"Come on, Jake. Let's go."
Amy was trying to drag Jake out of the bar. It was a Thursday night, and he refused to leave his seat.
"No." He pouted.
"Jake! I have to wake up early and you're my ride. Please!"
"Not unless you have a beer with me."
"I'm not letting you drink and drive."
"I don't want to drive, anyway."
She sighed. "You won't let me touch your car, and I need to go home. Jake, come on."
"Maybe I'll let you drive it this time."
Amy was surprised. "What?"
"Maybe I'll let you drive my fabulous car."
"It's a mess."
"It's perfect just as it is."
"It once broke down in the highway."
"How do you even know that?"
Jake was staring at her, surprise evident in his face.
"I was with you, idiot."
"You were?"
Amy laughed. "No, I wasn't. But you called me instead of calling someone to come pick it up."
"Oh." He remembered the deed. "Oh yeah! I remember that! I was just so confused."
"So, you called me."
"Of course. You have a binder for everything, I thought you might have a binder for highway accidents."
"I have a binder for car accidents, highway accidents are just a subcategory. Actually, there's a lot of-"
"Yeah, yeah, no one cares." Jake waved the matter away with his hands. "Why are you so eager to get home? You never have to wake up early, you usually just do that naturally."
"Are you kidding?" Amy glared at him. "Jake, I'm going away for a couple of months tomorrow. I've told you this! Do you even listen to what I have to say?"
"I… I do, but-"
"But what, Jake?" Amy got up and picked her jacket. "You know what, I've had it with you. I'm just calling a cab."
"Amy, wait! I'm sorry!"
She stopped and turned back to face him.
"It just feels like you don't care about me."
Jake was speechless. Amy left.
I thought I saw you in the Battleship,
But it was only a look-alike.
Jake and Amy's relationship was complicated, to say the least. They met in college, Jake studying Criminology and Amy studying Art History. They soon became close friends, and then more than that. However, due to unforeseen circumstances, Jake had to drop out of his course, which left their love life strained. Amy was trying her best to finish her academic course, and Jake decided to enrol in the police academy. When Amy graduated, Jake was already a NYPD cop for some months. Amy kept pursuing her career in academia, and they both felt incredibly divorced from the other's world. So, they decided to break things off, on a permanent basis.
They tried to keep in touch, but their wildly different schedules didn't allow for much time to talk to each other, let alone meet and do something. The texts between each other went from weeks apart, to months, to none at all. They stopped contacting the other and moved on with their lives.
Until, one night, Amy got robbed. She had to give all her money and some belongings. Before the stranger could ransack her purse, she kicked him where it truly hurt and ran. She found herself in a police station a few hours later and approached the first person she could.
"Sir, could you please help me?"
"Of course." He turned around. "How may I help- Amy?"
"Jake? Jake Peralta?"
"The one and only!" He smiled widely, but then his expression grimed. "Wait, why are you here? Is everything alright?"
"I… Yeah, I'm fine! Well, I'm not, I was just robbed and-"
"Are you okay?"
"Yeah, I'm kind of shaken, but I'm fine."
"Oh, God, you probably want to file a report. Follow me." He stretched his hand.
She gladly took it, and he guided her through the confusing halls of the police station, until she found herself in a desk, with the name 'Det. Jake Peralta' written on it.
He sat her down in a chair next to his and asked her to describe the events as well as she could.
"Take your time. No rush."
"Thank you."
She explained the events as best as she could, and Jake told her she did a great job. He also told Amy to wait there while he was going to talk to some people to see what he could do about her case.
So, there she sat. Staring at the desk of her former best friend.
"Detective, huh?" She asked to no one in particular, while holding the plaque.
He'd made it to detective. She was proud of him, especially because he was so crushed when he left college. That was years ago, though. Sometimes, she barely remembered those days. They seemed like a foggy memory in her mind, having to wave away at some parts to see others clearly.
She caressed the plaque, feeling the metal twist and turn to form his name. Weird how things ended this way. They seemed to have everything in their favour, back then.
"Miss me that much?" She heard him ask.
She jumped and put the plaque on its place. "I was just admiring the metal!"
"Nerd. And liar." He sat back down on his chair.
"Confident, aren't you Peralta?"
He smiled. "I'm always confident."
"Stupidly so."
Jake changed the subject. "I've talked to people, and they're going to scout the area to see if they find a man of your description around. Usually, these things get solved in about forty-eight hours, so the fact you reported this so early is probably going to help us – and you – out a lot."
"Wow, so professional! Definitely not the Jake I knew in college."
"I had to memorize this, to be honest." He stretched. "Hey, you know what? My shift's about to end. Do you want to go to a nearby bar and catch up?"
"I don't know… I'm still kind of shaken about the whole ordeal."
Jake nodded. "Of course. Do you want me to drop you home?"
Amy smiled. "I'd appreciate that."
"Do you want a police officer guarding your home tonight?"
She looked at him, flabbergasted. "God, I don't think that's necessary. It was just a street robbery, I think, and they didn't follow me. I really don't think it's something that has to be done! I'm good with you dropping me home." She started braiding her hair, unconsciously.
"Calm down, I was joking. I might've taken it too far though, sorry. I didn't mean to rattle you."
Amy calmed down. "It's fine! I'm just kind of stressed out."
"I can tell." He pointed at her hair. "I guess it's good to know some things never change."
She smiled, embarrassed, and he smiled back.
"Come on." Jake got up. "Let's get you home."
Amy stood up and followed him to his car. Upon reaching his parking space, Amy was in awe.
"You still have this car?"
"Of course! What would have I done with it?"
"Send it to the scrapyard?"
Jake looked genuinely offended. "I could never do that."
She reached for his shoulders. "It would be a merciful death."
"How can I kill something that's still alive and kicking?"
"We'll see about that."
They both got in the car, and Jake turned on the ignition.
"See?"
"I'll only testify of its safety if I reach home."
The drive to Amy's place was loud, catching up on the years that they hadn't talked to each other. Jake explained his story about how he went from cop to detective, and how he didn't really expect to even get so far in his career. Someone higher up inspired him, however, and he worked hard to be where he was. He liked to think he earned his spot in the upper floor. Amy looked at him, realising she missed his never-ending blabbering and nonsense, that was all still somehow down to Earth. Sooner than she expected, they arrived at her house.
"That's me."
"Noice. It was nice catching up with you!"
"It was nice catching up with you too!"
Amy left the car and shut the door.
"I'll just see if you get home safely from here, alright?" Jake yelled, from inside the car.
Amy did a thumbs up, and was about to cross the street, when a thought crossed her mind. She doubled back, opened the car door, and asked Jake for his phone number.
"So we can just talk, you know? I've missed talking to you."
Jake smiled, his goofy smile, the one she originally fell for. "Were you that attached to me?"
She punched his shoulder. "Do you want to keep in touch or not?"
He fumbled for his phone. "Yes! Yes, I do."
They exchanged phone numbers, promising to talk at least once a week. Jake saw Amy enter her building and drove off.
She was nothing but a vision trick,
Under the warning light.
They talked for more than once a week. In fact, they talked nearly every day, talking about their days, their careers, how they were going. Anything that came to their minds they texted the other. Sometimes, they even met in person, when their busy schedules allowed it.
"You know, all this catching up, and I still have no idea what you do." Jake said to Amy, one night.
"Really?"
"All you do is complain about your co-workers, and their lack of organizational skills."
"That's not all I do."
"I have the screenshots to prove it."
"You screenshot our conversations?"
"Only the interesting ones."
"What is that supposed to mean?"
He shrugged. "That's up to me to decide."
They both laughed, and Amy launched in an explanation of what she did. She usually evaluated pieces of art, trying to distinguish the period of history where they might be from or, if they're from a famous author, try to distinguish which era it might've been. She had written several papers on several subjects, but never something solo. She felt like she always needed a second pair of eyes and told her insecurities to Jake.
"Have you ever given it shot? A solo work, I mean."
"I have, but I don't know if it's any good."
"You can always talk to me, you know?"
"I don't know if you have what it takes to check these works out. No offense, but you're not really in the circles of academia." She grimaced. "Sorry if that sounded snobby."
"No, no it's fine." Jake nodded. "I understand. But you know, I do have to file police reports."
"Horribly, I may add."
"As I was saying! I file police reports. I think I understand the language enough to get a hang of things."
Amy thought about it. He was perceptive, surprisingly so. Maybe it wasn't a bad idea to check her writing by him, just as a failsafe.
"All right! I'm going to try the solo project! I even have a few ideas ready…"
"Yes!" He lifted his beer bottle. "To the future!"
"To the future!" Their bottles touched, and the sound of glass hitting soon faded with the noise of the restaurant. But they were smiling, and everything was all right.
She was close,
Close enough to be your ghost.
Problems soon arose with their compromise.
Jake's availability to work soon became sparse, much to Amy's despair. She wrote too much for Jake to catch up, and she relied too much on him. He found himself constantly reassuring her that what he had read was great, before being drilled with questions about the content, which he had to answer in detail.
Needless to say, both were exhausted.
Amy eventually stopped talking to Jake about the content of her work, choosing to go in one hundred percent solo, failsafe be damned. She really didn't feel like Jake was helping her, though. He felt more like a positivity mine, one she hated exploring.
Jake was getting tired on his own end and was guilty to feel relieved when Amy stopped asking for her to check her work. Unbeknownst to her, he had spent a lot of nights researching her subjects, trying to understand as much as she was sending her. That made him lose focus on his work, making his detective skills somewhat sloppy.
Their meet-ups were less and less frequent, and both feared that they were going to lose touch for good, this time. However, they didn't try to reach out to the other about their insecurities, feeling they were a burden.
In one of those face to face meetings, Amy told Jake about her plans of spending a few months abroad, for research on her solo project. Jake nodded and agreed excitedly, but he didn't really register her words properly. When, the night before her leaving, Amy was so insisting on getting together, Jake agreed though he didn't really know why she was pushing it so hard.
At the time.
A few hours have passed since their last encounter, and they both felt awful. Wanting to contact the other, but afraid that they were still angry, both put it off indefinitely.
"When she's ready, she'll talk to me." Jake said to his empty apartment.
"When he's ready, he'll talk to me." Amy said to her neatly stacked clothes, now laying on her suitcase.
The empty feeling remained.
But my chances turned to toast,
When I asked her if I could call her your name.
Jake spent a lot more times in bars, now. Not necessarily drinking, but always searching. Hoping to see her face, her neatly tied hair, her nervous demeanour when a big project was being made.
Jake missed Amy.
He missed her more than the first time around, and he had no idea why. Was he in love? No, he couldn't be. They'd tried that once, and it ended so badly that they stopped talking altogether. They were just good friends, that's all. Really good friends. The best of friends.
He let his head fall on the table. He was exhausted, giving himself more and more work, and not letting himself rest. It was a way to cope with his feelings, and he was making good arrest numbers, but his captain was worried about his health. As such, he made Jake take a few days off work, just to reset things.
It was his first night off, and he was at another random bar, somewhere in New York, near the college where Amy worked. Worked? Works? He didn't know where Amy was, and she didn't seem interested in letting him know.
He felt it was all his fault. Maybe if he hadn't compromised to proof read her work, maybe if he had never given her the idea to go solo, maybe if. All he could do was think of the "maybe if's", but there was nothing he could do.
Another thing ruined by him.
That's when he caught a glance of a ponytail, so familiar to him he could recognise it anywhere. He approached her, and soon a question fell from his lips.
"Amy?"
The person turned around, and he immediately regretted saying anything.
"Sorry, you must have me mistaken for someone else."
"Yeah. Sorry about that."
Jake sighed, got in his car, and went home.
I thought I saw you in the Rusted Hook,
Huddled up in a wicker chair.
Amy was currently in Paris, watching the landscape through her hotel window. It was such a different city from New York, appearing to be chaotically spread, but organised in its own beautiful way. She almost wanted to do a whole essay on the city, but she was there for other reasons.
Those reasons were, of course, her solo project. Nothing else. She had nothing else on her mind. She definitely didn't feel her heart flutter every time she saw a curly haired head, only to feel it sink down when she realised that person wasn't Jake. She didn't care about how she missed drinking a beer in a good honest bar, instead of a coffee in a small cosy coffee shop. She didn't mind the fact that she knew some French and wanted to brag about it to Jake.
She was definitely all right. One hundred percent fine.
Except she wasn't. And she was just avoiding her feelings.
She picked up her phone and stared at her lock screen. It was a picture of Jake; a bet he had made about how long she could have him in her phone.
"All right, but only if you put me as your lock screen, as well. And!" A dramatic pause had come. "It has to be a nice picture."
"Okay. But it has to be taken now!"
"Deal."
They had shaken hands. And the bet was still on.
She refused to take the photo off her phone, even after she left in the way she did. Sometimes, she found herself staring at it from time to time, seeing him smile in the dim lights of the bar.
She sighed.
"I have to call him." She says out loud. It was midnight to her, and she didn't know if Jake was already off-duty. She didn't want to disturb him, so she sent him a message online (as to not waste any money, the expenses of international calls were insane).
And then, she waited. And waited. It was 1 AM, and she was still waiting, unable to write anything, constantly looking at her phone to see if something would appear on the notification screen.
Nothing appeared. She didn't expect him to reply, anyway.
Going to bed, she put her phone on the nightstand and sighed. It was going to be a long night.
I wandered over for a closer look,
And kissed whoever was sitting there.
Jake ignored Amy's message, but he didn't do it intentionally. When he woke up to slide his alarm off, he did the movement one too many times and removed the notification off the home screen. You see, his phone had the annoying habit of removing the notifications from the icon and the home screen at the same time, so he forgot to check the social media apps.
It was, of course, a six hour time difference from Paris to New York, so why Jake was only waking up at 7 PM was his and his business alone (he wanted to take a nap, but he knew he'd oversleep so he just set an alarm to before dinner).
Stretching and cracking his back from having slept on the couch (which was surprisingly rough), he took up the simple art form of cooking himself some pizza. That is, takeout pizza.
Calling the number for his favourite pizzeria (Amy thought it was disgusting), he asked the usual (Amy liked pepperoni pizza) and sat back on the couch (Amy had never sat on that couch).
His mind was swamped. Sleeping didn't shake her off.
It was his third day off, and nothing seemed to have changed. Actually, things seemed to have worsened. He stared at his lock screen, Amy's smile in the blackened lights of some random bar they had met at.
It was a nice bet.
"So, what do we have to do if we lose?" He'd asked her.
She had thought for a second. "You have to write a decent police report."
"Do something that both of us can do!"
"I can write a police report for you! I think."
Jake had grinned. "All right then. I'll take that."
Memories kept flooding his mind, unaware of the message resting on his phone, awaiting to read.
She was close, and she held me very tightly,
'Til I asked awfully politely,
"Please, can I call you her name?"
Amy was on a flight to London, braiding her hair nervously.
"Ma'am?" Asked the person sitting next to her. "You're making me kind of nervous, braiding your hair so compulsively like that."
"Really? I'm so sorry." She stopped, embarrassed at her bad habits.
"No, it's okay, I can see that a lot is on your mind."
"Can I talk to you about it? Maybe a stranger's perspective will help me."
The person looked at her, a curious look on their face. In the end, they shrugged. "Sure."
Amy went in a long explanation about what happened, how she had left him in that bar with such an awful thing to say, how she felt guilty and justified at the same time. She told them how she felt about the thing, how she had been travelling for nearly six months and all she had heard from him was radio silence. Even when she had texted him.
"How many times did you text him?"
"Once."
"How long ago?"
Amy counted. "About four months ago."
The stranger nearly spat his water. "Are you kidding?"
"What?"
"No wonder he didn't reply! You only texted him once in two months? He probably thought you were joking, playing with his feelings."
Amy pondered at what they had said. "But I didn't mean it that way."
"At this point, you should know people assume things."
So, maybe this was her fault.
"Are you going back to New York soon?"
"Yeah. This is my second to last flight. I'm just doing a scale here, so I can fly from London to New York."
"Well, try to call him as soon as you land. Maybe, if you explain yourself, he'll understand."
She nodded. A few hours passed, and they both left the plane. Before they parted, the stranger said something else to Amy. Something she feared might be a reality.
"Not to scare you, but he might've moved on."
"What do you mean?"
"Well, you clearly like him."
"Of course I like him. He's my friend."
"Have you thought about that from another angle?"
"What angle?" Amy realised something. "Oh. Oh."
"Be prepared for anything."
They hugged, and Amy went to catch her last flight, dreading what she might expect back home.
And I elongated my lift home,
Yeah, I let him go the long way round.
I smelt your scent on the seatbelt,
And kept my shortcuts to myself.
The past six months had been insane for Jake. He had broken his previous phone, and, as a result, lost all his messages. He was caught up in a big mafia case, only to have Major Crimes pick up the case file when he found the where the boss was located. His precinct had some harsh cuts, and some of his greatest friends from downstairs had to be let go. He had lost some of his passionate drive, making him solve less and less cases, and his paperwork was getting more and more sloppy.
As he was chasing a perp, he got a phone call. He didn't really feel his phone vibrating because he was running (which really made him realise how badly out of shape he was) after a perp. As soon as he reached the precinct, he was getting started on his paperwork, when he nearly had a heart attack at the missed call ID.
'Nerd', it read.
It was Amy. Quickly unlocking his phone, he called her back. The phone rang, and rang, until what seemed like forever, someone picked up.
"Jake?"
"Amy?"
"Oh my God, it's so nice to hear your voice."
"It's nice to hear yours too."
Jake quickly moved to the balcony, so no one could hear their conversation.
"How have you been? You never said anything."
"What are you saying? I texted you."
"No, you didn't. I was worried because you didn't even tell me where you were. Why did you even call me? To brag about how well you were off without me? Or is it something else."
Jake immediately regretted those word and hear only static from the other line. Thinking she might've hung up, he was ready to put his phone away, when he heard her speaking.
"Can we just meet? I want to explain things."
"Yes."
"At the last place we met?"
"Sure. I leave in a couple of hours, so meet you there?"
"Sure."
And they both hung up.
Amy swallowed dryly, Jake stared at the New York landscape.
Something didn't feel right.
I thought I saw you in the Parrot's Beak,
Messing with the smoke alarm.
It was too loud for me to hear her speak,
And she had a broken arm.
The bar they had met the last time was filled to the brim with people. Jake and Amy barely found each other, and they could barely hear themselves. However, as soon as they saw each other, the awkwardness dropped from the air and they hugged. They hugged like old friends do, like something had been missing.
"I've missed you so much!" Amy yelled.
"What?" Jake pointed to his ear.
She just motioned for him to follow her and held out her hand. He grabbed it, and she started moving through the crowd of people.
Soon enough, they were outside, gasping for fresh air.
"Oh man! That was hell inside!" Jake rubbed his ears, trying to get the ringing noise out his head.
"Tell me about it!" Amy was doing the same thing.
They just spent a few minutes near each other, staring at the cars drive by, hoping for the ringing to never fade.
"Want to head to somewhere away from the noise?" Jake asked her, breaking the silence.
"Sure."
It was so close, so close that the walls were wet,
And she wrote out in Letraset,
"No, you can't call me her name".
They ended up driving around in silence, the radio the only thing swimming in the middle of the tension between them. The only time they spoke was when they wanted to change radio stations or pointed out possible places to park the car. None of them seem satisfied with possible places, when a small park came around the corner.
"There." Amy pointed.
Jake parked somewhere near the park, and they both left the car. Ending up in a random bench, they kept quiet, the silence deafening. Both were dreading the conversation that was coming up, but neither made any advancement. It was like holding a finger on the self-destruction button, hoping the sweat rolling down the fingers would press it, and everything would just be an accident.
"So… six months? Where were you all this time?" Jake asked, the most basic question.
"Paris. I was there researching."
"Paris, huh? How was it to deal with Europeans?"
"Trés bien."
"Gesundheit?" Jake looked confused.
"That means 'very well' in French. You know, just some things you pick up here and there."
"Well, I'm glad you managed to learn so much."
A beat.
"I put people in jail." Jake said, nonchalantly.
"Well, that is your job. If you hadn't, that's be kind of a bad deal, no?"
He chuckled, but it wasn't real. "Maybe so."
Amy jumped into the conversation. She was tired of waiting.
"Hey, about what you said before, by the phone."
"What?"
"That I didn't even try to contact you. I did. I sent you a message."
"I didn't receive anything. And maybe sending more than one message wouldn't hurt, would it?"
"Well, maybe if you messaged me."
"Sorry?"
"It's not like you tried very hard to talk to me, anyway."
"You made it pretty clear that you didn't want to talk to me."
"I would never say that."
"It seemed like it."
"Jake." She gripped his shoulders. "I would never tell you off."
His eyes watered. "You just looked so upset."
"I was, but it was mostly the stress talking. I care about you, okay? I really do."
"I…" Jake was at a loss for words.
"Yeah?"
"I care about you, too."
Amy smiled, and Jake smiled back.
"Are you crying?"
"No!" Jake said, wiping his eyes. "My tear ducts are dryer then the desert."
They both laughed. Things were fine, for now.
"You want to hear about the French? God, they're some weird people."
"Sure. But in return, you'll have to hear about a case of mine."
"That's a deal."
They talked until they got tired, glad to finally have the other around.
Tell me, where's your hiding place?
I'm worried I'll forget your face.
They kept in touch. Not a lot, but the promise of talking once per week was delivered. They just wanted to make sure the other person was contactable. Sometimes, Jake would visit Amy by the university, so they had dinner together, and vice-versa, Amy would visit Jake at the precinct. Just so they could remember their faces. After so long without seeing each other, they wanted to remember each other's faces.
One time, Jake was by the university for surprise dinner, and knocked on her door.
"Come in." She said, her voice muffled by the wood.
He stepped inside, only to find her massaging her neck.
"Are you pushing yourself too hard again?"
"Shut up and give me my food, idiot." She stretched her hand.
He put her case in front of her, and started the usual conversations
"How are things going?"
"Tiring." She sighed. "But Teddy's being nice."
"Right."
Amy had a boyfriend for a few months now, and things seemed to be going well for them. When she told him, something in his chest dropped, but he couldn't tell why. It's not like he liked Amy, right?
"Your company is great too, you know?"
"Thank you."
"You don't have to show gratitude, Jake. I'm always here for you. I like to think you're always there for me, too."
Anytime you need me, Jake thought.
"Wow, emotional much?" Jake ended up saying.
Amy chuckled. "Sometimes."
"How's the project advancing?"
"It's going well! The research in Paris helped out a lot. Turns out that talking with pretentious Frenchmen for six months is somehow useful."
"What a bunch of snobs." Jake twisted his nose. "They think they're better than us why? All that gothic architecture and confusing street layout?"
"It is a lot more confusing than here in New York. When I came back, I almost kissed the ground because I was so tired of walking in circles."
"I can't believe the mighty Amy Santiago got lost."
"Look, they gave me an old map. And it was a tourist one, to boot! It had the monuments covering up street names, it was impossible to get around." She sighed. "Also, did you mention gothic architecture?"
Jake scratched his neck. "Maybe I read on the history of Paris?"
Amy was ecstatic. "Did you read about the Notre Dame?"
"I did, actually! That was a lot of fun to read about."
She smiled. "Nerd."
"Hey!"
"Admit it."
"Never, nerd." He put his tongue out, and she threw a napkin at him.
"Sore loser!"
"No, you're just wrong!"
They kept talking like they usually did, ending up in one of their usual spots, a bar halfway between her work and his. They kept talking and talking, ignoring the growing feelings they had for one another.
And I've asked everyone,
I'm beginning to think I imagined you all along.
More time passed. Amy and Jake now had known each other for what felt like forever, and they kept their weekly ritual.
When Amy broke up with Teddy, Jake was there supporting her. When Jake started dating Sophia, Amy stood by him. When it ended with Sophia sourly, she made sure to cheer him up.
Things between the two were the best they'd ever been, even without acknowledging the feelings they held for each other. One day, in their now usual place, Shaw's, Jake let something slip out.
"You know, I liked you."
"What?"
This was in continuation of some conversation they were having, and it morbidly turned on the topic of being alone.
"Yeah. When you were with Teddy, all that time ago? I realised I had feelings for you."
"You clearly moved on." Amy grimaced. "Sorry, that sounded harsh. I just meant, you started dating Sophia, so you probably got over me." She sighed. "Like most people do."
"Hey, Teddy wasn't your fault! He was the most boring person I ever knew."
"Right? I can't believe I dated him for so long. I think the smell of pilsners makes me want to throw up now."
They laughed, and Amy came to realisation.
"Now that you say it, I might've liked you, too."
The buzz of the bar filled the silence between them.
"When?" Jake wondered.
"Probably when you were dating Sophia. But I had just broken up with Teddy, so I wasn't really sure about how I felt."
Jake grinned at her. "Let's make a toast." He lifted his beer.
She lifted hers. "To what?"
"Failed relationships and unknowable crushes."
They clinked the bottles together. "To failed relationships and unknowable crushes!" Amy said, a bit too loudly, giving them a couple of stares.
"Two drink Amy already at it!"
"Shut up."
I elongated my lift home,
Yeah, I let him go the long way round.
I smelt your scent on the seatbelt,
And kept my shortcuts to myself.
Amy was jubilant, yet miserable. She had never felt more confused in her life.
She had finally finished her big solo project, and it was a roaring success in her circle. The university even threw her a fancy party of such a feat, since it was mostly done in secrecy. It was a fancy one, and they could bring plus ones. Obviously, she decided to bring Jake along.
"Is this good?" Jake came out wearing a nice suit, and some cargo shorts.
"Ditch the shorts."
"You want me to go half naked?"
She just shook her head. "Please tell me you have formal pants to this event."
"I don't think so."
"Oh my God." Amy was about to go into overdrive mode.
"Ames! Relax. I'm kidding."
She punched his shoulder. "You idiot! You did this to me once in sophomore year and I hated it back then!"
"You loved me, back then."
Her heart jumped a little. "Wow, low blow."
He grinned. "I can only do these to you." Jake moved to his bedroom to change again.
"You know, that's not exactly nice!"
Now, why was Amy miserable? She'd fallen for Jake Peralta. Hard. And she didn't know what to do with all these bottled up feelings. Often times, she almost said it to him, how she wanted to become more than friends, but she never had the nerve. Mostly because she was almost sure that he didn't like her back. They'd done that once, and it didn't end well.
Jake came out again, this time with the right pants on, and she couldn't help but think of how well he looked.
"Drinking me up with that stare, are you, Santiago?"
"Get your mind out of the gutter, Peralta." She got up. "I'm going to go change now, and you better not peek!"
He put his hands in the air, but added something. "I've seen you naked, though."
"Oh my God, that's embarrassing."
Jake laughed, and Amy followed suit.
I saw your sister in the Cornerstone,
On the phone to the middle man.
When I saw that she was on her own,
I thought she might understand.
The party was filled to the brim with people that were speaking with words that Jake didn't even understand half of the time. Still, Amy was beside him the whole time, speaking with the same intellect he had only read about, all that time ago, before Paris.
They managed to resolve their problems regarding that issue with minimum fighting, talking about how they couldn't trust the other fully and threatening to permanently cut off altogether. They always apologized after things got particularly intense, so they reached a conclusion: no matter how bad it got, they would always meet halfway.
And that's what brings us to the present, with these fools in love with each other, but refusing to admit it. Jake awed about Amy's gracefulness and Amy was surprised at Jake's ease at catching up with her terminology.
Soon enough, they were both apart from the crowd, as everyone had already congratulated Amy on her good job.
"Pop that Chardonnay, baby." Amy said.
"I don't think this is Chardonnay." Jake said, looking at the bottle.
"I really don't care. Talking to all these people just make me exhausted."
"Is it because they're white?"
"Jake, you're white."
"Yeah, but I'm different." He said, in a mocking tone.
"Oh my God." Amy grabbed the bottle from him and popped it open. The loud sound from the cork echoed through the hall, and a general applause was heard. Amy smiled and waved, and then started pouring it on her glass.
"About time we get this party started." Jake said.
Classical music swelled through the hall, and Jake groaned.
"What is this? I want some real songs."
"These are real songs, Jake. It's a waltz, actually. People dance to it."
"Really?"
"Yeah." Amy took a sip of her glass. "To this day, even. It's usually something to get the ballroom started. They usually end concertos."
"Con-what?"
"Like concerts, only for classical music. It's Italian."
"So, you dance to them?" Jake smiled mischievously.
"Oh no, you don't. Now you don't."
"Come on! Give it a shot."
"I have two left feet! It's not happening."
"You won't know until you try it!" He stretched his hand to her.
She groaned and put the glass down. "Fine."
And took his hand.
She was close,
Well, you couldn't get much closer.
Jake knew about Amy's dancing abilities, but they still managed on. Tripping here and there, they managed to join the main attraction on the hall's centre. Swirling around to the sound of the piano keys, Amy's blue dress circling Jake's black blazer.
"Does this ever end?" Jake asked her, after a few minutes of dancing.
"Some waltzes are bigger than others. You just have to deal with it."
She tripped again, and he held her tightly against him, purely out of reflex. Their hearts skipped a beat.
"All this time, and I still fall right into you." Amy sighed.
"If I fell, would you catch me?" Jake asked.
"Of course." She didn't hesitate.
It was all the confirmation they needed.
She said,
"I'm really not supposed to, but yes,"
They swayed from side to side, until the waltz ended. Lingering on the dancefloor, without anything to do, they stared at each other.
"I'm scared." He said.
"Me too."
"What if it doesn't work, again? I can't lose you twice, Ames."
"I don't want to lose you, too. And really, I think that's all we need, right?"
He nodded, and they moved in closer.
Their kiss seemed perfect, with the sound of the violins in the background being the only thing distracting them from the other.
"You can call me anything you want."
They quickly moved in together. The fear of things not working out always remained, but it soon was swayed by the pure friendship-turned-to-love thing they had. It seemed unbreakable.
A year in their relationship, they got married. It wasn't a big ceremony (only their closest friends and family went), but it was enough for them.
"Sometimes, I wonder what would've happened if we stayed together in college." Jake asked Amy, one day.
"Maybe we'd turned out the same. But I like how we are now."
They cozied up to one another.
"Me too."
They put a random movie, and just enjoyed the other's presence.