#b99 fall 2019 fic exchange

[amydancepants-peralta]

one love, one house (no shirt, no blouse)

Oh hi again, @kamekamelea!  Being the glutton for punishment that I am, I bring you a 2nd fic for the B99 2019 Fall Fic Exchange, by @b99fandomevents.  

This is one is rated E, and is NSFW.  🙊

(It’s also a little long ... you could say I got carried away.  It’s on AO3 if you prefer) 😅

one love, one house (no shirt, no blouse)

From the safety of her bed, a fourteen weeks pregnant Amy Santiago listens to the rustle of fallen leaves on the street below as the wind outside begins to pick up.  The sound mingles with hints of laughter as a group of women vacate the Thai restaurant across the road; twisting with their neighbour two floors up as they adhered to their nightly violin practice schedule.  There is a crossword puzzle in her hands, clutched mainly in aid of distraction, but she hasn’t been able to concentrate on the words for close to an hour now.

She listens as their front door opens, the familiar jingle of her husband’s keys dropping into the bowl by the door, landing on top of her own.  He calls out her name as he passes through the living room, and when she calls back Amy can hear the hesitation in her voice, cringing at the sound.  

Jake smiles when he sees her, because he always does and it makes her love him all the more, leaning in for a quick kiss while she stays laying on the bed.  She can taste a familiar trace of a bottle of Heisler, remnants of after work drinks with Boyle, and she smiles at him when he pulls away, hand resting briefly against his chest before dropping back to the comforter with a thud.  Today had been her day off, and she had played the growing a tiny human card earlier this morning when Jake had gotten up for work, smiling and burrowing further into their ridiculously warm comforter when he had kissed her on the forehead before leaving.  Even with the texts they’d sent each other throughout the day, and all the swirling thoughts in her head, Amy could feel herself resetting now that he was back in front of her.  

He’s moved to the shower now, a tuneless rendition of a Taylor Swift song carrying through the walls of their apartment, and distractedly she hums along to the melody. 

The wind outside builds, curtains dancing against the force of the breeze as the streetlights leak into their bedroom, causing Jake’s badge to glint from where it sits in its usual place on their dresser.  He’d noticed her melancholic silence as he’d prepared for his shower, and she knew that he was giving her the space she needed.  But now the taps in their bathroom were being shut off, and Amy was very conscious that it wouldn’t be long before he’d be back, prepped and ready to listen.  If only she could figure out what to say.

Her eyes fall on the polaroid of the two of them that had been sitting on their dresser for years now: a candid of the two of them one year in, at a party thrown by Mike, Jake’s old buddy from his days at the academy.  He’d captured them mid-laugh, Amy’s arm resting comfortably around Jake’s neck as she grins; Jake’s already snaked around her waist, scarcely any space between them.  They were drunk, happy, and completely in love, and Mike had grabbed a marker and written ‘this is for good’ along the bottom of the photograph before handing it over to them with a wink.  The smile Jake had given her that evening, as he tucked the photo safely away into his jacket, had pushed her heart into double time.  He’d placed it carefully up against the mirror that very evening, before returning to her side to peel off the dress the way he’d been whispering the whole night, and Amy knew that Mike was absolutely correct.  This was for good.  For better, for worse.  No matter what.

To think that it had been over four years since that evening, and that they still looked at each other  the way they did in that photograph, filled her with such happiness that for a moment Amy felt ridiculous for feeling the way she did.  But pregnancy, she was learning, came with a whole typhoon’s worth of emotions, and some were harder to ignore than others.

She gives Jake a sympathetic wrinkle of her nose as he walks back into their bedroom, the fatigue of the day obvious in the drop of his shoulders.  His face is partially hidden behind a towel as he rubs it through his wet hair one last time, and once free he glances over at her with a pensive gaze.  Without thinking, Amy grabs the edges of the sweater she was wearing and tugs it downwards.  He notices, brows furrowing as he tosses the towel into the laundry hamper in the corner, and she feels a pang of guilt run through her.  

Changing the topic, Amy puts on her best smile.  “Long day at work?”

He rolls his eyes as the memory flashes back.  “You could say that.  Remember that collar I was telling you about a few weeks ago - the serial car thief?”

She nods, eyes turning curious.

“He’d made bail, and his court session was today.”

“Okay?”

“Terry and I were waiting out front for our coffees, and he rolled up to the courthouse while we were there.  In another stolen car.”

“ ….  wow.  You really can’t fix stupid.”

Jake sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose - an old habit she knew he used to remind himself to breathe through his frustrations.  “So not only did I have to sit through his hearing, I then had to take him back down to the precinct so that I could book him for additional acts of crime he’d committed while on bail.  Only to then escort him back to the watch house, because he was most definitely found guilty of his previous charges.”

Amy pouts her lower lip in sympathy, using the restless energy in her hands to twirl her hair around her index finger.  “Did he even have an excuse for the second stolen car?”

He smiles, shaking his head in disbelief as he repeats the sentence he’d heard earlier that day.  “Apparently his ‘real’ car had broken down, and he knew it super important to make it to court if he didn’t want to get into more trouble.”  He raises his fingers for air quotations.  “So, he had ‘borrowed’ another car, a block from his house.  He was, and I quote - ‘Totes gonna give it back, bro.’  An honest thief, if you will.”

“Ha.  That’s an oxymoron if I ever heard one.”

“Yeah, an oxymaroon for sure,” he mispronounces the word, and Amy finds it too endearing to correct.  Choosing instead to fall silent, hair twisting tighter around several of her fingers now, it only takes another moment before Jake has stopped at the end of their bed.  

“What’s going on, Ames?”

Amy wriggles her body on the mattress, resisting the urge to pull on the edge of the sweater again as she looks up at Jake.  She can feel her cheeks heat up under his gaze, and she gives a helpless shrug.  Using the nickname she and her husband had named their baby, she mumbles - “Peanut kinda popped a little today.”

His eyebrows jump at her answer, face brightening at the mention of their growing family.  The excitement that crosses his face every time they speak about their baby is incredibly endearing, and makes Amy feel all the more ridiculous for what she’s about to say.

“She popped?” Jake repeats, mattress dipping slightly as he sits along the edge of her side of the bed.

“He or she popped,” she corrects with a smile.  They didn’t know the sex of their baby, and were keeping it a surprise, but they’d only been seven weeks in when her husband had declared with Absolute Certainty that they were having a girl.  The countdown on her phone told her that today made fourteen weeks, and with that came a bump on her previously (relatively) flat stomach.

Amy had stood in front of their floor length mirror earlier that evening, the sweater she had long since stolen from her husband’s drawer rucked up around chest, eyes narrowing as they roamed the expanse of her body, pausing again and again on the swell of her abdomen.  There was a definite curve to her stomach, a swelling similar to when Jake had won a pizza eating contest at their favourite local restaurant, gripping his prized red hoodie against his bloated belly with one hand and her hand in his other as they’d walked home, moaning as she reminded him of the need to walk off the overload of carbs he’d just consumed.

None of it should have come at any surprise - the Week Fourteen tab in the Second Trimester Binder had warned her several days ago, in fact, that protrusions would start to become obvious as her inner muscles began to stretch to accommodate her and Jake’s baby.   But it turned out that all the preparation in the world couldn’t account for seeing it all happen in real time - and if she was being completely honest with herself, Amy was having a little difficultly in accepting the change.

All rules of science aside, it truly was a little miracle that her body was capable of doing this - of creating life - and part of her is torn between the idea of pressing fast forward so that she and Jake can meet their child sooner rather than later, or pressing pause and having the chance to really treasure these moments.  But the memory of Gina at her baby shower, resplendent in her position of front and centre, her stomach stretched beyond watermelon size as Milton dutifully rubbed her back, keeps flashing into Amy’s mind.  It seems almost impossible, but she supposes it is actually inevitable, that her body will change just as much.  

Jake’s hand falls to the other side of her on the bed, the stretch of his arm highlighting the subtle curve of his bicep as it peeked out from his grey bed-shirt.  His concern at her silence was obvious, and Amy gives him a tiny smile, running a quick debate in her mind over whether she should tell him what was really on her mind.  It’s over in a flash, because if there’s anything she’s sure of, it’s that there is nothing that she can’t tell him, and there was a good chance he already knew.  He had grown incredibly intuitive to her thoughts over their years together, a skill that both frustrated her and made her love him all the more.  She raises her left hand, running her fingers along the arm that stayed relaxed against his side, smile growing larger as he shifts until their fingers link together.

 “It’s just …”  his brown eyes take on that doe-eyed look that never fails to weaken all her defences, and just like that, Amy says how she really feels.  “My body is changing, and I don’t feel like myself.”  

He blinks.  “I mean, I know I’m the least science-y one in this relationship, but I feel like we kinda knew that was going to happen?”

Amy begins to chew on her bottom lip slightly.  “Yeah.  It’s all tracking perfectly with the timeline I put together.  I’m a little ahead of things, actually.”

“Santiago style.” He responds with a wink before turning serious.  “But … you’re not enjoying it?”

She shakes her head.  “It’s not that.  I love that I’m carrying our baby, Jake.  Honestly, I’m so, so excited to meet our little one.  I just …” her hand releases his, resting against her bump instead.   “I wasn’t expecting to feel this way.  Like I’m changing, and there’s nothing I can do about it.  For the first time ever, I can’t control what my body is doing.”  Her voice drops to a mumble, eyes squeezing shut.  “And maybe you’re not going to find me attractive as everything keeps growing.”

Her confession is met with silence, and reluctantly Amy opens one eye, looking up at Jake.  He meets her eyes with a confused blink, bending his elbow as he leans in closer.

“Here’s the thing, Ames - and I will tell you this as many times as you need to hear it, for however long you need to hear it, and I’m so sorry that you’ve ever had to doubt this.  But I fell in love with you for who you are, and not the body you’re in.”  

Amy releases a breath that she hadn’t realised she’d been holding, eyes turning misty as she listens to Jake talk.  

“You are the love of my life, Amy Santiago, and it is entirely because of the beautiful soul you have.  And let me tell you - I am always, always going to find you amazing.  No matter what.  And you are literally the sexiest person I’ve ever met.  Your incredible mind, and ever-growing heart, make you this unstoppable force that never fails to make my brain short-circuit.  And the fact that you are now carrying my child?”  He pauses, shifting until his left hand is resting on top of hers, covering her bump.  “Oh my god.  Just … your body is magic, you are magic, and I’m still stunned, after all this time, that you chose me.”

She blinks, the tears beginning to fall, their path shortened by Jake’s gentle hand wiping them away.  Resting her hand along the curve of his neck, Amy pulls her husband closer, meeting his lips with her own as she tries to pour all the gratitude she has for him into one kiss.  It’s not enough, because one kiss could never be enough to show it all, and he leans closer again as they meet for another, lips parting for more.  

The fading taste of the Heisler, mixed with the usual scent of his shower gel, was proving to be strangely intoxicating and Amy moves her hand up towards his hairline, carding through while her grip tightens, pulling Jake closer.  He lets out a contented sigh into her mouth, moving closer until his arms are underneath and he’s holding her close. 

His eyes are cloudy when they finally pull apart, blinking in a daze, and Amy smiles in satisfaction.  Even after thousands of kisses, she still managed to send him crazy, and she knows that what he said earlier was true.  Jake as going to love her, no matter what - just as she would love him, through the darkest of skies.  What they had was a forever kind of love.  

Hooking her finger into the neckline of his shirt, Amy tugs until he shifts, mattress sinking as his legs end up on either side of hers, muscles flexing as his lowers to his knees. 

Jake dips, shoulder blades raising as he tucks his head underneath her sweater; a move that he has done a thousand times and still doesn’t fail to make Amy giggle, and she drops her right hand to the bump that his head has created.  His warm breath tickles her skin as he drops kisses to her ribs, the muffled sound of an approving sigh breaking through as he realises she is not wearing a bra.  His hands grip the edge of the sweater as he pulls his head back upwards, Amy’s hand tracing the edge of his jawline as his grinning face becomes visible, so full of affection that her heart just might combust.   

“I love you so much, Jake Peralta.”  Her voice is shaky, the hormones still heavy if not a little quieter, and he blinks slowly before pulling her in for another kiss.  When he finally pulls way, he shifts the bottom of her sweater, pushing it upwards until it rests around her ribcage, her skin shivering slightly from the exposure to the cool night air.  He shuffles down the bed, resting his body weight on his hands as his legs rest against Amy’s, and her hand resets itself to his hairline, the familiar feeling of his curls agains her fingers making her sigh with comfort.

His lips travel up her torso, ever so gentle over the subtle bump, and when he reaches the peak he pauses, looking up at Amy with an indescribable look in his eyes. 

The hand in his hair stops, holding still within the coils as she looks back at him, holding his gaze before breaking the silence.  “Babe?” 

He smiles, a sign of reassurance she holds more valuable than most peoples words, and shakes his head slightly.  “Nothing. Just ...” he drops another kiss to her belly.  “Wow.”

Wow. 

Amy smiles back, the pride and elation obvious as her hand moves through his locks again.  Wow indeed.  This incredible man, with messy hair and earnest eyes and the biggest heart she’s ever known, is the father of her child.  Suddenly, all of her concerns didn’t seem so big.  “Look what we made, Jake.  You and I, our love ... we did that.” 

He winks.  “I remember.”

She can feel her face heat up as the blush reaches the tip of her ears, but still she laughs, tipping her head up to meet Jake as he pushes himself towards her, lips meeting hers for a kiss.  It was incredible, the way he threw away all of her fears so easily.  One touch from him, and all of her self-consciousness faded away.  Jake adored her, more than she had ever known to be, and as his hands drop to her waist and reach for the hem of the sweater she lifts her arms up, helping him pull the material away, doing the same with his until there’s nothing in between them.  The swell of her abdomen is more obvious now that there isn’t fabric covering it, but there is enough love shining in his eyes to banish all other thoughts.  

She’s reminded of a night not so long ago when all the schedules and planners and binders had begun to consume Amy, and Jake’s initiation of cuddling on the couch had been met with a distracted point of her fingers towards her meticulously printed out ovulation schedule.  

He’d let out a sigh, nuzzling into her neck and whispering that sometimes sex was just about pleasure, and not procreation (and damn it, he knew that using the proper term was going to send her crazy), before grabbing her notepad and casting it to the side, picking her up and carrying her willingly and giggly into their bedroom.

That night he went down on her for the better part of an hour, pushing her so close to the edge over and over that by the time she finally came undone, her fingers had clawed their bedsheets clear from the mattress.  He absorbed her moans with a kiss that was so full of passion that she felt weak in the knees, the taste of her and him mixing together into the most intoxicating blend.

She had been too exhausted to repay the favour that evening; spaghetti legs stuck to the mattress, but if the sound of her name echoing off the tiles is anything to go by, the blow job she gave him in the shower the next morning well and truly made up for it.  

He had been so insistent on keeping things romantic as they tried to conceive - all the while knowing that the sweetest things were what he was already doing - ie., following her perfectly planned timetable.  Still, he stocked up on candles and body oil, curating SexyTime playlists on his already busy workdays and giving her sympathetic smiles when she would dejectedly add tampons to their shopping list.  And then, one afternoon on the cool tiles of their bathroom floor with nine differently branded pregnancy tests surrounding them, Jake and Amy found out they were having a baby.  And everything since then had been surrounded by excitement, anticipation and curiosity.  

And perhaps, a little trepidation.  He could tell now, before anything had to be said, and he stared into her eyes (into her soul, it felt) before trailing a line of feather-light kisses down her neck, the tip of his nose skirting along the swollen curves of her breasts before heading down towards her edge of her yoga pants.  Dropping gentle kisses to the curve of her abdomen, Jake looked up at her, those chocolate eyes sending her heart into overdrive as she lifted her hips in silent permission, smiling as he peeled away her final layers of clothing.  

Amy had read in various books, and on the occasional website support group, that sex in the second trimester was nothing short of amazing.  

She had been dubious, to say the least.  For the first three months, she had felt anything but sexy.  While a bizarre cocktail of emotions and hormones and thoughts were running through her body, if Amy wasn’t running to the bathroom to throw up, she was thinking about when she could take her next nap.  It had been an interesting beginning to her pregnancy, and while she and Jake hadn’t been celibate the entire trimester, their times together had definitely become less frequent.

Fellow pregnant women, all in various stages of gestation, had raved about how good sex was once you got over the first hump (so to speak).  That everything was working double time down there, that the nerves were on full alert 24/7, and that multiple orgasms were not uncommon.  

This all sounded incredibly appealing to Amy, but if you’d asked her earlier that evening, she probably would have given you a firm shake of her head.  But as she lay on their bed, exposed and yet feeling so protected all the same, Amy realised just how much she had missed these moments.  And perhaps it was the comfort of her husband’s words, or the familiarity of his touch that had flicked her inner switch from normal to horny in 2.5 seconds - whatever it was, she was here for it, and when Jake began a line of kisses along her inner thighs, she could feel it all over her body.  

His caresses move to her centre as her hand travels down, rubbing herself briefly before moving into Jake’s hair and he takes her lead, stroking his tongue against her clit in an achingly slow circle.  Amy moans, bucking her hips towards his mouth, tightening her grip around his strands in reprimand.  He pulls away slightly to look up at Amy, lips tainted with her arousal, and smiles as he slides two fingers deep inside.  

Her head tips back, hair splaying around the pillow as she lets out a satisfied sigh.  Jake knew how to use his fingers so effectively on her, bending knuckles and twisting wrists at just the right moment, that sometimes she finds it insane that they worked together for so many years without her ever knowing just how well he would be able to make her scream.  Whether it was skill, or a mixture of knowing that it’s him and how he makes her feel didn’t matter.  This wasn’t going to take her long, and Amy wanted more, and now.

She moves her hand from his hairline, trailing the pad of her thumb along his profile until her hand is free, crooking her finger towards him in a silent request he is only incredibly willing to honour.  Elbows digging into the mattress as he leans forward, Amy pulls Jake in for a kiss before reaching her left hand for his right, tugging until his fingers are in her mouth.  Her tongue wraps itself around his digits, sucking gently, smiling around his hand as she tastes herself on Jake’s fingers.

He looks at her with such fire in his eyes that Amy can feel the burning within, head dipping down to leave a kiss against her wedding band before pulling his hand free from her mouth and kissing her, hot and deep.  Goosebumps rise onto her skin when he wraps his arms around her, twisting on the mattress until Amy is on top, her hair falling down over their faces as their tongues continue to explore each other’s mouths.      

They’re both breathless when she pulls away, kissing the tip of Jake’s nose with a wink as she shuffles down his body, holding herself deliberately close to his chest until she reaches his boxers.  Fingers toying with the waistband Amy looks up at her husband, his neck craning off the pillow, teeth sinking into his bottom lip, and she smiles as she shifts to the side, pulling the shorts down until his erection springs free.  His legs kick slightly underneath her, shimmying the fabric off completely and her hand moves to grip him, pumping her wrist once or twice before he’s reaching for her waist.

Jake’s fingers dig into her lower back as she allows herself to be pulled forward, and he mumbles “I need to taste more of you,” before encouraging Amy to lower herself completely over his face.  

And OH.

Mother of ALL THAT IS HOLY.

The books were not wrong.  

Amy had already been turned on from Jake’s actions a couple of minutes earlier, but with a single flick of his tongue against her clit her head is thrown back, hair tickling her spine as she lets out a satisfied moan.  She could feel her blood rushing downwards, nerves dialling up to a thousand as he begins tracing patterns against her, alternating between gentle and dominant, and her hips swivel as she leans her hands onto the mattress behind them.  

It wasn’t going to be long - she could feel everything inside her beginning to tingle - and with a heady mind Amy reaches her left hand further back until she’s gripping Jake’s dick in her hand, starting a slow pump from this unfamiliar angle, and the responding moan that comes from his mouth vibrates directly into her.  

His hands hold her thighs steady as Amy begins to gyrate against Jake’s mouth, verbalising her satisfaction in a garbled series of nonsensical words and gasps, her grip tightening before letting go completely as she climaxes.  She stays put for a moment, ribs expanding with each desperate gasp of air, and as she pulls herself back up into a sitting position against Jake’s chest she lets out one final gratified sigh.  

“My god you’re hot,” Jake whispers, hands trailing up and down her waist, and Amy smiles back.

Leaning forwards, she rests one hand along his neck before closing the gap with a kiss.  “I love you so much, Jake Peralta.”  His hand mirrors hers, thumb caressing her jawline as he kisses her back, humming happily against her lips.  

Her legs are beginning to feel weak as the rush of blood slows, and Amy rests her body against the comforter, pulling Jake towards her as she moves.  The weight of him on top of her is comfortable, a welcome warmth from the breeze still blowing through the open window to their right, and he pulls away from another kiss to whisper her name as his legs slide against hers.

It was becoming obvious to Amy how insane she had been to ever doubt the pregnancy books (honestly, why did she ever doubt books?), because the simple act of laying underneath Jake was turning her on all over again.  His cock is hard, pressing up against her aroused clit as he holds her close, trailing kisses up and down her neck the way he likes to in the lead up to the fun stuff, and the subtle movement of Jake’s body against hers was rubbing her in all the right ways.  All she needed was the tiniest of adjustments on her end, tilting her hips just so, and -

She lets out a strangled moan into Jake’s ear, fingers gripping his strands of hair as her body trembles beneath him with orgasm number two.  His breath is hot on her neck as he pulls away slightly, looking down at his wife with an incredulous look on his face.

“Did you just …?”

Her heart is racing and her brow may just be a little sweaty, but Amy nods quickly.  

Jake glances down at where there bodies aren’t yet joined before returning to her face, hips flexing above her as his erection brushes along the tip of her clit again.  Amy’s body jerks in reaction, and he grins.  “But we haven’t even … I mean, I wasn’t trying to - ”

Letting out a quick huff of air, Amy moves her hand to the back of Jake’s neck, pulling him in for a kiss he’s not soon to forget.  “Don’t even think about stopping now, Peralta.”

He smiles, and it’s so sexy it hurts, and already she can feel herself gearing up for another O.  This is amazing.  “Wouldn’t dream of it, Santiago.” he growls into her ear, dropping slightly to gather her wetness around his erection before sliding in, the feeling of him inside her so hot and hard and it’s only been a week or so but oh, how she has missed this.

There’s a persistent tap of water against their window as the rain starts to pour down, the cool air from the still open frame washing over their bodies as Jake and Amy work to create their own heat.  A tiny shiver runs along Amy’s arms and Jake pulls her closer, her legs wrapping around his waist as he begins to move.  He’d been so attentive throughout it all, giving extra focus to the chapters of each book that spoke on sex during pregnancy and checking with her whenever things started to get heated.   Each time had been just that little bit different, her body changing on a weekly basis, and the feeling of him inside of her now, his stomach brushing up against her slightly swollen belly, the life they created together between them was new and exciting and sexy.  

His thrusts are slow to begin, pushing himself in and out of her in even strokes that he replicates with his kiss.  He’s giving her a chance to come down from her climax, she realises, his eyes watching her carefully as he raises himself above her ever so slightly.  And she loves him for it, that he’s still so considerate of her needs despite her orgasm count being two against his zero, but she wants him to feel as incredible as she does, so her legs tighten their grip around him, a non-verbal sign that she knew he would take as a plead for more.

She remembers the very first night they spent together, kisses tasting like kamikaze as Jake’s sheets tangled around their feet.  It had felt so right - like two puzzle pieces who had finally found their other halves - and even though part of her hadn’t been ready to admit it yet, Amy knew that night.  That her and Jake had something, a pull towards each other that was stronger than anything she had ever known.  It’s never faded, and tonight in their bedroom as he rolls their still connected bodies until Amy is on top, she knows that it never will.  

Her hands rest against his chest as she sinks down lower still, taking him in completely as they each let out a soft moan.  Jake moves his hands from her upper thighs to her waist, thumbs rubbing against her skin as they travel up towards her breasts, toying with her nipples as Amy lets out an appreciative groan.  They had become so sensitive in the last couple of weeks, almost to the point where she couldn’t stand the thought of anyone or anything touching them, but it turned out she had just been needing Jake’s hands against her.  Her clit, already throbbing with sensitivity from her previous orgasms, rubbed against Jake’s cock as she began to lift her hips, picking up a rhythm both could enjoy.

The two of them had always fit together so well, but tonight Amy felt so full - so complete, with their baby safely tucked away in her womb - and as she looked down at Jake’s face she knew he was feeling it too.  

His hips thrust upwards to meet hers with every movement and Amy rotates hers from side to side in response, biting her lip with a poorly contained grin when Jake’s responding moan echoes through their bedroom.  Her fingertips dig into his skin when she begins to bear down, already feeling another climax isn’t far away, scraping along his chest while Jake whispers her name repeatedly.  

The reverence in his tone, combined with the heated gaze he was giving her, is enough to send Amy over the edge again, leaning down to place her forehead against his as the sensations became too much.  He cranes his neck upwards to dot her face with kisses, so quick but so tender, and as she comes down from the high Amy pulls back again, draping her hair over one shoulder as she looks down at her husband.  

Later, when they’re catching their breath, Jake will tell Amy that the sight of her riding him, the swell of her growing abdomen glistening with their combined sweat, was one of the sexiest things he’d seen in a long time.  One for the memory bank, he’ll say.  But for now, all Amy can go on is the feeling of Jake’s hard cock inside her, how complete she feels, and how she’s climaxed three times and is ready to feel Jake let go as well.  

Her knees draw closer to his waist as she tightens her thighs around Jake’s pelvis, drawing on all her reserved energy as she increases her pace.  “Come for me, Jake.  I wanna feel you, babe.”

His hands dig into her thighs on either side, a mixed-up version of words and moans the only thing falling from his mouth as Amy pushes harder, slamming down on his cock as her body flutters around him.  One hand snakes around to rest against her clit, thumb rubbing in meaningless circles and - here comes number four - she clenches her muscles around him, pulling him under as he comes with a shout, Amy only a short second behind him as his thumb finally gives her reprieve.

Sheer exhaustion forces Amy to collapse against her husband’s chest, unfocused eyes staring dazedly at the still billowing curtains as her entire body begins to throb.  That had been next level kind of stuff, and if this was what pregnant sex was going to be like, she was absolutely going to have to do that again.  And soon.    

Jake’s voice vibrates through his chest, one hand coming to rest in her hair.  “Holy …” 

Amy’s cheek slides against his pectoral muscles as she smiles, breath still coming out in slow pants as her body twitches further down.  “You said it.”

He chuckles underneath her, other hand resting against her bare butt and squeezing.  “Just when I thought that life with you couldn’t get any more amazing.”

Her responding laugh is breathy and warm against his chest, body shivering slightly as the cool breeze outside picks up now that the rain has subsided.  Without hesitation Jake reaches for the edge of the comforter, lifting as much as he can without disturbing their still joined bodies, throwing the blanket over Amy.  Her head tucks back into his chest, dropping tiny kisses of gratitude against his skin, lips picking up the still racing thump thump thump of his heart.  

They’re silent for the moment, both of them basking in their combined state of bliss, until Jake clears his throat.

“I promise you, Ames.  If you ever start to worry about losing control over how your body looks, or you think that maybe I won’t find you attractive, you can talk to me.  I am here for you, no matter what.  And I am so excited for this future we’ve built for ourselves.  Our family is going to be the best in the neighbourhood - and our kids are going to beat every other kid’s butts.”

Moving her arm until it’s resting underneath her chin, Amy props her head up slightly to meet Jake’s gaze.  That all sounded kind of amazing … but more than one child hadn’t really been discussed any more than the occasional passing comment.  “Kids plural, huh?”

He shrugs slightly, face turning slightly red as a sheepish smile crosses his face.  “I mean, maybe?”

The smile that has yet to leave her face grows wider, and she cocks her head to the side.  “How about we get through this one first, and then talk about the others?”

His responding nod is enthusiastic, drawing a laugh deep from Amy’s chest, and he sweeps a stray strand of hair from her face, tucking it behind her ear.  “Absolutely.  But I should warn you, I do have one fairly convincing argument up my sleeve.”

The competitive edge in her sparks at the words, and she raises one eyebrow in response.  “Is that so?”

He winks, pulling her impossibly closer before replying.  “More than one pregnancy means more chances for us to have more of this crazy, mind-blowing kind of sex.”

Her laughter is captured up in his kiss when Jake pulls her closer, hands moving to rest against her waist to keep her warm and sheltered from the cooling breeze.  She leans back slightly to look over him when they finally break away, head shaking incredulously.  “I may live to regret this, but I’ve gotta say, I’m pretty sure you just convinced me on baby number 2.”

Jake’s face breaks out into a grin, raising his eyebrows when Amy continues.

“But also, I’m going to need more members on my team.  So that we can really kick your ass when it comes to heist time, Peralta.”

The last thing Amy hears is Jake mumbling “Game on, Santiago” before he’s pulling her in for a toe-curling kind of kiss, the embers of her arousal beginning to spark all over again.

Whether they ended up with five children or just the one, their home would be one filled with love, because that was what she and Jake had in spades.  And in all honesty, Amy couldn’t wait to see what their future held.  

#mine #myfic #b99fandomevents #b99 fall 2019 fic exchange #smutfic #Kasia I hope you like this one! #it's long I'm sorry #title of your sextape #peraltiago smut #b99 fanfic #b99fics #b99 fanfics #Jake x Amy fic

[loudamy]

put your head on my shoulder (you and I will fall in love)

Hi @letsperaltiago, I’m your author for the @b99fandomevents fall fic exchange!! I liked all your prompts but decided to combine these two: the squad at the local fall festival, Amy gets lost in the corn maze & Jake comes to find her // Amy wears Jake’s hoodie for the first time. I hope you like it :’)

Read on ao3

It was Charles’s idea. Of course it was.

‘We didn’t get a squad thanksgiving this year.’ he’d wheedled; Holt’s brow had gently creased. ‘The precinct going into lockdown and us all getting trapped there for three hours doesn’t count.’

(‘Feels like it counted,’ Rosa had muttered.)

‘Yes, Boyle has a point.’ Holt had said, and the inflection in his otherwise deadpan tone had given them all pause. ‘What do you suggest, detective?’

‘Captain, nooo,’ Gina had whined, ‘why would you ask Charles to elaborate on that, ever? As if he’s not about to force us all to feed each-other maggot cheese at the puppet museum or something equally horrifying?’

‘Gina. Casu marzu is a delicacy-’

‘Charles. You are no longer invited to suggest things for us to do as a group. Please go home and try again tomorrow.’

It was then that Boyle’s compact little chest had swelled, he’d batted away Gina’s barb with a sharp jut of the chin, and said, ‘But what I was actually going to say, was that there’s a fall festival at Brooklyn Bridge Park this weekend and I think we should go. It’ll be like the beach house again! But without the awkward hot-tub stuff.’

Alright, so admittedly, Amy had initially seen the allure of embracing the onset of autumn with her colleagues.

Sure, she’d miss the ‘Oxford Comma: The Antidote To Grammatical Rigor Mortis’ seminar that she’d spent three weeks on the waiting list for, but that was dust in the wind compared to the opportunity to cosy up to Holt and take their mentorship to the next level.

And maybe the bashful half-smile Jake had given at the notion had twisted her arm a little bit. He always spends Thanksgiving alone; for all his bravado on the matter, Amy knows he cherishes the time the squad share together as friends, whether it be shenanigans in the bullpen or elsewhere.

But now, crammed into the backseat of Terry’s minivan, with Scully on her right, obnoxiously snoring like a jackhammer and completely oblivious to the halo of crusted peanut butter around his mouth, and the raucous chorus of Jake and Charles’ singing (‘Glenda, I love you, you are my number one pick!’), Amy finally understands what hell is.

‘Hey Sarge, are we nearly there yet?’ Hitchcock says. ‘I’ve run out of data and I was only halfway through the movie I was watching. Wink wink.’

Amidst the cacophony of disgusted noises, Terry answers through gritted teeth, ‘No! Hitchcock! You’ve asked that eight times in the last ten minutes. I’ll tell you when we’re nearly there!’

‘Why isn’t Diaz with us?’ says Scully groggily, having blinked himself awake.

‘Because she’s the real detective-slash-genius on this squad and had the sense to get Marcus to drive her in lieu of being packed in here like a sardine.’ Amy says, with a wistful sigh.

‘You forget Captain Holt and Kevin are with them as well.’ says Terry, shaking his head. ‘Listening to those four trying to make small-talk is nearly as painful as muscle fatigue after a break from the gym. Terry hates missing leg day.’

‘Aw, c’mon, Amy, it’s not that bad.’ says Jake, grinning from the backseat. ‘You got to make colour-coded schedules for us, that’s the Santiago equivalent of solving five felonies in a week.’

‘You’ve already used yours to make a paper airplane.’ says Amy, curtly. ‘Which you threw into the windscreen and managed to nick Scully with.’

‘I’m supposed to go to the emergency room straight away if I start bleeding,’ says Scully, perking up. ‘I’m a haemophiliac.’

‘Damn it! Does anyone have any seltzer? I spilled taramasalata down my shirt.’

‘Here, use this.’ Gina tosses a dog-eared wad of paper over to Charles, who begins dabbing erratically at his damp shirt.

‘Gina, was that my itinerary?’ says Amy, grimacing because she already knows the answer.

‘Oh, is that what that was? I thought it was some very sad person’s diary…’

Amy sits back, clamps her eyes shut, and sits on her fingers to resist the urge to stress-braid. In the background, Scully exhales a cloud of noxious digestion fumes and Hitchcock starts unbuttoning his shirt.

x

They traipse into the park in an unruly cluster, and Amy’s mood immediately lifts as the haze of reds, golds and oranges bleed into sight, complemented by the bite of autumn spices that linger in the cool air.

The throng of people thins a little as they step forward, revealing clumsy rows of stalls, selling or offering everything from toffee-apples to pie-eating competitions. The thread of yellowing trees weaves in and out of the park, and there’s something soothing about the distant crisping of foliage.

‘Okay, so Santiago’s highly-specific schedule has us at stall three first for pumpkin carving.’ says Jake, bouncing on the heels of his feet.

‘You memorised the plan?’ Amy says incredulously.

‘Yeah, imagine the ensuing bloodbath if we didn’t follow your meticulously planned schedule. It’d be carnage, Amy, carnage.’ says Jake, but he’s smiling, the kind that of smile that can reach places the sun can’t, and she’s inexplicably touched.

‘Yeaaaah, no. I’ve got plans for today and none of them involve any nerdy crap. Sorry Ames, but there’s a psychic stand over there and I’ve been waiting to find out which of Beyoncé’s tours Dancy Reagan is gonna choreograph for like, months.’ Gina drawls, and before any of them can protest, she’s bobbed out of sight, leaving behind only the faint trace of something Dina Lohan.

‘I was kinda hoping to get to the pumpkin yoghurt stand before it all goes. Terry loves organic dairy.’ the sergeant twangs his suspenders sheepishly, and Amy sighs and waves him off.

‘I wouldn’t abandon you.’ Charles says, eyes bugging in tandem with his enthusiasm. ‘I’m super excited to get through all the things on your list, Amy, I’ve got-’

‘Charles. It’s fine.’ Jake eyes Amy, who shrugs noncommittally. ‘You can go do your elaborate foodie tour.’

‘Oh, thank God,’ Charles huffs, whipping a notepad and pen out of nowhere and palming his tongue experimentally. ‘There’s one hundred and thirty-three food stalls here and I just know the saffron-infused locusts will be selling like hot-cakes.’

He squeaks around on his heel, the balls of his feet barely dusting the ground as he vaults off, just as Jake says, contemplatively, ‘Yeah…no?’

‘Well, we’re free, Amy.’ Scully says cheerily, gesturing to himself and a nodding Hitchcock (whom Amy’s about 97% sure doesn’t know what he’s agreeing to). Scully’s fingers are coated in cookie crumbs and there are three buttons missing on Hitchcock’s shirt and the scent of stale cheese lingers indistinctly about them.

‘Uh, you know what? That’s okay.’ says Amy, with a strained smile, at the same time as Jake goes, ‘I think they’re doing an all-you-can-eat cinnamon doughnuts buffet somewhere over there, guys.’

‘Say no more.’ Scully stuffs his hands into the pockets of his sports coat and twirls cloddishly on the spot. ‘Brought my coat with the most storage space for just this reason!’

So that’s Hitchcock and Scully gone.

Leaving Jake and Amy.

Alone.

Amy coughs and Jake scuffs his right shoe into the earth, muddying the tip. It shouldn’t be awkward, and ordinarily it wouldn’t be, but Amy’s suddenly very viscerally aware that this is the first time she’s been alone with Jake in a non-work situation since the worst double-date in the history of time back in Neustadter.

They haven’t talked about it, and even though he and Sophia called it quits months ago now, it never feels like the right time to broach the subject.

‘Sooooo…pumpkin carving?’ says Jake, and he fixes her with dark, liquid eyes, rich like the first sip of an espresso, and when the light finds them just right, threaded with gold.

It’s okay for her to have these thoughts; she’s reconciled herself to them, now, whether as innocuous as when she’s watching Magnum P.I. and is suddenly struck with a marvellous new insight into their case and toys with texting Jake, imagining the way he might excitedly text back, spewing typos like lava because he’s just as enraptured with the theory as she is –

Or when they’re not quite so innocuous; his fingers might skirt hers as they both go for the elevator button and she fidgets against the little shocks that bite through her at the sensation, the reminder that there’s something lingering in the air between them.

Sometimes it flutters there, light and effervescent in her stomach, when he locks her with that lazy smile, and sometimes it’s merely a fleeting glance from across the bar or the way his hair curls at his forehead, like a vine across those dark eyes, but it sears her, it’s hot and heady and lodges her heart in her throat.

‘Uh…Amy?’

‘What? I wasn’t – no! Um…never mind!’

The words slip off her strangled tongue before she has the foresight to stop them, but she supposes it’s marginally better than, ‘No, Jake, I was not having inappropriate thoughts about you, because we are professional police colleagues’.

‘Okay, weirdo,’ Jake says after a pause, and for a second Amy thinks he’s seen right through her but then his face twists into that familiar smirk.

‘Have you been at the apple cider already? Should I be expecting you to start doing the robot at some point? ‘Cause I need to clear some storage on my phone if so.’

And there it is. Always, always, dancing the line between easy banter between friends and easier flirting. Why do they always get stuck, blurring this line? Why are they both so tentative of whatever unknown territory lies beyond it?

‘Bet I can carve a better pumpkin than you,’ she says, instead.

Jake’s eyes spark; Amy’s heart shudders in her chest. She feels the warm pink hue colour her cheeks, but Jake’s already halfway to the pumpkin stall, midway through gloating about his impending victory, so she follows him without another word.

x

‘Okay, before I show you mine, I want you to know it’s like, sixty nine percent ironic, forty percent awesome.’

‘That doesn’t add up – never mind. Just be prepared to get smoked, Peralta.’

‘On three?’

‘Okay. Three…’

‘…two…’

‘…one!’

Jake spins on his heel and brandishes his pumpkin in a grossly theatrical manner, mouth agape, eyes wide. It’s a pumpkin inside a pumpkin inside a pumpkin; he’s hacked roughly at the orange flesh leaving the smiles more akin to grimaces, but on the whole, not a bad effort at all.

But it’s got nothing on hers.

‘I call it – pumpkinception.’ says Jake proudly, and his grin broadens tenfold when he sees Amy’s smiling.

‘Let’s see yours then.’ he says, hands migrating to his hips, eyebrow cocked, mouth poised provocatively.

‘Just promise you won’t be a sore loser,’ says Amy, folding her arms.

‘I’m an extremely sore loser and you know this already.’ says Jake. ‘Now, gimme.’

Amy steps aside and Jake gawps; his face floods with disbelief, indignation, and finally settles into awe. He’s impressed, and she revels in the little thrill that pulses through her heart at the thought.

‘You’re forgetting I grew up with seven extremely competitive brothers.’ says Amy idly. ‘Every year we just got more and more out-of-hand trying to carve the best pumpkin until one year Luis accidentally sliced off the tip of Manny’s thumb and my mom banned all future competitions.’

‘That is so cool.’ Jake breathes. Then, off her look, ‘I mean, very distressing and emotionally scarring for your family…!’

‘Eh. I won that year.’ says Amy, and the last thing she sees before brushing very deliberately past him is his look of flustered admiration in her wake.

x

Later, when Charles’ palate has been exhausted, and Rosa and Marcus have sloped off somewhere to be mushy and romantic (or, more likely, make out against a tree), and Gina’s run out of Instagram filters to use, the squad manages a hasty rendezvous by a coffee cart.

‘Hey, Amy, look at this, they’ve those froofy frappuccinos you like so much in pumpkin spice – wait,’ Jake pauses and peers around, his face falling when he fails to spot her. ‘Where’s Santiago? She was right next to me like five seconds ago.’

‘Ooh, uh, stuck in traffic. Paying next year’s taxes. Watching paint dry.’ offers Gina.

Jake, ignoring her, turns to Charles, who shakes his head. ‘Haven’t seen her in ages. But by all means, go find her, Jakey. Be her knight in shining armour. Profess your profound love for her with the first sweet, frothy beginnings of a blended beverage-’

‘Alright, I’m gonna go find her.’ Jake interrupts hastily, planting a hand on his hip. ‘Text me if you see her before I get back.’

He scans their immediate surroundings with a furrowed brow, mutters something incoherent under his breath, and takes off in the direction of the blackberry bushes, footfalls coughing a cloud of red dust.

‘Are we really trusting Jake to go find her?’ Terry says, a frown dimpling his forehead. ‘His sense of direction is only so-so.’

‘I agree, it would be far more effective to split the festival into quadrants, form groups and each group search one zone.’ says Holt, abruptly joining their circle, hands intertwined neatly with Kevin’s. ‘But Peralta has already left in a rush, so it seems futile now to do so.’

‘Right.’ Terry says, in a woefully unconvincing tone.

‘We should just leave them be.’ says Charles dreamily.

He blinks himself out of his stupor to see Holt, Kevin, and Gina exchanging a wad of dollar bills.

x

Like things so often do, everything had spiralled from relative normalcy to disaster in a matter of seconds.

One second, she and Jake are trailing behind the squad, loosely picking at chunky handmade jewellery and assorted crafts, her laughing as he pulls on a turkey hat (‘Only twelve dollars! I’m gonna get it!’ ‘It’s awful, Jake.’), him tangibly brightening in response…

The next, she’s surrounded by a haze of corn, treading the same lonely path thirty times over. Her lipstick is dry and cracked about her mouth in the low wind, her eyes tearing a little through the bitter gust (and the prospect of dying in this corn maze, all alone and not yet having demoted her brother David’s portrait to the piano).

And of course, Amy Santiago is perpetually cold, so why should today be any exception? Her fingers are stiffly curled and white at the tips, her hair wrapped miserably around her hollowed cheeks, and the thin coat she’s wearing is doing little to keep out the chill.

She’d literally lagged behind for a moment, having spotted a scarf perfect for her mother’s birthday present, and by the time she’d paid and patted the parcel down neatly in her handbag, Jake and the others had been swallowed by the crowds.

And somehow, she’s ended up circling this stupid corn maze for the last twenty minutes. Every turn she makes seems to lead her into another wheat cluster, thicker and taller than the last.

And it’s so cold that her phone is refusing to turn on.

‘Come on! No!’ Amy moans, banging her fist against the phone screen.

So far, she’s managed to keep the claustrophobia at bay through a combination of practiced breathing exercises and believing that the nine-nine will find her – she knows they won’t leave without her – unless, oh God, they assume she’s hitched a ride back with Rosa and Holt and she ends up stuck in this maze forever –

‘Aaaaaaaaaamy. Amy Santiago. Amy!’

She doesn’t care that he’s being purposely shrill.

She doesn’t care that he’s probably going to tease her about getting lost in a damn corn maze for the next ten years.

She doesn’t even care that she’s never looked more bedraggled in her life.

She’s never, ever, been happier to hear Jake Peralta’s voice.

‘I’m over here!’ she says, fisting through handfuls of corn in search of a familiar leather jacket and shock of curls. ‘Jake?’

‘There you are.’

She spins, hand automatically flying to her hip where she normally keeps her gun, and he’s standing behind her, grinning (predictably) but there’s an undeniable sense of relief in the way his shoulders slump, concern in the way his jaw is tensed.

He reaches her in three long strides.

‘Say, is that a gun in your pocket or are you just happy to see me?’ says Jake, and smiles when she snorts, pulling her dead phone out of her pocket and wafting it in his face.

‘What are you doing in here?’ he asks. ‘I’ve been looking everywhere for you. I even trawled back to that stand with the creepy lady with the scarves-’

‘You came looking for me.’ Amy says, slowly. Jake stops short, eyes roving her face. He looks like he’s thinking hard, and she knows why.

He’s deciding how closely to toe that line.

‘Well, yeah.’ he says eventually. ‘You’re my partner.’

The cold is biting, but Amy feels a swell of affection warming her from the inside.

‘C’mon,’ Jake says. ‘I reckon I saw a shortcut out of here.’

‘I don’t think that’s a good idea,’ says Amy. ‘Let’s just go back the way you came. We don’t want to end up even more lost in here.’

‘Oh, ye of little faith.’ says Jake, shaking his head mockingly. ‘I’ll get us out of here in the next ten minutes, and that’s a Peralta Guarantee.’

x

‘So, Santiago. Lost. What happened to the laminated map and the eight hundred dollar compass?’

‘It wasn’t eight hundred – ugh, never mind. I was trying to find everyone and I somehow ended up here and I couldn’t find my way back. Don’t laugh.’ she warns him, prodding him in the shoulder.

He catches her finger, laughing, and instantly recoils. ‘You’re freezing, Amy.’

‘Yeah, and this shortcut of yours isn’t proving to be very short.’

‘You know, that piece of corn looks familiar. It kind of looks like the back of Barack Obama’s head.’

‘Jake – wait, hey, it actually does!’

They laugh, until suddenly it really isn’t funny anymore, because the reality of the situation hits Amy like a freight train: they’ve been walking past the same patch of corn for about half an hour now. She doesn’t know what’s worse: that, or the fact that neither of them noticed, because they were too busy chatting and joking around.

‘You don’t know the way out of here, do you?’ she accuses.

Jake pulls a face. ‘Of course I do. It’s a left here, and then a right past that bit of corn, and then – yeah okay, we are one hundred percent definitely maybe kind of lost.’

‘Call the sarge.’ says Amy, blowing on her hands in a feeble attempt to get the blood flowing again.

‘Uh…’ Jake gives her a smile that’s far too toothy, and her heart sinks. ‘If hypothetically I was playing Kwazy Kupcakes on the ride over here and my battery died, how bad would that be on a scale of one to ten?’

Amy buries her face in her poor, cold hands.

‘We might as well keep walking. We’ll find a way out.’

Amy doesn’t stir.

‘Amy.’ his voice is softer now, crooning almost. ‘Hey, it’ll be okay. We’re not gonna be in here forever. Charles would never let that happen, for one thing.’

She feels his hands, firm and impossibly warm, gently peel her fingers away from her face. ‘You’re even colder than you were before, if that’s possible. Here.’

He shrugs off his leather jacket, then wriggles out of the red hoodie underneath, before draping it over her shoulders.

‘No, that’s okay-’ says Amy, both touched and alarmed by the intimacy of the gesture.

Jake looks at her. ‘Just take it, Amy, ‘cause if you die of hypothermia out here I’m gonna get stuck with all the paperwork, and we both know I’ll make a thousand mistakes and end up changing your marital status or something.’

Amy smiles and relents, stuffing her arms through the sleeves of the hoodie before shoving her coat back on top. Instantly, she shivers a little at the resounding warmth – and if she’s being totally honest, the feeling of being wrapped in Jake’s hoodie. She doesn’t even need to bury her nose in the collar to enjoy the smell of him, mildly sweet and woody.

She can’t help but wonder what it’d feel like to really be entangled in Jake’s arms.

When she looks back at him, he’s watching her with a softness to his gaze; not unfamiliar, he’s been looking at her this way for months now, but it doesn’t fail to make her heart flutter, her breathing quicken, her cheeks crest with a tell-tale flush.

‘Thanks,’ she says, and he nods, in that way she recognises as his ‘I-don’t-care-but-really-I-do-a-lot’ way.

‘You’re not having my jacket though.’ he says, slipping it back on. ‘I don’t care how cold you are.’

He’s only trying to diffuse the tension, and it works, because she shakes her head, smiling, but for a second she can’t help but wonder what might happen if they didn’t try to shake the tension. If they just let it simmer.

‘I got another foolproof way to warm us up.’ says Jake, and he delves into his jacket pocket and produces a hipflask. ‘Apple cider.’

He tosses a few mouthfuls back, before offering it to her. She takes it, swigs, and winces as the liquid burns down her throat.

‘That’s the weakest cider I’ve ever had.’ says Amy, as Jake wipes his mouth with the back of his hand.

‘Yeah,’ Jake agrees. ‘Imagine anyone getting buzzed off of that.’

x

‘Hey! Can I ask you a dumb question?’ Jake booms, managing to keep the slur out of his voice until the end of the sentence.

‘Better than anyone else I know.’ Amy says, pausing midway through her air-guitar number. Damn, that cider is good stuff. She’s on fire right now.

‘Hurtful!’ says Jake. ‘Just for that, I’m not letting you wear my turkey hat.’ he pulls it out from seemingly nowhere and jams it on his head. It might be the haze of the alcohol corrupting her, but he looks adorable, even wearing a tacky fabric turkey.

‘That’s okay.’ says Amy, far too loudly.

Jake shrugs at her before he promptly trips over a clump of grass and sprawls on the floor, blinking rapidly. ‘Whoa – whoa hey.’ he stares up at Amy. ‘Are you okay?’

x

‘Jake, we’ve been walking for an hour now.’ Amy groans, stooping to rub her ankle, which is stubbornly red from the cold.

‘Yeah, and we’re out of cider.’ Jake complains.

‘And I’m back to feeling spacey.’ says Amy, pouting.

‘It’s a pity. Drunk Santiago is always a treat.’ says Jake, smirking.

‘Drunk Peralta, meanwhile, is unpredictable.’

‘Drunk Jake says things he shouldn’t.’ Jake says, and he sounds so distant that she draws closer to him, catching his eyes, which are flecked with gold under the setting sun.

And just like that, she decides to take the plunge. It isn’t liquid courage, or boredom, or any other superficial reason spurring her on. It’s the way he’s staring at her, soft and a little bit yearning, and yeah, maybe sad in the mellow afternoon light.

But it’s the way he’s been looking at her over his computer monitor for months, now; the way his voice is always a little scratchy when he strolls into the precinct late and greets her. It’s the way he came looking for her when she was alone in this maze and the way he knows she’s always bloody cold and gave her his hoodie without a second thought and will switch from teasing to comfort at the slightest tremor of her lip.

It’s the way they’ve spent the entire day together, laughing and joking and gently poking at one another in the easy, synchronised way they’ve built up since her very first day at the nine-nine. It’s the way that she lights up in his company, forgets to worry about trivial things, laughs with reckless abandon.

She doesn’t want this to be a one-off. She doesn’t want to go back to work on Monday and pretend they’re just good friends.

She doesn’t want to waste any more time.

‘Listen, Jake.’

He considers her.

‘You weren’t…you weren’t drunk, were you? You know, when you…when we spoke before you went undercover.’

‘What?’ Jake splutters. ‘No. God, no. Amy…I meant every word of what I said.’ he swallows, hard. Pauses. ‘Mean every word.’

He looks at her meaningfully, then. Her breath hitches in her throat. His eyes flicker down to her lips, but she understands. He won’t make the move, not when he’s not entirely sure it’s what she wants.

So she tells him, in the best way that she can; by tugging him into her space and leaning in, and swallowing the question on his lips with her own.

He’s momentarily stunned, but there’s a tangible switch that flicks in his head and then his hands are splayed against her back, tightening at the dip of her waist, and he’s kissing her back. She snatches fistfuls of his jacket to pull him closer, and it’s jarringly cool to touch against the warmth radiating from every spot his hands rove.

His kiss is hungry and his chapped lips graze her jaw, the edge of her mouth, then back to her lips, coaxing her tongue into his own mouth. Every press of his lips stings vaguely of cider; there’s a tang to the taste of him, warm and sweet and sharp in her bloodstream.

They’re both breathing heavily when they break apart; Jake’s lips are invitingly pink and swollen, his chest heaving beneath his jacket, his pupils large and stark against the irises.

She’s thinking of what to say, how to tell him what that meant to her, when they hear Charles hysterically screaming Jake’s name from only yards away.

‘You better take this back.’ she says, suddenly inspired, gesturing to his hoodie. ‘Everyone will freak out. Well, Boyle will freak out.’

Jake raises an eyebrow, smiling again. That damn smile. ‘Nah. Keep it.’

It’s more than that, and both of them know it. It’s a question and an answer, a burgeoning commitment, a final farewell to dancing that blurry line. Jake reaches out and takes her hand, and the determined look in his eyes tells her all she needs to know.

They carefully break apart when Charles rounds the corner moments later, heading straight for Jake with his arms outstretched, closely followed by Terry, Rosa and Captain Holt.

The moment isn’t lost, though; Amy thinks maybe it’s just beginning.

#b99 fandom events #b99 fall 2019 fic exchange #peraltiago #b99 fic #mine #this is the result of me procrastinating my diss research!!!! #my fic #brooklyn nine nine #b99

[sambergscott]

i’m gomez you’re morticia i feel so happy when i’m witcha (the addams family wedding rap origin story)

written for @outofinspo for the @b99fandomevents Fall 2019 Fic Exchange. you gave me the prompt of a couple’s halloween costume and this is not... quite that but still i hope you enjoy :)

also shoutout to @amyscascadingtabs for helping me!! 

(set a few months after Amy joins the nine-nine)

Jake prides himself on being the self-confessed best detective in the Nine-Nine. His arrest numbers are off the charts. He holds the precinct record for quickest time to get a signed confession out of someone. And just last week he beat Rosa at an intense final showdown of rollerchair derby. Yet for some reason he can’t figure out what Santiago is planning on wearing to Boyle’s Halloween party.

T-minus two hours to go and it’s driving him a little crazy.

“Sexy librarian?” He guesses, scrolling through a Google Image search of ladies Halloween costumes. “Sexy superhero? Sexy zombie cheerleader?”

She rolls her eyes. “Not every Halloween costume has to be sexy, Peralta.”

“The good ones do,” he says with a wink.

“Gross.” She throws her pen at him.

“I guess your costume is just gonna be super lame, Santiago,” he goads, knowing it will get a reaction out of her. She’s so competitive, it’s practically in her DNA to rise to a challenge.

“Your costume will be the costume that is lame,” she fires back. So predictable. And so adorable.

“Sick burn,” he teases. “Anyway my costume is dope.”

“Are you going as yourself? Because that’s terrifying.”

“Ha-ha,” he deadpans, throwing back her pen. He misses her head by a inch. “I’ll have you know, detective, I’m going as a super awesome movie character that you’ll never be able to guess-.”

Right off of the bat, she says John McClane.

Which, to be fair, is a pretty good shout. He has mentioned John McClane being his hero pretty much every day since the day they met. But, alas, he went as John McClane last year. And Jake Peralta is no outfit repeater. Not on Halloween. 

“007?”

“Nope.” He grins. “Last guess.”

She drums her fingers on her desk and bites her lip as she flicks through a mental rolodex of iconic movie characters. It’s kind of distracting how hot she looks biting her lip like that and he’s totally not listening when she speaks again. She rounds their desks and has to wave her hand directly in front of his face to snap him out of it.

“Sorry.” He blushes wildly. He’s been having a lot of those thoughts lately. About how pretty her hair looks when she wears it down. About how good she looks when she wears semi-decent clothes to Shaw’s instead of her usual grey pantsuits. About how much he loves making her laugh. Sometimes he thinks he’s developing a crush on her but then he remembers she’s his annoying, nerdy partner and thoroughly quashes any thoughts of liking her romantic-stylez. “What were you saying?”

“Superman,” she responds. “My final guess is Superman.”

He makes a loud buzzer noise. “While I am thrilled that you think I could save the planet, detective, you are incorrect. Again. I thought you were supposed to be the smart out of the two of us!”

“I am smart.”

“Not smart enough,” he retorts. “Clearly.”

“Hey, it’s hard! You like a lot of movies! And, besides, you’ve been guessing all morning and you’ve still yet to get mine.” She smiles smugly, folding her arms across her chest.

“OK,” he responds, rubbing his hands together eagerly. “Gimme another clue.”

“I am also going as a movie character.”

“Holly Gennaro!” He guesses immediately.

She rolls her eyes. “No. Stop being so obsessed with Die Hard.”

“I’m not obsessed with Die Hard, I just know all the words and have seen all of them a thousand times.”

“Sounds pretty obsessed to me,” she nudges his shoulder. “Die Hard’s not the only movie out there, you know. There are other movies. Better movies.”

He gasps and recoils like Scully when he poured hot coffee all over himself. “Take that back! Die Hard is the greatest movie of all time!”

“Wrong. Ignorant and wrong. The Lion King’s a great movie.”

“Never seen it.” He shrugs.

“You’ve never seen The Lion King? But it’s a classic. We watched it all the time when I was a kid.”

“I was alone a lot,” he explains, “single mom who worked, absentee father. I just watched sports and Die Hard.”

“Oh,” she whispers, making this sad, frowny face. “Wanna watch it together some time?”

“Uh, ye, yeah,” he stutters, a little taken aback at the invitation. He thought she found him childish and annoying.

“I still think you’re annoying,” she says as she returns to her desk, like she can read his mind.

“Ditto,” he grins.

++

He’s the first one to arrive.

While he normally insists on showing up at crime scenes/morning briefings/family events fashionably late, this time Boyle specifically asked him to come early and it’s his duty as The Best Friend™️ to resolve all Rosa-is-coming-to-his-party-related meltdowns.

“Smell my breath,” Boyle demands, getting real close.

“OK. Personal space, Charles. We talked about this, remember?”

“Of course,” he nods, taking a few steps back. “I just don’t want Rosa to think I have bad breath when we make out.”

Jake grimaces, relieved when there’s a knock at the door. “I’ll get it,” he excuses himself before Boyle sticks his mouth in front of his face again.

He opens the door and stares at the other early bird in silence.

It’s Amy. Of course it’s Amy. She’s always early. Even after drinks at Shaw’s, hungover, she’ll get to work forty-five minutes before she has to. It’s not surprising that she’s early, it’s what she’s wearing that has him speechless.

In a long black dress with a long black wig, she is unmistakably Morticia Addams. Not as iconic as Holly Gennaro, he has to admit, but still. She’s rocking it.

The only issue?

He’s dressed as Gomez, the patriarch of the Addams family, Morticia’s husband.

They’re matching.

They’re wearing matching Halloween costumes!

Amy blushes beneath her heavy make-up. “Um. Nice suit.”

“Nice dress,” he responds, equally flustered.

“This is weird, right?” They say at the exact same time before dissolving into giggles.

Jake scratches the back of his neck awkwardly. “I guess we’ve been spending a lot of time together the last few months. I must have telepathically given you the idea.”

“Unless I thought of it first.” She raises one eyebrow, challenging him. Before he can come up with response, Boyle appears behind them, incredibly excited about their accidental costume situation.

“It’s nothing,” Jake brushes it off.

“Yeah,” Amy agrees, still standing in the doorway. “The Addams Family are just popular Halloween costumes. That’s all.”

“It definitely means something,” he insinuates in his super high-pitched, annoying insinuating voice. “It means that you’re soulmates.”

Jake rolls his eyes. First the wedding bells comment on Amy’s first day, then the constant questions about whether she’s seeing anyone, now this. He gets that his best friend is just trying to be a good wingman or whatever but it’s A Lot. Even if he did like Amy, nothing would ever happen because she’s obviously uncomfortable about the whole thing. She is the most professional person he’s ever met and would never do anything to jeopardise her integrity at work, especially not something as scandalous as a workplace romance!

Not that anything would ever happen anyway. They’re just friends. Co-workers. Portners. He doesn’t even like her in a romantical way.

Sometimes, for example later in the evening when she steals his last slice of pizza, he doesn’t like her at all.

But then he tells a dumb joke and she’s the only one in Charles’ ex-wife’s, new boyfriend’s basement who laughs and he thinks that maybe Charles is right. Maybe he does have a crush on her. A little one. Tiny.

Not that it matters anyway. Someone like Amy would never date someone like him. They’re just too different. He’s the Gomez to her Morticia, the Detective Peralta to her Detective Santiago, and that’s all it’s ever going to be.

(Eight years later, it’s only fitting that they end their wedding day with him performing his Addams Family themed wedding vows rap in just his boxers. There’s no beat boxer and he’s horribly out of time and he’s forgotten most of the lyrics, but it’s perfect. And Charles was right after all -- they are soulmates, just like Gomez and Morticia). 

#my writing #jake x amy #b99 fall 2019 fic exchange #b99fandomevents #b99 fics

[b99fandomevents]

Thank you to everyone who joined our Fall 2019 Fic Exchange!!! 🍁🍂

At this point in time, all fics have been submitted and are beautifully compiled under the cut by the amazing @amez-santiago. ♡ (If you don’t see your fic here or notice any errors, please let us know!) 

Against The Cold | AO3

↝ by @thirteenbythirteen for @mashikkara

Five times Jake keeps Amy warm, and one time she returns the favor. 

autumn leaves falling down like pieces into place | AO3

↝ by @storyinmyeyes for @amysantiagoisfone

Jake comes over to check on a "sick" Amy and they end up snuggling together on the couch during the first storm of Autumn.

call my bluff, call you ‘babe’ | AO3

↝ by @space-nougat for @b99peraltiago

"Look, Jake, I know I'm asking too much of you, but I'm desperate now and you're the only one left." "I'm desperate now and you're the only one left-title of your sex tape," he exclaimed quickly, then added, "But seriously though, what are you talking about?" "I need you to be my fake boyfriend for Thanksgiving." Or, Amy needs someone to pretend to be her boyfriend for a day. Jake is available.

Carnival: Trial by Fire | AO3

↝ by @vernonfielding for @vic-kovac

Amy takes Jake to the Santiago family's annual carnival -- and introduces her to every one of her seven brothers. Will their relationship survive??? (Yes. There is seriously no angst in here.)

Every day is magical when I'm with you | AO3

↝ by @sandylovesfandoms for @amazingsantiago

Jake and Amy go Halloween costume shopping with baby (in honour of peraltiago baby 2020)

falling in love with you again and again

↝ by @yaboring-yabasic for @stolethekey

corn maze/harvest festival and hot chocolate/amy being cold

Giving Thanks | AO3

↝ by @impossiblyizzy for @lesbianperaltas

Amy is worried about hosting Thanksgiving dinner for the squad, but Jake is there to help.

“I Figured You’d Need This” 

↝ by @winnietherpooh for @viktorkrumn

Jake getting Amy hot beverages because she gets cold.

I call it magic when I'm with you | AO3

↝ by @letsperaltiago for @amyscascadingtabs

1. Halloween costume parties 2. Baking together (could be something Halloween-related or general fall coziness) 3. Peraltiago kids celebrating Halloween

i close my eyes, let it surround me | AO3

↝ by @stolethekey for @397bartonstreet

The flu is definitely messing with his brain, but a part of him never wants to be sick without her again. Maybe she could take care of him every time he’s sick or hurt or sad. Maybe he could take care of her, too. Maybe he wants the comfort she brings when she’s here. Maybe her coat could find a permanent place draped over his armchair. Maybe it could stay – and maybe she could stay – - jake gets sick. amy knits him a scarf.

i used to live alone before i knew you. | AO3

↝ by  @lesbianperaltas for @winnietherpooh

They sit back on their couch, Amy getting comfortable, placing her feet in Jake’s lap and he just looks at her—she’s not looking at him—and he thinks of how he’s never really had a person before her. He had always used to come home from a long case with a pack of beer and he’d watch Die Hard alone. It never used to be a problem until everyone slowly started to couple off in his friend group, and even then it never really got to him until he got a glimpse of what it feels like to have someone to hang out with and actually like to be around with. It was like slowly over time his partnership with Amy had started to become something more. They were friends then—friends that hung out sometimes after work, and somewhere Jake wanted more than just being friends. He wanted everything that Amy could give him. (or, Jake and Amy, some polish food and hot cider.)

i'm cold as the wind blows (so hold me in your arms) | AO3

↝ by @fezzle for @chipmunksallshipklefan

There’s something about how defeated he looks that’s troubling her. His eyes keep shifting to the floor, and there’s a forlorn quality in his voice that makes her think there’s something deeper afflicting him. or Jake comes back from undercover. Only he's not the same.

i’m gomez you’re morticia i feel so happy when i’m witcha | AO3

↝ by @amazingsantiago for @outofinspo

the addams family wedding rap origin story.

in daylights, in sunsets, in midnights, in cups of coffee (how about love?) | AO3

↝ by @exploding-snapple for @thirteenbythirteen

Rosa rolls her eyes. “Besides, I never drink coffee.” Gina lowers her phone and leans forward; her Twitter updates can wait. “Rosa Diaz, are you telling me that you’ve never had a Pumpkin Spice Latte?” (An AU where Rosa’s a Target Sales Associate and Gina’s a barista for the Starbucks inside.)

In which Amy and Rosa go on a road trip and eat pie, but Rosa doesn't know the whole truth | AO3

↝ by @viktorkrumn for @impossiblyizzy

Amy and Rosa go on a short trip upstate for one of Amy's cases. It's Thanksgiving weekend and it sounds like they're about to have a lot of fun, but Rosa gets the feeling that Amy's hiding something...

it’s you and me, there’s nothing like this | AO3

↝ by @amyscascadingtabs for @cheddar-the-dog

“I still don’t get the point of why you would pay someone to scare you,” Amy mutters, rubbing her arms and jumping up and down on the place to keep herself warm. “The real-life world is plenty terrifying. Climate change. Racism. US Politics. I could go on and on.” “Because it’s fun, and while the things you mentioned are hella scary, they make for awful costumes,” Jake pointed out, already shrugging off his leather jacket to drape it across her shoulders. “I mean, how would you even dress up as climate change?” (Jake and Amy, and a yearly Halloween tradition.)

keep you warm (wanna keep you all) | AO3

↝ by @johnny-and-dora for @sandylovesfandoms

(“Thermodynamic equilibrium.” She’d grinned as he’d offered to warm up her hands on a coffee date a million years ago. He’d never found a use for his hidden talent as a walking space heater before they started dating. Now, here, everything’s always too warm and completely off balance.) or, florida man really misses his girlfriend.

Lie With Me (And Forget the World) | AO3

↝ by @mashikkara for @ofbuttsandbombs

The morning after Haloveen.

Never tell me the odds | AO3

↝ by @kamekamelea for @fezzle

Amy and Jake's meet-cute at a Halloween party. Oh, and Amy is a Wookie.

Of Ghosts and Pumpkins | AO3

↝ by @jake-and-ames for @vernonfielding

“I’m Jake.” He has barely uttered the words when something brushes his arm and out of the corner of his eyes, he sees a shadow glide out of the room. Jake can’t help it; he lets out another high-pitched scream. Amy stifles a laugh beside him. “Okay, let’s get you out of here.” Or Jake vs. some ghosts and a children’s safety knife.

one love, one house (no shirt, no blouse) | AO3 [E]

↝ by @amydancepants-peralta for @kamekamelea

His lips travel up her torso, ever so gentle over the subtle bump, and when he reaches the peak he pauses, looking up at Amy with an indescribable look in his eyes. The hand in his hair stops, holding still within the coils as she looks back at him, holding his gaze before breaking the silence. “Babe?” He smiles, a sign of reassurance she holds more valuable than most peoples words, and shakes his head slightly. “Nothing. Just ...” he drops another kiss to her belly. “Wow.”

put your head on my shoulder (you and I will fall in love) | AO3 

↝ by @vic-kovac for @letsperaltiago

(‘Aaaaaaaaaamy. Amy Santiago. Amy!’ She’s never, ever, been happier to hear Jake Peralta’s voice.) The squad visits the local fall festival; Jake and Amy encounter an endless corn maze, too much apple cider, and overdue confessions.

Safe as (Haunted) Houses | AO3

↝ by @vernonfielding for @vic-kovac

Amy and Jake chase a teenage car thief into a haunted house. And things get weird. 

Scarlet Season | AO3

↝ by @ofbuttsandbombs for @meepmorpperaltiago

It's autumn and school has just begun, the weather is cooler, summer is long gone, Amy's always cold again, Jake is singing Sweater Weather, the kids just want to jump in puddles and leaves and generally make messes, and Karen and Roger decide to renew their vows.

sweater weather | AO3

↝ by @amydancepants-peralta for @kamekamelea

Her face burrows into the fabric of his sweater, chest expanding as she breathes him in, and Jake’s smile grows bigger at the sight. He can still remember their first night together, how amazing she looked with her head against his pillow, the tiniest of smiles on her face as she mumbled that it smelled of him. He knew he was a goner then, and he still is now.

tell me again (about how it hurts) | AO3

↝ by @cheddar-the-dog by @exploding-snapple

it’s Rosa’s first thanksgiving after coming out to her parents - it’s very angst loaded and centers mostly on Rosa’s journey of it all

The Adventures of the Santiago-Peralta family | AO3

↝ by @meepmorpperaltiago for @jake-and-ames

peraltiago baby finding a hedgehog and the squad pumpkin carving together

The Blanket | AO3

↝ by @amysantiagoisfone for @amydancepants-peralta

As Jake and Amy's relationship becomes more stable, they start to learn each other's annoying quirks and wonderful traits- which is just what Jake wanted to do this weekend.

The winner takes it all | AO3

↝ by @chipmunksallshipklefan for @yaboring-yabasic

“Heist! Heist! Heist!” she continues to chant as they wander around the neighbourhood, candy bags held tight as they adhere to Amy’s pre-made chart of whose doors they’re allowed to knock on. And Amy’s already worrying about the impending tantrum when Jake whispers, “We should put a little fake heist on for her.” And so they end up in the living room, Jake and Amy grinning widely at Mia, as Jake holds Mr Zebra up high and Amy declares, “The winner needs to find and hold onto Mr Zebra until the clock says three, do you remember what the number three looks like Mia?”

Untitled 

↝ by @397bartonstreet for @johnny-and-dora

autumnal walk in the park

We Belong Together | AO3

↝ by @b99peraltiago for @storyinmyeyes

“In their two years and a half of relationship, it’s obviously not the first time they find themselves in such a situation – one of them making breakfast while the other joins them after waking up alone in bed –, but there’s something different about this particular morning. There’s a ring on Amy’s finger now, the promise of many similar mornings happening in their shared future shining bright against her skin.” (Post-5x04, the morning after The Proposal.)

Welcome to the party, pal! | AO3 [M]

↝ by @kamekamelea for @fezzle

Amy loses a bet to Gina and has to wear a Halloween costume of her choice. The night takes a surprising turn when Jake sees Amy all dressed up and can barely hold himself together.

when autumn leaves start to fall | AO3 

↝ by @outofinspo for @space-nougat 

Jake and Amy decide to go out on a cold Fall day to play with the fallen leaves 

#b99 fic #b99fandomevents #fall 2019 fics #b99 fall 2019 fic exchange #shout out to sara for her awesome gif skills

[johnny-and-dora]

keep you warm (wanna keep you all)

for @sandylovesfandoms, who asked for “jake pining over amy looking so cute all wrapped up in scarves” as part of the @b99fandomevents fall 2019 fic exchange! i really hope you like it!

“Thermodynamic equilibrium.” She’d grinned as he’d offered to warm up her hands on a coffee date a million years ago. He’d never found a use for his hidden talent as a walking space heater before they started dating. Now, here, everything’s always too warm and completely off balance.

or, florida man really misses his girlfriend. (prequel to 4x01)

read on ao3 -

Today, Jake thinks as he buries himself in Larry’s stupid uncomfortably warm bed wearing Larry’s stupid clothes and Larry’s stupid heartbreak, officially sucks.

Considering he’s spent the past few months living in the sunshine state, his average disposition has been anything but sunny; the tepid, swamp-like purgatory of his seemingly everlasting stint of witness protection makes it hard to feel anything other than sweaty and heartbroken. And he’s been trying to stay positive, he really has – he’s chasing leads locked away in his secret storage locker whenever he can and he’s got a contraband grainy photo of her for when he really needs it and he lies awake reassuring himself that the squad are doing everything they can to get them home.

But today especially, royally sucks; today is a hot tub burrito kind of day, a day that can’t even be improved by getting drunk and renting Die Hard or building up his case on Figgis or doing something intensely ridiculous with his hair. Today is one of those days where he knows Holt will invent an issue with their shared fence later just to check up on him, which is guaranteed to cause a whole maelstrom of guilt and awkwardness that he really isn’t equipped to deal with right now.

Because today, as the little Google doodle so obnoxiously cheerfully reminded him earlier this morning before he threw his phone across the room, is the first day of fall.

He promised Amy he’d be back before the end of summer.

He thought he knew what it was like to miss home. Six months undercover wasn’t exactly a walk in the park (especially as it had the opposite intended effect and only made his slightly debilitating crush on a certain co-worker even stronger), but now he thinks he’d take being tech support for the mafia in a heartbeat over this totally new kind of personal hell.

In the first few weeks, the list of things he missed was simple; Amy, working cases, his mom, New York pizza, the rest of the squad and Amy again.

But now, five months in, Jake has become a seasoned professional in making elaborately and ridiculously long lists of all the things he misses. He lies on top of a bed that feels too big and stares at the damp creeping in from the corners of Larry’s bedroom and watches the slow wistful spin of the ceiling fan and makes himself sick making lists.

Lists of witty lines he loves to say when he finally catches a perp. Lists of the weird foods Charles is always gushing about in his daily email blasts. Lists of things he wants to do to Figgis if he – when he finally escapes this hell hole. It helps, sometimes. Sometimes he thinks it hurts more than anything else.

It’s this terrible wonderful oxymoron, a word he only learnt because his girlfriend, among the billion million other amazing tiny things he loves about her, is a walking dictionary. It’s agony and it’s relief and it fills all the emptiness for a little while but in the end, it always makes it worse. And yet he can’t stop himself. What else is there to do?

(“Get a job.” The voice of reason in his head that always sounds a bit like Holt chimes in. He ignores it.)

Five months in, everything he misses about Amy can’t even fit on one list anymore – she has her own entire mental subcategory. In different circumstances, he likes to think that she’d be proud of his organisation skills – that helps, a little bit. The idea that when they’re finally reunited at the airport or in an epic shootout he’ll tell her that he finally understands the power of list-making in-between kisses and she’ll find it stupid hot.

Five months in, trying to stay positive means a moment of content in getting to start a new list - fall themed things he misses about his girlfriend. The luxury hot cocoa that she gets out on special occasions and the way she’s taken to always having a packet of mini marshmallows lying around especially for him. The way she always gets excited when September arrives because of all the stationary sales and the chance to add to her binder collection. The piles and piles of thick winter coats and comforters and scarves she gets out of storage practically the second the first leaf drops to the ground.

He’s struck by a vivid memory of her looking unfairly adorable all wrapped up in her hat and scarf and his leather jacket while it was barely less than 50 degrees outside. Another one of her lecturing him on how toffee apples didn’t count as part of a healthy and balanced diet. He’s overwhelmed with Amy, the way she holds his hand on walks and laughs at his dumb jokes and makes him want to see the best in people, even be a better person just so he can come closer to deserving her.

(“Thermodynamic equilibrium.” She’d grinned as he’d offered to warm up her hands on a coffee date a million years ago. He’d never found a use for his hidden talent as a walking space heater before they started dating. Now, here, everything’s always too warm and completely off balance.)

It’s not like he expected Figgis to automatically drop into the FBI’s lap as soon as fall hit, but it stings anyway; another broken promise. Sure, he had no authority to make that promise in the first place, but now they’ve spent over a full summer apart and the self-doubt and dread twist him in knots, whispers that it’s his fault. It’s all too easy to believe that.

It doesn’t help that it’s Florida - birds still scream outside his window at ungodly hours and crazy thunder and lightning crash with an intensity that makes him think of cowering under a blanket as a kid until his Nana soothed him back to sleep. It does help that they’re still in the same time zone, that sometimes he can whisper good morning or goodnight knowing that her alarm just went off or that she just settled in to do the latest NYT crossword.

He wouldn’t wish this on anyone, which only makes him feel guilty whenever he wishes she was with him.

(“You have to stay.” He’d said while his life was in the process of being unravelled and he was numbly aware of a damp patch on his shirt from where she’d been crying and the entire world was falling apart. She’d nodded, and there was the silent promise – I trust you.)

She’s going to get them back home. It’s an unshakeable fact in his mind; Amy’s still waiting for him and she’s doing everything she can to get them back home. He can’t bear to imagine any alternative.

But for now, it’s the first day of fall. Another lost day there’s no convincing positive spin for and it feels like all he can do is lie here completely helpless and worry that he’s forgotten exactly what her laugh sounds like.

***

The romanticised ideals of New York in the fall he spent all that time building up in his head don’t even remotely compare to the real thing.

Today is a good day. Sure, it might be slightly more enjoyable if he wasn’t recovering from a bullet wound and they weren’t both exhausted from the night shift - but he has a dope cane now and he no longer looks like Vanilla Ice and Amy’s holding his hand and it’s so, unbelievably good to be back home.

(He can’t stop saying it – whenever friends ask him how he’s doing or the sweet old lady that runs the bodega next to his apartment says she hasn’t seen him in a while or one of the Santiago brothers sends him a text. It’s good to be home.)

With every step, it gets a little easier; with every step, he feels a little lighter, feels a little more comfort that both Larry Sherbet and the all the totally consuming bitter loneliness that came with him is dead and buried. The auburns and the yellows and the oranges that dot the trees are so welcoming and he can’t even begin to describe how great it feels to wear his leather jacket again.

And if that wasn’t good enough, Amy’s here. Ever consistent, always grounding, the constant that his entire universe gravitates around. Amy’s here and she’s wrapped up in a coat and scarf that almost completely dwarves her and she’s smiling and Jake thinks that means balance has been restored to the universe again, maybe just a little bit. He can’t stop himself from holding her tighter and pressing an almost possessive kiss to the top of her head, revelling in the way she flushes pink and her eyes crinkle with a quiet kind of joy.

“You wanna take a break?” She asks gently, squeezing his hand – they sit on a nearby park bench, all honeyed smiles and heart eyes and generally being one of those couples that are disgustingly in love but he no longer cares – given the circumstances, they’ve more than earned a free pass to be sickening.

“Okay, so we’ve done hot cocoa and stationary shopping and autumnal park walk. What else was on the list?”

“I think that was everything. I mean, the main thing was getting to do all that stuff with you.”

“Want to go home and watch Die Hard and make out on the couch, then?”

“I love you.” He says reverently as she grins – he can’t stop saying that either. It somehow feels like he needs to make up for all the lost ones in-between.

"Love you too.” She hums dreamily, lightly muffled by all the layers she’s wrapped up in yet not an ounce of the deliberate weight behind it is lost on him. It's magic, how easily she washes all the fear and self-doubt away. He squeezes her ice-cold hands, doing his best to warm them up - when her molten gaze meets his he grins and thinks thermodynamic equilibrium and I trust you and it’s good to be home.

The list of things he misses about Amy gets left behind in a storage locker in Coral Palms – but the list of things he loves about her only grows and grows.

#b99 fall 2019 fic exchange #b99 fandom events #b99 #b99 fic #jake x amy #peraltiago #my writing #did i fill the prompt exactly? maybe not #but i hope you enjoy it anyway fhsjkss #shut up sian

[todd--chavez]

Gina Cazador is a really good actress to be able to pull this all off. 

#gina cazador #acting #actress #actor #bojack horseman #bojack season 5 #bojack horseman season 5 #stephanie beatriz #b99 fall 2019 fic exchange #will arnett

[outofinspo]

when autumn leaves start to fall

hi @space-nougat i’m your assigned writer for the fall fic exchange. It was really fun writing some of your prompts and i hope you enjoy it.

i’d like to thank @cheddar-the-dog and @darkrosemind for helping me with this story. Also a big special thank you to @ofbuttsandbombs for helping me so much in perfecting it.

Thank you so much everybody at @b99fandomevents for organizing this amazing event :) hope yall enjoy this one shot!!

(you can also read it on AO3)

summary: Jake and Amy decide to go out on a cold Fall day to play with the fallen leaves

“I thought you were wearing three jackets.”

“Two.” Amy corrected her husband. Although she much wish Jake was right, she had left her third jacket on the chair in the reading room after being rushed by him to leave the house. “And that means nothing, it’s really cold today!” She continued, shoving Jake lightly in annoyance.

“Ames, it’s literally sixty degrees right now,” Jake said in disbelief.

“Exactly! Really cold.”

Jake released a small chuckle, still not understanding how his wife was always so cold. He didn’t even understand how he got Amy out of the house that weekend on the beginning of fall, but the detective couldn’t wait anymore. As soon as he saw the first leaf fall off a tree he knew he had to take Amy outside to play with them, even if he had to drag her.

There was a small park near their apartment, it really didn’t have much, Jake wasn’t even sure he could call it a park, but there was enough space to gather a pile of leaves and jump on them, so that would be more than enough.

Amy didn’t want to admit it but she was also really excited for the whole fall scenario. She actually wanted to go out with Jake and step on every leaf she found on the way to the small park to hear that satisfying crunch, she couldn’t wait to see all the beautifully carved pumpkins grinning up at her from storefronts and porches, and, what worried her the most, she was really excited for halloween even though they decided to do a christmas heist that year. Something about living with Jake had awoken her inner child.

Oh my god, Ames!” Jake exclaimed as soon as they reached the park, stopping abruptly on the sidewalk.

“What?” Amy asked Jake, directing a worried glaze to him.

“Look at all those leaves!” There was a huge smile plastered on his face. Sometimes (honestly, most times), Jake acted like he was an eight year old trapped on the body of a grown man and, though Amy would never admit it, that was one of the things that made him so lovable.

Amy barely had time to tell Jake off for scaring her before he started running to a pile of leaves. The woman could do nothing but stare from a small distance, smiling widely at her husband, who was already piling up more leaves. God, she loved that man.

“Ames, come on!” Jake called Amy, pulling her out of her daze “I bet you can’t make a bigger pile.”

As soon as the word “bet” came out of his mouth, Amy rushed to gather all the leaves she could find. She might have been acting like a fool in love but she wouldn’t let that leave her behind in a competition. When it came to bets, the couple of detectives weren’t ever playing, as silly as whatever they were doing was, whenever one of them said “I bet” it immediately became a serious game. Piling up leaves was no exception.

Jake was a little thrown off by the speed Amy was collecting leaves and quickly forming a huge pile with them. He stared at her in awe for a minute or so before he realized her pile was indeed getting bigger than his, which brought him back to reality and pushed him to immediately start gathering more leaves.

Ten minutes later and no one could see any leaf in the small park besides the few that were still in the trees and the thousands on Jake and Amy’s piles.

“I clearly won.” Amy stated, pointing at her pile.

To be fair, it was a bit touch and go; the piles looked pretty much the same. Not that that would stop Jake and Amy from arguing who was the real winner.

“What?” Jake released a high pitch noise in disbelief “No, you didn’t! Our piles look the exact same.”

“Those are the words a loser would say.”

“No, way! You’re just too scared to admit that I actually won this time.”

Amy put her hands on her hips and threw him a challenging gaze “Do you want me to count the leaves, Jake? I’m absolutely sure I won.”

In that moment, Jake acted out of impulse, he knew Amy meant what she said and he didn’t want to spend the rest of the day counting leaves, also, he was a bit scared she might actually win the bet. So he did the only thing that made sense in his mind: he threw himself onto Amy’s pile.

“Jake!” Amy instantly yelled at her husband “That is cheating.”

All Amy could see next was an arm peeking out of the big pile of leaves and soon she was pulled onto them as well. The woman panicked a bit with her husband’s sudden actions and released a scream, but soon they were both laying down on the floor on top of the leaves that had remained there.

“You know this means I won right?” Amy tried clearing everything up after she caught her breath, sitting up on the floor while still holding Jake’s hand that he had used to pull her to the floor.

“Of course not.” Jake said casually “Look at the size of my pile, it’s like ten times bigger than yours.” he explained pointing at his intact pile.

“Oh, really?” Amy asked releasing her lover’s hand. She soon dove right into his pile, making sure to make extra big movements with her arms so she could reduce it to basically nothing “It looks like my pile is much bigger now, doesn’t it?” The detective completed, while still moving around and grabbing some leaves and trying to throw them anywhere.

At that moment, Jake also sat up so that he was facing his wife. Amy had a pleased look on her face while Jake was just staring at her in awe “I’d say it’s a tie.” He finally said, standing up and reaching for amy’s hand so he could help her do the same.

“A tie is fine.” Amy said standing up before sharply pointing at Jake “This time.” She completed, making him laugh.

Only then Amy had time to properly feel the cold breeze hit her. She absolutely hated it. She was starting to get really cold again, only being able to think about the damn jacket she had forgotten back at their apartment, and what was she thinking leaving without gloves? Her hands felt like ice cubes.

“Are you cold?” Jake asked worriedly with the sight of a trembling Amy, but still chuckling a bit as a result of the fun moment they had just shared.

“Mhmm” Amy answered holding her hands together closer to her chest on a failed attempt to make them warmer.

“Come here.” Jake unzipped his hoodie, holding the edges with opened arms, inviting Amy to step into it.

Amy gladly complied, running into Jake and wrapping her arms strongly around his waist under the hoodie. The man laughed at her speed and wrapped his hoodie around her, placing a soft kiss on the top of her head.

“You’re so warm.” Amy said softly, closing her eyes and nuzzling her nose on Jake’s neck.

“Ames, your nose is freezing cold!” The detective complained, ducking his head a little so he could get away from the ice trap.

“No, I need your warmth!” Amy exclaimed trying to find her way back to her husband’s face with her eyes still closed, ending up hitting Jake’s nose with her head.

“Amy!” Jake yelped, moving his head away from his wife once again.

“Sorry.” Amy said finally opened her eyes and looked up at Jake.

They were just staring at each other on their embrace for a little while, before Amy finally started feeling her fingers again and grabbed Jake’s face with both hands, kissing him tenderly.

When they pulled away from the kiss Jake was smiling at a still close eyed Amy.

“So warm.” she repeated, making Jake laugh. He shook his head in amusement and held his wife a little bit tighter. It looked like it was going to be a great Fall.

#mine #my fic #peraltiago #brooklyn nine nine #b99 #jake peralta #amy santiago #b99 fic #b99fandomevents #b99 fall 2019 fic exchange

[stolethekey]

i close my eyes, let it surround me

COMIN’ IN HOT THE NIGHT BEFORE THE DEADLINE HERE WE GO

this is for @397bartonstreet, who asked for something about amy knitting jake a scarf pre-relationship and it being his favorite thing in the world bc he's already lowkey smitten with her. what a concept honestly it took me so long to just wrap my head around how incredible that idea was.

and shoutout to the team at @b99fandomevents for hosting yet another successful event! these things are not easy to do well and y’all do it consistently. thanks for providing a platform for us writers to share our work and make some new friends. 

anyway. you can read this on ao3 here. enjoy!

-

Amy loves the fall.

It’s the perfect season, really – the crisp air is a welcome reprieve from the swampy New York summer, but it’s not the unbearable cold of December, either. It’s a season of scarves and sweaters but not snow boots, of morning walks with a warm coffee in hand but no need for mittens.

It’s also flu season.

And while Amy hasn’t gotten the flu in ten years (flu shots and home remedies, baby!), she takes a sort of strange satisfaction in watching her coworkers succumb to the illness. It’s not that she enjoys their pain – she doesn’t, no matter what Rosa mutters under her breath every year – but this perfectly benign illness is a way for her to finally take care of her colleagues without them complaining.

She likes to take care of people. And flu season is her time to shine.

The only annoying thing about flu season is that Jake somehow also never gets sick. This is a phenomenon, she thinks, that is inexplicable by the known laws of nature, much like platypus eggs or the horizon problem. It is patently unfair that he remains healthy (to use the term loosely) on a diet of sour candy and orange soda, whereas she has had to concoct a careful schedule of Vitamin C and ginger broth to stave off the flu.

In any case, Jake never gets sick. And no matter how unjust Amy believes that to be, every November sees the two of them become the only constants in the bullpen.

So, when she walks into the precinct the second week of November to see his desk empty, the uncomfortable surprise that jolts through her body is completely reasonable. It is completely reasonable for her to badger Captain Holt for her partner’s whereabouts, and upon learning that he is sick, it is completely reasonable for her to hole herself away in the evidence lockup and call said partner.

Jake picks up on the third ring, his voice sounding muted through the receiver. “Hello?”

“Hey, it’s me,” Amy says, feet shuffling restlessly against the floor. “Holt said you called in sick.”

He gives a weak murmur of assent. “I think I have the flu, or something? I’m so congested and my whole body is cold and I think I have a fever? I can’t really tell.”

Amy feels her eyes narrow. “You’re never sick.”

“I know,” Jake says sourly. “Guess my good luck ran out.”

A faint, triumphant smile starts to make its way across Amy’s face. “So, what you’re saying is – I beat you.”

Jake groans. “Don’t let it go to your head. I personally think the fact that I lasted as long as I did is impressive, considering you spent hours of your time trying to prevent the flu and I just coasted and did nothing.”

Amy’s grin grows wider as he keeps going. “If anything, I think I am the true winner, because I invested less time and still got just as far. It’s about the return on investment. I got an equal return on zero investment.”

“You did not get equal return. I’m not sick. Which means I got more return.”

Jake snorts. “Details.”

“Make fun of my methods all you want,” Amy says loftily. “I get results, boy. Which is why you are currently sitting at home, miserable and cold, while I am working a double homicide.”

A high-pitched whine comes through the receiver, and Amy laughs. “Bye, Jake. I have a murderer to catch.”

She doesn’t talk to him again until later that day, when her phone lights up with a text.

From: Jake Peralta amy help i think it’s getting worse 2:34 pm

She feels a twinge of pity as she types her response.

To: Jake Peralta yes, it does that sometimes 2:35 pm

From: Jake Peralta can u give me some of ur weird home remedies pls i promise i’ll stop making fun of them 2:37 pm

To: Jake Peralta you just called them “weird” 2:38 pm

From: Jake Peralta :( 2:38 pm

From: Jake Peralta ok starting now 2:39 pm

From: Jake Peralta please I think I’m dying 2:45 pm

Amy sighs as she glances at his empty desk, mentally calculating the time it’ll take for her to drive home after her shift and gather her things.

To: Jake Peralta Fine. If you can stay alive for three more hours, I’ll be there at 5:40. 2:47 pm

From: Jake Peralta always so specific (ur the best thank u) 2:48 pm She shows up at his door at 5:40 sharp, two plastic bags in her arms. Her instinctual sarcastic comment dies on the tip of her tongue as the door opens to reveal a disheveled, very-clearly-just-asleep Jake.

“Oh,” she says, taking in his knotted hair and deathly pale skin. “I mean, hi.”

“Yeah, it’s bad,” he grumbles, his voice muted. “Come in.”

He shuffles aside, socked feet sliding against the floorboards, and Amy steps into his apartment.

She notes with some surprise that the floor is mostly bare, uncovered by dirty clothes, and a quick glance reveals no empty take-out containers on the coffee table. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but your place is…surprisingly clean.”

Jake coughs weakly behind her. “I tried to shove some stuff into the cupboards before you got here,” he says, shutting the door. “I know you hate mess.”

Something very unwelcome swells in Amy’s chest as she sets her bags on the counter. “Oh my God, Jake, you really didn’t have to, you’re clearly so sick –“

“Mmm, ’sfine,” he mumbles, turning toward the bedroom. “I’m gonna sleep now. Make yourself at home.”

“Oh,” Amy says again. “I mean, yeah, of course, you need it – I’ll set up here and wait for you.”

“You’re the best.”

She laughs, he gives her a weak, soft smile, and with that, he disappears into his room, leaving her to rifle through her bags in an attempt to bury the flurry of butterflies in her stomach.

-

When Jake wakes, it takes him a minute to remember that he’s not alone.

It’s a good thing that he remembers when he does, because walking mostly naked into the hallway while his colleague whom he respects very much and may or may not have a tiny crush on is rustling around in his kitchen is absolutely not something he wants to do, no matter how sick he is.

He doesn’t completely remember taking his clothes off, but he guesses somewhere in between him sliding into bed and now, his fever made him go from freezing cold to unbearably hot and that’s why his sweatpants are currently lying abandoned on the floor. He pauses to pull them back on, and as he grabs his T-shirt off the foot of his bed he notes with some relief that he feels somewhat more like himself.

Amy is perched on his couch when he enters the living room, and the gentle kindness in her eyes as she looks up makes his heart clench.

He clears his throat, determinedly trying to focus on something else. “Are you knitting?”

Her eyebrows scrunch together as she looks him up and down, the needles stilling in her hands. “Are you really in a position to be making fun of me right now?”

“I’m not making fun of you,” he says hastily, holding his hands up. “Just – observing. Is that a scarf?”

“It’s going to be, yeah. Good eye.”

He smiles, shoving his hands into his pockets. “It’s really good. Honestly. I love that shade of blue.”

She returns his smile, and for a moment he thinks that maybe he could get used to this, that maybe he likes the sight of her snuggled comfortably into the side of his couch.

Amy coughs. “How’re you feeling?”

“Better,” he answers, making his way into the kitchen to hide the blush that’s spread onto his cheeks. “Did you bring those magic cures you promised?”

“Yeah!” She jumps almost excitedly off the couch, laying her half-finished scarf on his coffee table. “Here, let me set it up.”

She hurries past him and starts untying the top of a plastic bag he hadn’t noticed initially. “I actually ordered you some soup and bread – I brought you some meds, too, but you should have something in your stomach before you take them.”

A large plastic tub emerges from the bag, and she grins. “Lucky you – it’s still hot.”

He takes it with a murmur of thanks, and she shoves him toward the table. “Go eat that. I’m gonna prep.”

The soup is heavenly, although Jake isn’t sure it’s possible to mess up chicken noodle soup, and as he tears into the bread he sneaks a glance at Amy.

A pot of liquid is boiling on the stove as she chops something on his cutting board, and as he watches her maneuver easily around his kitchen he feels a curious sense of longing start to rise in his chest.

“Okay,” she says, and his head snaps up. “Push that soup to the side. The goal here is to minimize steam loss, so I’m gonna brief you now.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

She rolls her eyes, but the authoritative tone remains in her voice when she continues. “When I slide this bowl in front of you, you’re going to lower your face so that it’s immediately above the liquid. And then you’re just gonna breathe it in.”

“Like the way pop stars steam their vocal cords.”

“Sure. Yes. Ready?”

He nods, she pours the liquid from the pot into the bowl, and before he can react, his face is directly above a translucent, brownish-orange broth and a towel is being draped over his head.

“Are you kidnapping me?”

“It’s to keep the steam in. Shut up and close your eyes.”

He does, breathing deeply, and immediately starts coughing. “Wha – what is in this?”

“Don’t move!” Amy says indignantly, her voice muffled through the towel. “It’s apple cider vinegar, ginger, garlic, echinacea, and some peppermint. It should help with the congestion and clear some stuff up.”

“It’s spicy!”

Amy laughs. “You’ll get used to it. Keep breathing.”

He falls silent obediently, and as they lapse into a comfortable quiet he starts to feel it again.

The flu is definitely messing with his brain, but a part of him never wants to be sick without her again. Maybe she could take care of him every time he’s sick or hurt or sad. Maybe he could take care of her, too. Maybe he wants the comfort she brings when she’s here. Maybe her coat could find a permanent place draped over his armchair. Maybe it could stay – and maybe she could stay –

“Okay,” she says suddenly, making him jump almost guiltily. “It’s been like ten minutes – how’s the temperature?”

“Um, good,” he says, forcing his voice to remain casual. “It’s pretty lukewarm, actually. Not much steam left.”

Her voice says, “I think you’re done, then,” and then the towel is yanked off his head and he’s blinking in the bright lights of his living room.

She whisks away the bowl before he even has a chance to react, sliding it onto his countertop with a little flourish. “You can reuse that up to three times – it’ll probably still be good tomorrow. Just re-boil it. I’ll text you the full recipe for when you need to make more – you should probably do this twice a day until you feel better.”

“Um, okay. Thanks.”

She gives him a small smile, then passes him a handful of pills and a glass of water. “Take ‘em.”

He swallows them obediently as she holds up a pill organizer. “I’ve put a week’s supply in here, so you don’t have to figure out how much to take. You should be almost back to normal by the time it runs out, but if not, I’ll give you more.”

He gives her a petulant frown. “I’m not an old man.”

She snorts. “Don’t get sick and beg me like a baby, then.”

He laughs, and she smiles, wringing her hands almost nervously. “I think that’s mostly it – so, um, I’ll head out, let you get some rest – I’ll leave my peppermint and echinacea for you to use, I have plenty at home – ”

“Wait,” he says, much too quickly. “Do you – would you want to stay? I mean, if you’re busy, I totally get it, I just – I’m actually kind of sick of lying in bed all day, and, um, I’d love some company – I read an article about this documentary on cubism we could watch – “

“You’d watch a documentary about cubism with me?”

He gives her an embarrassed smile. “You brought me soup. It’s the least I can do.”

She blushes slightly and rolls her eyes. “Technically, Paul from Postmates brought you soup.”

“Then give me his number and get out of my house.”

Amy laughs, lively and bright, and Jake’s heart soars.

“Fine,” she says, pouring herself a glass of water. “But I’m finishing my scarf as we watch it.”

“Deal.”

And maybe it’s just a coincidence, maybe it’s fate, but when the precinct’s annual Secret Santa rolls around and Jake tears open the wrapping paper to find a familiar, hand-knit blue scarf, he can’t help but feel like the world is trying to tell him something.  

Or, maybe, one person is trying to tell him something.

And as he walks into the bullpen the next morning with his new scarf warm and secure around his neck, he finds it really, really hard to tell the difference.

#my fics #my b99 fics #jake x amy #b99 #brooklyn 99 #brooklyn nine nine #peraltiago #jake peralta x amy santiago #mine #b99 fall 2019 fic exchange

[lesbianperaltas]

i used to live alone before i knew you.

pairing: jake/amy rating: n/r word count: 2,398 a/n: this is my @b99fandomevents fic written for @winnietherpooh! happy halloween! i meant to have this out a couple days ago i apologise. i hope you like it! <3 big shoutout to @obsessivelymoody for reading this over for me. <3 summary: They sit back on their couch, Amy getting comfortable, placing her feet in Jake’s lap and he just looks at her—she’s not looking at him—and he thinks of how he’s never really had a person before her. He had always used to come home from a long case with a pack of beer and he’d watch Die Hard alone. It never used to be a problem until everyone slowly started to couple off in his friend group, and even then it never really got to him until he got a glimpse of what it feels like to have someone to hang out with and actually like to be around with. It was like slowly over time his partnership with Amy had started to become something more. They were friends then—friends that hung out sometimes after work, and somewhere Jake wanted more than just being friends. He wanted everything that Amy could give him.

(or, Jake and Amy, some polish food and hot cider.)

[ AO3 LINK. ]

It’s always the start of October that he feels it. He doesn’t know what it is—the leaves are starting to change colour, New York City is starting to get colder, and it’s starting to get darker. Stores have started putting up Halloween decorations in the windows, there’s new lattes to try and even better sweet treats to eat. It’s his favourite time of year. 

(Except, sometimes, when it’s actually Halloween, he’ll be working on a scene and he’ll see the numerous amounts of people with their children in costumes, and he’ll think of the last few Halloweens that he could remember with his father. It doesn’t always get to him, but Amy and Jake have been trying for a kid, and it’s just getting harder and harder to ignore the memories he’s desperately trying to heal from.) 

Jake and Charles had been working on a scene for a few hours now, he always hated doing door to door, but it had to be done. The faster they went through it the faster Jake could go home. He had plans. 

(Most of his plans were spending time with Amy on the couch, her stroking his hair while he rested his head in her lap watching house hunters and making bets on the couples.) 

“I just love this time of year,” Charles says as he touches his pen to a pumpkin head that’s been taped to the door. By the looks of it a kid must have drawn on little doodles. It makes Jake smile despite how tired he was tonight.

“I know Charles,” Jake pats his back and they knock on the door.

A woman answers with a child on her hip, funnily enough he’s wearing an orange shirt. Jake has to remember that there’s so many people that love Halloween for a completely reason that he loves Halloween. He smiles at the baby who’s holding a sippy cup in his hands.

“Hi, we just have a couple of questions,” Charles starts out and he’s squinting his eyes in a gooey way with a big smile that only Charles does towards babies. The baby of course is enthralled with Charles and smiles and giggles.

Damnit that’s cute, Jake thinks, before taking over the questions.

A couple doors later, they’ve done what they could for the night. It’s not quite dark yet but the sun has gone down and the sky is tinted with pink and orange clouds.

Charles drives them back to the precinct. He talks about Nikolaj and how excited he is to take him trick or treating. Jake just smiles, his best friend loves his kid. Sometimes it’s overwhelming, but Jake hopes to be just as overwhelming when he’s a father someday.

He texts Amy that he’s on his way back to the precinct. She had today off, she told him that she had plans on cleaning the apartment and running errands because they ran out of groceries. Most of their conversations today had been asking Jake what he wanted groceries wise since he out of the two of them made the meals given Amy’s track record. He looks back on their conversations and one of Amy’s replies saying, If you make another eggplant dick joke I will hit you with it and it won’t be pretty.

Jake had replied: babe that’s so hot. i’d love to get hit from a dicklike eggplant if it’s from you.

She stopped texting him after that.

*

When they get to the precinct Amy is waiting for him at her old desk across from him. She’s got one of Jake’s hoodies and jacket with a scarf that Karen had knitted for her last year with matching mittens. It’s not nearly as cold but she always needed to keep warm.

He thinks of the last time that she was sitting across from him at her old desk. It had made something inside of him flutter knowing that she was downstairs now. He smiles at her, she looks up from her phone and smiles at him.

“I didn’t know you were here.” Jake said, walking over to her and placing a hand on her arm.

She reaches out and cups his cheek. “I thought I would surprise you. I finished my to do list early.”

Jake laughs, “That doesn’t surprise me.”

Jake doesn’t realise that Charles is just standing there with a big grin. Amy gives Charles a look and he walks quickly and quietly to his desk, and it’s only then that Jake leans in to give Amy a quick peck on the lips.

She sits back down while Jake finishes up paperwork.

It takes him longer than he expected, but Amy is patient, she tells him about her day as he quickly types and he throws in a couple of sentences here and there. They co-exist in a way that he’s never felt with another person, and he knows that they’ve been together long enough but sometimes it just gets him that this was the person that he chose to love. He feels that flutter again, looking up at her, sitting where she used to sit and remembering how different they were back then.

And when he’s done she puts one mitten in her pocket and holds her hand out for him to take.

“Goodnight Charles,” Jake says over his shoulder.

“Goodnight Jakey. Have a good evening with Amy.” Charles says with a happy sigh.

Jake shakes his head with a small smile.

*

Jake and Amy used to have this tradition that every Friday they would try a new restaurant in their burrow courtesy of Charles’ blog. They would never tell him that they went there, but it had become something that Jake looked forward to. It was Friday, and Jake had been swamped at work and they hadn’t discussed where they wanted to go and it was too late now.

“Soooo,” Jake says, “how do you feel about polish food and house hunters?”

He gives her a second to think about it before adding quickly, “I know that we try something new every Friday but I’m kind of tired and just want to spend the rest of the evening alone with you.” His voice drops at the end, vulnerability was something that he was still working on after all these years of being together.

She just gives him a look that he knows all too well, but it still makes him feel warm every time she does it, and it’s normally followed by her reaching out to his cheek, her thumb caressing the side of his face with a warm smile that was only for him.

She nods, “I would like that.”

They walk to Amy’s car and he gets in the passenger seat putting his work bag in the back. Taylor swift blares through the speakers and he knows that it’s the mix CD that he made for her just because.

The drive is quiet, the volume is turned down low, he looks outside the window at all the shops they pass by and he listens to Amy humming song lyrics.

And then, he thinks, I am the luckiest person alive.

“I saw a really cute baby today.” Jake says after a while.

“I did too.” Amy dives in about the little boy who was helping push the cart with his mommy and the cute outfit he was wearing knowing that Jake would appreciate it because it had Star Wars on the front.

It used to scare him, thinking of his future child. It used to scare him because he didn’t know if he’d be a good dad, but then he looks at Amy, and he sees how her face lights up talking about the little boy and his mom and it just dissolves all of the fears away. He reaches out to take her hand, warming it up with his own.

“Our baby is going to be so cool.” Jake just says with a simple shrug.

That’s all there is too it. Their baby is gonna have two parents who love them and support them and be there for them unconditionally.

“The coolest.” Amy agrees with a smile.

*

It doesn’t take long for them to find parking, Jake reaches his hand out for her to take and they start walking to the polish place that Amy loves so much. When they first started dating it was like their place to go when they didn’t want to go too far and the owners knew them by now.

They order their food quickly and sit at one of the tables while they wait. They’re holding hands across the table and Amy is going on about her busy day tomorrow and how her mother is already planning Thanksgiving. And Jake just listens, he listens because it’s his favourite thing to do. Jake was loud in a lot of ways, he had something to say about everything, but if there was something that could shut his brain up, shut all his intrusive thoughts and doubts, it was Amy. He watches the way she uses her free hand to talk, and he thinks of how different they are now.

It was one of their first cases together as partners when Amy had took him to this place, it was only once, but they had been working for forty-eight hours on the case with little to no sleep and coffee was no longer strong enough, Jake thinks that he might have only eaten food that came from the vending machine and whatever Amy gave him out of pity. When they finally got a break in the case they didn’t know how to celebrate because it was too late to go to a bar. So, Amy took him to the next best place which was this exact polish place, and she ordered her usual.

This was when they didn’t know a lot of things about each other, Amy was looking at him like she was determining whether this was a good idea or not. Jake, in the middle of eating their food, had grabbed his hot chocolate and raised it in the air like he was about to give a toast before eventually he said, “We did good, Santiago.” Then he paused for a moment, “We make a really good team.”

He had forgotten that memory until they started dating, but that’s what he thinks about, staring at Amy again. His thumb caresses her hand. The bell rings, letting them know that their order is ready.

Amy smiles, jumping up from her seat and walks over to grab the bag.

“I’m so excited.” Amy says.

Jake laughs. It’s hard not to, her happiness is infectious.

*

Their routine goes like this: change into pajamas, Jake gets the plates out, Amy starts to scoop the food from the boxes onto the plate, Jake reheats the food while Amy turns the television on and finds their channel, Jake gets the tv trays out and sets them up while Amy goes back to the kitchen to grab the plates. They revolve around each other, like they’re doing a dance that they know so well.

When dinner is finished, Jake grabs the plates and does the dishes while Amy puts the leftovers away. She grabs two mugs out of their cabinet and places them on the counter while reaching for a packet of something in their tea cabinet. Jake is almost done with the plates and he turns around to see what Amy is up to. He can still hear the television but it’s low.

He peeks at what she’s doing, turning the kettle that Amy recently bought on. She holds up the pack of hot cider and waves it in Jake’s face.

“Figured we could drink something festive for a change tonight.” She says with a small smile.

Jake grabs one of the packets and opens it up just so he can sniff the cider goodness.

“My grandma used to always make me hot apple cider in the winter time. She always preferred it over hot chocolate. I wasn’t picky. Sugar is sugar.” Jake jokes with a shrug, wrapping his arms around Amy and resting his chin on her shoulder while she pours the hot water.

Amy smells like him and like home. He supposes there isn’t much of a difference. He presses a small kiss to her shoulder, letting her go to grab spoons for them to stir the powder.

Jake thinks of how when they have kids they can have their own traditions. Maybe their kids will prefer hot cider over hot chocolate—either way, he thinks, their kids will come home to a warm house, with a warm drink waiting for them, and endless amount of hugs and ears ready to listen about their day.

They sit back on their couch, Amy getting comfortable, placing her feet in Jake’s lap and he just looks at her—she’s not looking at him—and he thinks of how he’s never really had a person before her. He had always used to come home from a long case with a pack of beer and he’d watch Die Hard alone. It never used to be a problem until everyone slowly started to couple off in his friend group, and even then it never really got to him until he got a glimpse of what it feels like to have someone to hang out with and actually like to be around with. It was like slowly over time his partnership with Amy had started to become something more. They were friends then—friends that hung out sometimes after work, and somewhere Jake wanted more than just being friends. He wanted everything that Amy could give him.

He thinks of how far they’ve come and how Amy had become his person.

He doesn’t tell her this, he doesn’t think that he needs to, she just knows.

Amy turns to him now and giving him a small smile before she brings the mug that Jake bought her for Christmas last year up to her lips and turns back to their show and she laughs. One day, they’ll have their family, one day this space will belong to more people than just them, but right now, he thinks of just how happy he is to be able to come home to Amy everyday. It’s love and it’s warmth, and it’s everything Jake needs.

#peraltiago #peraltiago fic #jake x amy #b99 fic #jake peralta #amy santiago #b99 fall 2019 fic exchange #b99 fandom events #my fics

[letsperaltiago]

I call it magic when I'm with you |Jake x Amy|

So for my b99 Fall Fic Exchange 2019 I got to write for my fave @amyscascadingtabs and got these 3 prompts to inspire my story:

Halloween costume parties

Baking together (could be something Halloween-related or general fall coziness)

Peraltiago kids celebrating Halloween

I decided to combine all 3 of them (somewhat? I mean there’s no party but there’s the mention of costumes) with a main focus on nr. 2. Hope you like it even though I finished it so last minute and it’s kinda not what you asked for... I’m so sorry! I don’t know what happened. Started out good and next thing you know there’s Harry Potter sexy times going down... Anyways happy Halloween and fall-season to you, Johanna and everyone else on here. You’re sweetheart and I hope you still enjoy it though my take on your prompts is... alternative. 

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The sound of crunching leaves beneath her feet secretly provoked a happy, giddy feeling in Amy’s stomach and an extra pep in her walk as she made her way back from the deli down the street from their apartment. It was the day before Halloween, a Friday, and this just so happened to be her and Jake’s weekly common day off which had lead to the purpose behind her trip to the deli: Instead of simply handing out candy, the sergeant was going to (see: try to) bake cute Halloween-themed cookies for the cause. Today was truly a day of mysterious events. Not only was Amy Bad-at-anything-culinary Santiago-Peralta going to bake for innocent kids who didn’t know any better than to politely accept her cookies… She had also willingly gone grocery shopping and everyone knew that she far from handled anything colder than 60 degrees very gracefully. Yet Amy couldn’t help but smile just a bit as a fresh breeze played with both her hair and dead leaves in various shades of red, orange and yellow.

Also extra plump from all the unconscious smiling, her husband couldn’t help but notice the extra bright pink shade of her cheeks when she finally walked in the door with a stuffed paper bag.

“Not too cold?” He hurriedly made his way from the living room to where she was standing by the door to grab the paper bag from her grip.

“A bit,” she shrugged off her coat before putting it away along with her shoes. “But also kind of nice. Refreshing even.”

A scoff could be heard from kitchen the room where Jake was now in the midst of putting down the heavy bag and its content. “Amy Santiago enjoying the cold? Must be a lie.”

“Perhaps adding Peralta to my name changed me for the better,” was mumbled into Jake’s left ear suddenly, letting a tiny giddy shock run through him as an effect from feeling her arms wrap around his waist from behind him. Not that he minded one bit but he hadn’t noticed her making her way from the door to him. Instantly in a reaction to the pleasent surprise, a smile grew on his face and though she couldn’t see his face, it didn’t take much more than the slight change in the tone of his voice to tell her that he was smiling.

“Well… ” the affectionate touch had quickly captured Jake’s full attention causing him to stop his dutiful process of unpacking the groceries onto the counter as to allow himself to turn around in her grip on him to look at her. Their nose-tips briefly brushed across each other, bubbling chuckles dancing from their lips, accompanying their stupidly happy grins. There was barely what could be called space between them. A tiny readjustment was all it would take for them to get that loving lock of lips they always craved. Indeed Jake was in the midst of leaning in to kiss his wife whilst mumbling, “Guess I’m the best thing that has ever happened to you then-“ when a loud wail interrupted their little moment, this bursting their otherwise bulletproof bubble, just as their lips were about to come together and he’d just barely been able to sense that his wife’s lips were still cold from her trip to the deli. A sigh was the only thing Amy got to feel, not at all as satisfying but nonetheless replacing the kiss, before she drew back to shoot him an apologetic yet slightly amused smile.

Jake returned the exact same look. “Did you tell her to do that?”

In a split second Amy’s cheeky apologetic blush switched to a look of defence followed by a playful punch to his shoulder. “How dare you!”

Seriousness being a rare matter it all of course just earned her a soft laugh from Jake who put his hands in the air in what was supposed to look innocence as he slowly backed away from the kitchen towards the hall. “I’m just saying… She’s been napping peacefully ever since I put her down before you left for the deli so it seems rather suspicious that she just now, all of the sudd-“

“Shut up, Peralta,” she scowled picking up on where he’d left off unpacking the groceries, “… and feel free to collect your daughter since you two seem to be ganging up and framing me.”

Though she was clearly messing with him there was no way she’d have to tell him twice; apart from Amy, their new barely 3-month old daughter was Jake’s favorite human and every second with her, wailing furiously or making happy gurgling-sounds, was precious. Still, even after a few months into fatherhood, her daughter was even better and more perfect than he’d ever dared to expect. Actually he never actually knew what to expect since he was so damn scared, but Marcy was incredible. It felt amazingly incredible to not be able to imagine a life without someone that you used to not be able to imagine your life with.

“Hey, Marcipan,” he cooed as he carefully pushed open the door to the infants little, pastel yellow painted room. The little girl of course didn’t answer but simply let out another wail as to call out for someone’s (preferably mom or dad’s) attention.

“Shhh,” he shushed her calmly all while safely leaning down over her bassinet to cradle her tiny body his warm hands. Within seconds, making sure to be careful with the tiny human still as fragile as porcelain, his daughter was safely cradled in his arms and a warmth that had come to grow very familiar spread within him. “What do you say we go help mom bake some cookies, huh?”

He pecked Marcy’s forehead before slowly making his way out the room and down the short hall before continuing the one-sided conversation. “Just between the two of us, we have no choice but to help her,” there was a truth in the words that provoked a chuckle from the father’s own lips. “If we don’t she’s gonna burn the place down and we’ll have to spend Halloween in the streets. Your mom might be tough enough for that but I sure as hell am not.” Whether is was on purpose or not, his sentence ended as he rounded the corner to the kitchen.

“I heard that, you know…” His wife currently had her back turned to them, hands working on something on the kitchen counter and allowing Jake to admire the long, shiny pony tail flowing down her back. Pony tail meant serious business in the book of Amy Peralta-Santiago.

“Just being honest with her, honey.”

There was barely any time for her to react before she felt his figure’s presence besides her, presenting her her now awake and curiously observing daughter. A smile instantly appeared on the mother’s face, her hands interrupting whatever she was doing.

“Hi, baby,” she cooed sweetly ahead of bowing down to place a kiss, similarly to how Jake had just seconds ago, to her daughter’s soft forehead. “Did you nap well while mommy was gone? Or did you just spend the entire time plotting against me with your father?”

“Oh mommy, me and dad would never be mean to you,” Jake spoke in a high-pitched, phony voice as to take on his daughter’s role.

Amy straightened back up to take in the funny sight of her husband’s parody with one hand on her now popped hip and a suspiciously cocked eyebrow. Though there was no way she was actually mad at him, this kind of banter was a Peralta-Santiago trademark. Not a day went by without it and Jake incorporating their newborn daughter was definitely to his advantage.

“Hm,” she turned back to what appeared to be a bowl with mixed ingredients. “I don’t know if I believe you two…”

“Please believe us, mommy,” Jake continued his little sketch, following Amy’s movement away from them trying to close the remaining distance between them. “I napped really well and daddy just sat there thinking about how much he loves you and how he can’t wait to see you wearing that sexy Hermione costume he bought-”

Upon hearing those last few words slipping off her husband’s lips (her husband who was currently holding their tiny daughter in their arms!!) Amy’s head snapped back to him and away from where it was looking at what was slowly but somewhat surely becoming cookie dough. “Jake!” Though his wife’s eyes would forever and always be the most beautiful, soothing and perfect brown pair, for a second right there in that moment, he feared them and the threatening daggers they shot. “Don’t say stuff like that in front of Marcy!”

“Babe, she’s a baby,” he chuckled warmly to his defence, leaning in before tenderly placing kiss to his wife’s cheek followed by replacing them directly onto her ear so that his breathy whisper could hopefully cause shivers to run down her spine. “I could add so many more details about what you and I do when she’s asleep and she wouldn’t understand a thing.”

One side of Amy, the one that did quiver beneath the feeling of his whisper into her ear, wanted to give in to the tension her husband had managed to sneak into an otherwise very innocent and domestic moment.  Yet her contradicting side, the one that was eyeing their tiny daughter safely cuddled up in his arms, managed to fight her urge. Yes, it was a fact that the otherwise incredible arrival of their daughter had kept them from any particularly intimate activities. Whenever Marcy happened to somewhat sleep through the night the two exhausted parents made sure to use every precious second to catch up on the constant state of lacking sleep that they currently lived in. Yet she couldn’t get herself to act on her urges right in front of the tiny, innocent human.

“Jake…” Amy’s vocal chords barely managed to generate a mumble with a longing quiver as she fought the fight between giving in to the side of her that was simply a craving human and the side that was a parent.

Deep down she knew that they couldn’t go any further - at least not right now when her baby’s beautiful, innocent face was looking right at her. Nonetheless she couldn’t break the spell without allowing herself to give into the intrigue that her husband’s familiar lips waiting expectingly against her ear brought to life within her. There barely even time to acknowledge the movement before her neck and head had twisted just enough in his direction for her ear to be replaced by her lips. Years later and he still made her feel like a bubbleheaded love-sick teen.

“I know she’s a baby…” Amy whispered into the merge of their moving lips, somehow managing to keep up with Jake’s lips that happened to be persuasive as ever in the act of pursue this rush of affection for his wife. “… But we need to behave.”

“Uhummm,” as carefree as he was known to be, there was no way the mumble meant Jake planned on stopping. Itself the fact that he’d been able to keep Amy going, partially against her morals, for this long was a tiny victory that sparked the teasing competitive within him that he loved almost as much as her.

Though Amy kept telling herself that she was indeed about to break it up, Marcy letting out a tiny squeal beat her to it. The two enamoured adults quickly broke the embrace both instantly redirecting their wild gazes down at their fussy daughter. Both had to let out a small chuckle meanwhile Marcy looked anything but pleased by her parents’ lack of immersion in her presence.

“We pissed her off,” Jake joked before taking a step back from his position previously glued to his wife, allowing room to gently rock the infant which instantly reacted by quieting down. Still by the kitchen counter and having learned quite early into their new role as parents that Jake was very much capable of handling their daughter’s small tantrums on his own, Amy had resumed to the process of her Halloween cookie-experiment (Amy doing anything in the kitchen was an experiment, Jake had learned a long time ago).

“She’s tired of her dad being so obsessed with her mother instead of her.”

Jake could hear the smirk in her voice as she shuffled across the tiny kitchen to turn on the oven for her.

“That must be a big misunderstanding then,” he carefully repositioned the tiny human. Instead of cradling her carefully he was now holding her by the armpits, Lion King-stylez, facing him as he raised his arms to hold her at his eye level. “Isn’t that right, Marcipan?” He kissed his daughters forehead tenderly before holding her back out to look into her eyes. “You and I both know that you’re my favorite, don’t we?” his voice immediately indulged in his daughter’s universe, mushy and goofy,  only adding sweetness to the sight of him simultaneously nuzzling her tiny with his big nose.

Moments like these could only kindle a varm feeling in every corner of Amy’s body.

Since things were going so well for them she rarely gave it any thought, but in moments like this specific one it suddenly hit her that at some point Jake actually doubted his abilities as a parent. Yet here was, goofing around with their child like it was the most natural thing in the world, and Amy could only burst with pride at the sight. Not only had she witnessed Jake picking a tough battle in order to disobey the voices in his head telling him that there was no way he could be a better father than his own was; now she was also witnessing him, on a daily basis, being what she could only consider as being the most loving, dedicated and hard-working father to their daughter.

“I’m okay with that,” Amy smirked, making her way to the fridge to put the dough to rest. Jake’s eyes followed her, staying attentive for many reasons, as he carefully placed his daughter back into a cradled position in his arms. There was no way he was going to be let off with being right; something was coming to shut him up and all he could do was observe, wait patiently for his witty wife to pull out the last trick hidden up her sleeve. Her every move was noted.

Slowly closing the fridge was step one. The movement wasn’t exactly slow enough to seem suspicious, like it was leading to something else, but what happened afterwards or better known as step two would definitely blow his mind.

“… cause at the end of the day, as soon as I put on that costume… I’ll be your favorite.” Just in time to match her reaching the end of her venomous sentence, Amy tantalisingly turned around (right on that very same spot by the now closed fridge) and like a dagger stabbing him in his hopelessly devoted heart her deep, her brown eyes told him everything he needed to know. As so many times before she was more than right - and as so many times before he didn’t mind one bit. If she wasn’t smirking before (which she was) then she definitely was now and it was driving Jake crazy which with the biggest guarantee in the world she immensely enjoyed. Amy Santiago-Peralta had driven him crazy with great, legendary purpose for the past 11 years and by the looks of it she wasn’t planning on stopping; yet another fact Jake didn’t mind one bit.

He especially didn’t mind later that evening, after saving five entire batches of cookies from burning, when Marcy decided to stay asleep and his wife suddenly walked into their bedroom clad in a what Hogwarts would definitely define as a scandalous outfit: a way too revealing school girl outfit (if you asked Hogwarts - not Jake), red knee-socks and tie, only to be topped off with a magic wand. Needless to say that Jake, who’d quietly been sitting in bed on his phone playing Candy Crush (such a dad) dropped his jaw through their bedroom floor right at that very moment. Ambushed was not the word; this was so much worse (better).

“Hey, babe…” She smiled teasingly, posing by the end of the bed well knowing that she hypothetically could say or do nothing at all and it would still drive Jake insane. But where was the fun in that?

“Wanna explore my chamber of secrets?”

His reaction to those words, to her brief dismay, reminded her of Scully’s famous heart attacks. “Oh my God, Amy,” he basically gasped for air and Amy loved it as she took her time making her way around the bed before straddling him with the dopiest yet sexiest grin on her face.

“Jake Peralta!” She gasped playfully. “Is that a wand in your pocket, or are you just happy to see me?”

And though he loved his daughter more than anything in the world, he prayed that tonight would be the night Marcy Santiago-Peralta would make him proud and sleep soundly.

“Guilty as charged…” He returned the grin, having finally returned from his stroke-like state, only to put his phone aside to slide his hands all the way up her thigh to her waist, burying them under her robe to pick at the edge of her skirt. Amy Peralta-Santiago-Granger… You’ve definitely got me under your spell for the night.”

#b99 fall 2019 fic exchange #b99 fic #peraltiago fic #peraltiago #jake x amy #amy santiago #jake peralta #brooklyn nine nine #b99 #fanficition

[amydancepants-peralta]

sweater weather

Surprise, Kasia @kamekamelea!  I am your writer for @b99fandomevents Fall Fic Exchange ... and I’ve rolled with your prompt of adapting the lyrics of Sweater Weather, by The Neighbourhood.   I really, really hope you enjoy!  

sweater weather (also on AO3)

Jake’s hands tap impatiently along the edge of his car’s steering wheel as he makes his way downtown, his eyes turning to the clock on the dashboard at regular intervals.  The roads are relatively quiet, and staring at the numbers one more time, his foot presses a little harder on the accelerator.

He was running a little late, because he always was, but this time Jake had the legitimacy of a work-related issue up his sleeve.  The perp that he and Boyle had been building up a case on had, in a moment of what the criminal Kaminski called weakness, but Jake and Charles called stupidity, decided to rob the bodega around the corner from their precinct, in the middle of the day.  There had been so many credible eye-witnesses, most of whom worked within the nine-nine, that compiling statements had taken much longer than either of them had anticipated.  So much so, that time completely ran away from Jake, and if he hadn’t glanced at his watch half an hour ago, his tardiness could have been a lot worse.

This afternoon was another Santiago family gathering - this time to celebrate Amy’s niece Mariela, who was turning seven.  Thanksgiving was only a few weeks away, and he and Amy were hosting the family meal this year - their first time hosting together as husband and wife.  There were notes and binders and recipes on every surface of their apartment, all in aid of Amy’s carefully scheduled preparation of the meal, and he would move hell and high water to make sure nothing about this year’s gathering would end in disaster.  

A smile begins to appear on Jake’s face as he thinks about his wife - about the woman that not so long ago would have appeared way out of his league.  There was a time when Thanksgiving - hell, all of the holidays, really - represented nothing but just another reminder of everything he didn’t have.  But now, with Amy, he had a family.  And what’s more, he had hope.

The sun catches his wedding ring when he swivels the car into park and he fiddles with the band, ring twisting as he checks his appearance quickly in the rearview mirror.  Even after all these years, he still wanted to look his best for his in-laws - and being late and unkempt would only set him back from the recovery he’d made since the evening of ‘and another thing’.  Adjusting the collar of the sweater he’d thrown on back at the precinct, Jake gives his reflection a quick shrug, locking up and heading towards the party.

There was a slight downwards slope in the park the Santiagos had chosen for their festivities, giving Jake a vantage point as he approached.  The sound of fallen leaves crunching underneath his sneakers was soon drowned out by the contagious squeals of children playing, familiar voices calling out ‘Tag, you’re it!’ as they race around the playground attached to the picnic area.  He spots Amy quickly, her smile standing out amongst the other adults as she pushes one of her nephews on a swing, and Jake feels tiny butterflies begin to hatch in his stomach at the sight.  One day, someday soon, that might be Amy with a child of their own.  

Seventeen weeks and one day ago, he and Amy had been at Shaw’s, enjoying some post-work drinks - which in itself was nothing particularly momentous.  And to this day he can’t explain it, but one minute he was at the bar ordering drinks for himself and his wife, and the next minute he was turning around, watching her laugh with friends, and he knew.  

That it was time.  For them to start trying - to actively attempt to start a family of their own.  It was as non-sensical as a crossword puzzle leaning him towards marriage, but this epiphany was as strong as the last.  He’d pulled her from the bar less than an hour later, waiting until they were in the comfort of the four walls of their home before telling her how he felt.  Her smile could have lit up the night sky, and by the same time the next day, there was a carefully laid out binder taking pride of place on the desk in their bedroom.

And sure - there was definitely an added bonus to Mega Organised Sexy Times, if only for it’s guaranteed increase in regularity (not that there was ever any problem in that department).  But there was more to it than that.  There had always been love between them - even in their most passionate moments, it was still about making love.  Now, there was this added sense of anticipation - that maybe this time would be the right time, and that soon their family of two would become three.   He’d be lying if he said that his fears had gone away completely - but he knew, more than anything, that this was his chance to fight away his doubts.  Break the cycle, and prove to himself - and anybody that cared to listen - that he was not his father.

As he nears closer Amy looks up from her nephew, face lighting up in a bright smile when she notices his arrival.  She’s wearing the same dress she wore to the moonlight cinema last month (the selfie of them at sunset still holding prime position as his lock screen), covered in a denim jacket he’s seen a hundred times before, but she still manages to surprise him with her beauty.  And he hopes that his heart never fails to skip a beat like it has right now, as she relegates Swing Pushing duty to somebody else before heading in Jake’s direction. 

It occurs to him as he slows down his pace, meeting her halfway, that he had always loved the idea of holding the world within the palm of his hand, but nobody could ever have told him that the world would one day come in the shape of just one person.  

Amy leans in for a kiss when she’s finally in front of him, wrinkling her nose when she pulls away, and he knows its because of the Pumpkin Spice latte he had earlier at work.  Jake loved the drink, and she decidedly did not, and the first time he’d had it after they had started dating, it had led to her instigating a Total Kiss Ban.  It had lasted a total of three hours.  The compromise, as so declared that day, was a compulsory follow-up mint, and he pats the empty pocket of his jacket in way of apology.  

The wrinkled nose smooths and she gives him an affectionate eye roll, one hand moving from his neck to his shoulder.  “I’m so glad you could make it.”

“No place I’d rather be, babe.  I’m sorry time ran away from me, though.”

Her hair swings with the breeze as she shakes her head.  “I heard about Kaminski from one of my officers.  Hard to believe he could have been so brazen.”

“Idiotic is the word I prefer to use.”

She giggles, and no matter how many times he hears it, he still feels a flush of pride run through him.  “Same, same.” she responds with a smile. 

He’s about to ask her how everything was going when nine-year-old Mason comes running up to them, the dirt smeared across his face doing nothing to conceal his smile.  “Tio Jake, Tio Jake!  You gotta come see this fort me and Josh made!”

“A fort?  Heck yeah, I gotta see this!”  Jake feels Amy’s hand slide down his arm with a quick squeeze as he follows Mason towards the pre-built picnic table area, where an obvious extension fortified by spare chairs and blankets had been created.  There’s a sense of fulfilment that runs through him whenever he gets called Tio Jake - for the longest time, he had been certain that he would never been anybody’s Tio.  And honestly, he’s never been happier to be proven wrong.

His hand lifts one of the layers of the fort (only a Santiago gathering in at outside space could result in such an abundance of blankets), eyes widening at the contents inside - action figures! there are SO many action figures in here! - and he turns to Mason with a grin.  “This is awesome!”

“Yah-huh!” He nods in agreement, grabbing Jake by the hand and pulling him into the fort with little regard for the height difference between Jake and the roof’s structure.  Quickly, Jake ducks to his knees, desperate to avoid anything that could compromise the integrity of such great craftsmanship.  

It’s another half hour before Mason and three other Santiago children Jake had been playing with are called away from the fort, tiny legs racing towards the central table at the promise of pumpkin pie.  Retreating from the fort, Jake talks to David briefly, trying his best not to notice the perfectly grown moustache Amy’s brother had begun to grow in support of Movember, simultaneously squashing any secret plans he had to try and grow his own.  Despite Amy’s not-so-secret love for them, there’s no way he could cultivate such a look (besides, the undercover department of the NYPD actually had some perfectly acceptable fakes that were readily at his disposal).

Amy rescues him shortly after, deftly brushing off conversation of David’s upcoming Captain exam by telling him that their mother needed him for a specific duty.  He departs in a haste, and she winks at Jake as he leaves, whispering that no such job exists, but she could tell that he’d had his fill of David for the day.  She drops a chaste kiss to his lips, and Jake knew that she loved that he wasn’t the biggest fan of David’s, purely because she wasn’t.

A cool breeze cuts through the surrounding trees, their limbs bending to submission while the once swept-up leaves begin to break free of their piles, and Amy shivers slightly.  Instinctively Jake wraps his arms around her shoulders, pulling her closer and smiling as she eagerly snuggles her head into his chest.  Her face burrows into the fabric of his sweater, chest expanding as she breathes him in, and Jake’s smile grows bigger at the sight.  He can still remember their first night together, how amazing she looked with her head against his pillow, the tiniest of smiles on her face as she mumbled that it smelled of him.  He knew he was a goner then, and he still is now.  

Amy lifts her head, blushing when she realises she’s been caught out, and Jake throws her a wink, tightening his grip around her shoulders.  This was his favourite time of the year, the cooler air inviting snuggles at all hours of the day.  Lazy sleep-ins wrapped up together encouraged - if not demanded - by his drowsy wife.  Hot chocolates on the regular, extra marshmallows floating along the top of his mug without prompting.  

The idea that someone like him could have moments like those for the rest of his life, still seemed crazy.  But Amy was the only person Jake could imagine building a life with.  

There had been a lot of opportunities, over the past few years, to worry about what was to come.  Speed-bumps that had been thrown at them by the universe:  tests that came in multiple forms, all with the same purpose of pointing out what they already knew - that no matter what happened, Jake and Amy would always have each other.

He’d spent countless hours with his toes digging into the sand of the beaches of Florida, back turned from the world he refused to an active part of.  Kept his eyes trained on the coastline, forever wishing that a way to walk on water would present itself on command.  If there was ever a chance to walk away and start all over again, it was in that overheated state with it’s ridiculously cold pizza.  But whenever Jake felt at his lowest, his mind would turn to Amy, and how he knew she would be working on solving their case right at that very moment, and the memory of her smile - the one reserved for solving the most frustrating of puzzles - became his calm in the storm.  

And so he waited, for six long months.  And she never left his mind for a minute.

The brick walls of the prison cell that made up his home for eight weeks had been cool to the touch, the bricks just porous enough for Jake to be able to feel the anguish cries of previous residents whenever his hands rested against them.  This time, he had two photos of Amy to keep him centred, positioned by his side just as she would have been at home, and by the time his freedom had been restored he had committed to memory every single pixel.  And then, by the grace of all that is good, the real thing was standing in front of him in Shaw’s, offering to buy a free man a drink, and he knew that their forever needed to start as soon as possible.

And now, they were on the cusp of starting life’s biggest adventure together.  There was so much left unknown about what their future could bring - one child, or many (although Amy drew the line at replicating her and her seven brothers).  Perhaps they would raise a family of crime-fighting geniuses - the perfect combination of his determination and her brilliant mind forging an unstoppable team of protectors of justice.  Or maybe they would be creators - dancers, chefs, singers and writers … all or none of the above, there was one thing that Jake knew that they would be.  And that was happy.

Moving behind Amy, Jake takes advantage of their height difference by wrapping his arms around her, pulling her back closer to his chest as they stand together, watching the Santiago cousins retreat from their parents and return to playtime.  Amy’s hands are quick to rest against his, and even quicker to retreat under the cuffs of his sweater, soft fingers brushing against his skin, seeking warmth.  He lets out a soft chuckle, burying his nose into her hair as she squeezes her hands around each forearm, and his grip tightens ever so slightly.  

Perhaps if he had known while in that strange Floridian universe where ATVs were standard modes of transportation and his hair represented a porcupine; that afternoons like this were waiting for him in the not too distant future, he would have tried a little harder to play the role of Larry Sherbert.  Or maybe he would have jumped onto the next flight to New York, Figgis be damned, denying the universe any chance to keep them apart when together was so much better.

There are just some things he’ll never really know for sure.  His future with Amy was not one of them.  

Her thumb begins tracing patterns along the edge of Jake’s arm, and Amy’s touch brings Jake’s head back out from the clouds, focusing on the present as he hums in contentment.  

“It’s a pretty great view, isn’t it?” Amy asks, the smile on her face growing as she watches her niece Amelia tackle an unsuspecting Mason from behind.

Jake cranes his neck, watching his wife watch the children play, and her smile makes his.  “The best,” he replies, and the tone in his voice makes her turn slightly until their eyes meet.  Her face turns red as she blushes, one hand sneaking out from underneath his sleeves, pulling on the zipped edge of his jacket until they join in the middle for a gentle kiss.  

She sighs softly as they part, hand quickly returning to it’s original position as Jake rests his head against Amy’s.  They’re silent for a long moment, before his wife breaks the silence.

“You want to go back down to the fort, don’t you?”

His lips twist into a grin.  “I really do.”

She laughs, the sound of her giggles vibrating through to Jake’s chest as she pulls away from their cuddle.  “Go on, then!”

“You’re the best Ames,  iloveyousomuchokaybyeee!”  His hands squeeze hers quickly as they part, throwing her his happiest smile as he runs back towards Fort Santiago.

* * * *

Amy watches with a contented smile as her husband chases her nieces and nephews around the park, their excited screams bubbling into laughter as they near the now impressively large fort.  There were a lot of things for her to be thankful for this coming Thanksgiving, but having Jake in her life was always going to be the top of her list.

She flicks the inside of her wrist slightly, eyeing off the time displayed on her watch’s face, and begins to plan their polite exit within the hour.  This afternoon had been great, and time with her family was always important, but her period was five days late and there were nine different brands of pregnancy tests burning a hole in her purse.  She wanted to go home, sit with her husband on the floor of their bathroom, and find out together if all the things they had been dreaming for were finally about to come true.

She’d never been one for big adventures, until Jake had stumbled into her life, and now she can’t think of anything greater.  Because with him by her side, she could take on anything.

The two of them were about to become three - she could feel it in her heart of hearts - and Amy couldn’t wait for their adventure to begin.  

#phew #so glad I made it before the deadline #my writing #b99 fall 2019 fic exchange #b99 fic #peraltiago fanfiction #b99 fics #peraltiago fluff #TRYING #fall goodness #b99fic #jake x amy fic

[joysmercer]

in daylights, in sunsets, in midnights, in cups of coffee (how about love?)

Summary:

Rosa rolls her eyes. “Besides, I never drink coffee.”

Gina lowers her phone and leans forward; her Twitter updates can wait. “Rosa Diaz, are you telling me that you’ve never had a Pumpkin Spice Latte?”

(An AU where Rosa's a Target Sales Associate and Gina's a barista for the Starbucks inside.)

Notes:

This is my entry for the b99 Fall 2019 Fic Exchange, written for @thirteenbythirteen and in response to her prompt of "Gina convinces Rosa to try Pumpkin Spice Lattes (canon-divergence/AU)." This is an entirely new genre for me but I really enjoyed writing this, and I hope you like it!

Thank you @b99fandomevents for organizing the exchange, @letsperaltiago and @cheddar-the-dog for your valuable help with editing this, and @darkrosemind for your amazing advice, encouragement, and support, and for letting me rant to you about this for a week straight 💕💕

The title is from the song "Seasons of Love" from the musical Rent. Also, for those of you who care about such things, the events of this fic most closely parallel those in seasons 4-5 in canon, although some things are switched around.

Read the Full Fic on Ao3

–––––––––––––––––––––––––––––

September

Gina Linetti is doing exactly what she should be doing as a Starbucks Barista working during peak-lunch hours on a Wednesday afternoon: sitting at a table by herself, playing Kwazy Cupcakes and live-tweeting her scores. Most individuals would regard such behavior as something along the lines of “shirking responsibilities,” but Gina rarely pays attention to trivial matters like “professional obligations”—she has a social media following to maintain, after all.

(Also, because the Starbucks she works at is located inside of a Target and hardly anyone goes shopping at one o’clock in the middle of the week, Gina doesn’t have work to do and has to find other ways to occupy herself.)

Even with the shortage of customers, there is more than enough activity throughout the store to keep Gina (and her fans, via Instagram Live) entertained: Charles Boyle is setting up an “exotic culinary delights” food cart despite being explicitly told multiple times that Target does not offer samples; in Electronics, Hitchcock and Scully are watching TV while Jake Peralta bounces a rubber ball off of the back of Hitchcock’s head; behind them, Amy Santiago is taking inventory in (and completely reorganizing the layout of) the Stationary aisle. 

Privately, Gina thinks she’s a much better Sales Associate than any of them (although every time she says so, Terry Jeffords, the Floor Manager, is quick to remind her that she’s technically not even a Target employee, and Raymond Holt, the Store Manager, asks her to stop crashing their staff meetings. Gina disagrees—being a Sales Associate is not a job; it’s a state of mind.)

Gina watches the chaos for a while and contemplates offering to choose a new wardrobe for Amy (those formal blouses and loafers are so boring), but before she can, the unmistakable thud of stomping combat boots starts to resonate through the store. A few seconds later, Rosa Diaz marches in, carrying a motorcycle helmet under one arm and wearing a leather jacket over her red shirt. Now that’s a fashion choice Gina can get behind.

“Rosa, you’re late. Also, leather jackets are against uniform regulations,” Amy says. 

“Shut up, Santiago, or I’ll tell Holt you’ve been hiding those accordion folders you like from customers.”

“I file hard, I need strong tabs!”

That’s it. Gina can't let this particular conversation between Rosa and Amy go on any longer. After all, their discussions always turn dull sooner or later, and this one is very clearly sooner. “Ooh, Rosa, tell us, where were you this fine morning?” she calls from her table. 

Rosa scowls. “I was up late fixing Tom Hardy’s car, then some moron sent in a bulk-order of earrings that they needed for some party tonight, so I had to work on those, and then I overslept. And now I need a nap.” Rosa starts towards the breakroom, ignoring everyone’s bewildered stares (while none of Rosa’s extracurriculars is news to Gina, evidently, none of the others know how to stalk people on Google). 

Just as Rosa’s about to enter the room, however, the door swings open from the inside, causing her to jump back in surprise. Holt and Terry walk out past her, followed closely by a man in an exterminator’s uniform. They talk between themselves for a few minutes before the exterminator leaves and Holt and Terry turn toward everyone else.

“Attention, team, the breakroom is currently off-limits,” Holt announces. “Aubrey Robinson, who manages our Starbucks”—Holt gestures vaguely behind him, in Gina’s direction—“has graciously allowed us to use theirs instead.” 

Gina hides a grin. The Starbucks “breakroom” is more of a closet, and she’s pretty sure that it hasn’t been used (or cleaned, for that matter) in multiple years. She’s been using the Target breakroom for so long now that she considers it her own.

“Wait, why is it closed? Charles and I were going to watch a movie there this afternoon!” Jake exclaims. 

“No, you weren’t; we’re meeting my brother for lunch, remember? He’s upset that I haven’t introduced you to him yet,” Amy says. 

“Oh, yeah. Cool, cool, cool.” Jake’s eyes widen with a mixture of panic and eagerness, and Amy looks as though she’s trying hard not to smile.

Oh, that’s right, Jake and Amy are dating, Gina reminds herself. She keeps forgetting that little tidbit of office gossip no matter how many times Jake mentions it. 

Terry coughs. “Actually, Jake, that’s exactly why we’re closing the breakroom. Someone left the popcorn out the last time you guys watched a movie, and that lead to a rat infestation. Now we have to explain to Corporate why the TV is being used for something other than Target advertisements.”

“So I don’t get my nap because you dweebs didn’t clean up after yourselves?” Rosa glares around the group, and the terror everyone else’s faces makes Gina snicker. 

“I will notify you all once the infestation has cleared up. That is all for my morning announcements. Dismissed,” Holt says, ending the meeting.

As everyone else goes back to what they were doing, Rosa walks over to Gina and collapses into the seat across from her, using her foot to drag another chair from a neighboring table towards herself and stretching her legs onto it. She then proceeds to pull a nail cutter out of her pocket and begins to enlarge a knot in the wood of the table with one hand while stifling a yawn with the other. Gina watches all of this, fascinated, but quickly averts her gaze when Rosa catches her.

“What?” Rosa snaps.

“You look tired.” 

“Shut up, Gina.”

“You should ask someone to get you a cup of coffee,” Gina advises, mostly because she knows that Rosa hates both small-talk and personal conversation, and it’s fun to irritate her for no reason.

“Isn’t that your job?” Rosa rolls her eyes. “Besides, I never drink coffee.”

Gina stares at her in shock. “Wait, what?” 

“Mhmm. Only herbal tea. The ladies in my quilting circle introduced me to it,” Rosa says nonchalantly as she continues damaging office property.

Gina lowers her phone and leans forward; her Twitter updates can wait. “Rosa Diaz, are you telling me that you’ve never had a Pumpkin Spice Latte?”

“Absolutely not. When I do drink coffee, it’s the strongest stuff they have. Go big or go home, you know.” Rosa blows the shavings that she created off of the table. “Also, why do you even care? Aren't they too ‘basic,’ or whatever, for your taste?” she asks, making air-quotes with her fingers.

Gina scoffs. “Bitch, I made it into the cultural icon it is today. Who do you think came up with the term ‘PSL’ in the first place? It’s a right of passage try it at least once.” 

Rosa raises her eyebrows. “Right of passage to what, exactly?”

“Oh, Rosa, Rosa, Rosa. You poor, Pumpkin-Spice-Latte-less Rosa. You have so much to learn,” Gina says, shaking her head. 

Rosa shoots her a withering look, but before she can respond, Charles walks up to them and requests Rosa’s help in assembling his food cart.

“Ugh, fine. I guess my break’s over,” Rosa says. She grabs the nail cutter from where it’s lodged into the table and stands up. “See ya.”

“Bye.” Gina waves her off. In the back of her mind, she begins to come up with a plan.

Read the Full Fic on Ao3

#brooklyn nine nine #b99 fanfic #dianetti fanfic #rosa diaz #gina linetti #rosa x gina #gina x rosa #dianetti #peraltiago fanfic #brooklyn nine nine fanfiction #amy santiago #jake peralta #peraltiago #myposts #coffee shop au #retail au #b99fandomevents #b99 fall 2019 fic exchange #c: rosa diaz #c: gina linetti #p: dianetti {rosa & gina} #c: jake peralta #c: amy santiago #p: peraltiago {jake & amy} #in cups of coffee #thirteenbythirteen #myfics #my writing

[megdashwood]

Of Ghosts and Pumpkins

hey @vernonfielding!! i’m sorry for making you wait until the last minute but here is the fic i wrote for the @b99fandomevents Fall Fic Exchange inspired by your prompts „ghost story“ and „jake vs. a pumpkin carving tool“. It ended up a bit different from what I imagined in the beginning but I hope you enjoy it nevertheless!

(a huge thank you to @kamekamelea, @outofinspo, @cheddar-the-dog and especially @b99peraltiago! without them this fic would be a half-finished, unedited mess.)

read on ao3

„Gina, I already hate you for making me do this.” Jake turns around to better judge Gina’s reaction to his accusation when his head hits something strangely wet.

He turns his head and realizes he is face to face with a hand. But not just any hand. The hand seems to have broken out of the wall and looks like it has been dunked into a bucket of red paint. It instantly takes Jake back to a gruesome murder he investigated a few months ago where the perp had completely dismantled the entire body of the victim. Not something he enjoys remembering.

The “What the hell” he is about to utter gets stuck in his throat when the light goes out without any flickering or heads-up.

It takes his eyes a moment to adjust but even when they do, he can’t make out Gina or any of the other people they entered the house with when he looks around the room. It seems like they have vanished without leaving any trace when he was occupied with the sudden darkness and the hand.

Speaking of, Jake takes a few steps back to bring some distance between himself and the body part still sticking out of the wall in front of him. The streaks of what he supposes must be blood look darker and less revolting without the light on but the image of the hand when it was only inches from his face is still fresh on his mind.

The room that was filled with quiet, excited chatter before is completely silent now that apparently anyone but Jake has disappeared from it. That is why Jake can actually hear the fluid from the hand slowly dripping onto the floor.

That finally shakes him out of his trance, and he rushes through the door to the next room, making sure to give the hand a wide berth.

The next room doesn’t do much to calm Jake’s pounding heart. It is only a little brighter than the room he has just left and is completely void of any other people as well. If Jake had to classify the room he’d say the closest thing it resembles is a living room based on the sofa and armchair sitting in the middle in the room and facing a tv straight out of the 80s that surely can’t be working anymore but who the hell stores this many mannequins in his living room? Jake is no one to judge other people’s design choices and he would not say anything against some statues placed in a living room, but he draws the line at mannequins wearing outfits that seem to stem straight out of the costume department of a circus.

When he tries to decide whether it’d be smarter to leave the room through the door to the left or cross the room to enter a room the seems to be significantly brighter, he realizes that one mannequin, the one dressed like a clown, is slowly but in one smooth motion turning its head towards him until it locks eyes with Jake. He stares into the strangely human eyes for a terrifying second and then charges out of the door to his left.

When he takes a look around, he thanks everyone that might listens that this room is devoid of any creepy mannequins or hands sticking out of walls. Sadly, there’s no sign of Gina in this room either. In fact, he is again alone in this room, but he can’t shake the feeling that someone is watching him. Jake is slightly tempted to turn around and close the door he just stumbled through to make sure the clown mannequin doesn’t follow him, should it mysteriously also gain the ability to walk but solely the possibility that turning around might lead to him staring in the white face of the mannequin makes him move and he leaves the room as quickly as possible.

Nevertheless, the feeling of being followed doesn’t subside. This notion is amplified when he hears the old floorboards crack about two feet behind him. Suddenly he regrets every horror movie he’s ever watched. A thousand possibilities of who (or what) might be behind him creep up in his mind and the only thing he wants is to get out of this damn house. Not caring anymore on which way he will accomplish that, Jake tries to look out of a window to figure out the best escape route. What he is not prepared for though, it to directly look into black eyes framed by the whitest and scraggiest face he has ever seen. The scream Jake lets out at the sight is the most un-John-McClanest sound he has ever made; he is not very proud to admit. He turns around on his heels and starts running, not caring if he is nearing an exit as long as he gets as far away from whatever that was as possible.

By the time he has finally recovered slightly from the shock, he has no idea where he is anymore. Although he frantically sprinted past several other disturbing and creepy objects, he has not seen a single person and there’s no trace of Gina at all. So, when he eventually does see a person, who doesn’t look like she is the embodiment of one of his nightmares, he rushes to stop her by grabbing her arm. “Please, help me get out of here.”

The woman turns around and Jake has to gulp but this time not because half of her face is missing or sporting any other abnormality but because wow, she is beautiful.

She doesn’t look too amused though when she says: “Just so you know, I’m a cop so if you try something stupid in an attempt to get with me, I could have you arrested.”

“To be honest I don’t really care right now as long as you get me out of here”, Jake admits sheepishly.

“Okay? “The woman still seems skeptical but stops trying to free her arm of Jake’s grip who is still holding on to her in panic. “Then come on. Let’s try this way. I’m quite sure it’s the shortest way out.” She starts walking into the direction Jake just came from, but he finally lets go of her and doesn’t move.

“What are you doing? I thought you were so eager to leave?”

“I am”, Jake confirms, “but I came that way. And it was so scary. I don’t want to go back there.”

The woman rolls her eyes but there is a smile tugging at her lips. “What did you expect from a haunted house?”

“Honestly, I don’t know”, Jake confesses, “maybe some actors hiding under bedsheets?”

The woman laughs and Jake is sure that is the most beautiful sound he has ever heard. Hell, he’d even stay longer in this creepy house if it meant hearing it again.

“Also, my friend vanished right in the beginning and it’s super scary being in here on your own.” Jake tries to save some dignity.

“I’m here on my own too and do you see me screaming and holding onto strangers in panic?”, the woman retorts.

Jake has to admit he hadn’t even realized that she was in here on her own as well and she did indeed not seem scared at all.

“How are you not scared? I’m sure I had at least ten heart attacks in the last five minutes.”

“I have seven brothers and half of them used to think that scaring others almost to death was the funniest thing ever and the other half was scared of literally everything. Somehow, I ended up between the groups, calming down the scared ones. I’m pretty much immune to anything scary. I also see a lot of scary things on the job each day.” She shrugs but Jake can hear some pride in her voice as well.

“Well, I’m a cop too but I’m apparently not as fearless as you are. I bet you are a badass cop.” Usually Jake would never be this quick to compliment someone else on their job in a way that makes it sound like he is not the best detective in the world (which he is) but something about this woman makes it very hard to think straight and it doesn’t exactly help that he hasn’t completely recovered from the last scare yet.

The woman smiles and although it is quite dark, Jake could swear that the tips of her ears are turning a light shade of red. “Thanks. I’m Amy by the way.”

“I’m Jake.” He has barely uttered the words when something brushes his arm and out of the corner of his eyes, he sees a shadow glide out of the room. Jake can’t help it; he lets out another high-pitched scream. Amy stifles a laugh beside him. “Okay, let’s get you out of here.”

Amy takes his hand and pulls Jake along.

It is way less scary with Amy by his side, but Jake still tries to make conversation to distract himself from all the spooky things they encounter on their way to the exit. To his surprise the conversation flows a lot more naturally than he’d ever thought possible with anyone he has met barely five minutes before. He starts by asking her about her job (she’s a beat cop at the 64 but from the sound of it not far from making detective) but they quickly end up arguing about the best cop movie (which is mostly Amy’s fault since she keeps insisting Training Day is better than Die Hard).

Although Jake is even now slightly terrified by the haunted house, he finds himself wishing the way out would take even longer. Besides being easy to talk to Amy is also one of the smartest and funniest people he has ever met, and she is still holding his hand.

Eventually though they reach the exit and while Jake is glad to finally be out of the haunted house, he doesn’t want to let Amy go yet.

Quickly trying to think of an excuse to spend more time with her, Jake looks around the fall festival that is taking place in front of the haunted house.

“Do you want to carve some pumpkins? I’m sure mine is going to be way more awesome than yours.” Based on their conversation so far, Jake had gotten the impression that Amy is rather competitive herself and he is rather pleased to be proved right when she responds with a smile and a dismissive “You wish.”.

They basically race each other to the pumpkin craving booth, where they are handed a pumpkin and a knife each.

Once they’ve sat down across from each other, Jake takes a closer look at his knife and realizes that while Amy has gotten a perfectly fine metal knife, his is suspiciously pink and plasticky.

“Hey, they’ve given me a children’s safety knife. That’s not fair.”

“Oh, are you getting cold feet? Don’t think I will let you get out of the bet that easily.” Amy smirks and gets started on carving her pumpkin.

Not wanting to have a temporal disadvantage in addition to being handicapped by his cutting utensil, Jake starts carving his pumpkin too with only a few more complaints. The next 15 minutes are spent working on the pumpkins intently, but also with a lot of conversation and trash-talking each other.

Jake has to remind himself to focus on the pumpkin and not on Amy several times and it doesn’t exactly help that his knife always bends the other way when he tries cutting the pumpkin. As a result, what otherwise might have had chances of becoming a decent carved pumpkin ends up looking like a raccoon went to town on it by the time Amy announces that she is finished.

“Okay, I don’t think mine is going to get any better anymore. Let’s get over with”, Jake more or less admits his defeat and rightly so.

Because when they set their pumpkins next to each other to compare them, the difference is obvious.

Amy tries to stifle a chuckle. “What the hell is that meant to be?”

“It was supposed to say, » Welcome to the party, pal! « but that was hard to achieve with that thing”, Jake responds waving around the pink safety knife.

“I guess that means I have won”, Amy states not without glee.

Indeed, her pumpkin has a pair of glasses and a lightning bolt carved into it with care. It is very impressive considering it hasn’t taken her no more than 15 minutes.

“Fine, it does look better than mine.” Jake tries to sound upset but to be honest he has a hard time keeping the smile off his face at the small victory dance Amy is doing. “But I’d like to see you try and carve a pumpkin with something that probably can’t even cut ice cream.”

Amy laughs and tucks her hair behind her ears with both hands.

“Okay, it might have been slightly unfair on you. How about I make it up to you by taking you out for coffee tomorrow?”

Jake can’t believe his luck but before he can respond, someone is sliding into the seat next to him.

“Here you are, I almost thought you got lost in the haunted house and carried off into the realm of the dead by the ghosts.”  Jake can sense that Gina is genuinely relieved to have found him despite her joking tone.

“I did get lost. If I hadn’t run into Amy”, he gestures into the direction of the woman in question, who looks slightly confused by the exchange happening in front of her, “I’d probably still be in there hiding behind some curtain. Speaking of, where the hell did you hide? You left me all alone in that creepy house.”

“To be honest I didn’t notice that you stayed behind until two rooms later and when I went looking for you, I ran into this good-looking actress. I think she was supposed to be the bride of Frankenstein or something. Lots of dark curls and very secretive. And not to brag but I got her number. I’d apologize for not finding you, but it seems like I have done you a favor in the end.”  She looks between Jake and Amy. “I don’t want to stress you, boo, but I was about to leave. So, if you don’t want to walk home, you better get your date sorted out now.”

Jake is aware that face is burning when he turns to Amy, whose cheeks are covered in a dark red color as well.

“Does the offer to get coffee still stand?”, he asks cautiously, hoping against hope that Amy hasn’t changed her mind with Gina being so upfront and all.

“Sure, give me your number and I’ll text you about that.” Amy hands him her phone.

Gina mumbles something that sounds like “acting like love-struck teenagers” under her breath when Jake types his number into Amy’s phone but when he looks up to see Amy smiling at him sheepishly, he doesn’t even care.

-

Gina and Jake have almost arrived at his place when he receives a new text from an unknown number.

Hey, Jake! There’s this nice coffee place at the intersection of Rose and Branch. Meet you there at 5 pm tomorrow? Maybe we can watch some horror movies at my place afterwards? You’re kind of cute when you’re scared. Amy

If it wasn’t sort of precious, Gina would point out that Jake’s smile is big enough to make him look like a Jack O’Lantern.

#b99 fall 2019 fic exchange #b99fandomevents #inka tries #fic #brooklyn nine nine #brooklyn 99

[b99fandomevents]

Welcome back to all the writers, readers, and all-around amazing folks of the B99 fandom! We had such a blast putting on the Summer 2019 Fic Exchange, and we’re excited to announce that registration is now open for our Fall 2019 event! 

The mechanics for this fic exchange are similar to last summer’s, with a few twists and tweaks:

When signing up, you each will provide 3-5 fall-related prompts that you’d like someone to fill. These prompts should either be set in the autumn season itself or just be related to fall imagery. (Think: leaves, colors, scarves, pumpkins, cocoa, cider, Halloween, Thanksgiving, etc.)

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. 

On or before September 21st, you will be assigned 3-5 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 November 3rd to write and post a fic based on at least 1 of the prompts assigned to you. Again, make sure that your story is somehow related to the fall theme!

In your post, tag @b99fandomevents as well as your assigned person’s tumblr URL and/or AO3 username. Also include #b99 fall 2019 fic exchange and #b99fandomevents in the tags.

Anyone and everyone is welcome to join this fic exchange, but please note that we’ve decided to adopt a three strike system. 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, for whatever reason, 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. 

General fic exchange guidelines and FAQ can be found on our blog.

Registration is open until September 14th!

- @startofamoment, @elsaclack, @amez-santiago, @amydancepants-peralta

#b99fandomevents #b99 fic #b99 fall 2019 fic exchange

[swiftlydnp]

Hey! So this is my fic for the Fall fic exchange @b99fandomevents written for @amazingsantiago (I was so nervous when I got you cause you are such a great writer and I wonder if you'll like this fic I really hope you do) . You gave me amazing prompts but I chose this one " Jake and Amy go Halloween costume shopping with baby" (in honour of peraltiago baby 2020) So here it is:

Every day is magical when I'm with you

Jake opened his eyes to see a pair of similar browns looking into his own and the mess of curls which matched his. He immediately had a goofy grin on his face and called out "Hey Emi! Good morning baby". Jake beamed at his 3 year old daughter. Her name was Emijila but they called her Emi for short. It was also fun because it kinda sounded like Amy.

Amy was still sleeping. After all this time, Jake's heart still skipped a beat when he looked at her. She looked so peaceful before Emi literally pounced on her mother to wake her up. Amy groaned in sleepiness but after seeing that it was her, her face turned into a smile and she excitedly began to talk to their daughter.

Jake couldn't believe this was his life. He watched them for a while with a grin on his face then checked the time on his phone and saw that it was only 7am. They both had the day off so there was no rush. They had stopped setting alarms (Amy hadn't but it was only one instead of her usual three), they didn't need to, their sweet angel served as an alarm for them every morning.

They were going costume shopping that day so they had to hurry through their daily routine with Emi behind their backs nagging them. She seemed like a mini Amy sometimes. Emi was very excited for costumes shopping. It was her first time going trick or treating.

They had breakfast (Jake made pancakes) and they were dressed and ready by 10am. "Come on Amy, or all the good 'stumes will be gone", Jake said haughtily. Amy rolled her eyes but followed him nevertheless.

They were going to a shop named 'Abracadabra' as per Jake's insistence. Amy had no idea what they were going to be in for. She originally wanted to go to a sensible store like Walmart or Target like a normal person but of course, Jake didn't do normal. He had spotted the shop while in search of a suspect and was so intrigued by the name that he practically begged Amy to go there.

Back when they were brainstorming costume ideas, Jake had come up with the idea of dressing Emi as Holly Gennaro claiming "she'll look so cute in a red blazer and she's already got the curls". Amy had stared at him in exasperation and shouted, "You're not gonna dress up our daughter in the outfit I wore for our die hard themed sexcapades!!!" The last word was whispered. Jake eyes widened and he immediately had looked ashamed of himself muttering a "I completely forgot about that part".

Unsurprisingly, Jake had had another idea. "So what if we dress her up as female John Mcclane", Jake had said excitedly. Amy immediately had made a face at that.

"Hey don't be so backwards Amy!", Jake had said dramatically.

"I don't think that kind of costume will be available in a shop.", Amy had argued.

"I'll just make it here at home then all we need is a vest and a toy gun!", Jake had said gleefully.

"Okay first of all that's gross and secondly,she doesn't know what Die Hard is yet. She'll not know what's she dressing up as", Amy had tried to explain.

"And whose fault is that?!?!??", Jake had demanded.

Amy rolled her eyes and said,"I'm not letting you show our three year old child a movie filled with gratuitous violence."

They had continued to argue well after that and had only stopped when Emi woke up.

And now here they were at the costume shop and going through several different costumes. Emi suddenly tugged at her mother's hand and lead her to a section and showed her what costume she wanted. Amy almost teared up. It's a Hogwarts uniform. When Jake catched up with them, he looked at the costume and grinned widely at their daughter's choice. "She's definitely a mini version of you, Ames.", Jake said lovingly. Amy smiled back.

They were both remembering a time when Jake used to read Harry potter to Emi back when Amy was pregnant with her. They also showed her all the Harry potter movies when she was 2. It wasn't a surprise she chose this costume. Amy was so happy her daughter shared her interest.

Still she asked, "You want that, Emi?" She nodded excitedly. They took a closer look at the costume. It contained a full set complete with a wand, a Gryffindor scarf and the Hogwarts uniform.

"It's perfect! She'll look just like Hermione because of her curls Jake.", Amy exclaimed.

" The curls which she got from me! She is an extreme cutie who is carrying forward my legacy.", Jake said smugly.

"Well she got all her smartness from me so she's carrying forward my legacy too Jake.", Amy retorted.

"Well with your smartness and my hotness l always knew we'd make a great baby together.", said Jake.

"You always knew?", Amy asked incredulously.

Jake's eyes widened. "I mean uh- not always.", Jake sputtered.

"Hey, it's okay I knew you were deeply in love with me from the start.", Amy said fondly.

"Well you can't deny it.", Jake said effectively ending their banter as they looked at each other fondly (read: literal heart eyes).

They paid for the costume. As they walked out of the shop, Jake continued their earlier conversation, "Well you also can't deny how cute our little Emi's gonna look in this costume".

"Yeah she's gonna get all the candy.", Amy paused a little before adding,"Jake you know you can't steal her candy, right."

"I can't promise anything"

"Jake..."

They continued bantering as they got into the car and were interrupted when Emi suddenly started giggling. They stopped abruptly to look at her and her infectious laughter made them laugh too.

"So...where to next?", Amy asked after the laughter had died down.

"We're totally gonna bag up all that candy,Ames."

"You really think it's gonna last until Halloween."

"Who said anything about Halloween, Ames. We're just off to buy my daily stash."

Amy rolled her eyes fondly. Typical Jake.

As Jake began driving, Amy began talking to Emi and she was listening in rapt attention as if she understood every word. Looking at them, Jake smiled to himself. His two girls. He was one lucky son of a bitch.

Author's note:

So I hope you liked it! I really don't know how it turned out so criticism is very well appreciated. Lastly, I'd like to thank @b99fandomevents for hosting this. I really enjoyed writing this. :)

PS: Emijila is pronounced 'Emi-hi-lya'. Hope you like the name

PPS: here's the ao3 link!

#b99 fandom events #b99 fall 2019 fic exchange #peraltiago #peraltiago fic #hope you like it #brooklyn nine nine fic #brooklyn 99 #brooklyn nine nine #b99

[siobhom]

Fic: The winner takes it all (A Peraltiago kid halloween heist fic)

This is a @b99fandomevents fic written for @yaboring-yabasic

Thank you for the prompt, hope you enjoy! 

“Heist! Heist! Heist!” she continues to chant as they wander around the neighbourhood, candy bags held tight as they adhere to Amy’s pre-made chart of whose doors they’re allowed to knock on.  

And Amy’s already worrying about the impending tantrum when Jake whispers, “We should put a little fake heist on for her.”

And so they end up in the living room, Jake and Amy grinning widely at Mia, as Jake holds Mr Zebra up high and Amy declares, “The winner needs to find and hold onto Mr Zebra until the clock says three, do you remember what the number three looks like Mia?”

Read it on AO3 here 

Amy knows she’s one of Miss Ryan’s favourite parents. Of course it’s a disadvantage that she doesn’t get as much face-time as the mums who get to do regular pick-ups and drop offs, but she likes to think she makes up for lack of quantity with quality. She volunteers to help out on school trips, science fairs, sports days and other activities and projects whenever she can, along with helping to organise them, a binder ready for every eventuality. She’s also very engaged in Mia’s learning and development (she also has binders for this but doesn’t show these to teachers anymore after previous incidents where they felt like Amy was telling them how to do their jobs) and tries to attend all of the little award ceremonies (or make sure Jake attends the ones she can’t).

There are a couple of marks on her record, like the one time she had to pull out of helping with a play at the last minute due to a break in a case, and Jake had also been undercover that week, she had gotten Rosa to attend. And while Amy knew Mia was more than happy with that (probably happier than actually seeing her parents there, who praised everything she did and therefore were not difficult to impress, whereas impressing her favourite tia Rosa actually meant she had done something that was worth being impressed over) she had felt Miss Ryan’s judgement.  There was also the time that she had gotten over-excited about a project and sent too many emails at once. But Amy has used her Most-likely-to-befriend-a-school-administrator spirit to maintain a good rapport with Miss Ryan and has regular discussions with her about Mia’s progress.

She has no reason to suspect this discussion will be any different to the usual ones. Okay, so it’s in person, which is a little out of the ordinary, especially at this point in the year where there aren’t any parent-teacher conferences and there’s nothing coming up that needs planning. But Amy thinks it’s probably just about something good Mia has done. She’s not worried.

Well, she’s not worried until Miss Ryan asks, in a gentle voice,

“Are you and Jake having problems of some kind?”

Amy tenses and Jake sits up straighter in his chair.

“No. Not at all, why, what’s going on?”

“Mia has expressed upset that you are making her choose between the two of you…”

“That’s… I don’t understand… We’re not fighting and even if we were… we would never!”

“…She said something about a Halloween Heist.”

“Oh.”

Amy’s immensely shocked and horrified (both that they’ve clearly caused Mia a lot of distress with their questionable actions and that she’s definitely not going to be Miss Ryan’s favourite parent anymore).

“I am so sorry about this, of course we won’t involve Mia in the heist any further and we’ll have a discussion with her about this whole thing.”

Jake says, “Actually we won’t take part in the heist at all this year and that way we won’t even be tempted.”

His grin is too bright and Amy already knows where his head is (that he’s a terrible father just like his father was) but that’s a ledge she’ll have to talk him off later. Now, her focus is on Miss Ryan, and as much as she hates the idea of forgoing the heist altogether, Mia’s teacher is frowning a little less and so Amy reluctantly agrees.  

“Miss Ryan, we really are very sorry about this, I understand that some of our choices here have been questionable, and of course we take full responsibility and will do our best to fix the damage, but I hope you will give me a chance to explain the whole story. I really think that with full context you will understand a lot better,” Amy’s tone is slightly pleading and she gives Mia’s teacher an imploring look.

Miss Ryan has the same look on her face she gets when Amy has a New Plan that they both know is going to be very long.

“Of course, go ahead.”

And Amy sends her an apologetic look, because it is a long story, starting seven whole years ago.

----

Seven years earlier

After a long day of baby-friendly Halloween craft activities and trick-or-treating, Amy’s lounging on the couch, drinking coffee and waiting for her energy to pick back up: it’s heist time. All they have to do is wait for the baby-sitter. And then her cell starts ringing. She answers to the sound of coughing and spluttering, followed by the baby-sitter saying in a weak tinny voice,

“Ms Santiago, I’m very sorry, I’m sick.”

“So sorry to hear that sweetheart, I hope you feel better soon,” Amy says, hoping she’s masking her disappointment appropriately. She walks into the bedroom, where Jake is pretending he’s not doing something related to his heist-plan, “Baby-sitter’s sick.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah. So do you want to flip for who stays and who goes?”

“We should both stay,” Jake says.

Amy smiles. “That’s sweet, but there’s no reason for us to both miss out.”

Jake sends her a beaming smile in return.

A moment later, an idea strikes, and they both simultaneously say,

“Wait, did you plan this!?”

And

“You did this didn’t you!?”

“Me?” Jake retorts incredulous, “You’re the one who got a ‘phone call’ from the babysitter.”

“Yeah, a call clearly arranged by you! How much did you pay her to cancel?”

“Nothing. Because clearly the babysitter didn’t even call you.”

“Let’s call her back and find out.”

“Oh please, do you think I don’t know that you would have planned for that.”  

“I suppose we’re at an impasse.”

“Yes, we are at an impasse,” Jake says with an eyebrow raise that says, look I used that big word correctly, we both know what that means, Amy just rolls her eyes in response, “I guess we’ll have to flip for it after all.”

They both inspect the coin thoroughly. Amy flips it and Jake calls, “Heads.”

“It’s heads,” Amy says, disappointment purposefully bleeding into her tone, if this is part of Jake’s plan she’s not letting him get away with it guilt-free.

“Yes! ...Wait; this is part of your plan too, isn’t it?” Jake accuses, “You want us all to think you’re not playing, just so you can go behind our backs again! Well I’m not falling for it! You go, I’m staying right here!”

“Or maybe that’s exactly what your plan is! I’m staying here.”

“I guess we’ll just have to both stay here then!”

“Yeah, I guess we will!”

They pause, both frowning.

“We could take her with us?”

“Ooh, yes. Let’s do that.”

 They draw up a timetable of when they will take turns looking after her, it requires a lot of negotiation, mainly over the last half an hour of the heist (which they’ve ended up having to split into six minute slots, Jake has Mia for the final twelve minutes in exchange for Amy having her for the first half hour of the heist).  

“This is the final schedule,” Amy says, “there will be no deviations, except that we are each allowed one emergency handover which can be used at any time up until the final hour of the heist.”

Amy, never one to forgo an opportunity, discretely plants a bug on Mia. Mia happily toddles near Amy, not understanding what’s going on but clearly enjoying the energy of the whole game. She almost regrets having to hand her over to Jake (she’s so adorable to watch).  

As soon as Jake hands her back, Amy shuffles them to the evidence lock-up, retrieving the bug, and begins listening, she grins. Oh this is perfect! She laughs, loud and excited. And Mia joins her, clapping her hands together like only a toddler can.

“You’ve done very good work,” she tells her daughter, “well done.”

Mia claps more, squealing with laughter.

It’s then that Amy hears it; Jake planting a recording device of his own. She shakes her head, immediately rewinding and messing with the recording, she can definitely use this to spread misinformation, she smiles at Mia, telling her, “Oh, this is going to be fun.”

 Six years earlier

“Heist!” Mia says the next year, eyeing the Halloween decorations as Jake puts her in her tiger costume.

“Heist! Heist! Heist!” she continues to chant as they wander around the neighbourhood, candy bags held tight as they adhere to Amy’s pre-made chart of whose doors they’re allowed to knock on.  

And Amy’s already worrying about the impending tantrum when Jake whispers, “We should put a little fake heist on for her.”

And so they end up in the living room, Jake and Amy grinning widely at Mia, as Jake holds Mr Zebra up high and Amy declares, “The winner needs to find and hold onto Mr Zebra until the clock says three, do you remember what the number three looks like Mia?”

Mia nods vigorously and enthusiastically.

Jake and Amy don’t put much effort into pretending to look, after all Mia is too busy running around looking for her stuffed toy to notice or care.

And later, she points to the three on the clock as she proudly clutches Mr Zebra.

Her parents clap and cheer. They tell Mia they love her, and put their coats on just as the babysitter takes her own off.  

And their daughter is young enough that most kids her age wouldn’t question what’s happening here. But unfortunately, little Mia has inherited all of her parents detective instincts.

Her face falls.

“Heist?” Mia asks; her voice small.

But she doesn’t start bawling or throwing a tantrum, both things her parents could deal with. Instead she gives them a deeply disappointed look, that’s equal parts hurt someone-just-poked-his-abandonment-issues Jake (that Amy is powerless in the face of) and stressed an-authority-figure-expressed-dissatisfaction-in-her Amy (that Jake is powerless in the face of).

And so they cancel the baby-sitter and they both search her for recording devices three times before leaving.

Amy’s too focused on her plan to see how it happens, but somehow the heist ends like this:

Jake successfully gets Mia to run across the room to him carrying the heist object (a blue shoe). Amy’s enthralled- her heart filling up as she watches her daughter run with joy and determination. And as Jake swirls Mia around in celebration, both laughing a little uproariously, Amy thinks it’s almost worth losing.

 Five years earlier

Mia’s just as excited the following year and this time they don’t even bother booking a baby-sitter, it’s understood that she’ll be coming with them.

Two thirds into the heist Mia gets her hands on the prize, a gold medallion, and starts caterwauling any time anyone even tries to take it off her.

“This is cheating. We should disqualify both of them,” Rosa says, pointing at Jake and Amy.

“I have nothing to do with this, if anyone should be disqualified it should be Jake!” Amy exclaims.

“Let’s just get the thing off of her,” Jake says, waving a peanut butter cup in her face, and then Mr Zebra, and then an Ipad showing her favourite episode of Doc Mcstuffins. Mia doesn’t budge. “Mia,” her husband says in a sing-song voice, “if you give me the shiny thing I will take you to Disneyland.”

“Jake!” Amy admonishes.

“Don’t act like you didn’t start this,” Jake replies.

“It’s got to be Amy!” Charles says.

“Unless Jake’s bluffing and he’s promised to actually only take her to Disneyland if she doesn’t give it up,” Rosa says.

“Don’t be ridiculous. She’s still a baby!” Terry says, “She’s probably just more interested in the shiny thing.”

“Or maybe Terry’s behind this whole thing, he got to her, just like he got to Cheddar,” Amy says.

And so the argument goes on and on and on.

Mia hands over the medallion to Amy with a minute left on the clock.

 Four years earlier

“I’m a big girl and I’m going to decide what I do this year,” Mia states, and then quoting one of her favourite TV characters says, “I am a strong, indepeppendent, team player!”

“Of course you are sweetheart, it’s pronounced independent by the way.”

“In-de-pen-dent.”

“Very good. Well done.”

“What’s your plan mummy?” she asks.

 “Daddy, I’m secretly on your team,” Mia whispers way-too-loud, but both of them pretend Amy hasn’t heard it even though they know she has.

 “Mummy, I told daddy I’m secretly on his team but I’m actually secretly on your team!” Again, she’s well within Jake’s hearing range and the both of them smile indulgently.

  Three years earlier

Mia is solidly team Jake. They make the best team: they are going to win. She has a little binder and everything. She says with her binders and his ridiculous spontaneous (and yes, she can pronounce it correctly) ideas they will be unstoppable.

Two years earlier

Mia is solidly team Amy (because daddy is a loser who made her lose).

One year earlier

Mia is solidly team Jake until an hour before the end when- in an act of ruthless betrayal- she reveals she’s been on team Amy all along.

----

“I see,” Miss Ryan says once the tale is done, seemingly happier now, “That makes more sense. I know that to adults it may seem like it’s just teams for a game, but children, especially at Mia’s age, when greater understanding of the world around them and concepts of empathy are becoming more fully formed, can be particularly sensitive to such things. Just be aware of that in the future.”

“Of course,” Amy says as Jake nods vigorously.

 And so, on the 31st, Jake and Amy are sat snuggled on the couch, with a bad horror movie ready to play and mugs of hot chocolate warming their hands. And a bowl of candy ready for trick-or-treaters.

It’s pleasant, Amy thinks. “I’m so tempted to go to the heist right now,” she says.

“We can’t!”

“Mia’s not even here, she doesn’t ever have to know.”

“I still can’t believe she abandoned us to go trick-or-treating with Cagney and Lacey and Ava, we’re awesome at trick-or-treating!”

“I know! Our baby girl is growing up.”

“So the heist?”

“No, you’re right, we can’t. She’ll find out and then she’ll feel left out and she won’t tell anyone the next time she’s upset about something.”

“Cool, cool, cool.”

They watch the movie. Amy laughs at Jake’s commentary and temporarily forgets about the heist entirely.

Jake and Amy both get up when they hear Cagney knock on the door, ready to great them and admire their respective candy hoards.

The last thing they expect is Mia grinning, holding up a trophy and exclaiming, “Suck it, losers!”

“What…what is happening?!”

Mia grins smugly, “I won the heist!”  

Amy flitters between absolute outrage and absolute pride.

(And part of her is annoyed with herself because she really should’ve seen this coming. After all Mia has inherited all of her competitiveness and all of Jake’s competitiveness).

Before she can formulate words, Jake says, “Our baby girl really is growing up!”

“I know!” she replies, before turning to Mia, “Well played, congratulations!”

“Yeah, congrats! You earned this!” Jake adds.

“Thank you,” Mia says, doing an elaborate victory dance.

 Amy hovers in Mia’s doorway that night, “You know your dad and I love you very much and we’re both very proud of you, not just for today.”

“I know mum.”

Amy continues, “Having said that. At next year’s heist, I’m going to destroy you.”

Mia smirks. “Not if I destroy you first.”  

#b99 fall 2019 fic exchange #b99fandomevents #peraltiago #jake peralta #amy santiago #fic #my peraltiago stuff #my jake peralta stuff #my amy santiago stuff #my brooklyn 99 stuff