#b99 summer 2019 fic exchange

[amydancepants-peralta]

we’re the fortunate ones

Chapter Two of my entry for @b99fandomevents 2020 Vision Challenge! 

season two:  maybe I’m afraid of the way I love you (ao3) 🥂

Amy drops with a heavy flop into the padded outdoor chair, ignoring the annoyed grunt that falls from her brother Chris’s mouth as she holds her wine glass high in one hand in order to save her drink from spilling.  Mama Santiago’s Sangria was potent, but delicious, and needed to be Protected At All Costs.

“No please, don’t mind me at all.”  Chris muttered, voice dripping with sarcasm as he scoots towards the other edge, creating a gap between them as he goes. 

“Oh Chris,”  Amy replies, twisting in her seat to face him and resting an unsteady hand on his cheek, the other raising her glass back up to her mouth for another sip.  “You know, you might be brother number five, but you’re number one in my heart.”  

“Okay, yep.  You’re definitely drunk.”

Amy giggles, swirling the liquid in her glass and giving her brother a shrug.  “So what if I am?”  

It had been a long night at the Santiago household, with all of the family together under the one roof to celebrate the upcoming year.  Earlier in the evening Amy had been lumped with the task of entertaining her multiple nieces and nephews (a number which appeared to keep growing, year by year), and she had been so relieved when her fellow siblings had finally decided to pretend that 9pm was midnight, in the hopes that the children would crash right after.  The result was a house littered with scattered remnants of party poppers and banners, but all Santiagos under the age of eighteen were now safely tucked into their beds, and Amy could finally toast to the end of 2014.  

And in all honesty, she was glad to see the year was finally over.  It had been a confusing one, to say the least.  Helped in no way at all by her trusted partner dropping a Romantic Stylez shaped bomb on her before going undercover for six months without another word.  

Extending his own drink out, Chris taps the edge of his glass against Amy’s, the tiny clink so soft that the sound is barely audible.  “Are we drinking to remember, or drinking to forget?”

Amy scrunches up her face, weighing out the options.  She can still recall the moment with perfect clarity, all these months later.  Standing outside the precinct, feeling the cool breeze against her skin as she stopped to wish her partner good luck on his assignment.  The look on Jake’s face - oddly clear of all facades, with only a mixture of fear and hope remaining - as he told her how he felt.  Her hand gripping the strap of her purse just that little bit tighter as he spoke, eyebrows bent with confusion as her overactive (and sometimes frustrating) partner said the last thing she’d expected him to say.  The way her world seemed to shift from it’s comfortably slow and steady spin as he walked away, tilting onto an entirely new axis that pulled her into a stunned silence for god knows how long - breaking free only after a fellow officer passed her and wished her goodnight.  

And then there was Teddy.  Sweet, safe, reliable Teddy.  Who probably would have made an excellent (if not a little boring) long term boyfriend, if said partner hadn’t reappeared from undercover; denying then readmitting the truth behind his confession all within a day.  Reminding her - without even trying - of a night not so long ago, conducting surveillance on a rooftop that had played on her mind for days afterwards, and the strange little skip her heart would sometimes do when Jake smiled at her like she was the only one in the room.  

So they’d broken up, in a spectacularly awkward evening far too far from home, and now she was single and he was dating the kind of woman you’d expect to see on a billboard somewhere.  Jake was happy - happy without Amy - and no matter how hard she tried, Amy just could not get him out of her mind.

“Forget” she replies, draining her glass in one final gulp.  “Definitely to forget.”

Chris nods, reaching for the pitcher on a nearby table and refilling Amy’s glass.  “Drinking to forget it is.”

But try as she might, Amy can’t forget.  And as her phone buzzes against her thigh, from it’s position safely tucked into the front pocket of her jeans, she knows all the reasons why.

The texts between them had started out so simple earlier in the evening - Jake texting to double check that Amy hadn’t been called in to cover ‘some stupid assignment’ because ‘working two new years in a row would be a crappy move on Holt’s part but not unlikely’.  It had been sweet of him to do so, and Amy hadn’t been able to stop smiling for a good ten minutes after she had responded, confirming that she was in fact nowhere near work this evening.   

And then he had kept texting her, because it’s been close to four years working together now and somewhere along the way they had become friends as well as partners, and friends texted each other on New Years Eve.  And maybe she should stop replying, so that he stops texting her - because she really needs to get over him and moments like these really weren’t helping - but also maybe she doesn’t want to stop at all.  

Pulling out her phone, Amy unlocks her screen and grins at the latest text: a gif, of a drunk woman dancing - obviously supposed to be her after three drinks.  Completely ridiculous but also kind of hilarious and exactly what she’d expect to get from Jake after sending him a picture of her sangria.  

“Oh, I see - ” Chris’s insinuating voice breaks through the comfortable silence as he looks over Amy’s shoulder, sneaking a peak at her phone.  “You’re trying to forget someone, not something.”  He raises an eyebrow, shaking his head.  “You’re gonna need a lot more drinks then, chiquita.”

“I’m older than you, tonto.” Amy mutters, tapping out a quick reply and shoving her phone away before her brother can tease her any further.  “And besides, there’s nothing to ‘get over’.  That was Jake.  He’s my partner, and we’re friends.  It’s perfectly normal for friends to text each other.”

“Yep, sure.”  Her brother nods, giving her that totally disbelieving look that he’s thrown at her a thousand times before, and Amy rolls her eyes in preparation for his inevitable comeback.  “And friends totally get goopy-schmooey eyes whenever they see texts from each other.  Blush and bite their lip and do all those other totally normal things that you’ve been doing all night.”  He points with the hand still wrapped around his glass, one finger sticking out in accusation.  “You’re not as sly as you think you are, detective.”

“I so have NOT done any of tha- okay fine, I like him.”  Maybe it was the wine swimming around her belly, or maybe she was just so damn tired of hiding the reality of all of this even from herself.  Whatever it is, Amy finds herself twisting in place, leaning towards her brother and divulging it all:  from Jake’s admittance of feelings and Amy’s decision to keep dating Teddy; right down to the inevitably horrible breakup in front of Jake and his stupidly hot girlfriend.  She ends it all with a sigh, finishing her drink in a single gulp and dumping the glass onto the table with a thud, dropping her head into her hands.  “I like him SO much, Chris.  It’s just the worst right now.  We keep saying to each other that it’s in the past, but it isn’t really.  Not for me, anyway.”

Her brother leans back in his chair, not speaking, and the silence is so deafening that Amy lifts her head to look over at him.  With one hand resting against the armrest and the other stroking his chin, he appears deep in thought and (after what feels like forever) he clears his throat.  “I don’t think I’ve ever heard you talk this way about a guy before.”

Flickering her eyes back to the glass, Amy shrugs in defeat.  It would appear that Seven Drink Amy makes alcohol turn into truth serum.   “In vino veritas, I guess.”

Chris nods, eyes trailing over to the game of cups that Tony and Ricardo are playing in the distance before returning back to Amy.  “Maybe.  Or maybe … there’s more on the line this time.  He’s your partner, right?  Once the two of you ring that bell, there wouldn’t be any turning back.  And I think that scares the hell out of you.”

Amy nods, suddenly not trusting herself to respond.  It does scare the hell out of her.  She’s seen it all fall apart so many times before - colleagues transferring departments when things turn sour; holiday parties with both sides avoiding each other.  Not to mention the awkward distance she put between herself and Teddy whenever they were forced to cross paths.  The thought of having to go through any of that with Jake … even if she took all of the Feels out of the equation, he is still one of her closest friends, and one of the few people who understand her for who she is.  The thought of having to spend her day avoiding his smile, or to change precincts and move away from the people that have become her second family, made her feel physically ill.   

She’s never been one to back down from a challenge.  But maybe this time, the risks were too high to ignore.  

Looking over at Chris, Amy gives him what she hopes is a convincingly carefree smile.  “Never thought I’d hear such wisdom from you, manito.”

A steady hand reaches out, shoving Amy’s shoulder gently, and she laughs.  “Whatever, Amy.”  Chris mumbles, standing up to join their brothers.  “Seriously, though.  If this guy doesn’t come to his senses soon, it is absolutely his loss.  We Santiagos are good people, and you’re the best sister I’ve ever known”

Type A Amy wants to pipe up with a correction, and remind her brother that she is, in fact, the ONLY sister he’s ever known.  But the sentiment is sweet, and her phone is buzzing in her pocket again, and so she smiles at her brother’s parting figure, digging into her pocket with an eagerness she doesn’t even try to hide.  

Still, she couldn’t shake the feeling that maybe this time, she was in over her head.  

*

Jake slides a palm against his face as he walks towards the bar, leaning against the granite top as he repeats his order and settles on a stool to wait.  Tonight was dragging a little more than he had anticipated, and right now he needed a moment away from the crowd.

He knows, for all intent and purposes, that he should be out there mingling with the crowd.  Making small talk with the relatively familiar faces of the people that made up Sophia’s office, and put on his best Perfect Boyfriend face.  But as the night wears on, and he’s needed to encounter so many Ghosts of Courtrooms Past, it was getting increasingly difficult for him to pretend that he isn’t an island surrounded by a sea of monsters.  

(He’d texted something similar to Amy earlier in the evening, and she quoted some sort of poem about no men not being islands and oh how she’s a dork.)

The material of the tuxedo that Sophia made him rent rubs up against his wrist uncomfortably, and he fiddles with the inside seam as he waits.  There was only ten minutes until 2015 would begin, and he wants to get these glasses of champagne over to Sophia before the clock ticks over.  But there is one thing playing on his mind, and his fingers are itching to pull out his phone again and text Amy real quick - so under the guise of checking the time, he slides his phone from his pocket and begins typing rapidly.  

JP:  Do you know what I could really go for right now?

Her reply is swift, and briefly Jake wonders why she isn’t busy this close to midnight.

AS:  No? 

A soft smile crosses over his face at the memory.

JP:  One of those firework cupcakes we had last year. 

AS:  !!! The firework cupcakes! Honestly, those cupcakes were the best I’ve ever had.

JP:  The best I’ve ever had, title of my sextape.

AS:  🙄

His grin is bright as the bartender places two glasses of champagne in front of him, and Jake nods his thanks as he tucks his phone away again, grabbing the drinks and heading back into the fray.

Searching through the crowd, his eyes finally land on Sophia, her dark hair falling seamlessly down her back as she chats with her boss.  She’d chosen a simple blue dress for the occasion, hugging her figure in a complimentary way, and Jake tries his best to forget that the first time he saw it on the hanger in her apartment his mind had flashed back to the plastic-polyester blended monstrosity that he’d forced Amy to wear when he’d won the bet.  

There were a lot of reasons why a detective of the NYPD dating a defence attorney wouldn’t work, but Jake is glad that the two of them are doing their best to prove it all wrong.  Rosa had been right - the only way to move on from Amy was to move on, and Sophia had arrived into his life at just the right time.  Sure, it wasn’t ideal that  - despite their best efforts - they cannot seem to form a shared social group.  And that conversations about work never ended amicably, or that sometimes the resulting silence stretched out for a little too long until one of them (usually Sophia) initiated sex.  The point was, things were Totally Fine and he was definitely over Amy.

Sophia smiles at Jake as he hands her a glass of champagne, using her free hand to tuck the edge of his tuxedo collar down.  “Thanks, Jake.  Ready to count in 2015?”

Jake ignores the vibration of his phone in his pocket, smiling excitedly at his girlfriend as the band on stage begins to countdown.  Sophia’s palm remains flat against his chest as they share a chaste kiss at the stroke of midnight, whispering happy new year in that soft voice he’s grown so fond of, and when she steps away to wish her colleagues the same sentiment Jake begins to wonder if this could be the beginning of love.  That maybe love was about compromise: about changing to fit into the other’s world.  She seems to really like him, and he definitely likes her, and when they’re not avoiding certain topics they get on really well.  It’s possible that this whole time, his impression of what love should be has been completely wrong … and it was time to try again.

There’s more buzzing in his pocket as an additional text comes through, and with a quick glance towards Sophia, Jake retrieves his phone again.  It’s from Amy; this time accompanied with a selfie with her and several of her brothers, and Jake’s heart does a tiny backflip as he studies the photo of his partner.  She looks so relaxed and happy, holding up a tiny sparkler to the camera, and briefly he’s taken back a year - to a moment in an unmarked police car with surprise cupcakes and absolutely no bad guys.  A time before unsolicited admissions of affection and ‘maybe, yes, a little’s.  He scrolls ahead, reading the text below:

AS: Happy New Year, Jake.  Here’s to new beginnings. 

And he’s definitely over it all, but Jake’s heart still beats just that little bit faster when he scrolls back up to her photo.  Be that as it may, he’s here with Sophia; and the idea of the two of them together deserve a fighting chance, and so he sends Amy a quick reply before shoving his phone back into his pocket, distracting himself for the rest of the evening from the fact that he doesn’t hear from Amy again.

Meanwhile, on the other side of New York at her parent’s holiday house in The Hamptons, Amy switches her phone off - joining her brothers in a toast to the future, holding a single resolution in her head.  One simple rule, that will avoid all the potential for mess and force her to get over her ridiculous crush because no rule was made to be broken: no dating cops.  

If only she could have realised just how impossible that was going to be.  

#pining!amy #pining!jake #NYE throughout the years #Peraltiago stylez #b99 summer 2019 fic exchange #b99 fandom events #b99 fanfic #peraltiago fic #b99 fanfiction #b99 fanfics #jake x amy fic

[elsaclack]

the smell of coffee runs through my veins

or,

five times jake smells like fresh coffee grounds (and one time he doesn’t)

hi @winnietherpooh!!! so i wasn’t originally your assigned writer for the @b99fandomevents summer 2019 fic exchange, but they unfortunately had to drop out due to some unforeseen circumstances, so i stepped in!! i loved all of your ideas, but i decided to go with a jake/amy coffee shop au (with a liiiiiiiittle bit of jake/rosa friendship thrown in for good measure). it’s also the first time i’ve successfully finished a 5 times fic ahhh!!! i hope you like it!!! 

He smells like fresh coffee grounds.

She isn’t sure what to do with that, at first. She just honestly wasn’t that into coffee. It always played the role of a last-resource fuel to keep her awake when all else failed - never something to be independently enjoyed in an otherwise leisurely setting.

It makes sense, then, that she falls in love with a man who loves coffee.

He smells like fresh coffee grounds on the morning she meets him, looking haggard and disheveled at five in the morning, the stains on his flannel shirt just visible in the early morning light. Shattered glass litters the sidewalk just outside of his coffee shop’s door, catching the flickering street lights above them like urban diamonds forgotten in the rough. There’s another man, a shorter, older-looking man, pacing back and forth in the street just beyond the curb, looking more like a worried first-time father outside of a delivery room than a man whose place of business was robbed overnight.

Rosa is busy examining the busted windowpane in the door, so Amy turns to the shop-owner - whose stained flannel shirt smells like fresh coffee grounds despite him not even entering the store yet that morning.

“My name is Detective Santiago, and I’ll be the lead detective on this case.” 

He shakes her hand and manages to flash a smile - albeit a shaky one. “I’m Jake,” he says, “Jake Peralta.”

His hand is warm, and when she pulls her hand back to her side, the faintest scent of coffee grounds wafts toward her.

It’s a B&E - security cameras from the flower shop across the alley caught images of three perps hauling off through the back door with armfuls of merchandise and a particularly heavy-looking espresso machine - and within four hours Amy and Rosa are cuffing all three and calling in assistance to recover the merchandise from an apartment in the Bronx. The espresso machine is toast - apparently they dropped it three times in their attempt to escape unseen - but other than the general stench of cigarettes clinging to the merchandise, everything else is relatively unscathed.

The open sign hanging in the shop window is turned off, the front door is locked, but Amy manages to spot Jake through the window inside the shop as she approaches. He darts to the door immediately to let her in, looking anxious and hopeful in a way that makes her stomach bottom out despite her best efforts to remain unaffected. He up and hugs her when she tells him they solved it - and it’s like the scent of fine Colombian coffee has come to life and enveloped her fully.

(She wonders, briefly, if this is the kind of sensation Manny gets when he talks about food being so good that it’s all-consuming.)

“Do you like coffee?” he asks once they’ve parted.

“I love it,” she hears herself say.

His grin is brilliant, nearly blinding, and he trips over his own shoelaces as he quickly backs away from her. “Great,” he says as he rounds the far end of the front counter. “This one’s on the house. In fact, all of ‘em are. Forever.”

“Oh - you’re very generous, but I can’t accept -”

“Sure, you can,” he interrupts loudly. “Your money’s no good here, detective.”

She stares for a beat, biting the inside of her cheek to tamp down her smile. “It’s, uh, Amy,” she finally says - and some of the frenetic energy that overtook him moments earlier seems to dissipate, if only slightly.

“Amy,” he repeats, voice low and warm in a way that sends a thrill down her spine.

He smells like fresh coffee grounds every morning she returns - which is often, for a person who doesn’t drink coffee. The windowpane is replaced after a few days and the shop is reopened for business, and every morning she stops by on her way to work, he greets her loudly by name and introduces her to every other customer in the shop as the detective who saved the store.

“I’m just sorry I couldn’t save the espresso machine,” she says on the fourth morning, pointing up to the chalk-written menu hanging behind the counter - at the COMING SOON written over the line that advertised espressos before.

“It’s fine, it’s why I’ve got insurance,” he shrugs. “New machine should be here by Thursday of next week, which means we’ll  have it up and running for the Friday morning rush. Here, try this one - I added a couple of shots of cinnamon. I think you’re gonna really like it.”

(She does.)

Charles, Jake’s cook, takes a shining to Amy right away - in addition to the free coffee, she often finds herself juggling several pastry bags on her walk to her car. Some are certainly better than others; while Jake seems to be learning about what Amy likes and dislikes and customizing her drink accordingly, Charles tends to be a far more adventurous eater and seizes any opportunity to expand Amy’s palate.

“It’s a poppy seed bagel with a wasabi-infused cream cheese, drizzled with a caramelized citrus simple syrup,” he tells her proudly one morning while loading the bagel into a pastry bag. He’s pressed up against the edge of the counter, leaning toward Amy as he speaks; it’s how he misses Jake’s exaggerated gag from by the register, earning a nervous laugh from Amy. “I know the flavors don’t sound like they’ll go together, but trust me, it’s delicious. You’ll love it.”

(She doesn’t.)

“You can tell him you hate it, y’know,” Jake tells her after Charles walks away.

She shoots him a look as she straightens her blazer. “I don’t wanna break his heart,” she sighs, and he nods in understanding. “Besides, not everything he gives me is inedible. I like poppy seed bagels. And the citrus stuff actually sounded kind of good -”

“It’s really adorable that you’re trying to be gentle with him, but I hired him to make, like, blueberry scones and chocolate chip muffins. Stuff that normal people want to eat when they go to a coffee shop. If you don’t nip this in the bud, he’s gonna want to try to sell that stuff again and I’m not about to have that fight for the fourth time -”

“Alright, alright,” she interrupts, briefly raising both hands in defeat before snatching her briefcase, the pastry bag, and the to-go cup of coffee from the counter. “I’ll tell him the next time I’m in.”

“So, tomorrow,” Jake says.

Heat drips from the tips of her ears, but there is no judgement or derision in his expression - just expectancy, as if her presence is a given. “Actually, it’s - tomorrow is, um, my day off,” she stammers, “so I don’t know if -”

“Oh.” She’s fairly certain there’s disappointment in his voice - his shoulders definitely dropped, his gaze definitely lowered to the countertop between them. “Sorry, that was presumptuous -”

“No, no, it’s - I mean, I’ve been in here every other morning this week, so -”

“Well, uh, hey, have a good day off -”

“I might still -”

“You don’t have to -”

“I’ll be here.”

He pauses, a crease appearing between his brows. “Are you sure?”

“I’ll be here,” she repeats, “but maybe not ‘til after the morning rush.”

He smiles, the dimples in his cheek flashing. “I’ll see you then,” he says with a two-fingered salute.

He smells like fresh coffee grounds at the end of the day, battle-worn and weary but smiling and groaning in all the right places as she recounts her harrowing arrest of a man with a bag of human ears on the subway earlier that day. The hysteria of it all had taken up most of her day - she was only able to break away from paperwork at eight o’clock this evening, putting her on the coffee shop’s front stoop at precisely nine-oh-three, three minutes after closing.

Which of course didn’t stop Jake from holding the door open for her as he insisted she come inside. It turns out he had quite the day as well - his afternoon barista called in sick, leaving him with a sixteen-hour workday she unwittingly extended. “Stop apologizing,” he tells her as he passes her a mug full of steaming decaf coffee. “This isn’t work.”

His eyes are bloodshot and his eyelids seem to stick together every time he blinks, but he’s awake, he’s invested in her story, and there’s something a little different about the way he smells tonight - like the fresh coffee ground scent infused in his very atoms has blended with something spicier, something tangier. He’s slouching in his seat, legs splayed out wildly beneath the table, and even with one leg bouncing he’s practically emanating exhaustion.

“I should go,” Amy says for the third time. “You’re practically falling asleep over there.”

“You don’t have to,” he says, voice quiet and worn. “I think I have some stuff here to help me stay awake.”

She laughs, and he grins, eyes twinkling in the low light. “You’ve had a really long day, Jake.”

“So have you,” he reminds her, tone taking on the faintest edge of a disgruntled toddler refusing to nap. “You don’t see me trying to kick you out.”

“I don’t have to be at work at five in the morning,” she reminds him, and he rolls his eyes, a strangled grunt escaping his throat. “You really, really should go get some sleep.”

“I don’t wanna,” he mumbles, crossing his arms a little tighter over his chest. “This’s been the best part of my day. I don’t want it to end.”

“I’m the best part of your day?” she asks skeptically, ignoring the now-familiar thrill in the pit of her stomach to focus on the blush igniting in his cheeks. “I didn’t know you loved me so much, Peralta.”

“Whatever,” he grumbles, “I had a bunch of, like, snooty soccer moms come in and bitch me out because I didn’t make their mocha chai lattes with extra whip and extra sprinkles at the exact right temperature, and then they all blasted the shop with one-star reviews on Yelp,” he leans forward to bury his face in his hands. “And then Daisy called out sick, and Charles tried to crucify me over some oregano or something. Today sucked, and you’re, like, super nice, and I like talking to you because you don’t yell at me about coffee or oregano.”

It’s quiet for a beat - and then Amy finds herself leaning forward, her fingers closing over his left forearm. His skin his just as warm as she remembers; his eyes liquid and piercing as he peers at her through his fingers. “I’m sorry today sucked,” she murmurs sincerely. “D’you want me to track all of those soccer moms down and arrest them for disorderly conduct?”

He snorts and drops his hands to the table, and she quickly retracts her hand. “Maybe,” he says with a pseudo-thoughtful nod. He studies her face for a moment, his gaze darting over her face as she pulls a long drink from her coffee. “Thanks, Ames,” he says softy.

It’s quiet enough that she almost misses it, but he holds her gaze when she meets his eyes. “For what?” she asks.

He shrugs. “Being you. You just - you always know what to say.”

“Well that’s definitely not true, but - you’re welcome.”

He hugs her right outside the coffee shop, and she hugs him back - he’s warm and soft in that unique half-asleep way, and she curls her fingers into the loose folds of his flannel shirt, fighting back the urge to squeeze him to her as hard as she can. He’s slow to pull away, slow to retreat; it’s not until he’s a good ten feet away that he finally raises his hand in farewell, nearly tripping over a stray cafe table from the bistro next door to the shop before turning his back and walking away in earnest.

She can still smell that spicy, tangy something wafting off of her blazer when she gets home.

He smells like fresh coffee grounds when Amy finally convinces Rosa to come back to the coffee shop with her - a good four months after the case officially ended. By then Jake’s perfected Amy’s entirely unique order and has had it added to the menu; The Santiago Special now graces the bottom of the left hand side of the chalkboard, written in Daisy’s perfect looping scrawl.

“Detective Diaz!” Jake leans across the counter to shake Rosa’s hand as they approach, looking every bit as thrilled as Amy hoped he would be. “Welcome back! It’s good to see you again, how have you been?”

“Fine.” Rosa grunts, already scanning the menu over Jake’s head. “What d’you recommend?”

“Well, what do you like?”

“Coffee.”

It’s silent for a beat - and then Jake seems to realize she won’t be expanding any further. “I can respect that.” he says, casting beneath the counter for the already-opened bags of coffee grounds they keep stored there. “Sweet or savory?”

She ponders it a moment, lips pursing slightly. “Sweet.” she finally says.

“You got it. Regular for you, Ames?”

“Obviously.”

He flashes her a grin over the countertop before setting about working, and Rosa leans against the edge of the counter, seemingly taking in the rest of the shop. “It’s nice,” she finally says as she returns her attention to Amy’s face. “I can see why you like it so much. Is all of this artwork local?”

“The paintings are,” Jake confirms as he measures out coffee grounds. “The photography isn’t. A lot of those are stock photos that came with the frames - I just needed to fill empty space when I first moved in here, but I didn’t have the budget for legitimate photography. I’ve been meaning to take them down, but I haven’t gotten around to it yet.”

“There’s a farmer’s market not too far from here that sometimes has a photographer selling in a booth,” says Rosa. “She’s pretty good. You should check her out.”

“You go to a farmer’s market?” Amy asks incredulously.

Jake snorts as Rosa rolls her eyes. “I’ll definitely check her out. Are there any painters there? Like, murialists, I should say?”

Rosa frowns thoughtfully. “I don’t know,” she says. “I mean I’ve seen some people selling paintings, but I’ve never stopped and asked. I usually go for the fruit, the locally sourced honey, and the pottery.”

“You’re into pottery?”

“No.”

Jake pauses, a peculiar grin on his face. “Aren’t you partners? Shouldn’t you guys know, like, everything about each other? Or did the cop movies lie to me about that, too?”

“Well up until about sixty seconds ago, I thought we did know everything about each other,” Amy sniffs. Slowly, Rosa shakes her head, eyes never leaving the corner of the menu board. “Is your name even Rosa?”

Rosa turns her head, holding Amy’s gaze. “No. It’s Emily Goldfinch.”

“Oh, ha-ha, very funny.”

“I’m not kidding.” Before Amy can get another word in, Rosa returns her attention to Jake. “Are you thinking of putting a mural on that wall?”

“Yeah, but I really want to find a local artist who won’t charge out the ass for it, y’know?”

“Amy paints.”

“Wha- I don’t - I mean -”

Amy splutters as they both turn to look at her. “You paint?” Jake asks, the corners of his lips quirked upwards.

“I mean I - I sort of - I’m not that good -”

“She’s excellent,” Rosa interrupts, “I’ve seen some of her stuff. I think it would fit in with the vibe you’ve got going in here.”

“Well, I’d probably pay out the ass for you to paint a mural in here,” Jake says, abandoning the coffee grounds to plant both hands on the counter. “You don’t have to if you don’t want to, of course, but I’d love to talk to you about it.”

“Um - I mean -”

“Take some time to think about it,” he says, moving to resume making their coffees. “I’ll ask again later.”

Amy’s still staring when Jake slides their cups across the counter - on Amy’s sleeve, he’s written Ames, and on Rosa’s, he’s written Emily??

“I like him.” Rosa says once they’re back in Amy’s car. “He’s funny. You should paint the mural.”

“I don’t know if I’m good enough to paint an entire mural,” she mutters, tucking her cup into her cupholder and starting the car.

“You won’t ever know until you try. And I think that this is the place where you should really try.”

There’s something significant to Rosa’s tone, something meaningful in the slant of her head and the angle of her brows, but there’s traffic coming, and they’re three minutes late coming back from their break, so Amy just heaves a sigh as she pulls out of her parking spot.

He smells like fresh coffee grounds when he hands her a shirt with the shop’s logo on it - a simple, minimalist drawing of a coffee mug on a plate in side profile, thin white lines against dark blue material - and he’s grinning like a fool when she pulls it on over her ratty painting clothes.

“You’re officially on payroll,” he declares, dragging a table backward to make more room. “Welcome aboard.”

“Thank god, I was really struggling to make ends meet.”

He laughs outright at that, pausing halfway through dragging two chairs away. “Please,” he says once he’s recovered, “you probably have, like, eight savings accounts.”

“I have one, thank you very much.”

He’s still chortling as he drags the last table away - leaving an empty stretch of wall sprawled before her, a slate-grey canvas that stretches from floor to ceiling. She’s got sketches taped around the outer edges of her work space and a respectable collection of paints and brushes clustered together on the floor to her left; from the corner of her eye she sees Jake draw even with her to her right as she studies the space, staring at the wall as well. “It’s gonna look great,” he assures her.

“I just feel bad that you have to be closed for two full days.” she says as she turns toward him. “That’s a lot of money you’re losing out on.”

“I’d rather miss out on two days of business and have an incredible piece of artwork done by an incredible person than be open for one more day with lame stock photos on the wall.” he says earnestly, and the tips of her ears burn. “This is gonna bring more people in, Ames. We’ll make our money back in a week.”

“What if the painting sucks?”

“We paint over it with the stuff I have in storage and you start over.”

“That’s another day wasted, though.”

“What are you talking about? I don’t have to deal with any annoying Brooklyn hipsters and I get to hang out with you. That’s not what I’d call a wasted day.”

She bites the inside of her cheek to keep from smiling too broadly as she turns back toward the wall. “I’ve never done anything like this before.” she reminds him, voice small.

He touches her shoulder, fingers curving over the upper ridge and squeezing as his thumb sweeps down her arm several times. “It’s gonna look great.” he says again. “I’m really, really excited.”

He retreats to a chair dragged to the opposite wall and sits, and Amy inhales deeply, praying he can’t read her nerves despite her shaking hands. It’s a painting, Amy, she reminds herself. Relax.

The first touch of paint to the wall is agonizing, but a split-second later she’s liberated; Jake kicks on music over the shop’s speakers from his phone and she’s back in the groove, like she never left her last college painting class. She pauses only occasionally over the next several hours - for bathroom breaks and lunch and once, briefly, when paint dripped into her coffee - and by the end of the day she’s studying a nearly-completed mural, taking notes on her sketch for areas that need touch-ups when she comes back tomorrow.

“Okay,” Amy says, folding her sketch and tucking it into her pocket with one hand while tucking her pencil behind her ear with the other. “It’s not all-the-way done yet, but it’s mostly done. I just need to do a couple of touch-ups in some spots once the paint is dry, but that’ll take less than an hour tomorrow. What do you think?”

Jake’s silent, an unreadable expression on his face, when Amy turns toward him. He seems almost winded as he slowly stands; his eyes follow each line of the mural, sweeping up and over and down and up again. It’s pretty abstract, considering her penchant for still-lifes, more of an explosion of muted pastels in sharp geometric shapes that fade back into the grey of the wall along the outermost edges. “I love it,” he breathes.

There isn’t a single modicum of insincerity about him, so she tamps down a smile and turns back toward the mural. “I wanted it to feel like Brooklyn, and like the shop itself, which is why it’s kind of modern-looking and has a lot of sharp edges and clean lines, but...I also wanted it to feel the way that I feel when I’m here. Which is why I used pastels.”

From the corner of her eye, she sees him draw up even with her; he’s no longer looking at the mural. “What’s important about pastels?” he murmurs.

“Well, they’re - they’re soft. Cool, but not cold - they’re refreshing, like an oasis. It’s like an unexpected bright spot in the midst of a lot of sameness. They’re sweet, and calming, and - and I just - I really, really, really like them.”

She can’t bring herself to look him in the eye, but she can hear his sharp intake of breath. Tension radiates off of him in waves, and it’s suddenly near-impossible to draw a breath. “I love it,” he repeats, softer than before, and the too-familiar thrill bottoming out in her belly feels like the opening of a bottomless cavern and the smell of coffee grounds grows stronger as he leans closer -

A sharp knock on the window behind her has them both jumping backwards - an unfamiliar face is pressed against the glass, peering inside. “Are you open?” she asks as she jiggles the locked doorknob.

“No.” Jake says back loudly, stepping around Amy to point to the darkened open sign. Amy watches him go, one hand over her heart, the other pressed to her suddenly burning cheek. “We’re not open again until day after tomorrow.”

“Can I get a coffee to go, then?”

“What? No, we’re closed. We’re not making coffee today.”

“There are two of you in there, why can’t one of you make me a coffee?”

“Because we’re closed and we don’t have any coffee to make today. Come back on Tuesday and we’ll have some for you.”

“This is ridiculous, I thought this place was supposed to have good service!”

“It does. When it’s open.”

The would-be customer rolls her eyes and storms off, shouting obscenities and promises to drink only Starbucks moving forward as she goes, and Jake watches her go with his hands on his hips. “There goes another one-star review. You see what I deal with every day?” he mutters as he turns back to Amy.

“Well, at least your place has a reputation for good service,” she tries.

“Oh, you and your silver linings,” he says with an affectionate smile.

The heat still burning in the tips of her ears has spilled down to her cheeks now; slowly, eyes never leaving his face, she steps backwards. “I should - I should let you go -”

“Right, yeah, it’s nine,” he murmurs, glancing at the clock above the front door to confirm. “I’ll, uh, walk you to your car?”

“You’re parked way further away, I should be offering to walk you to your car.”

They both laugh, Amy’s filtered with nerves, and in the dim lighting she can see his throat moving as he swallows. “Maybe - maybe I could walk you to your car, and then you can give me a ride to mine?”

“That’s fair,” she concedes with a nod.

They’re in the front seat of her car ten minutes later, parked behind his beat up old Mustang four blocks away from the shop. He’s in the midst of recounting an exchange not unlike the one they just had with another customer, imitating a high-pitched Long Island accent perfectly with a comically distorted face, a smile twitching across his face with each new peal of laughter from Amy. The tension from earlier has not dissipated, but she finds she doesn’t mind it here - not with him sitting so close, smelling so good, smiling at her like that.

“It’s late,” he finally sighs, patting his palms against his thighs.

It’s not, not really. She’s off tomorrow. “A little,” she murmurs, hoping her reluctance to leave isn’t as evident in her voice as it feels.

He smiles, warm and affectionate, and lets his head fall back against the seat. “The mural is really beautiful,” he says softly. “I can’t wait to see it again tomorrow.”

It’s hard to tell with what limited light is spilling into the cab of her car, but she’s fairly certain he’s looking at her lips; she swallows thickly, and his eyes dart back up to meet hers. “Me either,” she whispers.

She’s not sure if it’s him, or her, or the gravitational pull tugging at her very heart, but the next thing she knows is his lips on hers and his fingers in her hair. He tastes like cocoa and indulgence, like every sweet thing in her life; he sighs against her and shifts closer, and the familiar scent of fresh coffee grounds envelopes her every sense.

He smells like soap, like clean earth, like fresh rain falling on grass and trees, like something spicy and tangy. He’s awake when she opens her eyes - he’s been watching her sleep, she realizes with a touch of embarrassment.

The look of awe-struck wonder in his eyes doesn’t allow the embarrassment to last for long.

“Hi,” he murmurs as she shifts her head on her pillow to look at him more directly.

She laughs and he flushes pink, head dropping down just far enough that the still-damp curls at his hairline brush against her arm. She bites down on the inside of her cheek to keep from reaching out to touch his hair - before realizing that she can do that now, probably.

So she does.

He lifts his head just slightly the moment she cards her fingers through, and his expression is so soft and so affectionate she’s certain her knees would have given out from under her were she standing. “You smell different,” she whispers.

“Different...bad different?”

“No, good. But different. You usually smell like coffee.”

“Well, I typically try not to bathe in it,” he mutters, and his fingers gently close over her elbow bent up against the mattress. “But it’s hard not to smell like coffee all the time when you own a coffee shop.”

“Hey, I’m not complaining,” she says, grinning as she ruffles his hair. “I’ve actually always loved the way coffee smelled, even if the taste is kind of so-so.”

He furrows his brow, and a split-second later she feels her stomach bottom out. “The taste is kind of so-so?” he repeats, and she retracts her hand to pull his comforter up over her head. “Amy, do you not like coffee?”

There’s laughter in his voice and the mattress beneath them is quaking, and she lets out a groan she’s sure is comically muffled on the other side of the comforter. “I’m - it’s not that I don’t like it, it’s just - before we met, I never really - I mean I did, but only when I was, like, on the verge of passing out asleep at work - I just never really -”

“You said - on the day we met - that you love coffee.”

She flips the comforter down with enough force to bounce them both slightly, earning another volley of giggles from Jake. “Well, I do now!” she half-shouts.

“But you didn’t then?”

“What was I supposed to do? You were really cute and you were being so sweet and I had no idea we’d - that you and I would -”

“Oh, my god, you are so cute when you’re all flustered,” he interrupts, lightly poking her upper arm before curling his fingers around her bicep in earnest. “I’m really glad you lied about liking coffee.”

She rolls her eyes, but can’t fight back the smile spreading across her face. “Me, too. Even though I have a feeling I’ll never live it down.”

“You definitely won’t.”

He leans down before she can retort, and his lips are as soft and warm as they were the night before. His kiss is warm and sweet, thorough and electric, and before long she forgets her embarrassment and instead focuses only on the way his hair feels thick and soft between her fingers.

She’s practically panting by the time he pulls away, her eyelids fluttering open to find him looking down at her with an undeniably satisfied expression on his face, his kiss-bruised lips parted as his own chest heaves. “So glad you lied,” he murmurs before leaning down to quickly nip at her chin.

“I need to take a shower before we go back to the shop,” she says as he rolls out of bed and arches his back. “Do you mind if I use your stuff?”

“Do I mind if you smell like me for the rest of the day? Uh, no,” he winks cheekily as she rolls her eyes. “Towels are in the cabinet to the right of the toilet. I’m gonna make a breakfast run while you’re in there - muffins okay?”

“As long as Charles didn’t make them.”

He laughs as he tugs his shirt on, eyes twinkling with mirth. “I’ll make sure he doesn’t get within a city block of them,” he assures her as she sits up in bed. “Can I get you something other than coffee to drink? Like maybe tea or apple juice?”

Despite his obvious joking tone, she senses the note of sincerity beneath the question - like if she really wanted something other than coffee, he’d take no personal offense. And it’s like all of a sudden, every insecurity of his is laid out bare before her - and she knows he’s not only asking about coffee. “I want coffee,” she assures him, pouring every ounce of conviction into the words. “I’ve been wanting coffee for a long time now.”

He smiles, small and shy, and steps toward the bed to kiss her soundly once more. “You’ve only been up for five minutes,” he murmurs against her lips.

She smacks his shoulders and he laughs, recoiling backwards. “Go get breakfast and I’ll shower and then we can go straight to the shop to finish this mural up. I want to be done before ten.”

“You have other plans today?”

“Yeah, I’m spending the whole day with you, and I’d rather not fight self-entitled hipsters through the shop windows.”

“Fair enough!” he shouts through a broad grin, yanking his jeans up his legs and bounding out the bedroom door. “I’ll be right back!”

It isn’t until well after the front door has slammed shut, after the water has begun pouring out of his showerhead and the steam has enveloped her body, that the scent wafting off of her own skin reaches her consciousness -

She smells like fresh coffee grounds.

#b99 summer 2019 fic exchange #b99fandomevents #my b99 fics #b99 #jake x amy #winnietherpooh #peraltiago #peraltiago fanfiction

[b99fandomevents]

Thank you again to the awesome folks who joined our first ever Fic Exchange!!! We hope you enjoyed writing your fics as much as we loved reading them. 

Under the cut is a masterlist of all the submitted works, compiled and arranged in alphabetical order by the amazing @amez-santiago. ♡ (If you don’t see your fic here or notice any errors, please let us know!) 

If you’re interested in joining the Fall 2019 Fic Exchange, definitely keep an eye out for our next announcement post within the next couple of weeks. 

a summer rain is passing over, and it feels like a dream | AO3

↝ by @exploding-snapple for @storyinmyeyes​

Amy takes Jake to go see a play, but it’s really the walk home afterward that he enjoys the most. (set a few weeks after 3x02)

Cause you’re what I always wanted | AO3

↝ by @sandylovesfandoms for @a-wren-d

Rosa shows Gina Babylon, and sparks fly

Coming Out | AO3

↝ by @the-poodles-of-pulitzer for @yaboring-yabasic

Rosa’s POV for coming out.

Dancing around each other | AO3

↝ by @disruptedvice for @amydancepants-peralta

“Ah! Amy! Help!” Jake shrieked the moment she answered her phone, not really concerned about volume control since he was kinda trying to not die at the moment. It had gotten through four rings before she finally picked up, and this would’ve been it for Jake if it’d gone straight to voicemail. Amy frowned, looking around as if he could see her, but soon brushed it off as her being paranoid. “Jake? What’s wrong?” “I’ve got the goose!” He shouted, jumping to dodge another swipe that could only be described as intelligent and intent. “The goose is here! The goose is here!”

Soulmate AU where one person finds a goose who leads them to the other person. The difficulty comes in not being mauled by a goose 

doggone summer | AO3

↝ by @timeforginasopinion for @sandylovesfandoms

Amy should have known it was going to be an awful summer from the moment Jake Peralta appeared on her front doorstep carrying a dog. “Morning, Ames,” he chirps, irritatingly cheerful, as if he’s passing her in the hallway at school rather than standing in front of her house during the sadly fleeting time of year she’s supposed to be free of this bullshit. “Cheddar, say hi to Amy.” The corgi swaddled in his arms, predictably, doesn’t respond. Jake fixes it with an offended frown. “Well, that was rude.” Amy sneezes a lot and thinks longingly of her bowl of oatmeal squares, now growing soggy on the kitchen counter. Her life was so much simpler ten minutes ago.

everything's good, everything's just as it should be | AO3

↝ by @fezzle for @the-poodles-of-pulitzer 

“Jake,” she starts, slow and deliberate. “Do you know who I am?” He stares at her a moment before shaking his head, and her stomach swoops. Oh my god. or Jake gets an appendectomy, and there happens to be an amusing side effect as he wakes up from his anesthesia.

foolishly, completely falling | AO3 [E]

↝ by @fezzle for @kamekamelea

“Are you… asking to hook up with me?” Amy asks slowly, every syllable enunciated carefully. “Whaaaat? No! Nope. No, I definitely was not! What I meant to say was -’’ “Becausetheanswerisyes.”Jake freezes, eyes bugging. “Wh-What?” “I-I said yes.” or Jake and Amy are friends with benefits. What could go wrong?

Heads and Hot Dogs and the Best Day Ever | AO3

↝ by @vernonfielding for @nerd-husbands

Nikolaj spends a day at the precinct not helping Rosa solve a case. He's never been happier. 

hold me in this wild, wild world | AO3

↝ by @dmigod for @santiagoswagger

He wants to say he doesn’t know how he got into this situation, but he knows exactly how it happened (or, at least mostly): with a bet. It’s not news to anyone that he and his professional partner are competitive—Santiago is a type A tightwad who feels like she has to prove herself to everyone (except him), and Jake, well, Jake likes to spite her. And to win. He really, really loves winning.

hold me in this wild, wild world | AO3

↝ by @johnny-and-dora for @meepmorpperaltiago

“It takes every ounce of willpower he has left not to kiss her like it’s their last night on earth. Despite the odds, he refuses to kiss her like he’s saying goodbye.” or, a forbidden love/royalty/fairytale au in which jake comes up with an alternative solution to amy being forced into an arranged marriage with the most boring man in the seven kingdoms.

i found a mirror for my soul (i don’t need no other) | AO3

↝ by @b99peraltiago for @exploding-snapple

When she realizes her sleeve has rolled up a little, showing the skin of her wrist and tries to cover it again, it’s already too late. Jake’s seen it. He’s caught sight of the glowing “S” printed there. “S” as in, Soulmate. Amy finally found hers – and, obviously, it’s not him. (Post-4x22 soulmates AU, in which Jake and Amy are not soulmates and she finds hers while Jake is in jail.)

i’ll put it all on the line | AO3

↝ by @amydancepants-peralta for @callginalinetti

"We have to find her, Jake!” He looks up from an evidence marker, furrowing his brow. “I’m sorry … her?” “Your mystery woman! The beautiful woman you were stuck on the subway with. She’s obviously your soulmate.”

I’m going home, to the place where I belong (where your love has always been enough) | AO3

↝ by @storyinmyeyes for @outofinspo

It’s moving in day for Jake and Amy and she’s a little stressed out over all the boxes that need unpacking, but in true Jake fashion, he provides a distraction.

I’ve got a really bad feeling I’m gonna love you so good | AO3

↝ by @amesantiagos for @romanovember

A typical Friday night at Shaw’s bar with the Nine-Nine …or not quite. “Really, I just wanted to check if you’re okay.” “Why wouldn’t I be?” She frowns at him, her eyes dark in the dimly lit booth, “and why do you even care?” “Well, first off, that’s rude,” he raises he eyebrows at her, “and secondly, because you’re my partner, and I know I normally come across as a badass, emotionless action-hero like type– ” “No, you don’t.”

if they’re meant to be together, they won’t stay too long apart | AO3

↝ by @startofamoment for @e11evenseggos

They’d first met in the fall of their freshman year. Amy can still remember it with perfect clarity: how Jake rushed into the lecture hall, hair unruly and plaid shirt rumpled. He looked like he’d just woken up, or maybe never slept. Perhaps he’d pulled an all nighter in prep for their big exam. (She had gotten the recommended eight hours of sleep, naturally, and had gotten up with more than enough time to have a balanced breakfast and to go over her review sheets.)

It is like Oatmeal……. | AO3

↝ by @dancezwithwolvez for @cheddar-the-dog

Another chance.

it’s your love i’m lost in | AO3

↝ by @stolethekey for @ofbuttsandbombs

She smiles. “That’s been the theme of the entire Holt-Cozner relationship. Finding love, despite everything telling them that they cannot. Being confronted with danger, with fear, with risk, but making the incredibly brave choice to love anyway.” or, an mcu post-snap au in which holt and kevin renew their vows

julian santiago and the case of the sister’s mystery boyfriend | AO3 

↝ by @amyscascadingtabs for @397bartonstreet

Eventually, he makes the educated guess that there must be someone else in her life. She must have wanted for this to break-up to happen, he figures, and a new mystery lover could very well be the reason. Julian simply has to figure out who it is.

long live all the magic we made | AO3

↝ by @benwvatt for @startofamoment

He deserves to know about cheering charms, or spells that change mice into teapots, or a potion that could double his age. He belongs in her world, she thinks. If only he were. Rule number one of being a Santiago: Neighbors like the Peraltas don’t have any business knowing about magic. Amy ignores it and finds everything she was dreaming of.

of babies and binders

↝ by @a-wren-d for @acanoftrash

domestic peraltiago

Of Debates and Chickenshit Boys | AO3

↝ by @professionalpenthief for @imalloutofhoots

Amy’s happily dull life turns upside down when a mystery admirer’s love for her goes viral in her high school. As she navigates the new uncharted territories of being in the public eye, she finds love does defy all expectations. 

Regarding The Incident In Which Raymond Ran Away To Mexico | AO3

↝ by @nerd-husbands for @amesantiagos

“Can you clarify,” Kevin said into his cellphone, using his other arm to hail a cab, “how much wedding cake did Cheddar eat?"  The Honeymoon episode, from Kevin’s perspective.

Run, Hide, Fight (Show Me Going) | AO3

↝ by @cheddar-the-dog for @vernonfielding

around two days after the active shooter situation in Brooklyn Heights Hotel Rosa wakes up from a nightmare that she soon realizes was not a nightmare at all

sailing home once and for all | AO3

↝ by @kamekamelea for @disruptedvice

In the universe where Jake is a sailor from New York, he finds himself coming back home to this one special girl - detective Amy Santiago.

Sick Leave | AO3

↝ by @winnietherpooh for @amyscascadingtabs

Amy decides that Jake needs a vacation after he returns prison, and he finally begins to open up about his recovery as they read Harry Potter together.

Something more than a catalog of non-definitive acts | AO3

↝ by @chipmunksallshipklefan for @professionalpenthief

Jake and Amy go undercover as a couple.

The Beer Burglar | AO3

↝ by @outofinspo for @cheeto-anaconda

Brooklyn Nine-Nine and The Good Place crossover where Jake arrests Eleanor

The Date Night 

↝ by @meepmorpperaltiago for @amazingsantiago

Based on the prompts: jealous Amy and Jake being Amy’s hype man

The Desert Sucks, But Being a Damsel in Distress Isn’t Too Bad | AO3

↝ by @romanovember for @fezzle

I’m never drinking again. Jake Peralta thinks as he comes to consciousness, his mouth full of cotton swabs and sandpaper and his head pounding like a sledgehammer on concrete. Or maybe 50 million sledgehammers, a freight train and another 24 elephants. Ugh Jake rolls over, and pulls his crinkly and hot duvet closer, relaxing his aching and hungover body into the cool embrace of… sand? And on his head? An honest to god cowboy hat. Yeehaw?

The in-between | AO3 

↝ by @disruptedvice for @amydancepants-peralta

Amy’s thoughts between ‘go back to being colleagues’ to ‘screw light and breezy’

the interrogation room | AO3

↝ by @yaboring-yabasic for @timeforginasopinion

one-shot based loosely on the prompts badly trying to keep a secret, locked in, and kid fic with some peraltiago, dianetti, and the whole squad.

the smell of coffee runs through my veins | AO3

↝ by @elsaclack for @winnietherpooh

five times jake smells like fresh coffee grounds (and one time he doesn’t)

the stars lean in a little closer all because of you 

↝ by @peraltasames for @b99peraltiago

baby peraltiago + beach house 2.0

there was a time when a moment like this wouldn’t ever cross my mind | AO3 [E] 

↝ by @kamekamelea for @disruptedvice

She looks deeply into his eyes, dark from the desire overwhelming him and whispers straight into his lips in an authoritative tone. “No, Jake. Fuck me with my uniform on.”

THIS BOY WILL BE THE DEATH OF ME | AO3

↝ by @ofbuttsandbombs for @stolethekey

Jake Peralta and Amy Santiago, self- proclaimed 'best detectives of the Nine-Nine’ (and 'of the NYPD’, 'no, USA!’, 'no,the entire freaking world!!’, when they get a little drunk) are handed a routine murder investigation which goes off- track. Will this cause their already fragile relationship to change? The journey from 'Peralta and Santiago’ to 'Jake and Amy.’

time is ticking away (and there are too many things I wanna say) | AO3

↝ by @what-about-gay for @johnnydora

Amy is stressed because she can’t find her soulmate, while Jake couldn’t care less about his soulmate. Time is ticking and they have to find their soulmates, because when the clock is at zero and you haven’t found your soulmate yet, you and your soulmate both die.

Variations on sharing a bed 1/2/3 | AO3 [T to M]

↝ by @disruptedvice for @amydancepants-peralta

Peraltiago drabbles + sharing a bed trope

We Are The Greatest Love Story (The World Had Ever Seen) | AO3

↝ by @cheddar-the-dog for @dancezwithwolvez

the night they meet his life changes forever and he’d never go back to before or how the story of Kevin and Raymond found its start

we could be a beautiful miracle, unbelievable | AO3

↝ by @stolethekey for @johnny-and-dora

Kylie hums, reaching over to unzip the back of Amy’s dress. “Well, whatever you’re not anxious about is going to lose his mind when he sees you in this. Seriously.” “He has a girlfriend,” Amy snaps, shimmying out of the dress and snatching her leggings off the wall. “And this isn’t for him.” - in which Amy throws a New Year's Eve party that subsequently implodes.

we were good at faking forever | AO3

↝ by @johnnydora for @dmigod

David Santiago has super powers. No matter how much effort Amy gives to everything she does, he always manages to beat her tenfold, including obtaining the girlfriend of his parents’ dream. With ten days until her brother Miguel’s wedding and no date, Amy has no choice but to convince the next person she sees to fall madly in love with her.

we were wild and fluorescent, come home to my heart | AO3

↝ by @santiagoswagger for @benwvatt

Desperate to find a last minute gift for her mom, Amy stumbles into the only open flower shop in her neighborhood. Unfortunately, the florist is very annoying.

we won’t run (we can fight) | AO3

↝ by @amydancepants-peralta for @chipmunksallshipklefan

“Be careful who you give your midnights to, my darling. Midnights are for talking - for old friends and new; for truth and never for lies. When you’ve only got the stars to illuminate, everything else falls away. Midnights are for confessions.” Her hand falls to Amy’s shoulder, squeezing gently. “They’re for falling in love.” Well that’s just ridiculous. She and Jake were definitely not falling in love. Oh. Medieval AU where the evil King Vulture is ruining Brooklyne. Amy and Jake work together to take him DOWN.

whelp, this might be your view for the next seven years | AO3

↝ by @callginalinetti for @galaxygaydreams

sometimes you get to meet your soulmate twice (basically a new version of how jake and amy meet and fall in love)

When You’re Home

↝ by @397bartonstreet for @peraltasames

jake and amy’s first night back together after the ambulance scene in coral palms pt 3 + fluffy reunion goodness.

where’d you go, david santiago | AO3

↝ by @acanoftrash for @brillliant

when amy’s brother goes missing, she hires private detective jake peralta to find him.

You Already Know | AO3

↝ by @e11evenseggos for @what-about-gay

a one-shot of Gina and Rosa’s wedding ceremony.

you showed me something i can’t live without | AO3

↝ by @amazingsantiago for @dailyb99

Alternative ending to Casecation. Jake is left reeling after Amy’s “start over” comment. Title from ‘I Believe’ by the Jonas Brothers.

#b99 summer 2019 fic exchange #b99fandomevents #summer 2019 fics #b99 fic

[amyscascadingtabs]

julian santiago and the case of the sister’s mystery boyfriend

so, finally, finally, i finished my assignment for the @b99fandomevents fic exchange! i was assigned @397bartonstreet and i chose to include the prompts 'amy's brother finding out she's dating someone from an instagram post' and 'peraltiago from a third party's perspective'. thank you for the creative prompts and thank you so much for your patience!

read here on ao3

DECEMBER 2014

Julian Santiago considers himself to be pretty close with his only sister. He's only two years older, they've gotten along throughout most of their childhood, and still do today. They're piano portrait buddies, although he accepted a while ago that he’ll always be a little bit closer to the stairs than she is. They shared a room as well as secrets growing up, and she's the first person he tells when he meets his first real boyfriend. Likewise, Julian is the first Santiago brother to learn when Amy gets together with Sergeant Teddy Wells and the first to learn when they break up. They're close, and out of all the seven competitive brothers, Julian likes to think he's the one who knows and understands his sister best.

It's a mystery on multiple levels when he can't figure out how okay she seems about the breakup. His sister, the person who cried for days straight when she broke up with her college boyfriend, his sister who has never been known for taking relationships lightly or being far from tears when she’s going through something, is sitting in their parents’ couch a mere five days after her breakup and seeming fine. She’s laughing and grinning in the most genuine way he recognizes, nodding with surprise when he asks if she’s okay, and Julian understands if she wants to appear strong in front of their hyper-judgmental parents, but this is eerie. She’s too okay. It’s mind-boggling, and either he’s not getting an answer or he’s not asking the right questions, but eventually, he makes the educated guess that there must be someone else in her life. She must have wanted for this to break-up to happen, he figures, and a new mystery lover could very well be the reason. Julian simply has to figure out who it is. 

It doesn’t take him many hours - two, actually - before he has a guess. He’s heard his sister talk about her detective partner, Jake Peralta, before, but this is excessive. It starts with a retelling of some funny anecdote he’s told once, continues with her mentioning how she won over him in a confusing set of games and ends with further repetitions of Jake said this and Jake told me that until Julian is as certain as can be. They're dating, he knows it, but he has to be sure - he has to find some way to dig this secret out of her and be the first of the brothers to know - so he brings it up.

Not in front of everyone, of course. He’s made that mistake before and it ended with Amy being too furious to speak to him for weeks. No, he waits until his dad suggests the siblings go out on a walk while Camila finishes up what is sure to be a delicious roast dinner, and while he’s not by definition alone with his sister, it’s the maximal amount of primacy which can be had during Santiago family gatherings. David and Victor are power-walking fifty feet ahead of anyone else, Luis and his wife Emma are walking thirty feet behind with their three-year-old twins. Tony, Isaac, and Christian are close but too deep in conversation about different kinds of protein powder to listen to anything else, their respective girlfriends are deep in conversation about what Julian thinks is a reality show but might as well be politics, and Simon is trying to keep up with David and Victor while holding a camera in front of his face. It’s chaos, but Julian finally has a chance to have a conversation only with Amy, so he jumps on it.

 “So, that Jake guy, huh?”

“What?” Amy flinches, looking at him like he just started speaking Russian to her. “Why are you bringing him up?”

“You two are definitely dating, huh?”

“What?” She nearly screams this, earning herself a confused glance from everyone nearby, and Julian almost jumps to the side in shock. “What - why are you - what would make you think that?”

“I don’t know”, he shrugs, “maybe because you’re mentioning him once every five minutes?”

“He’s my work partner.”

“Who you talk about constantly.”

“I don’t talk about him constantly!” Amy’s still gaping, nose scrunched and eyes clearly judging him for his apparent stupidity. “That’s - you’re - I don’t.”

“You do, though.”

“I don’t!”

“Sure”, Julian grins. “I know you just want to keep it a secret from mom and dad, that’s fine, but you can tell me.”

“Jake and I aren’t dating!” She’s wheezing her words, looking anxiously around her before lowering her voice further. “We’re not. We’re really not.”

“But you’re… something?”

“He has a girlfriend, Julian.”

“Ohh…” He contemplates this confession, the cogwheels in his brain working and immediately jumping to the next guess. 

Except she wouldn’t. His sister wouldn’t. Or would she?

“Are you, uh -”, he whispers, “are you the other woman?”

“JULIAN!” They’re earning themselves looks and raised eyebrows again, now also from an older lady walking past them. Amy shoots her an apologetic smile before returning to the conversation. “Trust me, I’m not in love with Jake. And even if I like him - it wouldn’t matter.”

“Why wouldn’t it matter?”

“Because I would never date someone I work with, dumbass! It’s unprofessional.”

“You dated that pilsner guy -”

“Teddy and I worked at different precincts. Jake and I work at the same. It would be...” She grimaces. “I don’t know. I just don’t think it would work. Either way, it doesn’t matter because I don’t like him.”

“You’re talking about him a lot, is all I’m saying.”

“Julian”, she says his name like it’s a warning about life and death. “Let. It. Go.”

“Like the Frozen song?”

“You’re hopeless”, Amy declares, walking away from him in a pace so rushed he has to jog to keep up with her. 

“Fine! Fine! You don’t like Jake!”

It pains him as an older brother to give his sister that much privacy when he could be repeatedly teasing her, but Amy’s threatened to beat him up once before and Julian knows from experience his sister is strong. As tempting as it is to do the opposite, he lets it go. 

OCTOBER 2015

Julian doesn’t ask his sister more questions about her love life for the year that passes by. Jake the work partner must still be dating someone else, seeing how Amy steers clear of him bringing up for the next months. Whether she has feelings for the guy or not, Julian’s still unsure, but asking seems to do no good and eventually, he gives up.

He can’t shake the suspicion that she’s dating someone else, though. Every time they meet up that summer, Amy is in a better mood than ever. She’s practically glowing every time someone asks her how she’s been, laughing and participating in every conversation even when she says she’s tired from work, and there seems to be an air of confidence and happiness around her that he’s not seen since his sister was promoted to Detective. Whatever - or whoever - is causing it, Julian can’t help but be happy for her. She still mentions Jake now and then, but nowhere near the frequency she once did; whatever unrequited crush was once there, he figures it must have calmed down. 

In the end, Julian doesn’t give much thought to the possible mystery boyfriend. If it was serious, Amy would surely tell them, or at least tell him. Therefore, it comes as a pure shock when a late October evening, his half-hearted Instagram scrolling leads to a major discovery. 

Julian recently moved in with his boyfriend of five months - Lucas - and while he usually doesn’t have as much time to spend on social media as he’d like, he’s found that during an episode of Game of Thrones is his best shot. Lucas is too into the show to care what Julian does as long as he can rest his head on Julian’s shoulder and have his hair played with, and the episodes are long enough for Julian to thoroughly go through his own Twitter, Facebook, and Instagram feeds. So thoroughly, in fact, that sometimes he has time to go down the rabbit hole of random accounts and comments discussing Broadway shows or veganism, or simply do some benevolent stalking of his loved ones. Go through what accounts his sister follows, for example, and see if there’s anything juicy there she’s not telling him during their weekly phone calls. 

There are a lot of inspirational accounts about books and studying, even an account that seems to be centered specifically around laminated documents. She dutifully follows simon_says- the Instagram created by their youngest brother to advertise the supposedly successful YouTube channel no family member truly understands the point of - as well as a bunch of her friends from college and what seems to be every single Santiago family member who has social media. She follows a single account for a handmade jewelry store that Julian quickly scrolls through, and then she follows her co-workers.

Jake Peralta’s Instagram is frequently updated. Mostly with quirky selfies of himself, but also with pictures of chicken wings, Taylor Swift records, and pictures taken together with a short-grown man in beige clothing tagged as charles-foodie-boyle. He’s posted a single selfie in which Amy appears as well, grimacing behind her desk, but Julian doesn’t make anything of it. Considering there’s a twenty-to-one ratio of pictures Charles is tagged in versus pictures Amy is tagged in, he would almost consider it more likely that Jake’s dating him. He checks out Charles Instagram, simply out of curiosity. That’s when the heart attack occurs.

Charles Boyle posted a picture merely an hour ago. It’s taken in a gruff-looking bar, the lighting a little dim and the details a little out of focus, but he can see the three people in it clear as day. Charles is in the front of the picture, smiling enthusiastically and doing a thumbs up, but Julian’s attention is drawn to what’s happening in the background. His sister, wearing a purple blouse he’s seen at many a family dinners and her hair up, is pictured kissing the one and only Jake Peralta.

Julian has never been so angry about an application lacking a zoom function before. Not that he needs it; it’s clearly his sister and it’s clearly Jake Peralta, he’s looked at the man’s face in enough selfies to be certain, and they’re clearly kissing. She even has a hand on his shoulder, displaying more PDA than Julian had ever thought his sister was physically capable of. There are two beers next to them on the bar table, but it’s a work night and Amy’s not the type to get black-out drunk on weeknights. Not black-out drunk enough to be kissing random people. No, Julian has to get the bottom of this, and he has to get to the bottom of this now. 

“Lucas?”

“Yeah?” His boyfriend’s voice is distant, his green eyes focused on their television screen.

“I have to make a phone call. Family emergency.”

“Okay,” Lucas mumbles, squeezing Julian’s knee when he disentangles himself and leaves for their bedroom. “Be back soon?”

“I promise!” He half-shouts, unsure if he’ll be able to stick to the wording of soon. He has a lot of questions for the person he’s about to call, and he’s still formulating most of them in his head as his phone searches for and calls up Amy Santiago.

She answers after three signals. She must still be at the bar, he judges from the odd clinking glass and the muffled conversations in the background, and there’s a confused tone to her voice when she speaks.

“Julian? Did anything happen? Is there an emergency of some kind?”

You bet there’s an emergency, he wants to say. You not telling us about your dating life. 

“You’re dating Jake Peralta, aren’t you?”

There’s silence on the other end of the phone. Then, a yet more confused, but also curious, voice.

“How on Earth did you figure that out?”

“I, uh, Instagram-stalked you,” he admits, somewhat sheepishly. “I was bored, and I.. I went onto Charles Boyle’s account? He had a picture of you and Jake, that he posted like an hour ago. You two were… kissing.”

Yet more silence, then a loud and angry statement, shouted at someone else on the other side. 

(“Charles! I’m going to kill you!”

“Ames, why are you killing Charles this time?”)

“Sorry,” she says when she returns to the phone, not with as much background noise now; she must have walked a bit away. “I’ll yell at him later. But yeah - uh - it’s true, I guess.”

“So you’re dating?”

Amy sighs. “Please don’t tell mom about it. You know how she is about everyone I date.”

“Yeah, yeah, you don’t have to remind me twice,” he assures her, “but now tell me everything. How long have you been dating?”

“A little over four months,” she admits. “I mean, I almost thought it was obvious - I feel like I’ve talked about him a lot.”

“You talked even more about him before you were dating!”

“Did I?”

“Yes.”

“Really?”

“Yes. You literally didn’t shut up about him,” Julian snorts, thinking back to when he first questioned her about it on that winter walk. “Either way - I’m… happy for you.”

He can’t see her reaction on the other end of the call, but he has a distinct feeling that she’s smiling, the kind of shy but genuine smile often accompanied by blushing cheeks.

“Thanks, Julian. I’m really happy, too.”

“He’s treating you well and all those things, right?”

“Obviously.”

“Because I’d beat him up otherwise. Or I’d send Tony to do it,” he offers. “Or pay Simon to make a video about him? Point is I’d find a way.”

This makes Amy laugh, a burst of melodic laughter that reminds him of inside jokes and morning cartoons when they were younger.

“I think I’m good, thanks. Jake’s amazing. I can tell you about him over lunch next week?”

“Lunch next week sounds great.”

“Talk to you later?”

“Absolutely. Have a good night, Ames.”

She hangs up on him. After making a single victory gesture in the bedroom mirror, Julian immediately phones Tony to inform him there’s a winner in the bet on whether Amy would ever date a coworker.

JANUARY 2016

Julian meets the famous Jake Peralta for the first time four months later. At that point, he's built up so much curiosity it feels like he's bursting at the seams, itching to actually meet the person he's heard about since the day his sister transferred to the Nine-Nine. He's excited, but he’s also wary. Amy's talked about this guy in every single phone call and meeting he's had with her for the last months, insisting that you’d love him, Julian, I really think you’d get along until Julian had started to question whether she was trying to pair him together with Jake. 

The information Julian has gathered is that Jake is supposedly brilliantly funny with a sweet personality, an amazing detective, worthless at math and basketball and an intense fan of Die Hard and Taylor Swift. (The last piece of information, Julian’s gathered on his own through more professional brotherly Instagram stalking. It’s the same method he’s used to discover that Amy doesn’t, for once, have horrible taste; Jake Peralta actually is cute when he’s not grimacing in pictures. Not Julian’s type, but cute.)

It’s overwhelmingly positive information. Then again, Amy described Teddy Wells with nearly as many positive adjectives to a beginning, and the hours Julian spent listening to that man talk about pilsners are hours he’ll never get back. Therefore, it’s a positive surprise when Jake shows up to the casual siblings-and-partners dinner and lives up to Amy’s description.

He’s far more handsome in person than his Instagram feed makes him out to be, which Lucas seconds before mentioning to Julian that someone should give Jake a proper lesson in taking non-quirky selfies. As a service to the world, he says, and Julian punches him in the shoulder before agreeing.

Jake is visibly nervous to meet so many of the brothers at the same time, seeming tense and giving short replies to a beginning, but once he relaxes, Julian is fully prepared to agree with his sister - Jake is funny. He’s genuine, a natural in conversations, and he chimes in with the jokes or comments no one else would think of. He’s effortlessly nice, almost remembers every different brother’s name, and it’s clear that he meets the most obligatory criteria; he makes Amy happier than Julian’s seen her in a long time. She’s almost shining, grinning and laughing and watching her boyfriend with a gaze so enamored it would have made Julian nauseous if it had been anyone else. He later catches Jake looking at her in the exact same way.

The new couple sticks together for the duration of the evening, never leaving each other’s side for more than a couple minutes. It doesn’t even seem like they’re thinking of it but simply gravitate towards each other without a second thought, seeming displaced once the other one leaves. Julian watches them share secret smiles, looks and squeezes of hands without having a clue what the two of them are communicating, only that they seem to be checking in with each other, speaking a sort of private language. It’s all kinds of cheesy and it’s all the lovey-dovey-ness he can stomach for a day when he can see them kiss through the window the moment they’ve left, but he loves his sister, so he lets her be. He’s happy for her.

NOVEMBER 2017

Because Julian now follows Charles Boyle on Instagram, he finds out about the engagement through an excessive number of insta-stories the moment he wakes up on November 1st, 2017. Amy doesn’t answer her phone for a full three hours after Julian’s first tried to reach her (he does not want to know why), but when she does, she facetimes him on his lunch break to show off the ring and tell the slightly insane story of how the proposal went down. 

The proposal follows almost immediately upon Jake’s release from prison. Even before that, the couple had already spent six months apart while he was in witness protection and Amy told all her brothers they were broken up but whispered the truth into Julian’s ear late at night after a couple of glasses of wine. From the stories Amy’s told him, he’s wondered more than once how many more brutal hurdles this couple will have to face, and it’s with great happiness he congratulates her on the engagement. She deserves this. Jake deserves this, they deserve this, and he couldn’t be happier for them.

“So I win the craziest engagement for the year,” Amy brags when she’s told him everything, and Julian has to agree that she does. Then he starts sketching up plans for a private two-person heist he can surprise Lucas with. 

MAY 2018

Julian isn’t at his sister’s wedding. He was going to be, thank you very much, he wasn’t intending to miss it, but apparently, nothing’s ever simple in his sister’s life and a bomb threat interrupts the planned event and sends every member of the Santiago family back to their respective homes and hotel rooms. The actual wedding, he learns, takes place outside their precinct with the couple’s colleagues and a few gawking New Yorkers as witnesses, while the real family has to be happy with an impromptu dinner at a nearby restaurant the next day. 

It's a chaotic dinner. Luis, Christian’s and Isaac’s kids are spilling food and getting overtired, Roger Peralta and Victor are massaging their own shoulders while shooting each other threatening looks, Simon’s filming and there is definitely a hint of competition to every toast held by the bride and groom’s parents. Still, it's pleasant, and there is laughter and smiles all around when the just-married couple tells the story of how their wedding day went down. 

They're almost sickeningly in love, Julian notes, acting like they're part of their own private universe where they can finish each other's sentences and give each other glances that he supposes are meant to be secretive but definitely isn't. They were only a couple of minutes early to the dinner - late in Santiago measurements - and the buttons on Jake’s shirt were clearly buttoned in a haste. Julian loves his little sister and all, but he did not need to think about that image of her.

In the end, he's happy if she's happy, and just-married Amy is by far the happiest Amy he's seen in his life. She barely listens when he tells her he and Lucas are leaving, watching Jake with googly heart-eyes as he's telling Tony some story and glancing back at Amy about every tenth second. 

It's what she deserves. As much as he doubts any man could ever be good enough for her, the way Jake watches Amy with awe every time she speaks is everything Julian could ever wish for his sister.

#my writing #b99fandomevents #b99 summer 2019 fic exchange #b99 fic #brooklyn 99 fic #brooklyn nine-nine fic

[peraltasames]

the stars lean in a little closer all because of you

for @b99peraltiago - my assignment for the @b99fandomevents summer fic exchange <33 the prompts i used were “baby peraltiago” and “beach house 2.0″

adele, i’m sorry this is short and not my best but i plan on writing the other prompts you sent in a much longer fic which i didn’t have time finish by the deadline due to crazy life stuff but i’m trying to write asap!! i just quickly wrote this little thing so i at least had something to give you today, hope you like it!

-

Amy Santiago, as logical and practical as she may be, has admittedly never been the best at preventing emotions from clouding her judgement. She knows on a logical level that leaving their four-month old baby for one weekend with Jake’s mother while they’re at Charles’ beach house less than two hours away should not be a big deal, but there’s some combination of new mom hormones and her tendency to imagine all possible worst case scenarios that’s making her far more worried than she should be.

“What if something bad happens and she has to go to the hospital?” Amy mutters, anxiously fiddling with her phone in the passenger seat as Jake takes the exit to the  area of the Hamptons home to the Boyles’ vacation residence. It’s not the first of a long slew of questions she’s bounced off her husband over the course of the drive.

Each has received a similar response - Jake’s calm, soothing voice assuring her that everything was going to be just fine.

“Ames, my mom can take her to the hospital in that extremely unlikely scenario.”

“Your mom’s car is super unreliable,” Amy grumbles. “What if it breaks down in traffic or won’t start?”

“I’m sure she could call an ambulance if it was an emergency-“

“Oh my god, you think she’s gonna need an ambulance? Maybe we should just turn around, there’s still time-”

“Ames,” Jake repeats, slightly louder but just as loving and affectionate as the last fifty attempts he’s made to calm her down. He slows down to a stop at the red light and leans over to grab her hand and force her to look him in the eyes. “It’s going to be fine, I promise. We’re gonna have a nice, relaxing weekend away and we can call my mom every hour to check in if you want, okay?”

There’s still a pit in her stomach, but it subsides slightly as his warm brown eyes shine with familiar reassurance. It’s his everything’s okay face, his I’m right here face. It means everything will be fine, and she’s learned over the years to trust that he’s probably right.

“Okay.”

Within the first few hours at Charles’ she’s begun to feel the relaxing effects of the laughter of their friends, many of whom are parents themselves, and the alcohol she’s consumed with her new, much lower tolerance. After a few glasses of wine she’s occupied her favourite position since the first DOG party she and Jake attended as a couple - curled up on his lap on the comfiest armchair they can find, drinking beer and whispering jokes to each other while trying to remain somewhat involved in the group conversation.

“This is nice,” she slurs in Jake’s ear, shifting so her head can rest more comfortably on his chest. “It’s been a - a while since we got time to ourselves like this.”

“It’s so nice,” he agrees with a soft peck to her forehead.

“You guys got way softer since having a baby, it’s gross,” Rosa chimes in from the couch next to them, her feet up on the table as she distractedly texts Jocelyn with one hand and takes a swig from her beer with the other.

Amy makes a face at her friend and contently snuggles closer to Jake, relishing the rare opportunity to share a moment with him that isn’t interrupted by work or a crying infant or some other responsibility of adult life.

“You’re doing great, by the way,” Jake points out, glancing at his watch. “We haven’t called my mom in almost two hours now. New record.”

Amy smiles, her eyelids becoming heavier with every passing minute and every stroke of his hand up and down her back.

“‘M not a crazy mom, right? I just miss her sometimes - well, all the time - but she’s still so tiny and I just want to protect her because the world is so scary and big, Jake.”

“You’re not a crazy mom, babe, you’re a good mom.” Jake tucks her hair back behind her ear and strokes her cheek with his thumb. “I feel it too. I miss her right now, even.”

A brief, knowing look is all it takes for them to abandon their drinks and their friends and race upstairs to their bedroom. They realize belatedly - the next morning when they’re teased relentlessly at breakfast for being “horndogs” - how this looks, but they have important matters to which they must attend.

And maybe they are the crazy parents sneaking away to FaceTime their four month-old who very much can’t speak from the bedroom of a party, but they couldn’t care less.

#b99 summer 2019 fic exchange #b99fandomevents #myfics

[stolethekey]

we could be a beautiful miracle, unbelievable

for @johnny-and-dora; sorry your assigned gifter couldn’t write you a fic! hopefully this is some consolation. i was dying at the idea of a soulmate au but the turnaround time was so short i couldn’t really gather inspiration for it, so here’s some peraltiago fluff + pre-relationship pining!! happy summer hope you enjoy

and shoutout to the crew at @b99fandomevents for putting so much work into this event!! thanks for giving me the opportunity to write an extra fic ;)

read on ao3

If Amy Santiago has a fatal flaw, it is not hubris.

It may seem like she is overly proud, at times—she can be prone to excessive humble-bragging, and Gina is the first to point out that she slips mentions of her achievements into daily, mundane conversations—but underneath the veneer of confidence lies a crippling self-doubt that refuses to let go of her thoughts. It’s the same anxiety that keeps her up at night, wondering whether she truly earned her promotion to detective and whether she should actually still be a beat cop. It’s the one that whispers remember when Jake beat you in arrests? at random times throughout the day, even though that bet ended almost an entire year ago and Jake’s fake date wasn’t nearly as terrible as she thought it was going to be.

Apparently, it’s called “imposter syndrome,” and she has it bad.

But Amy is nothing if not practical, and she’s mostly learned to manage it. She flaunts her achievements publicly so that the doubt stays buried in her mind, and her colleagues are none the wiser. In a way, she thinks, the uncertainty is helpful—it means she’s constantly pushing herself, constantly trying to be better, and that’s a good thing.

It’s a good thing, which is why she doesn’t question her decision to throw a New Year’s Eve party for the Nine-Nine.

Last year’s Thanksgiving fiasco is still fresh in her mind, and even though she knows that it is objectively questionable to be so hung up about a party that she tried to throw a full year ago, she can’t help feeling like she needs to make up for it, like she needs to prove she can organize a fun event for her co-workers that doesn’t end in eating takeout at the precinct.

Plus, everyone at the Nine-Nine is closer now, which is evidenced by the fact that Jake barely bats an eye when she asks him to dress up.

“Why, got a hot new boyfriend you need me to make jealous?”

She winces slightly, but the regret that appears immediately in his eyes is enough to make her force a smirk. “Yeah, it’s that flasher I arrested last week.”

“Ew—”

“What can I say? He really made an impression.”

Jake laughs, and she determinedly ignores the way her stomach jolts at the way the corners of his eyes crinkle.  

“So, six-thirty then? You can bring Sophia.”

His amusement fades into a soft smile that definitely does not make Amy feel warm and jittery inside. “I’ll be there. Sophia’s out of town, though—she’s spending the holidays with her parents.”

“Oh,” Amy says, trying not to sound too cheerful. “That’s too bad, seeing as I was planning on making my famous roast turkey to impress her.”

Jake snorts, but before he can say anything, Charles has somehow appeared at the edge of their desks, his face full of panic. “Amy, I love you, but please let me cook that turkey, please—”

“I was kidding,” she protests, trying to shove him away. “I’ve admitted defeat in the culinary world, okay? I’m gonna go get pasta beforehand.”

“Yeah, Charles, relax,” Jake says, grinning widely. “But you should still bring those octopus balls. Santiago loves those.”

Amy throws her stapler at him.

 ---

“Is this New Year’s-y enough?” Amy asks Kylie in the dressing room of the mall Express.

Kylie sighs. “Yes. It’s beautiful and you look beautiful wearing it, just as you have in the last ten dresses you’ve tried on. It’s just a house party for you and your coworkers, whom you see literally every day. There is no need to be this anxious.”

“I’m not anxious, I just want to make a good impression. If I’m asking everyone else to dress up, I have to look the part myself.”

“Mmmhmm,” Kylie hums, reaching over to unzip the back of Amy’s dress. “Well, whatever you’re not anxious about is going to lose his mind when he sees you in this. Seriously.”

“He has a girlfriend,” Amy snaps, shimmying out of the dress and snatching her leggings off the wall. “And this isn’t for him.”

It’s not, really, but as she walks out of the store with a shopping bag in hand, she wonders if it maybe is, just a little bit.

Her excitement is completely gone the morning of, as she wakes up with what feels like a throat full of sawdust and a sledgehammer pounding away at her head. She groans as she forces herself out of bed and into the shower, where she stays until the water runs cold and her shivering has gotten undeniably out of control.  

She steps out of the tub, wincing as the cold air hits her skin, and dries herself off as quickly as possible. The kitchen seems indomitably far away but she somehow manages to make it, pulling her sweatpants up as she walks down the hallway. It takes her what feels like an hour to make some tea and force some oatmeal down, and by the time she swallows her cold medicine her body feels like it has already run a marathon.

Ordinarily, her frustration at the situation would be more than overwhelming, but her head is throbbing, and as she types out a long, apologetic text message the only thing she can muster is a faint sense of defeat. Her eyes are already closing as she presses send, and she crawls back into bed with no more than a twinge of regret.

When she wakes up again, two things register in her mind: it’s dark outside, and her doorbell is ringing off the hook.

She gives a slight whimper of frustration as she slides out of bed, grabbing her sweatshirt and her phone on the way into the hallway.

“Unless I ordered some extra-strength Tylenol in my sleep,” she grumbles, yanking the door open, “I don’t want—oh.”

Jake’s eyes widen as they travel up and down her body, taking in her old T-shirt and disheveled hair.

“Sorry I’m late, I got stuck on the phone with my mom—um, did you prank me? Was this a pajama party?”

“No, I—I texted,” she manages to croak out, wincing at the sting in her throat. “Look—” She unlocks her phone and thrusts it halfheartedly at him.

“Oh,” Jake says, glancing at her open messages tab. “Um—you only sent it to Boyle.”

“What? Fuck—”

“It’s okay,” he says quickly, handing her phone back. “You’re sick, you were obviously just sleeping, I’m sorry—”

“No, it’s my fault,” Amy mutters. She wonders dimly how everyone but Jake somehow knew not to come, but the pounding in her head overpowers her brief curiosity. “Sorry, you could’ve made other plans—”

“Nah, I would’ve just been watching Die Hard.”

“Okay,” Amy says numbly. She tries to say something else, but neither her mouth nor her brain seems to be working properly. “I’m cold.”

Jake laughs softly, then steps inside, setting his eight-dollar bottle of wine on the floor. “Come on,” he says, turning her gently by her shoulders. “I’ll guide you back to bed.��

He watches her shuffle across her bedroom floor, drink a glass of water, and crawl back underneath the covers before backing out of the room. The gentle smile on his face as he closes the door is the last thing she sees before she drifts off again.

--

She wakes to the smell of chicken soup.

It’s wafting through her bedroom door, so she gets up and opens it, noting with some relief that the pain in her throat has lessened somewhat. Taylor Swift’s New Year’s Day plays softly as she walks down the hallway, and as she emerges into her kitchen, she sees Jake bent over the sink, his jacket lying on her couch.

“Hi,” she says softly, ignoring the way her heart skips at the sight of him washing dishes in her kitchen.

“Hi,” he smiles, pausing the music and turning to look at her. “How’re you feeling?”

“Better,” she says honestly, noting that a mini pharmacy now sits next to a glass of water on her kitchen counter. “You—um, you’re still here?”

“Oh—uh, yeah, I hope that’s okay—I was going to leave, but you seemed really sick, and I just—”

“No, I’m glad,” she mumbles, and he grins. Her stomach flips a little, and she clears her throat. “Is that soup I smell?”

“Oh, yeah.” He gestures at the pot on the stove. “It’s an old family recipe—my mom used to make it for me whenever I got sick, so I figured—”

Her eyes land on a bag on the counter and she freezes, her hand in the utensil drawer. “And those potato pancakes?”

“Um, I bought them,” he says, and he’s definitely blushing. “Just in case you didn’t like the soup.”

She can hear Kylie laughing at her as she makes her way over to the stove, trying to hide her smile. “I can like two things.”

He laughs, then grins at the noise she makes as the soup hits her taste buds. “Good?”

“This is incredible,” she says, pouring herself a hefty serving. “I can’t believe you can cook.”

“Well, I can’t, really. But I made my mom teach me that recipe after I moved out. Just feels like home, you know?”

She smiles as she brings the bowl to her lips. “Yeah.”

Jake puts the plate he was washing in her dish rack, and as he wipes his hands on her dish towel she feels a sudden surge of completely unwelcome affection. “So,” he says, wiggling his eyebrow at her, “feeling up to a game of Go Fish?”

She rolls her eyes as she brushes past him, grabbing the glass of water as she goes. “I’m sick, not an eight-year-old child.”

He snorts, but produces a deck of cards anyway, and as they settle onto Amy’s living room rug she tries her best not to get comfortable.

It doesn’t work, even as he has a girlfriend he has a girlfriend he has a girlfriend keeps parading through her thoughts, and she completely loses track of time as they laugh their way through every card game in the books and multiple rematches.

She has just triumphantly laid her final cards down in their game of Speed when something explodes outside, sending Jake shooting to his feet.

“Fireworks!”

She takes his offered hand and stands up. “It’s already midnight?”

“Guess so.” Jake pulls the curtains back as a shower of green bursts spectacularly through the sky. “Sorry you did all that work for a party that didn’t happen.”

“It’s not a big deal,” she says, and she finds that she means it. “There’ll always be more chances. There are plenty of holidays for me to torture people.”

He chuckles. “Still—it sucks that you got sick today, of all days. It’s kind of a shitty way to start the year.”

She gazes through her window, her eye catching his reflection in the glass. “Oh, I don’t know,” she says softly. “It’s not so bad.”

Amy can feel his eyes on her, and for some reason she turns to meet his gaze. She thinks there are flecks of gold in the brown of his eyes, and as the fireworks continue to explode the gold morphs into blues, then greens, then reds and yellows. She feels no desire to tear herself away from the kaleidoscope of color in front of her, and she swallows as a massive cheer arises from the ground beneath her window.

Jake clears his throat and looks away, his fingers playing at the hem of his shirt. She follows his lead, turning to watch the crowd beneath her building dance drunkenly down the street. A slight disappointment works its way into her gut, but there is a sliver of hope along with it—misplaced optimism, maybe, but a brief glimpse of something that could be.

And despite all the planning, all the agonizing and dress-buying for a party that imploded so suddenly, Amy feels mostly at peace. Her therapist would be proud, she thinks. She wonders how much of it is thanks to the presence of the man standing next to her, gazing at the explosions of color outside with an almost childlike wonder in his eyes.

There are times she thinks she missed her chance, but today is the first day of a new year. And what are new years for if they’re not for second chances, anyway?

Her voice is soft when she speaks. “Happy New Year, Jake.”

It takes only a moment before he answers, a slightly wistful smile on his face. “Happy New Year, Ames.”

#my fics #brooklyn nine nine #brooklyn 99 #b99 #b99 summer 2019 fic exchange #peraltiago #jake peralta x amy santiago #jake peralta #amy santiago #sick fic #pining!amy #b99fandomevents #jake x amy #peraltiago fanfiction

[johnny-and-dora]

hold me in this wild, wild world

for @meepmorpperaltiago, who asked for “engagement” and “forbidden love au with a happy ending” as part of the @b99fandomevents summer 2019 fic exchange! i hope you like it!

"It takes every ounce of willpower he has left not to kiss her like it’s their last night on earth. Despite the odds, he refuses to kiss her like he’s saying goodbye."

or, a forbidden love/royalty/fairytale au in which jake comes up with an alternative solution to amy being forced into an arranged marriage with the most boring man in the seven kingdoms. read on ao3

-

He’s late, as usual.

Jake’s foray into the forest for their secret meetings can usually be best described as a leisurely amble – tonight, it’s forgone for a sort of jog as he hurries along the narrow dirt path he knows like the back of his hand, ignoring his embarrassing shortness of breath and the sharp stitch in his side.

It’s strange, the light feeling in his chest – he can’t tell exactly what’s causing it. It’s probably eagerness to finally be alone with Amy after weeks of having to watch her politely but reluctantly spend most of her precious free time in the company of the most boring man in the seven kingdoms. It could be something more akin to dread at the ominous urgency of her message, evident even in Rosa’s deadpan delivery, telling him to get to their clearing as soon as he could.

Above all, he thinks it’s desire – this endless, empty yearning he’s been carrying around with him like an anchor, a powerful heavy longing to hear her melodic laughter or hold her close or even just to have anything more than an apologetic grimace and a tiny soft smile in his direction when she can be sure no-one is looking to get him through the day.

He thought it would be less painful seeing her with Teddy secure in the knowledge that she wasn’t interested – she’d spent most of their last meeting, a stolen moment behind the stables, reassuring Jake that he had absolutely nothing to worry about. It had helped, for a while, but he couldn’t help the ugly jealousy twisting his insides up in knots whenever the prince so much as respectfully shook her hand.

He quickly waves off any more invasive thoughts of Teddy and quickens his pace - whatever this light feeling is, it’s a powerful motivator, and it’s not long before he can hear the trusted babble of the brook which tells him he’s not far from their clearing.

She’s waiting for him, of course – her back is turned and it’s the perfect opportunity to sneak up on her, except he’s too busy being mesmerised by the gentle curl of her shiny dark hair, the way it elegantly cascades down her back. Amy only wears it down here, for him; a flicker of warmth starts to glow in his chest and for the first time all week he feels himself finally relax.

She’s illuminated by the hues of the golden hour, liquid dusk pouring through the trees. A soft halo of light encompasses her almost completely – it’s as if, just for a moment, the forest can appreciate how heavenly she always appears to him. If he feels a thousand times lighter here, he can’t imagine what it must be like for her – how sacred this time they can steal away together is, away from rules and responsibilities and everyone.

He’s escaping throwing away mouldy bread and blowing off work to play card games with Charles – she’s escaping a remarkable life of activism, royal politics, charity work and fancy banquets that he has to cater for. Jake still can’t quite believe after all this time that he’s somehow lucky enough to know her, let alone be with her.

Neither of them care particularly for the crown; here, with him, Amy can be truly herself. She’s pretty awesome as a princess, but as a person she is truly, absolutely radiant in every way he can think of. He clears his throat, soft with unadulterated affection – there are no facades here, no formalities, and he craves her gentle smile more than he ever has before.

The broken, pained look on her tear stained face as she turns towards him practically turns him to ice.

He’s by her side at an instant – she buries her sobs into his chest as he instinctively wraps his arms around her, panic flooding his entire body. He hurries to ask her what’s wrong - she shakes her head so violent he quickly switches to whispering soothing words of comfort, trying to guide her breathing. It only pulls her deeper into hysteria, so instead he strokes her hair and lets her cry herself out.

When she finally looks up at him, he notices two small stray braids in her hair and moves to gently brush them out, affection overpowering everything else. Her eyes are these dark, intense pools that he’d get completely lost in if she’d look at him for more than a second at a time - She moves out of his embrace only to produce some fancy embroidered silk handkerchief from a pocket and dry her tears, averting his gaze as if embarrassed of her outburst.

(He wants nothing more than to tell her that she’s the most beautiful woman in the world even when she has snot dripping from her nose, but he senses now might not be the right time.)

“S-sorry.” She hiccups, taking slow deep breaths; for the first time he notices that she’s trembling and instantly shrugs off his cloak, draping it around her without another word. It’s comically oversized; in another lifetime he would have laughed, but now it’s an effort to even speak with the fear clawing up his insides.

“Ames, what’s wrong? What happened?” She bites her lip, looking down at her clasped hands – her nails, usually pristinely manicured as per professional convention, have been bitten half to death. Something is very, very wrong.

“It’s…It’s Teddy.” She finally manages to croak, and he fears the worst, clenching his fists – something dark and angry must flicker across his face because her eyes widen and she’s quick to elaborate. “Nothing, nothing like that, he’s barely touched me the whole time he’s been here, I thought he got the message but he-“

She takes another shuddering, ragged breath, attempting to compose herself. The light feeling has vanished completely, only to be replaced with heavy, sinking dread as he fears the worst.

“He’s going to propose to me tomorrow morning.” She says, so quietly and so small he can barely hear. “And…and my parents say I have to accept. For the future of the kingdom.”

His stomach drops, and Jake just sinks.

It’s not like they weren’t expecting this – deep down, he’s been dreading since he first kissed her, fearing that this kind of happiness can’t last, knowing that they can’t sneak around for forever. As he’s fallen deeper and deeper in love with Amy, it has become harder and harder to just compartmentalise, to forget, to keep moving forward without fear of what’s in their future. To wonder, heart heavy, if they could ever have one.

He just expected it to happen so soon – in his heart, he’s always naively believed that they still had time, that they never would have to acknowledge the possibility that they might be it for one another and all the terrifying consequences that might bring.

The Santiago royal family has a reputation to uphold, and Jake’s pretty sure that he doesn’t quite fit the image that they’re going for. He’s always been sure that Amy’s fairy-tale happily ever after isn’t designed to have him in it; but knowing that and having to accept that are two very different things. Expecting this doesn’t make it any less like having his heart physically ripped out of his chest.

Nothing could have prepared him for falling in love with the smartest, most determined and most caring woman he’s ever known. Nothing could have prepared him for this kind of pain, ice cold and burning, apocalyptic heartbreak crashing down all at once.

Worst of all, nothing could have ever prepared him for the overwhelming anguish of seeing the same pain reflected back on Amy’s face.

“I won’t do it. They can throw me out or lock me up, I don’t care, I won’t-“

“-Ames, we always knew this could happen-“

“So? That doesn’t make this stupid patriarchal bullshit tradition any less fucked up!” Her anger startles both him and a few nearby nesting birds – he notes a flash of regret in her eyes before her face hardens into a picture of determination.

“I love you. Not Teddy, not anyone else they can set me up with no matter how many troops they’ve commanded or banquets they’ve organised. You. I’m not going to...I could never…” Her lip trembles and he wraps her up in his arms again, desperately trying to remain calm for her sake when all he wants to do is disappear into the forest with her and never come back again.

He’s quiet, for a long time; all that surrounds them is the steady, boundless flow of the nearby stream, crickets chirping at their feet, and the muffled sound of occasional shuddering sobs, slowly petering out as the sun begins to set, revealing muted hues of pink and orange.

Rarely has he ever been rendered speechless – as they find themselves sat together on the mossy ground, resting against the oldest tree in the clearing, hands almost defiantly intertwined, he can’t even begin to vocalise all the things he wants to say. He just wants her.

“Run away with me?”

“Amy…” He tries to be gentle but he just sounds tired, somehow a thousand years older – he feels like the slightest push might crumble him into dust. She places both of her hands in his and he squeezes them on instinct, never wanting to let go.

“I’m serious. Please, I’m not going to just leave you, I can’t…” She trails off again, a fresh wave of tears threatening to consume her. It strikes fear into his heart more than anything else - he’s never seen her like this. He’s comforted her before – he’s found himself paralysed by her searching gaze many times before, but he’s never once found this kind of hollow desperation there.

She’s always calm, always composed in the face of a crisis, the poster child for what a leader should be. Her determination, her fierceness, her outright stubbornness comes as naturally to her as breathing – more than that, they’re some of the endless reasons why (despite his best efforts) he couldn’t help but fall in love with her. Water is wet, the sky is blue, and Amy never runs away from anything.

It occurs to him that, maybe for the first time, she doesn’t know what to do – she’s as lost and hopeless as he is, and that only breaks his heart further.

“I gathered up as much old jewellery and coins as I could find in my room.” Amy takes a weighty velvet pouch from her pocket, shaking it to prompt a jingle as if he needs some kind of proof. “It’s not much, but it’ll be enough to get us over the border. If we left tonight we could be halfway there before anyone even notices I’m gone.” She’s misread his silence for uncertainty, for lack of faith in her - he sighs, long and hard, forces his eyes shut as if to visualise the right words in his mind.

The truth is, he’s thought about them running away together more often than he’d like to openly admit. The prospect of a normal, simple life far away from everything keeping them apart has proved too tempting not to indulge in at least once in a while, more than ever lately since Teddy arrived and they’ve had to be more careful than ever.

He’s got nothing to lose, really – sure, he’d miss his mom, and Charles, probably Rosa, but they could send letters, maybe even visit after a few months. He could bake and Amy could write and they could have a peaceful, idyllic happily ever after they can design for themselves. The truth is, he’d be willing to give up everything he has now for Amy in a heartbeat.

He just can’t let her do the same for him.

“Amy Santiago, I would run away with you anytime, anyplace – but not today.”

“Why not?” Her brows are furrowed so severely fear strikes his heart again for an entirely different reason, but he presses on, allowing a second of regret that they’re not halfway to the border right now before it swallows him up completely.

“Ames, I love you but I can’t let you throw away your entire life just for me – I’m not worth it, I can’t ask you to leave everything behind-“

“- But I don’t care about the royalty-“

“I know, I know. I was talking about your family – your brothers, your parents, Rosa…” She softens a little at that and he takes the opportunity to take her hand and squeeze it. “It’s more than that - you’re a natural leader, Amy. You love what you do and you’re incredible at doing it. You’re too kind and good and brilliant to not do what you do, to not help everyone you can.”

He half expects her to yell at him, throw the bag in his face, storm off into the night – instead, she smiles. It’s small, desperately sad, but it’s something. She reaches up to cup his face and presses a long, languid kiss to his lips – it takes every ounce of willpower he has left not to kiss her like it’s their last night on earth. Despite the odds, he refuses to kiss her like he’s saying goodbye.

“I don’t deserve you.” She says, so softly he can barely hear. He shakes his head – it’s something he’s said to her many, many times before. She’s never once accepted it, and he’s not about to start.

“You deserve the world, Ames. And we both know you’d be terrible at a normal life. No big important galas to organise or constitutions to update? You’d be bored to death by the end of the week.” She exhales a shaky laugh and he nudges her playfully, trying to regain some sense of balance despite his entire universe being shifted off its axis.

For a brief moment, no more tears will fall, no more anger or sense of cosmic injustice seems to coarse through his veins; instead there’s only peace as she nestles into his shoulder and he presses a kiss to the top of her head. It could be minutes, hours, maybe centuries before either of them move again; he’s not sure. All he knows is that whatever time they have left together is far too short.

“So, what do we do now?”

“Watch the sunset and make out and then I’ll go get super drunk and set all the horses from Teddy’s carriage free as an epic revenge prank?” He’s only half joking. “What do you think we should do?”

“I don’t know. If I had more time, I could try and find a loophole, or organise a protest, get a petition together to abolish this stupid tradition once and for all, but…“ She presses her lips together, suddenly lost in thought. He can’t help but feel an almost cruel, blinding twist of affection at the thought of finding someone who’s willing to stage a nationwide protest just to be with him.

For the first time all evening, the tiniest spark of hope begins to flicker and glow.

He’s been thinking about their future a lot, lately; while most of his nightmares feed and grow on his fear on them being forced apart, there’s one other daydream that he’s been having more than ever. He’s had his grandmother’s ring tucked safely away for a long time now. And he’s never really believed in magic, but he thinks if there was any time and place for a tiny miracle then it would probably be here, in this clearing, with her.

He takes a deep breath.

“I…might have an idea.”

“What is it?” She sits up straight and gazes at him attentively as if she’s ready to take notes; he loves her with every fibre of his being.

“You don’t have to do it if you don’t want to, okay? Because this…you deserve to have a choice, Ames, and I don’t want you to think I’m doing this just because I don’t want you to be with him, it’s because I really want to and actually I’ve been thinking about it for a while now even though I know it’s still pretty early, that’s why I didn’t want to say-“

“Spit it out, Peralta.” She cuts his nervous ramblings short, and all the exasperated affection in her voice feels like coming home.

“Right, yeah, okay. Uh, Teddy’s proposing tomorrow morning, right?”

“Yes?”

“So…so what if I, uh, proposed first?” He can’t help the grin that slowly blossoms across his face, even as the momentum of the idea hits them both full force. “Beat him to it, y’know. Can’t marry him if you’re already engaged to someone else, right?” He laughs nervously, already feeling an obscene amount of adrenaline pumping through his body.

She’s silent, obviously stunned – a thick cloud of panic and self-doubt starts to overwhelm him and he instantly starts to backtrack. “Sorry, it’s probably a stupid idea, and like I said it’s absolutely your choice, 100%, but I really love you and-“

“Okay.” She says it slowly, all strong piercing gaze that slowly but surely turns to a warm smile and he thinks his soul might have actually left his body for a second because holy shit, okay, he’s actually going to do this instead of just daydreaming about it whenever he decorates a wedding cake or practising with his grandmother’s ring in the bath.

“Okay?” He asks, surprised by the complete disbelief in his voice; in his searching gaze, he finds the first real hope he’s had all day reflected in her eyes.

“Yeah. Yes! That…that actually could work.” Colour has returned to her face for the first time all evening - her smile is as bright as the sun now, brighter and livelier and so overwhelmingly beautiful. She reigns herself in after a second, however, concern washing over her face, as calm and considerate and Amy as ever.

“But…everyone would know. Are you sure you want that? I can’t ask you to give up your life either…”

“I don’t care.” He grins earnestly, then actually takes a second to think about it. “I mean…obviously, it’s going to be weird. And I know that it’s a huge change, but…” He takes her hand. “I can’t lose you. And I don’t want to sneak around anymore.”

“Neither do I.” Her eyes are crinkled with soft joy

“Okay then. Let’s, uh, get engaged!” He springs up on his feet, enthusiastically pulling her up with him with very little grace. They share a bout of half hysterical, blissful laughter as he gets down on one knee, still holding both her hands in his.

“I, uh, don’t have a ring on me.” He realises, slightly sheepish as her laugh continues to float like bubbles into the summer sunset sky.

“What would you do without me, huh?” She shakes her head, eyes still sparkling with amusement as she quickly drops his hands, digging through her velvet pouch until she finds an ornate gold ring that’s probably worth at least a full year of his salary.

He feels a second of sharp, hot embarrassment, familiar fears of inadequacy that is instantly dulled by the proud beam on her face as she places it into his palm. Of course she’s more prepared for this than he is – which sparks another idea.

“Wait…how about you do this?”

“Are you asking me to propose to you?” She raises an eyebrow, but he holds his ground.

“…Maybe.” He shrugs. “Screw stupid patriarchal bullshit tradition, right?”

The smile on her face is so wide he’s worried it might split her face in two; Jake silently vows there and then to dedicate the rest of his days to doing whatever he can to earn that smile from her.

“Definitely. Yes. Okay, um, let me think of what I want to say first.” He gives her back the ring and studies her fondly as she loses herself deep in thought – he can tell that she’s just itching for her notebook and quill to at least structure an outline first, and it just lights him up inside.

She is so consistent, and he doesn’t have the heart to tell her that she doesn’t really need to say anything at all. He already knows what his answer will be.

“Okay. I’m ready.” She shrugs off his cloak and kneels down opposite him – it’s dizzying. He’s still not sure that this isn’t one big fever dream, but if there’s even the slightest chance that joy like this is real, he’s willing to take it.

“I love you.” She begins; so soft and sincere and already perfect. “I love how you’ve always seen me for me, and not who I’m supposed to be. I love how you always remind me what actually matters. I love how you’ve shown me how to have a life outside of the one that’s always been designed for me.”

She takes a steading, shaky breath; he thinks I love you I love you I love you over and over and over again.

“You have this incredibly kind, good, wonderful heart. You love openly and unashamedly, and I want to love you that same way for the rest of my life, if that’s okay with you.”

He laughs, and it’s shaky too; he can actually feel all the emotion welling up inside of him like it’s all physically lodged in his throat. “It definitely is.”

“Cool.” She beams through tears; this time, her eyes never once leave his. “I want you and no-one else. This has always been my choice to make, and I choose you. Will you marry me?”

He kisses her intently then, unable to hold himself back any longer; he pulls her as close as he can, spinning her around, and it’s joy, the light feeling in his chest – pure unadulterated ecstasy that seems to crackle in the air around them, overwhelming wonder that this kind of happiness can last.

“Is that a yes?” She breathes as they finally break apart, eyes still shut, foreheads still pressed together. Even the rolling waves of the ocean would part for them, now, he’s sure of it. In this moment, the seven kingdoms would crumble and fall before they could be forced apart again.

“God, yes.” He says, kissing her again; the stars are watching fondly by now, and they’ll allow this tiny miracle, give their blessing to the ring that is comically far too small for Jake’s finger and yet also somehow completely perfect. He murmurs it against her lips, then into the top of her head as they hold each other, again and again and again until the word loses all meaning altogether.

He’s late home that night, too – but the light feeling in his chest never falters.

***

She’s late. It worries him.

Only by a minute or two, not long enough to justify sounding the castle alarms or bursting dramatically into her chambers. Barely enough to even be worried, and yet still enough to get him pacing frantically up and down the corridor outside the library – Amy’s favourite spot in the entire castle.

It has the most beautiful view of the lake and the forest beyond it; amongst a maelstrom of other feelings, he has a yearning to just drop everything and run out there now.  The only thing keeping him anchored to castle grounds is the deep rooted  fear of Amy herself probably executing him herself if he didn’t show up to this dinner.

(She’s been planning every intricate detail of this event for weeks; all he has to do is wear this ridiculous fancy outfit and not embarrass himself in front of her entire family. Easier said than done, especially as most of said family don’t exactly approve of their engagement.)

It’s love for Amy too, of course, that’s always kept him anchored; it’s why the familiar click-clack of her heels on the old wooden floor coming ever closer elicits such a fresh breath of relief.

“Hey, you wanted to see me?” She says, or at least that’s what he thinks she’s says; when he finally lays eyes on her Jake is slightly too busy being overwhelmed at the glowing presence before him to process anything else. He realises his mouth is hanging open a few seconds too late and promptly closes it, finding a quiet delight in the unmistakable blush on her cheeks.

“Oh, wow. You look beautiful.” She does; her ballgown is an sophisticated shade of dark red that compliments her perfectly, her skirt almost creating the illusion of floating as it wafts behind her. She’s all soft, practically lit up, the epitome of poise and grace – best of all, her hair, usually formally tied back in tight, complicated braids, falls loose in perfect curls that elegantly frame her face.

She looks like an oil painting, a masterpiece flawlessly sculpted and come to life - he is the luckiest man on earth.

“Thank you.” She smiles, shyly at first, before her grin broadens to mirror his own. “You look beautiful too.”

“Thanks.” He pulls a face, tugs at the stiff, almost suffocating collar of his fancy velvet cloak. “Kinda feels like I’m playing dress up.”

The brief respite of being completely mesmerised by his fiancée is quickly over; as if she can sense his shift in mood Amy steps closer to him, placing a comforting hand over his heart which he instinctively holds close.

“What did you want to talk to me about?”

He clenches his free fist, anxiety running white hot. “I feel like…it’s stupid.” He wants to run away more than ever, but her searching expression tells him she won’t let this go.

“What if I use the wrong fork?” He finally blurts, brain running wild with the conspiracy theory that this engagement dinner is really just a golden shining opportunity for Amy’s family to poke and prod at everything that’s ever made him feel not good enough for her.

She furrows her brow in confusion; he sighs, running his hand through his hair and then instantly worrying that he’s messed that up too. “What if I don’t use the fancy napkins correctly or I stain this fancy outfit or I don’t address the guests with their correct titles or-“

“- Jake –“

“- I just…don’t wanna mess this up. I don’t want your family to hate me more than they already do, and I know it doesn’t matter because the only thing that matters is what you think but…I just want to be…” He sighs again, frustration making his words dense and unusually heavy – this is a burden he’s been carrying around for a long time. “I just want to be good enough.”

“Jake.” She says again, more firmly than last time – when he forces himself to meet her gaze, there is already infinite comfort in her reassuring smile.

“You know why I’ve put so much effort into this stupid dinner?” He shakes his head. “It’s because I want to give my family the opportunity to see just how amazing you are.”

“You’re not going to mess this up – even if you do, you said it yourself. It doesn’t matter.” She pauses for emphasis, gently squeezing his hand. “Whatever happens, I’m going to be beside you the whole time. My family are going to have to accept that sooner or later, whether they approve or not.”

Her eyes glitter with familiar unshakeable determination and he feels his heart swell with gratitude. Water is wet, the sky is blue and Amy loves him. It doesn’t matter if he’s never sure of anything else again – that one certainty is more than enough to silence the doubts roaring in his chest.

“You’re amazing.” His tone is nothing but reverent; she blushes again.

“So are you. And half of my brothers already love you anyway. Manny’s practically desperate for your autograph.” They share a warm smile; for a second, he indulges in their own little bubble of happiness, letting the rest of the world fall away. He can’t wait to be married to her.

“Oh, wait.” He smacks his palm against his forehead, eyes wide. “I nearly forgot – uh, hold on a second.” He fumbles with the clasp of his cloak, undoing it to hastily reach for the ring he has safely tucked away in the breast pocket. He produces it with a theatrical flourish, and her eyes light up.

“Is that-“

“-My grandmother’s, yeah.” He grins brightly before gently slipping it on to her finger. She holds her hand up to the light to admire it properly; he’s sure it’s tiny glinting diamond barely compares to what she’s used to, but he hopes the sentimental value gives it more weight.

“I know it’s small, but-“

“It’s beautiful.” She says earnestly, quelling his fears yet again. “I love it. Thank you.” She cups his jaw and kisses him softly – the cool metal against his skin makes him smile against her lips, a twin to the ornate gold ring hanging around his neck.

“She would have really loved you.” He says, sincere; she quietly glows with pride and they share  another smile, this one rudely interrupted by the chiming of the clock tower outside. Amy’s eyes widen and she gives him an apologetic grimace, groaning in frustration.

“Oh no, I have to meet with the Ambassador about those new trading routes…”

“It’s fine.” He says, then laughs when she still looks concerned, waving her off. “Go! I’ll still be here when you get back, I promise.” No matter how much he loves the forest, he has no desire to escape there now that he’s found something so much more liberating.

“Are you sure you’re going to be okay?” She frowns, glancing at the clock again - for once his certainty refuses to waver.

“Of course I will. I’ve got you.”

“You’re so cheesy.”

“See you at eight.” He salutes playfully; she rolls her eyes and kisses him quick before striding off to go save the world.

As he watches her go, no ache of longing or yearning follows - he smiles to himself before heading down to the kitchen to see what samples of tonight’s feast he can persuade Charles to give him. It’s freeing, the ring around his neck - he doesn’t need to worry about what’s in their future or when the next precious second they can steal away together will be.  

They’ve got all the time in the world.

#b99 summer 2019 fic exchange #b99fandomevents #b99 #b99 fic #jake x amy #peraltiago #my writing #i am...a puddle #hope you enjoy <3

[joysmercer]

a summer rain is passing over, and it feels like a dream

Summary: 

Amy takes Jake to go see a play, but it's really the walk home afterward that he enjoys the most. (set a few weeks after 3x02)

Notes: 

This is my entry for the b99 Summer 2019 Fic Exchange, written for @storyinmyeyes and in response to her prompt of "Early-Relationship Rain Kisses." There are also hints of two of the other prompts as well, but definitely not in the expected context. Hope you like it!

Also, a huge thank you to @b99fandomevents for organizing the Exchange! 

The title is from the song "Once in a Lifetime" by Landon Austin (and thank you to @b99peraltiago for showing me these lyrics :D)

Read on Ao3

June 2015

To be perfectly honest, Jake wasn’t paying much attention when Amy ran excitedly into his apartment, brandishing two long white pieces of paper in her hands – tickets, she said, to her niece’s theater group’s summer production of Romeo and Juliet. For one thing, he was a little more concerned with the fact that she was here to pick him up at 7:35 in the morning, a full forty minutes before they actually had to be at work; for another, she was wearing this new purple pantsuit he hadn’t seen before, and she looked absolutely (and distractingly) amazing. As a result of this, and because Amy looked so excited for the event, Jake found himself agreeing to cancel the Lord of the Rings movie-marathon they had planned so they could go see the play instead. 

Now that they’re actually in the theater, Jake is slightly regretting this decision. Plays are not exactly his cup of tea: sitting in one place for a minimum of two hours, with little-to-no chance of seeing some actual Die Hard-level action sequences? No, thank you. On top of that, the only thing he knows about Shakespeare is that “Iago” is a character in Othello, and the English used in the play is a bit difficult for him to follow. But then again, no one speaks like that anymore, so it’s not exactly his fault. 

That being said, he has to admit, the puns and jokes are pretty great. If I were a character in this play, I would be Mercutio, Jake thinks, before whispering to Amy, “I want my last words to be as iconic as ‘tomorrow, you shall find me a grave man,’” which causes her to bury her face in his shoulder to muffle her giggles. 

In Jake’s humble opinion, Amy’s niece (who happens to be playing Mercutio) is carrying the entire play on her shoulders. Her line-delivery is flawless, and it’s clear from the way she carries herself onstage that she’s a natural actress. Jake tells Amy so during the intermission, and Amy replies with something along the lines of, “Of course she’s perfect, she’s a Santiago.” 

“Yeah, that makes sense. I mean, it kinda has to run in the family, because I also seem to have a pretty perfect girlfriend right here,” Jake says, and Amy laughs against his chest as the lights dim once more. The comfortable feeling of just being with her makes Jake zone out a bit, and pretty soon, he’s daydreaming of picnics and dinner-dates, completely ignoring the “love story” blossoming onstage – after all, he’s got a pretty good one here himself.

He’s shaken out of his reverie about an hour later, when Amy tugs at his hand, urging him out of his seat – as it turns out, the play is over, and the rest of the audience is giving the cast-members a standing ovation. Jake claps enthusiastically as Amy’s niece takes her solo bow, but for the remainder of the curtain-call, he jitters impatiently besides Amy, itching to leave the stuffy theater and go into the crisp New York air (it doesn’t help that it’s supposed to rain, and Amy gets so cute when she’s cold that Jake really, really wants to be outside as soon as possible). 

For some reason, after quickly hugging her brother and congratulating her niece, Amy tells them that she has a huge presentation at work tomorrow (she doesn’t), for which she’s completely unprepared for (when is she ever?), so she’s very sorry, but it’s absolutely necessary that she and Jake leave right now (it absolutely isn’t). She then proceeds to practically run outside, leaving him to mumble hurried apologies to the scowling old people they bump into on their way to the door. Right on cue, it starts drizzling as soon as they finally make it out, and Amy hurriedly pulls her coat-hood low over her head and stuffs a hand into Jake’s jacket pocket, her fingers curling around his. She turns to look up at him, and Jake gets so distracted by the raindrops that subsequently settle on her eyelashes that he doesn’t hear Amy start speaking. “What?” he asks, and Amy laughs.

“I was asking if you enjoyed your first real theater production,” she repeats. “I thought it was amazing. I’m glad we came today, aren’t you?”

The interesting thing is, despite not really liking (or understanding) the play itself, Jake did have a lot of fun, even if most of his own enjoyment came from seeing Amy’s, and the very last thing he wants to do is make her stop smiling as widely as she is right now. “I loved it,” he grins back at her, and she sighs happily as they start walking home. “I do have one question, though,” he says a few seconds later. “If you enjoyed the play so much, why were you in such a rush to leave?”

Amy blushes, and says, “You seemed a little agitated in there. Actually, that’s why I suggested we walk here instead of driving, even though the forecast said it was going to rain. I figured you would prefer some time outside after being inside a theater for that long.” 

Jake’s heart flutters with gratitude, and a dozen warm thoughts start buzzing around in his brain. He doesn’t really know how to put them into words, though, so he simply says, “Thanks,” smiling and squeezing her hand, trying to convey all the emotion he’s feeling into the simple gestures. He’s not surprised, exactly, by her words, but then again, he hadn’t quite realized she cared so much. 

They walk in silence, again, but it isn’t awkward; rather, there’s a comfortable stillness between them, a quiet that’s only disrupted by the sounds of raindrops hitting the pavement in puddles. Jake wants to say something, but at the same time, he doesn’t want the moment to end.

“I thought Holt would be back by now,” Amy suddenly bursts out.

Jake turns to Amy, confused. “Huh?”

“I thought he would be back by now,” Amy says again. “I figured Wuntch would send him to PR for, like, a week, as punishment, and then bring him back.”

Jake shakes his head. “Ames, you know that’s not how it–”

“I know that’s not how it works, Jake,” Amy interjects, and Jake involuntarily takes a step back. That’s when he notices tears welling up in her eyes. “Sorry, I shouldn’t have snapped,” she says quickly.

“No, it’s okay, I get it,” Jake replies. “I’m–I don’t really know how to deal with it either.”

“I’m glad I came to your door that day,” Amy says softly. “Not just because of the Holt thing, but also because these past few weeks have been really, really great. I don’t know if I say it enough, but I hope that you know that.”

“Yeah, it really has been.” Jake pauses, then continues, an impish grin replacing his smile, “But don’t you think you’re giving yourself too much credit there? I mean, I was already halfway out the door when you showed up, and I would have been at your place first if Charles didn’t spend so much time deciding if I should wait until it started raining or not.”

Amy opens her mouth like she’s about to argue, then closes it, her brows furrowing. “Wait, why? What’s so special about the rain?”

Jake shrugs, saying, “It’s some stupid thing; he thinks giving rain kisses are the easiest way to make a woman fall for you, or something.”

They’ve reached a crosswalk, and Jake is about to push the button for the Walk Signal when Amy gently stops him by laying a hand on his arm. “I mean, I wouldn’t necessarily disagree with that statement there,” she says, her eyes twinkling.

“Yeah?” Jake asks playfully, turning so that he’s fully facing her. 

“Mhmm,” she replies. “No, I wouldn’t disagree with it at all.”

Amy tilts her head up and slowly presses her lips to his, her hands snaking up his shoulders and around his neck, and Jake immediately wraps his arms around her and pulls her close, deepening the kiss. The rain continues to pour around them, the rest of the world silent save for its patter, and Jake can’t help but think that Charles is correct. Being here with Amy is absolutely perfect, and he never wants it to end.

Suddenly, the wind picks up, and Amy’s hood falls off her head, causing her hair to start flying everywhere – including straight into Jake’s face. He pulls back hurriedly and makes exaggerated gagging sounds as Amy struggles to get her hair under control.

“Shut up!” she giggles, whacking his arm jokingly. “Nothing even went into your mouth!”

“Nothing even went into your mouth; title of your sex tape,” Jake responds, earning him another whack.

“Okay, okay, that was pretty bad. But back to the original thing, though,” he says as they cross the street. “I’m just saying. If Charles wasn’t there, I would have been the one saying ‘screw light and breezy’ or whatever on your doorstep.”

Amy rolls her eyes. “Nah, you wouldn’t have had the courage to even leave your apartment without him around,” she teases. 

“And you had absolutely no qualms whatsoever about coming over to my place with no warning just hours after you called things quits,” Jake deadpans, his eyebrows raised.

“I never said that,” Amy says. “I may have not had Charles as motivation, but I did have Rosa.”

“Oh, so you actually did have someone to talk about Holt being gone and stuff!” Jake says accusingly, faux-gasping. “I feel so betrayed!”

“Yeah, right,” Amy snorts. “We stayed at the precinct late to work on a case, and I invited her over, just to hang out right after. As soon as we walked in, though, she told me, ‘You and Jake not just friends and you fucking know it,’ and shoved me right out the door again.” 

“Yeah, that sounds about right for Rosa. Although, she probably had plans that night, and you inviting her over disrupted that.”

“Actually, I’m pretty sure she just chilled in my apartment after I left, because I found a  half-finished recording of The Parent Trap in my DVR the next day. And it took up all the remaining space, so the episode of SVU I had scheduled didn’t even record!”

“Ames, that sounds like it’s your own fault. I mean, who asked you not to go back home?”

“Well, I would have, if you didn’t immediately kick Charles out and then get all ‘stay with me here tonight’ and not let me leave,” Amy mocks. They both start laughing at this.

“Oh my god, we were so stupid,” Jake chortles. “Why did we ever think ‘light and breezy’ was going to work?”

“Especially since we broke a rule right on the first date,” Amy adds, giggling. “I’m so, so glad we got over that, though.”

There’s a note of sincerity in her voice, and something about it makes Jake suddenly want to kiss her again, so he does. He loves that he can just do that now, instead of simply daydreaming about it, and he loves that she responds with equal eagerness. There’s just something about being with Amy that makes him deliriously happy, and he never wants that feeling to go away.

This time, it’s Amy who breaks away first. “As much as I like this, it’s pretty late, and we’re at my building now,” she says, which Jake confirms with a quick glance over her shoulder. He’s disappointed; the walk seemed a lot shorter than he hoped it would be. “Are you sure you don’t want me to drive you home?” Amy asks.

“No, I’m okay. I think I’ll walk for a few more minutes or so, then catch a taxi,” Jake says. “There are still some puddles I want to jump in,” he adds.

“Anyone who enjoys getting their shoes and socks wet for no reason is positively insane,” Amy says, before pecking his lips softly. “Stay safe, and text me when you get home,” she murmurs. 

“Yeah, I will,” he says, squeezing her hand. She waits by the door as he walks to the corner, waving. He waves back until he sees her door closed behind her.

Jake has never felt as lucky as he feels right now. He doesn’t deserve to be with someone as awesome as Amy is; yet, for some inexplicable reason, she likes him and wants to be with him, too. Jake spends the rest of his walk and taxi-ride with only this thought on his mind, a happy feeling in his heart, and a warm glow spreading through his body.

#brooklyn nine nine #b99 fic #jake x amy #peraltiago fanfic #brooklyn nine nine fanfiction #p: screw light and breezy {jake & amy} #c: amy santiago #c: jake peralta #b99fandomevents #b99 summer 2019 fic exchange #a summer rain #myposts #myfics #my writing

[397bartonstreet]

When You’re Home

This is for @peraltasames for the @b99fandomevents fic exchange! I am very sorry this came a day late, I had the fic finished by the deadline but after a quick read through I realized it desperately needed another draft. I would’ve felt horrible if I gave you a fic I felt wasnt good enough even for my standards. I hope it’s worth the wait though! If not, I apologize immensely lol

Prompt 1: jake and amy’s first night back together after the ambulance scene in coral palms pt 3 + fluffy reunion goodness. (I hope this fic is what you asked for maybe not)

Getting Jake through his apartment door in his crutches shouldn’t have been as hard as it was, but through all the giggling and fooling around they were doing, there were more than a couple instances in which he almost fell flat on his face. And that only made things more difficult, his clumsiness making Amy laugh louder and their process all the more sloppy. It also didn’t help that Amy couldn’t let go of him, she wouldn’t let go of him. A hand on his back, his arm, his waist. A kiss to his cheek, or shoulder, or the corner of his mouth. Her touch made Jake’s focus fall flat and she couldn’t be bothered to watch where she was going. At one point, when she shut the door behind him, she accidentally kicked him in his bad leg which released a pained groan through his teeth. His leg was still pretty sore, but the giddiness of being with Amy distracted him enough of it, so that kick served a good reminder. She snorted out a sorry and took a step away from him to keep from further injuring him.

Now that he’s entered the apartment, he takes a moment to soak it all in. It looks exactly like it did when he left it. The only evidence that it’s been kept a bit is that the bed is made and the room doesn’t have the smell of dust he expected. And since he hasn’t fixed his bed since the first few weeks he started dating Amy, he imagines she probably has something to do with it. It feels a little like a dream, to be back to his home after spending so long in that muddy, sweaty, trash town. He’s filled with so much relief he could cry, instead he releases the almost overwhelming emotion through a laugh of disbelief. 

“Do you need help getting changed?” Amy asks, pulling him out of his reverie. She’s already heading toward his drawer where she knows he keeps his pajamas, she’s been especially acquainted with it these past few months. 

“Oh definitely, the painkillers they prescribed me with is messing with my head a little bit, my balance is kind of off and I can’t move it too much,” he says. Amy nods sympathetically and hands him a stack of his pajamas. She uses her newly free hand to anchor herself so she can reach up for a lingering kiss, for no other reason other than she really wants to.

“Let me know when you need help, because I know you can take off your own shirt,” she says.

“Oh, but it’s so much more fun when you do it,” he teases. She rolls her eyes and heads back to his drawer to pull out another shirt of his and a pair of his boxers. She does have her own clothes here, having left some astray from when she would stay over, and even more from when she would tidy up his apartment during the six months he was away. Though she forgoes her own shirts in favor for one of his own, the smell of him overwhelming her senses when she pulls it over her head too hard to resist. She’s pulling her pants off her ankles when Jake speaks again. 

“Alright, uh, I may need your help now,” She turns to see him looking down at his shoes in defeat and waving his good foot to gesture petulantly. It’s so ridiculous she can’t help giggling more exaggerated than necessary. They’ve both been doing that a lot since they were dismissed home. 

“Does it hurt?” She walks over after finishing dressing to get in his view. Jake stills when he sees what she’s chosen to wear for the night. The old NYPD T-shirt of his way too big on her and he’s not that surprised to see the flannel of her chosen shorts peeking out the hem. Not only does she look absolutely adorable, seeing her with his clothes on is a real turn on. A goofy grin forms on his face.

“You look cute,” he purses his lips to ward off a laugh

“Oh my god, stop.” But the laugh bursts from his chest anyway and he lifts his eyes back up to hers. “Answer me, does it hurt?”

“Not that much, but the stitches are really sore.” Amy hums and kneels down in front of him. Maybe Amy should have thought a bit more before doing that an action so easily sexualized, because when she looks up at him he’s looking down at her with a stupid smirk.

“Wow, this has got to be the hottest image I’ve ever seen,” he says with a breathlessness that makes heat well up from the tips of her ears down to her neck, as well as a mischievousness that makes her give him a smack on his good leg with the back of her hand. 

“Shut up, I’m trying to help you,” she says, gently prying his shoe off his sensitive foot, he flinches once but fortunately gets it off without much problem.

“And then after, it’s sexy sexy time?” he asks, rolling his torso and waggling his eyebrows at her. 

“You can barely clothe yourself and you wanna have sex?” She teases, pulling off the second shoe. Soon, Jake knows she’s up to no good when she reaches her fingers to graze the button of his shorts. It’s quickly unbuttoned and he gulps at the flirtatious quirk of the eyebrow she throws his way. She grabs a hold of the zipper and almost too slowly drags it down, her salacious eyes never leaving his to soak up his reaction. The muscles of his abdomen clench when her fingers mischievously, purposefully, glide on his cock as she does so. And she uses the same speed to pull down the shorts until it plops to the floor. 

“There are some other, um, non-strenuous stuff we can do,” he croaks. He originally meant it to be a joke, but now he’s not so sure if it is anymore after that display, and now that Amy’s lightly raking her nails on his thighs. And he hasn’t seen his girlfriend in so long, the slightest thing she does cause the blood from his brain to rush down to where she’s so close to him. During the time where he wasn’t sure when he would see her again, (something inside of him even wondering if he’d ever see her again) the thought of being with her, feeling her, loving her consumed his every thought. And right now, she’s actually here, flesh and blood, teasingly biting her lip at him with grazing hands just going away from where he wants her most. 

“Only if you’re good.” She breaks the spell abruptly when she stands back up, but still presses her lips to his through giggles when she sees the absolutely wrecked look on his face. Before Amy let’s it deepen too much she pulls away, Jake slightly chasing after her lips while she goes. 

“Ames, you can’t just tease me like that, I am a very weak man,” he whines and Amy’s accompanying chuckle is full of mischief and mirth. She stands up straight and sobers up soon after, and readjusts her ponytail while she speaks. 

“Are you tired? Because if you’re not I can bring you some hot chocolate,” she asks him. He is tired, now that the adrenaline of the day is passing he’s starting to feel just how tired he is. He wants to fight it though, wants to make up for so much lost time and hold her in his arms. He can’t do that if he’s nursing a cup of hot chocolate.

“No thanks babe, I’m just going to stay in bed, but I’m holding you to that offer tomorrow morning. All I could find over in Florida was really shitty packet hot chocolate. It was Swiss Miss city Ames!” Maybe they could even make the trip to her favorite Polish place and it’ll be like nothing’s been different the last six months.

Amy nods and helps him scoot back into the bed before crawling in with him. Jake had no other choice but to lay on his back, but Amy took advantage by straddling his waist. He immediately put his hands on her hips and willingly accepts her hundredth kiss today.

“I missed you,” she whispers, her heart feeling a bit constricted with just how much and with just how much joy she’s feeling at no longer having to.

“I missed you too.”

“And I love you… so much,” Amy says. He is hauntingly reminded of that day before he left, and those same words that were exchanged between them before his world fell apart. It sends an ache to his stomach, to where he still isn’t fully convinced that he’s back, and has her back. 

“I love you so much too,” he responds, and he’s sure that his cheeks will eventually pain him if he continues to smile the way he is. 

Both of them still have things to work through, tears still need to be shed and serious conversations still needs to be had eventually. Their six months apart was so hard on them, with truly no contact along with the small fear in the back of their heads that convinced them the other was in danger. They should maybe even call a therapist at this rate. But they weren’t going to deal with that right now, that was a tomorrow issue. Right now they’re living in the bliss of finally being back home and focusing solely on their neediness for each other.

Amy presses her forehead to his as he speaks. 

“Hey, if boxers are technically underwear, are you wearing anything underneath that,” Jake asks, a finger flicking at her waistband. She pulls back enough to look down at him and runs her hands through the stupid frosted tips she’s going to eventually need to address. 

“Why don’t you find out, detective.” 

#b99 #peraltiago #my fics #b99 fics #b99 summer 2019 fic exchange #b99 summer fic exchange #peraltasames

[sambergscott]

you showed me something i can’t live without

entry for the b99 summer 2019 fic exchange for @b99fandomevents. written for @dailyb99 (tumblr)/valeriee (ao3) who requested jake x amy angst after amy’s start over comment during casecation

He can’t even look at her. Once the bomb has been diffused and Pam is in handcuffs and Bruno Rojas has an increased security detail, Jake and Amy are free to go home. The car ride is awkward AF, tension thick in the air like a pea soup has descended on the city. She doesn’t rest her hand on his thigh as he drives, they don’t sing to Taylor Swift, they don’t stop at their favourite Thai take-out as they drive past. They don’t say a word until they’re inside their apartment and even then Jake mutters that he’s getting a shower under his breath, leaving her to it.

He undresses slowly, numbly, and stands still beneath the shower, the hot water burning his skin. His face is wet with tears, his mind cruelly replaying Amy’s words. Start over. Start over start over start over. With someone else. Who is not him.

He stands in the shower until the water runs cold, wrapping the monogrammed ‘Mr’ towel (a gift from  Terry and Sharon from their wedding registry) around his waist. Everything is a horrible reminder of them, their soon-to-be-over marriage, as he returns to their bedroom, to the framed wedding pictures on his bedside table, the ‘Mr’ mug of coffee waiting for him.

She’s already in bed, sipping the herbal tea in her ‘Mrs’ mug, her face pale and drawn in, dark bags beneath her eyes. He immediately - guiltily - looks away, grabbing his t-shirt and sweatpants, mumbling something about changing in the other room.

He ends up on the couch re-watching Die Hard. If his marriage is over, at least he still has his favourite movie franchise. Correction: now his marriage is over.

It’s a sharp, painful reminder, a nightmare end to what was supposed to be a romantic anniversary celebration. How far they have deviated from his plan. They were supposed to be tearing each other’s clothes off by now and instead they can’t even bare to be in the same room.

His phone buzzes with a text from Rosa, informing him of how worried Amy had been when he was stuck inside with an explosive device, how much Amy loved him and that obviously she didn’t want to start over with anyone else. You two are soulmates, you dumb-dumb.

He closes his eyes and shoves his phone down the side of the cushion. It doesn’t matter what Rosa thinks. Amy said what she said. If he doesn’t want kids, she’ll divorce him.

The terrifying thing is, he doesn’t want kids. Or he didn’t. He doesn’t know how to feel anymore, his arguments against having a baby all pooh-poohed by the debate squad, his thoughts muddled by the need to do anything necessary to keep Amy. She is the best thing that’s ever happened to him. He can’t lose her.

He hears shuffling footsteps make their way into the living room, his wife, wrapped in their comforter, appearing in view a few moments later. He can tell she’s been crying too and hates himself for putting her through that. But also hates her a little. Because she’s the one who uttered the words start over. This whole thing is her fault. Or Pam’s. He doesn’t even remember how this whole thing started anymore.

“Hey. Can we talk?”

“I think we’ve done enough talking for today, don’t you think?” He snaps, hating the way she visibly recoils.

“We can’t leave things like this.” She gestures between them. Things haven’t been so awkward since Florida. “My parents always said never go to bed angry.”

“Well my parents solved all their marital problems with divorce. So.”

He did it. He said the ‘d’ word. It's out there. Can’t take it back now.

“You want a divorce?” She whispers, her face crumpling.

He shrugs noncommittally. “You’re the one who mentioned starting over.”

“I said I didn’t want to. I love you, Jake. I planned to spend the rest of my life with you. But I’ve always wanted kids... and if we can’t do that together...” She breaks off, pointlessly scrubbing away her tears with the back of her hand. New ones fall anyway. “This hurts me too, you know.”

“Does it?” He asks emptily. “If it was such a dealbreaker, you should’ve made that clear before we got married. Hell, you should’ve made it clear years ago before I got so invested.”

“I didn’t think I needed to. I thought you loved kids!”

“I do. But that doesn’t mean I want my own. I love Nikolaj and Ava and Iggy, but I also love giving them back to their parents at the end of the day and being able to get on with my life.”

“And that’s your opinion set for life, is it? You’re never changing your mind?”

“I don’t know,” he says honestly.

“You don’t know?” Amy repeats. “Our marriage is about to fall apart and you don’t know. Thanks, Jake. That’s great.” She shakes her head, walking away.

“I don’t know anymore because I don’t want to lose you,” he spits out. It comes out angrier than it’s supposed to, but it does the trick. She turns around. “I didn’t want kids because I was scared. I had a crappy childhood and we work a lot and I’m terrified of being a bad father.”

Her expression is unreadable.

“I love you so much,” he continues. “This life we have here... it’s better than anything I imagined. Like I said earlier, I was as sure about asking you to marry me as I was about becoming a cop. But I was still scared of marriage. Scared of ending up like my parents, alone for so many years. It wasn’t until you were walking down the shredded paper aisle that I wasn’t anymore.”

“What are you saying?” She murmurs.

“I’m always going to be scared of ending up like my dad. Just because things are scary, doesn’t mean I shouldn’t do them.”

“Can I sit down?”

He nods silently, shifting so there’s room for her. She grabs his hand, lightly rubbing the pad of his thumb over his wedding band. He swallows the lump in his throat.

“I don’t want you to say these things just because you think it will save our marriage,” she says seriously. “I want you to want kids. We’re only going to end up in the same place a few years down the line if you commit to having children you don’t want. And that’s not fair on me, or you, or them.”

He thinks about it - really thinks about it. He thinks about the way his heart flips whenever Nikolaj says he loves him or when one of Amy’s nieces climbs into his lap and asks him to read a book or when Cagney and Lacey bring him cookies into work. They’re always oddly shaped and contain more chocolate chips than any other ingredient, but their little smiles light up whenever he pops one in his mouth and tells them it’s delicious. And as scared as he is, he loves the image of a mini-Amy he conjures in his mind.

“I do want to have kids,” he promises. “With you.”

Her lips twitch. “You’re sure? You’re not scared anymore?”

“I am so scared. Maybe even more now so than before,” he confesses. “But I was scared in there with Pam and I handled that. And me and you make a pretty good team, don’t we?”

“The best team,” she agrees, smiling for the first time in hours.

It’s so beautiful - she’s so beautiful - that Jake can’t help but smile back. “We can do anything.”

“We can.”

“So,” he hesitates, looking nervous again, “are we good?”

“We’re good,” she says, leaning in for a kiss. It’s soft and tender yet equal parts desperate. She giggles when she pulls away. “It’s you and I, by the way.”

All the heart ache disappears with a whoosh.

“We’ve just decided to have kids together and you’re seriously correcting my grammar?” He narrows his eyes playfully.

“Of course! I won’t have you impose poor grammatical habits onto our unborn child.”

“I love you,” he responds.

“Love you too, babe.” She combs her fingers through his damp, messy curls, biting her lip. “Want to practise baby-making in the other room?”

Jake grins. “Race you there.”

#my writing #b99 fic #jake x amy #b99 summer 2019 fic exchange #b99fandomevents #i believe i am the first to post #writer's block is finally over baby!!!!

[meepmorpperaltiago]

The Date Night

This is my b99 summer fic exchange fic for @amazingsantiago, from two of the prompts you requested, jealous Amy and Jake being Amy’s hype man - hope you like what I came up with! Also thank you so much to @amez-santiago for helping me with the idea and for reading through the fic - and thanks so much to @b99fandomevents for organising this. 

All in all, Jake had thought that their first night out since becoming parents had been relatively successful.

They’d just been out to Shaw’s, staying in the same booth for most of the evening, chatting, drinking and only dedicating 46% of their conversation to their daughter. Ok, maybe it was more like 55%, but Jake still thought that was pretty good.

Apparently, Amy hadn’t had as much fun. He should’ve guessed something was up when she slammed the door to their apartment as soon as they got back from his mom’s, scaring Livvy slightly and straight up startling their cat Luna, who’d clearly been sleeping nearly the entire time they’d been out. She hadn’t seemed upset when they’d left the bar, but he’d been able to sense a growing irritation on the journey home and had made a mental note to ask her about it later, not thinking that whatever it was would be that big of a deal.

 When he’d tried to gently ask what was bothering her, she’d simply shrugged him off and he’d reluctantly let it go. Until later in the evening, after putting Livvy to bed, when he’d come from the bathroom to notice the redness on his wife’s face.

 “What’s wrong babe?”, he now asks gently (and tentatively), slowly getting into bed. His heart plummets when she fully bursts into tears.

He immediately puts his arms around her and he hears her mutter something about her crying being “so so stupid”

“I bet it’s not stupid” he says, nudging her gently. She smiles at that, resting her head on his shoulder.  

“Is it me? Did I mess something up?”, he asks, mentally scanning back through the evening to think of anything he could’ve done to cause her current state.

“No, it’s nothing you did”, Amy says in a slightly sharp tone.

Then he realises exactly what’s wrong. They hadn’t been alone in their booth at Shaw’s, a drunken group of friends sliding in after about a quarter of an hour and pretty much staying for the rest of the night. And one of them, a girl with red hair and even redder lipstick, had pretty much been ignoring Jake’s wedding band all night. Something had changed in her expression when she’d seen him - it’d started off with just some giggles and a few looks and had ended up with her consistently and determinedly trying to get her hands all over him almost every minute or so. He’d just brushed her off, too busy focused on talking to Amy and not even considering that she could be jealous. He didn’t think that Amy had been bothered by the girl’s flirting, but clearly this was a rare occasion where he’d badly misread her emotions.

 “I’m sorry”, she mumbles through her tears now.

“Ames, you have nothing to be sorry for”, he reassures her, rubbing comforting circles along her back and arms before kissing the top of her head lightly.

“Was it the girl at Shaws?”, he asks. She sighs and untangles herself from his embrace a little. She looks at him, tucking her hair behind both ears and he smiles a little.

“Kind of, I guess?”, she answers.

“I don’t know… I’ve just been feeling insecure about how much everything has changed since Livvy, y’know? And the way that I look different now, all my baby weight and stretchmarks and all my hormones making me cranky…. and on our first night out together the way everything was, there’s this super pretty girl who just won’t take her hands off you and…”

She goes back into his arms, sobbing again.

“Oh, Ames”, he says softly. “First of all, you know you never ever have to worry about that kind of stuff, right?”

“That’s also why I feel stupid”, Amy mumbles into his shirt.

“Ames, you’re not stupid just for feeling jealous – remember how I was with Vin?”

She laughs a little at the memory and the sound warms his heart. After a pause, he continues.

“But also, the other stuff you said – the only reason I’m so good at being your hype man is ‘cause you’re so easy to hype up! You’re so amazing, Ames. And that hasn’t changed just because Livvy’s turned our lives upside down a little. Plus, you’re still super hot”

She giggles again, and his heart jumps at the sound.

“I love you”, she says softly.

“I love you too”, he says before kissing her softly.

As they turn the lights out and go to sleep, and with their daughter in the next room, Jake has never felt more at home.

#b99 summer 2019 fic exchange #b99 fandom events #amazingsantiago #b99 #peraltiago #brooklyn nine nine #brooklyn nine nine fanfic #jake peralta #jake x amy #amy santiago #my writing

[b99fandomevents]

Welcome to the first ever B99 Fandom Events Anonymous Fic Exchange! This hiatus is looking like it’s going to be a long one, so what better way to pass the time than a fandom-wide fic exchange?? :)

This challenge is open to everyone! Anyone is welcome to join - we’d especially like to encourage new writers who haven’t written much, if at all, to join in on the fun!

For anyone who has never participated in a fic exchange, the rules are easy: you provide 3-5 prompts or tropes you’d like someone to fill for you, and on June 10th you’ll receive 3-5 prompts another participant has requested. From there, you’ll have about a month to write a fic based on at least 1 of those prompts and post it to Tumblr (and AO3!) - it’s that easy! Check out the rules and FAQ’s below for more info - and don’t forget to sign up!

Sign ups are open until June 8th!

RULES:

You must include 3-5 prompts or tropes you would like your partner to write for you on the registration form.

Any prompt or trope involving a violation of basic human rights (i.e. rape, incest, etc.) will be deleted at the admins’ discretion. We recognize that fiction is often a place where people turn to process those types of events, but we’d like this exchange to remain fun and lighthearted. Please refrain from requesting/writing such prompts.

You must write at least 1 of the prompts sent to you, but if you are inspired to, you may combine and/or fulfill multiple.

Your Tumblr inbox must be open OR a valid email address must be provided so that we can contact you with your assignments

Fic must be minimum of 1k (exceptions can be made under special circumstances - contact the admins)

This is an anonymous fic exchange - don’t tell anyone who you’re writing for

Fics can be posted any time prior to July 28th, and must tag your person’s Tumblr URL and/or AO3 username as well as @b99fandomevents; additionally, in the tags of the post, include #b99 summer 2019 fic exchange and #b99fandomevents

We will create a collection on AO3 as soon as the first fic is completed and posted to AO3, so if you are able please cross post your fic from Tumblr to AO3

All asks sent to the b99fandomevents Tumblr will be answered publicly unless otherwise requested

You must sign up for the exchange through this registration form.

FAQs:

What happens if I am unable to finish my assignment by the due date?

Let us know as soon as possible so that we can find a replacement writer for your partner!

None of the prompts I received inspired me - can I request new ones?

Unfortunately, no. If you’re having trouble getting inspired, feel free to reach out to either of the admins - we’re here to help!

Can I request a smutty prompt?

Sure! With any smutty prompts, we’re going to ensure that no underage writers are partnered with adult writers.

I have a specific trope associated with one of my prompts I’d like my writer to avoid - how can I ensure that they will?

There is a section in the sign-up form wherein you can detail any tropes or other details you’d like your writer to avoid.

Can I request a prompt for a non-canon ship?

Absolutely! There’s a section on the registration form where you can select canon ships you’re willing to write for, and another where you may list any non-canon ships you’re willing to write for. We’ll assign prompts accordingly!

Am I allowed to talk to other people about my progress while writing my fic?

Sure! We know talking to others can help with the inspirational process. Just keep in mind that this is an anonymous gift exchange - try to refrain from naming the participant you’re writing for!

Does the fic I write have to be ship-specific?

If your partner has specifically requested it, then yes, we’d encourage you to make your fic ship-specific. However the wonderful thing about prompts is that they’re open to individual interpretation - adhere to the requested tropes and details, but otherwise feel free to make it your own!

What if the prompts/tropes I received make me uncomfortable?

Let one of the admins know!

I need help finding a beta reader! What should I do?

No worries! Contact one of the admins and let us know and we’ll happily get you partnered with someone who answered “yes” to being willing to be a beta reader for other writers!

I don’t have an AO3 account - can I still participate?

Of course! We’ll add any fic posted for this exchange to an AO3 collection, but it isn’t required to participate. Just be sure to follow the rules about posting to Tumblr so that we can find it and reblog it to the fandom events blog!

I can’t pick just one prompt I was sent - can I write more than one?

Only if you want to make your partner the happiest person on the planet! No one is obligated to write more than one prompt, but if you want to combine the prompts you were given or even write multiple fics based off of the prompts you receive, you are absolutely more than welcome to do so! Just be sure to follow the posting guidelines detailed in the rules!

SIGN UP HERE!

#b99 #b99 fic #b99fandomevents #b99 summer 2019 fic exchange #anonymous fic exchange #brooklyn nine nine #brooklyn 99

[disruptedvice]

Dancing around each other

Soulmate AU for @amydancepants-peralta for the @b99fandomevents summer 2019 fic exchange

Summary:

“Ah! Amy! Help!” Jake shrieked the moment she answered her phone, not really concerned about volume control since he was kinda trying to not die at the moment. It had gotten through four rings before she finally picked up, and this would've been it for Jake if it'd gone straight to voicemail.

Amy frowned, looking around as if he could see her, but soon brushed it off as her being paranoid. “Jake? What's wrong?”

“I've got the goose!” He shouted, jumping to dodge another swipe that could only be described as intelligent and intent. “The goose is here! The goose is here!”

Soulmate AU where one person finds a goose who leads them to the other person. The difficulty comes in not being mauled by a goose.

AO3 Link

________

Dancing Around Each Other ________

“Ah! Amy! Help!” Jake shrieked the moment she answered her phone, not really concerned about volume control since he was kinda trying to not die at the moment. It had gotten through four rings before she finally picked up, and this would've been it for Jake if it'd gone straight to voicemail.

Amy frowned, looking around as if he could see her, but soon brushed it off as her being paranoid. “Jake? What's wrong?”

If it was anyone else calling her, she would have already been freaking out by someone yelling help on the other end of the line, but this was Jake, so she was merely concerned, knowing this call had a 60% chance of being ridiculous. The man counted running out of gummy bears an emergency. Forgive her for being a bit skeptical of this phone call. Besides, the timing was too suspicious. Of all the times to call her out of the blue, he picked right now?

“I've got the goose!” Jake shouted, jumping to dodge another swipe that could only be described as intelligent and intent. “The goose is here! The goose is here!”

He had been trying to get away from it when he stood on top of the dining room chair that had more or less been pushed into the corner of the room, and boy, that was a big mistake. He was panicking, okay? He thought that standing on top of it would keep him safe and out of range. Now he was trapped, and currently being held hostage by a hostile entity that happened to be a goose.

It took Amy a few seconds to process what he was telling her, because really? Today of all days? She thought his random call was suspicious timing. Turns out she was in the clear, because today was the day Jake Peralta got his goose.

Normally she would step outside to take a phone call, but this place was practically deserted, so she didn't feel too bad about talking on the phone in the section she had found herself in. She was using her inside voice- and it's not like she was in a library or anything. Still, she set down the box she was carrying on one of the cheapy gray-ish blue vinyl benches and sat beside it, trying to make herself as unobtrusive as possible as she took this very important phone call.

“You're not supposed to let it corral you,” Amy said unhelpfully from the other side of the phone, like Jake didn't know that, like anyone didn't know that. It was a different story when you were the one being attacked in your own home first thing in the morning. Everyone knew you weren't supposed to let it corral you, but that was easier said than done.

It was a rampant goose that was supposed to get you to your soulmate, but geese are crazy and don't give a shit, so you were more than likely going to end up at your soulmate's feet bloody and maimed with a hissing beast flapping behind you.

You're pretty much screwed if your goose gets you cornered. Geese aren't logical. They don't care if snapping at you when you're trapped means it'll take longer for you to get to the person you're meant for. You're expecting reason from a beast. A violent, vicious beast.

“That's easy for you to say when you're not being hunted by a goose,” Jake pointed out, jumping on the unfortunately wobbly chair, trying to dodge another menacing- peck? Peck seemed too light a word for what it was doing.

Anyways, it didn't work. His shins were prime real estate, and he yelped when the bird hit him with deadly accuracy.

“You know you're not allowed to go to the precinct today,” his partner reminded him, again rather unhelpfully.

Amy seemed way too calm for his liking when he was fighting for his life right now. The least she could do was come over and shoot it before he was mauled to death.

Did guns even work on soulmate geese? He didn't know. He was too afraid to find out- he didn't wanna know what a goose with a vengeance looked like if he missed.

Amy was, of course, talking about the precinct's no goose policy. If a member of the NYPD happened to be unfortunate enough to have their soulmate goose show up one morning, they were absolutely prohibited from showing up to work that day. Because geese weren't picky.

Sure, they'd follow their victim and get them to their soulmate eventually, but they would absolutely peck the shit out of anyone within a goose-rage radius, which was very problematic in enclosed work spaces like a police precinct.

That left Jake alone fending off the foul water fowl.

He didn't know how much longer he could last. He had to get out of his apartment. Backed into a corner on a dumb chair with a goose trying to get at him and succeeding (oh god was it succeeding) was not going to end well for him.

He shouldn't have let it corral him.

Geese were way taller than he had any idea of. Who the hell needed a neck that long?

“Hey, maybe if you race over here and blare the sirens, it'll be distracting enough for me to slip by this goose without losing any fingers,” or toes, he noted, not sure whether or not he should be thankful that the goose had it out for his legs like they had personally wronged it. “Please come help me,” he begged, jolting again at another peck and bite combo. He was desperate here. “You don't have to fend it off, even though I would do that for you cause you're my partner. You don't have to risk death by goose for little ol me. I just need a distraction.”

Amy grimaced. “Sorry, Jake. Today's my day off- I'm in Manhattan with my brother,” the excuse just slipped off her tongue with an ease that maybe should have been a bit concerning, but no one had to know but her. “Just try and rush it and get out the door.”

“But I'll get bit!”

“You're getting bit now, aren't you?” It was a rhetorical question. From his pained yelps, she estimated the goose had landed at least six direct blow since their conversation started.

“I can't go out now. I'll get arrested for public indecency! This goose didn't wait for me to get dressed this morning.” Jake covered the phone with his hand as he leaned down, hissing directly at the goose, “No manners-!”

It snapped at him, and he realized that leaning down to scold a demon goose wasn't the smartest idea if he wanted to keep his movie star good looks. He wanted his nose to stay attached to his face, thank you very much.

Man, he really wished he wore more than boxers to sleep last night. But it was summer, and hot, so excuse him for sleeping comfortably in the privacy of his own goddamn home.

Even a pair of pajama pants meant his legs probably wouldn't have been bleeding at the moment.

Instead, he woke up to this.

Amy shrugged, but it took seeing the action reflected at her in one of the small titled mirrors on the ground for her to realize he couldn't see the gesture. “I don't know what to tell you. It's not gonna end until you get moving. Oh, and maybe don't get in a car,” she added, now that she thought of it. “I've heard it can be especially bad being stuck in one with a goose. But hey, look on the bright side-”

“The bright side is staring me down with teeth and monster tongues,” Jake said dryly.

She rolled her eyes and barreled right on. “Yeah, but you're going to meet your soulmate today.”

Jake blinked. He'd almost forgotten about that aspect. It was kinda hard to think about anything else when you were being attacked by a creature more dinosaur than bird.

“Sorry, I don't think there's anything I can do from here,” Amy told him, already out of helpful tips. She still hadn't encountered her soulmate goose yet. She was trying to be happy for him, though. “You're gonna have to figure this out on your own, Pineapples.”

Jake had a feeling she was going to say that.

“Okay, just- don't hang up. I'm fucking terrified.” _____

Jake slammed his bedroom door shut, pushing his whole body weight up against it, heart racing a mile a minute. He didn't think the goose was strong enough to knock down the door, but he locked his legs in place, his back pressed against the door like he was the only thing keeping it shut. His heart was racing a mile a minute as he panted into the phone, fingers curled around it in an iced grip.

“Made it to my bedroom, still have all my toes.”

There was a scratching of claws at the door that would've been eerie if it wasn't so frantic and determined. It felt like he was starring in his own psychological horror movie thriller and he did not appreciate that. Not at all.

“What if I just locked the door and stayed in here all day?” He asked, an edge of hysteria creeping into his voice. “Then I'll be safe,” he reasoned. “It can't get in here. It can't get me.”

“Jake, it's a supernatural goose. It got into your locked apartment with no trouble. I don't think one more door is going to stop it.”

Jake groaned. At least locking the door meant he might have enough time to get dressed without dodging beaks and feet. Weaponized feet. If he was lucky. _____

There was a hum of commotion outside the store, but Amy paid it no mind. It hadn't even been half an hour since their phone call ended, but of course it was still on her mind.

Sure, she felt a little bad for lying to Jake, but she'd already been here for two hours, and was only slightly closer to making a decision. She had it narrowed down to three options- the same three she'd been staring at for the past 15 minutes. This was going to be perfect- she wouldn't settle for anything less. No way was she ruining her surprise by rushing the choice, not even to hurry out of there to help her partner out of a jam.

While she didn't want to admit it to herself, there was a very small part of her that felt sick at the prospect of having to help Jake track down his soulmate.

What had started out a pleasant day shopping (really, she was just excited about her great idea) was instantly ruined by his phone call. Now there was a lead weight sinking in her stomach, because apparently today was the day.

Amy knew it was selfish. She felt bad enough for it already- Jake was her partner, but she couldn't make herself move from the spot when she knew what it would mean.

She couldn't help him when his goose would lead to someone who wasn't her.

She felt awful about it, but that didn't change the fact that she was standing in this Brooklyn store and staring at what she had picked out, just a short drive away from his apartment.

He'd find his soulmate with or without her help. That was how the whole soulmate goose thing worked.

Besides- she was only here right now because of Jake. That's the only reason she was even in this ridiculous store. She rationalized that it was okay for her to do this for Jake right now instead of helping him with his goose, and it was all good.

She still felt terrible about it. And wasn't any closer to making a decision. _____

The cashier was just about to swipe her card when the door to the store opened with a clamor (and the faint tingling of the bell from above).

Amy was more than a little surprised when she turned to see a disheveled Jake Peralta stumbling over a display case of shoes, panting and- oh my god, was he bleeding?

His arms were covered in red and pink marks, and she wasn't sure if it was a scrape or a small gash on his forehead, but it looked pretty bad all the same.

Jake haphazardly tried to put some distance between him and the goose that chased him in here, looking over his shoulder and thanking his lucky stars that the glass door seemed to be holding it back for the moment.

He leaned over, hands on his knees, trying to catch his breath. He pulled his hands back when the pain signals from his brain reminded him his knees were still covered in very painful bites.

Amy still couldn't believe her eyes. “Jake? Are you okay?”

He looked up, just as surprised to see her as she was him. “Amy? What are you doing here? This isn't Manhatt-” Jake gasped. “You lied! On the phone! You lied to me!”

He surveyed their surroundings, trying to figure out where they were. He hadn't been paying attention where he was being chased with a demon bird on his heels, but once he took around, he instantly recognized it. He loved this place.

He turned back to Amy, more confused than ever. “And what the hell are you doing in a sneaker store?”

It was an honest question, but she seemed to take it as an accusation.

“What are you doing here?” She asked, sounding upset, angry even now that she had snapped out of the gawking she was doing. Like she had anything to be mad about. He was the one who had been lied to- nay, betrayed by the person he was supposed to trust most in this world- and Amy just left him to the jaws of the beast. Hung him out to dry.

“I have a goose snapping at my heels!” He pointed toward the door, not noticing that the goose was now gone.

Somehow, that wasn't his main concern anymore. He was much more hung up on the fact that he called her begging for help, and she gave him some made up excuse so she could continue shopping at a store not even five minutes away from his apartment (the goose had chased him around the block a few times- it took awhile to get here).

They'd been partners for what- eight years? She could've just said she was busy, but nope, she straight up lied to him when he was in a life or death situation that animal control couldn't help him out of.

And to be in this store- it was a low blow. How many times had she called his passion (obsession was how she usually phrased it) frivolous and immature?

Mostly, it was the lying that bothered him. He was maybe a little worked up from all the running and almost dying he did (if you'd ever been chased by a goose, you would understand why he was convinced his obituary would read water fowl related death, which was so not how the Jake Peralta was supposed to go out).

He was in a lot of pain too, though his jeans meant that an employee wouldn't be mopping up blood from the many wounds he'd aggregated as he made his way to where Amy was standing at the counter. At least he wasn't dripping all over the floor.

He was bleeding, with adrenaline pumping through his veins, and his partner had lied to ditch him for a sneaker store, so yes, he felt fully within his right about the chewing out Amy was about to receive.

It was even worse when he got closer. Her eyes widened, filled with concern as she took in his bedraggled appearance. Jake looked like he'd been through a ringer. It wasn't just his normal disheveledness- he was still panting from the run, face flushed, clothing all askew (his shirt even ripped in some places), and his jeans had a few too many of what appeared to be suspiciously fresh blood stains.

Plus, he looked mad. Jake almost never got mad. That enough was cause for concern.

“You lied to me! For a pair of sneakers!” He looked down at the box she was purchasing- a large pair of red, definitely male sneakers. “Those are so not your size.”

Amy winced, realizing only too late that she should've covered up her purchase when he started getting closer. She groaned in aggravation- now he knew, and this was all for nothing. “Ugh! Your damn goose ruined my surprise!”

“What surprise?” Jake tried to hold onto his righteous indignation, but he couldn't help the way he perked up at the mention of a surprise. He narrowed his eyes at her, curious but suspicious that maybe she was just trying to distract him from his very deserved anger.

Amy slumped over in defeat, figuring she might as well tell him since it was already ruined.

“You're always going on and on about your damn sneakers,” she grumbled, crossing her arms (and making a face that Jake would classify as unfairly cute). “I thought it would be a good birthday present. Of course I lied- I couldn't tell you I've spent way too long trying to decide if you'd like the red sneakers with the stripey thing better, or the orange ones with the yellow curly bits. And that was only after I ruled out the neon pair with the rainbow shoe laces because there's just way too many choices here,” she motioned vaguely towards the wall that was covered with what had to be hundreds of display shoes of various colors, styles, brands, and whatever the hell else was supposed to make one shoe different and distinct from the next. She now understood how Jake could spend hours in this store. “I should've just gotten you a gift card. I was planning on doing that too, in case you hated there, but I wanted to get you an actual present too, you know? I couldn't tell you I've been here all morning staring at shoes that look exactly the same and trying to decide which one you'd like better for a birthday present.” Amy looked like she was about to give up just from recounting her struggle in this god forsaken land of sneakers. “And they do, Jake,” she pressed, eyebrows pulling together in distress. “They all look the same. They all look like sneakers.”

Jake waited for her to laugh, or say she was joking. But she didn't. Santiago was overwhelmingly earnest and almost distraught, like this sneaker store had broken her.

“Amy, my birthday's in three months,” he deadpanned.

She just shrugged in response. “I like to get things done early.”

The realization hit them at the same moment- the significance that they'd both glossed over because of confusion, defeat, and feelings. The dawning comprehension on his face was mirrored on hers. Of what this meant.

“Your goose... led you here.”

“Yeah,” Jake agreed slowly, his speech just as stilted as hers. “It did.”

Amy looked around nervously, trying to clock all the people in the store. There was a young couple milling about a few aisles down, a couple stragglers here and there, at least one worker stocking the shelves, and of course, the cashier ringing her up. It truly was a mark of living in New York that- after his initial disruption of clambering into the store and making a mess- no one was even paying attention to them anymore. Except the cashier, since Amy was still technically in the middle of her purchase. All in all, there was seven people in the store, then her and Jake.

A gloom fell over his face at her reaction, misinterpreting it as Amy checking for other people that could be the soulmate his goose was herding him to, because she wasn't pleased with the conclusion that it was possibly leading him to her.

When duh, it was the exact opposite. She wanted to rule out any other option, because this had to be a sure thing before she let herself get excited about it, or really feel the overwhelming relief that was already threatening to bubble up.

“I'm never gonna get my goose!” Amy whooped with an excited cheer. Sure, maybe now wasn't the time to celebrate that since Jake was standing right in front of her after being attacked by a goose, but really, when was the appropriate time to celebrate one would never be attacked by a goose? Cause now felt right.

“Uh, what?”

“This means I'll never have to deal with a soulmate goose!” She grinned at him, because this was very good news (for her, at least). “Cause I already found you. I'll already be with my soulmate, so a goose won't need to show up to chase me to you! I'll never have to be attacked by a soulmate goose! Cause it got you first!” Amy laughed, utterly gleeful, and Jake was conflicted to say the least. Because Amy was laughing and looking so happy, which he loved, but she was also rejoicing in the fact that he got viciously mauled by a goose and celebrating that she'd never have to go through it because it happened to him, and he kinda wanted to be mad at her teasing and laughing at him like this, but his heart was confused, because he thought she was upset, but now she's smiling?

Just then, Jake felt the beak of death clamp around his leg with a vicious honk, and yes, Jake shrieked, and no, he was not proud of that.

The goose let out another terrifying honk before it made a mad dash forward, becoming a blur of feathers barreling towards Amy's legs.

She didn't have time to react before it darted over her feet, biting her knee, hard, almost as if to mark her beyond a shadow of a doubt that yes, the goose was definitely leading him to the human called Amy Santiago.

“Shit,” she cursed, her hand automatically going to her freshly bitten knee. She'd heard stories, but god did that hurt.

“You totally deserved that,” Jake said.

Amy looked at him aghast, about to shoot something back at him, but there was another predatory honk from behind her that made her jump.

She didn't waste any time hurrying over to Jake, convinced the safest place for her legs to be was right in front of his. She took his hands in hers for good measure (not like she really needed a motivation to hold hands with Jake- she was always looking for an excuse).

“So, you're okay with this?” He asked cautiously, sounding uncharacteristically vulnerable. Still, he interlaced his fingers with hers, almost without noticing himself. Amy did, her heartbeat speeding up at the simple action of entwining their fingers together, like it was meant to be.

“Yeah,” she nodded. “I didn't think it was gonna be me.” His face fell at that. Her eyes widened when she realized how he took it, and she rushed to clear up the misconception. “No! Like it upset me! Your call ruined my morning, because I thought you'd find your soulmate today and it wouldn't be me. I'm glad it was me. I wanted it to be me. I wanted it to be you,” she said, fervently, cupping his cheek, because she needed him to understand.

Jake smiled. “I wanted it to be you too.”

They didn't need the prompting of a rabid goose to finally get to kissing, but it certainly helped speed things up a bit.

For a kiss that was partially motivated by fear, it was a damn good one. All of the pain from being hunted by a goddamn bird was worth it the moment Amy pressed her lips to his. He could barely even feel all his wounds when Amy wrapped her arms around his neck, closing the minuscule distance between them, her body flush against his.

Amy could still feel the pain from her one knee bite, with a new sympathy and guilt for being so flippant with her celebration of never having to go through the goose mauling he just went through because holy shit did it hurt. But getting to kiss Jake was a good consolation prize, as far as she was concerned.

They were both grinning at each other like absolute idiots when they finally parted. If they weren't in public, she might have been tempted to go back for more, something a little more intense this time. By the way his eyes kept darting down to her lips and back to her eyes again, he was feeling the same.

“The sneakers are awesome, Amy,” he told her with a soft smile, lighting up at the way she absolutely glowed at the praise. “You have good taste.”

As if she couldn't smile any wider. She found she was okay with her birthday surprise being ruined- just this once.

“Yeah,” she murmured, fingers trailing at the back of his neck. “I think so too.”

#peraltiago #b99 summer 2019 fic exchange #b99fandomevents #b99 fic #Jake/Amy #Jake Peralta #Amy Santiago #soulmate AU #goose of enforcement #fanfic #my b99 fics #my fic

[amesantiagos]

I’ve got a really bad feeling I’m gonna love you so good

Hey guys, so I finally managed to finish my submission for the @b99fandomevents summer 2019 fic exchange! This is extra terrifying for me because I’ve never shared anything I’ve written with anyone, and this was done in a bit of a rush as I’ve been unexpectedly super busy recently! 

This was written for @romanovember whose prompts were ‘peraltiago, pining, fluff and pre-series timeline’. I hope you enjoy it, and I’m sorry it’s like last, last minute! 

Read on AO3 here

────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──────

It was a typical Friday night at Shaw’s bar; the music was loud, the atmosphere was bustling, and the Ninety-Ninth precinct were drinking away their worries from the previous week.

The bartender was serving Jake as he stood at the bar, half listening to Charles blabbering away about some recipe he had found online the night before – after the words ‘fresh blood’ and ‘soup’ were mentioned in the same sentence Jake had decided it was best to just nod and smile. His absent gaze drifted across the room as he tried to ignore the gory details Charles was excitedly explaining to him.

As usual for a Friday night, Captain McGinley, Hitchcock and Scully were struggling to stay awake at their table and, like normal, Terry was on the phone to Sharon who was on her way to join them. Gina and Rosa were on another table drinking in silence, which was to be expected – but what wasn’t expected was the currently empty seat next to Rosa. Jake head towards the others, leaving an exasperated Charles at the bar.  

“Hey, where’s Santiago?”

Rosa looks up and tilts her head to somewhere behind him and he spins around. Sure enough, Amy was currently sitting alone at a booth in the darkest corner of the bar, nursing a drink and bobbing very slightly along to the music playing in the background. Which is definitely not where she normally was on a typical Friday night at Shaw’s.

Amy was the newest member of the Nine-Nine, and although she had been a little more hesitant about joining them at the bar to begin with, she’d now become a frequent patron, much like the rest of the squad.

“You should go talk to her.” Charles whispers in his ear, much too close for comfort.

“Charles!” Jake jumps back and scoffs as Charles over-exaggerates a wink and eyebrow wiggle. “Ugh, get out of here.”

Jake brushes him off and makes his way to the other side of the room. The general background chatter and laughter that is floating through the air begins to quieten as he reaches the dingy corner booth Amy is occupying.

“What do you want, Peralta?” she mumbles, her eyes never leaving the glass in front of her.

He wasn’t expecting such a cold reception, and pauses to takes her in. She’s deflated in her seat, shoulders slumped, and she her blank gaze appears to be focused straight through rather than on her glass. For someone so normally put together, Jake finds it a more than a little alarming to see her looking so down, especially considering the other empty glasses discarded on the table. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” she replies slightly too bluntly. “Why?”

“Well, after a few drinks you’re normally a little bit more…” he trails off as her eyes snap towards him.

“A little more what, Peralta?”

“Uh… lively?”

“I’m lively,” she huffs and starts to unenthusiastically wiggle along to the faint beat of the song playing from the speakers a few tables up from them. She turns her head and stops as soon as she makes eye contact with an unamused Jake.

“Oh yeah, well I’m totally convinced now.” Jake gently slides into the seat next to her, the smell of faint cigarette smoke and stale beer that must have soaked into the seats reminding him why this area of the bar was empty in the first place. “I mean, that was some quality dancing, I don’t even know why I thought anything was up in the first place.”

She responds with a sigh. Not an eye roll, no frown, just a small sigh, which only causes Jake’s concern to grow. “Amy—"

“Seriously, what do you want?”

“Really, I just wanted to check if you’re okay.”

“Why wouldn’t I be?” She frowns at him, her eyes dark in the dimly lit booth, “and why do you even care?”

“Well, first off, that’s rude,” he raises he eyebrows at her, “and secondly, because you’re my partner, and I know I normally come across as a badass, emotionless action-hero like type– ”

“No, you don’t.”

He ignores her, but can see a familiar glint in her eye starting to surface, “…but I do actually have a heart, so it hurts that you think I wouldn’t care about how my partner is feeling.”

“I’m fine. Now can you please just let me sit here and drink in peace?”

His heart sinks. That was not the response he was expecting, and he really was worried about her. “Is this about that suspect who escaped earlier?”

She sighs and looks away from him. “Look, this is the first case I’ve worked with Diaz, and I just wanted it to go well,” Amy sighs, and runs her hand down her face. “We’d been on him for weeks, we had him cornered and… and it’s my fault he got away. It’s my fault, Jake.” Her head sinks between her arms on the table. “I messed up. I know that it happens sometimes, but I thought I was better than that.”

“Amy–” Jake tries to stop her from spiralling.

“And if that’s not bad enough, Diaz doesn’t even know what happened and she’s so intimidating, I don’t even know how to tell her,” she mumbles. “How can I catch dangerous criminals for a living when I’m too scared to even talk to my own co-worker?”

“Hey, Rosa’s not that scary. Did you know that she…” he stops, and furrows his brows. “Huh, I actually don’t really know anything about her. Did you know that she lives somewhere in New York?”

Amy lifts her head and stares blankly back at him.

“I mean, I think she does,” he shrugs, beginning to doubt himself.

“That doesn’t help.”

“Yeah, sorry. But don’t worry about it too much, I accidentally let criminals escape all the time.” He takes a swig of his drink and grins at her.

“Jake, that’s not a good thing!”

“Yeah, but I’m still the best detective at the Nine-Nine.”

“That’s not true.”

“Look, all I’m saying is that you don’t have to be a perfect detective to be a great at your job.”

“Well, maybe that works for you you, but if I want to be a Captain one day…”

Jake rubs his temples and curses under his breath; if being light hearted wasn’t working, he was going to have to get serious.

“Amy, hey, look at me. You have met our Captain, right? The man who slept through literally everything that happened today? The man who didn’t even blink an eye that time those two sumo wrestlers got into a fight in the middle of the bullpen? And the rest of us aren’t much better, remember the time Hitchcock got beaten up by that prostitute? And the time Charles accidently had sex with a murderer?”

“Ugh, how could anyone forget that?” Her nose scrunches up in disgust, and Jake can’t stop his mind from pointing out how adorable it was. He doesn’t quite know what possesses him to do it, but he gently places his hand over hers. She shifts slightly closer to him, and presses against his side. She’s more relaxed now, so Jake continues.

“And not to inflate your ego or anything, but you’re definitely the smartest and most level-headed person in the squad, and you’re already a great detective, even if there are things you would do differently if you did things again. I guess it just helps prepare you for the future, or whatever. None of us are perfect, Santiago, there’s still hope for you yet.”

She looks up at him like she’s seeing him for the first time, despite having worked together for almost a year now and lets out a breath. “That was… weirdly inspiring.”

“What can I say, it’s kind of a hidden talent of mine.”

And she smiled at him. For the first time. Well, not really; she’d definitely smiled at him before. But not like this. This was a real smile, a genuine smile, not a ‘Peralta quit your bullshit’ smile, or a ‘I’m just trying to be polite’ smile, or even her stiff professional smile.  A smile that sparked in her eyes and made her whole face light up, and somewhere deep, deep down it ignited something inside him as well.

They both pause, lingering in the moment for just a little longer than necessary, before Amy blinks and removes her hand from under his, leaving Jake surprisingly disappointed by the absence of contact. She clears her throat before breaking the silence that’s now beginning to drown them.

“Well, thank you, it, uh, that’s actually really helped.”

“That’s what I’m here for, to offer great advice and look good doing it,” he flourishes his point with a wink and a grin.

Amy rolls her eyes, and Jake’s never been more relieved to see someone openly disapprove of him.

“Ah, there she is!”

“Shut up,” she says, but her eyes are still smiling.

Before they can get to caught up in the moment again, they’re interrupted by thudding footsteps approaching them, followed by Charles sliding into the booth with such force that Jake guesses he probably ran from the other side of Shaw’s.

“Hey guys, what’s going on?” He greets them in a voice a few octaves higher than usual.

“You okay there, buddy?” Jake grimaces internally, knowing that Charles is about to get super weird, super quick, but before he can come up with a plan to avoid any potential awkwardness Amy’s phone starts to loudly buzz.

“Sorry, I should get this,�� she says, quickly excusing herself and leaving Jake and Charles alone at the table.  

“So… Anything you need to tell me about?” Charles’ voice still hasn’t quite regained its normal pitch.

“Boyle. We were just talking. Amy was upset and I cheered her up, end of story. Now please stop being weird?”

“Uh-huh,” Charles stares at him for an uncomfortable few seconds before continuing, “You can’t ignore fate, Jake. I know It’ll happen one day, and I’m never wrong. Remember how I predicted Terry and Sharon? I almost feel like I’m Cupid!”

“You didn’t even meet Sharon until she and Terry had already been together for months.”

“Yeah, but when he told he us he was going on a date I said it was going to go well, and look at them now,” he’s almost bouncing with enthusiasm as he gestures towards the bottom of stairs where Terry is greeting his girlfriend.

“Okay, you’re maybe like Cupid’s distant, distant, distant cousin, because you’re way off base about everything else right now.”

“Mm-hmm, whatever you say, Jake.”  

Jake finishes his drink and tries to push Charles’ comments to one side, figuring that maybe if he just ignores him, he’ll give it up. Besides, Jake thought, she may be undeniably beautiful, but Amy was basically the opposite of him in every way imaginable, and despite Charles’ odd prodding, nothing was going to change that. But for some reason he can’t comprehend, he can’t quell the nagging thought in the back of his head that maybe, maybe, there was something to what Charles was saying after all, even if he wasn’t quite to admit it to himself yet.

#b99 summer 2019 fic exchange #b99fandomevents #b99 #jake x amy #so in typical form I've been super busy and this isn't exactly the best thing I've written #so it's kinda scary putting it out here #hahahahah #anyway

[stolethekey]

it’s your love i’m lost in

read on ao3

for @ofbuttsandbombs (and @b99fandomevents)

a combination of the prompts “kevin and raymond renew their vows” and “an MCU post-snap au”

-

The precinct is quieter these days. 

It still takes Amy by surprise, sometimes; there are mornings on which she strolls through the elevator doors half-expecting the lively hubbub of a precinct two-and-a-half years gone, mornings where the sight of a half-empty bullpen sends a familiar wave of pain crashing through her chest.

She thinks her subconscious is manufacturing hope. Rosa says it’s a coping mechanism of some sorts, because dealing with the unending despair day-in and day-out would render them completely useless. It makes sense, in a way – it feels scientifically impossible for her to get out of bed some days, and yet she’s been on time every single day since the NYPD had mandated its employees to return to work.

Captain Holt had tried his best to extend her time off, but he could only do so much, and she’d wanted to work, anyway. Being at home is no better than being at the precinct; his presence is still everywhere, and at least at work she can distract herself with the missing people who actually have a chance of being found.

And if she refuses to even look at the eternally empty desk across from her – well, who could blame her?

She doesn’t need to look at the surface of it, now coated with two-and-a-half years’ worth of dust and grime, to feel as if it will crush her, to know that it is a terrible reminder of the void that exists in her bedroom, in her car, in her life. It’s the same emptiness that has overtaken her fridge, save for the one expired bottle of orange soda that she refuses to throw out. It exists everywhere, now; it hovers around the desk Rosa glances at every so often, the one still sporting the Det. Charles Boyle nameplate. It’s palpable every time Terry starts to speak and then hesitates briefly before continuing, as if he is waiting for a certain assistant to interrupt him in a scathingly sarcastic voice. 

Even Hitchcock and Scully are quieter now.

It’s a small solace that both of them are still here, Amy supposes – so many duos were ripped apart by the snap, and the fact that the most consistent partnership in the Nine-Nine was spared is strangely comforting.

In any case, the precinct has been quiet for two and a half years, and it’s going to be quiet for however many years Amy has left at it.

Every day looks the same, now, and for the foreseeable future, every day is going to look the same.

Ordinarily, the sheer unendingness of it all would be enough to send her into a depressive spiral that would leave her bedridden for days, but the practical side of her knows that if that starts it will never end. Sometimes, giving into that slippery slope sounds more than inviting, but her therapist says it’s important to at least try.

So she tries, and she manages to find comfort in the little hints of normalcy that surface sometimes. She laughs when Hitchcock accidentally feeds Scully a tube of toothpaste. She helps Rosa get her knife out of the wall after a particularly rough interrogation. She rolls her eyes when the scent of Terry’s mango yogurt reaches her desk.

It’s not much, but it’s enough to keep her going.

Every day looks the same, and she wants something different as much as she fears it.

Maybe that’s why a thrill runs down her spine when Kevin shows up at the precinct one day, his eyes dancing with an uncharacteristic apprehension.

She chews her lip nervously as she eyes Holt’s closed door, and as it opens to reveal a slightly-worried Kevin she lets her pen drop to her desk.

“Santiago,” Kevin says softly, a slightly wavering smile toying at his lips. “Would you come in here for a second?”

She stands, making her best attempt at a confident posture, and strolls toward the office, exchanging a brief, confused glance with Rosa on the way there.

“Captain,” she says, forcing some cheeriness into her voice. “You wanted to see me?”

“Yes,” Holt says, gesturing at her to close the door. “I wanted to ask a favor.”

“A favor.”

“We know the last two and a half years have been long and hard, and that you’ve been through a lot–“

Something in her stomach clenches. “What is it, sir?”

Kevin clears his throat and she turns toward him as he steps forward, looking uncharacteristically uncomfortable. “Well, uh – you may remember that before – um, before everything happened, Raymond and I were talking about doing a vow renewal.”

She nods.

“We – er, well, we thought that – um, since some time has passed, and, uh, well–“

“We still want to do it,” Holt interrupts, shooting a reassuring smile at his husband.

“Oh,” Amy says, a curious emotion creeping up her shoulders. “Um, sorry, that’s great, but what do I have to do with that?”

Kevin taps a finger on the desk, looking even more uncomfortable. “Raymond thinks you would be a good person to, er, give a speech at the ceremony. And I am inclined to agree.”

“Oh,” Amy says again. “Um, that’s a huge honor, sir–“

“You do not have to accept,” Holt says, watching her carefully. “I promise I will not think less of you. And if I were in your position, I’m not sure I would want to either. We simply – I have a lot of respect for you, Santiago, as an employee, as a mentee, and as a friend. And it would be an honor to have you speak.”

She hesitates, her hands kneading the fabric of her blazer, and glances at Kevin. He gives her a small smile.

“Please don’t feel obligated to, really – we’re asking as friends, and we would completely understand if you don’t want to –“

“I do,” she says quickly. “I do want to, don’t get me wrong, I just – may I have some time to think about it?”

“Of course,” Holt says gently. “Take all the time you need.”

 -

 “You don’t have to do it,” Rosa says later that day, taking a swig of her beer. “Holt won’t like you any less.”

Amy shifts in her seat, eying the neon Shaw’s sign that hangs over the bar. “I know, but part of me wants to. If he’d asked me to do it three years ago, I would’ve lost my mind. There’s no way I’d even consider turning it down.”

“So do it.”

“But things are different now, you know? People are – people are gone, and the concept of love doesn’t feel the same anymore, and I don’t know if I have it in me– ”

 “So don’t do it.”

“You are so unhelpful; do you know that?”

Rosa shrugs. “It’s your decision.”

“Yeah, and I’m asking you for help."

The beer bottle hits the table with a thud, and Rosa sighs. “If you want my honest opinion–”

“I do.”

“Then I think you should do it.”

“Okay,” Amy says slowly. “Why?”

“That support group you go to – it’s all about moving on, right? About making sure Thanos doesn’t get the satisfaction of ending our lives, too.”

“I mean, yeah, but–”

“Part of moving on is living like you would have without tragedy. And without tragedy, you would’ve screamed ‘Yes!!’ before Holt could even finish his sentence.”

“Yeah,” Amy says quietly. “But…there is tragedy. It happened. And ignoring it just seems wrong, somehow.”

Rosa looks at her, an uncharacteristic softness in her gaze. “Jake would’ve wanted you to do it.”

Amy’s jaw clenches. “That – that’s not –”

“Yeah, it is,” Rosa says flatly. “If Jake was here, would you be sitting here right now, forcing me to have this conversation?”

“I – well, that’s beside the point, isn’t it, since he isn’t here, and–”

“No, it’s not,” Rosa interrupts. “If he was here, you’d be celebrating with him, and he’d be equally as excited for you as he would be about getting to see his dads hold a wedding ceremony.”

Amy’s hand tightens around the stem of her wine glass.

Rosa notices, of course, and her voice is gentler when she speaks again. “I’m just saying, you shouldn’t be afraid to do it because you think you’re disrespecting his memory, or the love you had and lost. If anything, you standing up and celebrating love in defiance of everything that’s been taken from you is an act of incredible courage. It would honor his memory. And he’d be so proud of you for it.”

Amy hesitates, but the more she stares at her drink the more she notices that the queasiness in her stomach is fading.

“I–yeah, okay,” she mutters. “Okay, I’ll do it.”

Rosa grins. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” Amy breathes, a smile starting to make its way onto her lips. “Yeah. I’m gonna do it.”

  -

 The ceremony is small and intimate, and as Amy stands at the front of the room, looking out into the faces of her mentor and friends, she feels a small rush of pride at the family the Nine-Nine has managed to build.

“Ask anyone at the Nine-Nine, and they’ll tell you that Captain Holt and Kevin have a bond that is as unbreakable as they come,” she starts, and the sight of everyone’s smiles is surprisingly calming. “And I think we’ve seen that to be true. The snap broke apart so many couples, but it couldn’t touch them.”

There is a collective, subdued intake of breath, and Amy’s jaw tightens slightly.

“I know it’s hard to talk about, and it may seem inappropriate on a day like this, but I think it’s important to acknowledge. Because this is more than a celebration of love. It’s a celebration of a determination, a celebration of defiant joy in the face of a world that laughs at you and says you will never be happy again.”

Terry’s eyes start shining in the front row.

“I lost my husband, Jake, that day. And his best friend, Charles.” She pauses. “Charles was spared a Jake-less existence, and there are times I think he was the lucky one. But I realize, now, that it does not do to dwell on what might have been when what we have, what is, is still so beautiful. Tinged with pain and loss, maybe, but still beautiful.”

She smiles. “That’s been the theme of the entire Holt-Cozner relationship. Finding love, despite everything telling them that they cannot. Being confronted with danger, with fear, with risk, but making the incredibly brave choice to love anyway.”

The pride and love in Holt’s eyes seem to be igniting a fire within her, but it is not the roaring flame she is used to; instead, it is warm, safe, and comforting. A hearth, rather than a blaze.

“Thank you, Captain, and thank you, Kevin, for everything. You have taught me so much since Captain Holt first walked through the doors of the Nine-Nine, both police work-related and not, and this is perhaps the most important lesson of all. Love really, truly, does persevere, and we are all stronger because of it.”

“So thank you. And congratulations.”

She steps back from the microphone, Rosa mouths proud of you from the front row, and as the room explodes into applause, Amy feels the emptiness lift a little.

When she steps off the elevator the next day, the bullpen is humming with energy – Rosa is perched on Terry’s desk, handing him a container of yogurt, Holt is talking to a few beat cops next to the break room, and Hitchcock and Scully are loudly debating the virtues of extra cheese on a meatball sub.

It’s not quite the comfortable bustle of years past, but it’s closer, and for the first time in a long time, there is a smile on Amy’s face as she settles into her chair.

And if she spends the entire afternoon cleaning the dust and filth off the desk across from her – well, who could blame her?

#brooklyn 99 #brooklyn nine nine #b99 #b99 summer 2019 fic exchange #jake peralta #amy santiago #jake peralta x amy santiago #peraltiago #raymond holt x kevin cozner #holt and kevin renew their vows #my fics #b99 fanfic #b99 fandom events

[amydancepants-peralta]

we won’t run (we can fight)

Part Four - so say the unsayable, say the most human of things

No.

Amy’s feet cannot move fast enough, hands dropping her weapon as she pushes members of the crowd aside.  Rushing forward, desperate to get to Jake.  No, no, no.

Gina’s voice breaks through the deafening silence.  “We need Lord Terry!  Where is he?”

“Lord Terry?”

“Yes!  He is the Giver of Life!  Jake needs him.”  Despite her hazy thoughts, Amy vaguely remembers hearing about a man from Jeffords Junction, a province near Brooklyne but just outside its borders.  All hail Lord Terry, was the common call to arms.

Countless people are now shouting around her, suggesting various locations of this mysterious Lord, but Amy hears nothing bar the sound of her own heart pounding in her ears as she gets closer to Jake, eyes welling with tears when she finds him on the floor.  Red surrounds him, and it is not the tapestry.  NO, NO, NO.  His face looks pale, lips whispering her name as he reaches for her hand.  The shouting gets closer, and their hands link just as Jake’s eyelids begin to flutter close.  

Her head begins to shake as his grip weakens, hers tightening in response.  “Come on, Jake.”  It isn’t supposed to end like this.  “Stay with me.”

A bulky man rushes down next to her, gentle hands pushing her slightly to the side as he leans over Jake, careful eyes surveying the damage as he begins shouting out orders to the others.  Still, Amy hears nothing, mind focused solely on the man in front of her, eyes trained on the lips that she still hasn’t had the chance to kiss. 

His skin grows paler, and his eyes close completely.  

It cannot end like this.

Rosa crouches down next to her, a surprisingly gentle arm wrapping around her shoulder in an act of comfort, and the tears begin to fall.  “This can’t … he can’t ..” Amy whispers, looking up at Rosa, desperate for any kind of miracle to appear.

“I know.” Rosa replies, pulling her closer briefly before standing, tugging Amy upwards as more people come forward, clutching the items that Lord Terry has called for.  

They turn Jake’s body to one side, pushing cotton against the wound, and Amy watches with blurring eyes as the material rapidly turns from taupe to red.  The hand that once held hers now lies limp to the side, fingers still stretched out in her direction, and she drops to her knees once again, gripping onto him in a futile attempt to bring him back from his current state.

“We need to move him.” The same voice breaks through her thoughts, and this time Amy turns her head towards the sound. The man she now knows to be Lord Terry is crouched beside her, hands moving quickly to wrap cloth around Jake’s torso as the bleeding refuses to stop. She realises that in the flurry of activity that she has yet to acknowledge him, and she takes a moment to catch her breath, mumbling a soft thank you to him. Santiagos, after all, never forget their manners.

He turns, nodding grimly at her as his hands push down on the material.  “No problem.  Terry can see he’s important to you.”

She wipes away her tears with her spare hand.  “He’s everything to me.”

He holds her gaze for another moment, nodding again slowly before glancing up at the villagers that have come to his aid.  “We need to get him to a bed immediately.”

The group move quickly, gathering up his limp body as Amy’s heartbeat goes into overdrive, pounding for both her and Jake as they lead his body away.  She falls into step behind them, prepared to follow him wherever until a steady hand drops to her shoulder and she turns to see King Holt beside her.

“I understand from your appearance that you are feeling a series of very strong emotions right now.”

Amy stands in shocked silence, temporarily mute as the awe of being in the same airspace as her one true King takes over.  His eyebrows quirk up, a silent request for a response, and she nods quickly.  

“I thought you might take comfort from the knowledge that Lord Terry is the greatest healer that Brooklyne has ever seen.  Not to mention that Sir Jacob was easily the finest member of my Royal Guard.  There is no doubt in my mind that he will not be taken down by the sword of somebody as inconsequential as Sir Keith.”

A few more tears roll down her face, and she pushes them away quickly, giving her ruler a grateful smile as her eyes move back to the archway the villagers had carried Jake through.

“It has come to my attention that it was both yourself and Jacob that began the fracas this evening.  Is that correct?”

Lowering her head, Amy nods.  “Forgive me, your majesty, for it was my idea.  Together we had led the villagers to the castle so that we could take on Pembroke.  We had no idea that - ”

A hand is raised in protest.  “There is no need to apologise, Lady ..?”

“Santiago.  Lady Amelia Santiago.”  She drops into a tiny curtsy.

“Lady Santiago.  You have done exemplary work this evening, and I apologise for interrupting your plans.  But I hope that the end result was to your satisfaction.”

“Oh, absolutely.  But, sir …”. Her eyes turn back towards the doorway, feeling the pull of her heart growing stronger the further the men moved Jake away from her.

“Go to him, Amelia.  You obviously belong together.  But come see me, when you are done.  The kingdom deserves to have somebody like you speaking for them, and I believe I have just the right role for you.”

A tiny shimmer of excitement blossoms in Amy’s chest, and she smiles as her king, knees bending into another curtsy before racing after Lord Terry and his helpers.  The future, perhaps, held promise.  But none of it would matter if it came at the cost of her heart. 

Too long for Tumblr!  🏰❤️ Find the rest on AO3

#mine #b99 fanfic #b99 summer 2019 fic exchange #peraltiago fanfiction #peraltiago fic #medieval au #b99 fanfics #brooklyn nine nine fanfic #this thing just grew to epic proportions #and tanked quite frankly #but I love it anyways #and I hope you will too