AN: Yay! People are actually reading this. :-)

24 December, 8:58AM

"You're on time today," Holt bellowed as he stood up straight. He had been leaning against Jake's desk with a watch on his wrist, ready to call him out for being late again. To everyone's surprise, he made it on time, though he was covered in sweat from head to toe and panting like a dog after it had been set loose on a field.

"Thanks," Jake coughed, doubling over to recover his breath.

"I didn't compliment you," the Captain said as a matter-of-factly before he got up and strolled back into his office without another word.

"Typical Holt, am I right?" Jake panted, walking back to his seat. He pulled his chair out and collapsed on it, and Amy looked at him in disgust, crinkling her nose.

"You smell disgusting," she commented. "What the hell have you been doing this morning?"

"Just went to the gym and did one full Terry work-out, no big deal," he lied, shrugging.

"No, you didn't. I was at the gym today and I didn't see you there," Terry called out from where he was sitting, shuffling his paperwork.

Amy looked at Terry, and then back at Jake, twirling a pen between her fingers.

"So?"

"Why do you need to know?" Jake asked, feeling defensive.

"You're right. I don't. And I don't want to know," Amy said, getting up to make herself a coffee. She put down her pen and picked up her mug. Before walking away, she added, "I just wanted you to know that you smell disgusting."

"Message received," Jake said whilst turning on his computer. "And I just want you to know that I still smell better than you do, and I smell better than you ever will, and I-" he stopped talking when he realised Amy wasn't listening, and let out a huge breath. He raised one arm in the air and ever so discreetly, tried to smell his own underarm to see if he really did smell that bad. He was pretty sure he didn't, but he was just checking. To make sure.

"Ew, Jake." Gina called out as she watched him. "Don't smell your armpit. That's disgusting."

"I wasn't smelling my armpit, Gina. Stop stalking me," Jake said.

"I literally sit right in front of you. I don't have a choice," she whined. "I have to see your face full-frontal every time Amy walks off."

"That's a gift," he said. "And let's just say that even if I were smelling my own armpit - which I am not, because that's a hypothetical situation - even if I were smelling my own armpit, I declare that it doesn't smell bad. I smell alright, okay? Maybe not good, but I won't go as far to say I smell bad."

"No, you absolutely do. I can smell you from where I'm sitting and I'm telling you, you need to take a shower before you kill all of us at the precinct with your toxins," she responded. "I can't die, not before I watch tonight's episode of Grey's Anatomy. Hashtag, TGIT. Hashtag, Meredith is my homegirl."

"Okay... I totally know what you're talking about," he murmured, and Gina gave him a weak smile.

"You will never understand me, Jake. I am a majestic creature," she purred. "I was not made to be understood. Now if you'll excuse me, I have to bounce." She got up and walked down the hallway, texting along the way and ignoring Scully when he tried to talk to her. Jake watched until her silhouette has disappeared, and when no one was looking, he tucked his chin into his neck discreetly to check one more time if he really did smell that bad. His head shot up when the scent of his own sweat overpowered him.

Okay, they're right. I do smell disgusting, he thought, furrowing his brows. He could get up and take a shower, and he had an urge to, after receiving comments like Amy and Gina's. But he stood by his decision to just sit around and let the urge pass. To get up and do stuff or to not get up and do stuff? There was no debate. He decided that the latter was obviously the better option of the two. Maybe he would end up killing the whole precinct with his underarm smell, but it's not exactly murder if his colleagues just happened to have sensitive noses, while he just happened to be smelling like a dead animal. Coincidences. They were everywhere.

10:30AM

"Okay," Jake sat Amy down in the break room. He unwrapped the tin foil and the smell of grilled chicken filled the air, causing Amy to recoil. "I'm going to brief you on what you have to bring, and what we'll be doing, and most importantly, my mum."

"Do we really have to do this?" Amy whined, gripping the handle of her mug tightly, her other hand cupping the curved surface.

"Lighten up. It's Christmas Eve. And this is a briefing. You love this kind of stuff. Go get your notebook and a pen," Jake ordered, and Amy went to fetch what he had asked for. She came back with a leather bound notebook and a pen, and Jake raised an eyebrow, impressed. She was taking this seriously.

"So what do I have to bring this weekend?" she asked as she sat down again.

"Okay, first of all, in terms of what you'll be wearing... dresses. My mum loves it when my girlfriends wear dresses," he started, and she stared at him.

"Jake, you do know that you end up dating someone because you happen to love them, right? Not because of what your mum prefers."

"False. I end up dating someone as a result of what my mum thinks. Always. And I don't have a girlfriend anyway. I mean, we're just trying to do a good show here. Put 'dresses' down," he said, and when she didn't budge, he lightened his tone. "Sorry... I kind of get your point, but please put 'dresses' down."

She jotted it down quickly. He leaned over to check that she had written what he had asked her to, and he nodded.

"Good. And... heels. Not higher than four inches but not lower than two inches."

"So three," Amy said, writing down more notes, making scratchy sounds of her pen being dragged across the paper.

"Yeah," he responded. "But only wear them during the actual Christmas dinner. Any other time, you can wear whatever you want... except sandals. My mum hates exposed toes."

She was slightly confused, but she noted it down obediently.

No sandals. Jake's mum hates exposed toes.

"Guess you really want to impress your mum, huh?" Amy asked, chewing the back of her pen as she looked up at him as soon as she was done.

"Obviously."

"You know, you don't have to construct a perfect girlfriend like this. Cheesy as it sounds, she's going to be proud of you no matter what." She said, and shrugged. "Even if you don't turn up with a girlfriend."

Jake gave a non-committal response and continued.

"My mum likes peppermint tea, and she'll expect you to get her a gift the first time you meet her, but don't worry, I won't make you pay for-"

"No, it's fine. It's just tea. I can get it."

"You don't have to-"

"It's just tea, Jake," Amy repeated herself. "Seriously."

"Okay... thanks. That's nice of you."

Peppermint tea. Gift.

"I know."

"Uh, you're not supposed to say 'I know' when someone compliments you."

"So what else?" she asked, ignoring his comment.

"Definitely no suits like the ones you're wearing now... and she likes the outdoors. She has tons of bangles and bracelets - she's a bit of a hippie - and she thinks knitting is a waste of time. But she's also not that into the Internet. She thinks it's stealing our souls from the real world."

No pant suits. Outdoors - love. Bangles and bracelets. Hippie. Hates knitting. Not into the Internet. Thinks it's stealing souls from real world.

"I can't believe she hates knitting," Amy commented, reading her list. "It's so therapeutic. How can anyone possibly hate knitting?"

"No idea," Jake shrugged. "Oh, and she has this theory that the perfect girlfriend for me would be a highly feminine woman who wears dresses all the time-"

"-yeah, you've mentioned that-"

"-and is gentle and knows ballet. She will have read some classics, and she's definitely not into magazines like Guns and Ammo."

Amy's eyes lit up.

"Classics! I've read all of Jane Austen's work. And I've read 'Jane Eyre' thrice - in high school - because I loved it so much," she chirped. "It's on my Top 3. Charlotte Bronte has this way of making it so-"

"Where'd you get so much time? I didn't even have enough to finish my stupid History essays."

"Everyone was at parties and stuff, duh." Amy looked at him like he was stupid. "And... seriously? You were a History student? You don't look like you're very much into... reading. Or writing essays. Or doing anything, for the matter."

"I hated the essays. I used to just type the first paragraph and the last one, and then copy chunks of text off Wikipedia for all the stuff in the middle. Still managed to pull off a 60% at the end of the year."

Amy cringed internally at the thought of getting a 60% on a paper, and Jake snapped back to reality.

"Okay," he said. "No more talking of my stupid high school days. We've not bonded enough for you to know this much."

"Fine."

"My girlfriend is laid-back and likes to surf. It's mandatory that she knows how to follow recipes more complicated than the one about making pancakes."

"This is quite a backwards way of categorising women," she said, jotting down her fake persona. He nodded in agreement.

"Jake's girlfriend does not swear, and doesn't smoke."

"Okay."

Is gentle. Does ballet. Read most of classics. Laid-back. Surfs. Cooks. No swearing, no smoking.

"You know, I'm kind of glad Rosa didn't volunteer to be my pretend girlfriend," Jake thought out loud.

"Your mum would have a heart attack," Amy agreed, laughing lightly. "Anyway, is there any sort of conversation topic I should avoid?"

"Good thinking," he pointed out. "Uh... my dad, obviously."

She wrote that down.

"And using plastic bags instead of bringing your own bag to the supermarket."

"What?"

"Using plastic bags in-"

"No, no. I heard you. My 'what?' was the response," she said, her hand now frantically writing in an unbelievably quick pace.

"I told you. She's a bit obsessed with the environment, so..." he trailed off.

"Anything else?"

"This fake girlfriend will know how to make small talk, and like I said, she is laid-back, so she isn't awkward. She isn't a cop. She's more like a piano teacher, because she has a qualification for Grade 8 piano."

"I know how to play the piano," Amy said suddenly. "I'm not a quitter, but it actually made my mum so miserable that she made me quit after Grade 6."

"How on earth would playing the piano make your mum miserable?"

"I insisted on practising for two and a half hours every day until she couldn't take it anymore," she said bluntly.

Jake boggled. "Two and a half hours? Again, how do you even have so much time on your hands?"

"Oh, no. That wasn't in high school. I was only in middle school then."

"And you were already doing Grade 6 piano? Your parents must've been the kind to push you really hard."

"Again... no," she said, sounding almost sheepish. "I actually asked them for piano lessons. And I played it day and night until I got blisters on my fingers."

"Played it day and night until I got blisters on my fingers - name of your sex tape," he said automatically. "Anyway, that's weird. Because you don't seem like a musical person to me."

"I'm not, and I wasn't then," she agreed honestly. "I just wanted the satisfaction of telling people I was good at playing the piano."

"That's so Amy Santiago," he said, and they both chuckled softly.

"What else?" she asked.

"Huh?"

"About your mum."

"Oh," he blinked. "One more thing: I know you like to have your hair up at work, but try to keep your hair down this weekend. It's more graceful that way."

She jotted his words, scanned her list and let out a flustered sigh. "Wow. Looking at all these targets... I would say I have hit about half of them," she commented under her breath, mumbling to herself. "The other half? Never happening in a million years."

"Yeah, I know," Jake agreed. "That's why you're not my girlfriend. My mum might kill herself if she ever sees you romantically involved with me."

"Well, I do have some of these good qualities."

"But you don't have all of them."

"That's a bit extreme."

"No, I'm being serious," he looked at her square in the eye, and she looked away. "Anyway, meeting adjourned. Holt said we could leave early today so I'm going to go now."

"What?" She looked startled. "What about all the paperwork th-"

"Everyone is leaving early, Ames. Don't worry about it."

She looked unconvinced, but she nodded, closing her notebook and getting up as he did.

"I'll pick you up at 12, and we'll go to the airport. Flight's at 1," Jake said, and Amy was surprised at how organised he seemed for the first time in his life.

Before she could utter an 'okay', he slipped out of the break room. From the open blinds on the window, she could see him throwing in his badge into his duffel bag while whistling, and she watched him leave until the elevator doors closed.

2:30PM

"Jake," Amy whispered, tapping him on the shoulder awkwardly. They were sitting in a cramped aircraft with minimal legroom, and she was squashed in a window seat, while he sat between her and another man, who was reading a book quietly. He was taking a nap and he had made no response, so she tapped him again, this time a little more urgently. "Jake. Peralta. Jake Peralta," she hissed, poking at him until he twitched and opened his eyes.

"Mm- what?" he murmured, still half asleep, groggy.

"I need to use the toilet," she whispered, gesturing for him to put his legs up so she could get out. "Scoot."

He tucked his knees into his arms and she slid out into the aisle with her cosmetic bag in one hand, heading to the toilet located at the end of the plane. She went into a cubicle, locked the door, and looked at her own reflection in the mirror. She felt funny, slightly disoriented, but mostly just nervous. She would be spending four days somewhere completely foreign - she had never been to Nebraska - and she would be doing that with people she barely knew. She wasn't sure she was ready for a challenge like that.

She washed her face and her make-up off gently, and looked at herself in the mirror again. Bare-faced Amy was tired and underprepared, reflecting how she felt on the inside. But she needed to put on a good show. She didn't want to let anyone down, and Jake was right - it was Christmas Eve after all. After moments of self-doubt, she redid her makeup quickly, drawing in her eyeliner and opting for a light pink lipstick. Taking out a comb, she sorted out any uneven tangles and tucked her hair behind her ears. When she was done, she looked at herself and took a deep breath, then grinned as wide as she could.

"Stop worrying, Amy Santiago. You're going to have fun. So much fun. And you're going to do a good job."

4:45PM

"We're nearly there," Jake told Amy from the backseat of a cab. Her heart was beating so fast it felt like it could break out of her chest. Why was she so nervous? It wasn't like they were really dating, and it wasn't like she was ever going to see Jake's mum again after these four days. It shouldn't matter, but somehow, it mattered a lot. She needed to put on a convincing show because she needed to be capable. She needed to be in control of herself.

"Can we have one more quick run-through?" she squeaked, feeling worried. Her voice was coming out funny.

"We've had like five run-throughs on the plane," he said, looking at her.

"But maybe we didn't cover all the situations... like, what if your mum suddenly decides that she doesn't like peppermint tea anymore and she yells at me? Quick, throw me a scenario."

"No, Amy. She's never going to stop loving peppermint tea. Relax! It's just the few of us there. We're super chill. You're getting so worked up over nothing," he said, but she looked frightened still. "Seriously. You're going to be okay," he reassured her once more. He put his hand on hers and squeezed, and for the first time, she let him, not flicking it away or looking at him in disgust.

"Okay," she said. She wasn't sold on the whole idea, still, but she did feel slightly better. She looked at him suspiciously. "Why are you being so nice to me, Peralta?"

"Because you're helping me out big time by lying to my mum about me being romantically successful," he said.

5:15PM

"Jake, you stay in your room, and Amy... I'm sorry, I didn't know he was going to be bringing a girlfriend this year - he never does," Julie chuckled warmly. "You don't mind staying in Jake's room, do you?" she looked at Amy cheekily, and she smiled back awkwardly.

After a warm round of introductions, they were carrying their bags upstairs, and to Amy's surprise, there were only three rooms, and no guest bedroom. There wasn't an attic either, and according to Jake, the basement was filled with spiders and 'creepy things'.

"I uh-"

"The walls are thick, so you kids can do whatever you want," she laughed, and Jake felt like he had just been punched in the throat.

"Mum!"

"Oh Jake, we're all grown-ups here. I'm pretty sure you guys do sleep together. And Amy is so gorgeous! I don't think there's any reason for you not to tap that. I'd tap that if I were you."

"Mum, this is totally inappropriate, and I kind of need you to stop talking and leave now," Jake said, and Amy slid him a glance, to which he responded with an eye-roll.

"Yeah, yeah... I'm going to go back downstairs. Your sister called earlier on. She's going to arrive in an hour." Julie said, dropping their bags and waving a hand dismissively. "You kids figure this out, okay? And maybe unpack a bit of whatever you've brought. Supper is at 7 so you've got some time. I'll talk to you later."

"Okay, mum."

"It was a pleasure to meet you, by the way," Julie said to Amy, and Amy smiled.

"Pleasure's all mine."

Julie nodded, and they watched as she disappeared down the stairs. They exchanged a look. He held his breath, and she burst out laughing after a moment of lingering silence.

"Wow," Amy said, raising an eyebrow, and he nodded, as if to say 'I know'. "Your mum's... she's really something."

"Tell me about it. And... I'm sorry. It's just always so awkward when she's around because she's mentally stuck in high school, and she makes all these inappropriate jokes," Jake said apologetically, and she looked at him.

"She's fun. I can see where you got your personality from," she commented, and he huffed.

"Yeah... right. Fun, okay. I can live with that." Jake said. "It's just... honestly, if she makes you uncomfortable or anything, you should tell me because I swear, this you see?" he gestured at himself. "The inappropriateness of this is only a fraction of the inappropriateness of that. She has a lot of fuel in her. Seriously. I love her, but the woman just never stops. And sometimes she crosses lines. She nearly scared my sister's boyfriend away the first time they met."

"What happened?"

"She basically told him all about how she wants five grandkids in seven years, and how she wants them to live next to her. She was completely joking, but he was already so nervous because he was meeting her for the first time, he just freaked out."

"Oh, wow."

"Yeah. He found out about it later on but we still laugh about it. So if my mum ever tells you she wants five grandkids in seven years and all of that, just know that she's joking. She did it to my sister's first boyfriend, my high school girlfriend, and she basically will do it to anyone she meets. Don't let that freak you out."

"To be entirely truthful... I don't think any of this will be a problem," Amy said, and he cocked his head sideways, wondering what she meant by that. She looked up to meet his eyes, and grinning, she picked up her small suitcase. "I think she's awesome."