Inspired by a picture Andy posted not so long ago. The day after Jake's bachelor's party – and actually day of his wedding with Amy.

Ain't No Party Like a Bachelor's Party With You

On the morning of the 15th of May, actual day of her wedding, Amy Santiago woke up to 15 missed phone calls and 46 new text messages – all of them sent during the previous night, and from one same person: her future husband, the one and only Jake Peralta.

She'd be lying if she'd say she didn't freak out when she first saw them. She was sure something went wrong at his bachelor's party – there was no other possible explanation. He wouldn't have bothered trying to reach her otherwise, too caught up in having fun with his friends on this last night as a non-married man to think about doing so, and knowing she would be busy with her own party as well anyway. She knew inviting Pimento wasn't a good idea. She liked the guy, that wasn't the problem – he just always seemed to bring any sort of problems with him when he was around, despite his original good intentions. She still remembered how his own bachelor's party turned out. So, in her mind, all of this didn't predict anything good.

But then she unlocked her phone, and all her worries disappeared in a blink when she scrolled up all of the 46 messages, and read the very first one, accompanied by a selfie of Adrian, Charles and himself, all three of them rather well-dressed, and sent not long after the couple parted ways until they'd be reunited on the aisle the day after. She felt her heart soften just as she read the words he wrote afterwards:

Let's the party begin! Wish you were here too, tho. Love you. Have fun, babe!

She remained like this, with her gaze stuck on his face for a little while, watching his smiley face staring back at her, and one rictus of her own spreading across her lips. They'd been separated for a few hours only, but she still missed him. Missed his presence by her side on this bed of theirs.

She didn't let the thought linger too much on her mind and therefore affect her mood, though – soon enough they would be reunited, and would never have to wake – and simply be either, for that matters – without the other ever again. Because when they'd be reunited, it would be to officially be pronounced husband and wife.

(To think that it all started with them not wanting to put labels on their relationship.)

(To think that it all started with them faking an engagement as well.)

(It was all very real, this time.)

With this new, happier thought, she started reading the other texts he left her. They were all pretty much about the same topics, she quickly noticed. Indeed, in each and every one of the 45 of them, he either let her know about 1) how much he loved her, 2) how happy he was that they were getting married, 3) how much fun he was having (though not as much as if she were here too, he seemed to repeat that a lot), or 4) how much he missed her. She couldn't help but laugh throughout her whole discovery of the messages, heart beating fast with love for this man who was to become hers forever soon, and actually being able to recognise all the different stages of his drunkenness by the way his writing abilities decreased with each new declarations.

Hopefully for her, she'd become fluent in drunk-Jake-Peralta language over the years by his side, and so could (somehow) easily decipher him.

There were some other selfies he sent as well – in one of them, for instance, he was showing a glass of champagne, as if toasting, with the words it's 00:00 – were gettin married tday! followed by a whole bunch of different emojis – most of them being heart-eyes ones, though.

Finally, in the last one, he was lying in bed, all by himself, and pouting at the camera, wearing a sad expression on his face. It saddened her a bit, too, seeing him like this. But soon she found her good spirits again when she read the remaining four messages that went with the picture:

Room's spinning

Can you make the workd stop turnin?

Stupid traditions...Miss ya.

Goodnighttt future mrs peralta;;

And, just as she was about to now listen to the voice messages he seemed to have left her every time he called and she didn't answer, someone actually called her on the phone, and a smile showed up on her face again when a picture of her fiancé and her they took right after he popped the question those seven months ago already appeared on her screen as he was the one calling.

"Hi babe!" he cheerfully greeted her when she picked up. "How're you doing? Had fun last night?"

"I am, and it was, great," she excitedly replied, both happy to hear his voice and remembering the wonderful party her friends had thrown for her – it had been all she'd dreamed of, and more. "How was yours?" she then went on – even though she kind of already knew the answer to that, thanks to his texts that had summarised his whole night to her as it went.

"So good," he let out without having to think about it first. He quickly added after a short pause, though, "But I'm sure it would have been better with you too."

"Yeah, I figured that from all of your messages I woke up to," Amy said with a tender giggle. "I missed you a lot too," she confessed after a few seconds of silence.

"Good. Because there won't be any getting read of me after today," he joked, and she could feel his warm smile in his words – he didn't seem one bit ashamed of what he'd done.

They chatted for a bit after that, telling each other about their night apart and checking on some last minute preparations they both had to do, until they had to get prepared themselves if they didn't want to be late for the big moment. Before hanging up, though, Jake called out his future wife one last time.

"Hey, and Amy?" he asked.

"Hmmm?"

"We're getting married today!" his voice sounded like it still amazed him so much that this was true, and not just a wonderful dream he'd been having all along.

"We're getting married today," she repeated his words in agreement, her heart skipping a beat as realisation hit her hard. After years of relationship, and months of working this wedding out… it was finally happening – for realz.