Chapter 2: Rubik's Cube – Jake

Jake brushed against the dry skin along his index finger and realized his hands were cold. The chilly, waterless air had left his exposed hands vulnerable to drying and cracking. He wished for lotion, but pride kept him from asking Amy if she had any. In general, he tried not to ask favors from her. He tried not to ask Amy anything, actually.

Jake stared out his car window at the coffee shop she had disappeared into and hoped the line was long. He needed a breather. Being thrown together with Amy again was…hard. He put a hand to his chest unconsciously and rubbed the spot of pain that cropped up whenever he thought of Amy too much. What made it that much harder was that it was so easy. It was like they never stopped talking. As if no time had passed. What was the point of all the long routes to avoid her, all the times he imagined empty space occupying her desk, all the times he commanded his heart to slow when she walked by, if he still felt the same?

He thought of her bright, brown eyes and haughty smile. He felt a pressure on his chest and tried to soothe it with his hand. He sighed. Had he made any progress at all? Or was he just as in love with the woman as before? The lips that were normally curled in a constant smile tugged downwards and he brought his hand up to cover them.

This was all Holt's fault. Jake had explained everything to him. Jake thought he understood. He certainly seemed to, at least.

Jake was early. Way earlier than he'd ever been to work before. Normally, Jake slept in as late as he possibly could, but there was no way he could have slept last night anyway. Plus, he needed to be the first one in the office so he could see Holt immediately, but he probably wouldn't be coming for another thirty minutes and the silent office offered Jake no solitude from yesterday's developments. Jake sat at his desk and played with his Rubik's cube.

A terrible thought entered his mind. What if Amy got here really early too? She showed up early all the time. Amy would rather be trampled by a stampede of rhinos that had just run through a pile of their own feces than be late. Bumping into her seemed likely. He didn't know if he could handle being alone with her after he had just rejected her.

"Rejected her" he thought and put down the toy. His torso slump forward, but his head was caught in his hands, elbows resting on his thighs.

"Rejected her" echoed his mind, "I rejected Amy Santiago"

Regret and loss filled him. In one night he had realized he was full-on- hearts-and-roses in love with her, but also a huge danger to her that needed to be kept far away. For years, he had been pining. Ever since he first met her, he was drawn to her, like the jelly-side of a piece of toast was drawn to the ground. Even if he denied it, Jake always knew he wanted to be more than just partners with his partner. All he ever wanted was her and she had come to him, told him she wanted to be with him, kissed him, made it clear, but he pushed her away.

"Why?" he asked himself for the thousandth time, but he inevitably remembered nearly getting her killed because he was more concerned with her than the job. The Job. That was it, wasn't it? How could they affectively work together and be in a relationship? Wouldn't he constantly be pulling her aside for secret kisses and forgetting about the lead? Would he start babying her in the field because he couldn't deal with her getting hurt? A light bulb illuminated in his head.

He was afraid. He was afraid of loving her more than he did, but he still ached to be with her, to kiss her every time he saw her, to wake up beside her: the whole cliché-riddled nine yards. The only other option was leaving the 99 and the thought of that made his stomach drop. He didn't want to leave them and he was pretty sure Amy would feel guilty if he left. What kind of start to a relationship was that? No, this was the best course of action.

After Jake agonized by himself for twenty minutes, the elevator doors opened and his captain stepped out of it. Jake stood up and flattened the material of his pants against his upper thighs—a nervous tick he recently realized he had.

Captain Holt approached him and Jake noticed some confusion shining through his usual blank face.

"Peralta?" Holt greeted as he approached him.

"Morning, Captain"

"Good morning. Why are you so early? You're never early" Holt said, suspicion creeping into his tone.

"Well sir, I want to be a better detective! Get stuff done by the books. Can't do that if I'm late all the time!" Jake said with a cheeky smile. Holt stared on at him.

"I actually really wanted to talk to you about something. It's kinda important" Jake said.

"Oh, I see. Well, let's go to my office" Holt said as he gestured to it. Jake complied and sat down in the chair across Holt's desk. Holt followed, closed the door behind him, and sat at his desk.

"Is everything okay, Peralta?" he asked and Jake wondered if Holt was concerned. He knew Holt wasn't going to understand, but he needed to do it anyway. Jake pulled out a piece of paper from his messenger bag and held it out to his captain.

"Yeah, yeah, I, uh, just wanted to give you this" Jake said and he realized his hands were shaking. Holt took the paper and read it over. When he realized what it was, the captain froze, and slowly looked up at Jake. A new ache burned in Jake's chest.

"Peralta, this is a new partner request form" he said finally, as if he wasn't sure Jake knew what it was.

"Yes, sir, it is" Jake said, trying his best to sound assured and confident.

"Peralta, you're going to have to explain this to me because I, for the life of me, can't understand why you'd want to stop being partners with Santiago" Holt said, his eyes boring into Jake's soul. Jake took a deep breath and prayed for courage.

"Uh, well, the 'why' part is complicated-"

"Peralta, you and Santiago have one of the largest combined arrest records in the entirety of the NYPD—a fact I know you're well aware of because you were bragging about it to the entire precinct a week ago. What makes you think I'm going to actually follow through with this request?" Holt asked. Jake needed to be direct.

"Sir, I think Santiago and I's relationship has become…unprofessional"

"You're usually unprofessional. Don't drag Santiago into that" Holt said. Maybe he needed to be even more direct.

"No, I mean my feelings for Santiago have become unprofessional" Jake said, hoping this would get the message across.

"I don't understand" Holt said simply and Jake pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration. Jake was going to have to spell it out for him, wasn't he?

"Captain, I'm in love with Amy Santiago and I think it would impede our work if we continued to be partners" Jake said, his cheeks getting hot. He had never said it out loud before and the terrible consequence of having outside ears hear it was that it made it irreversible. There was no more lying to himself. Now that he said it to Holt, it was absolutely true. He loved her.

His confession had the desired effect because Holt sat back with visible shock on his face.

"Oh. Oh. I see. Yes, I can see your concern" Holt said and Jake nodded.

"Yeah"

"Is this a recent development?" Holt asked. Jake wasn't sure he wanted to talk about this anymore.

"I've always had a crush, but things kind of…escalated after the assignment"

"Oh"

"Yeah" Jake said, looking down at the ground.

"Have you told her?" Holt asked so gently that it made Jake snap his head up. Holt was talking to him now, not as a boss would to his employee, but almost as a father would to his son. Jake blinked back the water that glossed his eyes and shook his head.

"No, no. We've, uh, talked a bit about us, but I haven't told her that, no"

"Oh" Holt said and then fell into silence. Jake assumed he was deep in thought because it felt like hours before he spoke again.

"I'll push this request through right away. Santiago called off today. She's bedridden with a cold. By the time she gets back, you'll already be paired with another detective. Is she aware of the request?"

"She is"

"Good"

"Well, thank you, Captain. I'm gonna start on my case files. They've been piling up" Jake said as he stood up.

"Of course, and Jake?" Holt asked. Jake turned around, surprised to be called by his first name.

"Yeah?"

"Take it easy, okay?"

"Yes, sir" Jake replied and stepped out of the office. A sinking feeling gripped him as he left. He blamed it on the small part of his heart he left with the piece of paper on Holt's desk. It was done.

Three months later and he had done a good job of keeping up his normal 99 routine. He solved cases (by not involving Hitchcock in anyway), he goofed around with Boyle, and he poked fun at Holt. The only difference was that he had to completely work his way around Amy. He didn't look at her, he didn't speak to her, and he made sure never to be alone with her. Cutting her out had made him realize that one of the biggest reasons he wanted to stay at the 99 was because she was there. It wasn't much fun pretending she wasn't.

It didn't change that being partners again would be difficult. Jake had come to terms with the fact that if he didn't get over her in three months of ignoring her, then he probably wouldn't get over her in the ensuing months of being close to her. Jake mentally cursed. Why did Holt have to put them back together? It was just going to make it harder. Not to mention the hurt Jake felt at Holt disregarding their moment after he had divulged all.

Jake's thoughts were cut short when he saw Amy coming out of the coffee shop with two cups in her hands. He opened the door for her and she slid in. She handed him his cup and put on her seat belt.

"Thanks" he said, straining to keep his tone casual.

"No problem. Okay, so what next?" she asked in regards to the case. Jake had almost forgotten.

"Oh, um, well I think we should go back to the precinct and see what evidence we have on the first victim. Let's see if we can get a suspect pool going. Make an-"

"Evidence board?!" Amy asked gleefully. Jake forgot how much she loved organizing them.

"Yes, Amy, an evidence board" he confirmed. This made her squeak and clap her hands together.

"C'mon Peralta, put the pedal to the metal" she said, attempting an odd surfer accent in her excitement. Jake scrunched up his face and shook his head, but did as he was told.

Were they staring? Yeah, they were definitely staring. The precinct seemed to quiet as soon as Jake and Amy had stepped off the elevator.

"Jake! Amy" Boyle greeted, a huge grin eclipsing his face.

"Hey, Charles" Jake answered, weary of Boyle's comments.

"So," Boyle started as he gestured to the two of them, "how's it hangin'?"

"Good, Boyle" Amy said, an edge to her voice.

"So, anything, uh new with you two?" he asked, digging for gold. Jake and Amy looked at each other and both started chiming in "No"s and "Not Really"s.

"Oh, so you haven't reconnected with someone recently and realized you were broken without them and the only way to be whole again is to be with that person forever?" Boyle asked.

"Nope. Bye, Charles" Jake said promptly as he swerved past Boyle to the evidence lock-up. Amy followed suit.

The lock-up was mercifully empty. Jake did not need any whispers or looks in their direction, especially after that little bit of Charles-shtick. He made a b-line for the "V" section and found a single manila envelope on Preston Vice. He brought it to a table in the center of the room for them to look at.

"Is this it?" Amy said as she grabbed the envelope and turned side-to-side. Jake grabbed it back from her.

"There was no physical evidence at either crime scenes, what did you expect?" Jake asked.

"More than an envelope" she confessed. Jake shrugged and opened its contents. It really was slim-pickings. There were plenty of pictures from the crime scene and autopsy, but nothing they didn't know. The body was much like the second victim. He was posed and painted as a G.I. Joe doll with an intricately built set to go with him.

"Hey look, here's something on the victim. 'Vice, Preston: 28, male. Officer in the military, deployed to Afghanistan twice. His parents died in a car crash when he was 19. No siblings. Single'" Amy reported.

"Great, so he has no one surviving him? That'll make our interviews pretty quick" Jake said, frustrated.

"Guess we know why we've only got an envelope" Amy mused.

"Yeah, I'm willing to bet this wasn't a happy accident for our killer. He's probably going after loners. I wouldn't be surprised if the ballerina was the same" Jake said. Amy nodded.

"There had to be someone he was close to that we can question. We should check with neighbors and fellow soldiers in his unit. Plus, G.I. Joe was a soldier, which means the second victim was probably a dancer. It's not nothing"

"Yeah, you're right. We'll get a lot from the autopsy too" Jake said as he examined a picture of the bullet wound.

"Yeah" Amy agreed as she gathered the evidence back into the envelope, eager to get to her board.

Jake sat on top of a table in the conference room and stared at the little evidence they had so far. Jake didn't like to be a pessimist, but he was pretty sure the killer would kill again before they even had a lead.

Amy was carefully taping a picture to the board and Jake thought to himself about how shiny her hair was. She wrote a caption for the photo and his eyes locked on her hands. A memory of those hands tangled in his hair forced its way into his head.

"Guh!" he shouted, surprised by the sudden potency of the memory. Amy turned around in alarm.

"What?!" she aked.

"No, sorry. It's nothing, there was just a spider on my hand. Sorry" Jake said quickly.

"Oh" she said and went back to her board. Jake let out a breath he was holding. He was starting to stare at her again. Perfect.

Relief came to him quickly, however. His phone vibrated with the name Henry Farris illuminating it. Jake answered without missing a beat.

"What's up, doc?" Jake asked.

"I've finished the autopsy. There are some things I'd like you to see" Dr. Farris replied.

"We'll be right there" Jake said and hung up the phone.

"Autopsy?" Amy asked.

"Autopsy"

Jake had never been too fond of crime labs, especially the part of crime labs that held a bunch of dead bodies in a wall. Amy had no such reservations.

He looked over at Amy who was joyfully looking at what seemed to be a series of photos depicting an axe-murder scene.

"Boy, I'd love to get my hands on this case. Murderer took all of the victims left calves. Just whacked it right off at the knee, then cut off the foot and put the foot back. I mean, who does that?" Amy asked, still far too excited about it.

"Aw, I missed you Ames" Jake said.

"You what?" Amy asked, her demeanor getting a bit more serious.

"Nothing, just mumbling to myself" Jake said, a little appalled by his slip. He was trying his best to keep her at arm's length and little sentiments like that didn't help.

"Oh, okay" she said and put her attention back on the grizzly scene.

Jake stared at her back and indulged in it. How long had he seen more than a glimpse of her? It was too easy to drink the sight of her in.

"I don't know if I can do this" he thought. Her presence was too overwhelming after fasting for so long. How could he focus when he had an excuse to look at her?

"Ah, detectives, it's good to see you again" said a voice from behind them. Jake turned around and saw Dr. Farris coming in through the lab door.

"Hey, Doc" Jake greeted, grateful for the distraction from his thoughts.

"If you follow me this way, please" Dr. Farris said as he lead them to an examining table with a body covered by a scrub-blue sheet. The doctor pulled back the sheet to reveal the ballerina.

"We got a positive ID from dental records and New York DMV that the victim was one Kelly Fieldson. She was a student at New York Uinversity's Tisch School of the Arts studying dance. Twenty-years-old. Single" Dr. Farris said. Amy and Jake quickly took out their notepads and jotted down her specs.

"Did you figure out the cause of death?" Amy asked.

"Well, yes and no. I was right about poison, but I'm not sure what the poison was. I sent her blood to Bloodwork so I should get the results in a couple of days. Whatever it was, the scarring in her throat suggests it made her vomit. She had muscle paralysis and respiratory failure, which, of course, led to her death. She suffocated and it kept the outside of her body spotless. I can only assume that was his goal"

"Any guess on what the poison was?" Jake asked.

"Some sort of plant. I found traces of leaves, but because they were masticated, I couldn't look it up"

"How about the paint?" Amy questioned further.

"A sample has been sent to forensics. They're breaking it down by ingredient for you. I'm guessing it was homemade. He definitely didn't purchase it at Home Depot. The paint stays on her skin without blemish and it didn't want to come off when I was cleaning the body"

"Was there any bruising or distress wounds?" Jake asked.

"Nope, nothing. She was left in pristine condition"

"Well…at least we have a name" Jake said, slightly disappointed. He looked over Kelly's face. She was pretty and very young. A wave of sadness washed over him. Tisch was so hard to get into. She must have been crazy talented. He sighed.

A loud set of pings disrupted his thought process and he looked up to see Amy answering her cell phone.

"Sir? Crap…yes. Yes, he's with me. We'll head over immediately. Yes. Thanks. Bye" Amy said. She put the phone back in her pocket and turned to Jake. He knew something was wrong. Her shoulders had dropped and her face fell.

"What? What is it?" Jake asked.

"They found another body" Amy said.

"Crap"

AN: This chapter is so long jfc. Alright here ya go. Pining Jake af.

So fun fact: The Toy Box Killer is based loosely off Zsasz from the Batman comics and Arkham games.

I'm having too much fun writing the crime parts s2s.

Thanks for all your support! I always read and reply to comments and they are very, very appreciated. Hope you guys liked this chapter!