Jake learns about Amy's claustrophobia the hard way.
It's a Tuesday morning, almost a year after she arrived at the Nine-Nine, and for the first time since that day, they're taking the elevator up to their bullpen together – usually when he comes in, she's already well seated at her desk and reading over some paperwork, or patiently waiting for their morning briefing to start in said briefing room.
But for some bizarre reason, today Jake is on time at work – and even early. He should have known then, the minute he opened his eyes wide awake almost an hour before his alarm was supposed to go off and unable to go back to sleep despite his several attempts, that something would go wrong during his morning.
(Though, in hindsight, wrong turned out pretty well in the end.)
"Hold the elevator, please!" A voice calls as the doors are about to close before him, and Jake quickly pushes the button to prevent the engine from leaving. He watches as Amy rushes inside then, thanking him between two heavy breaths, having run not to miss the elevator before she eventually looks up at him.
"Peralta?" she exclaims, recognising her colleague, and frowns in confusion. "What are you doing here?"
Clearly, she didn't expect to see him in there.
"Same thing as I've done for the past years: going to work," he jokingly answers – which makes her roll her eyes, not amused.
"No, I mean – what are you doing here now? It's not even 9 yet. I don't think I ever saw you arrive on time at work once since I'm here, and it's almost been a year."
"I know, it's quite impressive, huh?" Jake simply grins in return, feeling proud of himself, when it was obvious from Amy's tone she was judging him.
She sighs, defeated. She chooses to ignore his remark and not to reply with anything of her own. The ride up their bullpen is silent for a while then, with the two detectives standing next to each other in complete, somewhat awkward silence, eyes stuck in front of themselves and never exchanging even a glance once.
That is, until the elevator suddenly makes a strange, creaking noise followed by an uneven movement of the engine. While Jake doesn't seem too much disturbed, the woman instinctively comes and reaches for the first thing she can hold onto: his arm, squeezing hard on his bicep, startled by the unexpected move.
"Outch," he lets out in pain as he turns to face his colleague before letting his gaze fall on her fingers on him.
There's something about the way her hand curls around his arm, her knuckles starting to turn white with the hard pressure she exercises on his muscle, that weirdly turns him on, the pain not being as unbearable as he thought, but he quickly locks this thought deep inside his mind, never to think of again.
(To think of years later, when he finds himself in bed with that woman he once only saw as a slightly annoying colleague and turned into the love of his life.)
"Relax," he mocks her when he looks back up at her, meeting with wide-open, scared brown eyes. She immediately loosens her grip at his word, as if coming back from a trance and only now realising her move, and offers him a small apologetic smile in return. "It's super old – it does that all the time. Nothing to worry about."
He shrugs, but that explanation doesn't calm Amy down. Especially because, just a few seconds later, the sound happens again, and this time the elevator stops altogether.
"Is this something we shouldn't worry about either?" she asks, truly panicking this time – her voice hits a pitch higher than usual as she speaks –, though she still manages to restrain herself last minute from grabbing his arm again.
"I don't know," Jake acknowledges. Something shifts in her eyes as she stares at him, so he quickly adds, "But I'm sure we'll be fine, and it'll work again soon."
With that comment, he pushes the button to their floor once more, hoping it will make it move back up, but one second of waiting quickly turns into twenty and nothing happens. He then tries the emergency button to let someone know there are people stuck in there and get some help, but again, no one on the other end of the line picks up.
"Damn, just when I was going to be early!" he tries to crack a joke, which doesn't amuse his colleague. On the contrary, when he takes a deeper look at her, who hasn't said another word since her question right after the engine stopped, he notices she looks terrified, breathing loudly and shortly with her eyes fixed on the doors.
"I –… I can't stay in here…" She eventually speaks, though it's barely a whisper. Her statement sounds very final too, and more like saying her thoughts out loud than actually talking to the man standing next to her.
"Why? Nothing bad will happen if we're late, y'know. Technically, we're not even late, since we're already in the building," Jake teases her again – the only way he knows and can think of reaction right now, never having had to deal with this side of the usually strong and competitive Amy before –, but it still fails at making her at least smile.
"What?" The female detective finally turns around and watches him with her brows furrowed. It's clear she wasn't listening to him before, so caught up in her trance, she almost forgot she wasn't alone in there. His colleague carefully studies her. He doesn't understand what she's so upset – more like scared, even – about.
They're just stuck in an elevator, after all. It can happen to everyone. For sure someone will come and help them soon.
"Are you okay?" His voice is softer when he asks her.
Amy takes a deep breath, closing her eyes for a second to try and regain some composure before she locks them with his again. "Sorry, I'm just… very claustrophobic. Being stuck in there makes me freak out."
"Oh."
There's not a hint of amusement left in Jake's tone now, only concern. "Is there… something I can do to help?" he kindly offers before he adds, unable to keep the comment for himself, "Other than giving you my arm to crush, if possible." This time, though, the woman lets out a small, light chuckle, heart warming a little in her chest.
She didn't know her always-teasing (mostly her, it seemed, and this from not long after their first encounter), often childish colleague had a soft, caring spot in him. Too bad she's too close to a panic attack to be able to completely linger into it and appreciate it as she should.
"Sorry about that too," she apologises, meaning it. She then lets herself fall to the floor and looks up at him, taking his offer. "Can you… sit with me, please?"
Jake obliges immediately, taking a seat by her side, though making sure he leaves enough space between their bodies so that she wouldn't feel too oppressed – thankfully the elevator is big enough for them not to have to squeeze too close next to one another.
They remain silent at first, the male detective waiting for his colleague to lead the conversation as she wants to while Amy tries to even her breathing.
"You must think I'm stupid," she sighs after a while, her gaze lowered towards the floor, unable to meet his own. She doesn't like being seen as vulnerable like this, especially from this partner she's in a constant competition with, she who always tries to prove she's tough.
"Why?" Jake seems confused.
"Because of this. Me freaking out over us being stuck in an elevator. That's ridiculous, I know."
"Well, you're the one who saw me run away when I saw that bee turning around us the other day – that's ridiculous," the man laughs as an attempt to cheer her up – which it does since she looks up and smiles at him. "I mean, we all have fears," he goes on with his explanation. "That doesn't make you less of a badass. You're still the same cop who took a murderer down last week after you chased him down nine stairs. That was pretty dope."
Amy's smile grows wider, softer, as she fondly looks at her colleague. She really likes this new side of him he's letting show this morning, in the intimacy of this elevator.
"Thanks, Jake." It's not often she calls him by his first name, but right now, as they truly connect for the first time, she feels like he deserves it.
After that they keep chatting for a while, with Jake trying to distract her and make her forget where they are, sharing stories about their lives and attempting at making her laugh. Amy quickly understands that his voice and tales calm her down, feeling her anxiety attack cool down in her chest, concentrating on learning more about this man.
They couldn't tell how long they remain there, but eventually, without a warning, the elevator makes another sound and starts working again, startling the both of them, who were stuck deep in a conversation, arguing over some silly thing. On instinct, Amy reaches for Jake's hand, squeezing it between her own.
"Sorry," she quickly lets go of it when she realises her gesture, cheeks turning red in shamefulness.
"Don't be," the male detective reassures her with a gentle beam and, when he's back on his feet, offers her his hand again for her to grab. She takes it and stands up as well just before the doors open at their floor, and they find themselves face-to-face with the man who was probably in charge of repairing it as well as the rest of their squad.
When their colleagues ask them of what happened, and Charles's gaze curiously and suspiciously switches from one to the other, Amy's sure that Jake will blur it all out, sharing her fear with everyone in the room now that she doesn't feel oppressed anymore and he can mock her without feeling too bad about it.
It's too good an occasion for him to pass on, she thinks.
But, to much of her surprise, he doesn't, simply relaying the facts as they were, joking about his own condition. "The world wasn't ready for me to arrive early at work, it seems."
That's why, when the attention is drawn away from them and they're back at their desks, she watches him from behind her computer and smiles softly. "Thank you," she tells him and doesn't have to say more for him to understand what it's about. He only nods in return before putting his gaze back on his screen.
He can't help but add with a grin, though, not bothering to look back at her. "Don't think that means I won't bring that up again between us any chance I get, though."
She only lets out a chuckle at this – there's the man she knows.
(And truly appreciates, deep down.)