"Boyle, drive faster."

"I can't, Jake. It's rush hour. Amy is fine. She's only at the hospital for observation."

"Don't make me baton you in the knee. Put the siren on and pedal to metal, Charles."

Charles complied, but only because Jake looked like he might be serious about the baton.

Jake wrung his hands nervously, twisting his wedding band around his finger mindlessly. His mind wandered.

The call came in an hour ago. Jake had been out on a case with Boyle, and Amy was working a case with Rosa. Rosa called the precinct to let them know that Amy narrowly avoided being shot in a drug bust gone bad, and was on her way to the hospital. Jake received a call from Sgt. Jeffords, and all he could hear was "shot" and "hospital." It took one Medical Examiner on scene, three Crime Scene Investigators, and one slap across the face courtesy of Boyle to snap Jake out of his enraged panic. (The slap hurt. Boyle was stronger than he looked). When Jake realized she had NOT been shot, he calmed down a little, but dragged Boyle out to the car, with the directive to "drive. Now."

Amy, his Amy, his wife, lover, his…everything, if he was being honest, was lying in a hospital bed, and there was nothing Jake could do. He felt so helpless. Jake leaned against the window and looked out onto the streets of Brooklyn, searing heat radiating off of the concrete on this hot summer day.

Amy sat up in her hospital bed, Rosa by her side.

"Jake is going to flip out."

"Yup," said Rosa, smirk tickling the corner of her mouth.

Amy twisted her wedding ring around on her finger, and thought back to the past few hours. She had made a huge mistake, and it almost cost her dearly. She was pissed at herself.

Amy was secondary to Rosa. They were tracking the perp along the waterfront by the Navy Yard. Amy isn't quite sure what happened. Maybe she let her guard down. Maybe her mind wandered. Whatever it was, Amy suddenly found herself staring down the barrel of a gun. She yelled at the perp to drop his weapon, and instead, he fired. Amy managed to dive headfirst into a pile of garbage (what is it with her and garbage?), the bullet ricocheting off of an abandoned car. Rosa tackled the perp to the ground and cuffed him, his gun sliding across the concrete. Amy realized she was bruised, but otherwise okay. Rosa ran over, and called an ambulance, because Amy had a nasty gash on her arm, and bumped her head, a big knot forming. Amy insisted she was fine, but Rosa, despite her bad-ass-ness, still followed protocol. The ambulance arrived, and Rosa called the precinct. The drive to the hospital was tense. Rosa received a call from Boyle that Jake was "flipping the hell out, and I had to slap him." That made Rosa laugh. Amy, through her pain, also found the ridiculousness of the scene incredibly amusing.

So here she was, 3 stitches in her arm, welt on her head (and a black eye, great) waiting for her darling husband to arrive.

Amy wondered if they would have to admit him for observation.

Jake raced to the nursing station. (He had jumped out of the car before Boyle had even stopped it completely, yelling, "Amy! I'm here!" to no one in particular and running like a madman. Security had tried to stop him, but he flashed his badge and they backed off.) He ran up the stairs, because the elevator would have taken a minute too long. "I'm here for Amy Peral-Amy Santiago," he wheezed out, bending forward to catch his breath. "I'm her husband."

The nurses gave him a weird look. He could only imagine how disheveled and crazy he must appear.

Even after a year of marriage, "husband" still had a strange ring to Jake.

The kiss in the evidence lock-up had been the start of something tentative, but great. The weeks led to months, which led to a year, which led to two years. Jake and Amy had so many wonderful moments together. Their first "real" date. The first time they made love (Jake had taken back every single sex tape joke). Moving in together. Jake proposing to her with his Nana's ring on their second anniversary. Waking up one Friday morning and deciding to elope down at City Hall. They had strode into work two hours late, not saying a word to any of their coworkers. Boyle had noticed the rings first. "JACOB AND AMY YOU TWO GOT MARRIED WITHOUT TELLING US?" Jake still had no idea how Boyle's voice got so high. After the initial shock, everyone celebrated that night with champagne and wings at Shaw's.

"…sir…SIR!" The nurse was shouting at him now. "You can go in and see her. Room 413."

"Oh. Thanks."

Jake sprinted to Amy's room, and found her sitting up in bed. Rosa had gone to get coffee.

"You look like hell."

"Thanks honey," Jake replied.

He sat on the edge of her bed and wrapped his arms around her tightly, kissing the top of her head. "Don't ever do this to me again."

"You? I'm the one with the bruised eye, stitches in my arm, and a bump on my head," Amy said, laughing.

Jake continued to hug Amy tightly, never wanting to let her go. He knew their job was dangerous, but the more he could avoid hospitals (specifically ones where Amy was a patient) the better.

An ultrasound technician came into the room. "Ms. Santiago, I have to check your abdomen. Something came up on your blood test. Don't worry, it's not serious."

Jake and Amy looked at each other curiously. "Okay," said Amy. "Do what you need to do."

Amy started to tell Jake the story of what happened by the waterfront, when they both suddenly heard it.

Thump thump. Thump thump.

Amy's eyes grew wide. "Wait. Is that-?"

Jake looked like he might pass out.

"Yes," said the tech. "That is your baby's heartbeat. Everything looks great. You're about 6 weeks along."

"Baby?" Jake choked out. Tears of joy welled up in his eyes.

"Baby B looks great too," the tech said nonchalantly.

"Baby…B? Twins?" Amy peered at the screen, seeing two small sacs. She started laughing hysterically, then crying. Damn pregnancy hormones.

She heard a thud. "We're going to need a nurse. My husband just fainted."