Sometimes Amy would get random texts from online operators at very random hours. Invariably every time she would either chuckle or get very warm in the face.

The best ones were those she would get on the phone hidden inside her apartment, but sometimes the text would even reach her regular phone.

You wouldn't believe how unpopular Die Hard is amongst certain people.

NutriBoom boom boom. I know it's lame. Shut up.

Is it ok if I dream about your hips? I promise it's completely innocent.

There was no way to reply to those messages and even though she missed him, she was also glad because she had no clue of what to answer. Especially to the last one.

And then, two weeks after the club incident, he called her again.

"I am out of town," he announced as a greeting, "on my own," he added.

"Nice," she said. "Exotic Nebraska?"

"You wish. So what's up?"

"I am actually pretty happy."

"How come?"

"Holt called me to his office today and hinted that they got some intel about a certain somebody that might maybe perhaps finish a long term assignment sooner than expected."

"Oh, news travels fast, I see."

"I know you can't say anything. I just wanted you to know I'm happy."

"Which, in turn, makes me happy."

She chuckled.

"So, Santiago… about that dress…"

"What dress?"

"The one you were wearing the other night."

"I was undercover," she started defensively. "I needed to look- Wait. What about it?"

"I think I love it."

"Oh." Her heart made several crazy jumps. "You didn't look that bad yourself."

"It was the golden chain, was it?"

"Despite that," she snorted.

"Oh. Thanks, you're making me blush."

"Shut up."

"No, really. You were very… distracting that night."

Amy chuckled, both self conscious and a little proud. The images of that night seemed to be etched inside her brain. Even though it had been painful to leave him again, it was the kiss, or rather the kisses, and the way his hands wandered on her body, what stood clearer.

She took a large sip of the beer she had opened the moment she got home. Maybe she could try something.

"So, what are you wearing right now?"

At the other side of the line Jake gasped. "Are you serious?"

"I'm curious."

"That fake innocent tone won't fool me."

"You're taking a lot of time to answer a simple question. Am I to assume you're naked?"

"What? Nooo… I," he sighed and Amy suppressed a chuckle. "I am in my underwear. And wearing a t-shirt."

"Briefs or boxers?"

"Boxers, obviously. What kind of crazy person wears briefs?"

"Uh, you? Pretty tight ones, pink and purple. I think Gina has a picture on her instagram account."

"I'll let you know, that was a speedo. Also I'm going to do us a favour and ignore that comment."

"Fair enough," Amy gave a little cough. "Boxers then. Colour?"

"Black boxers. Grey t-shirt."

"Oooh."

"What about you?"

Amy looked down at her worn down pyjamas and, for a moment, she considered lying. But then she remembered this was Jake.

"Faded NYPD t-shirt," she started.

"A classic."

"And a flannel bottom with bunnies."

"Sexy," he said, humming appreciatively. "And under that?"

Amy shifted on the couch, feeling both excited and a little scared. "Nothing."

"Ugh, Santiago! Why are you so mean to me?"

"Am I though?"

"Very mean. Cruel. The worst."

"Is it because of the bunnies?"

"It is absolutely because of the bunnies and not at all because whatever is underneath them."

"Good."

"Good."

She cleared her throat. "So, about that t-shirt…"

"T-shirt's gone, Santiago. I was feeling kind of hot."

"Huh."

"Yeah. So, where are your hands?" He was catching up very quickly and suddenly the little awkwardness that was left seemed to evaporate.

"I am holding a beer, but now I'm thinking I should leave it on the table. And, you know…" she trailed off.

"I don't know…" his voice sounded hoarse, with an intensity Amy had only heard once, as he was yelling things into her ear inside a loud club. "Tell me."

"You tell me, what do you want me to do?"

"Breasts," he said. "Touch your breasts."

"Ok. Slowly? Fast?"

"What do you like?"

"Slowly first," she started doing it, and it was so easy to imagine him right next to her, as he whispered things on the phone. Then it was her turn to issue instructions, and if she felt weird at first saying words she was not used to saying, and naming parts of his body she never thought she would, it was all gone as she started touching herself in earnest, while listening to him do the same.

When she found her release, she bit a pillow and for a moment she almost forgot he was still on the phone. It had fallen on the floor and she scrambled on weak legs to retrieve it.

"You there?" he was asking.

"Yeah," she said, collapsing back on the couch. "You?"

"Yeah…" he grunted and Amy thought he was shifting, too. "That was… what was that?"

Amy chuckled. "I have no idea. I've never done this before."

"Neither have I," he sighed deeply. "It was… whoa."

"Whoa."

He chuckled. "I miss you so much," he said after a moment.

"I miss you too, Jake."

"Listen, Ames."

"Yeah?"

"When I get back…"

"Yeah?"

"Would you go out with me?"

Her heart jumped, and she thought for a second how strange it was for her to feel so excited about a first date with a man she had kissed more than once, not to mention everything else.

"Yeah."

"Cool. Cool."

"Where will you take me?"

He chuckled. "I don't know. I was thinking about this club I know-"

"Please, don't!"

"I'm fond of it,"

"I'm not."

"Ok, ok, what about somewhere quiet? A place where we can both sit on the same side of a booth and share fries?"

"That sounds perfect."

"I know."

She closed her eyes and sighed.

"Are you falling asleep, Ames?"

"Mhm."

"Do you want me to hang up?"

"Don't you dare."

"Ok."

"Ok."

When she woke up, several hours later, the phone was silent but there was a new message. Sleep tight.