Chapter 5: Valentine's Date

Author: WriterGirl89

Fandom: Brooklyn Nine-Nine

Rating: M (sex, guys, because you earned it!)

POV: Third-Person

Pairing: Jake/Amy

Summary: Amy settles her thoughts with an unexpected source, Jake makes a request – and the anticipation of the date starts – and ends with a bang.

Author's Note: I LOVE YOU GUYS! For all the support, feedback, and every single alert that took time out of your day to send to me and then, waiting on my dumb, enthusiastic responses and also my updates, which I think I've been pretty okay with and I wanna thank you all for everything you've done for me and please enjoy the last chapter of this story (despite how late it is)!

Disclaimer: For the last time, I don't own nor am associated with B99 and Andy Samberg isn't locked up in my basement because I don't have one - he's in the shed.

...

Amy's pretty sure she's starting to get sick – with, like, Happy Face Syndrome or something - because … She. Can. Not. Stop. Smiling. And it is really starting to get ridiculous and people are also starting to notice, though they say nothing, except for Boyle because he's Boyle and he's all about personal stuff and doesn't stop himself from asking her one day as she and him are processing the stock from a successful drug bust.

"You're smiling a lot lately." He observes idly as they do their work. "Something going on?"

She just shrugs, trying hard to tramp down her ever-present grin, her face getting hot as she thinks about her plans for the next night. "Maybe." She says, biting her lip to keep a giddy giggle – a giggle! – from escaping her.

"Well, I'm glad." She looks at up at her friend to see him give her a smile. An odd, knowing smile that makes her instantly suspicious. "Hope your plans turn out well."

And yeah, the ensuing ackward eye twitch that she assumes is supposed to pass for a wink makes her feeling even worse.

"Did you tell Charles about us?" She blurts to Jake later after she seats down at their shared desk, the words just bursting from her mouth, though keeping it low enough that no one would hear, not enough realizing her use of the term us until way after it's out of her mouth and she can't - might not want to - take it back.

His head snaps up from his laptop. "Hello to you, too, Amy." He responds in his typical Peralta manner, a lift to the side of his mouth that causes her to simultaneously want to slap or kiss it off his face.

She tilts her head, giving him look to propel him to not bullshit her right now. "Did you?"

"Mmm..." He hums and - she knows him well enough to recognize - pretends to think about it, complete with eye squinting and scratching of a chin. "... I might have." His eyes slide to her, catching her give him one of her many looks and seeing that the jig is already up, he just sighs and gazes at her earnestly. "He maybe helped me pick out your necklace." He admits begrudgingly, quietly, sucking in his bottom lip like a frightened small child and then casting a glance to said piece of jewelry hanging around her neck and that she now wears to work ever since he'd given it to her after that surprising dinner - the phantom sensation of his long, slightly broad fingers skimming across her skin and his hot breath in her hair as he clamps the chain on from behind her still a recurring fixture in her dreams with... other things.

"What?"

"I mean, you know..." His voice wavers and he seems to be scrambling for an explanation and scratches at his scalp. "Charles is a lot more romantic than I am." He admits, her heart softening as he gives her a helpless look. "And you..." He sighs, looking around before leaning in as far as the desk would allow. "You're great. Like, incredible. And I didn't wanna screw up that gift because you deserve the best." He adds, an expression like yearning sweeping across his face. "So, yeah, I asked Boyle to help me."

She stares at him, heart pounding and her mouth dry as she takes this all in.

Then, he's leaning back in his chair, the vibe back to normal again. "Besides, you don't have to worry about him telling anybody." He tells her, casually playing with a pen on his side of their desk. "I actually threatened to never be his friend again and - you shoulda seen his face - he straight-up almost cried."

She throws a ball of paper at his head, even as he cackles at his own remark.

...

She doesn't even realize that she's gone back to being Ms. Smiley 'til Rosa confronts her as they wait in the early evening sunset in an unmarked police vehicle, waiting on a known dealer to meet their informant, the other woman's voice sounding harsher then usual.

"Oh my God!" She exclaims out of nowhere and Amy is almost startled by it, nearly dropping her bag of chips on the floorboards. "Stop it!"

"Stop what?" She asks through a mouthful of tortilla chip. Pretty sure she cut the inside of her cheek on one.

"Smiling." Her partner for the time being says in her normal deadpan fashion. "You've been smiling all through those chips. You look like a chipmunk. Enough already." She threatens, before focusing her attention to the job at hand.

She grimaces at the comparison, nods and slowly swallows the overflow of tortilla chips, carefully letting it go down her throat before grabbing her bottle of water in the cup holder and tossing it back.

It's just a minute of silence between them before Rosa turns to her again, a lone eyebrow raised. "But, seriously, though, what's up? You've been grinning from ear to ear all day. What's wrong with you?"

"Nothing." She answers immediately because it's true. There's nothing wrong going on. She just- "I have a date tomorrow." She hears herself blurt, suddenly not being able to contain it and frowns at her outburst.

"Nuh-ah." The darker-haired woman mutters before saying. "No one, no matter who, looks that happy if they're just going to dinner with some random guy."

She feels herself get defensive at Rosa's knowing tone. Whether for herself or Jake, she's not sure but, she is. "It's not a random guy."

"Mmm-hmm. Okay."

She feels herself frown deeper, her heckles coming up. "It's not."

"I believe you."

She knows it. She knows what Rosa is pulling but, she still goes for the bait. "It's not a random guy." She tries saying calmly, close to annoyance.

"Sure, Santiago."

"It's not."

"Right. Fine."

"It's not a random guy!" She nearly yells, her temper getting the best of her. "It's Jake!"

It takes her a while to realize what she just said but, when she does, Amy immediately clamps a hand over her mouth, stifling a gasp. "Ohh!" And now, after her talk with Jake earlier - God, she's such a hypocrite!

The other woman just starts laughing, her normal cackle several beats higher. "Seriously? Peralta? You're going on another date with Peralta and you're happy about it?"

Her embarrassment of her loss of control quickly diminishes as she processes Rosa's almost mocking words, hands falling away from her face. "Why wouldn't I be?"

"Did you lose another bet?"

"No."

"He blackmailing you?"

"No!" She vehemently denies, her voice an octave higher than it should be. "God, Rosa! No! It's just a date!" She reiterates forcefully, her face burning. "It's a date. A real date-date..." She says more calmly looking at Rosa. "A date I'm going on because I want to." She adds, feeling an epiphany coming on. "A date I wanna go on with Jake because... I like him."

Rosa stares at her and for a long beat, it's just the two women staring each other down before she shrugs and turns her focus to the windshield. "Took ya long enough."

What? "What?"

"Took ya both long enough. For Peralta to get his head out of his own ass long enough to ask you out. And for you to stop being soo blind to the man who's said ass you now literally own." Rosa sates matter-of-factly, her tone broking no room for argument.

"I don't own-" She feels herself say before catching it, thinking hard, and taking it for the team. "Um... thank you. Does-Does this mean you-?"

"Just let me know if he hurts you so, I can shoot him, 'kay?" The leather jacket-clad detective asks rhetorically, giving her a serious look. "I have guns. A shitload of them."

A beat follows and then.

"Thanks... again." She responses hesitantly because it is nice of her and then, just because. "It won't be necessary but, I appreciate it."

"Good."

They sit in the car in complete silence after that.

...

On Valentine's Day morning, Amy Santiago wakes up to bright sun beaming through her shades and after opening one of her windows to check, a cool breeze and for the first time since ever, she sits in her grey linen robe over her nightie at her kitchen counter, scarfing down her neighbor Beth's infamously delicious red velvet pancakes with that lovely drizzling of icing syrup - Beth'd been under the impression, like most other people who know her, that she would be going solo on V-Day and she recalls waking up to a care package of still warm pancakes along with it's accoutrements on her front door as she goes to grab her paper and yeah, the heart shapes she could do without but, they're just so good - and then, humming at her wonderful breakfast and reflecting on the day ahead.

She has a date. On Valentine's Day. With Jake Peralta. In eight hours.

She lets out a sigh as she contemplates what it is he might have planned for them.

He's done good so far. Not too little, not too much. Just enough.

And she could not wait to see what he has in mind for her.

Because she definitely knows what she has in mind for him.

She's been enjoying the gestures. Gifts. The surprises. And cannot help but, anticipate what else he could do for her and them as a couple, in a real relationship, and that yeah, she maybe, in the past, underestimates him in that arena because as far as she knows, he doesn't do relationships as much as everyone else and it would never occur to her then it's just because he doesn't care.

Doesn't care until now, that is. She thinks. She won't flatter herself into thinking she's so special that he's only thinking about things in a more serious slant only for her but, she still feels it. Special, that is... to him. It's nice. It's a nice feeling to feel that way. Something she doesn't remember feeling a lot in past relationships.

But, then again, now that she thinks about it, Jake seems to always do that to her. Even before... this. Everything. It's just taken her too long to figure out the pattern until now.

After she finishes her breakfast and gets dressed, her keys in hand, and steps out of her building, her purse swinging over her shoulder, the last thing she expects is to find the object of her thoughts waiting on her, smiling broadly, leaning against his car, dressed in his usual casual garb of Converse, hoodie, and leather jacket.

It still jacks up her heart all the same, anyway.

"What are you doing here?" She asks, smiling nonetheless, at the sight of him.

"To get you this!" He exclaims, extracting a to-go mug from his back and extending it to her and she takes it from him with a small laugh, taking an immediate sip because her coffee maker is broken so, ugh. "I got it, right? Vanilla latte with extra vanilla?"

Of course, he gets it right. He always gets it right. Not gonna say it out loud but, she knows this for a fact as pure, caffeinated heaven goes down her throat. "Mmm. Yup, you sure did." She says slowly, lids dropping, inhaling deeply at the new warmth in her bones.

When she opens her eyes again, he's staring at her and the expression in his eyes is enough to cause her heart palpitations. "What?"

"Nothing. It's just..." He ducks his head briefly with a half-smile. "...You're really, really... um... something." He mutters loud enough for her to hear.

She doesn't know why but, the simple compliment further brightens her and when they get to work in his car, she kisses him - quick, lingering, punctuating - on the lips, hand firm on the back of his neck, his lips immediately responsive before she pulls away and gives him a wink before walking ahead of him into the station, exerting an extra swing in her hips because she knows he's watching her and it serves him right, too, 'cause he's not the only one that gets to do all the surprising.

They end up with so much work and never again get even one moment alone together again that Amy nearly forgets about their plans later until it's nearly dark, Jake's already gone, and she's nose-deep in a report when Holt calls her into his office and she frowns, looking at the clock, and then goes to her boss's office.

"Sir?"

The older man looks at from his dark-framed glasses, stoic as can be. "Go home, Santiago."

"Wha-?" She starts to say before catching herself. "I have to fini-"

"No." He shakes his head and shuts her up. "You have plans for tonight, I'm assuming?"

Then, she remembers. Jake. The date. How could she forget? "Yes. I do, in fact."

"As do I." He responses, his expression the most pleasant she's ever seen it - though he could be just having a lip twitch because despite saying otherwise, she's really not getting any better at this. "So, go. You can finish your work on Monday." She nods, not arguing, before turning to leave just as he says. "I'm sure Peralta's impatiently waiting."

And that makes her pause and she slowly turns right back around. "Pardon?"

"I said..." He starts off, his no-nonsense look back on. "... Peralta must be impatiently waiting for you."

"Sir, I'm not sure what you-"

"I know, Amy." And the use of her first name from the Captain's lips is so unexpected that she is struck speechless. And despite the fact that they couldn't sound less alike, he almost reminds her of her father with the stern yet still slightly affectionate tone. "I know because Peralta barged in here in a nervous fit a few weeks ago and asked if it was inappropriate if a friend of his were to theoretically persue something with a partner he has." She might add he actually finger quotes the part when he mentions Jake's so-called "friend" and his "partner" and she might laugh if she's not so busy calculating the beginning of his confession.

A few weeks? She thinks, turning everything in her mind. How long has he been planning all this? It's not something she ever thinks to put much stock into. How long he's been feeling the way he does. How long he's been making up his mind to do something about it.

The answer that comes to mind vividly shocks her to the core and she could be wrong but-

Few weeks, huh? "And uh, how long ago was this?"

Holt has that wise, knowing look on his face as he answers her, confirming her suspicions completely. "The 29th of last month. I remember it well because Peralta seems to have a sweating problem when he's nervous and I had half a mind to take a photo as evidence."

Again, she could laugh - should laugh because that is a good one - but, doesn't, her mind reeling... and she wants to get to that date as fast as she can.

"Thank you, Sir. Thank you very much. You've been a big help!" She exclaims, running out the door. "Bye!"

...

Amy looks at herself, turning at angles, in the mirror, taking in the new, red dress that she finds earlier as she arrives to get ready for the date, surprised when she finds the beautiful new outfit - in a much deeper, warmer shade than her Holt birthday party dress - in the big white box, a simple not from Jake asking her to wear it for him tonight and now that she's wearing it, she has even more questions as to how he figures this stuff.

It fits her perfectly - like a glove, indeed - and the peplum-style skirt reaches just above her knee, the sweetheart neckline making decent use of her boobs into pretty bangin' cleavage, and the fluttery short sleeves are a nice finish on it and she does another spin check herself a little more, smiling as she enjoys the moment.

Along with the dress, she'd taken the liberty of using some new make-up she hasn't had a chance to use as well some new perfume to spritz on top of the usual tin of solid vanilla perfume she usually wears and that Jake seems to like - she recalls heated words said against her skin during that memorable romp in a certain evidence lock-up and only keeps it as proof for later - and even makes use of a pair of simple diamond studs she'd gotten for her birthday.

She feels... good. Beautiful. Special. Sexy.

She gives herself an encouraging smile, a slight floof of the dark hair hanging in a loose style to her shoulders - because she knows Jake likes it that way - and then grabbing her coat and purse on the way out the door, high heels clacking on the old, wooden floor as she bounces outside.

And finds Charles there - dressed like some version of a limo driver.

"Boyle?"

"Your carriage awaits, milady!" He exclaims by way of greeting and she realizes that he's standing against to an actually nice-looking town car as he gestures towards it like an odd showman, that usual eager-to-please expression written on his face. "Nice, huh? Helped Jake pick it out!"

"You're driving me?!" She asks, despite the obvious evidence in front of her, the corners of her mouth lifting uncontrollably as she steps closer to the black, glossy vehicle and Boyle opens a door for her, though before doing so, stepping back and looking at him. "Jake is paying you for this, right?"

"Um..." He responds, looking lost and more than baffled. "We haven't really discussed-"

She just shakes her head, rolling her eyes as she steps into the car. "Oh my God."

...

"He said to go up to the roof?"

"Yup. Directions says specifically, 'tell her to go up to the roof'."

And that's basically how Amy finds herself back at her precinct and going up the stairs leading up the roof of said station, the mostly darkened area of her workplace making her uneasy, though she forces calm into her bones, knowing every step would lead her to Jake and once she's finally up to the door of the roof, she breathes in and out, opening it and stepping into the cool air outside.

The first thing she notices right off the bat is the lighting and finds that there are several lanterns lining the edge of the roof and it's really nice and she can hear something (is that music?) and it sounds familiar and as she follows it, she finds-

Jake.

He's standing next to a dining table, dressed to the nines in all black in a button-up and pants and boots, except for a tie that's almost exactly the same color as her dress and her heart wants to pop out of her chest as he stands there, looking handsome, hands clasped in front of him like a school boy, seeming - for the first time since this all started - nervous and it gives her a fluttery feeling like a million butterflies on her stomach.

"Hey." He says, that Peralta grin spreading over his lips and giving her heart failure as per usual. "You look..." His eyes rove over her in that way he's become an expert at and it causes a promising heat to settle in her lower belly. "... wow, God... You're gorgeous..." She feels her face burn when he says that and it must show, even in the dim lighting because he takes one look at her and says. "Shit, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to embarrass-"

"No, it's fine." She says, not wanting him to feel sorry for finding her attractive just because she can't get her shit straight and come to terms with the fact that he not only wants her but, likes her. Holds an interest in her like he does. "Don't, I'm not-" She sputters over her words to high heaven before saying honest and coherent. "I'm just not... used to this. Yet. I mean, still. I guess."

When she meets his eye again, he's giving her a look. That combination of heat, tenderness, affection, and pure desire that never fails to weaken her knees and when he steps closer to her, the feeling gets a lot worse and oh Jesus, when he trails his fingertips down her arms-

Then, they're weaving up and towards her face, cupping her cheeks and he's leaning in and kissing her, her lips parting on instinct, and although it's nice and deep, it's still doesn't seem to be enough and she finds herself chasing his lips when he pulls way, her hands clutching his wrist.

He gazes at her, eyes dark and expressive. "Let's go sit down."

She nods, momentarily robbed of speech and letting him lead them towards the dining table, that she now sees is set up with white table cloth, lit candles, dinner wear, and nice-looking cutlery and utencils and she smiles at Jake when he pulls out her chair for her to sit. "Thanks." She now spots the band of men on the opposite side of them, playing violins. "You got a band?"

"Yup." He nods, pouring her the red wine sitting on ice at the table and her smile brightens further, reaching for it to take a sip.

"You remembered I like red?"

He chuckles, nodding again as he finishes up the pour and then leaning back, the close-lipped quirk of his mouth, along with the dark glimmer of his stare sexy and alluring in the candlelight and the promising heat starts blazing, directing itself towards him. "I remember a lot about you." He says with an earnestness that melts her right then and there and she tilts her head, holding onto that stare before his ears turn red and he ducks his head, the quirk expanding into a wide, toothy smile and the sight is so beautiful to her then that she has trouble breathing. "Jake, I-"

But, whatever she has to say is interrupted because an actual waiter arrives - another surprise for her this evening - and lets them know that their meals will be arriving soon and she glances at Jake, who gives her a secretive grin and not long after that, two more waiters appear, carrying two covered plates that they remove to reveal their food and she gasps as she sees a lightly cooked filet mignon cut on her plate along with a side of mashed potatoes and green beans. "Ohhh!" She exclaims, not even remotely embarrassed at the especially girly, high-pitched squeal escaping her vocal chords. "This looks amazing! How did you know I wanted to try this?!"

He shrugs, digging into his own filet - only his is more browned with a dark sauce on top and she could tell it's piping hot when he cuts into it. "You told me."

She cocks her side, wracking her brain as to when she could have told him this. "I did?"

"Yeah." He nods, taking a bite of his food. "Hmm." He hums briefly, enjoying it and then. "Anyway, it was on a stake-out-"

"Which one?"

He just shrugs again, grabbing the wine bottle and popping it open. "Hell if I know. I didn't even realize how much I knew about you 'til I was planning this whole thing and I'm not the only who could overshare." He tips his chin towards her half-way empty glass and she then realizes that she's been mindlessly drinking while they'd been talking. "More wine?"

"Yes. Thank you." He starts pouring and she stops him when it only has a small amount at the bottom. "That's good." She wants to still have her wits about her tonight and not ruin anything because her need to jump him is getting worse and worse with every sip of alcohol.

A silence follows - a not entirely comfortable yet not awkward silence that takes into account the momentous energy between them - and for a while, she lets it go, allowing herself to, for once, not overanalyze and nitpick at every square inch of this and simply enjoy what's looking to be one of the best dates of her adult life with the man who, just months ago, she would never think would do this for her and savoring the most buttery, softest cut of meat she's ever had.

Though, after that time is up, she can't take it anymore and asks the very thing that's been percolating in her brain since she left this very precinct earlier for this exact date. "Jake?" He looks up at her, giving her his undivided attention and she almost chickens out as his eyes - those intense, knowing eyes - lock on her, her nerves nearly getting the best of her. "How... How long have you been planning this?"

He finishes and swallows his food and waits, watching as he gulps some of his wine and leans back in his chair, a weirdly contemplative expression on his face, gaze now on the candles between instead of on her. "Remember the bet?"

Without thinking, she rolls her eyes, taking her wine glass. "How could I forget?"

"Remember the date?"

"You mean the first half of what was supposed to be the worst date of my life? Yup, I remember that, too."

"Well..." He trails off and looks at her pointedly, eyes begging her to understand and when she finally does, she can't comprehend it because that was over a month ago and he can't have-

"No."

"Yes."

"Oh my God." Her face sinks into her palms before she has enough courage to look him, words muffled against her hand. "That was a month ago."

"Yeah." He nods.

"How did you-?"

"Boyle."

She feels her face scrunch up. "Boyle?"

"Uh-huh." He takes another drink of his wine before continuing. "The night of that date when we went to the bar and you had gone off to the bathroom, I had a moment with Charles and you know, he was on that truth bomb drug cocktail and he, uh, told me that..." He smiles as if in recollection. "... Nobody planned a date so elaborately like I had unless they liked the person." He meets her eye and dips his chin, an honest smile on his lips. "He basically said I was pulling your pigtails."

"Pulling my pig-?" She stops, confused, baffled, until something else becomes clearer still. "The relief team." She says almost to herself.

"What?"

She blinks herself back to life and looks at him, stumbling through an explanation. "I, uh... Holt told me the day after our... He thanked me for saying no to the relief team that night on the roof."

There's a long beat after that and several different types of emotions cross Jake's face as he processes it and she waits patiently until he's able to speak again. "I figured you found that out." He then says slowly, nearly to himself but, she hears him fine.

"Pardon me?"

He looks back at her, gives her a knowing nod. "I'm a detective, Amy." He says pointedly in a deadpan fashion. "You started acting weird right after your meeting with Holt and you kept looking like you wanted to tell me something and I almost wanted to ask what the hell was wrong with you and I figured you-" He shakes his head suddenly, chuckling. "Jesus, we're really bad at this."

She honestly does not expect to burst into tears after that and then, he's there, at her side immediately, trying to ask what's wrong and the concern in his voice causes her crying to somewhat cease and for her hands to stop shaking enough to grab a hold of the back of his neck and propel him towards her as she leans in to kiss him and the experience is soo searing and electric that when they pull back from each other, she's trembling with need, clutching at his shirt, and he's breathing hard, eyes dark and glittering, his hands large and warm on her waist, her own vibrating and unsteady on the strong set of his shoulders.

"You wanna..." She able to say after a few seconds of harsh breathing. "...go back to my apartment?" She asks a little shyly, hands traveling from the wide berth of his shoulders to the thrumming pulse of his neck down to his firm chest where his heart races. "What do you say?"

...

"Okay." Amy finds herself saying to her reflection later, having left Jake in her apartment to roam as he pleases because her nerves are killing her and it's weird and she feels hot and tingly and anxious and it's been soo long since she's had sex - like real sex sex and not like dumb, unsatisfying third-base bullshit she's been giving to only a few of her good dates in the past - and god, she could be so rusty and could disappoint him or-

"Amy?"

She dunks back into reality at the sound of his voice nearby. "Coming!"

She undies the clips in her hair, fluffing her hair out further, and letting it loose over her shoulders before stepping out of her bathroom and seeing Jake leaning against her kitchen counter examining her knife block and yeah, her heart starts to speed double-time and she could not tell you why.

"Find anything interesting?"

His eyes move from his point of fascination to her and immediately pushes away from the counter and walks towards her, his stride lazy and just predatory enough for her spine to instinctively get straighter and keep eye contact with him as he advances on him and then , he's on her, leaning in and the kiss they share is slow, deep, and full of sensual anticipation that causes her to tremble again as he pushes her against the wall, big hands sliding up and over her waist to align their hips better and a wave of arousal dampens her when she feels him - hard and ready - against her and she explores the structure of his arms as he settles for kissing her neck, pillow-y lips trailing up and down the side of her neck and the area behind her ear.

"Uh..." She loses thought as he sets one of her legs over his hip then moves up to cup her breasts through her dress. "You wanna... okay, wow... go to... bedroom?" She manages through gasping as he grinds into her, the hardness there promising hours of a good time and soreness the next morning because really, it has been a while for her and she's really excited to see how he would end this particular drought.

He stops the, chuckles against her skin, and after spending more time on that area of her ear, sucking hard enough to bruise, he pulls back and steps away from her, that once insufferable - now, jesus christ, sexy - smug grin on his face and sweeps out an arm. "Lead the way, detective."

She ducks her head, blushing before walking ahead of him, grabbing his hand in the process, and as he suggests, leading him to her bedroom.

The mattress is turned down and she's thankful that she chooses that very same very morning to change up her normal floral bedspread and crochet quilt to the off-white and cream one she'd received from friends a few months ago and the musky vanilla air freshener she likes to spray all over her apartment before leaving for work is lingering especially well here and the matching candle next to the bed is burned out and she thinks maybe, subconsciously, she knows this would happen or-

"Amy." The man about to sample up her bedspace comes up behind her and circles his arms around her waist and she can't help but, lean into him as she feels brush his nose into her hair, lips near her ear. "Anything you wanna say to me?" The words are low, almost growl-y in a way she'd never heard from him before and it makes everything spin and her heart to pound harder in her heart and she feels herself grow faint but, very, very excited.

Feeling a sudden boldness coming from the erotic charge in the air, she grabs a hold of it and says. "I... want you." And yes, she could roll her eyes at the safe term she uses but, from the way Jake becomes harder against her ass and grips her hips tighter, it seems work just fine and she really has no thought for the words until they are out of her mouth and then, he's turning her head and coaxing her into a kiss, that big mouth and tongue of his sliding over and into hers and she moans, turning in his arms to clutch him further into him because god, this is good, he's a good kisser and has a taste to him she still cannot place; a touch of spice along with a zing of mint and his lips are soft and full and she could do this all day.

Feeling like she hast wake up a little, she opens her mouth under his and breathes him in as he wraps his arms around her entire frame. Surrounded by Jake Peralta. Something she doesn't even realize she wants 'til very recently and yet, here she is, surrounding herself with him. The softness of his lips. The langorous movement of his tongue. The strength and muscles of his body. The size of his hands on her back. The smell of his cologne on his clothes.

It's all too much but, still not enough.

Before her nerves could return, she starts unbuttoning his shirt - quick enough to calm her impatience; slow enough to not wreck the moment - and once it's open, without breaking their kiss, he helps her take it off and she'll all too grateful he chose not to wear t-shirt underneath as he tends to do and lays her hands flat on the planes of his chest that's all firm and muscle-y and downy hair and when she light scratches her nails down his chest, he mutters something that sounds like a swear but, he's also sliding his hands up her back and coming down again as he unzips her dress, those broad-fingered hands coming into contact finally with the bare skin of her back and she sighs into his mouth.

Time stops, suspending itself, as she tears her mouth from his and takes a step back.

And he just stands there, breathing heavily, frowning briefly and she catches a small glimpse of disappointment before it's gone quickly and he opens his mouth to say something and she's already gathering her courage and tugs at her dress, the top half pooling briefly at her waist before she slips the whole thing down her bare legs, revealing the almost but, not quite matching red lingerie set underneath of an especially lacy bra and tiny panties.

(And see, when she says she's thought about going to bed with Jake, she's not kidding. But, in her head, it's... different. It's either a drunken - maybe sober - one-night-stand or better yet, a series of spontaneous encounters that they are able to write off and he would get his introduction to her body in the form of her utilitarian white cotton underwear set and she'd takes cues from him and any kind of affection she may be feels for him has to go by the wayside in order to sleep with him and anyway, this. This right here, is a lot better than anything she could imagine.)

And the tug at his lips, the fire in his almost back eyes, as he looks her over, fills up with a whole lot of lust and hunger and warms her belly and then he's coming back to her, closing the distance between them and replacing his hands on her waist, thumbs circling on her skin. "You're beautiful."

"Mmm." She hums, curling into him because he's warm and firm and male, a total contradiction to her softness and curves.

"You really are." He says, as if to drive his point home, as his hands go around her back, unfastening the lace bra with ease and then leaning back to watch his work as he draws the straps down her shoulders.

The bra falls between them and onto the floor in a whisper.

She can't help it. The nerves come back full-force and she unconsciously hugs her arms to her chest, though meeting his eyes as they go to hers, a flash of disapproval flashing in that instance at her gesture. "Am I?"

He draws her close again, fingers gentle as he removes her arms her wrists from it's defensive pose, his breath hot on her forehead when he kisses her hairline and she has to close her eyes at the tenderness of it all. And his voice. God, it's even more- He sounds so earnest and serious. Like he's speaking absolute truth and she shouldn't argue with him. "You are the most beautiful thing I've ever seen."

She shivers at the intensity of his voice, shielding her face from his with the curtain of her hair, her skin flushing despite his words but, allows him to remove her arms completely and pull away slightly and the weight of his gaze on her, warming her.

Stealing her resolve, the sudden rise of confidence in her, she lifts her eyes to his, smoothing her hands over the build of his arms, the firmness of his chest, down the subtle ripples of his stomach. "You want me, too, right?" She asks, going at his pants, undoing them with quick fingers.

"You know I do." He answers hoarsely, pulling her tighter into his body, the straining bulge evident of his body's reaction to her and she forgets everything when he leans down, kissing her again, breath harsh and ragged. "God, I do. For way too fucking long." And she feels that scrap of lace covering her flood with moisture as every inch of his body presses towards her and she moans as she tilts her head back as his lips travel over her jaw and neck and grabs at him, nails scraping at his chest and his back as he steps out of his pants entirely, still locked in their embrace.

Not thinking twice, she presses her hand to his underwear; black boxer briefs that leave nothing to the imagination and Jake's erection seems to matter above all else right now - hard, warm, solid, and promising - and feels proud when his hips jerk forward and then, he's lifting her, grabbing her thighs up and she wastes no time in wrapping her legs around him... and gasps at the feeling of him pressed intimately against her.

He groans and they hold still for a minute.

And then, they're moving again and he's landing on top of her on the bed, his weight solid and wonderful, tearing at each other, her fingers threading through his hair as his into her panties, lone digit sliding in and then immediately after, another joining it and she gasps again, a hissing breath leaving her, the sound high-pitched.

"Jake..." She's able to let out, rocking into his touch.

And then, he leans down, pulling an errand nipple into his mouth, sucking and biting on it, he strokes her, voice muffled and husky when he speaks. "God, you're excited. Oh, Amy..."

"Oh, God..."

And then, he's pulling his fingers out, making her out cry out at the sudden emptiness, a sound that he swallows up with his mouth, kissing her, tongue deep, lips passionate on hers before slowing it down, making her breathless, the room devoid of air momentarily before he trails his lips onto her cheek, her jaw, behind her ear, biting the lobe, and then down to her throat, putting teeth into his kisses as she spreads her hands over the back of his neck and his shoulderblades as he dotes on her, crawling down the bed, hooking hands into her underwear, fingers skimming her skin the whole way before he throws them across the room without looking, and she watches as he finally gets to his destination, spreading her thighs and keeping his eyes on her as he lowers his mouth to her folds, hands spreading her open to him.

She gasps, arching up, the first touch of his tongue making buck up but, the firm grip on her hips tightens and pin her as he goes to work and she feels every tingle of electricity coursing through her limbs multiply with just a flick of his tongue, that big mouth of his getting down on her hard, her fingers desperately grasping her sheets and the first slide of his fingers into her makes her shudder, his tongue and teeth and fingers working together to pleasure her going directly to her head.

Sweat gathers on her skin.

And, oh dear god, he's good, his mouth missing no part of her, fingers and tongue touching her just right and - Oh, god!

"Jake... I'm almost... Ohh, god, yes... right... there..." She sounds, even to her own ears, desperate, striving for orgasm, fervent for it but, at the same time not wanting this to end. Not at all. Goodness, who knew Jake Peralta's mouth could work for something other than sarcasm and sweet talking?

He licks at her bundle of nerves skillfully, sucking it, drawing it into his mouth, teasing it, and she could feel every lick and taste he takes of her and he laps at her voraciously, thumbs digging so hard into her hips that she knows she'll have bruises the next day but, she can't be bothered to give a damn as she goes hurtling towards release, hips arching and bucking under his grasp, hands coming up and covering the scream from her throat. Drowning her in it's wake. Both her arms coming up over her head once the scream subsides and she is left, only to stare blindly at the ceiling in the ensuing quiet following the storm of her climax, her breath heavy and hard to catch as Jake climbs up at her body, spreading kisses all over her flesh in the reverse order as he heads back up, humming as he teases a nipple with his teeth and she could nothing but, shudder as he does, a spike of arousal letting her body they're nowhere near done.

"God, you're sweet." He murmurs and before she could do anything he's back again, kissing her slowly, just enough until her breath settles and her heartbeat relaxes against his, her fingers slipping into his thick, short hair as they slide their tongues over one another before just as slowly pulling away, though he keeps himself close, body covering hers and she realizes that, at some point, he's taken off his boxer-briefs and she can feel - for the first time - him naked and still hard near her thigh and the skin-on-skin contact is enough to bring her body back to life, though the fiery need to tear him apart moments earlier is now replaced by a much more earthy, bone-deep passion that nevertheless stirs her to move, undulate against him to let him know what she wants.

They lock eyes, hot breath bursting over hers, and he keeps them there, gaze intent on her own, fingers trailing up her jaw, tucking a lock of her hair behind her ear and besides the question in his dark stare, she notices something else. A shift. Between them. And it's not just need and lust and want anymore. There's a fluidity of revolving emotions - lust, gentleness, need, desire, want, sweetness, aching, hunger, longing, craving - mixed with all that affection and tenderness.

No one. No man has ever looked at the way Jake's looking at her now.

And all of it. Every single bit of fear she may have had over this thing with them... disappears.

She might admit to being afraid of her feelings for him before, but she can also openly say she's not anymore.

She trusts him now completely. With her body. As well as her heart.

Firmly kissing him, she reaches down, shifting so that she cradles him between her legs, her fingers curling around the most generous - she guessed right - erection she's seen in recent years, the groan escaping him heaven to her ears, and again, his penetrating eyes lock on her as he shifts, muscles in his arms bunching up, as she leads him to her entrance, though he stops short just before his goal, breathing heavily once more. "Condom?"

She pauses, clears the haze in her brain to register his question, then shakes her head in response. "No, I trust you." She does. "Plus, I'm... covered." She nods, mentally cataloguing her calendar and remembering her most doctor's office.

He nods, relief washing over his face. "Pill?"

She shakes her head. "IUD."

It takes him a minute. Then, he nods, understanding dawning on his expression. "Okay." He says, smile on his face. "Even better."

She lets out a breathless laugh, her own smile breaking. "Great. Come here." And pulls him down again for a kiss.

And like that, the mood is back and after a few minutes of kissing, the next shift of his hips has him - finally - entering her, hissing as his thickness opens her up, and oh great, the fact that she's closed up shop a bit comes back to her, and yeah, this could give new credence to the idea of her being a virgin to Jake.

But, feeling her tense up, he simply rests his forehead against her, panting harshly as he tries controlling himself and she breathes in and out, soothing the new tension in her body and he strokes at her hips, caressing her bare skin. "You alright?"

"Yeah, yeah." She nods, reassuring him, despite the strained breathy quality of her voice. "It's just... been a while."

"I can tell. Here." He kisses her and she makes a small sound in the back of her throat as his fingers go down towards where he's gently rocking inside her and starts rubbing her and as she starts relaxing, he steadily gets deeper. Making her fell full. Stretched out. In the best possible way.

She groans into his mouth. Then moans along with his name escaping her lips.

Then, he's pushing all the way in and she breaks their lips apart entirely, gasping at the feeling and he pauses, mumbling an apology at her hairline, pressing his lips there, moving strands off of her temples, the expression on his face so soulful and tender it hurt her heart to see it. The kind of look one would give to somebody they don't just like and she feels a ball grow in her throat at the thought.

And then, he starts moving inside her and she moans at the pleasure enveloping her, a slow, sweet rhythm building between them, trying to keep their eyes on each other.

She feels a flutter in her belly.

It's all around her. In her. Along with Jake. Warmth rushing through her veins. Sensation taking over. Their feeling making this... more.

And as it all seems to build up, coming to a crescendo, until he has no words for her and there's just grunts with every thrust and she throbs at every turn, clenching and fluttering around him as she comes tumbling for a second time and clutches Jake's face, keeping his eyes locked on hers, feeling the tenseness of his body, the bulging muscles in his arms, the sweat on his brow.

His breathing speeds up, in gusts that stir the hair over her forehead and she sees him grit his teeth and bare his throat, straining, and she rocks against him. Squeezes him tighter. "Jake." She simply says in a husky whisper.

"Fuck. Amy." The guttural voice causes her to clench in response and he thrusts into her, hips driving forward and then doing it again and then, he's twitching and jerking, spasming as he buries himself within her once more, coming inside her willing body and she holds on, his back arched and arms straining 'til they finally give way when he collapses on top of her, his frame weighing her down and to be honest, she doesn't really mind, hands languidly smoothing over the back of his neck. His shoulders. The build of his back as he softens inside her, his hot breath ghosting over her skin and giving her goose bumps.

There's silence afterward. A nice, intimate hush that comes over them.

And - because she just can't help it - she laughs.

His head pops up from her collarbone, looking at her with wide alarmed eyes. "What?"

She only laughs harder and he lifts himself up above her, arms outstretched on the sides of her body. "What the hell, Amy?"

"I'm sorry." She manages between chuckles, trying to make him understand. I'm so sorry. I just... It's been a while since I've had sex and this was just..." She gestures at their naked, sweaty bodies. "... really incredible. Like seriously..." She actually gives him the guns motion with her fingers and he just looks at her like she's crazy so, she simply grabs his face and kisses him then pulls away with a wide smile. "What I'm trying is that you, sir, have skills." She half teases.

"Okay." He says, looking put out, even though he gets off her and settles onto his back, bringing her with him so, that she's half lying on his chest, their legs tangling together, an arm wrapping her shoulders to bring her closer and she doesn't fight him, instead - like it's already second nature - snuggling into his body, throwing her arm and thigh over him to get more comfortable.

They lie there together for a while. His hands mapping out the curve of her back. Her fingers playing with his chest hair.

She breaks the silence again. "I'm happy." She says, speaking the absolute truth, feeling secure in the cocoon of their intimacy.

She shifts, her weight on his chest now, looking him over and he's quite a sight. All messy hair and flushed skin, kiss-stained lips and half-lidded, bedroom eyes, pupils blown to twice their size and she leans in, kissing his chin quickly before pulling away. "Are you?"

He just gives her a 'what do you think?' look and she just stares him down until he sighs, only half-reluctant and admits. "Yes. Amy Santiago. Now that I have you all to myself, I am... stupidly, ridiculously, totally and completely happy." He raises his eye brows. "We good?"

"Shut up, Peralta." She answers, laughing as she pulls him in for another kiss, the only thing obstructing them being the big, wide grins on their faces and the ecstatic laughter escaping from their very bones.

...

A/N: *peaks out from curtain* Did I do good? I hope you guys liked it. It took me a while to write it and I hope it pays off and you guys are, again, the best of the bunch and thanks very much for reading my story and for all the support! :) And also, more apologies for the long - and very late - wait. *sneaks off*