lackadaisicalnereid | fic: of realizations and rooftops (b99, amy/jake) (Reply)

Amy isn't a romantic girl, but she spends at least four minutes (and a few uncounted seconds) every working day trying to judge from Captain Holt's variety of facial expressions how Jake's assignment is going; that’s obviously perfectly normal and expected and not something that’s suspicious or out of the ordinary at all. She knows this, because she’s a detective, a good detective at that, and she’s learned to recognize the out of-the-ordinary things when they happen.

Amy isn't a romantic girl, she’s work oriented (but not to a worrying degree, of course) and she's responsible too. She goes home alone every day, mostly before midnight, and sees Teddy mostly during the weekend, when they both have time to spare. They finally go to the romantic getaway they've been planning for a while now. It’s a straight-out-of-the-movies sort of thing, they walk through orchards and pick apples and he feeds her spaghetti and it’s all she’s ever thought she wanted, all they’ve ever planned, only, well – nothing.

Nothing at all.

They all talk about it. The be-all end-all it that is Jake’s absence and supposed heroism during the absence. They sit in removed corners in their usual bar and they talk. (And talk and talk and talk.) Rosa thinks it's cool how Jake's doing this and says this repeatedly, still sounds aloof but Amy’s learned by now that she means what she says. Boyle's a mixture of worry and a tiny bit of envy, which is expected. He thinks of different scenarios and tells fantastic stories of all the brilliant things he thinks Jake’s doing right now. Gina talks about parrots and sometimes crows, for some reason or other, or perhaps without any reason at all, and Terry just tears up occasionally, when the stories Boyle tells get too dark or too close to Jake dying, but other than that he mostly just looks so very proud, it makes Amy feel something close to pride as well. And Amy, she laughs and tells jokes that no one laughs at but her and she makes everyone talk about all the things they won't miss. She talks about Jake and how he'd be annoyingly loud sometimes and how he'd brag incessantly whenever he solved a case and how he'd occasionally sing to himself while he was typing up reports. She mostly wants to make them talk about these things because that’s a lot better than missing him or thinking about those things that he said that she doesn’t think about, not at all, no sir.

She breaks up with Teddy. (This obviously has nothing to do with Jake.) It’s not you, she tells him, hair in a tight bun, pacing while he’s sitting on the sofa in his living room. Her heels will kill her if this break-up doesn’t, she thinks. She talks and talks and spins a web of stories and half-truths and it’s for her comfort as much as it’s for his, which is probably the only reason she's able to do this anyway. She can’t really go and tell him Oh, I think I might be in love with Jake because it makes zero sense to break up with Teddy over that. Jake’s gone, she doesn’t know for sure when he’ll be back and if he meant what he said at all andif he’ll still mean it when he comes back. And she’s not in love with Jake anyway. I don’t think this is working, she tells Teddy. Polite, nice Teddy who nods and sighs and kisses her forehead after she’s collected her toothbrush and toothpaste and shower gel and shampoo and hair conditioner out of his bathroom.

She dreams of him that night. The Jake him, not the Teddy him. To someone a little less in denial, that might’ve been a clue about the validity of the break-up, but she’s a lot in denial, so it’s not. She dreams of Jake coming back, only for some reason, probably because she’s watched An Officer and a Gentleman recently (and way too many times before) in the dream Jake’s wearing a white uniform and he walks into their precinct and he picks her up even if she’s pretty sure he couldn’t pull that off as gracefully in real life as he does in her dream and then he carries her out in his arms. The dream ends there and she doesn’t know what would’ve happened next, even if she sort-of-maybe wishes she did. Maybe.

Amy likes smoking, has liked it for years now. She likes the scent of her orange Pall Mall cigarettes, soft and yet bitter, likes the way it feels in her hand, like a part of her and a tool and a shield and a weapon all at once. She likes the way it feels on her lips, likes that it’s a private thing, something she can do on her own, without disturbances and she especially likes how it will mostly drive people away from her when they occasionally find her when she's smoking.

It’s about noon on a Monday and there is nothing particular about this day whatsoever. Probably the only thing keeping this day pleasantly boring is that fact that no one knows yet about her break-up with Teddy, so there’s no questions to answer and invitations to burn Teddy’s stuff to say no to. (It’s not like she has Teddy’ things anyway.) She’s just working quietly, sorting through some paperwork or other, some tiny pile of papers on her desk, because she never lets the amount of her paperwork get out of control and she’s contemplating going outside for a cigarette in a minute or two.

She takes her purse when she’s finished her work and heads out, already taking the pack of cigarettes out of her purse on the way to the roof. Maybe on the roof she can finally set her thoughts into order, the thoughts about Jake and the dream that didn't happen and didn't mean anything. She steps out onto the rooftop, it’s sunny and just warm enough, other than the occasional breeze and she likes it this way. She finds the lighter soon and decides that she likes that she gets this, a moment of peace and quiet in the sun, even if everything else is out of place and boring and ordinary and especially with all of those thoughts in her head not revolving around all the things Jake hasn’t said to her especially in light of none of these things facilitating her break-up with Teddy in any way whatsoever.

She’s looking down, relaxed, leaning against the railing and she's taking a drag as she’s trying to remember who was it that said that thing about Pall Mall cigarettes being a classy way to commit suicide and then -

"I hear those are bad for you," a voice behind her says, a voice that can only be –

"—can I have one?"

She turns around to see Jake half-smiling at her, though she can’t really tell if he’s happy he’s back or that he’s talking to her or that he’s caught her smoking and is already making a lists of all the awful things he could say to mock her about this. She wants to throw the cigarette at him, imagines him catching fire, even if that’s really impossible, wants to punch him in the groin and wants to just look at him for a while. Until she’s sure he’s really here. She wants to kiss him too and shout at him and tell him she broke up with Teddy for no reason in particular.

She settles for taking a moment to just look at him then. He doesn’t look injured or sick or like he was tortured to the brink of death and she feels relief then. This is good, he’s back. He came back (to her). He’s wearing a blue shirt and jeans and he doesn’t seem at all different than before. His hair’s a bit messed up, like always, and he’s sort of smiling and she can never really tell what he’s thinking when he smiles that way and this is all so annoying, she wants to scream. Giving him the once-over, she becomes increasingly aware of her own body and clothes, her usual neat bun and grey shirt and skirt. It’s become sort of hotter in the few seconds she’s been looking at him. She guesses she probably hasn’t moved or said anything in a while now, because now he’s walking closer to her and next he takes the cigarette from her hand. There’s lipstick on the cigarette (red, but appropriate for work anyway) and if she thinks about it (which she doesn’t) she could almost think of this as kissing. He studies the cigarette and then takes a drag and she’d use the opportunity to speak, only she has no idea what to say.

"You don’t smoke," she blurts out and regrets it immediately. This is all so ridiculous. He’s been away for six months and this is the first thing she says. Ridiculous, completely ridiculous.

"I don’t," he says and she thinks he’s trying to make her eyes meet his, which would work if she wasn’t onto him and avoiding his stare. He offers her the cigarette back and she takes it. She’s careful not to brush her fingers against his.

"You know, Santiago, I hear that in some cultures it’s customary to greet –"

"I broke up with Teddy," she lets slip between drags.

(If she weren’t avoiding looking at his face, she might be able to see him smile just then.)

"You promised you weren’t going to fall in love with me," he says then, reminds her of what she said to him on their date. She can’t tell if he’s teasing her now or mocking her or trying to say something she’s obviously not able to understand and her skin seems to be starting to itch and she feels the sun more than before and she thinks she can’t breathe so she takes two steps towards him and then she kisses him. He tastes like the cigarette he had and she supposes she does as well but his lips are soft and seem to fit nicely against hers and she’s pretty sure has no idea what’ll happen after she ends the kiss, so she doesn’t. But he’s not pulling away either, he’s just put his hands on her back and pulled her closer to him and her hands are in his hair now. He winces then, which is probably bad and very unexpected.

"You’re burning my hair," he tells her and she drops her cigarette then instinctively.

"I’m sorry, I –"

"It’s alright."

He still hasn’t moved away, she notices then and laughs, because this is funny. They’ve been kissing and she almost lit his hair on fire. He doesn’t laugh though. (He smiles, and that probably counts for something as well.)

"I'm pretty sure this is the part when you're supposed to proclaim your undying love for me, Santiago. I’m waiting here."

She definitely thinks he’s teasing her right now. But there’s a smile in his voice and in his eyes and on his lips and she thinks she might grow to like the teasing more if he continues to tease her with that smile on his face.

"Shut up, Peralta," she says and she kisses him anyway and it’s only partially to shut him up.

fic: of realizations and rooftops (b99, amy/jake)

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