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397bartonstreet · 4 years

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Is it Weird I Kind of Want to Kiss You?

This is my submission for the b99 summer fic exchange 2020! This fic is for @letsperaltiago, I really hope you enjoy it, I had a lot of fun writing it! Also thank you @theysayweareasleep for helping me out with this i couldnt have done it without you. And thank you to @b99fandomevents for holding this exchange, I was happy to be apart of it.

read on ao3

The whole squad had officially retired about an hour earlier. It was a relief to be able to let loose after a hard day of many failures from a case. The mugginess of the bar, under the dim lights, the shouts from the tables behind them, felt like the perfect way to unwind. Leaving Amy with Jake to clink together one more glass of whiskey before turning in for the night. At this point, the alcohol and infectious energy of the place have relaxed their tense shoulders and they can now just enjoy each other’s company. Even if it’s only just the two of them.

Amy clutches her stomach as the last remnants of her laughing fit fade away. Releasing her unconscious hold of Jake’s wrist so he can wipe the tear leaking from his eye, and he comes back to earth with a few chuckles.

“Okay, no, but really, some people can just be the dumbest people in the entire world,” Amy says through catching her breath. She pulls the rest of her hair down as it’s already coming undone, but doesn’t bother fixing her skewed blazer.

“Hey, let’s be honest, maybe they’re not as dumb as their moments. Like I’m pretty damn sure you and I have had many a moments dumb in past,” Jake stumbles to say and Amy has to resist patting down the curls that have stood to one side.

“God, don’t remind me, and it’s always you,” Amy points accusingly. Jake gasps and slaps her hand away.

“Noooo,” Jake petulantly says before chugging the last of his drink. She can barely remember what number drink that is, since she’s had the same amount he has. She quickly places her finger back in his face.

“It’s always you who makes me do the dumbest crap in the whole world!”

“Don’t even lie,” he bangs his fist on the table and doesn’t resist the giddy, drunken laugh that comes out of him. And it’s so infectious, his energy and the way his smile makes his eyes all squinty.

“I am not lying! You always make me look like an idiot!”

“You do that yourself,” he playfully scoffs.

“Right, do you remember the date,” Amy says, punching him on the shoulder. Jake pauses, mouth agape and eyes squinted. The cogs are definitely turning in there, like it does about once a day before it shuts down and let’s his body take over.

“To be fair, that technically was your fault, if you had just tried being actually a good detective-

“Ohhh, don’t-,” Amy throws her head back.

“Then maybe you would actually have won,” he teases.

“Don’t even start, we were at the same place you got lucky,” her volume rising to overshadow his.

“I did get lucky, I got a date with Lamey Santiagoooo.” He tries to take another sip from his glass and frowns when it turns up empty.

“And it was the fucking best day of your life.” Jake gasps and looks around, lips pursed in suppressed laughter.

“Oh my god, Amy Santiago is cursing. She’s cursing!” He yells out to the rest of the bar. Amy notices the bartender throwing them a warning glance. She places her hands on his arm and shakes him a little.

“Shut up,” she grits through her teeth, but she really can’t even pretend to be serious right now, with the alcohol still coursing, and even feels like it might be a tad worse. “You’re an actual child.”

“Childsayswhat?” She rolls her eyes. That wasn’t even funny back when she was twelve years old.

“I’m not falling for that.”

“Ha, that’s because you’re a nerd.”

“Well, you’re a loser.”

“Actually, you’re the loser, I won the bet,” he grins and Amy groans up at the ceiling. She tips into her mouth the last of her drink and lets it puff out her cheeks. Behind her, a group yells among themselves and she realizes just how alone her and Jake are. It’s not the first time they’ve gotten drinks together, or have been left alone after the squad leaves them for the night.

But ever since everything that’s happened. Teddy. Sofia. Dumb feelings and stupid declarations. Things feel different, something feels inevitable. Like at any moment, something unknown and unsaid can ruin the set rhythm between them.

But no, she shouldn’t let that ruin things right now. Things are good, they’re great, they’re-

“Do you want to know that this means Amy?” Jake asks, catching himself from swaying just a little.

“Hm,” she asks.

“This means,” he stops to let the pause linger. “that you and I are at the start of an awful relationship.”

“Oh really,” she says. He’s joking, and they’re drunk. She certainly feels drunk, which is probably why she’s letting herself remember the unspoken issues between them. It’s definitely why she’s letting herself remember the unspoken issues between them. It’s just a joke. And it’s not an uncommon occurrence to have people in your life you wouldn’t mind kissing. Or touching. Or other things.

“Yup, we’re at the start of a lifelong terrible relationship that of loservilleness.”

“Ha! So you admit you’re a loser.”

“Amy Santiago, when you take a step back to rediscover the world, you will realize that we all, as one people, are losers.”

“You’re lucky that mostly made sense.”

“Heck yeah it did. Anyway, back to what I was saying, you and I are about to live a terrible life together. We’re going to framed for a heinous crime we did not commit-”

“Why.”

“Because.”

“Alright,” she says with a shake of her head at his antics.

It’s a joke, it’s just a joke.

“We’re going to marry at the Chapel near the rat infested Walmart.”

“Okay,” she nods with mock seriousness.

“After we wed, we run away as outlaws to Montana, change our names to Bucky and Birdie-”

“I call Birdie!”

“And we have a son named McClane.” Amy looks at him with an exasperated look, and he can barely contain the mischievous look spreading on his face.

“Jake, that's a terrible name.”

“You’re a terrible name!” She wouldn’t be surprised if he actually did try to name their child McClane, he… really loves that movie. But, it’s endearing really, that there’s something he connects to and loves. She likes the way he unapologetically loves.

She taps her chin since he’s staring at her intently for a response.

“McClane…,” she mumbles to herself. “ooh, you know what? McClane might not be an awful name. If you really think about it, it can also sound like a name for a librarian.” She knows she’s hit a button. He cackles and drops his head into his hands. He turns and glances at her with annoyance, he almost looks impressed.

“Why do you always ruin things that are fun,” he says, tapping her shin lightly with his f. She’s definitely drunk, because even that felt charged. Felt intentional. But she’s just drunk.

“Do you want our son to be named McClane or not?” She says, tapping his shin back. It’s fine if she does, they’re friends.

“Fine, but I’ll find something to ruin for you.”

“I’m solid as a rock honey, you can’t move me.” Jake raises an eyebrow and smirks. He doesn’t break eye contact when he holds out two fingers and gives her shoulder a firm shove. A stupid squeal escapes her throat as she stumbles off the stool she’s sitting on and lands on her ass.

“Ok, I think that means it's time to go.”

“Yeah,” she agrees. She holds out her hand for him to help her up. “Walk me?”

Amy’s relieved that she can still mostly walk in a straight line. It isn’t until Jake bumps into her that they start to stumble a little.

New York is not as busy tonight as it usually is, and she likes the clear path they get to walk in without many obstacles. They gag and skitter around the giant dead rat on the ground, and they have to cover their nose when the worst smell NY has ever produced punches them in the face. Other than that, they’re not bothered and she’s grateful for the cold night air after hours in the hot bar.

And they haven’t stopped talking since leaving the bar. About the episode of West Wing last night, the bruise Jake got from tripping over Charles’ box of jars of something, Amy’s annoying brother David and the picture of his new car he’d sent to the sibling group chat.

She thinks Jake is the only person she gets like this with; loud, talkative, and rowdy. It’s the best, and she loves these moments with her best friend.

“You’re not even ready, Bucky would romance the hell out of you,” he says, poking her lightly in the side.

“Really? Coming from the world’s cheapest date?”

“I’ve gotten no complaints.”

“You’ve gotten many complaints!”

“Not from Birdie.”

“Fair,” she says.

“I would drive you absolutely insane with my respect for your boundaries. Make you miserable by unconditionally supporting your ambitions,” he says and Amy wrinkles her nose.

“Sounds horrendous.”

“Yup. You’d make me sleep on the couch with how much I get along with your family.”

“Disgusting,” she says. To be fair, she probably would send him to the couch if she caught him having a nice conversation with David. No way will she let David make her husband think he was better than her. In high school, one of her boyfriends left her to pursue her amazing brother. She’s never letting that happen again.

“David?” he asks.

“David,” she assents. But she’s already ranted about him once today and she doesn’t want to break the Only One Rant About David a Day rule she’s set for herself. “I would pay attention to your interests and actively listen when you speak.”

“That’s just low,” his voice is guttural when he says that and she curses her attraction to deep voices. She clears her throat.

“Buy you intimate gifts from the heart and remind you of my appreciation of your existence every single day,” she says. His hand swaying beside hers lightly brushes against hers, and he continues the conversation like it didn’t happen. He probably didn’t care, maybe he really doesn’t care anymore.

“Did Teddy do that?” he asks.

“Never missed a day,” she says.

“Gross, how did you manage,” he barely gets the word out before his foot catches on the edge of a fire hydrant. He releases an ‘oof’ and grabs onto her hand to catch his balance. She’s way too inebriated to catch him, she goes tumbling along with him. She just barely manages to settle herself whereas he goes flat on the floor.

“Woah, are you okay,” she says, the laugh she makes is almost a cackle. When he looks up at her, his face is red and he can barely breathe with the force of the laughter that shakes his shoulders. She tries to pull him up, grabbing him by the arm and making a feeble attempt to carry him back up. It just barely works, with more fumbling and swaying involved.

“Just like this, I’d support you in all aspects of life,” she teases, helping to steady him on his feet.

“Even if, in our hanky town in Montana-

“Hanky?”

“I get arrested for assault when someone tries to take the last jar of mayo?”

“Especially then,” she says. It suddenly hits her that her hands are still on his arms, she still has him less than a foot away. He’s so close, way closer than she expected him to be. Despite many years of them working together, on all those stakeouts and nights slaving over case files and evidence, she’s never had him this close. His crooked smile is still there, still goofy and sweet, but it’s changed from what it was a second ago. It’s shy, almost hesitant, surveying something on her face and she wants so badly to know what it means.

“This doesn’t sound like the worst relationship ever you know,” Jake says and she almost startles when she feels more than sees a hand reaching up to her face, lightly brushing a lock of hair behind her ear. So slight and imperceptible that he might have just been taking something out of her hair. But that’s not the thing that strikes her the most. It’s the look on his face. She’s seen it before, from Teddy, her college boyfriend, the hotdog vendor at the stand near Shake Shack. But never Jake.

This look seeps low into her stomach and expands into her chest. There’s an overwhelming pang that she wants to chase for miles, just to see where it takes her. She says, “Maybe not.”

It comes out softer than she means it to. It makes what should have been a joke… something else. That inevitable thing.

Even this stupid life together that they just made up right now, she’s never been able to joke like that with anyone else, never been able to imagine that with them. But with him, maybe it’s just the alcohol she’s probably had too much of, it’s not so ridiculous.

“Is it weird I kind of want to kiss you right now?” he says softly. She’s officially lost. Lost on him and in this moment. It’s so inevitable, it’s so close.

“Is it weird I kind of want you to?”

Her hands tighten on him, and there’s a moment of bated breath. She almost hates the giddiness she feels bubbling up within. It’s like gravity to just lean forward… and embrace their inevitable.

They’re shaken when a loud horn of a truck breaks the silence as it drives past them. It’s like they’re yanked apart by their surprise and Amy puts a hand on her chest to settle her beating heart. She looks over at Jake. His eyes are wide and no longer glittering the way they were a second ago. The moment is gone.

“Dammit New York,” Jake says, avoiding her eyes by looking in the direction the truck had left. When he looks back, his eyes are still kind of glazed over from their drinks. She’s sure hers are the same. Their drinks have led to silly jokes and wild fantasies. To whatever the hell that was.

To Jake’s next brilliant observation.

“Holy shit, is that a Baskin Robbins?”

“Oooooh,” she says with a gasp. He grabs her arm and they run in the direction of the shop.

#b99 #peraltiago #b99fandomevents #b99 summer 2020 fic exchange #my writing #my fic

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amydancepants-peralta · 4 years

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The 5 times Jake & Amy tried to get some ‘alone time’ during the holidays (and the 1 time they’re successful)

Here is my entry into the @b99fandomevents Summer 2020 Challenge, for @peraltasames 💗 also available on ao3, as it is a little long ☺️

(For those of you playing at home, only part 2 is NSFW 🙊)

Part 1:

(where it all begins)

Attempt number 1: The Santiago Family Holiday House

“Thought I might find you here.”

Lifting her head up from its resting place in the crook of her arm, Amy doesn’t even try to suppress the smile that began to creep onto her face the moment she’d picked up on Jake’s voice.

She cocks her head to the side as he falters mid-step, an obvious blush creeping onto his cheeks as he lifts his hands, raising two bottles in mock surrender. “I mean, obviously I didn’t know that you’d be out here … I’ve never been here before and that’s giving off some real Creepy New Boyfriend vibes. You know what, I’m just going to reset and start again.” Digging one sneakered heel into the landing, he does a quick full body turn before Amy can give any type of reassurance; blinking quickly when their eyes meet again to indicate a Full Reset. “Hey, Ames! Your brother mentioned that you might be out here, so I thought I’d do something completely non-stalkery and bring you a drink.”

Chuckling, Amy reaches out for one of the offered bottles, riding that still new high that comes from hearing Jake Peralta refer to himself as her boyfriend. “Thanks, babe.”

It’s Jake’s turn to grin right back, clearly enjoying her use of their favourite new term for each other; a colloquial word that still seemed kinda new - given it’s only been four months since they got together - yet somehow fits so well it’s almost a little strange to remember a time when they couldn’t refer to each other as such. There’s a shared giddiness that floats between them as they clink bottles and take a sip, and her cheeks kinda hurt from smiling this much, but Amy really doesn’t care.

Gesturing at the expanse of the relatively simple deck, Jake takes in the wooden panelling of the exterior walls before turning his attention back to his girlfriend. “So … this is your little secret hideout, I hear?”

Nodding, Amy returns to her earlier position leaning against the high railing in front of her, letting out a soft yeah as her free hand runs along the timber paling.

Built by her grandfather as a home away from the city several decades ago, the Santiago Lake House has long been considered a place of refuge for the family. With six of her brothers, two uncles and her father Victor on the force, common holidays were rarely guaranteed off; and so this year they had elected a non-particular weekend in June as their opportunity for all to come together. Save for a last-minute issue at Victor’s precinct pulling him away from the festivities, all eight Santiago siblings (and their mother Camila) had arrived earlier today for a well overdue holiday.

While the majority of her family often preferred to gather around the oversized back deck, from a young age Amy had gravitated towards the more intimate side balcony that overlooked the water. Stretching out from the family room situated on the second floor, the surrounding tree tops lent a sense of privacy the back deck couldn’t completely offer; and on the evenings when things began to feel a little too loud, Amy would often come up here to decompress, watching the night slip by as the moon silvered the lake before her.

Taking a sip of his beer, Jake moves to stand next to Amy, resting his weight against the banister as he drinks in the view. “I really like it.” A small army of goosebumps appear on Amy’s skin, despite the dusk’s only slightly fading heat, as his arm brushes against her skin. “Perfectly compact, with a great view.” She can sense him grin, shoulder nudging against hers. “Feels like you.”

Amy feels her cheeks heat up as a blush washes over her, grateful that the relative darkness of the almost night sky would be able to hide her reaction. Jake was the very first boyfriend she’d ever brought to the lake house - a fact that Manny had announced very loudly in the middle of the private tour she had been giving earlier - and the look of elation and pride that had taken over Jake’s features at the discovery has remained fresh in her mind for the past few hours.

(It had never been an overly deliberate action, to keep previous boyfriends away from the lake house, but the thought of Jake joining in, within a minute of the date being set, had been so automatic that Amy is only now realising that the concept of being here without him had seemed completely illogical.)

A melody played from Luis’ acoustic guitar is carried up to the two of them by a sudden breeze, cutting through the tops of the surrounding pine, and Amy lets out a small shiver: forever and always susceptible to the cold, regardless of the lingering summer heat. Without missing a beat; Jake moves to stand behind her - covering her back with his front with the instinct of not only a gentleman, but a man who is very quickly taking complete hold of her heart.

His arms come to rest besides hers along the edge of the bannister, and quietly Amy hopes that he cannot feel the rapid pounding of her heart through her jacket. It felt a little ridiculous to act this way, like some kind of lovesick teenager drawing hearts all over her notebook, but dating Jake for the past four months doesn’t seem to have taken the edge off the way his presence made her feel.

“So …. Tell me about David.”

As hard as she tries to avoid it, Amy feels her shoulders tense up - the urge to let out an exaggerated UGH almost too strong to resist. She’d only touched on David’s presence briefly on the drive up to the lake house, and despite her own personal reservations, she supposed it was sort of fair that Jake might have a few questions. Letting out a calming breath, Amy gives herself a quick reminder to keep her responding tone light. “What would you like to know?”

“Uhh … well, look - the way his photo is displayed on that mantel in the formal lounge, and the clear adoration in your mother’s voice whenever his name came up made me wonder if he was on some super secret mission to Mars or something.” Shaking his head, Jake knocks the lip of the beer bottle against his forehead. “I honestly spent the first twenty minutes of polite chatter frantically rewinding all of our conversations over the last few years in my head, trying to remember you ever bringing up something like that. Thank god he walked in when he did, or I’m sure I would’ve ended up saying something really stupid.”

Knowing that Jake can’t necessarily see her (okay, perhaps childish) reaction, Amy rolls her eyes at the mention of Camila’s unfiltered reverence when it comes to David. “Yeah, he’s basically the ‘Do No Wrong’ guy … The Golden Child, as Julian and I like to call him. It’s kinda always been like that, ever since he came home from first grade with a report card filled with gold star stickers and praise from literally every teacher he’d ever been in contact with.”

Swallowing his last swig of beer, Jake scoffs into the night sky. “Gold stars are cool, I guess. But any fool knows that the scratch-n-sniff stickers are where it’s really at.”

“Obviously. Strawberry, the clear winner.”

His free hand landing on her forearm, Jake squeezes gently. “I’d always been partial to grape, but strawberry just reminds me of that chapstick you use before bed now, and I am a big fan of those strawberry kisses to start my morning.”

Craning her head to the side slightly, Amy flashes Jake a grin before meeting him halfway for a soft kiss. She, too, had become a big fan of morning kisses … and afternoon kisses, night kisses … basically any time she got to feel the pressure of Jake’s lips against her own was a winner in her book - and she knows she’s being a little ridiculous but she also really, really likes him. Remembering their previous conversation as she pulls away, Amy shakes her head slightly before looking out onto the lake again.

“It’s worse at home, if I’m being honest - it’s basically the same shrine on the mantel, only at home we have a piano in the living room as well. So … how well you’re doing at school or work or whatever, determines your position either on the piano or the wall of shame above the staircase.”

“I mean … I’m sure it’s not meant to feel like a wall of shame, babe.”

Amy nods, letting out a quick I want to believe you laugh. “Tell that to Tony. One semester, he wasn’t focusing as much as normal, and his grade dropped by a whole level. Two days after he came home with the results, Mama conveniently decided to do a redesign of the living room - one that just so happened to include the shuffling of Tony’s school portrait from next to mine on the piano, to sitting at the bottom of the staircase.”

Taking a long sip of Cristal, Amy pauses to take stock of the conversation. It felt slightly traitorous to be talking to Jake about the hierarchy that - prior to this evening - she’d only ever discussed with her brothers (minus one). There’s never been a question over whether their mother loved them dearly - an abundance of love was palpable between the walls of both their family home and the holiday house - but it was also impossible to deny that the shadow of David’s successes, paired with Camila’s obvious praise, had loomed over Amy’s shoulders during her many late night study sessions.

This wasn’t the first time talking to Jake had led to Amy admitting more than she would to most - he had that (at times, irritating) ability to sneak past her guard long before they’d been anything more than colleagues. But one of her most favourite details of their new relationship, aside from the why-did-we-wait-so-long-for-this sex, was the amount of nights they would stay up just … talking. They’d learnt more about each other in the past four months than the last two years combined, and still she craves more. Shaking her now empty bottle, Amy stoops to place it on the ground beside her before straightening, sighing in contentment as Jake’s shoulders rest against hers once again.

“Eventually, Tony’s photo found its way back to the piano .. but the message was pretty clear.” Letting out a rueful laugh, she shakes her head slightly. “It’s no secret that I love a bit of friendly competition. But … it’d be kinda nice if the rungs of the ladder weren’t always so far away from each other.”

At the feeling of Jake’s lips pressing into her hair Amy lets out one last sigh, surprising herself with just how lighter her shoulders seem to feel. A silence stretches between them as Jake drains the last of his beer, and just when she’s about to change the subject completely, he speaks.

“So. There’s a little known fact about me, that you should probably be made aware of now that we’re all smooshing booties offical stylez and whatever.”

Her lips curl up at the term. “Oh, yeah?”

“Yup. Obviously you’re already aware of my titles as Greatest Detective Ever, Badass MC, Amazing Lover, Fierce Defender of Good from Evil ..”

“Oh god, is this list ever going to end?”

“… Master dunker at B-ball, unofficially official taste tester of any and all sour candies … but! What you might not know is that I am also a crazy good Hype Man. Like .. the best. All the others can just go home coz I kick the most butt at hyping things up and that’s just the facts.”

Turning her head slightly towards Jake, Amy glances up at her boyfriend from the corner of her eyes. “I feel like there was a point you were making, here?”

Depositing his empty bottle along the far edge of the banister, Jake’s hands return to weave their fingers through both of Amy’s, staying close as she watches him take a heavy swallow. Sensing that something important was about to be said, and that Jake may not be at the Locked Eyes Grand Gesture stage just yet, she trains her gaze towards the lake and waits.

“What I’m saying, Ames, is that I am officially signing up to be your hype man. I will literally have zero hesitation in pointing out your awesomeness to anybody that doesn’t immediately see it, and I just ..” Pausing for a moment, he shuffles closer to her back, squeezing their gripped fingers tightly, and she takes no hesitation in squeezing right back. “You need to know that … no matter what happens. I’m always going to be there, cheering you on.”

The unspoken definition of the no matter what happens hangs between them, the mere mention of anything but the two of them staying together sounding both unwelcome and impossible, and Amy nods against his chest.

“I just …. They could rewire the stars with your accolades, Ames. The fact that it goes over anybody’s head baffles me, let alone somewhere like here.”

She nods again, temporarily unable to speak as unexpected tears begin to threaten their escape. There were an abundance of reports and awards that spoke of her achievements, and logically she knew that any task that she set her mind to could be mastered with relative ease.

But to know that Jake not only noticed her triumphs, but wanted to actually (and, perhaps literally) shout them from the rooftops, meant more to Amy than she could have anticipated.

He presses another kiss to her hair, and she holds onto him tightly. There’s so much familiarity surrounding her right now - from the scratch of the logwood bannisters; the filtered laughter of her brothers and their extended families, to the slightly acrid smell of burnt marshmallows as Luis once again fails to make a decent s’more.

Jake’s cologne with it’s spicy notes, and the overall sense of warmth he exudes, should feel foreign amongst it all … but standing here on the balcony with his arms stretched out comfortably on top of her own, Amy cannot deny that it feels less like an intrusion, and more like the final piece of life’s puzzle locking into place.

Her voice cuts through the night, tone soft as she rests her head briefly against Jake’s shoulder. “I’m really glad you’re here, Jake.”

The bridge of Jake’s nose brushes her temple as he dips his head lower, pressing a kiss against her cheekbone, and her heart skips at the simple intimacy of it all. “Me too, Ames.”

His fingers, still interlaced with hers, tighten as he pulls their arms closer to her middle; holding the two of them in a tight embrace as his continues a trail of kisses, letting out a quiet sigh as he follows her jawline. It’s as his teeth begin to graze the outside edge of her earlobe - a guaranteed winning choice - that he begins to whisper, the warmth of his breath sending shivers down her spine. “So if I’m officially the first boyfriend you’ve brought here … does that mean there’s a bed somewhere that needs breaking in?”

Grinning, Amy turns in his embrace, releasing her grip on his hands so that she can throw her arms around her boyfriend’s neck and nod. He gives her a suggestive waggle of his eyebrows, absorbing her laughter with a slightly longer kiss as his arms wrap around her lower body, and it only takes a moment when he pulls away and looks down at her - but in a moment, she knows.

It’s a combination of things - a curated list of all of her favourite details about him coming together on a hazy June evening: the softness of his touch every time he was near; the warmth of his breath when it ghosted over her skin, the way he made her feel like she was the only person in the world that he could ever want to kiss. She knows that it’s still technically early days, but as his fingers tip gently underneath her chin and draw her closer for the kind of kiss one doesn’t forget easily, Amy knows for sure that she is most definitely falling in love with Jake Peralta.

It’s the kind of thought - the kind of kiss - that distracts even the most focused of people, and for that reason alone Amy doesn’t hear the heavy thud of Manny’s boots bounding up the staircase until it’s accompanied by his loud Busted! tone.

“Okay amantes - time to come and at least pretend to be sociable with the family, yah?”

Amy’s lips pull away from Jake’s with a smack, swivelling her head towards her brother as she fixes him with a glare. “We’re here for an entire weekend, Manny. Plenty of time for family stuff.”

That frustratingly mischievous glint appears in her brother’s eyes - a sure sign of danger ahead - and Amy pulls away slightly from Jake. “Ah-huh. No biggie, Ma’s just been asking about your new boyfriend Jake, and is wondering where you’d gotten to … I’ll just tell her you’re both up here exploring the backs of each other’s throats, if that’s cool?”

Grabbing her wrist quickly, Jake yelps out a quick “Nope!”, gently pulling Amy towards the staircase. “We were actually just talking about how we should go down and join the crowd, weren’t we Ames?”

Manny makes little to no effort to conceal his laughter as Amy’s response is a continuation of her glare, and he half-turns towards Jake as all three begin their descent towards the back deck. “FYI, my bedroom is right next to yours, and I sleep real light … wouldn’t want to have to tell Mama about the things that go bump in the night, hey hermana?”

“You’ll get yours, manito.” Amy mumbles, linking hands with Jake as they move further away from their private oasis.

There was a very good chance that this was Manny’s version of revenge (she may or may not have stumbled on her brother & his boyfriend last year, something she still swears to have been an accident) but now she’s both turned on and frustrated; knowing that as long as Manny has anything to do with it, there will be No Sex for her and Jake at the lake house.

Truly, she couldn’t think of a worse way to begin a holiday.

(… is that a red light blinking?)

Attempt number 2: Santa Barbara

Jake’s eyebrows lift in surprise as the strength of Amy’s shove forces him into the couch cushions below, body barely settling against the base before she begins scrambling onto his lap.

Responding to his shock with a satisfied grin, Amy rests her hands on either side of his face to pull him in for a kiss, catching his soft moans and joining them with her own as it deepens.

It isn’t until she’s begun to graze her teeth against the base of his neck that she catches her breath, whispering as her body begins to grind down against his - “I’m totally blaming you for this, by the way.”

“I’m not sure what I’m taking the blame for, but as long as you keep kissing me like that I’m pretty much going to admit to anything.”

She laughs, sinking her teeth gently into his shoulder and leaving a kiss in their wake. “You and your hands, stroking up and down my back all night while I was trying to be the attentive and supportive sister. It was driving me crazy, you don’t know how close I came to dragging you into the coat closet.”

The two of them had flown to Santa Barbara for a long weekend to show their support for Amy’s closest (aka: secretly favourite) brother, Miguel. As the only Santiago child not to join the NYPD, Miguel had instead chosen to become a specialist in the medical field, relocating to follow a promotion in California. This evening he was receiving an award from his peers at a gala uptown, and both Jake and Amy had jumped at the chance to attend - if for no other reason than a chance to get away, after months of double shifts and leads that had taken them absolutely nowhere.

Amy had chosen a new dress for the occasion - black material that shimmered in just the right way, with a low-scoop back to avoid the unbearable summer heat. Paired with her signature studs and heels high enough to do some serious damage if provoked, she’d felt like a million dollars walking into the gala on Jake’s arm - and had smiled ever so proudly as Miguel received his award.

The rest of the night, however, has become a vague memory … because all she can remember feeling - all she can remember even thinking about - was the way Jake’s fingers felt as they feathered against her exposed skin. With his arm draped over her chair he’d been given the perfect amount of leeway throughout the ceremony, and the non-sensical patterns of unconscious action on her boyfriend’s end had sent a parade of tingles all over her body with every lap.

Safe to say, once all the awards have been presented and they’d had the chance to congratulate Miguel once again, Amy had slammed down her fourth drink and found a convenient reason for her and Jake to leave. Immediately.

“To be fair Ames, you do look amazing tonight,” Jake mumbled in-between kisses, running his hand over the expanse of her back to demonstrate his appreciation. “Honestly, I’m blaming the dress for making my already hot girlfriend Super Mega Hot.”

She rewards his sweet declaration with a heated kiss, hands making quick work of his tie - loosening the knot with practised ease (she does, after all, fasten and loosen his work tie most days) and casting the fabric aside as she begins to tackle his buttons.

A beachside mansion, owned by a friend of Roger’s, had been offered to be their accommodation for the weekend - an olive branch of sorts towards Jake that he’d begrudgingly accepted (the notion of his parents dating each other, something he was slowly coming to terms with). Their delayed flight this afternoon had meant that Jake and Amy barely had time to dump their bags before getting changed and leaving again, but the floor-to-ceiling windows and expansive layout she’d picked up on their way out the door already suggested a very comfortable few days ahead.

It is, in fact, only as Jake drops a quick kiss to her lips, suggesting they move things into the bedroom, that Amy stands and actually takes stock of her surroundings (a combination of four drinks and an irresistible partner can clearly only lead to a distracted mind).

Tugging onto her boyfriend’s hand as he continues leading her towards the hallway, Amy lets out a quiet wait a minute - and it’s just enough to pique Jake’s interest, turning to see what it is that’s caught Amy’s attention.

“Ames?”

Raising her finger in a curious point, Amy surveys the room. “Cameras.” At Jake’s silence, she points them out as she slowly circumnavigates the room. “One, two .. I count four altogether. Four cameras, three of them video. Trained to face the furniture, and not the beach.”

Hands on hips, Jake moves further into the centre of the room, frowning. “Yeah, that is a little weird.”

Her eyebrows knit together as she walks towards the bookshelf next to the tv unit, inspecting a container that managed to catch her eye. “Jake, there are like five different handcuffs in here. All of them furry.” Turning her head, she begins to read a few of the labels attached on a row of VHS tapes. Genna and Nicolai … Matt and Lennon … “Cockpit Larry and the Mile High Stewardi?” Swivelling quickly, Amy turns to gasp at Jake. “Babe … what sort of place has your father organised for us?”

Running his hand along the back of his neck, Jake shakes his head quickly. “Let’s not panic just yet, Ames. This could all just be a series of coincidences that when put together seem really weird, but actually aren’t. It .. looks like a normal house - except for all the cameras that seem to be directed towards the couch we were definitely just making out on, maybe a few sex tapes and what, in hindsight, might definitely be release papers waiting for us on the kitchen bench.”

“There’s what, where?”

“In fact, I bet if I lift the lid off of this bowl thing, we’ll find some delicious candy or potpourri or something … and it’s lube. Many, many bottles of lube. Hey, we’ve got the same flavour!”

Amy’s eyes widen, her face paling significantly as she feels her stomach drop to her feet. “Oh god, this is a sex dungeon isn’t it?”

“If not, it’s the background of at least a few porn videos.” Gripping the base of his hair in frustration, Jake lifts his head to curse at the ceiling. “I should’ve known Roger wouldn’t know anybody with a normal house!”

Sensing the panic build up inside of her, Amy scours the room for her purse and heels, both of which had been discarded near the entryway mid-makeout. The arousal that had been coursing through her mere minutes ago has all but disappeared, replaced by the overwhelming urge to take a shower. She was all for porn, just as long as she wasn’t the star of it (one simply doesn’t find NYPD’s youngest female captain on RedTube) - and this house was the kind of place that, under a black light, would resemble a Jackson Pollock. “Jake, we need to leave. We almost had sex in here!”

“Almost being the keyword, Ames. Unless … ”

“Jake!”

“Coming, my love! Title of the sex tape that we definitely didn’t make here!”

(i’m sensing a pattern here …)

Attempt Number 3: The Beach House

“Jake! Jake’s girlfriend! I just pulled Charles’s ear away from your bedroom door, thought you might wanna know!”

Startled, Jake lifts his head up so quickly it hurts his neck a little, both confused and irritated that his earlier activity of planting a series of kisses along Amy’s bare torso has been so rudely interrupted. “Wait, was that …?”

Raising her head off of the pillow, Amy meets his startled gaze with her own. “Did she just - ”

Their suspicions (and, in all honesty - their worst fears) were confirmed a mere second later as another voice booms through their (thankfully, locked) bedroom door.

“I’ve had a very stressful week, Gina! What better way to lull myself into a restful sleep than by listening to the sweet lovemaking of America’s Dream Couple?”

“Oh my god, BOYLE!”

Jake’s knees slide against the sheets as he sits up, lending a hand to Amy as she follows suit. He lets out a defeated sigh as she pushes the hem of her shirt downwards again, leaning forward to grip his arm as he calls through the door - “Boundaries, Charles! … Thank you, Gina!”

“It’s a virtual feast for the ears, you guys! Very soothing, to bear audio witness to the actualisation of love beyond a doorway. It’s only weird if we make it weird.”

“It’s weird and creepy and not okay, Boyle!” Squeezing his eyes shut, Jake cringes at the sheer notion of it. Using his best nope voice, he continues. “Good night!”

From their position on the bed, Jake and Amy hear the faint sound of Gina muttering come on, you weirdo; and they wait in careful silence, sharing flustered looks.

The entire squad had all met up at Boyle’s ex-wife’s beach house this weekend, eager to continue the yearly tradition now that Holt and Jake had finally returned from Florida a month prior. After a day of fun and frivolity (the two of them perhaps being a little unsubtle as they openly checked each other out in their swimwear); the happily reunited couple had snuck away as the evening’s drinks began to die down for a little … alone time.

It had been Jake’s version of paradise, with Amy’s skin still feeling warm and sun kissed as his hands roamed her gorgeous body, and with a schedule of Absolutely Nothing planned for the following day, he intended to keep things going well into the early hours.

That is, of course, until Charles (and Gina, but … mainly Charles) had put a total stop to it.

Amy’s hand squeezes Jake’s bicep, casting a wary glance towards the door before softly speaking. “Wow, that was close.”

“Yeah. I never thought I would say this in relation to sex, but … thank god for Gina.”

“I don’t even want to imagine the alternative.”

Shaking his head, Jake swears under his breath. “You know what this is, right?”

“Charles forgetting basic social normalities, and grossly overstepping the line?”

“No. I mean, yes - that, too. But I think the main culprit here is the curse.”

“The curse?”

“The No Nookie Curse. Tell me you’ve noticed it Ames, it can’t just be me.”

Cocking her head to the side, Amy tests out the term. “The No Nookie Curse?”

Scooting closer to his girlfriend, Jake rests his palms against Amy’s thighs with the practiced comfort of someone who knows her body better than his own. “Every single time we tried to initiate sexy times when we’re on holiday, something happens to interrupt us. I’m telling you, we’re cursed.” He grimaces, rolling his eyes. “Which is probably because I didn’t forward that email on to seven of my closest friends back in 2013, but I was busy that day and - ”

“Jake. There’s no way we’re cursed. We had sex on our last holiday … didn’t we?”

“Do you mean that weekend at Dave’s cool beachfront mansion, that was also definitely used for porn films?”

“Oh right, the sex den. Okay, but that’s a one-off. We’ve been on plenty of holidays prior to that.”

“Like the lake house, where we were both so paranoid that Mama Santiago would find out what we were doing that we barely moved each evening?”

“Yeah, when you add it up like that it really doesn’t sound great.”

“I mean … there was lots of sex on the cruise once Doug Judy disappeared. Good sex, too - not that we ever have bad sex. But that was really good, life-affirming, post-declarations-of-love sex, that I’m completely certain we were able to have because we were in international waters, and therefore outside the curses’s jurisdiction.”

Covering Jake’s hands with her own, Amy squeezes gently at the mention of their cruise holiday and leans in for a chaste kiss. “I’m pretty sure curse’s don’t have jurisdictions, babe.”

“How can you be so sure, Ames? All I know is, whenever we’re on holiday and we try to get the good kind of naked, something always comes along and stops us. And it really is a travesty, because you always get this crazy sexy vacation glow about you that just makes me want to cover your body in kisses, and yet somehow it just never seems to happen.”

“Wow, you’ve really thought a lot about this, huh?”

“Lets just say it’s been eating away at me for a while now.”

A lewd joke dies on Amy’s lips as she looks over at her boyfriend, taking in the obvious frustration in his face and realising how seriously he was taking the issue. “Babe, I promise. There is no such thing as a curse.” Planting her hand on the other side of the bed, she lifts herself up, straddling his lap as he moves quickly to tent his legs behind her. “And I am going to prove it to you - right here, right now.”

His hands land on Amy’s waist, holding her steady as she scrapes the edge of her teeth against his curve of his neck, carding her fingers through his shorter hair while her body slowly gyrates on his lap. “God I love you, Ames.”

“Mmm.” Amy takes in a deep breath, relishing the scent of the man she’d missed for so long, sighing when his hands reach down to squeeze her butt. “I love you too, Jake.”

The curse, the previous interruption … pretty much any kind of detail other than his name was disappearing from Jake’s mind with every press of Amy's warm lips against his skin, and he lets out a soft moan, gripping her body tighter as his hands begin to wander to her front.

THUD.

“OW! Rosa!”

“What the hell, Boyle! I know Gina just pulled you away from here!”

Their kissing coming to an abrupt stop, Amy groans, tucking her head into the juncture of Jake’s neck and shoulder. “Oh my god, again?!”

Squeezing his eyes tightly shut, Jake falls back onto the mattress, taking Amy with him and curling both arms around her protectively. They listen as Charles and Rosa squabble in the hallway outside, choosing not to acknowledge the horror of it all this time around. With a defeated grumble, Amy reaches for the comforter, covering them both up before returning to her safe place (i.e., Jake’s shoulder).

“What was that you were saying, about curses not existing?”

(okay, now the universe is just messing with us)

Attempt Number 4: Team Building in Deer River

It’s Jake’s absent-minded humming of his current favourite song that puts a tranquil smile on Amy’s face on their return to the campsite, keeping her grip around his waist tight as the leaves crunch loudly beneath their feet.

Together with the squad, they had spent the day attending a team building event in Deer River - a state forest just far enough from the city that camping overnight had been the safest option.

After a full day of trust falls, puzzle solving and a group scavenger hunt, the couple had strategically erected their tent further away from the rest of their team, hoping to afford a little bit of privacy (and perhaps, a safe enough distance from Charles). Following Jake’s exoneration, and the brand new addition of a shiny ring on Amy’s finger, a night away underneath the stars was exactly what they needed; and once everything was set up the two of them had wandered off into the woods for some time to themselves.

(Aka: totally disappearing into the surrounding trees and starting a makeout session that lasted longer than either had anticipated.)

(So much so, that the sun had almost completely set by the time they pulled away from each other, hastily returning each of their clothing to a suitable state before heading back.)

Intent on proving that the No Nookie Curse was only an amalgamation of Jake’s paranoid thoughts, Amy was determined to get back to the campsite and settle themselves into bed before anyone or anything could interrupt them. Her plan involved waiting out the rest of the squad’s bedtime routines, before demonstrating to the love of her life that vacation sex was not only a) possible, it was also b) definitely happening.

Whistling the last few bars of his song, Jake tightens his arm around Amy’s shoulder as a strong wind runs through the surrounding greenery - the fifth gust since they started walking back, all of them gaining in strength - already regretting not grabbing her scarf from their luggage earlier.

“Just throwing it out there, babe? Still on Team Outdoor Sex. Sex in the woods sounds hella cool. Daytime sex, though. Now that the sun has clocked out, and the wind has clocked in, it’s actually kinda really cold.”

“Daytime outdoor sex does sound cool, if you disregard the bugs that will crawl all over you, the ticks that will suck on your blood and potentially give you Lyme disease … the bears that could come along at any second and attack us …”

“Really ramping up on the sexy talk there, Ames.”

Rolling her eyes, Amy squeezes Jake’s hand, linking their fingers together. “All of these are things that would interrupt us, and while I’m still not saying that curses exist, I do think we should try to avoid any temptation for things to go wrong.”

“You’ve put a binder together about this, haven’t you?”

“Not a binder per se, but I’ve definitely done a decent amount of research.” Stopping just shy of the clearing, Amy turns to face her fiancé, wrapping her arms around his waist. “After all, this is the first time we’ve been able to get away since getting engaged. A night away is just what we need, and I’m not letting a thing stop us from taking full advantage of this opportunity.”

Pushing herself up onto her tippy-toes, Amy pecks a quick kiss onto Jake’s lips, satisfyingly noticing their still swollen state from earlier activities. “Besides, if the wind stays like this, I’m going to need something to help keep me warm, Peralta.”

“I’m sure I could think of something,” he mumbles in reply, leaning in for another chaste kiss and groaning when Amy pulls away, grabbing his hand and leading him back towards the camping ground.

Quickly reverting back to their previous positioning - hand over shoulder, arm wrapped around waist - Amy is giggling at something that Jake has just whispered in her ear when Holt comes into sight, raising her free hand in a silent wave as they near him.

“Peralta. Santiago. I’m thankful to have ended up on the same path as the two of you, as it was exactly your presence that I was seeking.”

Pushing a stray lock of hair out of her eye line, Amy nods. “Jake and I went for a walk and must have lost track of the time, sir.” From beside her, Jake subtly nudges his hip into her own, and she resists the urge to elbow him in the ribs. “What did you need us for? Do you need a hand with your tent?”

Wincing, Holt shakes his head slowly. “Ahh, no. Unfortunately, it would appear that your tent was not as securely fastened to the camping ground as previously suggested.”

Amy feels Jake’s hand slide down her back as it falls away - much like their hopes for the rest of the evening would soon do - and she looks over at her superior, confused. “Captain?”

Turning, Holt points through the clearing towards the river, where in the fading light Amy and Jake can faintly make out the tip of their tent as it floats further away from solid ground.

Oh.

“The trouble with openings such as this, is that the prevailing weather meets very little resistance - and so as the wind has grown stronger we have all had to readjust our footings in regards to our own domiciles. Regrettably, such distractions meant that the rapidly loosening fixtures on your tent went unnoticed by the squad. Your lodging managed to catch the wind and set itself adrift on the water before anybody had a chance to attempt recovery.”

Running a hand down his face, Jake lets out a frustrated groan. “Looks like we’re roughing it in the dirt tonight, babe.”

“Weren’t our sleeping bags in the tent as well?” Amy responds, her face falling as Jake nods slowly.

Holt raises his hand, clearly intending to stop the couple from spiralling into total hopelessness. “Fortunately, Kevin and I recently purchased a two room tent that has the ability to sleep ten people, which provides plenty of room for the two of us and Cheddar. Provided you have an adequate amount of your allergy medication with you, Santiago, we can relocate him to our side of the canvas and offer you shelter for the evening. Perhaps in the morning, we will be able to organise a retrieval of your now absent tent.”

Resting his hand on the small of Amy’s back, Jake nods once again. “There’s a spare packet in our bags, which thankfully are still in the common area.”

“Very well. Follow me, then. Kevin has already begun making provisions for your stay, and I’m sure your earlier activities have left you eager for rest.”

Thankful, but also more than a little bit crushed that their plans had fallen apart so swiftly, Jake and Amy follow their captain through the campsite with fallen shoulders.

Jake waits until Holt has passed through the mesh lining into their other ‘room’ before muttering low enough for only Amy’s ears to pick up - “The No Nookie Curse strikes again.”

And truthfully, Amy cannot come up with a single rebuttal - choosing instead to cup her fiancé’s face, and offer a soft kiss in commiseration. Perhaps curses were real, after all.

(seriously, how do those guys do it?)

Attempt Number 5: Romance on the beach

“I’m telling you, Ames. There has to be a secret propellor or something under there. There just has to be. I literally cannot think of any other way.”

Her shoulders shaking from all the laughter, Amy reaches out to rest her arms on either side of her husband’s neck and breaks her chuckle for a kiss. “I know, babe. You’re totally right.”

“I just … how else do they do it?”

Shaking her head, Amy breaks out into another round of laughter, keeping her grip tight so that Jake knows it isn’t directed at him (but rather, the situation at hand).

The Hamptons was their address for the next three days, the location of choice for Tony and his partner Luella’s upcoming wedding. In true Peraltiago Vacation style, emergency renovations to the widespread home that all Santiago siblings were staying in had meant that they were short one room, and Jake and Amy had been the lucky couple to be allocated the sofa bed in the living room as their place of rest.

(A fact that, once broken to them, had led to Jake coughing the word Cursed! under his breath, and in all honesty - this time Amy knew he was absolutely right.)

Fresh from their honeymoon (which, once their captain had left them in peace, had involved a lot of sex … amazingly mind-blowing, sometimes costumed sex - which only served to prove that the international waters clause of the curse still held strong), both of them had entered holiday mode with a renewed vigour to finally set things straight.

Having a sunken living room, with a wraparound balcony looking down at them from above for a bedroom, led to Jake thinking creatively - pulling Amy towards the beach on the first evening, lifting her into his arms and running both of them straight into the ocean.

It was the stuff of fantasies: floating in the water with the one you heart adored, holding onto each other tightly as you make love, the waves lapping around you and the world disappearing for just a little while. The kind of scene that every person has seen in a movie, or read in a book, and one that the newlyweds had actually intended to try on their honeymoon before realising that the beaches surrounding their hotel were rarely secluded enough for such activities.

The reality, however, was vastly different - with the two quickly realising that the art of treading water, while clinging to each other and trying desperately not to drown, did not a sexy tryst make.

It was mid-kiss that Jake finally broke away, sputtering out “Are the guys in all the movies secretly dolphins or something?”, all the while pushing frantic strokes through the water in an effort to stay afloat; causing Amy to burst into laughter - tears streaking down your face, ribs sore from all the shaking kind of laughter - clinging to her husband like a koala as he slowly walked them back towards the shore.

Joining Amy in her mirth, Jake leads her over to the towels that he’d dumped on the sand earlier, spreading them out haphazardly and pulling his wife down to meet him. “Okay, so now we know. Sex in the water = not as easy as it looks.”

Thankful to have chosen a dress for their intended walk on the beach, Amy lifts the wet fabric from her thigh, squeezing out a small fountain of water as she gives Jake a sympathetic look. “I’m sorry, babe. It was definitely worth a shot - and bonus points for spontaneity. Very hot.”

Jake’s hand comes to rest on her bared thigh, stroking her skin gently before leaning in for a kiss. “It’s easy to find reasons for spontaneous sex, when you have a wife as hot as I do.”

“Mmm,” Amy moans into his mouth, abandoning the skirt and letting it fall back down with a splat. The sand beneath the towel shifts as she digs her knees in; scrambling closer to Jake to deepen the kiss, knowing all too well that her horniness level was still sitting low on simmer.

She breaks the kiss to nibble on Jake’s earlobe as his hand slides further up the dress, fingertips sliding over her butt, and Amy climbs onto his lap, lifting her hips slightly in silent invitation. Her underwear slides down a moment later, lifting her knees and then her ankles until they’re being tucked into Jake’s pocket, and she takes advantage of the freedom by grinding down on his growing erection.

Despite the cool sea water still dripping down her skin, Jake’s hands feel warm as he moves to caress her once more, palm digging into her derriere as he pulls her in for a heavy kiss, and suddenly Amy thinks she’s beginning to understand all the reasons why ‘sex on the beach’ is such a popular term.

Jake’s fingers caress her folds shortly after, dipping one finger in before following with another, and it's everything Amy has been craving for, her husband’s lips leaving a trail of kisses along her jawline while she writhes on his lap.

It’s only as his hand pulls away, and her hips continue to sway closer to Jake’s body, that a whole other sensation begins to form. Yanking her mouth away from the hickey she’d been creating on Jake’s neck, Amy presses a hand to his chest and whispers - “Jake! The sand.”

“Mmm, yeah. All soft and warm, it’s kinda hot.”

Shaking her head, Amy rears back further, only to let out a sharp cry. “No, Jake! I think the sand has gotten into … places.”

He blinks, shaking himself out of his makeout stupor. “Wait. Ames, are you okay?”

“My vagina is on fire, babe.”

Scrambling upwards, Jake reaches out to help Amy stand, wincing at her obvious discomfort. “Do you want to go back into the water?”

Amy shakes her head quickly. “I need a shower, pronto. Oh god, I can feel all the little grains scraping.”

“Oh no, it would have been on my hands, and then I … I’m so sorry, Ames.” Turning, Jake presents his back to her, bending lower. “Here, jump up and I’ll carry you back to the house and straight into the shower. I’m so sorry, babe."

His hands dig into her lower thigh as Amy rests her upper body against her husband’s back, pressing her forehead into his shoulder blade and letting out a groan. “Okay universe, we get it! The No Nookie curse is real!”

“It’s real and it sucks!” Jake’s voice comes out in a huff as he rushes through the sand, grateful that they hadn’t strayed too far from the house.

“Ugh, why have people named a drink after this?!”

Part 2:

(and the 1 time they’re successful)

(I'm definitely seeing stars)

Jake’s grip on his wife’s hand holds strong as he leads her up to the highest point of the house, pausing at the base of the final set of stairs and gesturing for her to take the lead. Amy gives him a curious look as she passes him, clearly intrigued, and he whispers a compliment directed at her butt (always a favourite) as they both begin their ascent.

Holt and Kevin’s vow renewal ceremony was (finally!) taking place this coming weekend, and the squad - plus partners and children alike - had all convened earlier today at their allocated accommodation in the Berkshires.

The house - like many in the surrounding neighbourhood - was larger than the precinct and all of their homes combined; stretching out into various wings and drawing the eye upward with it’s high ceilings and exposed stonework. This time, Jake and Amy had gone to great lengths to ensure they were allocated their own room towards the opposite end of the home, large enough to accommodate a now eight months old Mac while also ensuring a modicum of privacy - a concept dearly treasured, after so many disastrous attempts.

Exhausted after a full day of sticking to a rigid schedule of rehearsals and preparations alike, Jake had waited until they’d been able to lull their son to sleep in his travel cot before luring Amy into the hallway with the promise of a surprise; and he’s not entirely sure if it his proposal to her several years ago that finally got Amy on board with his surprises, or if it was just indicative of the trust he’d been able to earn - but either way, she follows eagerly with an excited grin.

He hears the excited gasp that escapes her mouth as the door at the top swings open, the full extent of his plan coming to fruition as Amy moves further into the landing and turns to him with eyes that sparkled. “Jake … this is amazing!”

Tucking both hands into his pockets, Jake puts on his best humble brag face as he joins his wife in the centre of the alcove. “So I did a little research on this place before we got here, and as it turns out the owner/builder was a massive fan of stargazing.” Nodding towards the low set walls that wrapped around the base, he turns to Amy with a proud grin. “They’d built this landing solely for that purpose. And tonight, it is our little hideaway.”

Amy’s eyes soften as she takes in the surrounding tea light candles, the blow-up mattress covered in blankets and pillows in the middle of it all, and the bottle of wine still chilling in a bucket of ice to the side. “Wow, babe. You really pulled out all the stops on this one.”

“One could say .. a whole binders worth of preparation.”

Her head swivels towards him, and he grins triumphantly. “You made a binder for this?”

“You haven’t even heard the best part. The door we just went through is the only way in or out, and I have the key right here in my pocket. Rosa has stepped in to keep an eye on Mac, and has promised that she will only call if it’s an emergency. She also seems to have figured out what we are doing up here, and appears to be equal parts impressed and disgusted.”

Amy nods, moving closer and resting her hands on either side of Jake’s neck.

“Holt and Kevin are off with Laverne, Charles and Genevieve have taken Nikolaj camping half an hour away, and Terry and Sharon are exhausted from chasing after their kids all day. Hitchcock and Scully had both an apple pie and a cake after dinner, so I can only assume that they’ve slipped into some sort of post-sugar high coma.” Leaning in to press a soft kiss at the edge of Amy’s lips, Jake pulls away with a grin. “What I’m saying, my darling, is that there is almost no chance of us getting interrupted.”

Moving closer still, Amy wraps both arms around Jake’s neck, carding her fingers through his slightly overgrown curls as she draws him in for a heart-pounding kiss. “Looks like we’re kicking a certain curse’s butt tonight.”

Nodding, Jake initiates another kiss, waiting until he feels Amy melt completely in his arms before grazing his lips along the edge of her cheek, peppering tiny kisses in their wake. “While I am definitely looking forward to breaking the curse, this is mainly just me wanting you to feel good, babe.”

“Mmm. I’d say you’re on the right track.”

His teeth scrape lightly against her earlobe as he lets out a soft laugh, pulling their bodies closer together. “You work so hard, Ames .. and you do so much for Mac and I. You deserve to have a holiday, and really relax.” Continuing the path paved earlier, Jake reaches the juncture of her neck and swipes his tongue against her warm skin. “Let me make you feel good, babe.”

Amy lets out a moan, Jake’s hands wandering down the front of her jeans, cupping her centre through the fabric and rubbing with a slow rhythm; and he pulls away with a sly grin.

“There is one tiny detail that we need to take into consideration, actually.” Raising one hand, Jake gestures towards the open design of the landing. “Out here it’s just you, me and the stars … and sound travels like crazy.” He drops a tender kiss to her lips, leaving the intimation of both his and hers tendency to get a little loud during sex unspoken. “In fact, you could even say it’s - ” leaning in, he flips into his Best Sexy Tone - “omnidirectional.”

“Oh, mama …”

“We’re going to have to try really hard to stay quiet, babe.” Tightening his grip around her waist, Jake lowers his body slightly and Amy picks up on the queue, wrapping her legs around her husband as he moves them towards the blankets. He lowers her carefully, shaking his head in wonder as she gazes back up at him: looking like some kind of heavenly creation amongst the mixture of candlelight and stars. “I’m so in love with you, Amy Santiago.”

A soft blush creeps onto her cheeks, and Amy crooks her finger in a silent request for her husband’s presence, sinking her teeth into her lower lip as he covers her body with his own. “I love you too, Jake.”

Her hips tilt marginally upwards, rubbing her body against the fabric of Jake’s own jeans as she reaches for his fly, making quick work of the barriers as her hand slides inside to grip his rapidly growing erection. Quick to follow suit, Jake pulls away from their embrace only to tug both his and Amy’s jeans off completely, casting both of their tops and underwear aside haphazardly and mentally congratulating his earlier decision to use battery-powered candles over real ones. Setting fire to the highest point of a house is a great way to kill a mood - and ruin a wedding - and there wasn’t a single way that he was going to let the two of them be interrupted tonight.

His erection rubs against Amy’s naked thigh as he covers her body once again, sweeping his hand over her curves as his hand heads directly to her centre. He covers her mouth with his own while his fingers begin to explore, taking in the moisture they find and gently massaging just the way Amy loves. Her hips sway beneath Jake’s torso, working with his deft touch as her hand moves to circle his cock, squeezing and pumping slowly … a familiar move that only made Jake last a full two minutes the last time she tried it.

The two of them are straight-up moaning by now, rotating between messy kisses and heated breaths against shoulders and necks as they both work each other up with expert precision. Contorting his back, Jake moves to sink his teeth into the edge of Amy’s right breast, desperate for a taste of her arousal but knowing all too well that if he moves too far away from her mouth, his wife will begin to really cry out, and the risk of exposure was just too great.

Instead, he slides back up to press his lips against hers, the desire obvious as his bare crotch ruts against her own. Amy’s responding moan is stuttered, her attempts to keep everything quiet obvious, and he grins.

“You’re doing so well at staying quiet, Ames … god you’re so sexy.” Tongue sweeping against hers, absorbing the moans that were gaining in intensity, Jake’s thumb rubs persistently at her clit, matching the tempo of her rotating wrist as they push each other closer and closer to the edge.

“Oh god Jake … fuck me. Fuck me now, fuck me hard.”

Looping his elbow under one of her knees, Jake moves into position and enters Amy in a single thrust, feeling momentarily breathless as the warmth of her surrounds him completely. Her other leg swings around to rest on his butt, holding him close as he pulls out and slams back in again, and truly, this has to be the closest thing to heaven.

Pressing one hand into the base of the landing, Jake pushes down for leverage as he returns his right hand to Amy’s clit - resuming the circled patterns he’d initiated earlier - and Amy sinks her teeth into Jake’s shoulder as she comes with a muffled shout. The feeling of her walls pulsing around his cock makes him descend into a state of almost madness, increasing the intensity of his thrusts until it’s all just pure instinct, chasing the euphoric high but nowhere near ready for any of this to end.

Slipping her other leg from his grip, Amy digs her fingers into Jake’s shoulders as she rolls him onto his back, keeping their hips joined as much as possible to avoid any chance of disruption. Her body is slick with sweat as she rises above him, planting her hands on his chest and looking down at her husband with a flushed and satisfied grin, rising and falling as she takes over Jake’s steady pace.

“This is the best idea you’ve ever had,” she whispers, leaning down to circle her tongue over his nipples, sucking a love bite into his pec as she goes. “Fuck, this feels so good.” Rising again, Amy leans back until her hair is trailing down her spine, and the sight in front of him nearly pushes Jake over the edge completely.

She looked so incredible like this, bare and open and clearly just letting her body take over as she swivels her hips into his thrusts, his cock glistening with her arousal as she slides up and down. Jake has known, for a long time now, that there is nobody in the world that could ever be as beautiful as Amy Santiago, and tonight only serves to solidify his belief.

There’s a bit more of a curve to her skin now, a soft swell to her belly that stands as proof of the their amazing son; and he knows that at times she feels self-conscious of the changes she cannot control, but he fell in love with Amy for a million reasons, and her body was only one of them. His body has changed as well, after all; and probably will again over the course of the next fifty years, and there is nothing that will ever change the way they feel about each other.

He tents his legs to a low degree behind her, offering support as his hands begin to cover every expanse of her body, thumbing the inverted arch of her breasts with reverence as they bounce against their joint movements. Jake's not sure if he’ll ever win the lottery, but it’s clear that he’s already reached the jackpot right here in this moment, watching Amy hurtle ever closer to another orgasm.

It’s the faltered breaths and the occasional stilling of her hips that tells Jake that his wife is nearly there, and with gentle coaxing she falls forward again, mashing her lips against his as their chests press together. Knowing that this is an angle that both of them enjoy, Jake digs his fingers into Amy’s butt as he lifts his hips off the ground, hammering into Amy as the steady motion presses her clit against his pelvis, whispering her name over and over as her fingers grip his hair by the roots. Her body begins to shake, followed by a whisper of babe I’m close, and Jake pushes his body a degree or two higher.

There’s a sharp sting against his skin as Amy comes, her mouth clamped over the edge of his shoulder as the need to scream is just too powerful, the vibrations of her moans reverberating into his intoxicated mind. The sheer mixture of pleasure and pain is all Jake needs to let go completely, pouring himself inside his wife as calls out her name without suppression, and Amy’s hand clamps quickly over his mouth before the sound of his climax can travel too far.

It takes a long while for either Jake or Amy to be able to speak, their bodies a jumble mess as they struggle to catch their breath, the silence only broken as Amy cranes her neck back towards the sky and gasps - “Wow, you really can see so many stars from here!”

From beside her Jake nods, still partially in a state of seeing stars of his own as his heart begins to return to a normal pace. He lets out a gradual sigh as Amy shifts closer to him, curling her arm around his waist and tucking her head into his shoulder.

Wrapping his left arm around her naked body (he’s not sure there’ll ever be a time when he will ever have enough of it), Jake raises his right hand for a high five. “We did it, Ames. We broke the curse.”

Amy’s responding laugh is loud, and probably carried over the grounds, but Jake doesn’t care at all anymore, and she meets his hand with a triumphant slap. “Yeah we did! Suck it, universe!”

His grip grows tighter, seizing the blanket with the tips of his fingers and sliding it over their skin before his wife has a chance to feel the coolness of the night’s sky. He knows that they should probably head downstairs soon, sneak back into their bedroom and relieve Aunty Roro of her babysitting duties, but the afterglow of this moment feels too sweet to give away - Mac has been sleeping through the night for a solid two months now, and he knows that if anything had gone wrong they’d have known well before now.

Amy’s lips ghost against his bicep as she lets her eyelids flutter close for a moment (a post-sex power nap often needed, rarely lasting longer than thirty minutes), and Jake smiles at the sight, letting her nestle in to his embrace as he gazes through the glass ceiling above them to watch the stars.

He already knows that he won’t be able to find anything brighter than their future up there in the darkness, but for now, he’s content to watch the world pass them by for just a little bit longer.

#I hope you like this!#best of both worlds with the smut and fluff again #b99fandomevents #b99 summer 2020 fic exchange #my writing #Peraltiago smut #Peraltiago fluff #b99fic #b99 fic

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johnny-and-dora · 4 years

Text

sunny one so true, i love you

as a long, hot summer draws to a close, jake is determined to make sure mac has the best first beach trip a toddler has ever experienced. (written for @undead-thot-hours as part of the b99 summer 2020 fic exchange, i hope you like it!) @b99fandomevents

read on ao3 -

Ideally, living in Brooklyn in the middle of the summer would be perfect. There’d be some kind of ice coffee river Willy Wonka stylez that Jake could wade into, functioning air conditioning on demand and plenty of opportunities for him to up his sunglasses game and practise some cool new moves to impress the squad.

In reality, it costs like $12 for one tiny cup of iced coffee, and the air conditioning at the precinct is constantly on the fritz. He can’t even practise any cool sunglasses moves because one of Mac’s current favourite pastimes is taking either of his parent’s eyewear and lovingly slobbering all over it. It’s kind of a bummer - but also, like everything his son does, extremely cute, so Jake doesn’t really mind. The great picture he got of Mac wearing his sunglasses makes it worth it.

It’s been a long, long summer filled with paperwork and overtime instead of getting to hang out with his beautiful family all the time, which is the real bummer. So, when Amy suggested they take advantage of their shared Sunday off to take Mac to Brighton Beach for the first time, he’d responded with trademark enthusiasm.

Which was then later followed by abject panic, because Jake kinda sorta forgot that he’s not the beaches biggest fan.

It’s not like he’s some kind of beach hater, because that’s like hating summer or holidays or fun and Jake loves all of those things. It’s just that his lasting childhood memories of the beach are less than rosy. They mostly include him getting super sunburnt, dropping his ice-cream in the sand, or getting buried alive by Gina. None of them make him feel particularly good, and he doesn’t particularly want to pass that not-good feeling down to his son by ruining Mac’s first beach experience.

So many things could go wrong. What if a seagull steals his food, or his ball gets lost at sea? What if his favourite toy gets all sandy and ruined? What if a seagull steals him, and Jake’s powerless to do anything but watch?

To cut a long week of worrying about increasingly improbable scenarios short, this beach trip has to go well. In fact, Jake’s general brain weirdness and a strong desire to be a good dad means this needs to be the best beach trip a toddler has ever experienced in the history of beach trips. It’s the least he can do for Mac.

So, he invites Charles and Nikolaj along and buys Mac a cute little bucket and spade and the four of them build a really epic sandcastle while Amy gets a rare chance to peacefully catch up on some reading. They paddle in the sea a little, Mac clinging to Jake the whole time because the water’s so cold, and Jake snaps a photo of the three of them with ice cream that is definitely lockscreen worthy. Charles even takes the kids for a bit so Jake and Amy can have some precious alone time soaking in the sun.

It may not be perfect – Mac gets very upset when he can’t see any dolphins (which Jake would be disappointed by too, to be honest) and somehow he gets sand absolutely everywhere which he’s definitely going to traipse back into the apartment. But he seems happy, and Amy is happy, and that means that Jake is happy too.

“Did you have fun today, Mac?” Amy asks, wrapping him up tight in his beach towel and trying to brush some of the sand out of his hair. Their little boy nods enthusiastically, his curls bouncing everywhere as he climbs up on to Jake’s lap.

“This is the best day ever!” He says, slightly muffled as he sticks his thumb in his mouth, and Jake’s heart swells. Mission accomplished. He looks to Amy, who’s hair is even shiner than usual as she’s bathed in sunlight, her pretty sundress flapping around her legs. She gets more and more beautiful every single day.

“Hey, Ames, you look like a mermaid.” He says, grinning fondly at his wife. He gently pokes Mac to get his attention. “Doesn’t mommy look like a beautiful mermaid, Mac? Like she could be queen of the seahorses or something cool like that.”

“I know about seahorses!” Mac pipes up, which wasn’t exactly what he was going for but endearing, nonetheless. Camilla and Victor gifted him a book about animals for Christmas last year and he’s been parroting random trivia from it for months, as if they needed more proof that he’s half-Santiago. “They live in the sea and they’re not even horses, they’re fish.” He says matter-of-factly, wriggling in Jake’s lap.

“That’s right, baby.” Amy says warmly, gently stroking his curls and grinning at Jake when their eyes meet. Their kid is going to be the most insufferable know-it-all in his class, and they’re already so proud of him.

“Hey bud, did you see any seahorses in the sea?” Jake asks (He knows it’s unlikely, but it would be super awesome). Mac shakes his head. His face falls for a second and Jake worries that he’s going to have to go on some impossible heroic seahorse quest before his eyes light up again.

“Uncle Charles and Niko caught a crab though! It was all pinchy and angry!”

“Cool, like Sebastian?” Mac nods fervently and Jake grins, humming a few notes of ‘Under The Sea’. He makes a mental note to put The Little Mermaid on as soon as they get home – it’s on theme, has a great soundtrack and won’t make any of them cry too hard, which is a win in Jake’s book.

Mac is squirming in his lap again, so Jake lets him down. It warms his heart watching his son totter about on the sand wrapped in an R2-D2 beach towel, singing ‘Under The Sea’ to himself (except really, he’s just babbling the chorus over and over again). God, he loves this kid. His dad Spidey-senses kick in when Mac bends down to pick up a pebble, though, knowing it’s probably going directly into his mouth, so he racks his brain for cool seahorse facts to try and distract him.

“Hey Mac, did you know that it’s actually the daddy seahorses that carry the babies around in their tummies?”

“No way!” Mac says, the pebble instantly forgotten, and Jake knows he will never get tired of watching his son learn new things about the world every single day.

“Uh-huh.” Jake nods, and for effect, grabs a nearby beachball and stuffs it under his T-shirt while Mac laughs. “What do you think, little man? Would I make a good seahorse?”

Mac shakes his head, grinning toothily. “That’s silly, daddy.”

Jake smiles proudly – he may be pretty proud of his many accomplishments as a highly decorated detective, but nothing makes him feel prouder than when he makes the most important, treasured people in his life laugh. “Yeah? Well, I am pretty silly. That’s like, the thing I’m totally best at and have won a lot of silly awards for.”

“And blanket forts! And storytime! You’re the best daddy!” Mac says, running up to present the pebble to him, and Jake gets a little misty. He can see Charles also getting misty out of the corner of his eye, but that’s actually pretty toned down by his standards. He accepts the pebble and bends down to pick Mac up and spin him around, the two of them laughing, and knows he has nothing to be worried about. Not even the world’s biggest seagull could swoop in and ruin this day.

Jake may be a just a little sunburnt, and his grand dreams of an iced coffee river may be unfortunately impossible to fulfil. But he’s here, with his gorgeous, amazing wife and their equally amazing son, and has to admit the beach isn’t so bad. As long as he has his family beside him, any summer in Brooklyn seems pretty much perfect.

#b99 summer 2020 fic exchange #b99fandomevents #b99 #b99 fic #jake x amy #peraltiago #my writing #shut up sian

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loudamy · 4 years

Text

& i’m counting every piece of my heart

5 snapshots of summer as lived by jake & amy: i. honeymoon nights (NSFW) ii. mac's first birthday iii. doug judy's wedding iv. early relationship v. family saturdays

read on ao3

for @amydancepants-peralta as part of the @b99fandomevents summer 2020 fic exchange; i hope you like it renee!<3 also thank u to alys @397bartonstreet for putting the image of mac trying a lime in my head ily

i. oh, she tastes like sunlight

Married life with Jake proves to be love in every flavour, Amy mulls, entwined around him in a post-sex stupor. They’ve made the most out of their time - and their room - since Holt finally let them be, and the prospect of an entire week, just she and Jake, stretches gloriously in front of her.

Now though, she couldn’t be more satisfied with the present: milky evening hues, satin sheets, and of course, Jake sex hair. Fluffy, dishevelled, falling languidly atop his forehead until she rakes it back with tired fingers.

His eyes are at half-mast, shoulder draped around her, dopey on sun and wine. He’s a beautiful mess, and she’s infinitely alight with that tiny thrill, that she’s done that to him, that nobody else can undo him like she can.

‘Hey, remember that incredible time last Christmas Eve, when you got home super-horny because you came in under budget for all your gifts?’ Jake ponders into the silence.

Amy huffs a laugh between breaths. ‘I remember your stupid joke that my clothes were half-off.’ She doesn’t need to turn to him to know that Jake is grinning reminiscently. He’d been so proud of that joke he barely noticed what Amy was doing until he heard his shirt rip.

‘Oh yeah. That was awesome.’ Jake snorts, then blinks, flopping onto his side. ‘Well, this was way better than that.’

‘So…married sex, better than engaged sex and reunion sex? Or are they just not comparable?’ Amy wonders, to her husband’s resulting laughter.

‘All of our sex is my favourite.’ Jake says sleepily, but then, sensing she’s not entirely satisfied with this answer, adds ‘but married sex is doper than dope.’

‘Well, this is technically consummation sex.’ Amy props herself onto his chest and smiles contemplatively.

‘Ooh, babe, you know I love it when you get technical.’ he teases, and she laughs, but only for a second because she’s been rocking gently against his leg for the past minute or so and his body has already taken notice.

Jake pins her wrist against the sheets, clumsily interlocking their fingers before bringing his mouth down to slant over hers. Each kiss is slow, as though infused with love, and yet the new weight of her rings against his fingers is viscerally new.

With her free hand she grips his cock and squeezes until his breath comes out in stutters and he writhes a little on top of her, rutting against her leg in search of more friction.

‘Amy-’ his voice is immediately rough, not a trace of the sleepy satiety from a few moments ago. They’re not even halfway through the sex tab in her binder and he doesn’t know how he’ll ever get to the end, he’s already so undone. (He just wants all of it, all of her).

She reaches for the wig, but Jake grabs her wrist and artfully rolls them so he’s on top, settling heavily between her thighs.

‘You as a hotter Holly Gennaro was like all of my fantasies in one. But right now, I want to have hot consummation sex with my wife.’

Amy looks back at him, gaze so heady, it’s dizzying to be here in this room with this woman, his best friend, who he’s married and her hand is trailing his dick and pumping until he breathes in short, sharp bursts.

‘Uh-uh. Wanna love you first.’ he captures her hand and kisses the ring, before his head dips lower, sucking mildly on her clavicle. Butterfly marks, just between the two of them.

‘Every day I’m thankful for your boobs.’ Jake says, thrilled when Amy laughs breathlessly. At first his touch is idle, the rough underside of his thumb skirting her ribcage, but then he presses his mouth to her breast and his tongue skims the cool skin. The sensation has her careening back to sobriety with a moan.

Jake takes his time, working her up, murmuring interchangeably adoring and dirty things in her ear. It’s quintessential Jake; loving and affectionate in how he handles her, even when he’s hurtling her closer and closer to release.

‘God, I love you,’ he breathes into the warmth, laying fluttering kisses all the way down to her abdomen, where he starts murmuring revelry against her thigh.

His fingers are newly calloused from sensual pottery and they feel so good curling inside of her. His movements are slick, and he has that hyper-focused gleam in his eyes that she could almost come from alone, teeth bared to graze against her skin as she moans.

He doesn’t need to ask what she likes because he knows, just as he knows every alcove of her body, but he lets her guide him through it anyway. ‘Yeah, you like that…’

‘Jake, I need you to-’ Amy’s frustrated, like when she’s locked in that inscrutable moment before solving a case, and he loves it, loves her riled and unravelled and whining at his doing.

‘Is that what you want?’ he murmurs into the soft apex of her legs.

‘Jake-’ he knows from her strangled voice and the way she’s trembling at his fingertips that she’s close and it tears at him a little.

‘I don’t need to be inside you to make you feel good.’ Jake says, unable to resist teasing her even when they’re in the most intimate of situations, but he rewards her with a third finger, flicking her clit between them.

‘Just - don’t stop that.’ Amy instructs him, which of course was his goal all along.

He continues to caress her inner thighs, and then, impatient, she’s gripping his hair and leading him to where she wants him most. He’s only happy to oblige, wrapping his tongue around her clit which has Amy in beautiful turmoil.

She curves into his touch, tugging his hair as he steadily licks and circles her clit with his middle and index fingers, rapid strokes in tandem with her soft whimpering.

It only takes another minute of his deliberate ministrations until he suddenly increases the pressure and she’s gasping, coming on his tongue- ‘Jake, right there, fuck!’ - and then he’s leaning over to kiss her through the comedown.

‘You look so pretty when you come, honey.’ Jake says as he resurfaces next to her, loving how he can still make her blush, revelling in it. He flops onto his back and chuckles, raspy from exertion. ‘Especially when you scream my name like that.’

‘Jake!’ Amy huffs, without any real bite.

‘I made sure we got a corner room, we’re good.’ says Jake, with utterly fake nonchalance. Any excuse to impress Amy with organisation: he’ll take it.

‘You did?’ it’s hard to sound incredulous when he’s just made her come that hard, but this is a man who lived without renters’ insurance for most of his adult life.

‘Has to be good enough for my wife.’

‘The best husband,’ she tells him, and means it, but he doesn’t have much time to dwell because she’s reaching for him again, finding him hot and hard and judging by the noises he’s making, wanting. He bites his lip in anticipation but she worries it between her teeth without mercy, a move so familiarly Amy that his heart is clenching in a different way.

Her strokes are lazy at first - she likes to tease him, and he loves her for it - but one hand slyly stops as she shifts to straddle his lower thigh.

Amy presses her right hand just above his heart to steady herself and instantly he covers it with his own, threading their fingers together. ‘Love you,’ she says, and then the silk of her hair is teasing his thighs and she’s tracing her sentiment on the head of his dick.

It’s the sweetest kind of payback. Amy swipes her tongue experimentally down his shaft and Jake’s mouth falls open in pleasure. Her touch is far from unfamiliar but still his blood simmers underneath it, pulsing against each fingertip.

Sometimes she lets him dictate the rhythm, but right now, it’s Amy in control, and Jake lets her know that he’s ‘absolutely there for it’. Amy takes him deeper into her mouth, her hands working him at the base while she begins to suck, and he’s devoid of any thought but the sensation of her dropping kisses on the head of his cock.

He’s sweating and swearing and fumbling hands in her hair, tightening a stray hand momentarily around her neck because that always elicits a favourable reaction. He’s completely wrecked by her, for her.

‘Amy, baby-’ he’s barely coherent, eyes screwed tightly closed, but it doesn’t matter, Amy can’t talk. Her lips are swollen around his dick and her hands are roving his length with abandon and he’s uttering her praises over and over, entire body convulsing in pleasure.

‘Ames-’ he manages, and she stops, slides him out of her mouth, querying. Other times, he’d happily let her suck him off to completion, but not tonight. Jake tilts her head up, meets her in a hard kiss, pulls her back down with him.

‘Don’t wanna come without seeing your face.’ Jake tells her, and Amy lets him roll them so he’s on top. He’s trapped against her leg and twitching and he knows he can’t hold out much longer.

‘I want to be close to you like this.’ he continues: she shudders against him, only able to mumble ‘Jake, please…’

He blinks back at her and she nods, surging upwards for a fleeting kiss. Finally, finally, he takes himself in hand and tantalisingly pushes into her; both of them keening at the sensation.

‘Want to fall asleep next to you every night for the rest of my life,’ Jake breathes as he starts to thrust, sliding a finger down balmy skin till he reaches her clit. Amy arches her back to a low groan, her foot feverishly rubbing against his leg.

She’s flushed and beautiful underneath him; it’s an image that never fails to give him pause, one that burns in his mind’s eye at any given time.

‘Gonna…watch you put on that captain’s uniform every morning and rip it off you every night.’ he’s moving inside her slowly, with every inch of the love he has for her, willing it into every word.

‘Rip?’ Amy tenses. Jake laughs wryly into her neck, layering kiss after kiss at the sensitive nape. So consistent. ‘Not the buttons, babe. Always protect the buttons.’ he soothes.

‘Jake, please…’ she whines. ‘Babe, I love the romantic sex but right now I just want you to fuck me.’

Jake’s never let her down before and he doesn’t now: he slams into her, thumb buried in her hip-bone, hands enclosed around her waist. Amy raises one shaky hand behind her to the headboard to steady herself as she tilts into him and the thrill of being at his control.

‘I want all of it…’

She loves that voice, debauched, barely audible over the dull thudding of the headboard and their haggard breathing. It’s Jake at his most vulnerable, a phenomenon she knows is hers and hers alone.

She lifts a weak leg to his shoulder and Jake’s eyes, blown wide and liquid, darken in understanding as he catches the thigh and holds it in place as Amy grasps his shoulder and squeezes. The change in angle makes them both groan, deep and guttural.

He wraps his hand around her hair and softly tucks it behind her head. The movement is tender and deliberate, such a contradiction to the way he’s roughly pounding into her. Jake knows she hates her hair getting caught during sex, and it’s these subtle markings of love that she’ll always hold onto.

There’s a sudden sprig of clarity in the haze, that she’s really getting railed by her husband on their honeymoon and she’s probably going to have to call and bump up their dinner reservations, oh, and said husband really researched how to roleplay as a nineteenth century librarian just to make her happy.

She’s hurtled back to reality by Jake’s fingers thickly bruising her thighs every time he thrusts up to meet her. They’re both close, she can feel it, and when he scrapes a knuckle against her clit like that it’s over: she comes, comes hard, with a gasp.

Jake follows seconds after, coming hard with a shout to one final thrust until he relaxes into her, shoulder muscles softening under her fingers. ‘Consummation sex, totally noice,’ he says breathily, to which they both laugh.

Ever the sloth and determined to be held after sex, Jake takes her through the aftershocks, his head and arms heavy on her chest.

‘Don’t get me wrong, this room is amazing. But I miss our sheets.’ Amy says, wriggling closer into his space. ‘And my weighted blanket.’

‘I’m your weighted blanket.’ Jake complains, edging limbs across her body to demonstrate.

‘Hmm, hold me then.’

Jake doesn’t argue, just accepts her into his arms with his nose pressed to her hair, mussed from his fingers and yet no less perfect. They might be miles away from their little Brooklyn apartment, but Amy somehow makes everywhere feel like home.

ii. beautiful boy, darling boy

It’s a wonder to Jake that as summer draws to a close, his son could be turning a whole year old when it feels like yesterday he was circling the edge of a tiny foot against Amy’s belly and speculating if it was normal to love someone that much already. Now he’s watching his son hauling his baby walker around their bedroom and laughing every time he trips. (Jake’s starting to think Mac is tripping on purpose to get extra cuddles from Amy. He can’t blame him).

‘Another year, another host of great stuff to introduce him to. Do you think he’s too young for the trampoline park?’

‘Maybe just a bit.’ Amy kisses the side of his mouth and resumes shuffling through party invitation samples. They want to keep his birthday small but special; just a handful of family and friends at their apartment. This, according to Amy, is no reason to skimp on the details.

‘Hey, Mac, c’mere.’ Jake calls, and Mac at once abandons his walker and toddles straight over to Jake, arms outstretched for a hug or a piggy-back or maybe a rendition of their new favourite game which involves Jake tipping Mac upside down and dangling him down his back and both of them laughing uproariously.

‘Do you know what next week is?’ Jake says, tickling Mac with his nose, a trick their son loves.

‘Twos-day?’ Mac guesses. Amy beams, obviously pleased that the days-of-the-week interactive DVD she got him is a hit.

‘Yes, Tuesday is next week.’ says Jake, bouncing Mac on his knee now. ‘But there’s something extra-special happening too.’

‘Your birthday, baby.’ says Amy brightly, holding up a deflated ninja turtles balloon; Mac’s eyes light up (‘Leo!’) and he starts jumping up and down on Jake.

‘Birfday?’

‘A whole day, just about you.’ Jake says. ‘Your day.’

‘My day?’ Mac repeats, processing this with great diligence.

‘Is there anything you want?’ Amy sets aside her invitations and splays her legs to meet Jake’s, so Mac is trapped in a diamond between them.

As it turns out, there’s only one thing he really wants - a fireman’s hat. ‘As long as Boone never finds out’ is Jake’s philosophy, Amy reasons that ‘anything to stop him stealing my bras to use for his turtles costume’ can’t be a bad thing.

On the way home from their present-shopping spree - both Jake and Amy refuse to feel guilty for spoiling Mac, given it is his very first birthday and only other things he asked for were ‘more cuddles from mommy and daddy’ and ‘chocolate milk’ - they go card-shopping.

Jake, usually not so discerning over these things, pores over the birthday card selection for longer than he takes to choose his sneakers in the morning. ‘It has to be perfect. I want him to remember this day in ten years and think he had the coolest parents ever.’

‘He already thinks that.’ Amy rests her chin on his shoulder and gives his shoulder a bracing squeeze. ‘Jake, he loves you so much. All he wants is to be like you.’

‘Jungle Book, nailed it.’ Jake says softly, but he relaxes into her touch. ‘How about this one?’

‘He loves that Paddington Bear book, doesn’t he?’ Amy sniffs. ‘It’s perfect.’

Inside it, Amy writes To our little marvel, and blinks up at Jake with tear-jewelled eyes. He writes a messy paragraph that Amy will read to Mac in place of his usual bedtime story and will eventually end up in the baby scrapbook she’s been making.

Although Mac doesn’t entirely understand the concept of his birthday, he basks in the attention nonetheless. He’s all Jake pounding over to the door to greet a new guest and wonderfully Amy in graciously accepting his presents and stacking them neatly by size in the corner.

‘I have to say, you’ve outdone yourself, Amy.’ Kevin says, watching a blindfolded Mac teeter towards a ‘pin-the-shell-on-the-turtle’ on the other side of the room.

‘Thank you,’ says Amy, beaming. ‘Cake?’

‘My wife is a perfectionist,’ Jake says, with the resident spark in his eye that signifies a humble brag. ‘Which is a great thing, when it comes to stuff like planning birthday parties, or picking a husband.’

Meanwhile, Holt is engrossed in conversation with Cagney, who is critiquing his decision to name his dog after a cheese when there are, she argues, much better foods out there.

‘She’s right, you know.’ Jake pauses on his way to fetch Mac a drink.

‘Even a broken clock is right twice a day.’ Holt says, disdainfully. Kevin tactfully leads him away whilst Terry distracts Cagney with a cocktail sausage.

The attention turns to a fairly one-sided game of balloon tennis between Mac and Nikolaj.

‘Having a good time, buddy?’ Jake says, from behind the camera.

‘Nikolaj,’ Mac says with a big smile. Amy rubs a crestfallen Jake’s back and wordlessly cuts him a second piece of birthday cake.

‘He knows,’ she says, later, when Mac is napping after all that excitement and they’re tidying away the rest of the party debris.

Jake looks up, but she’s midway through organising Mac’s heap of birthday presents, early prep for the monogrammed thank-you notes. ‘How much you love him. We know.’

He’s buoyed on cake and laughter but it’s love that fills him, overwhelms him.

iii. a lifelong love letter

Doug Judy’s wedding falls just after summer solstice.

Mac is initially reluctant to put on a suit, especially once Amy’s lint-roller makes an appearance and it becomes clear this is not a ‘messy’ outfit, but then he sees Jake in his tux and the allure of matching with Daddy wins him over.

‘Liquid fire,’ Jake reaches down to high-five his son.

Amy is a vision in pale pink, inky hair dusting her breastbone, a glimmer of rose at her lip.

‘Wow, Ames,’ Jake whistles - it’s no secret he loves Amy in pink - and nudges Mac conspiratorially. ‘Doesn’t Mommy look super pretty?’

‘Mommy s’always super-pretty,’ Mac says, diplomatically, to which Jake nods in approval and Amy

‘Peraltas giving ya fancy,’ Jake says, hoisting Mac onto his hip and using his free arm to coil around Amy’s waist and hold up the phone camera. ‘Smile!’

‘Heads up,’ Jake says, staring intently at the arch, which is pristine white and looped in roses and not very Doug-Judyish at all. ‘I’m almost definitely gonna cry.’

‘Jake, you cried on the way over here.’

‘You shouldn’t have let me watch Notting Hill this morning!’ he exclaims. A pause, and then: ‘are you sure my speech is okay?’

‘It’s great. We liked it.’ Amy gestures to Mac, who’s holding her hand pretty tightly now that there’s a stream of strangers around them. He’s not the most anxious baby, but there are probably more unfamiliar people than he’s ever been around before and Mac’s trembling lip goes straight to his heart.

‘Guess Judy was being serious about going legit.’ Jake says, glancing around at the swathes of creamy white décor. ‘Not a criminal in sight.’

‘Or not.’ Amy says, squinting at the wedding cake as though inspecting it for explosives. ‘I’ve never trusted bad boys.’

‘And yet you married one.’

Jake does, in fact, cry during the ceremony. Mac does pretty well at sitting still and listening once they get him comfortably nestled in Amy’s lap with a soft toy, and Amy’s so engrossed in the poetry that Judy’s bride is reciting for him that she doesn’t notice her husband quietly weeping beside her until Mac helpfully whispers in her ear that ‘Daddy’s shirt is wet’.

Amy gently displaces him onto Jake’s lap, deciding he needs their darling son’s attention more than she does in that moment.

He gives his speech. Judy cries. Judy’s wife, Katherine, doesn’t seem to hate it, which is a victory in itself. Jake’s pretty sure that Mac didn’t really understand most of it, but he definitely knows the word ‘love’ since it’s used as liberally as possible in their household, and that’s all that really counts.

‘All those people were laughing for you, Daddy,’ Mac tells him afterwards

‘Ah, but I only care about making you and Mommy laugh.’ says Jake, seriously.

‘You’re good at that.’ Mac says, after a moment’s thought. The wonderfully, airy feeling in his chest lasts all the way through the first dance, until he takes a beat to check his phone.

‘It’s just Charles, wanting updates.’ Jake shoves his phone back into his pants pocket and watches Mac blowing bubbles with some of the other kids. ‘And a picture of Nikolaj eating a sandwich. Wanna dance?’

‘Jake, I love you so much, but please no birth story today.’ Amy says, brow furrowed, as she leads him onto the dancefloor.

‘Aww, but Ames, I rode a horse! During a blackout!’

‘I know babe, but we don’t know any of these people.’

Jake grumbles a little - he lives to tell that story, even if it’s just to hype up how incredible his wife was that day - but then Amy’s in his arms and twirling him underneath strings of warm white lights and he’s struck with utter contentment.

‘Daddy, Daddy, you’re dancing without me!’

Jake stops mid-twirl as their son comes pelting onto the dancefloor, arms outstretched and ready, as always, to butt in between his parents.

‘Let me and Mommy finish our dance and then we’ll have as many songs as you want, okay?’

‘Can we do our penguin dance?’ Mac asks.

‘You bet.’

True to his word, Jake spins Amy back into her seat a song or two later and beckons his waiting son over. Mac climbs onto Jake’s feet and wraps tiny starfish hands around Jake’s cuffs while Jake shuffles them around. The ‘penguin dance’, as Amy coined it, is a Saturday morning special in the Peralta household.

Amy takes a glass of champagne and watches them, Mac clinging to Jake like a barnacle and throwing his head back in delight, curls bouncing. There’s not something in the air. The love between them is pure, unadulterated.

‘You have a beautiful family.’ an older woman popping up at her elbow proffers a handkerchief. ‘He’s cute.’ Mac or Jake? Amy puzzles. Judging by the wink, it’s both.

‘They.’ Amy nods and wipes her eyes before Mac can see her crying and assumes his mommy is upset. Even though she wouldn’t mind one of his bear-hugs right about now.

Jake keeps his promise and forgoes the birth story. It’s fine, because he has another favourite topic at the ready.

‘I’m Jake, I’m a dad,’ she hears him say from their table. ‘That’s my son, Mac, over there, with my wife Amy-’

Amy’s sitting with all the kids, completely in her element as Jake recognises her gearing into ‘teacher-mode’. She’s showing two five year olds how to make napkin origami and catches his eye over an unfinished lily. She looks happy as he’s ever seen her, half a flower in one hand, a fork of potatoes for Mac in the other.

She returns to him just before cake is served, giving his hand a reassuring nudge under the table.

‘-and that’s how I convinced my wife to name him after a Die Hard character.’ Jake is telling an elderly man beside him, who stops feigning interest the moment Amy resumes her seat.

‘Making new friends?’ she prods him with a smile.

‘Sorry I’m not as popular as you.’ Jake says, gesturing over to the kids’ table. ‘I bet five year old Amy held the best tea parties ever.’ he adds, affectionately rubbing a finger over her knuckles.

‘My brothers used to ruin them before I could ever finish the whole table.’ Amy shakes her head. ‘Then they became crime scenes.’

Jake laughs and tilts his head over to where Mac is burbling away with another baby. ‘He’s loving all the attention.’

‘Mm-hm, your son through and through.’

‘Except I’m way more suave, Ames, the kid still has cake crumbs around his mouth.’

‘Suave, hm, yeah,’ Amy teases. ‘As if you don’t need more attention than Tinkerbell.’

‘Hey. Peter Pan would be nothing without Tinkerbell.’ Jake interjects, then grins sheepishly. ‘Mac and I watched it on my day off.’

‘That explains why you were mumbling about Captain Hook in your sleep last night, I thought you were having a stroke.’

‘He does look happy, doesn’t he?’ Amy says after a moment, eyes drifting back over to Mac. The relief is subtle, but palpable. Jake knows she doesn’t worry so much about being a good mother these days, that Mac’s happy, cherub-like demeanour is evidence enough for her, but she still takes solace in the little things.

‘What would you think about another one? For reals?’ He pauses as a server sets down two slices of cake in front of them. Strawberries and cream.

‘You want to try again?’ Amy’s words are slow, measured. She watches Jake dig into his cake with admirable gusto.

‘If you’re not ready, that’s fine,’ he says quickly, setting his fork down. There are cake crumbs all about his lip. ‘But…I don’t know. I think it’d be kinda cool. We’d make a pretty respectable Addams Family at Halloween.’

Amy silently looks over at Mac, who’s blowing bubbles, utterly carefree, peering over at his parents every now and then to make sure they’re never too far away. His chin is peppered with cake crumbs around his mouth, just like Jake’s. Every day she’s seeing a trait that she loves in Jake surface in Mac.

She pushes her untouched frosting over to her husband and smiles at him with the slightest glint of tears in her eyes. ‘Yes.’

‘Wait, you’re serious?’ Jake swallows his cake in one gulp and plants both hands on the table. ‘You really mean it?’

‘Yes. Yes, I want another baby with you.’

When he kisses her, it’s light and laced with the sweetness that’s just passed between them.

‘Hey man, we’re off.’ Jake jiggles Mac, fast asleep in his arms with a lolling head on his father’s shoulder and a thumb in his mouth. His tiny bowtie is unravelling. ‘This one’s exhausted. Congratulations on the marriage.’

‘So soon? You’re gonna miss all the fun.’ Judy frowns.

‘That’s what we’re counting on.’

‘Well, I’ve got something for you.’ Judy says, reaching into his jacket pocket.

‘Gifts for the guests? That’s a break in tradition, isn’t it?’ Jake looks to Amy for help.

‘Ah, but you’re not just any guest, Peralta. You’re the best man.’ says Judy, holding out a couple of unmarked CDs for Jake to take.

‘An EP for the little man,’ Judy nods at Mac, who has wrapped a sleepy finger around Jake’s bowtie. ‘If ever you can’t get him to sleep. And an extra-special one for Mommy and Daddy…’

Jake takes it gingerly, avoiding Amy’s gaze. ‘Uh, we appreciate it.’

‘We’re never using that, you know that, right?’ Amy informs Jake as soon as Judy’s out of earshot.

Mac’s playlist, however, does make it onto Jake’s phone. And his stakeout mixes. And really any time that he has to work and misses his son; but not just for that reason. He never wants to forget this day - Amy, their son, strawberry frosting. It’s everything he dreamed of when they first started trying and everything he held out for even when it seemed like the universe was against them. And the real thing is so much better.

iv. keeping up my head as my heart falls out of sight

The first summer of Jake and Amy as, well, Jake and Amy, somehow manages to rewrite everything Jake thought he knew about adult relationships. In the best way possible.

When he tries to cook her dinner and burns it, Amy just opens the windows, lights the happiness candle he got her two Secret-Santas ago, and sends him out for ice cream.

‘Of course you’re a mint-choc-chip girl, Santiago,’ he rolls his eyes. ‘Only you would want toothpaste for dessert.’ but really it’s just another thing about Amy he’s mentally lodging.

His general clutter and knickknacks find their way onto walls, cabinets; anywhere a doily can be sacrificed.

‘Now people might actually think someone other than an eighty nine year old woman lives here.’ he says, playfully, but he doesn’t really care about anything except his new toothbrush next to hers in the bathroom. Amy’s cost upward of a hundred dollars and has three massage settings and Jake’s has bristles that have seen better days but its presence has a permanence that makes his heart skip.

When he runs the dryer for too long and shrinks his hoodie, he can’t find it in himself to be frustrated, because Amy wordlessly claims it as her own.

‘I always liked you in blue,’ Jake admits, and for a split-second, panics that he’s come on too strong or said too much. It’s his curse. But Amy kisses him, a ‘boop’ on the nose, and wears blue blouses three out of the next five workdays. He’ll tease her about it the in years to come (‘that’s so lame, you lo-oved me’).

He likes batman-shaped cereal but smiles at Amy over her oatmeal with a milk moustache and when he writes their (their!) grocery list she reminds him to ‘put bat-bites down’ and Jake is giddy, giddy with happiness.

His mattress is cheap and sags and there’s a patch of blue that he has no explanation for. But when they have their first fight he spends more money she knows he’s probably ever had at one time on a new mattress because he doesn’t want to lose her, and suddenly Amy couldn’t care less about orange soda stains. The day begins with them bickering over thread count and ends with him fucking her recklessly into the sunrise.

Afterwards, he somehow stays at her apartment for two weeks straight and neither of them realise it’s been that long until Jake recycles a pair of socks for the third time. Given that she’s never had anyone stay in her apartment for that long without getting the urge to kick them out (Teddy was a two-day casualty), it becomes pretty clear in Amy’s mind that Jake is here to stay. In her home, her bed, in her life.

‘I can go back to mine tonight.’ Jake says, with unconvincingly fake nonchalance. Amy just shakes her head and stuffs more of his clothes into her washing machine, but it’s not until she pencils in a column for him on her calendar that he really lets himself believe that they’re in this for the long-run.

That night they make out on the couch for half an hour until Jeopardy comes on and Jake bets Amy he can catch more popcorn in his mouth than she can - he’s right, of course - and then Amy falls asleep on him half-way through an ad break. It’s the most domestic he’s ever been with a girlfriend before and all he can think about is how glad he took the leap and somehow ended up in this reality.

Some evenings, it’s that sticky kind of warmth and there’s nothing to do but crumple onto the bed and stare sleepily at the ceiling.

Amy will talk Jake through the occasional existential crisis or Jake will listen to Amy raving about the next seminar she wants to take him to. There’s no suggestion of sex, just the sweet comfort of hanging out with his best friend who also happens to be his girlfriend and, he’s starting to realise, the love of his life.

‘You know…waffles are just pancakes with abs?’ he mumbles into her ear one such evening, when she’s draped half-across him and drifting in and out of sleep, waking up every few minutes to kiss his jaw or stroke his hair.

Sometimes he does it just for the pleasure of hearing her laugh, sometimes because he truly adores the way her brain works and more often than not she completes his 2am thoughts with something brilliant he’d never have considered. It’s only been a month or two but that’s enough to confirm what six days suggested - forever.

v. i believe in a thing called love

Saturday mornings in late summer are Amy’s favourite.

Over the years, her weekends blurred into one: frantic overtime shifts; art gallery trips; late breakfasts with her father: hot coffee, like velvet, and pan tostado, still warm from the oven.

Nowadays, with a husband and a three year old, Saturday mornings are strictly reserved for cartoons in bed. Jake wakes up early and coaxes Amy out of sleep with coffee and eggs while Mac tucks into his fruit and milk, summer’s favourite.

Jake glugs maple syrup straight from the bottle (‘it saves washing up, Ames!’) but placates her by brushing his - and Mac’s - teeth straight away when she tells him she won’t kiss him with a mouth full of cavities.

‘Mac! Looney Tunes!’

The pitter-patter of little feet on the hardwood precedes the bedroom door swinging open and Mac - with a little assistance from Jake - clambers onto the bed and wedges himself in-between his parents. He reaches for Amy, ready for tv and morning cuddles, fingers sticky pink with strawberry juice.

Amy takes the opportunity to play with his curls; they’re getting long now, but it feels wrong to cut them somehow. She knows from poring over Karen’s photo albums that they’re just like younger Jake’s.

Once he’s finished his morning bottle, they send Mac off to get dressed. Amy takes the time to pop in her contacts and brush out her hair. Jake likes to watch her, savouring those moments that are just for the two of them. Having a baby, they’ve found, has only made them appreciate these things more.

When Mac pads back in, proudly proclaiming he’s got dressed ‘all by his-self!’, Jake starts laughing. For all he likes to think he’s pretty on it with laundry these days, but the proof otherwise is right in front of him.

‘Look, Mama,’ Mac beams, waving one mismatched sock, then the other. ‘Just like Daddy!’

They make the most of the heatwave with trips to the beach.

While Mac and Amy brown, Jake burns despite three coats of suncream and the sun-hat he’s stolen from Amy, but as always, she’s there with her after-sun and a second ice cream cone to take away the sting.

Mac loves his shark water-wings, but not as much as he loves the water, begging Jake to help him jump over every wave and milking Amy’s perfectionism when it comes to sandcastle making.

‘Every sandcastle needs a princess.’ Jake nudges Amy, but Mac isn’t having any of it.

‘No, Daddy, I’m the princess,’ he insists. Who are they to refuse him?

Some days they stay there until the sun is bleeding out onto the horizon, a runny eye of oranges and golds. Mac falls asleep on the way home, cheeks and feet still speckled with sand.

Then, dinnertime: Mac, a blessing by its very definition, is up for trying about anything. Of course, this proves grounds for hilarity. One eve Jake manages to persuade him to try a lime and falls about laughing at the look on his baby’s face: confusion, revulsion, contemplation that rings of Amy.

‘You think that’s bad, wait until you try carrots,’ Jake advises him.

‘Oh no, I’m not having to trick both of you into eating your five-a-day.’ Amy calls over her shoulder.

It doesn’t matter though, because Mac is already lifting the lime to his mouth for a second bite (‘Why? Why would you eat that again?’ Jake exclaims, lowering his phone camera).

This spawns a TikTok series entitled ‘Dinnertime with Mac’ for the viewing pleasure of the Santiago brothers, complete with a rating system out of ten. Mango, apple and peanut butter all get the thumbs up…cauliflower and celery, not so much.

Amy’s initial objections are quite quickly crushed when Jake finds her deep into productivity TikTok that same evening.

‘When he’s old enough we’ll do a joint one.’ Jake tells Amy, and he’s so thrilled by the whole thing, yet another little piece of happiness he gets to share with his son that she just leaves a kiss on his forehead and slides him the fruit bowl.

The best dinners, though, are the spontaneous ones.

‘Can we have pancakes? Please? Breakfast for dinner?’ Mac asks, looking beseechingly up at his parents.

‘Great idea! Breakfast for dinner, buddy,’ Jake confirms with a fist-pump.

‘I don’t know how to make pancakes.’ Amy confesses. ‘Well, I know how. I just...can’t.’

‘Good thing I do.’ at her sceptical look, Jake grins toothily. ‘Hey, trust me. Pancakes were a staple of my diet after my dad left. Only thing I knew how to make other than grilled cheese and mayo-nut spoonsies.’

They tuck Mac into his tiny, dinosaur-patterned apron and let him measure out flour, eggs, sugar. Jake is wonderfully patient with him, just laughs when he gets shell in the mixture and flicks on the stereo with an elbow so they can dance while whisking the batter.

‘Mommy, don’t you want to help us?’

‘The last time your mommy made me pancakes she accidentally made me lava instead.’ Jake says, managing to keep a straight face.

‘You ate them!’

‘It was like a week into our relationship, I wanted to impress you.’

‘This from a man who once tried to use my hair straighteners to make grilled cheese.’

‘Mommy, pancakes.’ Mac pipes up, not happy at his neglection from this conversation.

‘‘How about…your very own bowl?’ Amy drops it in front of Mac with a peck to the head.

For a split second Jake wonders if they’re going to spend the night sponging batter off of every thinkable surface, but Mac meticulously copies Amy, looking up every few seconds to ensure that they are stirring in tandem (‘Like this, Mama?’) Jake hoists him onto a stool so he can help Amy pour the mixture into the pan and Mac’s little gasps when the batter starts bubbling tug at his heart.

‘Can I flip please, Daddy?’

‘On three.’ Jake says, closing his hands around Mac’s tiny fists. ‘Ready? One…two…three!’

‘It worked!’ Mac claps. ‘Mommy, look!’

‘They look delicious, baby.’

Mac’s hands are sticky with batter and there’s a trail of fruit juice down his neck which should make bath-time interesting, but -

‘Best dinner ever,’ he declares, tipping his clean plate, and just like that, it’s all worth it. Another happy memory for down the road.

In the evenings they fall onto the couch, a tangle of limbs and the blanket Karen crocheted for Mac. Often he’s grumpy and doesn’t want to go to bed without them (‘you and Daddy get to stay up!’). Amy will make hot milk and Jake will offer up a new bedtime story or start a chasing game around the apartment which generally tires Mac out enough to whisper ‘okay Daddy, you can tuck me in now’.

Love has changed Amy’s routine, in places unravelled it, but it’s difficult to mind when this is what it’s brought her. Not unlike the love she feels for Jake, it’s crept up on her slowly, this different kind of normal. She might wake up to Jake and Mac building a pillow-fort around her and demanding that she stay put until they’ve finished (‘you’re holding it all together, Mama!’) or to find one of her three alarm clocks has been retired to make way for the baby-monitor. It’s the best.

#smut on main ahah lool #b99 #b99 summer 2020 fic exchange #my fic #peraltiago

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meepmorpperaltiago · 4 years

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You’re my sanctuary

So I decided to combine two prompts together for my @b99fandomevents fic, the squad taking a summer road trip and Jake and Amy dancing in the summer rain – so @rose-sunlight I hope you like it!

How is he back here? He can’t be back here

The walls close in, his world begins to shrink and above him he swears he can hear Melanie Hawkins laughing, he can’t get out, he can’t get out–

Jake is woken from his nap with a sudden jolt, a shudder and a yell of frustration from the front of the squad’s rented van. As he groggily sits up, he hurriedly tries to wipe away the tears that had formed as he woke up from a viscous nightmare; but nothing gets past his girlfriend.

This trip was supposed to be an escape; with everything that the 99 had been through in the last year, they all agreed that a vacation was sorely needed. And it’s been incredibly fun so far, with all the bonding, misadventures and pit stops you could want. But being on the road doesn’t stop the night from coming.

Luckily Amy doesn’t say too much and as nobody else noticed the distressed state he woke up in, he tries to just carry on as if he hadn’t just returned from hell.

But later, when the squad are sat chatting, when summer rain is pouring from the heavy sky outside, he feels her eyes on him. Without saying a word, she gently takes his hand.

“Ames, what are you doing?”, he questions as she leads him outside without saying a word.

“We need to talk”, she says once they’re outside of the van, in a firm tone that’s almost comical considering the raindrops falling onto her face. Then she turns more gentle, getting closer and rubbing gentle circles into his arm as she asks a simple question:

“What’s going on with you babe?”

He sighs, looking her in the eyes for the first time since they stepped outside. “I had a nightmare... I was back in jail...”

He doesn’t need to say anything else – she puts her hands on his neck and kisses him gently.

As the squad put the radio on inside, music begins to pour out. Amy smiles for a second and then begins to sway. Feeling brighter by the second, Jake then takes the lead, twirling her as they both fall about laughing. But then she stops at his next words.

“Marry me?”

“What?”

“I was going to wait a little while longer, I was thinking about doing it at Halloween, but I just can’t wait anymore”

She beams, a glowing, stunning smile crossing her face. But then she pauses.

“Are you sure you’re not just saying this because of...”

“No, no absolutely not, never. I mean it. I love you. I love how smart you are, I love how beautiful you are, I love how much you pretend to like Die Hard. I love your face and I love your butt. I want it to marry you”, he responds, a rock solid certainty in every word.

The raindrops are pouring onto both their faces as tears begin to stream down their faces, but they’re both too giddy to care.

As they resume their slow waltz, the summer rain washes it all away. Finally, finally, they’re home.

#b99 #peraltiago #jake peralta #amy santiago #brooklyn nine nine #jake x amy #brooklyn nine nine fanfic #b99 fic #b99 summer 2020 fic exchange #b99 fandom events

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startofamoment · 4 years

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y’all got sundaes?

written for @ebdaydreamer who sent in the prompt “ice cream flavors” for the @b99fandomevents summer 2020 fic exchange!

They’re always fleeting - obscure glimpses granted by the universe, gentle nudges pushing each person that much closer to their destiny. How exactly Amy is supposed to work with the transient taste of mozzarella and pepperoni, in America’s pizza capital no less, she has no idea.

(Of course, David, with his freakish photographic memory and infuriating luck, only needed the flashing images beneath his eyelids to clue him in. He’d gone and found his soulmate less than an hour after he’d gotten his driver’s license.)

AU in which soulmates share one of the five basic senses, and Amy is blessed/cursed with the taste of gummy bears and fruit roll ups every morning.

Read on AO3!

#b99fandomevents #b99 summer 2020 fic exchange #b99 fic #peraltiago fic #b99 #my stuff

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letsperaltiago · 4 years

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the warmth of the sun

This is my little baby fic for @arnies-bitch and a part of the B99 Summer 2020 Fic Exchange! 🌼 The prompt is: Mac’s first time at the beach I know it's very simple and short but in between a full time internship and working part time I've been so busy. Hope it's okay either way :') And hope it’s somewhat what you had in mind, Mari! 🥰

Enjoy!

It’s the summer of 2021 and Mac is already a big 9-month old baby, when Jake and Amy show their son the beach for the very first time. Until then the two new parents have been busy working almost every day of summer away, with Mac being juggled back and forth between Karen and daycare, but hitting the month of July their beloved Captain Holt had demanded they take two weeks off to enjoy their first summer as three.

Both Jake and Amy like to think they put up resistance but truth be told the parents are over the moon to get some much needed time off - even Amy who would work for free and fun if it came down to it.

Skipping a few days ahead and the little family of three is off on their first summer adventure: driving to the beach. All three ready, giddy and packed for the battle that is going anywhere with a baby that has recently learned to hoist himself up on any object within his sight - even objects that can’t stand his weight causing him to fall on his butt and his parents to laugh lovingly after making sure he’s indeed okay.

The fact that said baby now also understands the relationship between actions and effects, also better known as the hilarious game of ‘I will drop random stuff on the ground and mommy will pick it up’ makes everything even better. Everything is one big jumble of happiness and messiness.

Quickly after parking their car and unloading the million of things they’ve brought (having a baby will do that to people, Jake and Amy have come to learn), everything from a tiny beach tent to four different kinds of sunscreen with each their SPF, the family walks a bit until they find a spot to settle down in the toasty sand and set up camp.

“Are you ready, baby?” Amy coos effortlessly as if she hadn’t just spent the whole time she and Jake were unpacking the ocean blue sun tent for their son to nap in with Mac on her arm. Jake will never not be impressed with his wife’s strength, mental and physical, and the sight of her and Mac smiling at each other as she takes off his t-shirt. It is truly one of the many many sights he wants burned into his mind forever. “We’re going to see if you like the big waters, Mic-Mac!”

“He will,” Jake, who has just finished spreading out their beach towels, assures with much confidence in his son before walking through the soft sand to join them. “You are your father’s son after all.”

The smile on Amy’s face as her husband kneels down to their son’s eye level to talk to him is brighter than the warm summer day’s bright, yellow son. It’s no secret that she’s been slightly stressed out these past days, researching and planning how to take your baby to the beach for the first time, but now that they’re here she feels much better and confident. Mac usually loves bath time and even though the ocean can’t exactly be compared, being much wider and colder, she hopes his sentiment will be the same or at least somewhat alike.

“Wanna go? We’ll unpack the rest afterwards.”

Amy can tell that Jake is impatient to see Mac’s reaction and she would be lying if she said she wasn’t so herself. Normally unpacking first is her prefered way to proceed but today is different, she quickly decides.

“Okay. Grab his towel and let’s go then-”

She’s barely finished her sentence before Jake almost falls over in an attempt to run to find his son’s tiny towel. Though he does manage to save himself, good balance and all that jazz, and within seconds they’re heading to the water. Jake halts: it’s a sight to see and smile at: Amy with Mac on her arm, Jake right by her side with the tiny, yellow towel thrown over his shoulder, walking into the water as one great team. They clearly can’t see themselves right now but if they could they would for sure think that they looked hella cool… and adorable.

The moment of truth is upon them. They walk into the sea water which isn’t too cold, the still relatively new parents agree, before Amy slowly sinks to her knees with an oblivious Mac in her arms.

Jake has followed Amy down to his knees to carefully splash the tiniest amount of water onto his son’s chubby leg. Fear shows on both parents’ face when their son’s body freezes at the new sensation. Never before has the little one bathed in cold water before and while he has obviously noticed Jake proceeds in an attempt to make the best out of it. “What’s that, Mac-Man?” Jake coos joyfully taking in the sight of his son’s new discovery with great amusement.

“Should I put him in?” Amy asks nervously trying to decode how her son is really feeling besides confused before throwing a glance at her husband.

“I mean… He looks okay to me? Just a bit confused maybe,” Jake, just as much as Amy, hopes to find the right answer in his spouse’s eyes but it’s safe to say that it’s in vain. “Try? Worst case he doesn’t like it and you lift him back up. He’ll be alright.”

“Okay,” Amy confirms. She trusts Jake and she knows he’s right. It is just water after all. So, slowly, she sinks down further carrying Mac with her and soon the baby’s feet are fully submerged. He doesn’t say anything but simply looks confused, back and forth between his mom and dad with that chubby pout that they know so well by now.

“Yay,” Jake squeals playfully to his son to keep up the questionable morale.

“Is he okay?”

Holding him facing away from herself Amy can’t see her son’s face and relies on Jake’s point of view. She needs him to tell her that it’s all okay.

“Yeah, he’s fine. He’s just trying to figure things out, I think. Try to go further.”

“O-okay,” Amy forces a nervous smile even though she feels like a wreck on the inside. Her son is curious but also sensible, she knows. The last thing she wants is a huge scare and tantrum by the beach where they’re surrounded by hundreds of people who are here to relax. Either way she pushes away the doubting thoughts and sinks her son down till his legs are fully under.

For a few seconds the world somehow stands still. She holds her breath, bracing for a laugh, a cry, a scream? She isn’t quite sure.

Mac, on his part, looks like he doesn’t know whether to laugh, cry or scream which prompts Amy to feel the need to pull him back up into the safety of her arms but just as she’s about to, Mac kicks both his legs and splashes some water onto Jake who’s kneeling right in front of him. Jake laughs and being a complete copy of his dad Mac laughs along in that high-pitched screaming tone he often does when he’s extra excited.

“Was that funny, bud? Is it fun splashing daddy?” Jake coos.

Seeing his father’s reaction and wanting more of it Mac keeps kicking, squealing and smiling as if he purposely tries to keep both Jake and Amy laughing - which they do.

“You’re such a brave boy, baby!” Amy smiles, all stress and nerves far gone and drifted off to sea. All that matters is the fact that Mac is happy and having a good time. All three stay in the water for some time, splashing around, dragging Mac through the water and jumping around with him (mostly Jake as Amy witnesses nervously). Either way it’s safe to say that their little boy loves it. Neither the cold or the darkness of the ocean seems to scare him and both parents couldn’t be any more proud of his love for the big waters. A love so strong that Mac puts up a fight when his parents decide that he probably needs some warmth and a nap after so long in the fresh sea water.

“We’ll go back later, Mac,” Amy shushes as her son kicks around angrily as she tries to change his bathing diaper. “You need some nice, warm sun now.”

“... And sleep so mommy and daddy can pass out in the sun,” Jake complies from behind Amy where he’s curreently drying himself off. He earns himself a famous Santiago-roll of the eyes from his wife - even though she secretly agrees: she could really use some sleep.

It’s far from given though. Mac is not one to go down without a fight but, eventually, the baby is dry, clean and ready for what his parents hope will be a good, long nap.

Taking him bathing in the sea was obviously a huge moment for all three of them and of course they’re going to repeat it later, but right now Mac really needs a nap and Jake and Amy really do need time to simply enjoy themselves and the much needed time off work. Mac does not agree though - at least not right away. From where he’s already lying down on his towel Jake can hear Amy in the tent struggling to put Mac to sleep.

“Shh, baby, you need to sleep a bit now, okay? I know there’s a lot going on today and it’s got you all excited but that’s also why you need to rest.”

Jake smiles to himself hearing his wife trying to explain the logistics of a nap to their baby: maybe she’d taken his last name but she would forever be so very much Amy Santiago - which he loved. On the other hand, as much as Mac was a momma’s boy, Jake also knew that his son didn’t care about logistics. Especially when it came to nap time.

“Here, let me try,” Jake is quick to join his family in the tiny baby tent and lies down where he can just barely fit in next to a wiggling and gurgling Mac.

“Okay, Mr. Mac… Show daddy how good you are at sleeping!”

Amy isn’t the one to complain about Jake taking charge so she crawls back to her blanket as she overhears Mac’s impatient squirming and Jake’s various attempts at getting their son calmed down. It goes on, a restless back and forth between father and son, and Amy kind of wants to intervene but also knows Jake wants to and can do this. Plus, it means she can do crosswords in the sun without any interruption so she tries to keep herself busy, ignoring whatever is going on in the tent and soaks in the dearly missed feeling of relaxation.

Although she does frown when it’s suddenly been quite a while since she’s heard any noise coming from the tent. From either her son or husband. Actually, she checks her phone, it’s been so long that she’s almost finished an entire crossword in one sitting which is huge - she honestly can’t remember the last time she did that. A baby and crossword-time was rarely given.

“Jake?” She whisper-yells out for her husband but is left hanging with no answer. Only the sound of crashing waves and the occasional squeal from a seagull can be heard. Figuring it can wait, just a bit, she puts down her crossword and crawls through the sand to the tent.

Here, surrounded by the blue tinted light caused by the tent’s fabric, she is met by the sweetest sight: Jake curled up on his side and fast asleep with Mac right by his side. The little Peralta is passed out on his back with arms and legs spread out making him resemble a tiny, chubby starfish.

After soaking in the sight Amy of course snaps a picture and makes a mental note to herself: add this picture to Mac’s baby album under the title ‘Baby’s first day at the beach!’. Straight away she makes the picture her new lock screen photo because who wouldn’t want a constant reminder of the amazing day they spent at the beach with their incredible husband and cutest baby starfish?

#B99Summer2020FicExchange #b99 summer 2020 fic exchange #peraltiago #jake and amy #jake x amy #mac #baby peraltiago #fanfiction #fanfic #oneshot #b99 #brooklyn nine-nine #brooklyn nine nine #brooklyn 99 #fic #fluff

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b99fandomevents · 4 years

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–aaaaaaaaand we’re back! ☀️

Thank you to all the writers who signed up for our Summer 2020 Fic Exchange and have been patiently waiting for its return!

As you know, we at @b99fandomevents felt that it was necessary to put the event on hold in order to give everyone the opportunity to focus on the Black Lives Matter movement. While we’re still encouraging everyone to keep reflecting on concrete ways to support the movement, we feel that it is possible for us as a fandom to return to fic writing and reading – provided that we always remember that the show and our stories are works of fiction. Our beloved Brooklyn Nine-Nine characters are by no means real life police officers, and our love for the show definitely shouldn’t cloud our perception on the realities of police brutality and racism.

All that being said, we are happy to announce that registration is re-open until 11:59 pm PST on July 24th! Even if you registered in May, you must submit the updated form. If you did not sign up the first time and now feel like you want to join in on the fun, you’re 100% welcome to register! On the other hand, if you initially registered but now don’t want to or can’t join the event for whatever reason, that’s completely fine.

Check out the guidelines below, and note that we’ve added a theme!!!

When signing up, you each will provide 3-5 SUMMER-related prompts that you’d like someone to fill. These prompts should either be set in the summer season itself or just be related to summer imagery. (Think: sun, heat, beach, swimming, vacations, camping, fresh fruit, popsicles, relaxation, fireworks, etc.) Prompts may be as general or as specific as you’d like – feel free to be creative!

If you are 18 years old or above, you may submit a maximum of 1 smutty prompt as you wish. We will make sure to assign your requests to another writer also above the age of 18, but we want to give them the opportunity to write something non-smutty depending on what sparks their creativity.

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.

On or before July 29th, you will be assigned 3-5 summer-themed prompts requested by another participant. Please make sure that your tumblr inbox is open or that you provide a valid e-mail in your registration form so we can contact you!

You will have until September 13th to write and post a fic based on at least 1 of the prompts assigned to you. (If you are inspired to, you may combine and/or fulfill multiple prompts.)

In your post, tag @b99fandomevents and your assigned person’s tumblr URL and/or AO3 username. Also include #b99 summer 2020 fic exchange and #b99fandomevents in the tags.

Anyone and everyone is welcome to join this fic exchange, but please note that we have a three strike system in terms of late/missing submissions. We know real life can get crazy and can throw a wrench in fic writing plans, but we do want to keep this as fair and fun as possible. Writers who fail to submit on time for three exchanges will be barred from future events.

If you realize you won’t be able to complete your fic, please inform us as soon as possible so we can reassign the prompts you were given. It will not be held against you if you reach out to us at least 2 weeks before the deadline.

#b99 summer 2020 fic exchange #b99 fic #b99

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impossiblyizzy · 4 years

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New fanfic alert!

For @feeisamarshmallow for the B99 Summer 2020 fic exchange (@b99fandomevents)

After dropping Mac off for his first ever stay at summer camp, Jake and Amy attempt a trip of their own.

‘Hey, so this is Mac’s first time at camp,’ Jake said. ‘And he has a hard time with new people – like he’s the absolute best when you get to know him, the smartest sweetest kid, but he gets overwhelmed easily, and, like, who can blame him? The world’s bananas. I mean, the other guy I arrested this guy who – ’

‘What my husband means,’ Amy interrupted, ‘is that we’re a little worried about Mac’s ability to adjust to new social situations.’

Read it on AO3.

#b99 summer 2020 fic exchange #b99 fanfic #brooklyn nine nine #B99 #peraltiago #my writing #I wrote a fic and Charles isn't even MENTIONED are you proud of me #oh wait he totally is mentioned #never mind!

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feeisamarshmallow · 4 years

Text

A Beautiful Day for a Picnic, a b99 fanfic

Rating: G

Characters: Jake Peralta, Amy Santiago, Raymond Holt, Kevin Cozner, Charles Boyle, Rosa Diaz, the whole squad makes an appearance, and Arlo too

Summary: “And what we have here, my friends, is a classic locked-room whodunit.” When the Picnic Games prize goes missing, it’s up to the squad to figure out where it went. Good thing they’re detectives. Too bad the culprit is probably one of them. A b99 picnic-themed casefic.

Written as part of the b99 Summer 2020 Fic Exchange (@b99fandomevents) for Adele (@b99peraltiago), who asked for, “the squad gathering together for a summer barbecue/weekend getaway together.”

Thanks to MediumSizedEvil for the beta, and the wonderful classics pun, and thanks for thethursdaynext for helping me remember Mark’s name!

Read on AO3.

It’s a perfect day for the annual 99th Precinct picnic. The sun is warm, but not too hot. There’s no hint of rain, and a pleasant breeze drifts through the trees at Prospect Park as Jake and Amy make their way up a wooded path towards a pavilion in a clearing. Amy juggles an 8-month old Mac in a baby carrier on her chest, a blanket, and a set of trivia cards that she insisted on bringing, while Jake carries Mac’s diaper bag, and their contribution of (storebought) cupcakes.

“This year’s my year, Ames, I can just feel it,” Jake says, panting a little with the exertion of walking uphill.

“You say that every year,” Amy responds.

“But this year I really feel it. I think Mac is the good luck charm I need to come back from my humiliating defeat to Charles last year. I’m going to crush at these picnic games.”

“Whatever you say...Mac and I will be rooting for you regardless.” Amy grabs Mac’s hand and gives it a little tug.

More sunlight filters through the trees on either side of the path as they thin out and give way to the cut grass of the clearing. Jake and Amy can see the general hubbub of the picnic up the hill ahead of them, with various officers and support staff gathered around.

“You’re sure you’re cool with watching Mac while I compete? I know you love competition,” Jake says.

“That’s true,” Amy says, “but I think you even said it once—I get all stupid and flustered when we play games. And one of us needs to win that extra day off so we can take Mac to the children’s theatre. The only day I could get tickets for Baby Shakespeare is a Thursday that we’re both on for.”

Jake makes a face that Amy only catches in her peripheral.

“Or...I could take Mac to the new HD director’s cut commentary release of Die Hard 3? That’s pretty much the same as Shakespeare.” He turns to Amy with a goofy grin.

“Jake—”

Amy is cut off by a dog bounding past them. It’s a yellow lab, dragging his leash behind him. In hot pursuit is a bloodhound, with reddish fur, huge paws and floppy ears. Pulling up the rear is Rosa, running full-tilt and yelling after the two dogs. Jake and Amy step off the path to let her through.

“Arlo, I swear to god I will end you. I’ll ship you off to a farm where you have to work for your dinner! I won’t take you on any more W-A-L-Ks!” She bellows as she runs, her hair flying out behind her.

“Don’t worry; she does love her dog.” Jake says, ostensibly to Mac, but mostly as an aside.

Rosa continues hurling insults at her dog as she passes Jake and Amy, and doesn’t notice her phone dropping right at their feet.

“Wait Rosa, your phone—” Jake shouts after her, but she keeps running and disappears around the curve on the path behind them.

Jake bends to pick up the phone. He clicks the power button and pockets it. She’s usually so protective of her phone he honestly feels a bit giddy being able to hold it.

When Jake and Amy arrive at the pavilion where the picnic is held, the rest of the detective squad is already there. Captain Holt is on his cellphone, standing off to the side, gesturing with the one hand not holding the phone. Kevin is behind a charcoal barbecue at the very back of the area, complete with tongs and a punny apron: “Cicero makes my hummus” with a picture of a roman man dipping a chip into some hummus. Cheddar sits quietly at Kevin’s feet, as if in deliberate opposition to the runaway dogs they had passed a few moments earlier.

Hitchcock and Scully have set up lawn chairs right next to Kevin, presumably to be first in line for the barbecue, but have promptly fallen asleep. Underneath the pavilion are rows of picnic tables, some occupied by members of the precinct, but the one in the centre has a portable whiteboard set up on with a list of all the upcoming picnic games. And in front, the coveted prize: a laminated golden ticket on display on a plastic cake stand. Usually Holt stands guard next to the highly-desired Precinct Picnic Games Prize, but the phone call has clearly distracted him.

Terry, Sharon, and their girls are seated on a blanket on the hill beside the pavilion, opposite from where Holt is still on his phone call. One of the twins—either Cagney or Lacey—has a container of bubbles and is blowing bubbles for her sisters to chase down the hill. Other members of the precinct mill around the pavillion and the hill, talking in small groups, seated on lawn chairs or blankets.

Charles, Genevieve, and Nikolaj have just arrived, and they’re still setting down their belongings— a blanket, sunscreen, and no less than 10 tupperware containers of food on one of the picnic tables. Inexplicably, Charles and Nikolaj are dressed in matching outfits with flowing, silken blouses and red bandanas tied around their heads.

“Hey Charles, Genevieve, Niko,” Jake nods as he sets Mac’s diaper bag and the cupcakes down on an adjacent table. “How’s it going?”

“Good!” says Niko. His front teeth have grown in and all of a sudden he looks like a much older kid.

“Good, Jakey,” Charles says. “Genevieve and I brought the most divine pig’s intestines for the picnic.”

“That’s great, pal,” Jake replies before he really takes in what Charles has said. But he doesn’t have time to address the horrors that Charles has brought for dinner, because he’s dying to ask about his clothing choice. “What’s with the matching flamboyant outfits? I know we get to dress cas’ for the picnic, but this is a lot, even for you.”

“I don’t know, what is with the outfits? Wink.” Charles actually says ‘wink’ aloud as he mimes one to Nikolaj.

Nikolaj acts out locking his lips and throwing away the key. Confused, Jake tries to change the subject, but he’s interrupted by Holt’s voice cutting across the pavilion. Charles and Niko slip away, leaving Genevieve to set up their feast.

“That’s simply unacceptable. My husband spoke to you six months ago to confirm our reservations at the Warther Museum Wood Carving Extravaganza,” Holt says.

Holt pauses to listen to the voice on the other end of the phone, and Rosa walks up to the pavilion. Her hair is mussed, and there’s a leaf sticking out of her curls. She triumphantly pulls along a clearly reluctant Arlo on his leash.

“Stupid dog,” she mutters.

“Oh he’s not stupid.” Amy looks up from arranging the cupcakes on a table. “I mean, I’m very allergic to him, so I’ll just, uh, take a few steps back and take some benadryl, but he’s not stupid.”

“Oh, I don’t mean Arlo.” Rosa continues to tug him along, and scoops up one of Amy’s cupcakes from the table. “Although he’s kind of stupid too. I meant that other jerk’s dog. He’s not even trained.”

“Hey, he’s trained. He goes to training lessons every Monday night.” Both Rosa and Amy look up, and find a tall, dark-haired man standing in between them, speaking.

He looks exceedingly nonchalant for someone whose dog has been terrorizing the other canine picnic attendees. He has piercing blue eyes and, bizarrely, golden tennis shoes. He looks familiar to Rosa and Amy as he grabs a cupcake, but they can’t quite place where he works within the precinct.

“Yeah, he’s being trained.” Rosa sizes the man up and crosses her arms with a scowl. “He’s not trained yet. You need to keep your dog on a leash, man.”

The man opens his mouth to respond, but Amy cuts in, “Who are you?”

It’s not the most tactful way to ask, but the question is bugging her and she’s fairly certain he’s not one of her beat cops. Maybe he works in IT.

“I’m Mark—you’re my boss! I’ve been on the squad for 8 years?”

“Ohh so sorry.” Amy immediately blushes and starts fiddling with the edge of her t-shirt. “My apologies. It’s just—we all look so different in our street clothes and...did you get a haircut? It looks great if you did...and...well I had a baby…” She gestures to Mac on her chest. “He’s really cute. Do you want to hold—”

“Don’t apologize Amy,” Rosa cuts in. “His jerk dog chased my stupid dog.”

“The dog’s probably not a jerk...” Amy doesn’t sounds convinced.

“He does steal my shoes.” Mark looks down at his feet, and Amy once again contemplates his truly unique taste in footwear. And that’s considering her husband who takes up a whole wall to store his sneaker collection.

“See? Get lost, Mark,” Rosa says.

“Yeah, get lost, Mark!” Jake takes a few steps towards Amy and Rosa and joins in, effectively creating a circle with them and Mark. Amy and Rosa both glare at Jake. “What? We gotta maintain the inner circle.”

Suddenly Amy remembers Mark, once before, being rejected from what Jake has come to call the “inner circle”. Mark looks crestfallen, and Amy’s about to feel bad for him, when his bloodhound comes bounding through again, weaving in and out of the picnic tables under the pavilion, careening into the picnic games display and knocking over the whiteboard, before almost slamming into Amy. She leaps out of the way, losing all sympathy for Mark, and turns to yell at him.

“I’m allergic to dogs. You need to get your dog on a leash, now. That’s an order!”

He at least has the decency to look apologetic but makes no move to take off after his dog who’s on a beeline to take out the Jeffords’ girls and their bubbles.

“Aha! That’s what I thought.” Holt’s triumphant voice carries across the pavilion and catches the attention of Rosa, Jake, and Amy. He removes the phone from his ear and jams the end call button with gusto. “Why must people be so incompetent?” he complains to everyone in earshot as he walks toward the mess that used to be the picnic games display.

Holt kneels to pick up the whiteboard and the rest of the contents of the knocked-over table. Jake leans over his shoulder to help. It’s not until after they’ve picked up the whiteboard, markers, and plastic cake display that Jake gasps.

“The golden ticket is gone!”

“No one move.” Jake spreads out his hands, making eye contact with Holt, Kevin, Amy, Rosa, and Mark, who have gathered around him in a circle. “The golden ticket was here a few minutes ago, which means it has to be one of us. And what we have here, my friends, is a classic locked-room whodunit.”

“Except for the fact that we are in an open-air pavilion, with no walls and certainly no doors.” Holt says, expressionless.

“Still counts. This is the best thing that happened to me since that sneaker thief.”

“Didn’t you get assigned a comic forgery case last week?” Amy asks.

“Oh yeah, that one was dope too.”

Jake pauses, and none of the squad move to speak. They all look a little skeptical about the ‘case’ that’s gotten Jake so excited.

“Okay I’ll just say it.” Jake fills in the silence. “Mark probably stole the ticket.”

One by one Holt, then Rosa, then Amy nod, voicing nondescript agreement.

“I didn’t steal the ticket,” Mark exclaims. “Honest, I didn’t. I wouldn’t risk doing anything that pisses off the inner circle. I just wanna be in the inner circle!”

“Do you believe him?” Rosa asks.

“Nope,” Jake says.

They make Mark jump up and down a few times once they’ve forced him to strip to his underwear, but no golden ticket is dislodged. It’s a testament to just how many weird antics the squad gets up to that the rest of the officers barely take notice of the almost-nude man at their picnic.

“Happy?” Mark looks at Jake.

Jake sighs. “I guess he was telling the truth.”

“Can I go get my dog now?”

Jake looks at his bloodhound, who is now chasing Cagney, Lacey, and Ava across the open space.

“Yeah, you should go after your dog. Get a leash!”

Mark takes off at a light jog, still seeming rather unconcerned about his dog.

“So let’s establish the events,” Jake says to the remaining squad members. “When was the last time anyone remembers seeing the ticket?”

“I remember seeing it, but then I got distracted by Charles’ outfit,” Amy says. “Is he supposed to be an 80s hair band member?”

“Huh, I was thinking magician, but you could be right.” Jake nods. “Focus! So did anyone see the ticket after Charles left?”

Rosa, Holt and Kevin shake their heads.

“Charles!” Amy exclaims.

“Someone go find Charles!” Jake tries to rally everyone, but they remain standing still. Holt’s face remains utterly unreadable, while Rosa shifts her weight, keeping her arms crossed.

After a beat, in the same tone of voice, Jake continues, “Fine. I will go find Charles!”

“I swear I didn’t steal the ticket,” Charles says as Jake leads him and Nikolaj up the hill and back into the pavilion where the rest of the squad is waiting.

“Uh-huh, that’s exactly what the ticket thief would say,” Jake replies as they reach the rest of the squad who, despite their vague indifference, have waited for Jake to return with Charles.

“Honestly, I don’t even want the day off,” Charles continues, panicky. “In fact sometimes Niko says I’m around too much. I’m smothering!” He pauses for a breath before adding, quieter, “It’s the Boyle way.”

“Look here.” Amy takes a step towards Charles and shares a look with Jake. She has committed to this investigation, and that makes Jake smile. Just like a million old cases, Amy’s taking on the Disciplinarian Teacher role that she plays so well.

“I have eye-witnesses that place you at the scene of the—”

On her chest, Mac starts wiggling around and whimpering. She starts to rock up and down on her feet and continues, “....scene of the crime at the last—”

Mac’s whimpers escalate into full-blown tears as Amy tries to finish her sentence “...last time the ticket was seen.”

“Anyone could’ve stolen that ticket! Captain Holt could’ve stolen the ticket!” Charles points towards the Captain.

“Please. I’m your commanding officer. Your petty vacation days mean nothing to me.” Holt is nonplussed.

“Plus he already has a vacation booked,” Jake adds.

That prompts Holt to raise his eyebrows, which on him is a sign of astonishment.

“Sir, you yelled it across the pavilion. Although why you want to use your vacation days to travel to Ohio to learn about woodworking I have no idea.”

“How did you…”

“I know things! I can use google!” Jake feigns indignance.

“Kevin?” Charles continues.

“I am not a member of the NYPD. A golden ticket as a metaphor for a day off has no meaning or relevance to my life. I am much better suited to being the—what did you call me, Raymond? The grill boy?” Kevin looks at Holt, eyebrow raised.

Holt nods, satisfied.

Mac, still strapped to Amy’s chest, continues wailing despite her and Jake’s best efforts to quiet him.

“Jake,” Amy turns to her husband, “I think I’m going to take Mac on a walk, see if I can calm him down. Do you got this?”

“Roger that, Santiago.” Jake points finger guns at Amy as she moves to walk away from the pavilion, still desperately bouncing Mac up and down.

“Wait, how do we know that Amy didn’t do it?” Rosa asks, showing marginally more interest.

“I can’t even tie my shoes with Mac on my chest. How could I have bent over to steal the ticket?” Amy retorts over her shoulder.

Charles contemplates her response, before nodding and gesturing for her to leave. Amy walks down the path, back towards the woods, while Jake takes a step closer to Charles and takes her place.

“So Charles...let me paint you a picture. Last year you win the picnic games. It’s a shocking upset when you beat the reigning champ—Detective Jacob M. Peralta—at the potato toss. You can barely believe it yourself.” Jake paces back and forth in front of Charles, hamming up every movie detective impression he can think of.

“The golden ticket is yours,” he continues, “but soon the paralyzing fear sets in. How can you repeat what truly must have been a fluke? You don’t think you can, and so instead you hatch a plan to steal the golden ticket, using your...magician costume as a distraction.” He screws up his face and raises his voice at the end of the sentence, departing from the movie detective schtick as he takes his best guess at what Charles is supposed to be dressed as.

“It’s not a magician costume!” Charles exclaims.

“Dammit, Amy was right,” Jake says. “80s hair band member?” He raises his shoulders.

Charles just shakes his head, looking sadder with every wrong guess.

“No, Peralta. Clearly Detective Boyle is a Circus Ringmaster,” Holt says.

Charles gives another miniscule head shake.

“Carnival roadie?” Rosa guesses.

Charles takes a deep breath. “I’m a pirate.”

“Wait...what?” Jake says.

“I didn’t steal the ticket, I swear, Jake,” Charles explains. “Niko and I are dressed as pirates. It was supposed to be a secret, but forgive me, bud.” He turns to Nikolaj. “I have to prove my innocence. And besides, I’m a terrible pirate dad. Our costumes don’t even look like pirates. And Niko and I can’t even find any of the gold coins I hid here yesterday.”

By the end of his speech Charles is on the brink of tears.

“So that’s where you disappeared to,” Jake says.

“Dad, it’s okay that we can’t be pirates.” Nikolaj tugs on Charles’ sleeve. “I just like spending time with you. Maybe we can go blow bubbles with Cagney and Lacey instead?”

“Would you like that, bud?” Charles wipes a tear out of his eye and wraps a hand around his son’s shoulders.

Nikolaj nods.

“Can we go? If I see anything about the ticket I’ll let you know,” Charles asks Jake.

“Go ahead Charles, you wonderful…” Jake pauses. “Pirate.”

It appears to be happy tears this time that Charles wipes from his eyes as he envelopes Jake in a hug. Jake pats his back a few times before pulling away.

“Thanks, Jake!” Charles says.

“So who does that leave? It wasn’t Mark. It wasn’t Captain Holt or Kevin. It wasn’t Amy. It wasn’t Charles. Hitchcock and Scully?” Jake makes a disgusted face.

At that moment Scully snorts and wakes himself up. He elbows Hitchcock awake and they both lean forward in their lawn chairs to join the conversation.

“What’s going on, Jakey? Did someone steal the hot dogs?” Scully looks impossibly alarmed at the prospect.

“Don’t worry Scully, we can eat the emergency hot dogs I keep in my pocket.” Hitchcock reaches around and pulls out two flattened, uncooked hot dogs from his back pocket.

“Mmm, butt-warmed,” says Scully.

Rosa rolls her eyes, and Holt looks stone-faced, which is his version of disgusted.

“No forget it, they could never pull off a heist this good,” Jake says.

“And they were asleep the entire time,” Holt adds.

“Nap time?” Hitchcock looks to Scully.

“But you just woke up?” Jake exclaims.

“Leave them be, it’s easier that way,” Rosa says to Jake.

Hitchcock and Scully settle back in their lawn chairs, disgusting hot dogs forgotten and fallen by their feet.

“So if it’s not Hitchcock and Scully, that means it has to be,” Jake spins around and points a finger, “Rosa.”

Rosa’s scowl deepens, but she doesn’t say anything.

“Rosa has been almost silent this whole time. And she’s been the runner up in the picnic games every year. There’s motive. Skill. And we place her at the scene of the crime.” Jake ticks off each reason on his fingers.

“Watch it, Jake.” Rosa’s eyes narrow, her fingers clenched.

“And…” With a flourish, Jake takes Rosa’s phone out of his pocket. “I know she’s taking a spa vacation next month that she’ll need a day off for.”

Before Jake can explain, Rosa lunges for her phone.

“What the hell, Jake?”

“You had the email confirmation open on your phone!” Jake says, struggling to keep the phone away from Rosa as she puts him in a headlock.

“I already took time off, dummy. Remember the Advanced Weapons Training conference?”

Recognition dawns on Jake’s face as he realizes the “conference” is actually Rosa’s spa day. He stops struggling, which prompts Rosa to relieve some of the pressure she’s been putting on twisting his arm. With a final lunge, Rosa grabs the phone from Jake’s hand. The force pushes Jake backwards, and he falls on his butt.

“How do we know that Jake didn’t steal the golden ticket? He has the most motive out of all of us!” Rosa says, standing over Jake.

In a circle around him, Holt and Kevin nod.

“Wait..no! I’m an innocent man. Rosa, back me up on this! We both got wrongly accused! We know what that’s like!” Jake tries to give her an innocent smile, but it comes out more like a grimace.

“You accused me first,” Rosa says.

“And you stole her phone,” Holt observes.

“I didn’t steal it! It fell out of her pocket while she was chasing Arlo and Mark’s stupid dog.”

Rosa continues to look annoyed, but after hearing Jake’s admission she reaches out a hand and hauls him off the ground.

“Wait wait...Mark’s stupid dog. I know what happened!” Jake exclaims as he gets to his feet. “Gather everyone around. It’s time for the big reveal!”

Rosa, Holt and Kevin still look skeptical, but they’re willing to give Jake a chance.

Ten minutes later, all the suspects are back gathered underneath the pavilion. Kevin and Holt. Rosa. Mark. Charles and Nikolaj. Only Amy is still missing.

“You expect us to believe that a dog took the golden ticket?” Holt appears to be holding in laughter. “I am unsure Cheddar could pull off that trick, and he has been an invaluable part of the annual Halloween Heist. Unlike this uncultured beast.” Holt gestures at Mark’s dog.

Jake nods. It seems like Holt is disproving Jake’s theory, but he’s actually confirming it. “The dog is clearly out of control; he chased Arlo,” Jake says.

Everyone looks confused, but are intrigued enough that they keep listening.

“But he’s in obedience classes!” Mark splutters.

“Exactly! Because he’s been stealing your shoes, right? Your gold shoes?” Jake says, with the touch of pride that inflates his voice when he’s about to make a big solve.

“What’s that got to do about it?” says Mark.

“This dog is a kleptomaniac with a very particular taste.” Jake points to the bloodhound, now on a leash, lying at Mark’s feet. “He stole the ticket not because he wanted a day off, but because it was gold!”

“Jake…” Charles reaches a hand out towards Jake, clearly unsure about Jake’s theory.

“Hear me out—Charles, you said yourself that you and Niko can’t find any of the gold coins that you planted. You’re not just bad pirates, the dog stole them!”

There’s a beat of silence.

“Well if the dog has been stealing them, where are they now?” Rosa finally asks.

“We set a trap and find out.” Jake looks impossibly excited at this idea. He makes eye contact with Kevin, who glances down at the gold detailing on his apron.

“Surely you don’t mean to sacrifice my apron. It was an anniversary present,” Kevin protests.

The squad, plus Kevin and Mark, are crouched behind a picnic table. They’ve cleared out a space in the middle of the pavilion and made everyone vacate the area. In the centre of the pavilion sits Kevin’s apron.

At Jake’s cue, Mark lets his dog off the leash. The squad watches as—just like Jake predicted—the bloodhound sniffs curiously at the golden ties on Kevin’s apron. Kevin gasps and covers his mouth when the dog picks up the apron in his mouth. Holt remains stoic, but puts a comforting hand on his husband’s arm.

Suddenly, a voice behind them makes Jake jump.

“Jake!” Amy appears with Mac, now asleep in his carrier.

“Not now, Ames,” Jake whispers, gesturing for her to join them in hiding behind the picnic table. “We’re figuring out where this dog stashed the golden ticket.”

Amy crouches as best she can and says, “that’s what I’m telling you. I found a stash in the woods. The golden ticket. A bunch of golden coins. It’s all there. The dog must be—”

“—a kleptomaniac with a peculiarly golden taste?”

Amy nods, excited.

At that moment, Mark’s dog takes off at a trot down the hill and towards the forest. The squad jogs behind him, Jake taking the lead, and Amy opting to walk so as not to wake up Mac.

The dog leads them off the path and into the forest, between two large rocks, over a fallen tree, and down into a small gully. He disappears into a clump of bushes. Jake gets down on his knees and crawls in after him, while the squad waits.

Inside the bushes is a small clearing of hard-packed dirt. On top sits a pile of objects, all gold or yellow. A pile of pirate coins. A yellow bubble wand. A baseball cap. And on top, the golden ticket.

Jake grabs the ticket and emerges, victorious.

“Mark’s dog, you are under arrest for theft of the golden ticket and various other gold and/or yellow items over the past three hours!” Jake drags the dog by his collar back to Mark, who sheepishly puts the dog back on his leash.

“The real question is, who gets the day off now? We’ve wasted the whole day looking for it, there’s no time for the games,” Charles says.

“That’s easy,” Jake says.

Rosa and Amy exchange a look, like they know Jake is going to declare himself the winner, but instead he says:

“Amy deserves the ticket. She found it first! Plus she’s been taking care of Mac all day. And now she’s back at work even though she’s still getting up all the time to feed Mac in the middle of the night. And…” He sighs. “Baby Shakespeare is probably a more age-appropriate event than the re-release of the Die Hard 3 director’s cut commentary in HD.”

To Jake’s surprise, no one protests. Jake gets down on one knee and offers the ticket to Amy.

“Amy, will you do me the pleasure of accepting this dirty, dog-slobbery ticket and taking our son to a ridiculous Baby Shakespeare show?”

“I will,” she says, laughing, but her smile is genuine.

Jake gets up off his knees and shares a brief kiss with Amy, and the squad erupts in spontaneous applause.

“How did you find the stash, anyways? It’s way off the path.” Jake asks as they all make their way back to the picnic.

“Well, I actually couldn’t stop thinking about the case. And I suddenly remembered the dog running past us and just had a hunch that maybe he was hiding stuff in the woods. You know, like that theft case we worked where it turned out to be a crow stealing the jewellery? So I went looking for his stash.”

As they arrive back at the pavilion, they find Terry behind the barbecue, cooking hamburgers and hot dogs.

“Where have you guys been? Terry and Terry’s family are hungry!” he says.

“You missed it Sarge, the golden ticket went missing! We had to find it,” Jake says.

“Oh you mean the ticket the dog took?”

“What?”

“I saw it run past with the ticket in its mouth. I figured you all knew. You gotta keep that dog on a leash, man.” Terry points his spatula at Mark.

By the time Jake and Amy have both dished themselves plates filled with picnic fare—hotdogs, chips, watermelon, cupcakes—Mac has woken up again, but he’s happier now. They’re sitting on a picnic blanket on the side of the hill. Mac giggles as Cagney and Lacey run in front of him, popping bubbles that Nikolaj is blowing. To their left sit Charles and Genevieve, their heads resting on each other’s shoulders. Behind them, Holt and Kevin stand balancing their paper plates, engrossed in some sort of intellectual debate. And down the hill, Rosa plays fetch with Arlo.

The sun has that golden quality of late summer afternoons. The wind blows softly through the leaves and it’s a beautiful day for a picnic.

#b99 summer 2020 fic exchange #b99fandomevents #brooklyn nine nine #b99 fanfic #b99 fanfiction #fee writes stuff

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stolethekey · 4 years

Text

all i’ve ever known is how to hold my own (but now i wanna hold you, too)

for @caniwritemywayout as part of @b99fandomevents!

Charles grabs Jake’s arm, ignoring his profuse questions and demands, and drags him to the side of the room. On the way, he gestures at Rosa, who is currently in conversation with a woman Jake has never seen before.

“That’s Amy,” Charles explains unnecessarily. “Santiago. The new teacher.”

“Yeah, I got that.”

or, the high school teacher au

read on ao3

preview under the cut, but full fic is only on ao3 because this guy is LONG!!1!

Jake Peralta hates the summer.

It’s hot and muggy outside, which he hates more than anything, and it’s the opposite of Christmas, which means it’s the opposite of Die Hard and holiday parties and free-flowing booze.

Plus, if he’s being honest, he misses his job.

John Roebling High isn’t exactly an exceptional school; it’s solidly average on every list ranking Brooklyn high schools, and in most ways, it is precisely what one would expect a conventional American high school to be.

Except his colleagues are awesome, and so are his kids, and every day he spends with them makes him a happier person.

So he hates the summer, and he wiles away the hours movie-hopping and sipping large orange sodas with Charles, reminiscing about the semesters past and looking forward to the semesters ahead.

“Gina said there’s gonna be a new teacher this year,” Charles says conversationally, wincing slightly as they step out of the air-conditioned theater and onto the sidewalk. “Some Ivy-league grad. She’s teaching classic literature, or something.”

Jake stops to throw his popcorn bucket into the trash and raises his eyebrows. “We never get new teachers. And classic lit? Why do we need that when we already have AP Lit? What is this, some kind of private religious school?”

“You teach film,” Charles reminds him. “That’s not exactly standard public-school fare, either.”

“I—well, I just don’t get why an Ivy grad would ever want to teach at John Roebling. Not because we’re not awesome, but because—”

“We’re too cool for that stuffy, snobbish shit. Yeah.”

There’s a beat, and then Charles says, “Holt invited her to our school-year kickoff party.”

Jake nearly spits out his drink. “He what?!”

“It makes sense, I guess. She’s a teacher. All the other teachers go.”

“All the other teachers are friends,” Jake grumbles, and privately he wonders if this is the year the magic dies.

Raymond Holt’s school-year kickoff parties are Jake’s favorite part of summer.

They’re as close to ragers as is appropriate for a bunch of high school teachers and their principal to throw, which is to say that they’re not ragers at all—but both alcohol and warm conversation flow freely and abundantly, so who is Jake to complain?

He maneuvers around Holt’s house with practiced ease, smiling at his colleagues and stopping by the shrimp platter a little more often than necessary. At one point, Hitchcock corners him in the kitchen and bestows upon him an incredibly long, scripted pitch for what is clearly a pyramid scheme. Jake pops Skittles into his mouth one at a time, nodding with what he hopes is believable interest, and once his bowl is empty he decides it’s time to leave.

“That sounds great,” he says, patting Hitchcock on the shoulder and ducking under his arm. “I’ll let you know.”

“But I didn’t even finish—”

“Sorry!” Jake calls, spotting and making a beeline for a familiar shade of khaki in the living room. “Boyle needs me!”

Charles turns at the sound of his name, rolling his eyes as he waits for Jake to approach. “Did he give you the Nutriboom pitch too?”

“Yeah, it was terrible—”

“Well, good, because that’s gonna make what I’m about to do seem a lot better.”

“That’s Amy,” Charles explains unnecessarily. “Santiago. The new teacher.”

“Yeah, I got that.”

His first thought is that she’s younger than he expected. His second thought is interrupted by Rosa and Santiago’s conversation.

“You have a lot of opinions on this,” Rosa says gruffly.

“I’m just saying!” Santiago’s voice is bright, and her eyes are shining with the excitement Jake reserves exclusively for sour candy and action movies. “Emily Brontë is the worst Brontë sister and that is entirely because she wrote Wuthering Heights, which sucks ass.”

“I’ve gotta say,” Jake says loudly, sidling up beside Rosa. “I never thought I’d hear such a boring topic discussed with some enthusiasm.”

Santiago turns toward him, her voice indignant when she answers. “I teach classic lit, I should hope that I’d care about it.” The indignation fades she takes him in, replaced by a recognition that Jake finds slightly unsettling. “Oh. Holt told me about you. You must be Jake.”

“And you must be fun at parties.”

She shakes his outstretched hand, her mouth twisting into a wry smile. “I was under the impression that I was currently at a party.”

“I—you are,” Jake stammers. “This is.” He glances at Charles for help. Charles beams at him. Jake wrenches his gaze back towards Amy, who has allowed a slightly smug expression to float onto her face.

“Well, you let me know whether your prediction turns out to be true,” she says evenly, then nods politely at Rosa. “I’m gonna grab another drink.”

Jake glowers at her back until it disappears into the kitchen. When he turns, Rosa has a supremely superior smirk on her face.

“What?” He demands.

“Nothing,” Rosa says, her smirk growing even wider. “I’m just excited for the year.”

keep reading on ao3!

#b99 summer 2020 fic exchange #b99fandomevents #my b99 fics #my fics #sorry y'all i am not posting the entirety of this 33-page monstrosity on tumblr #but i will say that i had so much fun writing this fic #more fun than i've had in a long time #and it made me sad that law school is so all-consuming that my writing may never see the light of day again #anyway #i hope u like #b99 fanfic #jake peralta x amy santiago #peraltiago

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staystrange · 4 years

Text

heart is yours for the taking

Brooklyn Nine-Nine • Jake Peralta / Amy Santiago Rating: T • ~5.2k words • ao3 cw: slight mentions of drugs but no one uses them in the fic

It was officially the first day of summer. But it wasn’t just the first day of any summer, it was the first day of Jake’s first summer as Amy Santiago’s boyfriend, and Jake was determined to make it count.

-or-

Five times Jake's well-intentioned summer date plans end poorly and one time they don't.

This fic was written for @santiagoswagger as part of the @b99fandomevents summer 2020 fic exchange! I had such a blast writing this fic, and I hope that you enjoy it : )

Prompt: Snapshots of Jake and Amy’s first months as a couple through the summer.

I took this prompt and just ran with it and ended up with this! I've always wanted to write a 5+1 style fic but never had the right idea for one, so this was perfect.

Title from Summer Forever by Megan Nicole - one of my favorite summer bops!

011:58, 11:59, midnight.

He looked over at Amy, already asleep in the bed next to him. She’d come over to Jake’s apartment earlier that evening after a long day at the nine-nine (she was so busy that she hadn’t been able to get any extra paperwork done, which to her was an absolute disaster), and they’d eaten takeout pierogies for dinner before getting ready for bed early. Amy fell asleep almost immediately after giving Jake a tender kiss goodnight, but Jake was so excited for the date he’d planned for their upcoming Saturday night off that he couldn’t sleep.

Jake’s train of thought slowed in favor of focusing on Amy and how beautiful she looked, even asleep with drool moving steadily down her chin. No matter how many times he and Amy shared a bed, it never quite felt real to Jake, that he’d finally admitted his feelings for her and that she actually liked him back. Heck, Amy had broken rules for him, and he’d tried to follow some for her in return (though the whole “light and breezy” thing didn’t last long, but the effort still counted). But there she was, lying next to him as she had every night so far that week. It took all of Jake’s self control to not reach over and kiss her (he didn’t want to wake her); instead, he lay back down, facing Amy so that she was the last thing he saw before he fell asleep, a soft smile forming on his face as he drifted off.

“Ready to go, babe?” Jake asked, leaning his hip against Amy’s desk.

“Hold on, let me just finish signing this paperwork,” Amy muttered in reply, the pen in her hand moving at a snail’s pace along the dotted line on the bottom of the page.

“Ames, we’ve been over this. You need to do something about that speed. Not the drug,” Jake added quickly, “I mean how quickly you write your signature. You get what I mean, right?”

“Yes, Jake, I get what you mean.” Amy capped the pen and stood up. “I just have to turn this in to Captain Holt and then we’re good to go.” Jake followed her across the bullpen to Captain Holt’s office door, almost crashing into her when she turned around just in front of it. “You can’t come in with me, babe, I don’t want you ruining this moment between the Captain and me.”

“You mean ‘the Captain and I,’” Jake replied, a smug smile on his face, his determination to catch Amy in a grammar mistake overpowering his offense at her comment.

“No, but good try though.” She patted him on the shoulder before turning and walking through the door, closing it behind her to stop Jake from following her inside.

“Damn it, I thought I had her,” Jake said to himself, but he couldn’t help but smile proudly as he watched Amy hand her paperwork in, Captain Holt nodding with approval in response.

———

When Amy finally emerged from Captain Holt’s office fifteen minutes later, a pleased smile on her face, Jake reached for her hand, tugging her toward the door. “Come on, babe, our shift has been over for almost an hour already. We’re going to be late for our date.”

“Ooh, you’re taking me on a date tonight?” Amy squeezed Jake’s hand.

Jake grinned. “Yep! I actually managed to keep it a surprise for once.” He called the elevator, the doors opening with a ding a few moments later.

“And what are we doing on this spontaneous date that I didn’t get to prepare for?”

Jake winced internally, refusing to let Amy see the doubt that began to permeate his excitement. “You’ll see! The surprise isn’t over just yet.” He opened the passenger side door for Amy with a slightly comical bow before walking around to the driver’s side and sliding into the seat. He started the car and cranked up the radio to his favorite pop hits station, realizing in that moment he should have probably asked Amy to choose the station instead. At a red light, he turned to her to offer to change the station, but then the newest Carly Rae Jepsen single came on and he was too busy singing along, loud enough to drown out his own nerves.

When they pulled into the drive-in movie theater that had just opened right outside the New York City limits, Amy’s face fell when she saw that the night’s showing was of —

“Die Hard?!” Amy asked, incredulous. “Really? We haven’t even been dating for that long and we’ve already watched this movie way too many times. You pick this movie every single time it’s your turn to plan movie night. Why are we paying money to watch this movie again?”

“Because I thought it would be fun and maybe even a little romantic to watch it at a drive-in movie theater on a warm, clear summer night?” Amy raised her eyebrow, her arms crossing over the seatbelt. “I brought snacks, if that helps at all.”

“I’m listening.”

Jake reached into the backseat and handed Amy a plastic shopping bag filled with snacks: greasy potato chips and gummy bears for Jake, chocolate pretzels and salted popcorn for Amy. “Come on, Amy, you didn’t really think I wouldn’t bring snacks to entertain us, did you?”

“I mean yeah, the snacks help, but we could eat snacks and watch Die Hard at home, Jake. Remember when we talked about budgeting and saving your money?”

“Amy —” Jake was about to reply, but then the stadium lights shut off and the screen lit up with the opening shot of the movie. “We’re already here, I already paid for the tickets, and I already bought the snacks. Just try to enjoy this, okay?”

Amy opened the bag of popcorn, putting a couple pieces in her mouth and chewing contentedly. “Fine. But only because this popcorn is really good.”

“You took her to a drive-in showing of Die Hard and called it a romantic date?!”

The second Jake had arrived at the precinct first thing in the morning after his and Amy’s night off, Charles had marched right over to his desk and demanded details. Jake knew better than to deny him, so he told him everything, disagreement and all. Thankfully, Amy had the morning off, and Jake had let her sleep in.

Charles’s response didn’t surprise Jake, and he more than deserved the dig, but he still felt the need to defend himself. “It was romantic! Drive-in movies are totally perfect for early-summer dates, and I brought snacks and everything! And you should have seen the sunset behind the screen!”

“Okay, to be fair, that does sound nice. But still, come on Jakey, this is Amy we’re talking about! You’ve been in love with her for years! And then you get to go out with her, and you take her on a shitty date?”

“Okay, I know it wasn’t great, but I wouldn’t necessarily call it a shitty date,” Jake pointed out.

“Well, whatever, you can do so much better than that, Jake.” Charles’s face lit up with an idea. “I know! You should take her to Bon Appe-tweet, this new restaurant that I just discovered the other night.”

“Bon Appe-tweet?” Jake asked, fighting back the laugh that bubbled up in his chest. “I don’t know, Charles, is this another one of your weird food restaurants?”

“No! Jake, you’ll like it. They only serve bird-based dishes. Chicken, turkey, duck, the works. And it’s pretty fancy, so Amy will swoon, and then you’ll go home and make babies and —”

“Alright, Charles, thank you for the recommendation,” Jake said, cutting him off before he got too far down that rabbit hole. Even though Jake knew from many prior experiences that if it was something Charles recommended, it probably couldn’t be trusted, for some reason he had a good feeling about this one and decided to go with his gut. “I’ll make a reservation for later this week.”

Jake just hoped he wasn’t making a huge mistake.

———

It was absolutely a huge mistake.

Everything was totally fine at first, to Jake’s pleasant surprise. He and Amy had decided to reserve an outdoor table since the weather was supposed to be clear and warm, and to their delight, the outdoor patio was surrounded by colorful sweet-smelling flowers. Jake decided to splurge and order a bottle of rosé for them to share, and they sipped the wine slowly as they perused the menu.

“Ooh, this fancy chicken dish that I don’t know how to pronounce sounds really good. What are you thinking, Ames?” Jake asked, looking up from his menu at his girlfriend across from him. Jake had told her to dress up for this date, and she’d chosen a dark blue dress that she knew Jake liked, her hair pinned up in a classy bun. She was stunningly beautiful; there were simply no other words to describe her.

“I think I’m going to get the orange chicken,” Amy replied, closing the menu and setting it down on the table, her hands folding over her napkin in her lap. “I’m still not totally ready to trust a restaurant recommended by Charles, but you can’t really go wrong with orange chicken.”

“I’ll drink to that,” Jake said, raising his glass with a laugh.

They ordered their respective dishes when the waiter brought over a basket of bread, and they returned to their drinks, content smiles on their faces.

“This is better than the other night, right?” Jake asked

“Yes, definitely.” Amy took another sip of her rosé, her smile widening.

And then it happened.

The squawking coming from behind the restaurant building caught Jake and Amy off guard, and it was a miracle that neither of them sloshed their drinks onto the table or their clothes. Amy looked horrified, and Jake knew his face reflected a similar look back at her.

“Is there like a farm up the road or something?” Amy asked, her palms pressing into her ears.

“I have no idea!” Jake yelled back to be heard over the squawking.

When it finally stopped, Jake exhaled in relief, but there was something uneasy about the silence that followed. No one else dining out at the restaurant that night seemed to notice or care, though, so Jake chose to just shake it off and focus on Amy, whose initially anxious smile had softened as she drank.

Jake had managed to almost forget it until his and Amy’s food arrived and it hit him that the sounds they’d heard were chickens being murdered for their dinner. The thought made him sick.

“Here you go, sir, madam,” the waiter said, setting their dishes down in front of each of them. “Fresh from our in-house farm. Enjoy!”

“We can’t eat this, Jake!” Amy hissed once the waiter was out of earshot. “They murdered these chickens right in front of us.”

“I mean, they didn’t kill them right in front of us —” Jake stopped when the look on Amy’s face made it clear she was in no mood for joking. “Okay yeah, they might as well have. And normally I would support leaving right now and getting dinner somewhere else, but this food is expensive so if I have to pay for it anyway, we might as well eat it, right?”

Amy opened her mouth to argue, but sighed instead, knowing she couldn’t argue with Jake’s logic. “Fine. But please, promise me you will never trust Charles to plan anything for us ever again.”

“I swear on my original copy of Die Hard that I will never trust Charles Boyle’s food recommendations ever again.” Amy nodded her approval, gulping nervously before cutting into her food, Jake following her lead.

The chicken was actually really good when he didn’t think too hard about where it had come from.

———

“Charles, why didn’t you mention that they kill the chickens in front of you?!” Jake asked the next morning, marching up to Charles’s desk.

“Why wouldn’t they kill them in front of you? If your food isn’t being prepared in front of you at a restaurant, then what is the point of going to a restaurant?”

“Okay, Charles,” Jake said, giving up and turning to the pile of paperwork on his desk.

Jake had decided to stop testing his luck with dates for the rest of the week, choosing to plan nights in for him and Amy instead. The next week, though, Jake was feeling brave enough to try again, and this time he sought advice from someone older and wiser.

“Sarge?” Jake approached his desk during an afternoon lull in work. “You’re older and therefore wise and all-knowing. Where should I take Amy on a date this week?”

“You don’t know your girlfriend well enough to know where to take her on a date?!” Terry replied, looking up from his computer.

“No, I do, but I’m worried my ideas aren’t good enough for her. The dates I planned last week were both disasters, and I need a new plan. Where do you take Sharon for date night?”

“Well, we’ve been taking ballroom dancing classes recently and they’ve been pretty fun. They also really add to the romance level of the date, and they’re good exercise too. It’s a win-win-win! Terry loves romance.” Terry puffed up his chest in pride.

“Alright, I get it, you’re the king of dates. How do I sign up, and more importantly, how do I make sure I don’t embarrass myself in front of Amy?”

“I’ll text you the website link in a few, and you won’t embarrass yourself, Jake. It’s a class for beginners. Everyone’s in the same boat. Just let yourself have fun, and Amy will have fun too, okay?”

“If you say so, Sarge,” Jake said. “Thanks. I really appreciate your advice.”

“Anytime, Jake!”

———

“Jake, this is so cheesy,” Amy said a few nights later when they pulled into the parking lot of the dance studio.

“Is it, though? Or is it… romantic?” Jake paused for dramatic effect.

“It’s cheesy,” Amy deadpanned.

“Just trust me, okay? This is going to be fun. We’re going to have fun, I promise.”

“Alright, Jake, whatever you say,” Amy said, following Jake into the building.

After signing in at the front desk, Jake and Amy chose a spot in the back of the room, their eyes wandering around to scope out their classmates. Their instructor walked in a moment later, plugging his phone into the speakers and pressing play on a calming playlist. He led them in a series of stretches, and Jake pretended not to notice the popping sounds his joints made as he followed the instructor’s movements.

What he did notice during a particularly painful stretch, though, was a bag of cocaine peeking out of the pocket of the instructor’s leather jacket that he’d taken off and hung around the back of a chair before the class had begun.

“Ames,” Jake whispered when they’d returned to a standing position. “The teacher guy has cocaine in his jacket pocket.”

“Damn it,” she muttered. “We have to text the squad.”

“Or we could just let this go? For the sake of the date?” Jake asked, hope evident in his voice before he admitted defeat when he saw the look on Amy’s face. “Yeah, no, we have to call this in.” He stepped away from the group during a five minute water break and sent a quick text to Captain Holt.

Just as the instructor began to reorganize the group into lines of partners, the door banged open and Charles and Rosa ran in, Rosa yelling “NYPD, you’re under arrest!” and Charles running up to the guy and handcuffing his hands behind his back.

“What is this about? I didn’t do anything wrong, officers,” he protested.

“Then why do you have a bag of cocaine in your jacket pocket?” Charles asked, holding it up carefully in between two fingers.

“Damn it,” the instructor muttered. “I knew I forgot to do something before I taught this class.”

“Thanks for the tip, Jake!” Rosa said. “Sorry we ruined your date.”

“It’s fine, Rosa,” Jake replied.

Rosa and Charles led him out of the room in handcuffs as the woman working at the front desk ran in to assure everyone that they’d receive a full refund and a discount code for a future class at the studio.

“Why do our jobs have to interfere with our lives so much?” Jake said to himself as he and Amy followed the group out the door.

———

“You arrested the dance instructor?!” Terry asked in shock the next morning. “What the hell, man? I put in a good word for you! You’re going to ruin my reputation over there.”

“You think I wanted to ruin my date, Terry?!” Jake replied, arms flailing. “Now that’s three dates that have been ruined.”

Terry patted Jake’s shoulder gently, or at least what Terry thought was gently. “ There, there. And hey, look on the bright side - at least you didn’t embarrass yourself in front of Amy!”

“Alright, Rosa, you and Boyle interrupted my date last night, and I don’t trust Boyle to recommend dates for Amy and me anymore, so where do you think I should take Amy on a date next?”

“I don’t know, Jake, take her to a binder store or something,” Rosa replied calmly as she sharpened her favorite knife at her desk.

“I can’t take her to a binder store, Rosa, you know that she’s going to want to buy like everything and that’s going to get out of control way too quickly. Something else.” Jake crossed his arms, chewing his lip to use up some of his nervous energy.

“Fine, Jake. Take her to one of those paint your own pottery places. Those are always fun.”

“I can’t tell if you’re being serious or making fun of me.”

Rosa paused, glancing up at Jake for a moment before returning her gaze to her knife. “I’m serious. I take myself out to those places all the time. I like painting the little puppy figurines, they’re so cute,” she replied in a deadpan.

“Rosa, oh my God, who are you? How did I never know that about you?”

She shrugged. “You never asked.”

———

Jake had butterflies in his stomach as they walked up to the doors of Color Me Mine, the late summer afternoon sun warming the pavement. He almost was too afraid to look over at Amy, but since his eyes were almost magnetically drawn to her, not looking at her was not an option. When he finally did turn toward her, she was smiling softly, and Jake’s pre-date nerves gradually eased until he was grinning, too.

“I love Color Me Mine!” Amy said. “I used to come here all the time when I was younger.” She reached for the door handle and opened it, the air conditioning cooling them instantly as they walked inside. “We should paint something for each other, babe.”

“Like what? Dog figurines?”

“No!” Amy said, her eyebrows furrowed. “Something practical that we both use at work every day, like…” She paused, eyes wandering around the room in search of the perfect item. “Like a mug!”

Before Jake could protest that hey, maybe he wanted to paint a dog figurine for his desk, Amy had crossed the room and picked up the display mug. “This is perfect, Jake! This was such a good date idea.”

“Don’t thank me, thank Rosa — I mean, thank me, it was all my idea.” Jake tried to cover up his mistake, but Amy’s smirk told him she saw right through it.

She set the mug back down before standing on her tiptoes and giving Jake a kiss on the cheek. “Come on, let’s go pick out our paints.”

“Okay,” Jake said softly, following her to the paint display.

———

Once Jake and Amy chose paints for each other (purple and blue for Jake; orange, yellow, and pink for Amy), they sat down at a small round table in the back of the room. Amy, ever the perfectionist, insisted they paint in silence for a while to ensure that the mug she painted for Jake turned out exactly the way she wanted it to. Jake was touched, and as he worked just as diligently on his mug for Amy, he found that the silence was a comfortable one, and he was content to just be in Amy’s presence.

Jake was just putting the finishing touches on the mug, trying not to let his hand shake too much as he painted Amy’s name on it in thin dark magenta lettering, when the sound of pottery shattering startled him, completely breaking his concentration. When he looked away from a crying child and his profusely apologetic mother, he noticed that not only had he completely ruined the lettering, he’d also bumped into the table, knocking over the water bowl which had spilled all over Amy’s lap.

Jake’s heart sank, knowing he’d managed to ruin yet another date. “I’m so sorry, Ames, I didn’t mean to ruin… all of this,” he said quietly, afraid to look at her face.

“Jake, it’s fine. These jeans are old anyway, and it didn’t really didn’t do that much to your mug,” Amy said, lifting the mug off of the brown paper tablecloth.

“No, it’s not fine. I had one job, and it was to not to screw up yet another date.” He could feel the volume of his voice rising so he took a deep breath, determined not to make the entire room of painters stare at him and Amy. “I’ll go get you some paper towels.”

Amy insisted that they stay to finish up their mugs, and even though she didn’t stop smiling for the rest of the night, Jake couldn’t help but blame himself.

“Hey, Captain,” Jake began, closing Captain Holt’s office door behind him as he walked in. “Can I ask you something?”

“Of course. Is this about the paperwork that was due on my desk yesterday that you did not finish before leaving to take Amy on another romantic escapade?” Holt asked, folding his hands with his pen still clasped between them.

“Uhhhhh, no?” He smiled sheepishly. “Anyway, since Amy looks up to you more than anyone else and you know her better than anyone else except for me, because, yaknow, we boink, and stuff —” Jake winced at his own awkwardness, but forced himself to continue. “—do you have a good recommendation for somewhere I can take Amy on a date? Preferably something that I can’t possibly screw up somehow.”

“Hm. There’s the new stationery exhibit at the MOMA that she would definitely like. Make sure you budget a lot of time; Kevin and I spent five hours there last week and we still did not manage to see everything.”

“Yikes,” Jake muttered to himself.

“Did you say something, Peralta?” Holt asked.

“Oh, uh, um, why didn’t you and Kevin stay longer?” Jake asked quickly.

“Oh, the security guards kicked us out. Apparently we’d completely missed the announcements and had managed to avoid security for a whole half an hour after the museum closed for the night.”

“Of course you did,” Jake said. “Anyways, thank you so much for your help, sir, I really appreciate it.”

“If you really appreciated it, you would have your paperwork on my desk on time,” Holt replied.

“You know what, fair.”

———

After finishing his overdue paperwork and all of his new paperwork for the day, Jake took Amy to the Museum of Modern Art and led her to the exhibit Captain Holt had told him about. The grin on her face rivaled the brightness of the lights in the building, and Jake was in… well, he had a heck of a lot of mushy feelings about it.

“How did you know I’ve wanted to come here ever since they announced this exhibit a few months ago? I never mentioned it to you,” Amy asked.

“I just know you that well, babe,” Jake replied, only feeling a smidge of guilt for taking credit for Captain Holt’s recommendation.

“Captain Holt told you about it, didn’t he?” Amy said, crossing her arms and turning to Jake.

“Okay, yeah, but still! I know you well enough to ask Captain Holt for recommendations!” Amy’s eyes narrowed, but her smile remained, letting Jake know she was joking. “Come on, let’s look at the fancy paper!”

“Stationery, babe,” Amy corrected.

“Fancy paper!” Amy rolled her eyes as they entered the exhibit.

———

Jake managed to feign enthusiasm for the first hour or so (he even felt it genuinely for a little while because Amy bled excitement as she explained each and every piece of stationery to him), but once he realized how much longer they had to go before finishing the exhibit, he felt his carefully controlled expression start to slip a little bit. He liked Amy a lot, and he wanted to enjoy this for her, but he just couldn’t. Still, he planned on enduring Amy’s long explanations for as long as she wanted to stay, because this date was for her and he was determined not to somehow mess it up.

“You’re bored, aren’t you,” Amy said after a while.

“What? No.”

“You keep staring out into space and saying ‘uh huh’ every three seconds.”

“I was contemplating the beauty of this piece of fancy paper!” Jake insisted, gesturing at the piece that Amy was explaining. Or at least, the one he thought she had been explaining.

“Well, I was talking about this piece,” Amy said, tilting her head toward the one adjacent to the one Jake had been referring to, “so clearly you weren’t listening.”

Jake looked down at the floor, unable to look Amy in the eye. “I’m happy to see that you’re so interested, and I love… listening to you talk for hours on end about whatever you want, I’m just really not that interested in stationery. But really, we can stay as long as you want, I don’t mind. Keep talking to me.”

“No, Jake, I can’t do that to you. You’ve already stuck this out with me long enough. I can just come back another time on my own; you know I have a membership.”

“Ames —”

“Really, Jake, it’s okay,” Amy said, linking her arm with Jake’s. “Let’s go home and watch a movie or something and go to bed early.”

“Okay,” Jake said. “But only if you’re sure.”

“I’m sure.”

Jake had never felt this much guilt in his life.

“Hey, Jake?” Amy said as she slid under the covers of her bed later that night. “I really appreciate what you’ve been trying to do for me by taking me on all of these sweet dates and making our first summer together extra special. But really, babe, I’m just happy being with you. You don’t have to put so much pressure on yourself.”

“But Ames, I managed to ruin every single one of those dates. You deserve better than five disaster dates in a row,” Jake replied, eyes turning down toward his lap in humiliation.

“Jake, I’m serious. Stop doing this to yourself.” Jake looked up at Amy and they locked eyes in silent communication of mutual adoration for a moment before Amy reached over and took Jake’s hand in hers. “You don’t have to prove that you deserve me or anything. I just want to spend time with you and enjoy our first summer as more than coworkers. Can we do that?”

“Yes, Amy, we can do that.” He squeezed her hand, and she squeezed back.

“But hypothetically,” he continued, their hands still intertwined, “if I were to take you on another date to really make up for all of the other ones this time, what would you want to do together?”

Amy smiled. “Thank you for asking, Jake. I was thinking we could plan a beach getaway for next weekend. I already have an itinerary all ready to go in this binder.” She reached into the drawer in the bedside table next to her and pulled out a thick binder titled Jake and Amy’s Beach Getaway, handing it to Jake, who opened it carefully.

“Ames, why didn’t you tell me about this?” He flipped through the pages, smiling at Amy’s thoughtfulness. She’d really thought of everything - boardwalk rides and arcade games for Jake, relaxing and reading on the beach for Amy, and massages for the both of them. Jake’s heart was full.

Amy shrugged. “I was waiting for the right time, I guess. I didn’t want to interfere with the dates you’d already planned.”

“We could have done this ages ago! I’ve been asking the squad for date ideas for weeks because everything that I thought of was along the same lines as the Die Hard drive-in idea.” Amy laughed. “I wish you’d mentioned this earlier, but I’m excited for us to make it happen now.”

“Me too, Jake.”

———

Thankfully, Captain Holt granted Jake and Amy’s request to take the next weekend off, and together they drove to the beach house they’d rented for the weekend. They’d made a playlist before they left, and they’d spent the drive singing along terribly to Carly Rae Jepsen and Sara Bareilles and a bunch of random 80s songs that Jake had added.

After what felt like ages but was really just a few hours, Jake and Amy lay next to each other on the beach, enjoying the warm sun and the clear blue sky. It was surprisingly less crowded than Jake expected it would be on a Friday afternoon, but it gave them plenty of space on the beach, so Jake wasn’t complaining. Later, they planned to walk the boardwalk together and waste some money on the fun but endlessly stupid arcade games, and Jake couldn’t wait to win some giant stuffed animals for Amy.

She’d been right, of course. This was the perfect date, the perfect way to celebrate their first summer together as a couple. Jake should have asked her what she was thinking from the very beginning instead of trying to be romantic and plan everything himself. There were many benefits to dating an extreme planner like Amy, and this was definitely one of them.

Jake leaned over and nudged Amy awake from the half-asleep state she’d fallen into, kissing her softly. “Thank you for planning all of this for us. I’m so happy to be here with you.”

Amy smiled, lowering her sunglasses for a moment. “I’m so happy to be here with you, too.” She reached for the water bottle next to her and handed Jake the bottle of orange soda he’d bought at the vending machine earlier. “Here’s to our first summer together.” She gently tapped Jake’s bottle with her own.

Jake returned the gesture. “Here’s to hopefully the first of many.”

They each took a sip.

#original #fanfiction #b99 summer 2020 fic exchange #b99fandomevents #brooklyn nine nine #peraltiago #jake peralta #amy santiago #charles boyle #terry jeffords #rosa diaz #captain raymond holt #fluff #canon compliant #early relationship #jake loves amy but is too afraid to say it yet!!!#5+1 things #disaster dates #jake loves carly rae jepsen and die hard

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xoxobuckybarnes · 4 years

Text

Sunscreen

New fic for the #B99Summer2020FicExchange / @b99fandomevents that I wrote for @meepmorpperaltiago. You can also read it on AO3.

I hope you enjoy it!

Prologue

Amy Santiago always wears SPF 30. She always reapplies her sunscreen every hour, exactly. She is intentional in her application, making sure that she applies sunscreen to every inch of her body that will be exposed, or could potentially be exposed, to the sun. If she goes in the water, she makes sure to reapply sunscreen the moment she dries off, and still keeps to the original hour schedule. Her mother had taught her how important it was to take care of her body, and that included her skin. To Amy, it wasn’t worth the risk to not be so deliberate with her sunscreen use.

Jake Peralta, on the other hand, is more liberal with his use of sunscreen. Growing up, his mother didn’t always remember to bring sunscreen to the beach, and when she did have any, it was never more than SPF 10. She encouraged Jake to get as much sun as possible, because it was good for the soul. Sure, after the beach, he needed a lot of aloe and ibuprofen and Gatorade, but he thought it was worth it. As an adult, Jake forgoes sunscreen altogether. He always ends up with a burn, but his red skin darkens pretty quickly, so he doesn’t really mind.

Amy can’t imagine being with someone who doesn’t understand the importance of wearing sunscreen. She figures that anyone who isn’t as intense about sunscreen as she is doesn’t respect their body. But then she meets Jake Peralta, and she understands that it’s okay that others don’t value sunscreen as much as she does. With time and patience and a little coaxing, the one she loves can come to value sunscreen as much as she does.

June 2015

They’ve been dating for about a month when they finally both have a day off. It’s early in the morning in late June. It’s sunny and humid and already over 80°.

“Let’s go to the beach,” Amy suggests as they sit at her kitchen counter, sharing a bowl of cubed watermelon and sipping on glasses of iced green tea. Despite the fan blowing on them at full blast and wearing shorts and a tank top, Amy still feels like she’s drenched in sweat.

“Yes,” Jake pants, using a napkin to wipe the sweat off his forehead.

Amy packs up a bag with a blanket, towels, sunscreen, travel Scrabble and a football, and a cooler full of fruit (more watermelon, peaches, pineapple chunks, apples), granola bars, Gatorade, and water bottles, as Jake runs home to change into his swimsuit. They meet back up at the subway station and take the train to Coney Island.

They find a spot that’s not too crowded. Amy lays out the blanket, and Jake places their shoes, the cooler, and the tote bag on the corners to keep the blanket from blowing away. Jake rips off his shirt and lays face down on the blanket.

Jake can feel Amy sitting next to him and he turns his head so he can look at her. He watches as she rubs sunscreen on her arms and legs. She’s struggling as she tries to reach her back, but she doesn’t say anything. Jake chuckles as he watches her. She either doesn’t notice him chuckling, or she chooses to ignore him, because she continues trying to reach her back.

Jake sits up. “Here, let me help you.”

“Thanks,” Amy says, her shoulders relaxing.

Jake shifts his body so that he’s sitting behind her, his legs on either side of her. He picks up the bottle of sunscreen and squirts a dime-size amount into his palm. He rubs his palms together a few times, before placing his hands on Amy’s shoulders. He rubs his palms down and across her back, slowly, deliberately. He reaches the small of her back and hears her sharp intake of breath.

Jake scoots back and whispers, “You’re good.”

“You need help?” Amy asks as Jake slides back over to his side of the blanket.

“Nah, I’m good,” Jake says, shaking his head and leaning back, resting on his elbows.

“What do you mean ‘I’m good?’” she asks.

“I don’t use sunscreen,” Jake explains.

“What do you mean you ‘don’t use sunscreen?’”

Jake shrugs. “I just don’t use it.”

“Jake!” Amy exclaims. “You need to take care of your skin.”

“Oh, I don’t mind the sunburn. My skin darkens pretty quickly. It’s all good.”

Amy gently slaps his arm. “No, it’s not all good. All this unprotected exposure to the sun could lead to skin cancer or other health problems. You have to take care of yourself.”

Jake nods and then rolls his eyes. “Fine.”

Amy crawls over to sit behind him as he sits back up. She squirts sunscreen directly on his shoulders and back, causing him to shiver from the sudden coolness. He feels a little pressure as she begins to rub the sunscreen into his shoulders. Her hands meet in the middle and one hand reaches up to spread sunscreen on the back of his neck. Her hands run down his back, on his sides, down to his waist.

Jake and Amy have stupid good sex when they’re together but, having her spread sunscreen on him is a whole new level of intimacy. He’s enjoying having her hands all over his body. However, on top of the physical closeness of this action, there’s something deeper to it. It’s the reason why her hands are all over him – she cares so much about him, that she wants him to do things to take better care of himself. And he cares so much about her, that he’s willing to do these little things. It’s what make his relationship with Amy unlike any relationship he’s every been in before – the fact that he cares so much about her.

He no longer feels her hands on his back. He leans back until his back meets her chest. She wraps her arms around him, kissing his check before resting her head on his shoulder.

“Ames, thanks for caring so much about me,” he says softly, barely able to get the words out because he’s feeling so emotional.

“Of course,” she responds, pulling him in closer to her, kissing his check again.

They stay that way for a while, Jake feeling comforted by Amy’s embrace. Eventually, she lets go and carefully pushes him off of her. “You need to finish putting on sunscreen.”

Jake beams. He picks up the bottle of sunscreen and squirts it into his palm. He rubs the sunscreen on the rest of his body as he watches her crawl back to her spot on the blanket next to him. He’s not paying attention at all to what he’s doing, he’s so enamored by Amy.

Once he thinks he has sufficiently covered his body in sunscreen he stands up, offering his hand down to Amy, who takes it and stand up with him.

“C’mon.”

He leads her down to the water. They wade in, until the water is up to their knees. Jake turns and looks at Amy, who’s looking back at him, glowing. She steps closer to him, and he pulls her into his side.

“You know I’m going to make you put more sunscreen back on the moment we get out of the water, right?”

Jake laughs. “I know.”

And with that, he lets go of her and dives into the approaching wave. When he pops back up to the surface, he turns and sees Amy still standing in the same spot, giggling.

He knows deep within his heart, that he’ll put on as much sunscreen as she wants him to for the rest of his life. And he’s cool with that.

May 2018

So, their honeymoon had gotten off to a rough start. Really, how many people had to experience their honeymoon with their boss? But Holt had finally accepted the (temporary) loss of his dream to be commissioner and went back to Brooklyn, leaving Jake and Amy to enjoy their honeymoon, just the two of them.

Amy exits the bathroom of their hotel room to find Jake frantically rummaging through their bags.

“Babe, what’s wrong?”

He answers her without looking up, moving on to the next bag. “I can’t find any sunscreen.”

Amy laughs, remembering the start of their relationship, when she had to explain to him the importance of wearing sunscreen. Now look at him, taking initiative. They’ve certainly come a long way.

She pulls one of their bags out from under the bed. “I have some here.”

Jake relaxes, releases a sigh of relief. “Oh, good.”

He reaches to take it from her, but she snaps it out of his reach at the last second. She shakes her head in disbelief, “Who are you?”

He pretends to pout. “Babe, I’m your husband.”

He barely has the word “husband” out of his mouth before the pout transforms into the widest grin Amy’s ever seen.

Amy grins back. “You’re my husband!”

“I’m your husband! I love saying that! I love you!”

Amy drops the sunscreen on the bed and steps closer to Jake. She slowly slides her arms around his waist and he wraps his arms around her neck. She looks up at him and whispers, “Remember when we had just started dating, and I had to convince you to wear sunscreen? And now look at you, stressing over where the sunscreen is. Look at how much has changed since we started dating. I love you more and more each and every day.”

Jake leans down and rests his forehead to Amy’s. “Amy Santiago, you make me a better person. And I love every minute of being with you. I love you.”

Amy places a soft peck on each of his cheeks, before kissing him on the lips. She starts to pull away from him, but he tightens his embrace. She allows him to lead her closer to the bed. She continues to kiss him as she sits on the bed, and then leans back. He crawls on top of her.

Clothes are being pulled off and thrown around the room as Jake and Amy momentarily ditch the plan to go the beach, choosing instead to enjoy each other’s company.

An hour later, they’re lying in bed, panting, Jake’s head resting on Amy’s chest as she plays with his hair.

“Ames…”

“Jacob Peralta, love of my life…”

Jake shifts his body so that he can look up at her, and her heart skips a beat at the sight of the smile on his face.

“You still want to go to the beach?” he asks.

“I guess we should, we did spend all this money and came all this way. Perhaps we shouldn’t be a cliché and spend the whole honeymoon in the hotel room,” she responds.

Jake rolls out of the bed and Amy follows him. They put on their swimsuits and Jake starts to apply sunscreen to himself. Amy watches as he struggles to spread the sunscreen on his back. She walks over to him and places her hand on the small of his back and leans to whisper into his ear. “Here, let me help you.”

Amy takes the bottle of sunscreen away from Jake and squirts some onto his back. She takes her time, slowly rubbing it into his back, making sure to get every inch of his body covered. She bites her lip as he groans when she applies a little pressure, her fingertips pressing into his skin along his waist. He leans back against her and she begins to press kisses into his back, up his neck, nibbling at his ear while she plays with his hair.

“Ames…” he growls.

Jake reaches behind him to touch Amy, and she presses her whole body against him.

“Jake…” she hums.

An hour later and they find themselves panting on the bed again, nowhere closer to the beach.

Amy’s resting her head on Jake’s chest as she lays on top of him, her legs straddling his. “Are we a cliché?” she asks as she traces circles slowly into his bicep, pressing another kiss into his chest.

“Hmmm,” Jake moans. “Maybe.”

Why is it that there’s the cliché that newlyweds never leave the hotel room on their honeymoon? Amy thinks about how she’s feeling, right in this moment: pure bliss. She’s so in love with her husband. And while they’re not new to having sex or being intimate, there’s something different now that they’re married. They just declared their love in front of all their friends, the people who are the most important to them in the world, and she knows how privileged they are to share this love. It’s that their relationship has grown, in a way that none of their previous relationships ever did. It’s that they make each other better, and their marriage is proof of that. So that’s why she accepts being a cliché – because their relationship has reached a new deepness, a new level of commitment, a new intimacy, that so many dream of realizing, and they want, no, need, to celebrate it.

Amy presses kisses up his chest, up his neck, along his chin, back to his lips. “I guess there’s a reason that not leaving the hotel room is a honeymoon cliché.”

“I say, let’s just go with it,” Jake says, kissing Amy back.

“The beach will be there tomorrow,” she shrugs, kissing Jake’s chin, and his chest, continuing down, down, down.

“The beach will be there tomorrow…” Jake gasps.

Amy accepts her and Jake being a cliché as they start in on their third round before noon.

August 2020

If he could have had any say in it, Jake would not have chosen to have his son be born at the beginning on a world-wide pandemic. Alas, though, he had no control over these things, and his son spent his first few months of life quarantined, sheltered from the outside world. Perhaps, it wasn’t a completely terrible thing – his son was very healthy, being isolated from the millions of germs that were typically unavoidable in New York City.

By August though, things were slowly beginning to open up again, with precautions set into place. After much debate, Amy and Jake came to the decision that it would be good for Mac to have an experience outside of their small NYC apartment. And so, they packed up the car and drove out to a tiny, rented beach house in the Hamptons, where they could have access to a private beach for Mac’s first excursion into the real world.

Mac is in his carrier on top of the kitchen counter, as Jake sits in the stool in front of him, holding a bottle of baby sunscreen. Jake scrunches up his eyebrows. The warning on the back of the bottle says not for children under six months.

“Ames?” he calls out. “I’m confused.”

“What’s wrong babe?” she asks as she joins Jake in the kitchen, still wearing her pajamas. She wraps one arm around Jake’s shoulders and tickles Mac’s tummy, laughing along with him.

“So, we can’t put sunscreen on Mac?”

“No, he’s too little,” she states.

“Well, how do we keep him safe from the sun?”

Amy rolls her eyes. “We have this little tent for him to sit in, plus the hat and the sunglasses, and the linen long sleeve top and pants. He’ll be in the shade and completely covered.”

Jake shakes his head and fakes outrage. “But you taught me that we always have to wear sunscreen! You lied to me?”

Amy pulls her arm from around Jake and lifts Mac out of his carrier. “You’re an idiot,” she says with a smirk and a wink as she walks Mac into the bedroom.

Jake follows her into the bedroom, where she’s changing Mac’s diaper on the floor. “Well, if Mac doesn’t have to wear sunscreen, then neither do I,” he declares.

“Fine,” Amy responds. “You’re a grown man, do what you want.”

Jake’s jaw drops open. That was not the response he was expecting from his wife. “Really? You’re not going to lecture me on taking care of my body? You’re not going to tell me that it’s even more pertinent that I take care of my body now that I have a child who’s depending on me? You’re not going to tell me how important it is that I wear sunscreen so that I stay healthy for years and years to come and can have a relationship with my son?”

Amy has finished changing Mac’s diaper and lifts him up as she stands up next to Jake. “No, I don’t need to tell you all that because you just told it to yourself.”

“Damn it,” Jake laughs. He kisses Amy on the cheek and then takes Mac out of her arms so that she can finish getting herself ready for the beach. Five years of being with Amy and clearly, she’s rubbed off on him, in the best way possible. He knows her so well; he knows what she would say before she has to even say it. It’s not even just that he can anticipate her arguments, it’s that he’s come to share some of her beliefs and values. Some of the issues they use to argue over, are nonissues because of her positive influence in his life. She’s seriously the best thing that’s ever happened to him.

Jake looks down at Mac, who’s cooing in his arms. He’s tied with Amy for being the best thing in Jake’s life.

July 2030

In the last few years, it has become a tradition for the Santiago-Peralta family to celebrate the Fourth of July at the beach. They rent a house down in Delaware, just the five of them, for the week. They spend their mornings on the beach, swimming in the waves, throwing a football around, building sandcastles, reading. They spend their afternoons strolling the boardwalk, riding the thrill rides, playing arcade games, browsing in the bookstore and antique shops, filling up on fudge, and taffy, and cotton candy. On the Fourth of July, Jake barbeques hot dogs and hamburgers and ribs, and corn on the cob and zucchini and tomatoes, and they sit on the front porch watching the fireworks over the ocean. It’s always such a fun time and they look forward to it, all year long.

They arrive at the house late at night on June 30, so they unpack and head right to bed. They wake up early Monday morning, ready to walk down to the beach by 8am. Jake drags a wagon, filled with sand toys, a football, a frisbee, a volleyball, a soccer ball, paddles and a rubber ball, cornhole, two beach chairs, three umbrellas, and five-year-old Ginny. Amy drags a wagon filled with two coolers (one filled with water, Gatorade, lemonade, iced green tea, apple juice, and capri suns, the other filled with sandwiches, pretzels, apples, oranges, peaches, plums, watermelon chunks, pineapple chunks, granola bars, and cookies) and tote bags filled with towels, blankets, sunscreen, bug spray, books, travel scrabble, travel Guess Who, and a portable radio. Ten-year-old Mac and eight-year-old Trey walk in between Jake and Amy, carrying their boogie boards.

“You think we have enough stuff?” Jake turns around and asks Amy.

“Obviously, we’re moving to the beach,” Amy jokes.

Everyone pitches in to help set up once they arrive at the beach, putting down blankets (with flipflops and coolers on the corners to hold them down), setting up the beach umbrellas and chairs. Amy pulls out the sunscreen, getting ready to lather everyone up.

Ginny’s still young enough that she just listens to Amy and Jake, and allows her mother to put sunscreen on her without a fight (plus, it helps that the kid’s sunscreen Amy uses comes out of the bottle purple). And Mac, is just like a mini Amy, so he puts the sunscreen on without even having to be told to.

But Trey… well, Trey is like a mini Jake. He likes to have fun, to push the boundaries.

“I don’t want to,” Trey whines when Amy tells him it’s his turn to put on sunscreen.

“Well, it’s not a choice,” Amy states.

“But, why?”

“We have to protect ourselves from the sun,” Amy explains.

“But, the sun is so far away,” Trey counters.

“Well, it’s still harmful.”

“I don’t get it,” Trey shrugs.

Amy’s at a loss as to what to say to Trey. She’s still tired from traveling last night and can’t think of a way to explain to an eight-year-old why he needs sunscreen. She turns to look at Jake, but he and Ginny are already in the sand, building a castle, and she’d hate to interrupt their fun.

“Trey…” she starts, but Mac cuts her off.

“You know what Trey; the sun is far away. But it’s super strong, like stronger than Superman. And, the sun has rays, that can really hurt your skin. But, it doesn’t hurt you right away. And you can’t see it hurt you. And the only thing that can protect you, is sunscreen. It’s like, Batman wears his batsuit to give him superpowers against the Joker, and the Penguin. Well, we wear sunscreen and it gives us superpowers against the sun.”

“Woah!” Trey responds.

Amy smiles, amused. Of course, relate anything to superheroes, and you can make an eight-year-old do it. As she applies sunscreen to Trey, she thinks of how proud she is of Mac. He’s such an amazing older brother. Honestly, she’s proud and amazed by all her kids; they’re such incredible little humans.

She finishes applying sunscreen to Trey, and he and Mac are off, running down to the water with their boogie boards. Amy quickly applies sunscreen to herself before she follows them down to the water. She stands up to her knees, allowing the waves to crash on her thighs, as she watches Mac and Trey race back and forth in the water, occasionally trying to use their boogie boards to ride the waves. She turns back and looks at Jake, sitting in the sand, allowing their daughter to take charge in the building of a sandcastle. Jake looks back at Amy and waves, beaming back at her.

Amy knows she is so lucky. She has an amazing husband, and with him, they made the three best kids anyone could ever ask for.

Epilogue

Jake Peralta almost never wore sunscreen. That is, until he started dating Amy Santiago. She was cautious in the sun and taught him to be cautious too. She taught him to value his body and to protect it. These were values that they passed along to their children.

Never, in a million years, would Jake Peralta have thought that sunscreen would play such an important part in his life, in his love life, in his family. But, the fact that it does, just goes to show how powerful love is.

#B99 Summer 2020 Fic Exchange #b99 fandom events #Brooklyn Nine Nine #b99 #Jake and Amy #fanfic #@meepmorpperaltiago

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