I don't own Brooklyn Nine-Nine.

I wonder if Terry does steroids. Jake thought, looking around the bullpen at the sergeant who was standing talking to Boyle at his desk. The man is at least seven times the size of Boyle… Boyle.

Boyle was wrong. Jake argued with himself, for what seemed like the millionth time since his friend had dropped that particular truth bomb. It seemed like he had to do reassurances of this fact every time anything close to that specific event came close to his mine.

You pulled girls pigtails because it was easy and fun. He affirmed. Moving his gaze down to the mountain of paper work that he had yet to fill out.

Jesus, the Vance case, god he thought that must have been done in early January. That was bad even for him, to be three weeks late on paper work processing.

He wanted to be a cop, so he could kick ass and be awesome, not so that he could describe crime scenes, and evidence and whatever else you were supposed to put on them, the date?

UGH, Jake thought looking up to see Santiago looking at him.

"Oh Santiago I know I ooze masculinity and you can't help but look. Want me to strike a pose?" he said to his partner, who looked ready to burst with frustration.

Job well done sir, Jake congratulated himself. See Boyle, I enjoy watching her jaw tense and her eyes narrow; it's fun. He was satisfied for the time being, the little bit of joy he got from bothering the straight laced detective, gave him the drive to finish his paper work for the first week of January.

Looking back up at his partner, maybe I should make it a game. Two points if you make her roll her eyes, bonus if she hits you. This thought process continued in lieu of paper work.

~99~

"Oh Santiago I know I ooze masculinity and you can't help but look. Want me to strike a pose?" Jake said with the self-assured smile, the one Amy had come to know far too well in their two-year partnership.

This cannot be happening. She thought clenching her jaw and narrowing her eyes in what she hoped to be a severely pissed off look to her partner.

She liked an idiot. If she was anyone else, she would have probably flirted with him for that comment, then her train of thought stopped honing in on one part.

FLIRT WITH PERALTA ON PURPOSE. She was trying not to hyperventilate at the notion of thinking of ways to flirt with her partner.

She put her head down and continued with her paper work. Maybe if she buried herself in documents she wouldn't get a chance to think of the man-child sitting at his desk six feet away.

I realized that just giving you readers one chapter wasn't enough, and I know this is short(so was the first), and if people would like me to continue, Just let me know, and I will write longer chapters, and such. thanks for reading

~C