on his phone.
“Ooh, look at this question,” said Amy, leaning over to show Jake her paper. “‘Last multiple choice option, often’, five letters.” She tapped with her pencil where she had written the answer into the spaces on the grid--OTHER. “Clever, right?”
“Of course you like the test themed one,” Jake joked.
“Hell yes I do.” She settled back into her spot. “Best in class, baby.”
“Valedictorian, forever and always,” he nodded.
She smiled. “I love you, Jake.”
“I love you too.”
They slipped slowly into sleep together, Jake as the little spoon, obviously. They’d get the news about the injured civilians later, but for now, they were in their own little bubble that didn’t extend past their blanket. It never got easier, sure, but at least they had each other.