They're so cute. They're so cute, right?
"Jake!" Amy yelled from the other side of the pale red door.
She scoped her surroundings, noticing only Jake's scrap metal of a car in the driveway.
"Open up!" She demanded.
When she didn't get a response, Detective Santiago wasted no time kicking in the wooden door. After pressing her back against it, – until she heard the click – she descended down the dark stairs that opened up to a spacious room. Her gun trained in a strict semi circle motion, sifting through the dimness. There, on the floor, in a fit of laughter was her partner.
Amy granted herself a ragged breath and she smoothly put away her gun.
"What the hell, Peralta?" She hissed, pushing some of the dark hair that flew into her face neatly back into place.
Jake Peralta was grinning up at Amy. There was one small puppy on his chest, a matching one next to his ear. He was sprawled on the tasteful green carpet that was placed in the center of the living area.
"Hey Amy!" Jake sang in that annoying voice he always used when he thought he outsmarted her. "What brings you here?" He asked, sitting up. One dark puppy sliding down to his lap.
Amy narrowed her eyes, giving him her best 'you've got to be kidding me' look. When his – and two other pairs of – brown eyes gaped up at her, it took all of Amy Santiago's strength not to scream at her partner.
She was also fighting the nagging desire to retrieve her gun and shoot him in the foot, just because. Jake's smirk was far too happy for a Saturday morning.
"What brings me here?" She mimicked. "What brings me here is your text!" She exclaimed.
When Jake didn't immediately owned up to his trick, Amy crossed the room, shoving her cell phone in his face. After taking a moment to reread his message, Peralta shrugged.
"Maybe we got lost in translation." Jake argued, scratching one furry little guy behind his floppy ear.
"Really, Peralta? What part of '911! Boyle's place' was misinterpreted?" Amy demanded, slowly moving towards the stairs.
Jake shrugged again, removing the small dog from his lap and standing. He then paused, scooping up the puppy with an evil grin.
"Hey Santiago? Want to pet Richard?" He thrust the puppy out towards her. Amy stepped back.
Peralta then pulled the little dog back to view, it licked his nose, sweetly. "Or is it Dan? You know, I can't tell the difference."
"Get them away from me. Now." Amy was calm, but there was an edge to her voice that Jake didn't even want to mess with.
The detective rolled his eyes, putting the puppy down on the couch next to his brother. "Since you're here.. want anything?" He turned his back and strolled to the open kitchen, leaving Amy flabbergasted.
"Peralta! Did you seriously just make me drive all the way to Queens?"
Jake smirked to himself, his back still turned. He filled two glasses of some fruity juice that Boyle said tasted like a sunset and listened as Amy stomped her way into the kitchen.
"Where's Charles?"
Jake grinned at her, offering a glass while sitting on one side of the bar-like counter.
"Physical therapy. Then he's going to try and change his meds. Thank god, right? He was becoming unbearably truthful." Jake shuttered before gulping down some orange-pink liquid.
He hummed to himself. It did taste like a sunset.
"He asked me to dog sit. He's taking this whole daddy thing way too seriously." Jake rolled his eyes.
Amy glanced longingly at the puppies that were now a safe distance away from her, snuggled up on the dark green couch. She wanted to take them seriously. Impress Captain Holt with weekly progress reports, make sure they were the best damn dogs he'd ever seen.
She sighed pathetically, not even looking at the glass before sipping.
"And you wanted me to keep you company? What for? To see how fast my throat would close up?" She gave him a daring look, wanting him to challenge her.
That's when Jake finally realized how right Boyle was.
He had been thinking about what his friend said for the past couple of days. Since his date with Amy went begrudgingly better than he planned. He couldn't get her out of his head, and Jake was starting to realize she was usually poking around in there.
Peralta was always thinking up a way to humiliate his partner. Never missed a chance to start a fight. He just assumed he was using her as a proxy sibling rivalry he was cheated out of when he was a kid. But it went deeper than that.
You don't want to make out with your sister. Not unless you were clearly deranged. Which Jake might have been. He wouldn't know. He dodged his last two psych evaluation.
He gave her a tiny glare, which was more playful than insulted.
"Would I ever do something so childish... and brilliant? I totally forgot how cute you looked when that EMS dude was shooting you full of that antihistamine."
He banged his fist on the table, snickering to himself. It really was funny.
"Cute?" She wrinkled her nose and scowled, but Jake knew better.
He knew she secretly loved that he found her attractive. And he did. Every stupid little thing Amy Santiago did seemed to drive him insane. Why did it take Charles Boyle and his evil, uncharacteristic truth bombs to force Jake to see it?
The night on the roof, getting to know Amy the person, not the cop, was refreshing. Sure they hung out. The nine nine was a family. Jake said it himself. Despite how miserable he made her, she was a good sport about the whole bet. She even followed his lead on a case. He should have shared his peanuts with her sooner.
"Yeah. Cute." He smiled.
Amy looked down, hiding her own smile.
Jake and Amy were partners, and now on their way to friends. All the smiles and laughter wasn't going to stop Jake from teasing her, especially now that he knew she could take it so well. But it didn't rule out the possibility of him feeling something... more.
Like Jake said, they were just lost in translation.