She would say it was just a normal thing on her part, the fact that lately she was trying to work on cases that were drug related. Crime was crime and they were supposed to fight it all.

Only, if she wanted to be honest with herself, something she refused to do unless she was alone, at home, two glasses of wine in her system, she would have to admit she was hoping.

There were plenty of petty drug dealers in Brooklyn. Not many families of suppliers, though. The big bosses couldn't be more than 4 or 5. They were the ones taking care of any unwanted competition.

So maybe interrogating Petey for 4 hours had been unnecessary and useless, and the kid had come out of it so scared it was a good chance he would try to find a real job once he got out of jail… but maybe he would've been the one able to point his finger at a bigger fish. And then that fish would point at a bigger one. And then at another. Until that fish's name would be Inaucci and she, Amy, would have enough proof to help Jake finish this thing.

Rosa seemed to have read Amy's mind. Or maybe she was as eager to have his old academy partner back, too. They never discussed it, and Amy was grateful to be working with somebody that wouldn't ask questions and would be as willing as she was to do just one extra late night stalk out, or to infiltrate yet another suspicious looking bar.

But it was proving to be a difficult task. There was a reason the FBI had wanted somebody inside. Just to task some detectives had proven to not be enough and that stung for entirely different reasons.

And yet she had had a tip off, so small and stupid she hadn't bothered Rosa with it. She would tell her in the morning, after doing yet another reconnaissance solo mission, and it would probably be that there was a new bar to eliminate from the list.

One of the things about being a woman, and this was one of the very few things Rosa was very vocal about, was that it was not always easy to enter a bar alone. Nobody would try to hit on a guy sulking over a beer but try that while being a woman. 'You should smile more, honey.' Fuckers.

Instead of going inside, Amy chose to enter a 24 hour café right across the street. It was by no means nicer, or probably cleaner, but the chances of being approached by a stranger willing to give her 'the time of her life' were fewer. The owner gave her a couple of dirty looks when he realised she was not planning on going away any time soon, but other than that, she was reasonably safe and with a good view to the entrance of the bar.

Groups of people, mostly men, went in and out. Some of the few girls that joined them were dressed to kill, and even though Amy didn't want to make any assumptions, her job had taught her enough to guess that at least some of those girls were paid by the hour.

One hour went by, then another, accompanied by a second cup of coffee she bought just to appease the owner. And then another group came, walking up the street, laughing and looking as carefree as the previous patrons.

Her heart seemed to stop before Amy's brain realised what it was that made this particular group so interesting.

She couldn't be sure. Not when the man had a hood covering most of his head. But she had seen that leather jacket thousands of times. She recognised the way the guy patted one of the other men in the back, and the way his body moved as if he was laughing. From the distance, there was no way to be sure, and she knew she didn't need to. She was after the boss, not Jake, and it had been a coincidence in the making just bumping into him if she was investigating drugs.

Ignoring the annoying voice that was telling her she had to admit this was what she had been hoping for all along, she drank the rest of the lukewarm coffee and stepped on the street.

Now what?

She had enough information to discuss with Rosa the next morning. This was a bar that would not be scratched from the list any time soon, and they needed a strategy to try to gather some information from it. There was no need for her, Amy, to do anything now. She just needed to go home before somebody would think she was acting suspicious, walking on her own in a less-than-nice street at eleven in the evening. And yet her steps seemed to have plans of their own because she was crossing the street and the door of the bar appeared closer and closer-

The loud honk of a taxi nearby startled her back to her senses. With a loud sigh, she turned to the side and walked in the direction of the nearest subway station.

It was cold, and there was just another person waiting for the train. For a moment she considered just taking a taxi, but she couldn't make up her mind. Had the man been Jake? Had she actually been just feet from him?

A couple of people climbed down the stairs of the station and Amy barely glanced at them, more interested in wondering how long the train would take.

"D'you have change?"

For a second time that night, her heart seemed to stop altogether.

The voice that had called from a distance was unmistakably his.

Slowly, she turned around. Jake was still wearing his hood, and looking almost as if he had just left the precinct. The other man was younger, wearing a sports jacket and smoking carelessly. For a second she didn't speak, as her brain worked full speed to urge her to make the right move.

"You talking to me?" she managed to ask, giving her voice a weary ring.

"Yeah," Jake said, taking a couple steps in her direction, a crumpled bill on his hand. "Do you have change?" he repeated.

She grunted. "Maybe."

"Can you help a guy?"

Rolling her eyes, and at the same time noticing that Jake's companion had his eyes on his phone, paying absolutely zero attention to them, she opened her bag. Trying to take some time in case Jake was planning something, she rummaged inside for a while until she produced 4 quarters.

"Here," she said drily. Now he was closer. Close enough for her to give him the coins and for him to linger maybe a second too long when placing the one dollar bill on her open palm.

Her eyes met his, and maybe it were the lights of the common train, but she could've sworn he winked at her.

"Thanks, doll," he said with a cheeky smile, and then he and his companion were climbing on the train. Amy did as well, almost as if in a trance.

She wanted to look to her left, where she knew Jake and the man were laughing at something he was showing on his phone, but she dared not. Instead, she focused on her own reflection on the darkened window, and on how her chest ached and her eyes were filling up with tears. Taking steady breaths, she stood up at the next stop. It wasn't hers but she needed to be careful.

Making sure Jake and the man were still inside the train, she went outside, ready to take the long walk home. Her lungs definitely needed a lot of fresh air.