Jake shivers again. He's been alternating between hot and cold for a couple of hours, and Amy's been on hand to add or remove blankets as needed. She hasn't even cringed at the swollen lump on his neck once today. She's giving herself a high-five in her head for being such a good girlfriend. And a good employee, since she's been doing the same for Captain Holt, who is currently fast asleep upstairs.

"Want me to get you anything, honey?"

He grimaces and shakes his head.

"Nope. No honey. Too sticky."

She smiles and holds his hand. "Right. Of course. Is there anything you do want?"

"Just stay here. I'm sorry I'm gross. I have mumps."

He's told her this twelve times, despite the fact that she was in the doctor's office when he found out. She just nods, tucking his blankets around him a little more.

"You're not gross. You're cute."

"I'm lumpy. Got a mumpy lump. Did I tell you his name is Simon?"

"You did."

"My little bump." He pats his neck gently. It's weird. "Little baby bump. It's like my neck is pregnant."

That's weirder.

"Okay, Jake. No more cold medicine for you."

He sniffs and closes his eyes, huddling down further into the blankets and squeezing Amy's hand.

"I'm gonna be better. I promise."

She frowns. He looks so serious.

"Of course you are," she strokes the back of his hand, "the doctor said you'd be fine in a couple of weeks. You just need to rest."

"No, no, I have to be better. I have to be better than him."

"Better than whom? Holt? The mumps aren't a contest, Jake."

He shakes his head again.

"No, not him. He's good. He wouldn't leave and I won't leave." That's when it clicks. She's seen this worried look before. He holds her hand in both of his and tries his very best to look into her eyes. It makes him a little dizzy and he has to blink hard. "I won't leave you and Simon. Ever."

It's the saddest (and maybe creepiest) thing Amy's ever heard.

"You're not him, Jake. You're ten times the man he is."

"Person. Equality."

"Obviously. You are the best person I know. I don't know if you're even going to take this in, but you're loyal, and caring, and I totally trust you not to leave like he did."

He nods, brow still furrowed. "I wanna be a good dad. To our mumps and our babies."

Amy title her head and smooths Jake's hair back. "You've really thought about this, haven't you?" It makes sense – she heard him talk about wanting a family before they were together, and of course he would want some stability after the childhood he had. She's just never heard him say this kind of stuff since they've been dating. She notices that it doesn't freak her out as much as she thought it would. "You'll be an amazing dad. I know you will." She leans forward to kiss him but he tries to pull away.

"No no no, you'll get sick-"

"Shut up, Peralta." She kisses his temple. She considers kissing the mump, because she knows it would give him that big goofy smile he does when she goes along with his dumb made-up games, but she doesn't want to hurt him. And it's really gross. She blows it a kiss instead, and he must have just gotten too warm again because the cool breeze makes him shudder with pleasure. "Time to get some more sleep."

"No."

"But it would be so funny-"

"Jacob Peralta, if I had just spent 9 months growing two human children and you suggested calling them Starsky and Hutch I would punch you in the throat."

He smirks, and carries on playing with her hair absent-mindedly while Property Brothers plays quietly in front of them. Neither of them is really paying attention. They've been playing this game more and more recently.

"And Turner and Hooch is still a definite no?"

"Definitely."

"I just have to face it. Nothing would ever beat Cagney and Lacey anyway. Stupid Terry."

"Don't pretend you don't love those girls."

"Amy, I'm their God Uncle, it's my job. It doesn't matter – there aren't any twins in our families, so we won't have any. Little baby John McClane Santiago-Peralta it is. Works for a boy or a girl."

She snorts and takes a sip of her wine. "Or maybe a regular name for a human baby."

"Ugh, you're no fun."

She doesn't respond. He feels her body tense ever so slightly where she's leaning on his chest.

"I know. Sorry."

"What?"

She sits up, shifting away from him and pulling a knee against her chest.

"Nothing. Sorry. I know it's just a game; you can call our imaginary kids whatever you want."

Jake takes her wine glass and sets it down on the coffee table. He scoots towards her, slipping his hand under hers.

"Ames, what's wrong? I was just kidding around, it doesn't matter."

"Exactly. You were kidding around and I was being boring. Like always."

He so rarely sees her like this. She's always so in control, it's weird when she suddenly looks so vulnerable. He shuffles closer and squeezes her knee.

"Amy, you're not boring. If we called our kids Starsky and Hutch they'd probably get taken away from us. Our imaginary kids need you."

"Yeah, for schedules and chore wheels and hand sanitiser. But when they want to play and laugh and have fun, they'll go straight to you."

"Ames, that balance between us is what keeps me alive. It'll stop our kids from running around with no teeth and reading ages of 6 when they start college. And any kid with your DNA is gonna be super excited about that chore wheel thing."

"Or they'll just be like you, and they'll want to make up characters and back stories and-"

"And solve puzzles, and find clues, and all the stuff you're awesome at. And if they're even a little bit like me, they'll think you're amazing. Even if they're not called Robocop and Don Johnson."

She nudges him with her shoulder. "Shut up Peralta." She shuffles closer to him again, her head finding its resting place on his collar bone. "Thanks. Love you."

"Love you too."

"We have to have the conversation, Amy."

"No we don't. We're fixing this. This guy will help us and you and Rosa won't have to go to prison and everything will be fine."

It's a good thing she's driving, or her hair would be in stress cornrows by now.

"It might not be enough. We need some kind of plan. What happens with us if I go to prison?"

"Nothing happens. We just have some time long distance, then when we get you out we're together again."

"No."

She almost swerved right off the road.

"What? Are you saying you want to break up?"

He holds her hand where it's squeezing the gear stick so hard it could break.

"Of course I don't want to, but they're trying to send me down for 15 years. That's way too long for you to wait."

"It won't be that long-"

"It might be! If this doesn't work out, they've got me."

He hates every word that's coming out of his mouth, and she knows it. If he has to do the full fifteen, not only will he be miserable and terrified, surrounded by criminals he may well have helped convict, but Amy will have to keep going by herself on the outside. Going to work with her friends, watching as they settle down, get married, have children, and coming home every day to an empty apartment.

"I don't want to be with anybody else."

"I don't want you to be alone. You should be able to get married and have kids-"

"We can do that after you get out."

"When you're 48 and I'm 51?"

"There's adoption-"

"Not for ex-cons."

She sniffs and blinks quickly. She can't drive with blurred vision. That's what she needs to focus on, not the fact that she didn't even want kids before she was with Jake, not how furious she is with him for changing her mind or at that terrible Hawkins woman for forcing them apart like this, not how damn unfair any of this is. She needs to hold it together, just for today. Maybe just for this car ride.

She risks a glance at him, and she can see his heart breaking. He tried to do the right thing, to stop the bad guys like he always does, and this is where it's got him. That spark has faded from his eyes for the first time since she's known him. The Jake she's fallen in love with is crumbling right next to her.

"We're never going to agree on this, are we?"

"Probably not."

She lets go of the gearstick and grips his hand instead.

"Then let's drop it. This isn't a drive to the middle of nowhere for… whatever it is we're hoping to find. This is a high-speed pursuit. Who are we chasing?"

He's looking at his lap.

"Maybe it's time to stop chasing."

"Shut up, Peralta." She squeezes his hand hard in hers. "We're never going to stop. I promise."

He squeezes back. He looks up at her, the smallest smile creeping onto his face.

"Okay," his voice breaks but he pushes through it, "We're hot on the trail of Sylvia Adams, notorious jewel thief, and we need to beat her to the port before she gets into international waters with the rubies, and we need to get home in time to put Robocop to bed!"

He brings her hand to his lips and kisses her knuckles. She takes a deep breath.

"We've got this."

He'll understand eventually. She's never giving up on him.

The 'G' word reverberates around the room and their hearts clatter to the floor. He's murmuring to himself, "Cool-cool-cool-cool-cool-" and she wishes she do something, anything, to comfort him, to fix this, to pinch herself and wake up and have all of this be just some nightmare. He turns to look at her as if she has an answer, but she's got nothing at all. All she can do is reach out for his hands, tugging him towards her, and – there must be words somewhere, something to say that will make that terrified, lost look go away, but – she puts her hand on his cheek and kisses him, and they can't hear the chaos around them, the Captain talking to Rosa, Charles crying, Gina starting some kind of Twitter campaign to free them… there's no way this is enough, but just for this second, this kiss is all she's got to give.

They're pulled apart and he and Rosa are dragged away, but she gets two seconds where their eyes lock, and of course it hasn't fixed everything but for now it's enough. He squeezes her waist, her hand, gives her the slightest nod and before she can blink he's gone.

She collapses into her seat. Terry's hand is on her shoulder, saying something kind and reassuring, but she can't hear him. All that matters is fixing this.

"Should I even ask how it is in here? Would you rather not talk about it?"

He shrugs. She thinks he looks thinner. Maybe she's being paranoid.

"It's pretty mixed. I've bumped into three guys I put in here, but a couple of my favourite snitches are here too. And apparently Doug Judy has put in a good word with a lot of his buddies and they seem to have my back for now. I think he's promised them immunity even though they're already in prison."

"Has there been trouble? Is there anything I can do?"

"Nah, I'm crushing this prison thing. I'm basically king of the place." He's not convincing, but she nods. He swallows. "Just seeing your face again is enough for me. Also if you could keep trying to get me out, I guess that would be pretty cool. Really cool. Please."

Holt makes excuses to keep Jake's desk empty, but it doesn't last forever. Amy's mother tries to set her up with a chiropractor she met at church. Gina's baby becomes something of a precinct celebrity. Amy solves cases faster than Holt can assign them, then stays up way too late working on Jake and Rosa's.

There must be something they've missed.

There has to be.

There is.

They so nearly miss it, but Terry finds another account, Ray interrogates the boyfriend of a low-down associate of Hawkins, and Charles and Amy pull an all-nighter at her place, connecting dots and crying their way through a bottle of wine, and they've got it. It's undeniable. It's 4:27am but they call everyone immediately.

Rosa and Jake are coming home.

The second the gate opens, Jake steps straight into Amy's arms. Or, he tries to.

"Hey, Charles. Missed you too, buddy."

"This has been the worst seven months, three weeks and two days of my life."

"Uh-huh. Look, not that I didn't miss you, but I'd really like to say hi to my girlfriend if that's okay with you."

Charles sniffs, nods, and steps aside.

"That's right. Go to her."

Charles is torn between looking away so they can't see him cry, and staring at them as the tears flow. The latter wins.

Jake buries his face in Amy's neck and she clings to him, both shaking a little.

"Let's go home, Peralta."

"I'm already home," he whispers without moving an inch.

Charles' cries get louder.

Feeling Amy's breath on his ear, her chest pressed against his back, surrounded by the smell of her, he finally starts to feel a little bit like a human being. He had thought she'd be asleep, but when he turns just so he can look at her, just because he can, he realises she's staring at him and probably has been for hours.

"How long have you been awake?"

"I don't think I went to sleep."

He turns to face her, their noses, foreheads, chests – anything that could be touching is touching. He smiles against her mouth as he kisses her.

"Nice try, snorey McGee. You were definitely out for a while. God, Amy, it's so good to be home. I missed you so much."

"I missed you too."

"I can't wait to finally get our lives back on track."

"Me neither."

"Let's go and get married."

Her eyes widen.

"Excuse me?"

"I want to be with you. We wanted to get married eventually anyway, right? Why wait? I want to be your husband. I mean, if you don't want to, if you'd rather plan everything out and write up an itinerary and do everything properly, I get it. Um. You're giving me a really weird look. I jumped the gun, didn't I? You know what, maybe I'm just hungry – let's go out for breakfast. Brunch? I don't know what time it is-"

"No, no, Jake, I just, uh-" her heart is racing, and at first it's excitement, then is-it-okay-to-be-excited, then I-should-be-panicking, then oh-god-now-I-am-panicking. "I need the bathroom. And I'm taking my phone with me for reasons that are totally unrelated to what you just said. And I love you."

She squeezes his hand for a moment before running to the bathroom.

"I love you too."

He waits until he hears her phone unlocking, then he picks up his own.

"Santiago, you were under strict instructions not to call me. You and Peralta need time to readjust; we've got all of your work covered-"

"Actually, Captain, I just wanted some advice. Jake and I were talking, and…"

"And I said I wanted to get married. I wasn't planning it, but I meant it, because I love her, and now I think I've freaked her out. You almost did this once, and you've been through the same crap as me the last eight months; am I crazy? Is this stupid?"

"I mean, we've been together for almost three years, and I love him so much. We've talked about this before and we know it's what we both want-"

"But am I rushing into it? Am I pushing her?"

"Do I just want to dive in because I'm getting caught up in the moment? Is this totally reckless?"

"Did I just make a huge mistake? Is this exactly what you and Adrian almost did?"

"Jake. When Adrian and I almost got married, we'd known each other for three weeks. You've known Amy for seven years, and been in love with her for six years and three hundred and sixty-three days. It's not the same."

"Why do you want to marry him, Amy?"

"Why do you want to do this?"

"Because I love him."

"Because I love her."

"I can't think of a better reason."

"Stop being a nerd and get married already. Text me the time and location and I promise not to tell Charles you called me with this."

"Good call. Thanks, Diaz."

"Thank you, Captain."

"I'll see you there."

She emerges from the bathroom just as he hangs up. They look at each other for a second, both scared to break the silence.

"You call your mom, I'll call my parents, then you need to talk to Charles and he can spread the word to the others. Let me text my guy at City Hall and he'll get us a slot, then maybe the captain can get Kevin to get us a big table somewhere nice – unless we just go to the bar, and I'll need to get a ring – why are you looking at me like that?"

Jake's kneeling on the edge of the bed with a huge grin on his face.

"All of this sounds like a yes."

"It does, doesn't it?"

"If you need more time, I don't mind waiting-"

"Shut up, Peralta. I'm done waiting."

The chairs are perfection. The cake is Mongolian, chosen by Charles, not fishy or spicy, and surprisingly delicious. The bellinis are carefully rationed. The decorations are… not balloon arches. Their parents and their friends and their kids are all there, and Charles doesn't stop crying for eleven straight hours. Jake and Amy don't stop smiling for even longer.

They don't have another doubt between them. This is everything they've wanted for the last three years.

He's been out of town for three days, testifying in a court case, and it's the longest they've spent apart since 'Hashtag Sadness' (their code for Jake's time in prison). He's anxious to see Amy, as she told him on the phone that she hasn't been feeling great this week and he wants to make sure she's okay.

She's curled up on the couch when he gets in.

"Hey, babe, how are you feeling?"

He walks over and kneels next to her, tucking her hair behind her ear. She leans into the touch with a sigh, closing the book in her lap and smiling.

"Not so sick any more. Still tired. Also, um… excited. Ecstatic. So happy I could go right back around to puking again."

He looks utterly lost. "Is this some really specific virus that's going around, or…?"

She cups his jaw in her hand. "Okay. You're a detective. I'm going to give you clues." He's baffled. "I've thrown up every morning this week. I'm tired all the time. Last week I wept for an hour at a commercial for cereal." Some tentative excitement spreads over his features.

"No…"

"Also, there's a positive pregnancy test on the coffee table that's been there since you walked in."

He starts fidgeting as if he's ready to explode, touching her knee, her hair, her face – he kisses her again and again until they're both giggling helplessly.

"Are you sure? Seriously?" She nods, her eyes glistening. "You're amazing. You're a miracle. Oh my-" her looks at her still-flat stomach, "there's a person in there. A tiny bean of a person. Baby John McClane."

"So… you're happy? I mean, I know it's sooner than we expected-"

He slips his hand over her belly.

"Shut up, Santiago."

"Peralta-Santiago."

"Shut up, Sergeant Amy Peralta-Santiago. This is literally the happiest I've ever been in my whole life."

"Come on, squad, let's go bust him!"

Mia and Charlie look at their father disapprovingly.

"Daddy, we need to get a warrant first."

"And do we really have enough evidence to arrest him? Maybe we just need to bring him in for questioning, then we can build up more of a case."

Jake glares at Amy, who beams back at him, then says:

"Okay, how about we review what we've already got?"

They run back to the intricately plotted crime, evidence laminated and labelled meticulously.

"Well, Albert Windsor's fingerprints were all over the murder weapon, but it was his kitchen knife so that's not unreasonable."

"And the height and angle at which the victim was stabbed don't match up with the height of the suspect."

They planned to keep the twins away from murder and hard drug cases until they were sixteen, but they're only 6 and they can't get enough. At least they want to solve the crimes, not commit them.

"So," Amy joins in, "how do we proceed?"

They pause. Mia chews her bottom lip and Charlie looks to his father for a hint. Jake shrugs.

Amy gives them a clue. "The incident took place in the parking lot of a supermarket. What would the supermarket have?"

"Security cameras!"

"We check the surveillance footage!"

There are high fives all round, Amy tells them that the stabbing is just about visible, and they've got the right guy.

"Can we arrest him now, Mama?"

"Go for it. But don't forget to read him his rights, and don't go where we can't see you!"

Jake sits next to her on the bench as they run over to the climbing frame, bursting with excitement.

"Why aren't you going with them?"

"I wish I could say I was trying to help them be more independent, but honestly I'm pretty exhausted. As soon as you're done cooking this one, you're back on active duty with them." He rests his hand on her swollen stomach and kisses her cheek. "I want some baby time again."

"Am I sucking all the fun out of it? Should I ease up on some of the protocols and procedural stuff?"

"Are you kidding me? Ames, they love it. I never thought I would meet a single person who loved paperwork as much as you, then we made two in one go."

She turns to look at him properly.

"We're okay at this, right?"

He wraps an arm around her and pulls her close.

"We're great at this. I swear." They both let their eyes fall closed for a moment, feeling the tiny nudge against Jake's hand. "Okay, Robocop, you can join in all the games soon."

"Shut up, Peralta-Santiago. If we keep joking about it, it'll accidentally end up on her birth certificate."

He grins. "Besides, it doesn't really fit with- wait, where are they?"

She grabs his arm.

"Oh my god. Jake, where are they?"

"I just asked you that because I don't know! I can't see them! Right, call the Nine-Nine, I'll set up a perimeter-"

"STOP! POLICE!" They jump out from behind a hedge, Mia wrestling Charlie to the ground as she 'arrests' him. He's beaming, thrilled to be part of the action even though there's only two of them and he's always either the perp or the cop. He's so like his namesake, it's bizarre.

"Ah. Okay. Stand down, Captain."

"Copy that, Lieutenant. May have overreacted a little. It's cool."

"Cool-cool-cool."

"Cool-cool-cool-cool-cool."

"Okay, time to get back in there. Wish me luck."

"Good luck, babe." They kiss and he runs back into the fray, which has now turned into a stakeout for a big drug deal. She strokes the bump while she watches her favourite people in the whole world goofing around and laughing hysterically. "I'm sorry if I'm the boring one sometimes, honey. But Daddy is super fun, and you've got a whole squad full of… interesting aunts and uncles and their kids who can't wait to meet you. We've got the best family in the whole world." She sighs and smiles. "You know, because of a very bad lady, all of this almost didn't happen. You almost didn't exist."

The twins have Jake pinned against a fence. "You'll never take me alive!" He manages to duck out of their grip and run away, just slowly enough that they'll be able to catch him again in twenty seconds. She laughs at them again.

"I am so glad you're all here."

She hears crying and tenses immediately.

"Mama! Mama, My knee!"

Jake swoops down to pick up his daughter, Charlie providing siren noises as they run back over to the bench where Amy is already getting out the disinfectant spray and band-aids.

"It's okay, sweetheart, look, Mama's got you, and I've got…" he rummages in Amy's bag, "juice! We love juice! I'm sorry, Ames, she slipped-"

"No, it's okay, I should've been paying closer attention – hey, Mia, what's 8964 divided by 6?"

Mia, who had been on the verge of tears, frowns. "Huh?"

Amy smoothes her hair back, cleaning the cut quickly. "It's really important for the case, baby. Think hard."

"Mama," Charlie tugs at her sleeve, "can I fill out the accident report? Can I, can I, please?"

Jake hands him the grey book out of the bag and a pen. "Okay, buddy, tell me what to write."

They do all the paperwork, the forms only slightly dumbed down for 6-year-olds, with more space for crayon illustrations than the full version. Amy sticks the band-aid over Mia's knee and ducks her head down to smile at her.

"Okay, sweetheart?"

She's still frowning. "I think so."

"Can you wiggle your toes?" She can. "Can you pat your head?" She does. "Does it hurt if I do this?" Amy tickles the little girl next to her until she shrieks with laughter. "I think you're gonna be fine, my awesome little lady." They bump fists, and Mia snuggles into Amy's side. She looks at Charlie's excited face as he colours in the injury report, and smells Mia's hair where she's curled up next to her, totally calm now that she's with her mama. Amy lost count of the times she worried about this: that their kids would like Jake because he's fun and hate her because she's too sensible, that she would be all safety rules and carrot sticks and Jake would be the one they want to hold them if they're upset.

She still worries. She'll always worry. But then she'll get a moment like this and it'll all fall into place.

Jake reads through Charlie's report with a very serious face and nods slowly.

"I think we're gonna have to chop off that leg. Maybe both."

Amy feels a little guilty when they both chant "shut up, Daddy!" She should probably say that less in front of them, but she's never meant it once. They don't either, really.

"You're right. Daddy does need to shut up. Because our perp is on the move and we don't want to miss a single move he makes!" He rolls towards the sandbox and both kids copy him, Mia's knee forgotten as she and Charlie look back to see if Amy is impressed by their incredible detective work.

She's got the finest squad in New York.