Hi! So this is... My first Brooklyn 99 fanfiction! What else can I say, but enjoy!

Jake was struggling to keep his eyes open. It was two weeks after the second Halloween heist, which meant that Captain Holt was free of paperwork for a further three weeks. And he couldn't have been happier. He watched Jake with the same expression as always, but the detective knew there was a definite satisfaction hidden in his captain's stony features. Jake rubbed his eyes with his knuckles, before forcing his pupils to focus on the paper in front of him as he wiled his brain into concentration.

The letters swam in front of Jake's vision as his eyelids fluttered again, when suddenly a noise jolted him wide awake. His head snapped up to see the source of the banging to focus on Rosa… and the unfortunate microwave that was caught in the crossfire of Detective Diaz's late night the previous evening. Jake was grateful for the sound, as it helped him to concentrate on the impossibly thick stack of paper in front of him. There was no way the captain could have this much paperwork! As he ploughed on, Jake soon started regretting that it had been the microwave that Rosa had massacred, and not the printer.

A few days passed, and the mound of documents on Jake's desk seemed to be getting higher and higher every day, no matter how much effort he put into staying on task. Every day he was up at six, working tirelessly to complete all of his and the captain's work. He stayed at the precinct until the night squad insisted he go home. He even arrived, and left, later than Amy, which earned him some approving glances from his colleague. However this, of course, did no favours to Jake's lack of sleep or his concentration problems.

It was on this particular day that Holt called Jake to his office. With his ever-straight expression, He could be calling his Detective in for anything from a party to a funeral. This man really was impossible to read. Silently speculating the nature of summon, Jake sighed as he made his way towards the open door of the captain's office. As soon as he was inside, Holt motioned for him to close the curtains. Now Jake's mind was really beginning to wonder what this was about.

"Sit down." Holt took his own seat, while Jake dropped himself heavily into one of the Captain's uniform chairs. He fought to resist the temptation to slide off the smooth surface to the floor.

"Peralta, I've noticed a change in your person lately. I see your shirt is half tucked in, your tie is askew, your hair is untidy and, correct me if I'm mistaken, but you have been wearing the same clothed for the past week. I know you are under considerable pressure from the extra work, but I have a feeling that that isn't the main source of your current appearance." The captain presented his monologue, waving a hand in the respective direction as he listed his facts.

Leaning forward when Jake remained silent, Holt glanced at the blinds to confirm that there was nobody prying at the window.

"I'm concerned for your wellbeing," he continued, before adding after a short pause, "Jake."

"Well, Capitano, I am flattered that you would think of me when you have so many other possibilities with your lack of paperwork." Peralta joked, trying hard to be his usual, sarcastic self. "But the truth is, I'm fine. Really. I've just had a few late nights." Holt could clearly spot the worn out look in his Detective's eyes, but knew there was no point in arguing with him.

"All right, you may leave." Captain Holt leaned back in his chair, retaining a fixed stare at the slouched figure sat in front of him. Jake picked himself up with difficulty as he turned for the door. As he gripped the handle, however, a voice made him stop.

"You know, your friends can't help you if you push then away."

Jake opened the door, continuing the journey to his desk without looking back. As he resumed his work, he spotted that the captain had gone back to working on his laptop. Yet, every so often, he could spot Holt glancing up at him through the door. And, every so often, Jake glanced up to focus on Detective Santiago working neatly on the desk adjacent to his own.

"What were you thinking?" Holt stormed into the interrogation room, slamming the door behind him as he surveyed his detective, outraged. The younger man was staring hazily into his lap, his head resting in his hands which were bound to the table by handcuffs.

"Public Intoxication! I have had several civilian complaints. You stood outside a block of flats and refused to leave for hours or tell anyone where you lived! As soon as I heard about it I came in here. I know you haven't been yourself lately, but this is really getting out of hand!" The captain had finally cooled down slightly, sitting on the chair across the table from Detective Peralta and placing his hands onto the table.

Jake looked up for the first time, and Holt was taken aback to see that the younger man's eyes were brimming with tears, his breaths coming out slowly and shakily. Raymond sighed, studying his Detective sympathetically. All the anger was gone from his face. He should have known. He finally understood why his employee had been acing so strangely over the past few weeks; the source of his conflict was finally revealed.

"That block you were outside. That was…" Holt began slowly, not finishing his sentence when Jake nodded sullenly. He couldn't even look his captain in the eye.

"I can't get her out of my head." Jake croaked, speaking for the first time. The captain sighed again, understanding the dilemma that his employee… his friend… was faced with.

"I see. Wait here." Raymond stood up and left the room, leaving Jake staring at his handcuffs and pondering over whether his captain had actually made a joke. A few minutes passed, and the captain was back through the door. Only, this time, he brought with his another person.

"Jake?" He looked up at the new arrival at the sound of his name being spoken in the familiar voice.

Amy followed Holt into the room, her gaze flicking between the two men as she concocted likely scenario that would justify the scene before her.

"What's going on?" She spoke again when no one answered her question.

"Detective Peralta needs a day off work. I'd like you to accompany him home." The look he game Amy very clearly said I don't think he should be alone right now. Understanding the message, Amy watched as Holt unlocked her friend's handcuffs.

"Thank you very much, Captain," Jake began, "but I don't need Detective Santiago babysitting me." He commented with the usual air of arrogance, and was considerably surprised when Holt didn't argue.

"Fine." The Captain just agreed, crossing his arms and planting his feet in a firm stance. "If you can walk out of this room, you can get back to work."

"Easy peasy, lemon squeez-OW!" Jake's sly grin was sharply cut off as he collided with the wall several feet left of the door.

"Who put a door there?" He looked around at his companions in confusion, muttering something under his breath that sounded very much like stupid bricks, always getting in the way!

As Jake swayed rather dangerously from his disorientation, Amy stepped forward. Placing a firm arm around his shoulders, she gently guided her co-worker out of the actual door, and looked back at her mentor. It could have been just a trick of the light, but she was almost convinced she could see a smile on Holt's face as the pair left the Precinct together.

The journey back to Jake's house was a relatively slow process, but eventually the detectives made it to the flat with no further problems. Neither looked at the other as Amy drove, nor said anything. Amy had never seen her fellow detective in this way, but knew better than to just carelessly ask him what was wrong. She knew by now: Jacob Peralta was more complicated than that.

Finally, the pair were sat at Jake's old, wooden table.

"I'll go make some tea." Amy announced, disappearing into Jake's kitchen. A few minutes later she re-emerged, holding two cans of beer.

"I know this may not be the best thing for you right now but the only think you had was hot chocolate, and both that and the milk was about three years past its expiration date. Also, I'm pretty sure you forgot to pay your water bill. All that came out of the tap was brown sludge. And in your bathroom, the- sorry, I'm rambling." She finished with a curt apology and an apologetic smile, before taking the seat opposite Jake.

The following silence was agonisingly long and held out, but Amy finally managed to find the words she was looking for.

"So. You wanna talk about it?" She suggested, peering at Jake cautiously. He was staring into his bottle, refusing to make eye contact with Amy. Eventually, he mumbled a response.

"Yeah… just this girl."

"Oh." Amy was slightly taken aback by this – it wasn't like her friend to get hung up over a woman.

"I really like her, but I don't know if she feels the same way." Jake's speech was starting to become slightly slurred, yet in his eyes Amy could tell that he was fully aware in what he was saying. He finally looked up into Amy's eyes ruefully, holding her gaze as he confessed.

"Well, this girl doesn't seem all that great. Have I met her?"

Amy, if only you knew.

"No." Jake replied, hating himself for lying to his friend like this.

"Well, as I said, if she's causing you to be in this state, then I really don't think she's worth getting hung up over." Amy pointed out, wondering who this new mysterious figure could be. When she heard her friend's admission, however, she did experience a strange feeling. She couldn't work out what it was, but she knew it wasn't pity for her friend. It was something else, something more personal to her. Something more like j-

"Yeah, maybe you're right." Jake concluded, not taking his eyes off Amy. Caught up in her own thoughts, the Detective looked up in surprise.

"Hmm? Yeah, of course. Come on, let's get you to bed." The corners of Amy's mouth twitched slightly, seeing all seriousness gone from Peralta's face as he assumed an amusing expression.

"But it's not past my bedtime yet!" He whined in a child-like imitation, nevertheless a yawn sweeping across his tired features.

Jake and Amy. Just two co-workers, working together… as cos…

There was nothing special in their friendship, and neither would ever admit otherwise. Jake was back to the usual amount of paperwork, and his original, comfortable relationship with Amy. That is, until they go undercover as Johnny and Dora…

Well that's that... thoughts, comments? I'd be grateful for any and all feedback!