#when amy pretending johnny and dora were having their honeymoon in waco

[whim-prone-pirate]

songs about cities in texas that really aren't relevant enough to have songs written about them

valentine, texas — mitski

waco, texas — ethel cain

#granted valentine is much less of a place than waco #but the only time someone outside of dfw has ever talked about waco tx was in brooklyn 99 #when amy pretending johnny and dora were having their honeymoon in waco #ethel cain #mitski #waco texas #valentine texas

[amyscascadingtabs]

nothing safe is worth the drive

“and you?” “he makes me laugh.”

read on ao3

Three years after the words were first uttered, when all that remains of secretive pining and violently denying any semblance of feelings for each other is memories, he will ask her about her reasons for saying them.

They’ll be on their honeymoon then. Their real one with Parisian destination, not the made-up one to Waco, Texas. They’ll be Jake and Amy, not Johnny and Dora or any other fake identity, and they’ll be celebrating two weeks as happily, exuberantly married.

They’ll be in the king-size luxurious bed taking up most of the hotel room. The fact that they’re there at all will still feel unreal to them after the Nutri-Boom scam, but their squad family led by Boyle will all have pitched in to help them go on their dream trip, and so they’ll have made it to France in the end.

They’ll be laying next to each other, still catching their breath after the morning’s earlier activities - a honeymoon is a honeymoon, after all. The sun will be shining through the curtains, illuminating his face and the skin of his bare upper body with a soft golden glow, and she’ll look at him and think that maybe he is magic, sparkling and vibrating magic to convince her she’s the luckiest woman in the Universe to be here next to him. He’ll gaze at her with adoration in his eyes, as if maybe she is the magic she considers him to be, and he’ll close the barely existent distance between them to draw her in for another kiss. This kiss will be warm, less heated and searing than the ones only minutes before, filled with tenderness and gratefulness. They’ll be smiling against each other’s lips.

It’s when they part, and she moves so she can lay in his arms and he can play with her hair, still curled from yesterday’s dinner-date, that the conversation will start.

He’ll ask her about the undercover mission. He’ll be referring to the one where they kissed twice, taking initiative once each, giving their all to pretend it was for work and meaningless when their quickly beating hearts were telling them the opposite, and to be even more precise, he’ll ask about why.

He’ll wonder why she was honest in telling Augustine and his sidepiece about the true reason she had fallen for him, revealing how he makes her laugh instead of coming up with a vague pretend statement such as he first attempted to.

This is when she’ll tell him.

Amy doesn’t know any of this when she says the words, of course. She’s oblivious about her romantic future and in direct disbelief it would ever involve Jake Peralta, because even though he’s admitted to liking her thrice now and she has to admit there’s been more than one daydream involving her kissing him, she has a rule about not dating any cops. Amy Santiago doesn’t break rules, especially not when said rules involve professionalism, so a future day where she’s Jake’s legally wedded wife is light years away from anything she’s picturing.

In the moment before she says it, she knows three things.

She knows Jake likes her. From romantic-stylez to that wasn’t nothing, that was real to I was kind of thinking about asking you out, there’s been three official accounts of some sort of revealment of romantic interest from him. Outside of mentioned three occasions, there’s also glances lingering ever slightly longer than necessary, peculiar behavior and rushed attempts at recovering from an accidentally flirty comment. There’s been sudden smiles aimed towards her, ones she’s been unable to successfully decipher, and there’s been something in the way he bites his lip and nods without meeting her eyes, steering the conversation to a case or yet another joke when she’s briefly mentioned a date with another guy. Amy’s not a moron. She can add two and two together. There’s interest there.

She knows Jake has the brightest smile she’s ever seen, one incandescently so, and she knows she’s spent an excessive amount of time thinking about it. When someone gives him a compliment and he accepts it, he will blush as he’s smiling, eyes gleaming before he looks down. She knows how his brain works differently from hers and anyone else’s in the precinct, how it appears unqualified to focus on everyday matters such as being on time or keeping his desk tidy and crumb-free, but how he’s also the one who comes up with the ideas no one else would think of. She knows there’s never a boring work day when he’s there, she knows the rare moments of his emotional honesty always leaves an impression, and she knows the way he cares for the people he loves is poignant and awe-inspiring.

She counts everything she knows about him to the same point of knowledge, only because it’s not really knowledge at all, but rather a big question mark about what feelings her thoughts about him translate to, and if they’re romantic ones.

She knows she has a choice. He won’t make it for her, because he’s still gentlemanly enough to stick to his promise of them working this case like professionals and keep away from any personal revelations. No, the decision is undoubtedly hers to make, in this very moment and not a second later.

She says it.

She says it for brutally failed endeavors at slam-dunking a basketball, ridiculous backstories for undercover personalities and inappropriate quips about sextapes. It’s for the same word repeated twenty times at an impossible pace, for enthusiastic sing-alongs to songs on the radio during late night drives and competitions in catching peanuts with your mouth. She says it for made-up tunes about dumpster diving, for fake voices to a nanny-cam teddy bear and for never-ending robot impressions. It’s for innovative arguments and childish enthusiasm, for nicknames and comebacks and grimaces, for his astounding ability to have the corners of her mouth twitch slightly even when she tries to prevent it.

“He makes me laugh”, she tells the woman whose name they still haven’t learned, meaning every syllable of the four words and more.

Surprise is palpable in his smile for a brief flashing moment, then an understanding nod and a sudden change in tone when he admits to her opinion being, in his own words, the only one he really cares about.

Little does she know then of the three years later, when she’ll tell him the answer of why in a reply so simple as actually, I’m not sure, and he will shrug and say whatever reason she had, he’s happy she did.

She will trail kisses along his collarbone before answering, and then she’ll say, so am I, Jake, so am I.

#my writing #b99 fic #b99 fanfiction #brooklyn 99 fic #brooklyn 99 fanfiction #jake x amy fic #jake x amy fanfiction #this is just pure self-indulgent unnecessarily poetic fluff #ur welcome