It begins with a phone call: the phone call that took Jake and Holt away from them.
It's punctuated by another: the phone call that brings Kevin home.
Even from her desk, Amy can hear the professor's raised voice—raised, controlled enough to be short of shouting—from Terry's phone. The Sergeant is doing his best to explain just why all of Kevin's calls to his husband's phone have gone unanswered in the past twenty-four hours without actually explaining. The situation is too delicate to risk explaining over the phone, but Terry promises answers as soon as Kevin's plane lands. Begrudgingly, it seems, Kevin agrees to this.
Which is how Amy and the remainder of the Nine-Nine find themselves huddled together in the airport, flanked by federal agents. It's not an ideal situation for anyone, but admittedly necessary given their foe's reach.
Although Amy can't claim to truly know Kevin, she feels she knows his exact thoughts as she spots him in the throng of people moving towards them. It appears he's skipped straight past the baggage claim, his gait short of a jog but decidedly hurried. As he finally nears them, the words leave his mouth before he can even come to a full stop.
"Sergeant Jeffords, is Raymond—"
"Captain Holt is fine," Terry says, cutting him off gently. "He can't be here, but he's not injured or in harm's way at the moment."
There's a half a second where Kevin doesn't seem to know what to do with himself before he gropes blindly for the wall, using it to steady himself. Amy catalogues the dark circles beneath his eyes—which are pressed closed in an obvious attempt to ground himself—as well as the weary sigh that escapes him and his pale complexion. It all speaks of sleepless, worried nights just now catching up to him which she sees, yes, but feels more than anything. Feels because it mirrors her own exhaustion in its causes and manifestations so precisely. But a split second later, all emotion is quietly and efficiently tucked away, replaced once more by his usual professional demeanor.
"You said 'at the moment,'" Kevin exclaims. "What precisely did you mean by that?"
There's a ripple of discomfort felt through the squad.
"That's actually part of the reason Sarge couldn't explain over the phone," Amy informs him. "We'll be able to discuss it in detail once we're on the road."
"I still think we should do this in Rosa's panic room," Charles declares.
"I already told you, I moved," Rosa says.
"Oh, and you expect me to believe your new digs don't have a panic room?"
"They don't."
Terry eyeballs the group as if to ask whether they're finished. Rosa shrugs.
"It has a fallout shelter," she says.
"Boyle, before you ask, no, we are not going to have this discussion inside Rosa's fallout shelter," Terry says, his expression telling Amy he's in danger of breaking a glass door upon their exit. "Now let's help Dr. Cozner with his bags and get this show on the road already."
Kevin takes the explanation for Holt's whereabouts in stride, Amy thinks. His shoulders droop marginally and a frown creeps its way onto his brow, but that is the extent of any outward show of emotion through the telling of the tale. That is, apart from one thing. Once Terry explains that both Holt and Jake have been placed in Witness Protection, Amy suddenly finds Terry is no longer the one Kevin is looking at. The moment Jake's name leaves Terry's lips, Kevin's gaze latches onto her. It's only for a few, brief moments, but she swears something unspoken passes between them. Something in the way he looks at her speaks of an understanding that, in their own way, they're in this together.
After six months away from his husband, Amy expects the news that he will be separated from Holt indefinitely to be greeted by Kevin rather poorly. Instead, there are approximately ten seconds of silence as the professor digests this news and comes to terms with the situation at hand before he looks up, shoulders squared.
"Very well. Now, what are we going to do about it?"
No one's quite sure how to bring this up.
"Well… we're going to be working the case. Because we're the police. Detectives. Police detectives who investigate crime," Charles initiates awkwardly. "You're…"
"Not going to sit idly by and do nothing to contribute," Kevin says stiffly. He sighs, touching his fingertips to his temple. "Listen to me; using a double negative. I apologize. This news has me somewhat flustered."
"Understandably," Terry says, still trying to handle this matter as gently as possible. "And while I understand you'd like to like to help, this really is a matter for the NYPD and the FBI."
Amy watches Kevin rub his palms together, his lips pressed into a thin, unhappy line. "I realize that I am not… one of you. I have no authority in this matter. Or any legal matter. However, I would be remiss if I didn't offer my assistance in any way it may be needed. If there is anything I can do that may help in some way, no matter how small, to bring my Raymond and Detective Peralta home, then I want it understood that you needn't hesitate to ask."
"You won't be kept out of the loop," Amy promises him, speaking up at last. "Whatever direction we're facing, whatever leads we're chasing, I'll keep you so updated you'll think you'd been in the briefing room with us."
Kevin's answering smile is small, but genuine, if Amy is reading him right. "Thank you, Detective Santiago. I understand this must be very difficult for you as well."
"Mmmmm," Gina hums disapprovingly as she types away on her phone. "You might wanna try calling her 'Amy' now, considering y'all gonna be roomies."
"I'm sorry?" Kevin says, eyebrows rising nearly to his hairline.
"That's the other thing," Terry says slowly. "Since Jake and Captain Holt are the ones being targeted, we have to assume that Figgis is willing to use the people closest to them in order to draw them out. Which means we can't allow either of you to return to your homes."
"…I see," Kevin says at length. "Which means Detective Santiago—Amy—and I will be sharing rooms elsewhere."
"The FBI's selected a secure location where both of you can be monitored," Terry explains. "Your commute might be a little longer and you might notice some guys in suits and sunglasses tailing you, but it's the best we can do for the time being."
Again, Amy is surprised by how Kevin seems to take this news in stride. Rather than debate the issue or waste time being put out by it, he simply proceeds to his next train of thought.
"I'll have to make arrangements for Cheddar," he declares. His gaze finds her again. "As I recall, you have quite the severe dog allergy."
"You remembered," Amy says, telling herself not to read too far into it.
"Well, Raymond and I did find you barricaded in our bathroom and sneezing rather violently, once upon a time," Kevin says, the corners of his lips twitching. "Something of that nature tends to leave a lasting impression."
"Yeah. That did happen, didn't it?" Amy asks, doing her best not to remember and failing miserably.
Kevin ducks his head in acknowledgement. "In any case, I… appreciate the lengths which all of you have gone to treat this matter delicately. Raymond has always had the utmost faith in your abilities. I trust him and his judgement, which is why I'm confident that you will bring this case to a successful conclusion."
It's a 'thank you' in his own way, Amy thinks.
The rest of the ride is made in silence. Staring out the window, Amy can't help but wonder what the future holds in store for all of them. It was one thing when it was just trying to figure out her relationship with Jake. Now she has to wonder when she'll even see him again. Or talk to him. Though she's sure Kevin's not nearly as amenable to the situation as he seems, Amy can't help but find herself glad that they'll be cohabitating. The thought of returning to her apartment or Jake's or the sight of that stupidly empty new bed makes her feel so…
She swallows thickly. No. She can do this. She's Detective Amy Santiago of the Nine-Nine. And if Figgis thinks he's getting out of this without having to deal with her personally, he's got another thing coming to him.
Or… he will.
Once they actually figure out who he is.
Or where he is.
Or what he looks like.
…
Dammit.