#i literally dont know how undercover cases work so dont be too hard on me

[letsperaltiago]

even in a crowded room, it's just me and you

Summary: Jake and Amy spend their date night staking out a nightclub in Brooklyn. It's safe to say that it doesn't go exactly as planned.

Rating: T-M ish (for now 😌)

Words: 10.3 k (welp)

Read on AO3 here

Pink, blue, green, yellow, purple. Every color imaginable cuts through the dark venue like a knife, quick strokes of light appearing only to disappear just as fast, to the beat of loud techno music that definitely doesn’t strike a chord with the two young detectives, Jake Peralta and Amy Santiago.

See, they’re not exactly here to party - there are so many other places, places that aren’t Club Enzo, they’d much rather pay a visit on a Friday night - but rather to work. They’re here to stake out the location and hopefully gather evidence that can put their perp, Axel Manson, in jail for handling and dealing a new drug called ‘Kandy’ - yes, with a ‘k’. Very creative. 

It isn’t exactly the date night they’d planned but Holt really needed their help and at least they’re spending time together - plus, there was no way Amy would ever deny their captain her help. The second the captain’s name flashed up on her phone screen, Jake knew date night was about to take a turn. 

Having just arrived at the nightclub and watching Amy shrug off her coat to give it to the cloakroom staff, thus introducing him to her undercover outfit, he doesn’t mind the sudden change of plans. Not one bit. Sure, the instant he’d met her outside the club and could see her bare legs, he knew she wasn’t exactly wearing a pantsuit or her usual jeans. Although her coat was hiding everything down to her knee and he didn’t know what to expect. It’s safe to say that he in no way, shape or form expected this. 

A dress, not too short but without a doubt short enough to make him do a double-take, clings to her body molding all the right places (which is everywhere, if you ask him) and, to top it off, it’s red. A deep, burgundy red that has him biting his lip to keep his jaw from falling to the sticky floor. Being the talented detective that she is (plus, Jake is shamefully bad at hiding his excitement) Amy notices the response, and in the darkness of the street, there’s no hiding the blood that immediately rushes to the apples of cheeks. 

“Looking much, Peralta?” Even if he’s the one to make her blush, he’s still the one who’s dropped his jaw on the cold pavement and there’s no way she’s letting him off the hook. A few months ago she would’ve swept gazes or subtle compliments under the carpet, rationalizing by telling herself that he was dozing off, not minding what he was doing, or simply being friendly. Although things have since then changed. Now Amy knows for sure that he likes her, thus doesn’t have to shrug his actions off with stupid excuses to protect her hopes and feelings, and can allow herself to act on his advances. A dynamic that’s been there since the day they met but has blossomed into honest to good flirting. Butterflies take over her belly every time she catches him looking at her, but She collects herself and her cloakroom number. 

“Was I that obvious?” He grins much like a kid getting caught with their hand in the cookie jar but is quick to recover because this is good - they are good - and he doesn’t have to worry about loving the way his girlfriend looks. Especially when she’s got her back turned and grants him a view that has him questioning his professionalism. 

“Yes.” In the meantime, she’s turned on her high heels and it all happens so fast, so smoothly and Bond-like. It offers Jake no chance of keeping up with her which means it’s safe to say he’s surprised, very pleasantly so, when she closes the gap between the two of them to help him unbutton his coat. His nice coat, she notices, compliments a sleek, navy blue button-up shirt that comes into view once enough coat buttons have been popped open by her nimble fingers. Having already dropped his jaw in the street outside and never fully recovered, there’s no way he can allow himself to do it again. Although a small hitch in his breathing does make an appearance and outs him. The sight of his girlfriend focusing on opening his coat for him as if it were part of their mission will do that to him. She’s too good, he thinks. 

Finally, she gets to the last button without her eyes straying, not once. Looking into his eyes as she pushes the coat - the first layer of more to come, later, he hopes - off of him, another hitch, one that travels through his entire body, shakes him to the core. Brown eyes and lipstick coated lips smirk at him, up through her dark lashes, because she knows he’s obsessed and she’s about to leave him hanging in that moment, all by himself. “You good?” 

“Uh- uhuh.” Jake swallows loudly, unable to speak. Five seconds later he’s proven right: she spins on her heels, away from him to hand his coat to the cloakroom staff, and creates yet another torturous distance between them. 

Jake is equally frustrated and thankful - frustrated because she should never be allowed to look at him like that and then turn away as if nothing happened; thankful because it gives him the time to reassemble himself. 

Amy stoves their cloakroom tickets away into her little clutch and then, for the first time, gets a good look at her boyfriend’s full attire. God, she loves it when he’s cleaned and dressed up nicely. He’s freshly shaved, hair is washed and as wavy as the length will allow, and has it paired with his nicest button-up shirt and black trousers. There’s no doubt, in her or anyone else in that club’s mind: Jake Peralta cleans up more than just nicely (when he wants to).

“This is giving me mad James Bond and Maxi Pads-vibes.” He’s the first to break the momentary silence between them, thumping bass in the background, and it’s as if it brings them back in the zone. Not a very sexy remark but definitely funny and, work-wise, probably pretty smart. 

“Shut up,” she chuckles immediately getting the reference, remembering Jake in his fancy three buttoned-tux and them tiptoeing around an abandoned building (and their feelings for each other) in an attempt to catch her nemesis, Minsk. As she hooks her arm with his, slightly leaning into him as they walk further into the club, lights, and loud noise, she wonders why she back then backed out of her initial plan to ask him to dance and used Gina’s grandmother as an out instead. Luckily, that’s in the past, and tonight, she has nothing to be afraid of or back out of. It’s them, him and her, against the world - or this loud club and Axel Manson, at the very least.

They walk into the dancing crowd, a sea of drunks, Amy comments making Jake laugh. After being bumped into multiple times, never being apologized to, they arrive at the bar where they’ll have to order anything but a tempting and delicious-looking cocktail. They should go out for cocktails someday, when they’re off the clock, Jake notes to himself as the woman next to him walks away with two enormous drinks while he on his part is left ordering sodas. Orange for him, a coke for Amy.  

“Thanks.” As silly as it might seem the butterflies in Amy’s belly make a reappearance at the thought of Jake knowing exactly what to get her, without even asking her, and it reminds her, bittersweetly, of the past boyfriends who’ve thought they got her what she wanted only to end up serving her what they thought she wanted. In more mays than one, Jake constantly reminds her of exactly why she’s with him.

“I would’ve gotten you Orangina but this club has the decency of not serving poison to their guests.” Jake hides a smirk by taking a sip, knowing she won’t punch or shove him, risking his nice outfit being ruined. When it comes to joking and messing around, something they’ve been from day one and won’t ever change. they’re just kids, both of them, It’s an eternal dynamic that can’t be changed. 

“Ha. Ha. Very funny.” She sips on her coke, leaving Jake hanging with a first-row experience of her lips perfectly enclosing the edge of the glass. “Anyways, what is the plan?”

Can’t she just tell him what the plan is? Sure, he could think of something but she’s already one step ahead of him, she always is, and has probably already thought of something brilliant - also she’s just that much hotter when she’s telling him what to do. 

“I’m thinking…” 

Thank God - his prayers have been heard. She picks up right where she left off. 

“... We play it cool, act like regular guests. Then we can split up, hope that either Mason himself or one of his men seek one of us out to sell us drugs. That would be proof enough for us to take him down. Although, objectively speaking, there’s a higher chance of them approaching me since I’m-”

“Super hot?” Wow, he certainly hasn’t gotten any better at holding back his first thoughts, has he? Proud of it or not, the words are out in the open and have earned him an amused look in return. Amy featuring a crinkled nose, grinning lips, and, all in all looking, cute as ever. Cute and hot at the same time ’cause his girlfriend has range. 

“I was gonna say “Since I’m a woman” but good to know where your head is at, Peralta. Very professional.” 

There’s that voice again, the sultry one he can’t act casual around; the one that gets him all hot and bothered even during times like these where it’s rather inappropriate and not very HR-friendly. Clearly, she’s joking around, messing with him on purpose, and normally he’s okay with that but not tonight - not when she’s looking like this and talking to him like that. On a night like this, there’s an extra-fine and fragile line between professional or personal. 

 The shape of a smirk on her glowing face paired with the insanely gorgeous dress and her let-down hair? She must know what she’s doing to him, right? And while it isn’t her responsibility whether or not he can control himself, the evening has just barely begun and he’s already miserable. There won’t be a lot of solving crime on his part if this moment sets the tone for the night. Damn his smart, incredible, gorgeous girlfriend. 

“If either of us makes contact with Manson, the goal is to lure him outside while the other calls for backup. If Manson is here then the rest of his gang surely must be here too, and the club will need to be ransacked. Sellers and buyers must be arrested. Our priority is to arrest Manson though. Got it?”

“Got it.” 

Drink in hand, plan agreed upon, they dance their way into the big crowd. Even sober, trying to keep up with the rhythm of the music whilst balancing liquids isn’t nearly as easy as everyone around them makes it look. A few songs later, having gotten used to the crowd’s unpredictable swaying and their cups gradually being emptied, Jake and Amy get into it. They feel themselves being a part of the sea of drunks and, even sober, it’s pretty fun. It’s been a while since they’ve gone out just the two of them, and despite the fact that this isn’t their usual spot and they’re on the clock, the sentiment remains the same.

Amy has her own, very unique, dancing style, and Jake is very much aware of this. It’s safe to say he’s grown to love her dancing, finding it adorkable (Amy told him that it’s not a real word but he doesn’t care) and another good reason to think of her as the coolest human being alive. Amy is a pro at getting caught up in people’s opinions but when she’s dancing? She forgets everything around her and simply has fun. Tonight is no exception: Amy’s limbs are kicked, punched, thrown right and left to the beat, accidentally hitting a couple of guests who, luckily, are too drunk to care. It’s her very own form of art and Jake is her biggest fan. 

“Dance with me!” She yells over the loud music, smile as wide as the Joker’s. She knows there’ll be missteps, she’ll fall out of the rhythm and eventually step on him. That hasn’t changed and probably never will. Although what has changed is the fact that now she doesn’t care. Now she’s confident in Jake’s feelings about her, knows that he finds her small missteps adorable, never annoying, and nothing she can do will push him away. 

“Is that a work tactic of yours?” He speaks into her ear once he’s finally closed the gap between them and they’re moving in somewhat synchronization to the beat of a remix of a song that was better off in its original format.

“Sure.” A giggle fights its way through the obnoxiously heavy bass and Jake is very thankful. Every sound she makes equals a spectacular symphony. One that he doesn’t want to miss. “Makes us look more legit. Will keep out cover intact.”

“Wow, look at you throwing around slang, Santiago. So legit.”

His teasing grin deserves a playful punch to fight off his smartypants comments.

“But do you think Manson will approach us if we come off as a couple?”

“Who says we’re a couple?” She grins devilishly, leaning in close so that their noses a pressed together. “We’re drunk. We don’t know what we’re doing. We might as well be strangers.” 

This time around she can’t hear it over the loud booming but his breath gets caught in his throat at the thought of Amy Santiago being his scandalous one-night stand. Of course, one night with Amy would never be enough for him but there’s something about this specific roleplay, undercover role, and the way she’s looking at him with luring dark eyes that has him fumbling into unprofessional land. Focus, Jake. He counts down from ten and Amy, oblivious to her boyfriend’s internal fight, pulls back, offering him a chance to collect himself. The bright lights illuminate her as she moves with a confidence that completely erases the dorkiness and leaves her looking like a goddess clad in red. Red as wine and all he wants to do is get drunk on her. 

The couple falls into a comfortable rhythm of moving about the floor, somewhat dancing, as they keep an eye on the constantly switching crowd. In the back of their minds, they have a picture of Axel Manson keeping them alert. Hopefully, it’s enough for them to be able to recognize the criminal if he were to show himself. 

“I wish we worked cases like this more often!” Jake yells, trying to make himself heard over the music. Even basically pressed up against Amy, hands on her waist, focused, she can’t make out what he says.

“What?” She yells back, leaning in further to listen as she tries to keep up the dancing, letting Jake’s hands lead her around the floor. 

“I wish we worked cases like this more often!” 

“Why?” 

“You look really hot in that dress.” He emphasizes his point by stroking her hip, getting a good feel of the red fabric hugging her beautiful curves. Curves that under more intimate circumstances would have him explicitly worshipping her. 

“Shut up, Peralta.” She rolls her eyes and tries to shake off his compliment, because, in reality, it does something dangerous to her. Dangerous and unsuitable under the given circumstances. 

“You do! In anything you wear but tonight is like... Wow, my mind is extra blown, babe.” 

She quickly pecks his lips in thanks, the light in her eyes enough for Jake to know that she appreciates his flirting - even when she tries to shrug it off. 

To allow herself some space, she takes a step back and thus the dancing recommences. Her very own moves are throw up, do, left and right while Jake stands back and admires the goofiness unraveling before him. Fortunately, everyone around them is too hammered to care and he’s got the view all to himself. He sticks to doing the bare minimum to look like he’s dancing. Shufflin on the spot at best. This way he can surveil the club (and Amy). 

“Incredible,” he cheers on, meaning it even though this kind of incredible isn’t for everyone. Although her moves indeed are questionable, Amy herself deserves every positive adjective in the dictionary. Wow, did he just make a grammar-based compliment? The Santiago-gene has really rubbed off on him, huh? 

Everything is easy, like fun and games, or at least it is right up until some drunk idiot, tall and handsome, Jake will admit, accidentally stumbles into Amy. She’s a trooper though: shakes it off and keeps dancing as if nothing had happened. Instead of apologizing, said man apparently sees this as an opening, a prompt for him to act on, and smoothly allows his hand to travel across the sleek fabric hugging Amy’s hips which, upon noticing the touch, abruptly stops moving. 

“Why’d’ya stop dancing, babe? You looked so good.” The strange’s voice is as sleazy as his rapprochement. Overall representing the kind of person no one deserves to be approached by. Drunk or not, Jake doesn’t care the least: this kind of behavior can’t be excused. No woman, or just person in general, should have to put up with this. Admittedly, the fact that the subject of this stranger’s idiocy is his girlfriend doesn’t make matters any better. From the feeling of his fists clenching, he can tell it makes it much worse. 

“Excuse me?” Amy challenges the stranger, takes a step back, not even caring that she bumps into someone else in the process of doing so. Her priority is to make sure that the unwelcomed hands let go of her. 

Then they both see it, both Jake and Amy, and like lightning coming from a clear sky, it takes them by surprise. It takes everything within them to not flinch or freeze in a way that’ll come off as suspicious, because this? This is without a doubt Axel Manson. 

“No need to be prissy, babe. Take it as a compliment.” 

Amy’s got her arms crossed in front of her chest and it’s clear as day, at least to Jake, that she’s in a standby position - a position where she isn’t fully sure of what her next move should be. On one hand, the perp’s moves are extremely inappropriate, especially with Jake around (even though he knows it’s a part of the job); on the other hand, she can’t act out and risk scaring Manson away. Now that he’s fallen right into their lap they need to figure out how to go about this in the smoothest way possible.

If they weren’t currently undercover, working a case that very much relies on being discreet and staying unnoticed, Jake would tell the prick to get lost. Instead, he has to take on a different role that he definitely hasn’t prepared for: the role of the random bystander that won’t intervene.   

Amy still has her back turned to Jake, facing their perp, and unfolds her arms to instead put one behind her back. Firstly, it makes her look less defensive and closed off; secondly, it allows her to send Jake a signal with her fingers: a thumbs up. Jake notices and even though he wants nothing more than rid his girlfriend of this creep, Amy is now his partner and not his girlfriend. Now is not the time to act on emotions, instead, he has to go along with whatever she leads him into. He trusts that she’s thought of a playbook to follow and knows what she’s doing. 

“Sorry, I was just... surprised, I guess,” she laughs off the momentary tension, at the very least tries to, praying that Manson won’t see right through this innocent, flirty act she’s about to put on for him.  

“That’s alright, baby. I can take it - especially when you’re as beautiful as you are.” 

Right amid people dancing and pushing their way through the crowd around them, Jake makes sure to stay at safe distance, hopefully staying out of the scene Amy and Manson have proceeded into. On his part, Manson has reached over to grab the hand of his newest catch and gives it a gallant kiss. Charming but not at all representative of his overall behavior, Amy thinks, meanwhile she acts as if the move truly impresses her. If it wasn’t for the fact that she had to stay in character for the sake of the bust, she would’ve told him off the second he bumped into her. Jake, feeling rather exclude but know it’s how it has to be, discreetly stays behind and watches the scene unfold. Sipping on orange, shuffling on the spot, acting as if some creep isn’t making a move on his girlfriend and colleague. An unpleasant feeling boils in his gut, but it’s not exactly jealousy - or so he tells himself because it’s his least favorite emotion and, more than anything else, he trusts Amy. There’s no reason for him to feel jealous. Amy is just doing her job and so she should. 

… Although he does feel unquestionable mistrust towards the other man and the urge to push him off of her is even stronger. Scum like him don’t deserve even a second of attention from a woman as lovely as Amy - undercover persona or not.  

“Wow, thank you. I sure don’t mind my view either.”

From a time preceding their current relationship and up till now, Jake has witnessed a bit of everything in terms of Amy’s flirting skills. Not that his own are any better but Amy’s can sometimes be… awkward and questionable. In reality, Amy Santiago is a natural but as soon as she’s consciously flirting, she gets all weird and fidgety about it. Her game is much stronger when she’s doing it unconsciously, going with the flow, like with him. As if they only know how to flirt with one another. 

Yet here she is, completely nailing this coquettish act, and even though it should bother him Jake also feels… captivated. This bold and cutthroat side of Amy that usually only appears when it’s just the two of them, within the intimacy of their bedroom, is suddenly out in the open and luring in a stranger with so much ease. Amy Santiago is without a doubt the best detective slash genius.

Mason takes a step closer, smooth to a point where it’s embarrassingly obvious that he’s done this a lot, and puts a hand on her hip. It isn’t until he can taste fresh blood that Jake realizes he’s been biting his lip. Focus, Jake, he tells himself and joins the random group of dancing people next to him, hoping this will keep his cover intact while he can keep an eye on the situation. Hopefully, he hasn’t noticed him and Amy dancing together before bumping into them. Amy knows what she’s doing, he keeps repeating to himself, completely drowning out erratic beats, people singing off-key to some pop song, and other distracting sounds. 

“What’s your name, gorgeous? And even more importantly, are you here with someone?” Manson’s dark eyes drill into hers with great, sleazy purpose. In all honesty, it throws her off a bit to be looked at like that by someone who’s not Jake, even worse a criminal. Concentration is key and Amy falls right back into the game with ease. On the outside nothing unusual is to be noted; on the inside, she fights to ignore the stranger’s strong fingers digging into the flesh of her hips as if she were his property. 

“Cassidy, and no. I’m just here to… explore my options.” Amy gives him her best flirty smirk, personally hating the reaction it earns her but, professionally, happy to see him fall right into her sensuous trap. 

“Well, Cassidy, I’m Axel and that sounds right about perfect to me. I also love to… explore.” He emphasizes his ulterior motive so obviously that it falls right under the category of an explicit plan. 

It’s funny to see someone who couldn’t be leading a more different life from her own think they have something in common, Amy thinks. It sure helps the fake smile she currently has plastered on her face, even when Manson strokes her hip and causes the soft fabric to bunch up around her thigh, revealing more of her golden skin. That’s her cue - it’s go time. No more fooling around. With the hand behind her back she signals towards the club’s exit and prays that, in that very second, Jake happens to be looking her way right. Get him outside echoes in her mind and she hopes it does in Jake’s too. 

What Amy doesn’t know is that Jake hasn’t left her out of sight for even a second. On the contrary, he’s quick to notice the signal and knows exactly what it means: things are about to start moving. His galloping pulse confirms it and he’s ready to follow them wherever they go. 

“How lucky for both of us, Axel. Should we, you know, get out of here then?” 

Amy feels like she’s in a movie, coming up with one smooth line followed by the next. Dropping line after line, spontaneous and mysterious, to a point where she almost can’t recognize herself. Although she can’t wait to bust this guy and be back with Jake, she does have to admit that it is very satisfying to see just how easy and indiscreet criminals are. It’s a fine line to walk. 

“Nothing would make me happier, doll.” Axel promptly places an arm around Amy’s waist, a bit lower than expected and the move is as smug as Axel’s grin. A grin that only grows from the satisfaction of having his arm around a beautiful woman who, he thinks, will get him laid. 

In the momentum of the turn they do, directing themselves towards the exit, Amy catches a glimpse of her boyfriend’s stare. There’s no begrudging his displeased demeanor, Amy thinks imagining if it were her in his place. There’s a lot of trust between the two, never any reason to feel jealous, but this kind of situation is different and (luckily) not circumstances any regular couple would ever encounter. There’s no room for jealousy - this is a matter of doing your job properly whilst also keeping your partner safe and unharmed. A partner which you more than just care for. Jake certainly has begun to entertain himself with the thought of love and this only enhances the pondering about his feelings for his co-detective. 

They share a look of mutual understanding, brief but it’s there, and it puts Amy at ease to know that he’s got her back in these most trying times of their operation. Manson’s hand keeps sliding further and further down her waist, obviously and shamelessly yearning for her hip and ass as if it were his right, and if it wasn’t for the fact that it was a matter of making the bust or not, Amy would’ve smacked his hand. Alas, she lets it slide, plays the role of the infatuated prey, and doesn’t flinch under the foreign palm taking a handful hold of her dress and the flesh beneath it. 

“Sarge?” Jake speaks into his phone, never letting Amy and Axel out of his sight. He can physically taste the disgust he’s feeling upon seeing his girlfriend be felt up but he’s putting his anger to good use. “Amy and I have found Manson. We’re currently luring him outside. Send back up and catch them the-”

Jake feels himself flinch at the sight of this criminal having his hands all over Amy while feeling more than just delighted by this conquest. Jake knows Manson has set himself up for great disappointment, but still, he can’t help it when the sight of Axel being a major creep has his word’s caught up in his throat. 

“I- uh, yes, sorry. Just keeping an eye out for Amy. They’ll walk out onto Fulton Street. Meet us there with backup ASAP. Not sure if he’s armed or not so be careful. He’s got Amy with him.” 

He hangs up the second he sees Axel and Amy make their way to the cloakroom. Needing to be sure of what to make her next move, without Axel noticing, Amy runs her hand up the perp’s strong arm, wardrobe number in between her index finger and middle finger. 

“Just need to stop by the lady’s room and... “ She bites her bottom lip into a natural pause. “... get ready for whatever you and I are gonna do once we leave this place.” 

She bats her long eyelashes at him. Past experiences with Jake have her trusting the simple but sultry move and its effect. It should work wonders. “Grab my coat for me, please? And perhaps I’m even lucky enough to find some candy in my pocket when I come back?” Cocked eyebrows suggest Manson read between the lines.

“What’d’ya mean, princess?” 

During the course of her career, Amy’s seen a lot of perp bluff which means Mansons already steps behind her. Even with a hand on her hip and trying to play it off as confused, the detective doesn’t fall out of character. She needs proof. 

“Oh please, Axel…” Amy grins before leaning in, lips almost grazing his ear. Lucky for her their perp can’t see how her legs are trembling from the adrenaline. “I know what you do around here. Share your candy with me and I’ll share mine with you. No one will know.” Her vixenish whisper echoes in her ears while her lips tease to touch the sensitive spot. Amy cocks an eyebrow playfully and there’s no way Axel can say no to that. 

“Of course, babe. I’ll be right here waiting. Don’t be too long though.” Axel’s warm, alcohol-drenched breath hits her face when he pulls back and it takes every fiber in Amy’s body to not pull back from where the man is leaning in close, smirking like he’s got her figured out. “I’m getting impatient.” 

“I’ll be quick.” She promises. 

Even from a safe distance away, Jake’s glowering gaze certainly doesn’t miss how Amy seals the deal their perp and how he runs starving eyes up and down her body as she walks off. While Jake would prefer that it was him she was torturing like that, he also feels confident about this operation. It’s going to work, he’s sure. Then he’s going to need a lot of making up for how little he’s gotten to enjoy her company tonight.

Purposely brushing past Jake, discreetly bumping his shoulder, Amy makes her way to the bathroom.

One… Two… Three… Four… Five… Jake spins around on his heels and follows her into the bathroom, making sure to do so unnoticed by Axel. 

“We’re in the clear,” Amy informs him when she sees Jake peep his head into the room. 

“You’re brilliant, Ames!” Jake beams, stepping up to her and instantly earns himself a proud smile in return. Amy can’t help but notice how right it feels when he places his hands on her lower arms, almost as to make sure she’s safe and really there with him. Her warms skin feels so good in his hold and it hits him how much he needs her to be okay and… his. “You okay?”

“Yes, I’m okay. And I think he’s buying it, Jake! I tried to lure him into giving me some drugs. I will let you know if he does… Did you call Terry?” 

Jake can tell she’s proud of herself and can do nothing but nod in agreement. So she should be. “Yes, backup should be here within a couple of minutes, ready to take him down when you exit the club. Also of course he’s buying it! That act you’re putting up? Impossible to resist.”

“You been thinking about that a lot, babe?” 

They’re on the clock, Jake is aware, but she sends him a teasing wink (oh, she knows), and before he can even wrap his mind around just how turned on he is, she’s moved on as if nothing had happened. Moved on to apply lipstick in the reflection of the dirty bathroom mirror as if he wasn’t even there. The red tip of her lipstick traces her full lips oh so slowly, taunting him with every inch and curve, and it has very unprofessional, untasteful per se, scenarios flash before his eyes. The muffled sound of the bass is momentarily replaced by the remembrance filthy sounds. It all crowds his mind so fast, making remaining focused almost impossible, and if they hadn’t had a major drug lord waiting for them then he’d definitely taken advantage of how Amy was currently leaning against the sink, back turned to him, in an attempt to apply the lipstick as precisely as possible.  

“Oh, Ames…” Though he really shouldn’t, he allows his hand to wander onto her hips, the ones he’d hated Axel so much for touching… Besides hating him for the obvious stuff, like being a criminal and whatnot. “You’re all I ever think about.” 

Even with her hair let down, falling in raven waves and covering some of her exposed shoulder, neck, and arms, there’s little left to the imagination. As animalistic and primitive it might sound, Jake internally thanks Amy for her pick of dress, a spaghetti strap dress that shows off her strong upper body. Handling perps might just be the best workout.  He does realize that he’s only making it worse, more agonizing, for himself to wait out their mission however he simply can’t help himself, and before he can bring himself to cease, his lips are attached to her shoulder blade… then back nape of her neck… then the other shoulder. Her skin tastes like a mixture of her vanilla body wash and the smoke-filled air of the club. 

Their eyes meet in the reflection of the mirror, both smirking knowingly; they’re both fighting the urge to throw professionalism out the window and tear each other apart - right here, right now. How wonderful it would be to simply unhinge, give in to the vicious atmosphere of the club. Take each other home like a spontaneous hookup on a night out. Alas, right now is not the time for adulterated play pretend. Right now, even with his hands feeling dangerously good on her, closing in on the zipper running along her spine, their duty and urgent matter at hand is somehow stronger. With one last kiss to the skin of her neck and a shared look in the mirror, they wordlessly promise each other: later…

 He offers her hip a squeeze and clears his throat. Smiling to show support. 

“Let’s go get him.” 

“Y-Yes. Let’s.” 

After checking herself in the mirror one last time, she spins on her heels. Their eyes meet, outside of the mirror this time, and Amy feels confident walking out - Jake is right there behind her. Like always, he’s got her back. 

“You look great!”

Having already exited the bathroom, Amy knows not to turn around, risking looking suspicious, but she can still smile to herself, and oh does she. Blush, a lot of it, as well. Luckily said blush simmers down and impossible to detect by the time she’s back with Axel. From the dance floor, Jake keeps an eye on their every move and it’s with great delight he notices Axel’s wallet falling from his pocket when the man shrugs on his coat. Having already put on her coat, Amy checks to see if her flirting worked and to her happy surprise, it did. In the depth of her pocket, her fingers come across a tiny, sealed plastic back containing a couple of tiny heart-shaped pills object: kandy. 

Amy smiles to herself and Jake is quick to notice: she’s got the drugs and all the proof they need to take Manson down. 

To the detective’s advantage, the pumping music drowns out the wallet’s fall and Amy is quick to latch onto Axel’s strong arm thus prompting him to lead her outside, into her trap. Coats hanging off of their frames, walking side by side, they make their way through the front door. Amy’s lungs hitch for the fresh air outside, nervously so, internally praying that reinforcement is waiting for them outside as to not be left alone with the shady criminal for longer than needed. One thing is being told they’ll be there: another thing is actually seeing the familiarly blue-clad reinforcement there waiting for you. 

Click clack. 

Her black heels hit the pavement, they have officially left the safety of the crowded club, and this fact, along with the absence of the blinking red and blue lights, triggers a certain nervousness in Amy. An uneasiness screaming that everything is at stake right now - the case as well as her own life - and that there’s no room for indiscretion. 

It’s a well-known fact: Amy Santiago always brings her A-game. Although this specific mission demands even more detail-oriented and throughout thought decision-making on her part. One little misstep can cause a domino effect of danger and chaos, and she’s not about to topple over the first piece. 

“Terry!” 

On his part, Jake feels just as uneasy, if not even more, about the lack of backup. There’s a limit for how close he can stick to Amy and their perp; walking too close will only raise suspicion meanwhile walking too far behind could compromise the mission and, more importantly, Amy’s safety. 

“Where are you guys? Amy and Manson have left the club. They’re making their way south on Fulton Street, and I don’t know for how long I can trail behind them before Mason grows suspicious.” 

There’s an irritated undertone to Jake’s voice he simply can’t bite back - it’s not as if he’s trying to hide it - but his girlfriend is currently charming a dangerous criminal and no one but Manson himself knows where he’s taking her. If they get into a car this entire case will turn into a chase and ticking clock situation.

At this point, if Manson as much as hails a cab, Jake will have to do something. Step in, one way or the other, to free Amy from the situation or at least stall. There’s no way Jake is allowing a criminal to drag his girlfriend along as bait for a wild-goose chase. Alonge the thought is a hard pill to swallow. He always worries when she’s working a case; the second she’s out of sight a thousand horrible scenarios flash before his eyes because he can’t imagine a world without her. Amy is very much capable, he knows, and she doesn’t rely on him for anything, nor should she, but if he can keep her safe then he sure as hell will. 

Then it happens. What he dreaded the most. Mason waves over a cab which immediately pulls over to park next to the couple. 

A hundred feet or so keep Jake, and Manson and Amy apart. Step by step he gains speed, gains in on them, with fiery eyes glued to his girlfriend in hopes of some kind of signal from her. Manson gallantly opens the door to the cab for her. Polite for a criminal, Jake thinks to himself as his fists turn white from clenching. 

Dutiful as ever, Amy she gets into the car. He catches a glimpse of her face and certainly isn’t met with what he had imagined; Amy’s shaking her head no at him, frowning and warning him with a harsh stare. Does she just expect him to keep his cool and step back from the situation? It feels very much like a punch to his gut. Can’t she see she’s in danger? 

His feet never cease, on the contrary, they pick up the pace, completely disregarding Amy’s deterring signals. The car door smacks shut capturing Amy inside the cab but even then, through the dirty cab window, she’s very clearly telling him off. Her expression only becomes clearer with every step he takes. 

Manson, still very much oblivious to the situation that’s about to be called into existence, makes his way around the cab and gets into the back with Amy. The sound of his door shutting behind him affects Jake the exact same way the sound of a gun going off would: adrenaline overrules his clear thinking and protocol for the given kind of situation is off the table. Protocol means nothing when a dangerous drug lord is about to drive away with your partner - partner slash girlfriend, that is. It doesn’t matter that she’s the NYPD’s best detective. All Jake sees is red and the following words come flying out without warning. 

“Sir!” 

He waves his arms in the air to hopefully catch Manson, or at least the cab driver’s, attention. Perfectly synchronized with Jake’s outburst, Amy’s eyes send him daggers but there’s nothing she can say or do… It’’ll blow their cover. So instead she sits back, acts as if she doesn’t know the lunatic who’s calling out for her date, and waits for the horror that is Jake Peralta’s improv skills. 

“You forgot your wallet back at the club. They’re holding onto it for you. They uh- told me to run after you and let you know.” He’s out of breath from running up to the cab and leans against it as he tries to catch it. Jake has to admit that he deserves the prize for the worst cover story in the history of cover stories. All he can do is pray that their perp will believe it - even if it’s with an inch of mistrust. 

“What?” Manson spits, halfway out the cab and sure as hell looking pissed - pissed like a man who’s getting momentarily cockblocked by a random stranger. 

“Your wallet. Someone’s found it and I was sent to tell you.” Jake stutters from his position on the sidewalk. He can feel Amy glaring at him from her spot behind the window, begging him to look at her so she can let him know exactly what she’s thinking: idiot!

“You couldn’t have brought it with ya, ya moron?”

All night they’ve seen him in nothing but a good mood so it sure does intimidate Jake, just a tiny bit, to experience Manson growling and scowling like an agitated beast. 

“I- uh, sorry. I’m just… super hammered. My brain is probably broken from all the vodkas and… orange drank and whatnot.” 

Jake doesn’t even have to look at Amy to know that she’s rolling her eyes at him. 

“Whatever.” Manson peeks into the cab. “I’ll be right back, darling.” 

Amy smiles without saying a word, but the second Manson is out of sight she’s practically kicking down the cab door. 

“What the hell, Jake?! What are you doing?” 

During their few months of being together, he’s never seen her this mad. Not at him, not at anyone. Even the mattress incident has nothing on the pure acrimony she’s currently displaying. The red color of her dress suddenly carries a whole new symbolism. 

“What do you mean? Ames, he was going to drive you off to God knows where!” 

Why is she so angry when he’s just trying to protect her? His expression slowly starts to match hers and he doesn’t like this color on him - not one bit. 

“Don’t Ames me! And I have my tracker and gun on me, plus backup is just around the corner!” She refuses to step down from her case and it’s as if they forget that Axel Mason will be back before long.

“You don’t know how far away backup is. Also, a tracker and gun won’t keep you safe against a man like Manson!”

It takes a clenching of his jaw to contain himself. Heavy breaths have him feel like an enraged bull, provoked by her red dress (even though technically bulls can’t see color - Amy told him so) and matching stubbornness - an attribute of hers he usually admires. Right now it’s hard to admire though. Even if he knows his girlfriend is very much capable of doing whatever she puts his mind to, he also knows he’d never forgive himself if she was to be harmed in any way, shape, or form; even worse if he’d done nothing to stop it. He’s read through Manson’s criminal record and knows what the man is capable of. 

“So what? You’re running interference because you, the great Jake Peralta, need to keep me safe and be the one to save the day?” 

She’s taken a few steps away from the cab to join Jake on the sidewalk. It’s not for the sake of keeping him company though. Oh no, her arms are very much crossed, body language very clearly cutting him off completely, and if it weren’t for the fact that they’re in the midst of quite a fight, Jake’s eyes would comment on how the crossing of her arms enhances her chest. 

“It’s not like that, Amy. It’s not about being the best or saving the day.” 

“Then what?” She barks and all at once everything around them seems to go silent. It definitely doesn’t ease the weight on the young man’s shoulder, the feeling he seems to be holding back for reasons unknown. How does he explain that he cares deeply for her, perhaps more than he’s ever cared about anyone before, without saying the three magic words? That would be too soon and most definitely the wrong time. 

Still, with Amy Santiago looking at him like she currently is, eyes begging to understand but also filled with fury, he knows that he’s in the wrong and she, as so often, is right. He had no right to interfere. She had it under control and he let his personal fears overrule his professional rationality.

“I’m-” the words get stuck in his throat and he has to clear it to continue. 

“I’m afraid of not doing enough. I know that you’re a total badass but it’s so hard for me to stand by and act like it’s all out of my hands, when my mind is telling me that I can do more and that I’d never be able to forgive myself if something were to happen to you. It’s hard to stay out of your way when I feel the way that I do about you - even if I know you’re fully capable.”

 His nervous shuffling on the spot and adverting gaze cuts right through his previous angry demeanor, a much more insecure side of Jake shining through at perhaps the most inconvenient time. Amy wants to listen and discuss this with him, she truly does, because no matter how much she pisses her off, she also really likes him too. 

Timing is damned, not on their side, and Manson is now once more walking out of the club as he lights a cigarette. Jake, back turned to the club, remains perfectly oblivious to the incoming confrontation. 

 On her part, Amy has a perfect view of her undercover admirer. “Shit.” It’s unclear and mumbled under her breath, enough for Jake to notice but without being able to see Manson, the detective remains confused. “We need to stall.” Manson makes his way towards them and an oh so familiar situation presents itself: they’ve got to think fast.

“Kiss me,” Amy commands through her teeth. 

 “What?”

 “He’s back! We need to stall till the 99 gets here so I need you to shut up and kiss me. Now!”

To an uninformed Jake, this very sudden order profoundly confuses him. The very specific kind of confusion and disorientation reminds him a lot of that time Johnny and Dora staked out the park - he can almost feel the tree pressing up against his back and Amy’s lips on his - and the similarity of the situation will soon catch up with him.

 Usually warm and kind but now burning and stressing brown irises glower at him and Jake knows: he needs to act now; trust her and whatever process her brain has mapped out. So he acts.

Like a whirlwind, he pulls her in by her dress’ soft fabric and shoves her up against the side of the cab, so hard that a thump can be heard. It’s a kiss that, in more than one way, takes her breath away. It’s warm, passionate, and quick but still deep enough to make her toes curl. In a perfect scenario, she would let Jake go on, deepen the kiss and take them where she wants to be, but an entire case is relying on her self-control. 

 “What are you doing, you perv?!”

She pushes him off of her, as dramatically as physically possible, and the anger in her eyes makes an encore.

 Jake has never heard her scream with such high pitch and power, and it’s an understatement to say that it takes him a second to recollect himself - both because of the insanely hot kiss and the sudden scream fit. 

 “Hey! What is going on!?” Manson’s cigarette is long gone, adding itself to the collection of cigarette buds in the streets of Brooklyn. Too focused on hurrying back to the cab where his sidepiece of the evening seems to be in trouble, he fails to notice the exchange glances between the two detectives. Glances that confirm that this is is - their new plan. Like an actor walking onto her stage, Amy quickly switches from Amy to Cassidy.

 “I wanted to smoke a cigarette while you were getting your wallet, but this freak forced himself onto me!” She makes sure to spew out the word freak, hoping it’ll cover up her true feelings for her partner. 

 Amy Santiago is unrecognizable, fully merged with her role as club girl Cassidy, and Jake can’t do anything but play along as they both embark on the craziness that is a very serious game of play pretend. Hopefully backup will make their way to them before Manson has the chance of reducing him to a pile of blood and bones.

 “What the fuck do you think you’re doing, you little shit?!” Their perp forces himself in-between the two, punching Jake in the shoulder, hard enough to have the smaller man trip backward. Only by a thread does Jake manage to stay on his feet. 

A threatening that has Jake backing up against, so much that he eventually hits the wall behind him. Now he’s really begging for backup to arrive. 

Yes, he does have his badge on him, hidden under his shirt, but flashing it could cause further hostility and threat to him and, of greater importance to him, Amy. Jake stares straight into the eyes of an enraged Alex Manson, scared but also mildly annoyed by the fact that this macho idiot feels such strong entitlement when it comes to Amy – a woman whom he’s known for approximately thirty minutes. 

Not that there’s ever a good time to feel entitled to decide over a woman.

 “We were just talking.” Hopelessly so, but still, Jake tries to reason with his opponent. Mason obviously caught them with their lips locked. All according to Amy this is the plan that will get them out of this disaster, safely and successfully, and, more than ever before, Jake really hopes she’s right.  

 “Talking? Do you think I’m blind!? I saw you making out against the cab, feeling her up with your filthy hands and lips!”

 At this point Manson has a strong hand on Jake’s chest, keeping him captive against the wall with what feels like a promise to not only threaten but also hurt. A million thoughts race through Jake’s mind. 

He’s not dying, not today, not when an idiot like Axel Manson thinks he can get away with miscellaneous criminal activity and treating women like garbage. Over his dead body, only metaphorically, of course, he thinks and bites the inside of his cheek.  

Over Manson’s notably broad shoulder he manages to get a hold of Amy’s eyes. For the first time since he, to Amy’s great dismay, chose to confront Mason, Amy’s death stare is directed at their perp rather than him. Discreetly, making sure to not make any sudden moves and draw attention to herself, Amy reaches down for the hem of her dress skirt. Her eyes never drop from Manson’s figure, even as she gently lifts the skirt a bit, revealing the handgun she’s been carrying around - Mr. and Mrs. Smith-stylez.

 By all means, even with his life is at stake, Jake takes a millisecond to notice just how fucking hot that is. If this is the last thing he sees before he goes then he won’t complain. If he does survive, then he’ll have to suggest that they buy her a nice garter for them to mess around with. He’s quickly snapped out of his fantasy when Manson pushes him harder into the wall.

“Did you hear what I said? Do you think I’m blind!?”

 Jake’s floundering. 

“It was- uh- an accident.”

 The weight on Jake’s chest instantly increases even further, threatening to crush his bones (or so it feels). Then he sees Manson’s free arms being lifted from his side and prepared to throw what Jake guesses is the first punch.

 “Don’t fuck with me, shithead. Me and a couple of friends from the club are in search of a new punchbag and right now you look like the perfect candidate…”

 Jake knows he should be fearing for his life but all he pays attention to is the fact that their perp has practically just admitted to his gang being inside the club. Just as he’s about to flash a self-satisfied grin, the first punch collides with Jake’s chin.

Amy hears Jake groan out in pain, the gun ready to go, out of the corner of her eye, she sees a familiar blink of blue and red lights around the corner. Backup - she can safely reveal herself and help Jake. 

 “NYPD! Let go of him and put your hands in the air!”

 In one swift motion, well-practiced and with ease, Amy has her gun pulled from her thigh holster and pressed into Manson’s back. The criminal freezes on the spot just as he’s about to throw another punch and allows Jake to free himself as three cop cars pull up to the scene and surround them. Amy doesn’t budge, continuously holding Manson at gunpoint. Her arms tremble from the rush. Still, she doesn’t cease until the sarge tells her to and two of her colleagues have Manson handcuffed.

 “We’ve got him, Santiago.”

 A heavy breath, one she’s held since Manson forced Jake up against the wall, is set free from her lungs. Newfound calmness and satisfaction rush through her veins. 

After carefully securing her gun and putting it back in its holster, slowly coming down from the adrenaline-driven high, the thought of Jake and the punch he just took floods her mind. Adrenaline and anger fully clouded her mind but now that she can think somewhat clearly again, worry takes possession of her entire body. It’s as if her legs, without her brain having to order them to, instinctually take her to where Jake is being taken care of by Terry and a first aid kit.

 “Jake! Are you okay?”

 He barely has the time to turn around. Amid his turn, she throws herself at him, arms around his neck and if Terry hadn’t been right there, holding the bloody cloth that’s been drying Jake’s bloody nose, she would’ve kissed him to the moon and back,

 “Uhmpf-“

 Her hug punches the air out of him, and he should care (with being punched and crushed and whatnot) but he doesn’t, because it’s her and all he wants is for her to be okay. He recovers from the hug attack right away and naturally his arms come to wrap her up. The pounding ache in his lower face, nose, and lips, swollen and slightly bloody, somehow melts away under her touch. Technically, that doesn’t make sense but that’s what he does to her. A loud pounding reappears, this time coming from his heart rather than his head and he knows he’s alive and back with his favorite person - the most badass person he knows, too.

 “I’m okay, Ames.” A pleasant mixture of her lavender shampoo and the feeling of her soft skin (she always brags about moisturizing) lets him know he’s back in his safe house and for a second he closes his eyes, lets himself slip into a momentary trance where no one or nothing can touch him. Neither of them knows for how long they stand there, simply holding each other in silence but eventually, the sarge clears his throat, obviously feeling like the odd one out during this happy reunion.

 “Amy, you and I will head back to the 99 with Manson for your debriefing. Jake, I’ll have officer Wilson drive you to the hospital for a checkup and debrief you there.”

 The couple quickly pulls apart, brutally pulled back to earth, and realizes that there are other people, notably their boss, around.

The night is far from over. More than anything else, Amy wants to be the one to take Jake to the hospital, hold his hand while they wait for the final verdict, but she also knows better than to make professional demands based on personal needs. She opts for a simple “Of course, sarge.” Jake as well.

 To the couple’s relief, Terry sees right through them, smiles, and nods approvingly. Terry loves respecting HR-guidelines but, more than anything, Terry loves love. 

“I’ll give you five.” He gives them both a pat on the shoulder, then he walks off to help with Manson who’s currently painting the dark Brooklyn night with a quite colorful chain of curses. 

The blue and red light flash across Jake’s side profile, enhancing his bruised lip, as his eyes follow the Sarge. Amy watches him watch the scene unfold, and while she would’ve preferred no punches and bruises at all, it definitely doesn’t make undercover, dressed-up Jake look any less hot. She might even go as far as thinking it’s… extremely sexy.

 “You’re an idiot.”

 Her voice instantly catches his attention and him looking right at her only gives her a better view of the slightly split lip. So much for a solid plan, she thinks and cups his cheek in her hand as to inspect him. 

He winces a bit but never refrains. 

 “I know.” The sigh is one of defeat. 

Amy is quick to catch on a runs her thumb across his cheek in a soothing pattern. “But at least we got him,” she comforts. 

 “Yeah, but you were right. I was being reckless and impatient. I should’ve stayed back and let you handle it... Like I know you can. I’m sorry if it came off as me not trusting you or whatever. It wasn’t my intention to compromise you or the mission.”

 “I know…” Carefully to not hurt him her hand slides off his face to instead grabs his hands. “But I do appreciate you apologizing.”

 “Of course. I was wrong and you were right. The Jake and Amy story.”

 A warm, familiar chuckle is shared between the two, somehow resynchronizing them, because this really does feel like Jake and Amy – whatever story they’re currently writing.

 “But there’s one thing I’m going to need you to apologize for, detective Santiago.”

 A charming grin is enough to let Amy know he’s about to hit her with something for her to roll her beautiful brown eyes at. And he, on his part, can’t wait.

 “Oh, and that is?” 

 “I’m going to need you to apologize for looking so fucking hot tonight.”

 “Jake…” Blush instantly replace her normal skin tone. Even months into their relationship he still manages to do things to her that she can’t control. Especially looking like this, all dressed up, tussled hair and bruised face working in contrast. 

 “Like, even with Manson all up in my face, all I could think about was you in that red dress…” He runs his hand along the fabric hugging her hip. “And don’t even get me started on the thigh holster. I was so afraid that I’d die tonight and never get to peel it off of you.”

 “Jake!” She skips forward and shuts him up by planting her hand across his mouth. “The officers or the sarge could hear us!”  

“Ouch!”

 “Oh my God, your lip! I’m so sorry!”

 “It’s fine.” He winces once her hands fly off of him and free his sore lip. “I really should head to the hospital, huh?”

 “Yeah, you really should. Are you going to be okay?”

 “Totally.” Jake confirms, nodding his head yes. “See you at your place later? I’m sure the hospital will let me go home tonight.”

 “Sounds like a plan.” She nods, trailing off but then the opportunity for a clever comment presents itself and she can’t resist.  “If you can you stick to it this time?” 

A teasing glimmer in her eyes and cocky smile lets him know just how proud she is of her own comeback.

 “You got me, babe. But yes, promise I will stick to the plan this time. I’ve learned from my mistakes.”

 “Good...” Without further prompting his girlfriend leans in close, close enough for her breath to tickle her ear, and drops a bomb that’s been threatening to explode since they first walked into the club.

“... And if you can’t then I’ll have to teach you a lesson, detective Peralta.”

Oh, how the hospital better let him go home tonight. 

#idk how i feel about the final result but *throws bone* here ya go #club fic #i literally dont know how undercover cases work so dont be too hard on me #jake and amy #peraltiago #jake x amy #fanfic #fanfiction #oneshot #jake peralta #amy santiago #undercover #fluff

[darling-i-read-it]

Undercover

Dale Cooper x fem!reader

Word Count: 1.5k

Warnings: one eyed jacks so prostitution basically (the reader doesn’t ingage in any of it but she is in the same place it happens), guns, being shot, I think thats it but if theres more let me know!

Author’s Note: god I love dale cooper adn I love twin peaks. These fics rarely get a lot of notes and I literally don’t care because I just love writing them. I hope you enjoy love because I certainly did!

Requested: by anon, Okay okay here me out... Agent cooper X reader where they have to keep their cover at one eyed jack's by kissing (I have no idea how that would work but I'm sure there is some context in which that would make sense) and later they discuss it in hospital after Coop gets shot because there seemed to be some hidden emotion behind it. And then maybe some fluff and kissing I DONT KNOW I JUST LOVE COOPER!!! Thank you so much, and obviously no rush since I know you wrote a cooper one recently :)

Summary: the request

Genre: fluff

Song: cleopatra by the lumineers

I don’t own these characters. They belong to author/director/creator

(not my gif)

Dale didn’t like that you were going undercover. He didn’t mind it usually when you were together but on this case, you had to be separate from him. He knew you could handle yourself. You were a very capable agent. But he didn’t like not knowing where you were. He hoped you weren’t in danger but it would distract him.

You lifted your stocking up and looked at Dale. You moved your hair to the side.

“How do I look?” you questioned. He gave you a once over and nodded curtly.

“You look wonderful. You always look wonderful.” You rolled your eyes a bit and gave him a small twirl. You were wearing a piece of fancy lingerie, something you had picked out yourself.

“Do I look appealing to the male gaze?” you asked him. He swallowed hard, keeping his lips in a thin line but he couldn’t hide the blush on his cheeks.

“I would say so.”

“Perfect.” “Are you sure you want to do this?” he asked. You shrugged, picking up one of Dale’s trench coats and placing it over your shoulders.

“Yeah. It’ll help us get more information on Laura and that’s what we need. Why are you worried?” He tried not to show it but he really was.

“I don’t like you going for days at a time. It isn’t a controlled environment, you could get hurt.” You shook your head, putting on some bright lipstick. You popped your lips.

“Dale, I promise that I’ll make it out of this. You don’t have to worry about me.” You put your hand on his shoulder. “You do your job and I’ll do mine. I trust you’ll be there to get me when you’re meant to.”

A part of him hoped that you wouldn’t be accepted to work at One Eyed Jacks. It wouldn’t make the investigation any easier but there were plenty of ways to get the information you both needed. But he had to let you go. It was your job, even if you were bending the rules a bit.

“Just be safe. Call me if you need me, I’ll come running.”

“And blow my cover and the investigation? No sir.” You grabbed his hand and squeezed it once. Dale smiled at you. “Drink an extra cup of coffee for me. I’ll see you soon Coop.”

====

Dale had coffee alone that next morning and he worried about you the entire time. He was still nursing an away cup as he and Harry pulled up to One Eyed Jacks. He had an extra cup at his side that was still full for when he got you back. You must be going through withdrawals.

He got out of the car, gun holstered but hidden. Harry stood beside him and Hawk on the other side. All three of them were wearing some sort of hidden disguise, although they didn’t look too undercover. Lack of time.

“You go ahead Cooper,” Harry said. “Get your girl.” Dale nodded and walked inside. It was an odd establishment and he wasn’t quite sure how to approach anything. He talked to a few people briefly and snuck around, drawing as little attention to himself as possible.

He kept his eyes trained for you.

There were women walking around everywhere that were wearing similar clothing to the ones you had left in the day before. It didn’t exactly narrow the field.

He opened a couple of doors and closed them just as quickly as he had opened them.

Finally he opened a door where you were sitting on a bed, wearing a mask. He noticed you by your legs. He closed the door quickly behind him.

“Y/N!” he exclaimed. Your eyes went wide and you took the mask off quickly. You sat up and ran over to him.

“Coop! Boy am I glad to see you. She was going to send a man in, I wasn’t sure what I was going to do.” He nodded.

“I was hoping to get here in time. I-”

Suddenly the door behind him opened. Before he could finish your lips were smashed against his. You peaked a look as the person who had opened the door slowly closed it as you backed Dale into the bed. When the door clicked shut you pulled away. He rubbed his lips.

“What was that for?”

“Sometimes they check to make sure the girls aren’t making a fuss. At least that’s what I’ve heard. I just didn’t want them asking any questions.” His face fell a bit. He thought maybe you were just that excited to see him.

“Let's get out of here.” You nodded curtly and he grabbed your hand, taking you out the door. He gave you his coat and the two of you slipped out very smoothly. He handed you the coffee he had been saving.

“You’re a lifesaver Coop.” Harry and Hawk pretended they weren’t ogling your outfit as they sat in the front seat of the car, driving you all away. Hawk noted the lipstick on Dale’s lips but decided not to say anything about it.

“It’s my job.”

====

It wasn’t more than a couple of days later when Dale was shot. The two of you were sharing a room and you had been the one to rush and find him. You should have been there but had to finish some things in the lobby and he went up before you.

You sat beside Dale, holding his hand. They promised you that he was going to be just fine but it didn’t stop you from worrying. You hadn’t moved from your spot since you were allowed to see him.

He opened his eyes slowly. You had your head resting on his arm, eyes closed. He looked down at you pleasantly and tried not to wake you but even his subtle movements made you stir.

“Dale? Dale!” You sat up all the way and tried to call for some help. He shook his head.

“I’m okay.”

“You were shot,” you explained. He smiled a bit but groaned from the soreness in his stomach. You called for help anyway. “I was so worried.”

“Now you know how I felt when you were at One Eyed Jacks,” he said. You rolled your eyes a bit but it didn’t hide how happy you were to see him awake and speaking. You squeezed his hand.

“You did get a good kiss out of it didn’t you?” His face fell a bit. “What?”

“Nothing.”

“Come on Coop. I’m sorry I did it, I was just trying to get us out of-”

“No no that’s not it.” He took a deep breath. “You didn’t feel anything when you did it? It was just for the job?” Your eyes went wide and you had to look away from him sheepishly.

“I mean I suppose I didn’t hate it. You’re a very good kisser Dale.”

“You never call me Dale.”

“I’m sorry. Coop.” He laughed but stopped when it started to hurt. He was pleased to see the emotions weren’t one sided.

“I feel an amazing sense in my stomach when I see you,” he said brightly.

“Yeah?”

“Yes. I quite like it.” You smiled brightly. Harry came in, followed by the nurse. You squeezed his hand again.

“I feel it too.” His joy overrode the pain he felt and he wanted to sit up to kiss you again but just like that the nurse and Harry were talking. But you sat there beside him, holding his hand as they spoke, not leaving his side.

#dale cooper x reader #dale cooper imagines #twin peaks imagines

[shadow-assassin-blix]

Be Still, My Heart

PART 2

Marcus Pike x Tatted/Pierced!Reader

A/n: Pasts relationships are revealed. Possible hints at the future. Did I make up the story about his ex wife and gave it a little extra angst? Yeah. But is all good. Steel will heal him. 

Everything tag: @mikeisthricedeceased   

Pedro tag: @m-1234 @fioccodineveautunnale @artsymaddie​

The next morning Steel was pacing in and out of her closet, trying to figure out what to wear for her lunch date. Nothing fit right, this dress made her look fat, that one made her look like a square. That out fit had too many holes or had a strange stain? She couldn’t figure out from what??

She had thrown out half her closet onto her bed and was growing frustrated as time passed. She had showered that morning and was walking around in a robe with her hair air drying. She fiddled lightly with her lip piercing as she stared at her dwindling closet and the pile of clothes on the bed.

She had an hour left before Marcus would arrive and she had no idea what to wear. Should she wear something cute? Or should it be something comfy since they would be also be working on packing up her house? Why was this so difficult? She sighed loudly, running her hand over her face, exasperated.

She began giving herself a pep talk, “Marcus doesn’t care what you look like. You could literally wear a burlap sack and he’d think you were hot. Just grab some jeans and a cute top and go.”

She did just that after a moment of more debating, finalizing the outfit. She threw on some flats, just as she heard the doorbell ring. She moved downstairs, to the door, opening it with a smile.

Who she saw there was not who she was expecting.

“Valentina. What… what are you doing here?” She asked nervously.

“Heard you were moving. That true?” Valentina asked casually, leaning against the door-jam.

Valentina was a teenaged girl, with long dark curly hair, bright hazel eyes, and tanned skin. She looked every bit of her Latina background.

“Yes. I’m being transferred to DC. What… why are you here honey?” She questioned, her eyes darting around as she looked for any sign of oncoming trouble.

“My brother misses you. He won’t say it, but he does,” Valentina mentioned with a shrug.

Steel didn’t know what to say that. Her brother was named Felix, and he was the reason why she wound up having to leave the gang unit.

She had developed feelings for him while undercover, and when he found out she was a federal agent, he had nearly killed her and her partner.

“Sweetie… does he know you are here?” Steel inquired with a small sigh.

“No. He doesn’t. I just… I missed you too,” Valentina confessed as she fiddled with her fingers.

Steel felt her heart break a little at that.

“Honey… I miss you as well, but it’s… I…” Steel struggled to speak.

As she struggled to find the words to say to her, Marcus had pulled up, and was making his way to the door. He slowed a bit as he reached the two of them.

“Hey, who is this?” He wondered as he stopped near them.

“No one important apparently,” Valentina huffed as she turned and walked away.

Steel tried to stop her, but Valentina had picked up her pace, and disappeared down the street.

“I interrupted something important, I feel,” Marcus said uncertainly.

“It’s… a long story. Um. I can… explain over lunch,” Steel replied somewhat deflated.

She grabbed what she needed for their lunch date, her purse and phone, and locked up before leaving.

They went to a small café nearby that served sandwiches and wraps; once they had their food, they sat outside eating peacefully.

“Did… did anyone tell you why I was transferred out of the gang unit?” Steel began after a few bites into her wrap.

“No. I heard rumors, but I wasn’t going to pay them much mind. I figured you would explain it fully one day,” Marcus noted with a thoughtful look.

“I was undercover… and I fell in love with the worst possible person. The leader of this up-and-coming gang. Felix. He… could be extremely charming. I fell for him hard. I spent 3 years undercover, and when it was revealed that I was federal agent… he lost it,” She continued, staring at her wrap, no longer hungry.

“What do you mean he lost it? What did he do? Did he hurt you?” Marcus asked, concern growing with each question.

“He… badly hurt my partner and shot me. Left me for dead. I’m not going to go into details, but the damage he did to my partner was so great that… they wound up leaving the agency. I was given the choice to either transfer or take early retirement, at half benefits. We… had disgraced the agency essentially. So… here I am,” She finished with a weak smile.

“I’m sorry you had to go through that. So, the girl who came to see you, she’s…?” He gently prompted.

“His kid sister. Valentina. I adored her. She’s a good kid. Straight A student who wants to be a doctor of some sort when she grows up. I dont know why she came to me today, she heard I was moving, I guess. I was nervous cause Felix usually doesn’t let her go too far without him. Figured he had come to finish the job,” Steel shrugged, taking a somewhat shaky sip of her drink.

Marcus nodded, “She probably cares for you. If you were in her life for 3 years, she’s probably attached to you. Don’t blame her. You are pretty wonderful.”

Steel smiled, looking away at the compliment. They finished their meal, silently. Steel had lost a great deal of her appetite and had only had a couple more bites, before giving up entirely.

They got into Marcus’ car; however, Marcus didn’t start it. He looked at her for a moment.

“Where would she be at this time?” Marcus asked her.

“Huh? Where would who be?” She was confused.

“Valentina. Where would she be at, at this time of day?” Marcus clarified.

“Probably home. Why?” She was still confused.

“Listen. In less than a month, you will be in DC. Do you want to leave here, knowing that she’s still upset about what happened or do you want to give her some sort of closure?” He insisted as he looked at her softly.

Steel was silent for a moment. She quietly told him the address, knowing on some level he had a point.

30 minutes later, they were parked outside a large apartment complex, and she could see many gang members walking around. Toward the center, she spotted Valentina…with Felix. She hated that as she looked at him, her heart still raced.

“Do me a favor… stay in the car please. I can’t lose another partner. Or someone else I care a great deal for. So, no matter what happens… stay here,” She quietly pleaded with him.

She stepped out, taking a deep breath. She strode forward toward Valentina, wincing slightly as she noticed that the conversations all around her dying as people recognized her.

“Valentina,” She called out, once she was close.

Valentina whipped her head toward her, staring at her surprised, before she rushed over to hug her.

“Why are you here? Did you come here to see me? Or Felix?” Valentina rattled off questions left and right.

However, her questions went in one ear and out the other as she made eye contact with Felix, who stared at her with a confusing look. Part of him looked angry, and another part…looked oddly… relieved to see her?

“I’m just here to talk to Valentina for a moment. Is that okay?” She requested as her body tensed when he started to move toward her.

He simply nodded his head. She pulled Valentina someplace quiet, away from the others to talk. She tried to explain everything that had happened between her and her brother. About who she was, her job and such. Valentina listened to her, and when she was done, Valentina said she understood.

“I get it… I also know… you wouldn’t have arrested my brother. You love him. Or you did. But you also love me and know that he’s the only family I have and arresting him would lead to me being in the foster system. And we both know you wouldn’t allow that, so you’d probably adopt me… well. Damn. Now that I think about it that’d be cool…” Valentina rambled.

“Language. And you are probably right… I wouldn’t have arrested him… which is somewhat problematic as a federal agent. I just… needed to let you know… that just because we aren’t together anymore…doesn’t mean I stopped caring about you,” She assured in a low voice.

“In fact…” She trailed off as she grabbed Valetina’s phone.

She tapped in her new phone number, saving it as a new contact.

“If you are ever in trouble, call me, text me, send a pigeon with a scroll. I don’t care. The second you are in trouble and Felix can’t get you out of it, you get ahold of me. No matter how far I am or what time it is, I will come help you, okay?” Steel assured her as she handed the phone back to her.

Valentina nodded rapidly, throwing her arms around her neck, in a tight hug. Steel returned the embrace just as tightly.

“Okay. I gotta go. I have to continue packing up stuff and I’m making everyone a little too nervous,” Steel tells her as they pulled away.

Steel escorted her back to Felix, not saying anything to him as she walked back to Marcus’ car.

When she was safely inside his car, and they were driving away, she took a shaky breath.

“Feel better?” Marcus asked curiously.

“Yeah. Gave her my number in case anything ever happened. One day Felix will wind up in jail or worse dead, and she’s going to be alone. The foster system is a rough way of life, especially for teenagers. I… I don’t want her to feel abandoned,” Steel explained, trying to calm her nerves.

Marcus reached over and held one of her hands, his thumb brushing over the back of her hand, soothingly.

“I’m sure she appreciates it. In some ways, Felix probably does too, knowing you’d look out for her. For now… there’s not much you can do,” Marcus said pressing a kiss to her hand, trying to help her calm down.

She had been so nervous and even as she had spoke to Valentina, she worried someone would try to do something to her. Now that she was out of the life-threatening situation, her body was catching up with her mind. Her hands were shaking, and her heart felt like it was trying to escape her chest. It took a few minutes before she was finally able to breathe easy.  

Marcus took her home, and as promised, helped her pack up more of her house. He laughed when he saw the state of her bedroom though.

“Did a tornado attack your closet, honey?” He joked gently bumping his hip to hers.

“I… I wanted to look nice for you… but I couldn’t…figure out what to wear… Not going to lie… you make me nervous… Keep hoping I won’t mess up and scare you off,” She stated bashfully.

Marcus stared at her in awe for a moment, “I make you nervous? Hell… here I was… afraid I’d scare you off.”

“Guess it’s a good thing that we agreed to take this slow then eh?” Steel weakly joked.

Marcus pulled her close, arms resting around her waist. She placed her hands on his biceps, as he held her to him.

“Look. We both… have had rough time in the relationship department. I’m sure… you heard about me and Lisbon. You may have also heard that I am divorced,” Marcus started, his hands rubbing soft circles into her back.

“Yeah. I have. Still trying to figure out the whys because you are… amazing, and sweet. I don’t understand how 2 different women left you,” Steel ranted slightly.

“Lisbon and me…. It was doomed from the beginning I feel. She was just… in denial about her feelings for Jane.  My ex-wife… when we first started off, I worked at an art museum, I had been an art major in college, and life was… dull essentially. I was recruited by a federal agent that frequented the museum and my wife… was okay with it… at first. She slowly drifted away. She had actually begun to see someone else. I was upset, but I thought… it was just because she was lonely. That if I tried to stay home more maybe that would fix things. It didn’t. So, divorce,” Marcus explained wincing at the faces Steel made.

“She…. Cheated on you. She… what? I… You know… I hope I never meet her, cause I will punch her. Repeatedly. With a chair. It would be one thing… if she left because she couldn’t handle this life. I get it, it’s not an easy life. But she cheated on you,” Steel couldn’t fathom it.

“I’ve long since gotten over it, but I felt since you had revealed something rather personal, you deserved to know something about me. Now that the awkwardness is out of the way… let’s see if we can put your closet back together,” Marcus changed the subject, trying to move away.

“Oh no. C’mere,” She stopped, grabbing him by the front of his shirt.

She pulled him down toward her kissing him. She felt him chuckle a moment before he returned the kiss. The kiss was slow and sweet, slowly building in passion. Her arms wound themselves around his neck, keeping him close.

When they finally pulled apart, their breathes were heavy.

“I don’t know what you are used to, but I can tell you one thing. I would never cheat on you or make you feel second best. If we have a problem, we will talk it out like normal adults, with some pouting and a dash of brooding,” Steel said with a laugh.

“Agreed. I would never hurt you; I hope you know that. Physically or otherwise,” He assured her, looking her in the eyes.

She nodded with a smile, “Now… as much as I would love to just keep kissing you… I really need my clothes off my bed.”

Marcus laughed and began to help her re-hang her clothes. Once her closet was sorted, and she had usable bed again, they made their way back downstairs. They had gotten most of the lower half packed up, the only thing that was left to do was the kitchen. There was a moving company that worked closely with the agency, and Marcus had kindly made sure they added her to the list of people needing to move at the end of the month.

Marcus left before 5, needing to take care of somethings at his place; he left her with a kiss on the cheek, telling her he’d see her tomorrow.

When he left, she checked her phone to see that she had some missed messages. As she looked at them, she realized they were from Valentina.

‘Hi! It’s Valentina’

‘I’m bored.’

‘Felix keeps asking about you. I told him what we talked about. I hope that’s okay?’

She texted her back saying that it was okay.

‘Cool. He might… text you… he keeps looking at my phone.’

Steel quietly sighed, ‘if he does, it’s fine. My concern is you. Not him.’

‘I know. He’d never say it, but he looked relieved when I told him you’d look out for me.’

‘I care about you, even if your brother is an ass. Now, it’s late and a school night. Go finish your homework’ Steel texted her knowing her well.

‘How do you know I have homework?’

‘Because I know you and procrastinating ways. Go do it, eat, and then go to bed.’ Steel replied with a shake of her head.

‘Fiiiinnnneee. Love u.’

‘Love u 2’ she ended the conversation with a sad smile.

She spent the rest of the evening moving boxes around and situating. Making sure heavy boxes were on the ground, and lighter ones stacked on top. She was trying to make it as easy possible, and make sure she didn’t have a 100 tripping hazards.

When it was all said and done, it was close to 9pm. She ate something light before bed, promising herself to get up early and eat a good breakfast to make up for today.

She went to bed, the day’s events hitting her hard. She had been laying down for barely 5 minutes before she was out. Unbeknownst to her… come morning things were going to go downhill quickly.

#marcus pike x reader #marcus pike

[all-hail-the-witcher]

questionable government spies: chapter 11

ANY AND ALL PREVIOUS PARTS UNDER #SPY BOYS OR ON THE MASTERLIST

_________

here we goooOOOOOO

okay so alot goes down in this please try not to get too mad

its all for a reason I promise

twitch knows said reason and her general reaction was “fuck”

also I tried very very hard to make it accurate I spent literally I think like 3 months googling stuff for this

extra thanks to twitch for the evil planning

also fizz helped, hi fizz, she like made everything worse so if you have a problem go complain to her

I mean you can complain to me too but like her also

anyway lets do this

also  im not really sure how to tag these warnings so if you've got any questions before you read please shoot me a message/ask whatever you want

_______

ship: eventual sprace, platonic ralbert, spromeo, fittons, jack tries to flirt with Kath and it fails

warnings: post insane traumatic injury (??) I dont wanna give it away so if you have a question please message me !!, mention of an explosion, pain, both emotional and physical, physical disability, mentions of a previous bad relationship 

editing: I think so theres been alot of different versions but im fairly certain it all lines up

words: significant amount

_______

Albert was about ready to yeet himself of a bridge, as Race would say. At least, he thought that that was what Race would say. Maybe he was using yeet in the wrong context…. Anyway, Albert was just done with listening to Jack trying to flirt with Katherine.

This was the first day that his and Jack’s schedule had overlapped with Katherine’s. Of course it had to be today, the day after the mission. As if Albert didn’t have enough of a headache from the night before.

Maybe it would be more tolerable if Race were working with them, Albert thought as he moved himself all the way down to the opposite side of the counter, away from Jack. But, Race wasn’t allowed to work with them because he might flood the kitchen again.

“If you were a fruit, you’d be a fineapple.”

Albert let out a loud groan and nearly smacked his head into the counter, beside him Romeo let out a laugh.

“What’s the matter, Al?” He asked teasingly. “Ya don’t like it when people flirt? Ya live with Race for crying out loud!”

Albert sighed, picking his head up off the counter. “No, I just don’t like it when Jack flirts. He’s not subtle, and he uses the most obnoxious pick up lines. At least Race is a little more chill with it.” He thought back to the terrible snow puns from the night before. “Well, most of the time.”

“Well, he did learn from the best,” Romeo bragged and Albert gave him a sideways look. “What? I am a master at flirting! See, I’ll prove it to you. I bet I can make the next person who walks through that door blush.”

Albert rolled his eyes. “Be my guest.”

The next person to walk through the door happened to be Buttons. Albert choked out a laugh. Romeo made a face but still delivered his pickup line.

“Hey Buttons!” He called. “Is your name google? Cause you’re everything I’ve been searching for.”

Buttons made a disinterested face and Albert dissolved into a fit of laughter.

“Ro, didn’t we say no more flirting with the customers?” Buttons asked as he moved around some of the chairs at a table close to the counter.

“But you’re not a customer, you’re an employee,” Romeo pointed out as he began to help a customer.

“All the more reason not to flirt with me,” Buttons stressed. “Besides, don't you have a boyfriend?”

“Specs thinks it’s funny when I flirt with other people,” Romeo pouted.

“I find that hard to believe.” Buttons finished moving around the chairs and walked back towards the door.

“What’s he doing?” Albert asked Romeo as he prepared a drink for a customer.

Romeo glanced up. “Oh, he’s bringing Finch in. He must have been discharged yesterday after his surgery.”

“His what?” Albert was confused. Jacobs had mentioned that Finch was recovering from some sort of attack by the gang, but that had been 6 months ago. Surely he was doing better now…

“Oh, did no one tell you about Finch?” Romeo asked, pausing to call out an order.

“No…?” Albert said. “Well, Jacobs mentioned that he had gotten injured on the YMONY case and was recovering but that’s it.”

“Recovering isn’t the word I’d use,” Romeo said. “He’s had a rough time.”

“What do you mean?” Albert asked uncertainly.

“You’ll see,” Romeo waved him off as the door opened again, revealing Buttons pushing Finch in a wheelchair.

“Hey Finch!” Romeo greeted as Buttons parked his chair at a table next to the counter. “How’ve ya been?”

“Pretty good,” Finch responded.

Buttons rolled his eyes. “Don’t listen to him. He’s been in constant pain for the last week.” He leaned down to kiss Finch gently on the lips. “I’ll be in the kitchen. Have one of the guys come back and grab me if you need anything.”

Finch nodded and waved to Buttons as he walked toward the kitchen. Then he looked up at the counter and noticed Albert for the first time.

“Albert Dasilva! I haven’t seen you in years!” He exclaimed, taking in his friend. “I almost didn’t recognize you.”

“Yeah it’s been awhile,” Albert agreed, leaning across the counter and surveying Finch's appearance. He was wearing an old blue flannel shirt and sweatpants. The right sleeve of his shirt was rolled up to his bicep, revealing the fact that he was missing most of his right arm. Fastened securely on top of his shirt, around his lower abdomen, was a white brace that appeared to extend all the way down his left leg under his sweatpants. There was heavy bandaging and most likely a brace encasing his right lower leg. The chair was tilted back slightly and both foot rests were raised to support his presumably injured legs.

“Are you and Race still partners?” Finch asked as Albert rung someone up at the register.

“Yeah, yeah, we’re still partners,” Albert felt himself smile at the mention of Race. “We’ve started training a kid. Jack!” Albert called across the counter to Jack, who was still trying to miserably flirt with Katherine.

Jack wandered over, looking a little disappointed that he was being called away from his crush. “What is it?”

Albert gestured to Finch. “Jack, this is Finch Cortes. Race and I were friends with him in training. He’s partners with Buttons, and they were training Katherine.” Then he turned to Finch. “Finch, this is Jack Kelly. Race and I have been training him for about a year.”

“Hi,” Jack said, clearly anxious to get back to Katherine.

“You’re so lucky that Race and Albert are training you,” Finch told him. “They’re two of the best field agents I’ve ever seen. Well,” he paused, laughing slightly, “except for that time where they almost blew up the weapons lab.”

Jack stamped his foot in frustration. “How is it that everyone knows about that except me?”

“It’s just one of those things you had to experience for yourself to truly appreciate it,” Romeo sighed, staring off into the distance comically. “I will never forget the look on Jacobs’s face when he told us why it was off limits.”

Albert and Finch began to laugh and Jack stomped back down behind the counter toward Katherine.

“Al, when’s your break?” Finch asked after the laughter had subsided. “I wanna catch up.”

Albert glanced up at the clock. “I can take it now, actually, one second.” He ducked back into the kitchen to hang up his apron and returned moments later, pulling up a chair at the table Finch was sitting next to.

“So,” Finch began. “What brings you and Race back here? I thought Race didn’t want anything to do with this city.”

Albert laughed a little. “Well, Jacobs assigned us a case, and he thinks that we’re going to fail, so Race wants to prove him wrong.”

“What case?” Finch asked. “Or are you not allowed to say?”

“No, no, I can say,” Albert said. He took a deep breath. He was still hoping against hope that Finch hadn’t gotten injured on the YMONY case, even though he knew he had. “Race and I were tasked with bringing YMONY down,” he said.

Finch’s face darkened for a brief second before he responded. “I didn’t realize that someone else was getting assigned to that,” he said.

“Apparently no one was supposed to,” Albert said. “But they got some sort of coded message and Jacobs hates us, so he figured hey why not put them on, if they go missing or die then at least I’ll be rid of them.”

Finch smiled briefly. “Buttons and I were on that case. They’re a dangerous group, as you can see.” He gestured to himself with his left hand.

“If you don’t mind me asking,” Albert began hesitantly, “what happened? Just so I know what we’re getting ourselves into.”

“No, I don’t mind at all,” Finch assured him. “Well, it all started with the Big Bang….which was of course me hitting the floor.”

From the counter, Romeo let out a loud groan and Albert suppressed a laugh. He was glad Finch’s current situation had not affected his personality.

“I was at a warehouse with Buttons and Katherine,” he continued. “We knew that it was a point of contact for the gang and I wanted to scout the area. Buttons and Katherine were around the corner in the car on comms with the cameras and schematics pulled up. I was up on one of the ledges when an explosion went off, shoving me off and down about 10 feet. Then another explosion went off. I don’t remember anything after that but apparently part of the warehouse started falling apart. They told me a steel beam fell on me.”

Albert was at a loss for words. “Oh my god,” he whispered. And I let Race go undercover in that gang. “Are you gonna be okay?”

“You want the laundry list of stuff?” Finch asked, although he didn’t seem annoyed. “Then you can decide for yourself.”

“Um, sure,” Albert said.

“Well, my arm got blown off in the explosion,” he began, gesturing to his stump, just above where his elbow should have been. “I have a prosthetic, but I don’t like wearing it because it’s not the permanent one and it’s uncomfortable.” He paused. “When I fell off the ledge I landed on my back, which caused a dislocated hip and a T9 spinal fracture.”

“You’re not- you’re not paralyzed are you?” Albert stammered.

“Hold your horses, Al,” Finch smiled. “I’m getting there.” He paused, remembering where he had left off. “The beam that landed on me broke my left femur into 5 pieces, broke my left knee cap, and shattered my right lower leg. The beam also caused severe damage to my left femoral nerve which they think might have resulted in a degree of permanent femoral nerve dysfunction. And the shattered bones in my lower right leg completely severed my peroneal nerve, causing probably permanent peroneal nerve palsy. Also, the damage to my spinal cord resulted in incomplete paraplegia.”

Albert stared at him. “English please?”

Finch laughed. “I’m paralyzed from about here,” he pointed to several inches above his belly button, “down. But, since the injury was incomplete, my brain can still send some signals. I have about 50% feeling still from my hips down. In terms of movement, my left leg and hip are more immobile than my right, at least that’s what the doctors speculated, they won’t know for sure until my legs heal. Plus, all of the damage to the nerves in my legs kinda complicates things a little. But, I do have pretty good control of my abdominal muscles, about 75% of what it was and relatively no loss of feeling there so that’s good.”

“So, you are paralyzed?” Albert asked.

“Yes,” Finch said. “Both incomplete T9 paraplegia, and bilateral peripheral neuropathy.”

“Are you going to be able to walk again?” Albert stared at his friend with concern and sympathy.

Finch shrugged. “No one's really sure yet. Depends on how well everything heals and what my range of motion ends up being. I had surgery about a week ago on my right leg,” he pointed to the bandages encasing his right lower leg. “It was meant to relieve some of the pressure and hopefully give me a little movement. I have a scan next week to see how my left knee, leg and hip are healing and if they’re good I’ve got a chance of walking again. But, they have already told me that it will be difficult. Even if everything does heal properly, because of the severe nerve damage and spinal paralysis, I’ll still need braces, probably an HKAFO and forearm crutches or a walker which could be difficult considering….” he trailed off, gesturing to his missing arm.

“What’s an HK whatever it was?” Albert asked.

Finch shifted slightly, his face contorting with pain. He pointed to the brace around his lower back. “This is an HKAFO. It’s a brace that goes around your torso and hip area and then down your thigh, knee, ankle and foot. The one I’m wearing right now only goes around my left leg. Once it’s decided whether or not walking is in the question, another leg brace will get attached around my right leg. It’s kind of like an exoskeleton.”

Albert looked at his friend, letting all of that information sink in. Finch was paralyzed. Finch might never walk again. Finch had been injured while on the same case he had Race were on. “Dude, I am so sorry,” he finally said.

Finch brushed off his apology. “Why? Wasn’t your fault and there’s nothing you can do to change it.”

“I can help bring down the people who did it,” Albert reminded him.

Finch laughed, which Albert found odd considering the situation. “I’m sure you guys will. But I’m not one for revenge. Besides,” he smirked at Albert, “this is just a side effect of being a field agent.”

“Yeah I’m pretty sure they don’t cover amputation and paralysis in the orientation,” Romeo called from the counter.

Finch rolled his eyes. “Well, yeah. But I willingly signed up for this, I knew getting severely injured or dying was a possibility.”

Yeah, Albert thought. A possibility we all would like to forget exists.

“Besides,” Finch added. “I’m not dead, so that’s a plus.”

Albert stared at him in disbelief. “You’re missing half of your right arm and you can’t walk. How is any of this good?”

“Well for starters, I still have my left arm.” He waved it around for emphasis. “And I can get around just fine in a wheelchair. Plus I have a fantastic boyfriend to take care of me. The worst thing about all of this is that I can’t use my slingshot anymore.”

“I don’t understand how you’re so positive about all of this,” Albert said.

“Facing death makes you appreciate life, Albert,” Finch said. It would have been poetic if he didn’t sound so sarcastic.

Albert shrugged. He knew Finch was right, but he couldn’t stop picturing Race in his place. He didn’t think he could go through that.

Finch opened his mouth to say something, but then closed his eyes and scrunched up his face in pain. His breathing was loud and quick.

“Finch?” Albert said immediately, jumping out of his chair. “Finch what's wrong?”

“Get Buttons,” he said through clenched teeth. “And ice.”

Albert didn’t have to be told twice. He ran into the kitchen, skidding to a stop next to Buttons who was working at the grill.

Albert clamped a hand onto Buttons’s shoulder. “Finch needs you,” he said and Buttons’s eyes widened as he began to turn. “Look like he’s in pain. He asked for ice.”

“Okay,” Buttons said, calling over to one of the other workers in the kitchen and abandoning his station. He ran to the freezer and filled a bag with crushed ice before darting through the doors, Albert following close behind.

Finch was exactly where Albert left him. If he hadn’t been, Albert would have been worried. Buttons pulled up a chair directly in front of of Finch’s chair and gently lifted his right leg into his lap. He rolled up Finch’s sweatpants to the knee, revealing a brace around his lower leg and foot and thick bandaging. Then he pressed the ice bag to his boyfriends mangled leg.

A pleased sigh escaped Finch’s lips and he opened his eyes to look at Buttons. “Thanks babe,” he said.

“Of course,” Buttons responded. “Everything else okay?”

Finch nodded.

Buttons turned to Albert. “What kind of lies has he been telling you?”

“I didn’t tell him any lies!” Finch protested. “I told him what happened.”

Buttons rolled his eyes. “Yeah, and I bet you left out the part where you died for three minutes, and the part where they almost had to amputate not one but both of your legs, and the fact that you were in the ICU for almost a month before you were stable enough to be moved, and the part where you can barely sleep through the night without screaming in pain.”

“I was unconscious for most of those things,” Finch protested. “And I’m here now, so what does all that really matter?”

Buttons looked at Albert. “Is Race ever this stubborn about injuries?”

Albert considered for a moment. “Race isn’t usually the one who gets injured. That’s my job.”

Buttons sighed. “Consider yourself lucky.”

Albert thought back to the previous night’s events and how his efforts had gone to waste. He thought about how his hands had been shaking last night when he went to purchase Race’s advil. He thought about Race leaning into him last night as he guided him gently down the hall to their apartment. “Yeah,” he whispered, mostly to himself, “real lucky.”

Finch lifted his head and looked at Albert quizzically as if he were about to say something when Medda burst out of the back room calling his name.

“Albert!” she sang. “Would you be a dear and play these lovely customers some of your music?”

Albert smiled. “Of course Miss Medda.” He stood and began walking back towards the break room to grab his guitar. When he came back, Medda was talking to Finch about his condition.

“You feeling any better, baby?”

“A little bit,” Finch said as Albert began to tune his guitar. “Still a lot of pain, but we’re getting there.”

“That’s good, honey.”

Buttons adjusted the ice bag as Al plucked the E string. Finch winced slightly and Buttons picked up his hand and began to rub gentle circles into it with his thumb.

Guitar finally tuned, Albert moved toward the wood stove in the far corner of the coffee shop to begin playing. Medda usually had him play around 10 songs at a time.

He played a variety of slow indie coffee shop-esque songs and came down to the last one. He plucked a daw strings absently as he tried to decide what to play. His mind wandered for a few seconds before he decided.

He began to strum the opening chords before he sang.

“He’s watching the taxi driver he pulls away. He’s been locked up inside his apartment a hundred days. He says ‘yeah he’s still coming, just a little bit late, got stuck at the five and dime saving the day.’ He just watching the clouds roll by and they spell his name, like Lois Lane. But still he smiles, oh the way he smiles.”

Across the shop, Finch caught his eye, looking as if he were deep in thought.

“He’s talking to angels, counting the stars, making a wish on passing cars. He’s dancing with strangers, falling apart, waiting for Superman to pick him up in his arms, in his arms.”

Crap, Albert thought. He knows.

•••

Albert arrived back at his and Race’s apartment around 2 pm since he had had the morning shift at the coffee shop.

“Race?” He called out softly, hanging up his jacket and leaning up his skateboard against the wall. Apparently Oscar gave anyone involved in a heist the next day off so they could rest, sleep, tend to their wounds, etc. Since Race wasn’t in the kitchen or the living room, Albert assumed he might be napping.

He walked quietly down the hall to Race’s room and peeked inside. Sure enough, there was Race, curled up in an oversized sweatshirt and athletic pants, dozing gently on the bed.

Albert smiled and walked into the room, sitting down next to Race and pulling the throw blanket he kept at the end of the bed on top of him.

A few minutes later, Race began to stir. “Hey Albie,” he yawned, stretching slightly. “How was work?”

“It was okay,” Albert said, remembering Finch.

Race made a face, shifting to rest his head on Albert’s leg. “Your tone of voice and facial expression says otherwise,” he mumbled sleepily.

Albert laughed. Race could read him far too well. “Buttons brought Finch in today.”

“Oh, how is he? He was hurt on our case right?” Race had closed his eyes again.

“It’s bad, Race,” Albert whispered. “He lost most of his right arm, and he’s paralyzed. All those terms he told me….” Albert trailed off, thinking about all the medical shit Finch had told him. “There’s a good chance he won’t be able to walk again, Racer. And I just kept thinking, what if something like that happened to you?”

Race cracked open his eyes, staring up at his worried best friend and gently taking his hand. “I’m fine, Albie, there’s no need to worry about me,” Race reassured. “Last night went fine, I’m just a little beat up is all. I’ll be fine in a few days.”

“Are you sure hun?” Albert let the pet name slip out accidentally and he winced. He only called Race that when he was worried about him. But after last night, he had reason to be.

Race’s expression softened and he placed his hand on Albert’s leg. “Hey, hey. I’m okay,” he whispered.

“I know, I just,” Albert sighed, “I don’t want anything to happen to you.”

Race snorted. “Says the person who has more scars than freckles.”

Albert rolled his eyes.

“I’ve danced my whole life, Albie,” Race reminded him. “I have a crazy ability to overcome minor physical injury.”

Albert sighed again, lacing his fingers though Races. After a few minutes Race spoke up. “Lay down with me?” he whined.

“Of course.” Albert stretched out next to Race, looping his arm around his chest, relishing in the physical contact that proved that Race was, in fact, okay. At least for now.

_________

im sorry but it had to be done

if you have any questions about finch please ask hes gonna be around for awhile

there was a version where he died but were Done With That

also that song Albert was singing was waiting for superman by daughtry

again sorry

but also not

ALSO AMPUTATING FINCHS ARM WAS FIZZ’S IDEA NOT MINE I TAKE NO CREDIT SHE WANTED HIM TO “not be able to shoot his slingshot anymore”

huuuuuu

feedback is always appreciated hmu to be on the tag list

tag list @fairly-awkward-trashcan @well-the-kids-do-too @racetrackcook @bouncyscreamingnewsboys @ughwaitwhat @aw-jus-let-em-try @ben-cook-can-cook @the-woild-is-my-what-now @tommy-s-s0cks @voice-foundshoe-lost @galaxy-trees13 @stopthe-presses @ridin-in-style @pinecovewoods @i-got-no-clue-what-im-doing @bencookisagod @be-more-chill-evan-hansen @hellasoulless @stellar-alpaca @saxoph-ella @smolcanadiankid @disney-princess-sized @the-newsies-justice-for-zas-blog @insane-tomato @spot-conlon-king-of-brooklyn @have-we-got-news-for-you @thatfancyclam @myidkwhatmynameisblog @legoflambwrites @that-one-newskid @not-a-scab @albertdasillva

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@mrs-higgins

@sunshine-e-cigarettes

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@papesdontsellthemselves

@king-of-new-yoirk

#spy boys #saphie scribbles #ralbert #sprace #fittons #spromeo #jack is a disaster #im sorry about finch I swear theres a reason #albert dasilva #racetrack Higgins #spot conlon #buttons davenport #finch cortes #romeo #newsies fic #damn #I hurt him good #this is why there was a fic with paralysis and another with amputation awhile ago #I was getting you ready

[survivormontenegro]

Episode 5: "I just can't believe I did 4 hours of calls for a tribal that literally didn't happen." - Ali

THIS IS UNETHICAL. WE PREPARED FOR THE MOST CRACKED TRIBAL IN HISTORY AND DIDN'T EVEN GO SAKJLDFAFF.

in other news, i think benj flipped and honestly good for him! i think its smart, mitch, michael and noah are all messes. i'm feeling SO much better about my spot in the game, like we can hopefully keep voting JJ till we go to a tribal, and I can start trying to build those cross-tribe connections YAY. 

in other news, MO IS DOING SO GOOD I THINK! like i think he doesn't like me anymore after the last time i hosted him, but i'm super super proud of him for doing his thing this season yay yay!

i just can't believe i did 4 hours of calls for a tribal that literally didn't happen, I'm truly screaming... now the test is how long it takes JJ to find out EEEEEK.

IM SORRY. Excuse me but IM SORRY. Why do people keep targeting me. LIKE HELLO IM NICE. Plus I think I'm being pretty genuine. Thank god for Benj, my social game is coming IN HARD. Mitch and Michael totally bold faced lied to me. Mitch even said that he wanted us to be strong together, BUT right after tribal he was said "I must say I'm really sorry."  OOOOOOF STrong OOOF

What's on my mind you ask? The fact that budva won the challenge when the lyrics didnt match what they were lip syncing OOP

but also Serious confessional time woop woop! For starters, I fricked up HARDCORE. First thing i said is that i would target Noah if we ever went to tribal and what do i do? Yeah, lets go for Caleb :D. Tribal Lines. REEEE! Now all of the og doormentors dont trust me which is just great (woohooo)!!!! Big rip to my g Noah. I actually thought we might have had something going if we just won immunity but things happen. We were so robbed in the music video challenge ugh (looks at hosts who arent named alyssa or nicole). Anywhoooo yeah despite me lying to half of the people here, they all like me well enough so i dont think im going anywhere anytime soon. Im a social icon so be ready for more of meeeeeeeee

Soooo..... that happened

It was kinda lucky I was in a movie for 2 hours after the deadline so I didn't have to face immediate backlash lmao but there wasn't that much, mitch was pretty chill about it what a king, if I can help it id want it to be Michael next over him, speaking of Michael he hasn't talked to me about it or much before so we shall see where that goes...

Our video was ROBBED even with the penalty

I love the other 4 and I hope they don't end up fucking me over... hehe

I bet the other budvas on the other tribe are wondering who flipped JKFJS

But ya I just hope we can win cuz if we keep losing its bound to be me eventually but I feel like doing this if I make merge def gives me more options than others cuz ill have these 4 og greens who now trust me and then my old friends from budva who I didn't betray like ali and ian who im excited to reunite with

so ya we will see how it works out !

I told Alex lol

It has been a HOT minute.

First of I can’t believe punctuality defeated Alex. I am shook. I deadass thought we were gonna lose. Like on call with Tom he jokingly mentioned that what if we actually won immunity amidst all the scheming, plotting and lying that has happened this round. I am just blown away. And now Noah is gone and presumably someone from OG budva flopped? I’m thinking it’s Mitch tho hmmm. Kinda hoping Benj is safe!!

On another note tho, like here’s some interesting tea!!  *insert sc of convo with Tom I sent hehehehe* (Johnny note: ^ you can ask ian about this idk what hes talkin about)

Like Omg JJ would have been 100% going if we went to tribal?? There was going to be no revote because Jules, Tom and presumably Evan flipped at the last minute. I am screaming!! Ali really got through to Jules making it look that JJ is a hot crazy mess. Like I am just screaming tbh. I love OG Budva Baes, I really feel thankful to have been swapped with like not shady people from my og tribe hehehe

So rn if we do end up going to tribal council, I do hope the plan is still JJ and either Tom or Jules still flips on him. Hopefully those three are keeping quiet about their flip so we can get JJ out of this game.

On a different note, like I know he’s a threat and all but I’m really liking Tom. It’s really just the Straight Connection™ ahsjdjd Like idk I just want to align with Aussie’s and all hahaha. Jason and I are planning on forming like a side alliance with Tom and possibly Evan lol. I did promise Tom I was gonna have his back if he flipped and tho the flip didn’t happen because we won immunity, I still plan on doing that but I better keep my eye on Tom tho because I don’t want him to be my UgH Brett this season.

Me and Ali are doing an EXCELLENT job at acting like we don't know each other and going deep undercover in our tribe, like, if I'm gonna be proud of anything in this game so far it'll be that and not being first boot. But mostly that. I really hope that we go far together in this game with Julia because I think the three of us could make a really good team.

C*befield is a cursed game!! literally had my laptop opened for hours doing the trick tom told us in the chat and when I finally stopped at 15B the hosts says it’s in invalid because it needs to be the game over screen but the game literally glitched so I keep going on to infinity without hitting cubes or getting game over Grrr

RIP mine and Ali’s laptop

Also Tom is drunk on the tribe chat rn. Now we just need Julia to be drunk ahsjdjd

okay Evan I see you. Making dumb dumb decisions GRRR. Him leaking EVERYTHING to JJ, like what was the endgame? He just burns everyone across the board.

With that said, if we have to go to tribal I still want JJ gone. I can't deal with anymore, him like asking to call me while i was drunk with friends on my way back from prom is so annoying, like... my life is not games, i literally.. was with friends like... boundaries.

i feel bad being mean to JJ but ughhhhhhhh. Evan also needs to have not done anything he just did. I literally... was gonna be in such a pickle next vote because Jason/Ian would've wanted Evan out, but Thomas/Jules wouldn't have. He like panicked about how out of the loop he was (which I can understand and respect), but like... this was such a, SUCH a poor way of handling it. JJ is gonna be on a reign of terror, its just going to be so tiring.

I just... am really tired of it. I'm annoying, and I get that, so its hypocritical for me to get mad at the others but like... GRRR.

i just want a final five of me, jules, julia, tom and benj. LET ME HAVE THAT.

Tom and I bonding over JJ FINALLY going home? ICONIC, SHOWSTOPPING

jj = mess

I am not sure if I already submitted a confessional on the shit that went down today but here we go.

So I wake up to see all is well. Nothing has happened much. Then Evan comes here asking me if I voted JJ and questioning me with all kinds of shit. The kid is legit panicking because from what Tom told me, he was the last to know of the flip against JJ. So now Evan thinks he’s at the bottom and is sweating bricks. All of a sudden JJ blows up in the tribe chat and he freaking knows we were gonna send him out the game if we lost the music video challenge.

I then learn that presumably mcfreaking Evan fucking leaked to JJ that he was getting voted out which caused all this mess on the tribe chat with JJ calling Tom, Jules, Evan, Ali and Julia out for lying to him and that he’s thanking me and Jason for being straight up to him? Umm I don’t get this tho because me and JJ literally did not exchange any talks about the vote. So I don’t get where he’s going with this lol. Jules was trying to calm JJ down and she was laying down the law whew. I mean if anything this blow up just secured my allaince’s control?? Like now Tom and Jules are with us and they know Evan is a rat and JJ is sinking. UNLESS this is just a freaking ploy by them in which they are being oh so extra ahsjdjd

Right now if I would have my way, Budva baes along with Tom and Jules work together for this vote. We throw most of our votes at JJ and that may include Evan. And then we tell JJ who’s pretty desperate right now to vote for Evan. I would want someone to throw one or two votes at Evan as a safety cushion in case JJ pulls out an idol. Here’s to hopIng everything goes accordingly for the Budva Baesss

Well fuck i've flopped on confessing my sins again. So last round I made probably the shittiest music video..... and I won. How in the fuck. TAKE THAT BITCHES! ON TIME QUEEN BETTER THAN A LATE ONE! But so JJ is super fucking annoying toward the original Budva people, such as myself. But he has also annoyed his tribe pretty bad. Sooooooo Jules flipped. This round it looks like he is gonna go but Evan talks too much and I wanna kill him.

RN im a paranoid mess because people are telling me to vote michael and im kind of forced to do that? The problem is, I like michael a lot so i really hope we win this challenge because i think we have a good shot. It also doesnt help that we got rid of the majority so now i could very well be going here.