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Raymond unwrapped his croque monsieur. Mm, delicious jambon et fromage. He considered the delicacy before him. He had grown accustomed to sharing his lunches since he and Jake returned from Florida and he had made a promise to himself while he was away to stop being so insular.
That they happened to be on a scheduled roster just made everything more convenient. Fair. Today was...he ticked down the list.
“Detective Peralta, I’m eating a delightful croque monsieur. Would you care to join me?”
“Uh, no!” Peralta called back. "No, thanks!"
Too quickly.
Raymond narrowed his eyes, pulling away from his desk and exiting the office. He stared from Peralta to Santiago, who were...hm. “You switched the position of your seat from only a few minutes ago, Santiago.”
In a way that is not conducive to work, he didn’t have to add, because surely the detective knew two people could not work in the small, cluttered space that was Jake Peralta’s domain.
“Wow,” she snorted in a poor imitation of the man beside her, “notice much?” He watched Peralta’s eyes widen in conjunction with her own. “Sorry, sir that was...totally uncalled for-”
“I’m a detective, Santiago, I detect.”
“And may I say you’re the best detector-detective! ”
Santiago's hands shot up to correct herself in her more extreme fashion, only to drag Jake across the desk, his wrist caught in a handcuff linked to her own.
“I swear, Chief, this is not a kinky sex thing.” Peralta said, his chin hitting the desk as he spoke.
Raymond growled.
“Unless that helps us?” He smiled the simpleton’s smile that made Raymond question his more profound moments of reason. “No? No.”
“It’s…” Santiago pulled a face. “It’s the only way I could get Jake to agree to do his paperwork, sir.”
“Well, agree is a strong word.”
“I helped.” Rosa passed behind him with a low chuckle.
“I’m familiar with the mechanics of being forced into a physical link with Detective Peralta.” Raymond straightened, inclining his head to her. “Good luck upon your house, Detective Santiago.”
She relaxed visibly. “Thank you, Sir.”
“Me too.” Gina said when Holt disappeared, probably to eat his fancy sandwich.
It didn’t register at first. She knew it wouldn’t. Took a while to get through all that dry hair and nerd crap. When it finally did, Amy’s head, predictably, whipped to face her.
“I’m sorry, what?”
“I said, I know what it’s like to be handcuffed to Jake.” Gina placed her boots on the desk, effectively blocking Amy from view. “Good luck, bubble butt.”
“Oh, come on,” she heard from the direction of her shoes, then a moment later, “really? Why am I only just now finding out about this?”
“I didn’t know that was the agreement when we started dating,” Gina moved a foot to see Jake rubbing at a place under the desk. Gina was sure Amy had pinched him but at least he was still smiling. “Tell each other all the people we’ve arrested? We’d be talking until we were in our eighties.”
“Okay your records not that great.” Amy scoffed, but the corners of her lips lifted.
“Hey, Gina,” Rosa leaned across her desk, eyebrows raised. Gina brought her boots to the floor. “Jake really arrest you?”
“Fake arrested,” Gina clarified. Besmirching Jake’s character was one thing, but she wasn’t going to sacrifice her cushy desk job.
“Someone in the academy told me one of the practical exams would be….” Jake let out a sigh. “Advanced escapology.” He finished in a mutter.
Oh no, Gina wasn’t allowing that. “Jake and I used to put on magic shows for the neighborhood when we were kids. They were these purple ones from an old TV order kit. Mm, strong though! I think I still have them somewhere...”
Amy was blushing lightly, eyes fixed on her wrist.
“Gina!” He hissed. “You promised to leave that part out!”
“Mm,” She pressed a finger to her chin, “don’t think so.”
Rosa’s eyes shot to Jake, who looked a little purple himself. “Purple handcuffs?”
“Yeah.” Gina sat back, crossing her arms.
Rosa narrowed her eyes. “I thought you said you’d never seen those before.”
He laughed nervously. “I believe my exact words were-”
“I don’t know how he escaped, Rosa, clearly those aren’t standard issue police handcuffs, he must have swapped ours out with ones of his own I certainly have never seen them before.” Rosa pitched her voice higher, in what Gina thought was a fair imitation of a panicked Jake. “That chase ruined my third favorite pair of jeans, Jake.”
“My God, how do you remember that?”
“I remember everything.”
“I’m sorry-”
Charles stood up, trying to look as dignified as a Boyle could (and knowing the extended Boyle family as Gina now did, that wasn’t saying much). “So what you're trying to tell me...is that every person in this room has a purple handcuff story except me?” He turned betrayed eyes to Jake’s desk.
“Looks like, jellybean.” Gina scrunched her nose.
“Hey, Charles!” Amy smiled. “I don’t have a purple handcuff story!”
Amy was an expressive talker, so she raised her hand to make her point and, in doing so, brought up her (though not purple) still attached handcuff.
“Oh…”
Ah, Santiago. Sweet, smart, and so uncool. Gina bent her head and reached for her nail file fighting hard not to laugh.
“I’m going to go eat with Holt!” She looked up in time to see Charles disappear into the Chief’s office with a huff.
“Well,” Jake smiled between them, “that went better than-”
“It’s pronounced croque monsieur, you monster!”
Terry came back from his lunch to an oddly silent Nine-Nine.
Still, a silent Nine-Nine was a productive Nine-Nine, so he smiled, waved a hello to Gina (who looked far too pleased, he should keep an eye on that), and made his way to the storage closet.
...to see Charles handcuffing himself to Jake.
“I am not even gonna ask…”
“Sarge!” He heard Jake call as he turned to the door. “It's not what it looks like!”
“I was the only one!”
“I said I am not gonna ask and that’s-”
The End