Disclaimer: I own nothing but the plot of this story. Everything else belongs to the big guys upstairs.

A/N: I would like to start with a big resounding thank you to all who read, reviewed, favourited, and subscribed to this story and to my stuff in general! You are all wonderful and I appreciate the support so, so much :). Thanks to that, I decided to try my hand at fulfilling the request for a companion/follow-up. Some is the same story from a swapped perspective (and I hope the view was unique from the original), and some is a couple extra in between moments before the end of the first chapter. I hope you all enjoy :)

Jake Peralta wasn't a planner. His partner was the planner.

It should have come as no surprise, then, that the day he arrived back at the 99, she was planning.

They had been informed of his imminent return, but he wasn't due to start his shifts for another week. While he would have relished the welcome back celebration he was certain would be waiting for him on the day if his scheduled return, he was looking forward even more to the opportunity to surprise them. He knew they must have missed him desperately at this point, so he decided to take pity on them all and grace everyone with presence early.

Let it never be said Jake Peralta wasn't merciful.

He got a welcome back when he signed in, but it was busy enough in the bullpen that no one really took notice when he casually entered. The captain was in his office filling out paperwork, Boyle was in the break room, Scully and Hitchcock were doing whatever it was they usually did, Rosa and Terry were nowhere to be seen, and Amy was hunched over her desk with the phone to her ear. Gina was actually the first to see him, and her eyes immediately lit up, but a quick fingers to the lips silenced her. He began to tip toe towards Amy, keeping eye contact with Gina as he did. She didn't look as amused as he thought she would.

In fact she looked a little worried.

He didn't let it deter him as he approached Amy's desk. He was nearly right on top of her when he stopped dead at the sight on her desk.

It wasn't paperwork.

Six months prior, Jake Peralta had been "fired" from the NYPD. In the same breath, he'd been recruited by the FBI for an undercover operation. It was everything he'd ever dreamed about as a kid. This was the action movie-type scenario he had been dying for.

Of course, it also meant the smearing of his reputation as a detective, and six months away from the people who were essentially his family.

The reputation could be restored when the epic tale of his involvement in an undercover assignment for the FBI could finally be told.

But the lack of contact with his friends was going to hurt.

Especially with one.

The absence of his friends was not something that hit him until after he said goodbye. And by goodbye, it meant a quick "I'll miss you, guys" followed by the opportunity to make the second biggest theatrical display of the day, wherein, he screamed bizarre obscenities that made little to no sense but got the point across.

When it sunk in that that was all he was really going to get, it occurred to him that it simply was not good enough.

Not for her.

Okay, so initially he wasn't going to do it. Jake didn't do emotions. But with the adrenaline from the day still coursing through his veins, and because it gave him just enough courage, he decided it needed to be said. He couldn't go forward with this assignment until it was off his chest.

As soon as the words were out of his mouth, he ran.

And was gone.

For six months.

Six months seems like plenty of time to move on. But there is a difference between moving on and distracting yourself.

Jake was certain he had moved on.

Then he saw he bridal magazines.

Amy never realized he was there. She'd been too distracted by her angry whispered phone call to a hotel she was attempting to book for her upcoming wedding.

Jake sent an alarmed look to Gina, who cocked her head and shot him a sympathetic half-smile.

He disappeared before anyone else noticed.

When he returned a week later, there was a welcome back banner and a cheering crowd. Boyle practically tackled him, and the subsequent attention from everyone else was pretty much as he'd anticipated.

He played it cool, he was proud to say, when he officially received news of her engagement. He reacted exactly as he would have pre-admission, cracking a joke at her expense while still congratulatory in nature, and it seemed he had her fooled. They were silently agreeing to pretend it never happened.

The months that followed were agony.

Much like he had done before his time undercover, Jake threw himself into work. What little time he had leftover was spent dating various women. It served as a distraction for himself, as well as keeping up appearances for anyone who might be observing.

That worked for maybe 3 of the 5 months he had to sit by and watch her plan her nuptials.

Who was he kidding; it worked for none of it.

The most irritating part Jake realized - and it was likely because of his raging jealousy since the guy was frustratingly nice so obviously he must have been reading too much into it - was how compliant Teddy was. Any time he stopped by the precinct and Amy would ask for his opinion on something, the dude would just grin and exclaim how much he loved what she'd done. How boring is that? And seriously, red and white? Really?!

The day Gina approached Jake and told him she'd been asked to be a bridesmaid, he bit the inside of his cheek to stop himself from calling her a Benedict Arnold without hearing her out. She was torn over the decision, but had ultimately accepted. Jake couldn't really fault her that, he knew. After all, he was pretending he had moved on long ago and had even gone so far as to impart some of his former best man wisdom on Amy when she'd hit a couple road blocks. It would have looked suspicious if he'd insisted Gina back out.

It was also comforting when Gina confided that she mostly accepted because one of Teddy's groomsman was particularly... Well, there were a few descriptive words in there Jake wanted to forget.

As the day approached, the list that had started off being, like, a thousand miles long was progressively getting shorter. It didn't seem to matter to Amy. She was on edge and she would be until the entire ordeal was over.

He felt bad for her. He might have been bad with emotions, but Jake knew your wedding was supposed to be the happiest day of your life... Or whatever.

The Saturday of Amy Santiago's wedding was grey and damp. It seemed appropriate.

Jake had done as he was asked and rented a tux for the event. It was soooooper formal, which didn't surprise him. The whole thing was in some shmancy hotel that Jake knew was not her first choice, but that's what you get for planning a wedding in Brooklyn when you only have six months so ha!

After a few James Bond poses in the mirror, he decided he looked downright amazing.

Didn't make him ready to watch her marry another man, but at least he looked good not being ready.

Why he'd decided to torture himself and attend, he'd never know. Jake was the king of excuses. He could have backed out at any moment with a case or a plumbing problem or the death of a triplet, something! But instead he had arrived, not only on time, but with time to spare.

(Who shows up early to their own execution?)

He caught up to the girls outside the ballroom. They looked very bridesmaid-y.

Great. They looked great.

What possessed him to ask which room number Amy was in would remain a mystery. What possessed Rosa to tell him would remain an even bigger one.

When Jake stepped into the elevator, it was with the express purpose of wishing his partner luck. He felt... things... for her, and he wanted her to be happy. She was his friend. And that's what you do. Wish the bride luck on her wedding day.

When Jake stepped out of the elevator, it was with the express purpose of telling his partner how he felt. He was in love with her. He wanted her to be more than a friend. And that's what you do. Convince the bride she should be with you instead and to run away with you on her wedding day.

He'd approached the door and with a deep breath, he raised his hand and knocked.

He heard a shuffle, so he knocked again, calling out, "Amy Santiago!"

He heard footsteps and then she was talking through the door. "What are you doing here, Jake? The ceremony starts in ten minutes. You kind of have somewhere to be."

And then he couldn't do it.

She sounded happy.

And she looked...

Well, she was never going to look like that for him.

An exchange followed in typical Peralta/Santiago fashion. They bantered, he threw in a sex tape joke, complimented her, and then ran like the enormous coward he was.

(That seemed to be becoming a bit of a trend.)

It was for the best. He couldn't ruin another good thing for her. Not something this huge. He wanted her to be happy. He really, truly did.

Not that it didn't kill him the moment she found him in the crowd of many and just stared until it was physically impossible to any longer.

He couldn't watch after that. He kept his head down as that lucky, pilsner-loving bastard started droning off his lovey dovey crap. Damn it, his vows were romantic though, if you're into that Nicholas Sparks, kissing in the rain, dancing under the moonlight, my heart will go on, and all that jazz.

(Wow, that took a dark turn on the last two. Not that he would have minded at that moment if Teddy was frozen in the ocean or gunned down by a crazed ex. But that was just the raging jealousy talking.)

But then a miracle happened, or at least, he would come to consider it one in the future.

In a mind-blowing moment he could only compare to the day Amy Santiago disagreed with Captain Holt, the words "I can't do this" were carried through the speakers in the hall.

His head snapped up as the audience gasped and he knew he hadn't imagined it. She reiterated her thoughts in more specific words and then the sound cut out. It was all rushed whispers after that.

Damn it, he should have gone to that lip reading coarse with that adorable little keener after all.

Amy was trying to remain calm, but truthfully she was terrified. Her body felt like it was vibrating from all the anxious energy brewing inside her. She hadn't anticipated this. She hadn't planned for this. She'd been too busy looking at every tiny detail to actually see the big picture.

"Teddy, you are wonderful, and I really care about you," she began, but was immediately cut off.

"Then why are you doing this, honey? We love each other. You were so excited to get married."

Amy looked away, her eyes burning with the threat of tears. "Maybe I was at first, but I was focused on a wedding, Teddy. Not what our marriage would entail."

That seemed to baffle him even more. "I - what does that mean? I don't understand."

"Would our wedding be what our whole life would be? Me making decisions and you always agreeing?"

"Of course. I love you. I want to make you happy."

She sighed. "I know you do. But it can't always be like this. We make great friends, Teddy. We have so much in common. But we make lousy partners. I shouldn't have to make all the decisions and you shouldn't always want to go with them. It'll get old very fast and we'll start resenting each other and I don't want that. Not for you. You're too good."

"No, I don't buy that. Is there someone else? Is it Jake? I see how you look at him sometimes."

She felt her entire body flush and she glanced around at their wedding party to see if they had heard the question. Everyone looked painfully awkward with the exception of Gina, of course, who already had her phone out. "What? No, this isn't about Jake. Or anyone."

"Please, Amy," he said, an edge to his voice and tears brimming at the corners of his eyes, "just tell me the truth."

Amy froze and discovered, to horror, she didn't have an answer for him. She knew with 100% certainty that the reasons she gave him were the truth. But she'd never counted someone else and the possibility of feelings for that someone else into the equation before. She said the only thing she could say. "I'm sorry, Teddy. I'm so, so sorry." She didn't leave him time to say anything else. Instead she turned and made a beeline for the nearest exit, well aware of the sobs she heard behind her.

Amy didn't exactly know what to do after that. She knew she needed to clear out before the guests started to leave, but if she took time to pack her things, she'd definitely run into them. Instead she went straight to her room, pulled out the key card she had concealed in the top of her dress, grabbed her purse, and booked it. She could ask someone to gather her things later.

She didn't want to go home yet. People might try to find her there. So she hailed a cab and gave the first address she could think of.

The bullpen was as busy as expected for a Saturday evening. She garnered more than a few questioning looks from the weekend crew but they knew better than to actually voice them. This was an office full of detectives. If they couldn't put two and two together from looking at her, they were in the wrong profession.

Her desk was occupied, but she wasn't really in the mood to actually work, though, the distraction would have been nice. Feeling a little exposed both emotionally and physically, she went to the locker room and dug around in her own looking for a sweater or something. When she couldn't find one, she went for the next best thing.

Glancing around the room to see if anyone was watching, she spun the combination into the lock of the one that belonged to her partner. He teased her for her predictability the day she found him breaking into hers. He never stopped to think that maybe she could figure his out just as easily. She found what she was looking for in the form of a dark grey hoodie. She slipped it on and relished in the warmth of it.

She took a deep breath to steady her nerves and catching his scent was unavoidable. It was comforting. Hot on the heels of that feeling was one of alarm and she was drawn back to her conversation with Teddy at the alter. No. There was no way that she should have experienced that when she could smell him. That was madness.

No. It was probably the fact that despite his inability to keep his work area or home or car clean, he did look after himself. It was a familiar scent, and it was the familiarity of it that she was comforted by.

Not the fact that it smelled damn good.

That, she'd decided, was something to compartmentalize. She could address that bizarre experience another day. Today she'd chalk it up to the flood of emotions she was currently overwhelmed by.

She took refuge in the evidence lockup, certain no one would bother her there while she tried to catch her breath. It took her a long time to work up the courage to pull her phone from her purse. Sure enough, when she finally did, there were dozens of missed calls and text messages. Some from Teddy, some from her parents, her friend Kylie, and none from him.

She decided to ignore the fact that she found that disappointing.

Her voicemail was full of weepy messages from Teddy, flustered exclamations from her mother, a much more rational message from her father inquiring after her welfare and if there was anything she needed - she knew deep down her father wasn't sure of her decision to marry Teddy but he wanted his only daughter happy - and a quick message from Rosa. That one surprised her.

"You did the right thing. Teddy was lame and you were unhappy. We're going to the bar. Kay, bye."

Amy frowned, wondering if absolutely everyone around her thought the same thing about Teddy. If that was the case, why hadn't anyone told her? Probably because they knew how easily her confidence could be shaken and how quickly she would try to overcompensate, and no one wanted to be responsible for that.

The mention of the bar was suddenly very appealing. She wasn't necessarily up for human interaction, but she was up for getting blissfully trashed, and the thought of doing that at home was troublesome. Firstly, because she was already pathetic enough as it was, and secondly because it was still too risky to return home. She needed to kill at least a few more hours before she was sure no one would be waiting for her.

Shaw's was swamped with her co-workers. She half-expected everyone to stop dead and stare at her, much like everyone had back at the precinct. Holt saw her first and when they made eye contact, he merely sat back in his chair and subtly cocked his head. She hoped her returning look conveyed the appreciation she felt. Amy had already let down enough people. Letting down the captain would have killed her.

She successfully hoisted herself onto a bar stood - wow, was the dress ever annoying - with little to no other acknowledgment of her presence. After that she wasted no time. She hastily downed a shot, relishing in the burn, and was suddenly grateful of her empty stomach. Another drink followed and the world seemed a little shinier.

When Jake took the seat beside her, she half-expected him to be a jackass. But he just sat there quietly, sipping water. She decided then to slow her drinking. She didn't want to get sloppy and say something she might regret. He was being great, and she didn't want to ruin that. God forbid she hurt another decent guy that day.

When she finally slid off her stool, Jake stood as well, settled her tab, and walked her in the direction of his car. He opened the door for her, helped gather the obnoxious amount of crinoline that gave the bottom of her skirt it's flair and shoved it into the car with her. He helped her to her door. He helped her out of her ridiculous dress. He was a perfect gentleman about all of it.

And he stayed a gentleman through the conversation that neither of them were prepared to have.

When Jake left her house that night, he was in a daze. He had started his day knowing the woman he loved was planning to marry another man. He ended it knowing the woman he loved did not marry that man.

And that there was a chance she could love him back.

Jake Peralta wasn't a planner. His partner was a planner.

But his partner was learning to relinquish control.

They day they realized they were living together was the day Amy was leaving work and Jake had to stay late to finish some paperwork for a case. He was sitting at his desk and she touched his shoulder briefly as she walked passed.

"Can you pick up some milk?" was all she'd said.

"Sure. C'ya at home," was all he'd said.

With those brief, inconsequential sentences, it dawned on them that they'd stopped asking whose place they were going to that night, and they couldn't even remember when. Jake was just always at Amy's and Amy's house was not just Amy's house, it was their house. Almost all of Jake's essentials and even the nonessentials had ended up in what was now their accidentally shared residence.

"Actually," Jake choked, "now that I think about it, I've still got a lot of stuff to finish up here. I'll probably be pretty late and I don't want to disturb you. I think I'll just go back to my place and crash. That cool or -?"

"No! I mean, that's totally cool," Amy jumped in, waving the comment away with forced casualty. "I'm pretty tired anyway. I'll just see you tomorrow."

"Awesome," he responded, his smile tight.

"Awesome. Bye, Peralta."

They both tried to hide their cringes at her choice of address. She turned and made a swift exit.

"Awesome," he mumbled again, before slamming his head on his desk with a groan.

Jake was miserable and there was no other way to describe it. He had panicked and potentially just ruined the most important relationship in his life. She was freaking out too. He saw it. What if she realized how serious they were and she wasn't ready and decided she wanted out? She had no issues with him going back to his own apartment. In fact, she seemed quite eager at the prospect.

"Damn it," Jake groaned for the millionth time since leaving work. "Well done, idiot. You managed to Britta this up real good." Damn it, he was missing Community. By now he and Amy would have been sprawled on the couch marathoning whatever show was their latest shared obsession on Netflix. "Not important, Jake. Damn it."

He stopped at the store on his way home, keenly aware of the fact that there would be nothing in his cupboards and fridge but stale cereal and spoilt milk. He grabbed a six pack for good measure.

Imagine Jake's surprise when he turned the key and discovered a young man sitting on his couch in his boxers.

"Oh, hey, bro," the young man said to a dumbfounded Jake. He got to his feet and made his way over with his hand extended. "You must be Jake."

"Um, hello, stranger. Mind telling me why you're in my apartment."

"Ms. Linetti didn't tell you?"

"Ms. Linetti? She makes you call her - wait, what the hell is going on?"

"Ms. Linetti rented this place to me. She said you were on sabbatical in Thailand and wouldn't be home until the end of June. She called a few minutes ago to let me know you came back to settle up some of your affairs and put the rest of your stuff in storage because you were gonna extend your stay. That's wild, bro. What's Thailand like?"

"Muggy. Will you excuse me, kind stranger. I need to make a call," he growled through gritted teeth.

"No worries, bro. Call me Rooster."

"I will not," he replied, slamming the door as he left. He saw red as he hit the speed dial on Gina's number.

He heard the click of her picking up. "I know what you're going to -"

"Thailand, Gina?! Really?! How did you think you could possibly get away with this?"

"Easy. Rooster is a student who works graveyards. Even if you went home, the chances of you running into him were one in a million."

"How long, Gina?" She stayed quiet. "Gina! How long?"

"Four months."

There were a slew of words Jake would later wince at having said that followed. "You've been taking my rent cheques for the last four months."

"And I appreciate your contributions to the hardwood floors in my apartment."

"Gina!"

"Slow your roll, cupcake. I'm only kidding. It's your credit company that thanks you."

"Are you telling me you've been taking my rent money and paying my bills with it?"

"Your mail is still delivered to Nana's apartment. Did you think they were magically paying themselves?"

"Actually, yes. I got a consolidation loan and the payments come out automatically. It's all very grown up."

"Minimum payments are all well and good for keeping the collectors at bay, Jakey-boy. But if you and Amy are thinking of getting a place together, your credit score needs to be a lot better than negative 300."

"We're not getting a place together. We already have one. Apparently." Then a thought hit him and he slapped himself in the forehead. "Damn it. You know this means I've been freeloading off Santiago all this time, right?"

"And now the two of you can move out of that retirement home and start contributing to a place equally."

"Amy's never going to go for that. You should have seen her face. She was freaking out."

"Jake, I've been renting your apartment out for four months. You and Santiago are living together. Now you can say it's official."

"I hate that you get to be right even when you are super wrong." He sighed and rubbed the back of his neck. "Alright. Wish me luck, crazy."

When he showed up on Amy's doorstep with a box tucked under one arm, she threw her arms around his neck, exclaiming in a relieved rush, "Oh, thank God."

"I like the open concept," Jake remarked, taking a few steps around the apartment.

"Lots of natural light," Amy added. "Love the exposed brick."

"I've always kinda dug the urban, factory conversion loft thing."

Amy crossed her arms and hummed thoughtfully. "It definitely needs some renovations. Have you looked in the bathroom?"

"Could be kinda cool to customize our home together."

Amy scoffed. "The way you customized our Ikea dresser?"

"I didn't see you doing any better." He put his hands in his pockets as he took another sweeping look at the apartment. "I could definitely picture us here."

A dreamy smile crossed her mouth as she took another look around herself. "Yeah, me too."

"Babe, I think we found our new apartment!" Jake exclaimed, grabbing Amy's hands as they started to jump.

"Hey, idiots!" a voice snapped.

They stopped jumping and whipped their heads to the source.

Rosa fixed them with an unimpressed glare while several officers stared at the couple, completely dumbfounded. "Dead body, remember?"

Amy and Jake jumped apart. "Right", "our bad", "sorry, sorry", and a few other embarrassed mumbles overlapped from the pair.

"But seriously, guys, how awesome is this place?" Jake got a swift swat to the chest from Amy for that.

It turns out it can be pretty easy to get a place when a murder happened in it.

There you have it friends :) thank you all again. I always enjoy hearing from you lovely people but please, no flames. I'm sensitive and I'd like to stay that way.