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It took about two minutes after the ruling for Jake to come back to himself enough to know he had to turn around and hold his soft girlfriend before his wrists could be pulled into handcuffs. He wound his arms around her as tightly as he could with the barrier in between them and turned his head enough so his lips were brushing her cheek.

“I’m going to get you out of there, Jake.” Amy whispered, holding onto him even tighter.

“I know you are. I love you so much, Ames.”

“I love you too.”

-

Prison was boring. Sure, he had figured that after watching Amy work undercover so long ago, but how had not been prepared for this level of dull. Firstly, no one was interested in his cop stories. No one. Granted, that was probably related to the fact that cops had been the ones that had put these people in prison, and a good few prisoners were actually perps of the nine-nine’s, but nevertheless Jake’s go-to conversation starter was a bust.

The first thing he did when Jake was given his bunk was tape up the photos Amy had shoved into his pocket. The first was a selfie Jake had taken one evening a few months earlier while they had been watching reruns of The Office. Jake had been reclining on the couch and Amy was tucked under his arm, sitting between his legs in a pair of old sweatpants and one of his plaid shirts. Her hair was pulled up in a messy bun and Jake remembered looking down and seeing his girlfriend, his favourite person in the entire world, looking so relaxed and content, and Jake wanted to capture that moment forever. Of course, Amy wouldn’t let him just take a photo of her. In the picture she was caught mid laugh, looking at the camera, while Jake was entirely focused on her. He was almost embarrassed of the way he was looking at her like she had hung the goddamn moon, his nose buried in her hair and lips pressed to her temple. The second photo she had put in his hand was a photo of her – like he had asked for – that he had taken on Christmas morning. She had an elf hat he had made her wear perched lopsided on her head and one of his old hoodies. Her knees were tucked up against her chest and he could see the Teenage Ninja Turtle pyjamas she was wearing that he had given her the day before. She was smiling at him radiantly, too caught up in the spirit of Christmas to make him join the picture.

“Who’s that?”

“What?” Jake was so caught up in memories that he had been completely unaware of the man now sitting on the edge of his bed. He was old, frail, and lanky, looking like a light gust of wind could blow him over.

“That girl.” The man explained, nodding at the Christmas picture now taped to the wall.

“Oh. She’s…” Jake didn’t know what to say. Amy’s his girlfriend, sure, but she’s so much more than that. She’s his partner, his best friend, the most important person in his life. She’s what he thinks of when he hears the word love, the word home, the word happiness. She’s the girl of his dreams, and he’s going to go back to their apartment soon and eat bad Thai takeout and watch Netflix because this is just all some nightmare, even though it’s not, because he can feel the springs of the mattress, the draft in the room, and the scratchy fabric of the jumpsuit against his skin. “Her name’s Amy.”

The man gave him a calculating look. “She’s your girl, then?” Jake nodded, taping up the second picture, not wanting to say anything in fear of bursting into tears or telling this man just what Amy was to him. “She’s pretty.”

“She’s the most beautiful person in the entire world.” Jake said immediately before he could stop himself.

The man nodded slowly. “I’m Brent. Looks like we’re cellmates.”

Luckily for Jake, his first day only ended up being about four hours before lights out. The only person he had spoken to was Brent and the man serving dinner in the mess hall. Since Rosa was at a women’s prison, the one thing that he had held on to – having one of his oldest friends locked up with him – was gone, too.

That night, he lay on the hard mattress under scratchy sheets and stared at the ceiling. Throughout most of his life, Jake had been the little spoon in his relationships. The first time he and Amy fell asleep together, though, they were too tipsy to cuddle. When Jake woke up the next morning to roll over and see her, it was frankly rather adorable. She got so cold so easily, so she was curled up with her knees touching her chest and the blanket pulled up to her neck. Eventually, Jake stayed over at Amy’s place after watching TV late into the evening. That was the first night the two of them consciously organized themselves in bed. Jake was familiar enough with Amy at that point that he knew what she was like when she slept. So, for the first time in a long time, Jake was not the little spoon. Amy’s skin was so soft and she seemed to be able to sleep in any position as long as she was warm that Jake found himself holding her as he would a teddy bear when he was a kid. It was a different kind of comfort and safety he felt, holding her tight against his chest with her head tucked under his chin. After long days and during the cold winter months, he’d fall into bed and pull her on top of him, tucking the blankets around them until they were a Jake and Amy burrito in the middle of the mattress.

Now, he was alone, getting ready for the most uncomfortable sleep of his life without Amy’s warm body providing any sort of reassurance.

It sucked.

-

Amy Santiago was pissed off. Just when it seemed like this whole ridiculous ordeal was turning around for the better, another wrench was thrown in and knocked them down. After months of fighting and searching for any evidence that would prove her boyfriend and one of her best friends was innocent, it took one liar she had brought onto the stand to solidify the jury’s decision. And now her boyfriend was grasping at her uselessly, and Amy knew he was terrified. Just before he was dragged away, she managed to shove the photos he had made her pick up on their way back from the farm as a desperate just in case that Amy never suspected she would need into his hand, watching him crumpled them up into a fist.

She didn’t let herself cry. She didn’t have time to wallow in self pity and desperation. Of course, Amy wanted nothing more than to go home and scream into her pillow, but she knew that if she went home right now, Amy could not avoid the impending anxiety attack, being forced to deal with everything alone in a space full of Jake. She needed to be working, needed to be busy, to get through it, because she didn’t have Jake or Rosa to help her get through it this time. As she drove the police cruiser back to the station with Gina in the passenger’s seat, Amy contemplated telling her. Jake was an important person in her life, too – a childhood best friend, and Amy knew she needed someone in an emergency. Usually, it had been Jake, whom she had on speed dial since their second year of partnership. When he was undercover and in Florida, Amy started to call Rosa instead. Now, she needed to start anew.

“Hey, Gina?” Amy said, trying to keep her voice from wavering. She kept looking at the road, afraid to watch Gina’s reaction. “I was wondering… um…” She paused and cleared her throat. “Never mind.”

“Jake told me about your anxiety.” Gina said in a soft tone Amy had never heard directed at her before. “So I got you, kay?” Amy nodded, not wanting to risk speaking. The rest of the drive continued in silence.

-

“You should go home, Amy.” Amy looked up and saw Terry staring down at her, a concerned and sympathetic look on his face.

“I know.” She replied, going back to her work.

“Come on, Amy.”

She took a deep breath and turned her body to face him. “I can’t, Terry. I can’t because I know I’m going to see the sneakers he forgot to put away and put his toothbrush back in the holder because I know he left it on the counter and I’m going to have to move his pyjamas off the bed because he just throws them on it every morning even when I ask him to put them in a drawer.”

“You have an extra set of clothes in your locker, right?” Terry asked after she finished her spiel and looked away. Amy nodded. Ever since Jake forced them to spend forty-eight hours in the precinct, Amy figured it would be better to have some back up clothes and contact solution. “We have an extra futon in our office at home. Just spend the night with us. You need to sleep, Amy.”

Amy woke the next morning to Cagney and Lacey watching her with confusion and curiosity.

“Hey, girls.” She said groggily, rubbing her eyes and sitting up.

“Hi, Amy!” They said together.

“What are you doing here?” Cagney asked, sitting on the futon beside her.

“Where’s Jake?” Lacey added, climbing up to sit on the other side of Amy.

She paused before speaking, gathering her thoughts. “Jake got in trouble with a bad police officer, and your daddy let me stay here because I was too tired to got home by myself.”

“Why is Jake in trouble?” Lacey continued.

“The bad police officer told everyone that Jake and Rosa robbed a bank, so your daddy and I are trying to show everyone that they didn’t.”

“Because you love them.” Cagney didn’t word it like a question – she seemed to be simply stating a fact.

“Yes. I love them so much.”

-

Jake realized pretty quickly that talking about himself wasn’t going to get him anywhere with these people. Instead, he talked about Amy. It was clear they took less offense to her being a cop, and Jake realized eventually that he wasn’t telling badass cop stories starring Amy Santiago, but memories. He talked about the time she set her oven on fire and by the time they found the fire extinguisher the oven was destroyed and his birthday cake was ruined. How she has a billion pillows and every night they had to take them off the bed and every morning Amy puts them back on and Jake still isn’t sure how she manages to make pillows look beautiful. By the end of the first week, Jake realized that the other inmates knew more about Amy than they did about him. That was immediately supported when she was finally able to visit and three different guys knew who she was before she even saw Jake.

“Hey, Jake.” Amy said, and Jake almost cried. It had been so long since he had heard her voice, and the glass window between them only served to remind Jake that he couldn’t hold her hand and drive home together.

“Hey, Ames.” Jake replied. “How’s it hanging?”

Amy rolled her eyes and ignored the question. “How are you doing? For realz.”

Jake sighed. “No one wants to hear my cop stories.”

“That’s really not a surprise.”

“I don’t have any other material!”

“Come on, Jake, you know that’s not true. Have you just not spoken to anyone yet?”

“Well…” Jake started, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly. “I talk a lot about… well… you.”

“Me?” Amy asked skeptically. “What about me?”

“Not much. Just, you know, everything.”

Amy rolled her eyes. “I’ve been working on the case. I also ruined our microwave heating up leftovers because I forgot to take off the tinfoil again.”

“God, I love you so much. How’s everyone else doing?”

Amy shrugged. “They’re okay. Rosa is doing fine, she’s just angry. Everyone misses you guys so much. It’s been pretty hard for them.” Amy paused. “It’s been tough for me too.”

Amy was so strong. She was one of the strongest people Jake knew, and Jake knew a lot of people. He knew that if she broke down, he wouldn’t be able to handle it. “Yeah, I know. It sucks big time. Some of the guys here have seen the photos you gave me and think you’re super hot. I can’t defend your honour because they can probably kill me. Sorry about that, babe.”

Laughing, Amy’s hand twitched as though to reach forward and grab his. “It’s okay, I get it. You have to keep your head down and not get hurt, okay?”

“Okay.”

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”

-

Amy decided it may be best to try and start from the beginning. Holt appointed her primary for the investigation, and brought in two temporary detectives to pick up any slack. Amy hardly spoke to them – she tried to convince herself it was because she had Boyle working as secondary and there was no time to contribute to idle chit chat, but deep down, she knew it was because every time she saw them it was just another reminder that Jake and Rosa weren’t here. Amy had delayed cleaning off Jake’s desk until Holt pulled her aside and firmly reminded her that there was a temp coming in the next day. Now, there was a box labeled “Jake” in the corner of her closet at home, full of useless knick-knacks and random sheets of paper Amy didn’t know what to do with.

That was the first night that Gina came over.

It was shocking, to say the least, to see Gina when she opened the door to her apartment.

“Hey, Gina.”

“I thought you might need some company or something. You looked kinda down at work.”

Amy was both touched and wary. Gina did not really have a history of being kind to Amy, so her presence was a million red flags. Amy had always wanted to be friends with Gina, but it never seemed like they connected at all. Right now, the last thing Amy wanted was to have her come in and insult her doilies and make fun of her dinner.

“You didn’t need to come here.” Amy said, though she opened the door and stepped back to let her in anyway.

“Yeah, I did. You’re my friend, and we need to get through this together, alright?”

Amy had never forgotten that Gina was close friends with both Rosa and Jake, too, but she had never expected that Gina would care enough about her to want to be with Amy.

“Thanks, Gina. Do you want anything?”

The two of them sat on Amy’s couch late into the night, binge watching Game of Thrones and eating Cheetos. Both avoided the topic of their friends in prison for the time being, and instead talked about Gina’s baby. She ended up crashing on Jake’s side of the bed that night, and Amy slept better than she had in a long time.

Organization was where Amy shone. She was a planner, she was careful, and she could examine evidence meticulously when given the time. There was no immediate threat, as the robberies ceased after Jake and Rosa were apprehended, so the only thing encouraging her was releasing them. Amy spent three days, while the rest of the squad focused on other cases, reorganizing all the evidence and filling in every single gap with anything that was said by Jake and Rosa and during the trial, as well as full backgrounds on all of Hawkins’s squad. By the end, she had taken up half of the back wall of the briefing room with the most careful and organized evidence board the squad had seen. When the Figgis case was ongoing, it was spread out over such a large area that many precincts were working together, so there was less time and collaborated information for Amy to create such a board. Now, it was just the nine-nine.

She directed Boyle to go back and interview witnesses from the robberies that were proven to not be connected to Jake and Rosa, while Amy decided to focus on alibis. During the two months they had preparing for the case, the nine-nine’s work had been desperate. They had focused more on providing evidence for Jake and Rosa’s innocence, so Amy tried to take a different path. She needed to prove Hawkins and her squad as the perpetrators.

It became something of a ritual for Gina to come over every few nights, for both their sakes. It was clear that Gina didn’t want to admit it, but she missed Jake and Rosa just as much as Amy did. Amy would invite her over when she could see Gina’s gaze lingering a little bit too long at Rosa’s old desk, and Gina would make an appearance when Amy had a particularly stressful day at work.

“Hey, Ames.” Gina called, opening the door with the key Amy had not bothered to take back after she stole it. She meandered into the living room, flopping down on the couch and picking up the TV remote.

“Hi, Gina!” Amy came out of the kitchen with a bowl of chips and two cans of diet coke. Gina’s cravings had been changing a lot, but she seemed to consistently be craving diet coke, so Amy bought a pack of twenty-four she stored on top of the cans of orange soda. She sat down beside Gina, passing her the can of soda and placing the chips on the coffee table. “What’s up?” Gina had been slightly removed at work, and it was Amy that invited her over.

“Do you have a lot of experience with babies?” Gina asked, popping open the can.

Amy chuckled. “I have twelve nieces and nephews. I spent a lot of family dinners rocking babies and had four pregnant sisters-in-law. I know a little bit.”

Rolling her eyes and grabbing a handful of chips, Gina said, “Well, I don’t know anyone except Sharon, and that was a nightmare. And I don’t have any of those family things.” There was a lingering silence while Amy waited for Gina to continue. “So, I was kinda hoping you could, ya know, help me through it?”

“No problem. I would love to.” Amy said, grinning.

“Great. Do you have any pickles?”

Episodes of Friends played in the background while Amy and Gina talked for hours. After so many years of trying, Amy was finally forming a friendship with Gina, and it was fantastic. Finally, once it hit midnight, Amy shut off the TV.

They got off the couch and made their way to Amy’s room. “Your pyjamas are on the chair.” Amy pointed at the wooden chair in the corner of the bedroom, where a pair of pyjamas was folded neatly. Once it became clear that these nights weren’t going to stop, Amy went out and bought some things for Gina. Now, she had her own toothbrush, shampoo, and a drawer Gina was slowly filling with changes of clothes. It felt extremely domestic, and with Gina sleeping on the left side of the bed, Amy’s apartment felt a little less empty.

They visited Jake and Rosa together sometimes, and Gina took a photo of Jake’s face every time he saw Amy until Amy finally admitted that “heart-eyes emoji” was the best possible description of the expression he wore.

Gina agreed that it wouldn’t be in anyone’s best interest to lead Jake or Rosa on with the case. Progress was being made, but the last thing Amy wanted was to make a promise and have it just end up being evidence that leads no where.

Given the circumstances, it seemed like Jake and Rosa were doing moderately well. Of course, they had no desire to actually be in prison, and constantly asked about the progress of the case, but they seemed to be keeping their heads down, for the most part.

-

It was a warm morning when Amy made a breakthrough. Well, she had presented a breakthrough. Amy knew better than to get anyone’s hope up with a case such as this one. Over the past few weeks, she had been gathering information on the alibis, and was now complete. It had been exhausting work, following credit records and withdrawals from bank accounts to relate to what they had claimed to have been doing at the time. Since Rosa and Jake claimed that Hawkins was present at all robberies, given their own deductions, Amy decided to focus on her alibis.

- Fifteen days earlier -

“Thank you, sir. Have a great day.” Amy said, hiding her giddiness as she hung up the phone. One of Hawkins’s alibis didn’t check out. On the day of the first robbery, she had claimed that she was staying at a hotel in Chicago, and had a hotel receipt as proof.

Amy, however, called the hotel, and they informed her that the key to the room had never been taken out, and the room went unused through the entire booking. Hawkins’s credit card bill showed she had purchased a coffee at a café in Brooklyn six blocks away from the bank that was robbed three hours later, the morning she claimed to have checked out of the hotel, and it is not possible for her to have been there at that time, as there was no evidence of a plane ticket that would have flown her in.

- Nine days earlier -

Hawkins had claimed that, at the time of the second robbery, she had been seeing Hamilton on Broadway, and she had presented the ticket to the jury. Amy managed to get her hands on the ticket, and borrowed Gina’s from when she saw it at Christmas to compare.

There were no periods between the P.M. on Hawkins’s ticket, and the serial number is meant to show, in order, the year, month, day, and seat, along with the code for the show. The code on Hawkins’s ticket was wrong – obviously, she had chosen random numbers when making the fraud ticket, not knowing that they would be constant for all those attending the show.

Not to mention, a simple Google search confirmed that the only show that day was starting at 6:00PM, giving Hawkins ample time to participate in the robbery that was committed at ten in the morning.

Another alibi disproven.

- One day earlier -

The third and final alibi was the home stretch for Amy. She had been on a roll since her last find, and had hardly slept since. Gina had forced her to go home every night and Charles had put sandwiches on her desk when she wasn’t looking. It took three days for her to realize this – she had just been eating them without wondering where they came from.

When she went to the kitchen to refill her coffee cup, she heard the two temps talking quietly. It was so rare for her to leave her desk during actual break times – usually she went to fill up on caffeine when the kitchen was empty – that she felt like they didn’t even notice she was there.

“I think she was banging the Peralta guy.” The one that sat at Rosa’s desk said.

“How do you know? Did someone say something?”

“Nah, it was something they said at the bar yesterday.”

Gina had forced Amy to come out with them the night before. Amy hadn’t really been socializing with the squad much, and she figured it would be good for her to get out of the precinct for a while. By then, the squad was a little more open to talking with the new detectives, and near the end of the night, after Holt, Terry, and the detective that sat in Jake’s place left, the other four got on to the topic of captains.

“The nine-nine has had four Captains since I’ve been here.” Gina told the new guy.

“Five, actually.” Charles corrected with a sly grin.

“What? We had McGinley, Holt, The Vulture, and C.J.” Gina said, counting them off on her fingers.

“Remember? We had Dozerman for, like, two days.”

“Two days?” The temp asked.

“Right!” Gina said as Amy put her head in her hands. “How could I have forgotten him? Holt got promoted so we got Dozerman.”

“And the next day Jake and Amy killed him!”

“What?” The temp looked shocked before looking at Amy. “You killed him?”

“No! We startled a man with a chronic heart condition.” She corrected, her faced flushed with embarrassment.

“They were Frenching in the evidence locker!” Charles said, sounding gleeful.

The temp opened his mouth like he was about to say something, but the bartender interrupted. “We’re closing now! Pay your tabs.” With that, the four dropped their money on the counter and went their separate ways for the night. For the first time, Amy fell asleep with a small smile of a memory.

Amy had not realized that she wasn’t vocal about her relationship with Jake. Looking back, his desk had been cleared by the time the new detectives arrived, and most conversations involving Jake were discussed in a way that makes sense for them being partners on the field. It’s not like anyone in the precinct was going to openly tell temps intimate details about Amy’s relationships. It was almost relieving to know that people hadn’t associated her and Jake as romantic partners – it kept the case more professional and with less accused bias.

“Wonder why. From everything I’ve heard, Peralta was a cool guy, while Santiago is just…”

“Uptight? Maybe she’s just really good in bed. A friends-with-benefits thing.”

They both laughed, and Amy took that as her cue to interrupt.

“Hello, Detectives.” She said, and both of their heads shot up and eyes widened. “Having a good break?”

“Fuck,” Rosa’s temp said under his breath, “Sergeant, I’m-”

“Alright boys, here’s the deal. I can’t stop you from gossiping and spreading rumours – it’s not in anyone’s best interest to have you demoted at this point, and hiring new detectives is a waste of everyone’s time here. But if you could please refrain from discussing your colleagues’ personal lives in the workplace, that would be fantastic.” Amy paused, wondering if she could be petty. Honestly, she was sick of this kind of sexist treatment. It was so ridiculous that immediate assumptions made were blatantly rude to her while complimentary to Jake. Amy had been through too much in the last few months to let something like this slide. So, she ground her teeth and made a decision. “And when my boyfriend gets released from prison, we’re spending the next three days in our bedroom while you go home to your left hands and cheap pornography. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have legitimate investigative work to do.”

Gina was grinning madly at Amy with her cell phone out and recording when Amy turned away from the slack-jawed expressions on the temp’s faces.

“Oh, my god, were you filming that?” She asked in horror.

“I got the whole convo, girl! This is defs going on YouTube.” Gina responded, already headed back to her desk. “I’m also taking the rest of the day off to visit Jake!” She called back over her shoulder, and Amy rubbed her temples in exasperation.

Amy went back to her desk and checked the numbers again. Hawkins’s third alibi stated that she was shopping at a Costco in Manhattan during the time of the robbery, and she presented a receipt as evidence. Amy, however, had gotten a hold of the Costco security cam, and spent an entire day going through all the footage of the entrance. She concluded that, of course, Hawkins had not gone to that Costco, however she did see a man from Hawkins’s squad enter around the same time Hawkins’s alibi stated she was there. A great cover-up, of course. It was clear that the man simply used her card to obtain the receipt.

After compiling the evidence into a neat binder and preparing her presentation to the squad, it was reaching seven pm, and everyone else had gone home. With a sigh, she grabbed her car keys and drove back to an empty apartment.

Present Day

“I have news,” Amy started after the squad was seated in the breakroom, facing her wall of evidence. “About the investigation. As you know, I’ve been working on examining Hawkins’s alibis for the last few weeks, and I think I’ve come to a conclusion.”

With that, Amy began her explanation, trying to keep it concise despite her own excitement – they were finally getting somewhere!

“Though Hawkins’s alibis were strong at face value, she put less effort into solidifying them, as she obviously knew we would not have been focusing on this aspect during the preparation for our trial.” Amy concluded, trying to contain her own glee.

“Amy… you did this?” Asked Terry, staring at the board, “All by yourself?”

“Well, yeah. This case is so big, and there aren’t many of us to work on it.” Amy replied.

“Santiago, this is some fantastic detective work. I am outstandingly impressed by this evidence you have presented. I will call Peralta and Diaz’s lawyer, and he can come and tell us how this will hold up in court.”

“Oh, my god, Amy, you did it!” Charles sounded so excited, and Amy beamed back.

“I’m gunna go tell Rosa… Amy, go talk to your boyfriend.” Gina said, and Amy grinned.

-

Jake couldn’t stop smiling. Amy had been so wrapped up in the case recently, she’d hardly had time to see him. But when Gina stopped be earlier, it made the waiting worth it.

“Girl, you gotta check out this vid!” She said before Jake could even speak.

“What?” Jake asked, confused.

“Here, check it out.” Gina pressed her iPhone to the glass window and cranked the volume.

Two people Jake had never seen before were standing in the precinct kitchen, and he could see Amy watching them off to the side.

“… banging the Peralta guy.”

“How did you know? Did someone say something?”

Jake watched in disgust as the two men talked about his girlfriend like she was a piece of meat. He saw the annoyance on Amy’s face grow, looking at them from their blind spot as though they were shitty high school boys.

When she spoke up, Jake was elated. He saw their faces fall and looks of horror take over, until Amy said,

“… And when my boyfriend gets released from prison, we’re spending the next three days in our bedroom while you go home to your left hands and cheap pornography. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have legitimate investigative work to do.”

“Holy fucking shit.” Jake said in awe when the video ended. “That was… oh, my god.”

“It was hilarious! The temps haven’t looked at Amy since, when I was leaving they were giving her a ten metre radius.”

Once Gina had gone home, nothing could stop Jake from feeling elated. During free time the next day, one of the guards approached him.

“There is an Amy Santiago here to see you, Peralta.”

Amy was looking at her phone when Jake sat down across from her.

“Ames, holy shit! That was so amazing!”

“What?” Amy looked alarmed, her eyes wide.

“You just basically wiped the floor with those temps!”

Jake watched her drop the phone and groan. “I can’t believe Gina filmed that.” Her cheeks were flushed with embarrassment and Jake thought it was the cutest thing ever.

“Babe, it was totes awesome. And I can’t wait to spend three days in our bedroom.” Jake waggled his eyebrows, grinning widely.

“That is definitely not why I came here, Jake.” Amy said sternly, though Jake could see the smile pulling at the corner of her mouth.

“Then why are you here?”

“I found out some stuff,” Amy started, her eyes lighting up with excitement, “About Hawkins.”

Jake almost fell out of his chair. “No way.” He said breathlessly.

“Way. I think I managed to at least disprove all of her alibis for the other robberies. The lawyer is coming by the precinct tomorrow to decide whether or not it’s enough to hold up in court. But, please don’t get your hopes up, babe. We can’t know for sure yet.”

“Amy, that is amazing. You are so amazing. Did you… do that all by yourself?” Amy nodded, clearly trying to rein in her pride. “You’re the best. Did you know that? The absolute best. This is such a great step forward.”

“I know. I really think this is going to help us out big time. Even if it’s not enough for court, it’s definitely something we can work with. I love you so much, Jake, and I can’t wait to get you out of there.”

“I love you too, Ames. I know you will.”

-

“This is amazing evidence, and we definitely should have it to back up our court case, but I think we need more. Anything to directly relate Hawkins to the robberies. This is the first step, we just need to get further proof to convince the jury. They were very clearly on her side when she was labelled as an amazing cop, so we need to prove she’s dirty.”

Amy had suspected that outcome, but it still was a punch in the gut when the lawyer confirmed it.

“Thank you for your time. We will be in touch.” Holt said, dismissing him from the precinct. “Sergeant, what’s the next step you plan to take here?”

“I think we should-” Terry started.

“The best course of action-” Amy said at the same time.

“I’m sorry, Jeffords. I was speaking to Santiago.”

It was rare in the precinct for Amy to be called by her official title – mostly because of confusion like this. She didn’t mind, of course, but hearing confirmation from Holt and being treated as someone in control of the situation was empowering. She shot Terry an apologetic look, but he only grinned back, obviously proud.

“Thank you, Captain. As I was saying, I had suspected this outcome. So, I have already started compiling some ideas to get this evidence. I believe we need to access any and all video footage from the Slaughterhouse. Jake and Rosa talk us there was at least one camera in their interrogation room, and the location is set up as a police headquarters, so legally, upon construction, there needs to be constant monitoring. The problem is, I am sure Hawkins was smart enough to disable any camera footage. Jake and Rosa’s footage of them ‘interrogating’ Adrian was deleted by Hawkins. But, we have access to some very talented hackers that may be our best option to retrieve footage.”

“How are you going to do that?” Charles asked, eyebrows creased.

Amy sighed. “I’m working on that.”

-

It takes three minutes to knock someone unconscious with the use of chloroform, which was more than enough time for Amy to regret every decision she has ever made. She had only ever been chloroformed twice before – once when she was a beat cop and didn’t hear the perp approach her from behind, and the other happened on one of her first high profile cases with Jake, when she was snapping the cuffs on one perp while the other, she had thought, was unarmed and injured behind her. Both of these times, the minutes she spent thinking about how much it sucked, she still knew that someone would be coming for her. This time, she opened her unlocked front door after she brought her trash around to the back of the building and a large hand covered her mouth with the cloth while a burlap bag was pulled over her head, obscuring her view, and Amy was very much alone.

Years of training brought her immediately into fight mode, but it was obvious Amy was outnumbered and outmatched. Her hands were quickly tied behind her back in tight knots and her kicking legs were brought roughly together. The voices of the people holding her down were starting to sound far off and garbled, and bright lights were popping in the corner of her eyes. From her count, she had about ninety seconds of consciousness left. She tried to speak through the cloth, but the hand holding it in place was firm and unforgiving.

Amy hated feeling so out of control. She hated the fact that she knew she couldn’t do anything – her body was growing too weak to fight through the knots and her mind was hazing up and confusing her. She couldn’t even decipher anything her captors were saying. Finally, the world went black.

The first thing Amy comprehended was a splitting headache. It felt like Terry had used it as a punching bag, and her throat felt parched and raw. Amy supposed she had been unconscious for about 20 minutes, but she knew she would be almost completely useless for another half hour. Amy remembered that after she got chloroformed with Jake, she had spent twenty-five minutes in the passenger’s seat of his car, trying to re-orientate herself. Chloroform was extremely effective this way, and Amy hated it.

There were no voices in the background, and the only noise was the hum of an air conditioner somewhere behind her. Amy’s eyes were too heavy to open, and when she peeked out, the light from the fluorescent bulb over her head felt like she was staring into the sun. So, she had nothing to do other than try to think about how the hell she was going to get out of here with hazy thoughts and a pounding head. At that moment, she felt absolutely useless. It was around seven pm when she was taken, and she wasn’t due in to work until eight the next morning. Gina had no plans to come over, and Amy saw no reason for anyone else to call or stop by. So, she was by herself for at least twelve hours.

Her silence was broken forty minutes later, when Amy was orientated enough to learn that her hands and legs were tied very tightly to the metal chair that was drilled into the concrete floor of the small, windowless room. The only other object in the room seemed to be a plastic lawn chair. There was a camera in the left corner near the door behind her, which was bolted shut with two different locks. Basically, for someone with a massive headache that was disabling some motor skills, there was really no escape. It was a very well thought out room.

“Well, well, well.” A recognizable voice said from behind her. Amy felt the draft of the open door, but it was slammed shut before she could will her body to turn around. Hawkins walked around Amy and sat in the lawn chair, her elbows resting on her knees as she looked at Amy as though she was an interesting specimen in the zoo. “If it isn’t Peralta’s sweetheart.”

“Good evening, Lieutenant.” Amy said, ignoring the insult.

“I’m pleased to see you have some respect for your superior officers. Now, do you know why I’ve brought you here today, Sergeant?”

Amy tried to sit taller in her chair, but the headache was making it difficult to move. “I’m guessing it has something to do with the disproven alibis. I wouldn’t put it past you to have known about those.”

“You’re smarter than you look, kid. And, yeah, you guessed right. I want to talk to you about that.” Amy didn’t speak, but instead attempted to stare down Hawkins. Despite how many times Amy had discussed this woman, this was the first time she had seen her up close. She reminded Amy of Rosa, though Hawkins was harder around the edges and lacked the compassion Rosa tried to hide. “How did you find out? Those alibis were airtight. They went unquestioned by the jury. So how did some newly-minted Sergeant with almost no credentials come to rat me out?”

“Because, Lieutenant, I’m a goddamn detective.”

Hawkins’s mouth twisted into a menacing smile and stood up, caressing Amy’s cheek as though she was a naïve child, before walking out the door.

Amy tried to stay awake, but eventually the pounding headache and lack of caffeine caught up to her, and she dozed off into an uncomfortable sleep on the metal chair. She was out pretty bad, because when she woke up her hands were instead cuffed in front of her and there was a plate of food and a water bottle on the lawn chair beside her, just within her reach. Despite being pissed at herself for not waking up when she was being touched during the night, Amy was relieved to see water.

After what felt like hours, the door opened again.

“Hey, kid,” Hawkins said, coming to stand in front of her. “I think you get the point now, so I’m going to take you upstairs to meet the rest of the crew. And I know you won’t try anything, sweetheart, because I can easily pin a crime on you just like I did your idiot boyfriend and bitchy co-worker.”

Amy knew better than to defend Jake and Rosa – right now, she really, really needed to get out of this small space. She had been hiding it pretty well, but the concrete walls and her locked limbs were starting to make her claustrophobia rear its’ head. Instead, she went with Hawkins willingly, allowing herself to be led up the stairs and into a large, open room. She was shoved into a chair beside a large computer and handcuffed to the desk.

“I know you won’t move, because you are outnumbered and outmatched here.” Hawkins said, and Amy looked around and did a head count. Hawkins seemed to be the smallest person in the room, the rest being moderately to Terry-esque bulk men. Amy wondered if Hawkins had hired them as detectives or as muscle. “So, you’re going to stay here with Juan, and you’re going to walk him through exactly what you did to disprove my alibis. And, if you don’t, there is a shipment of pure cocaine and samples of methamphetamine that needs a truck driver, and I think you would be a great fit.”

Juan didn’t seem too pleased to have Amy beside him. Amy supposed he had better work to do than to follow steps Amy had already completed. Amy really couldn’t blame him. She probably wasn’t the best company anyway.

“Alright, here’s the deal. You and I are going to work here to imitate your process, because the boss can’t have this happen again.” Juan said, hardly looking at Amy. From the way he spoke, Amy gathered he wasn’t too keen on Hawkins. That seemed unsurprising – Hawkins had hardly acknowledged him. Once the computer screen lit up, Juan looked at Amy directly. “What was step one?”

It had taken Amy weeks to compile the evidence, so, four days later, she was still talking Juan through the processes. Amy knew that, by now, her squad should be looking for her, but Hawkins was no idiot, and Amy figured wherever she was had to be very well hidden. Besides, there was no real evidence that could pin Hawkins as the kidnapper – it would be speculation on the squad’s part, and given her role as a sergeant, they would not be able to cut any corners in this investigation.

For the first few days, Amy had been watched like a hawk. Eventually, the security started to lax slightly, especially when her body started to fade from a lack of calories and fatigue. Hawkins clearly didn’t have any qualms with mistreatment of NYPD sergeants, and Amy was feeling very weak. As far as she could tell, Hawkins was feeding her the lowest amount of calories possible to remain functioning enough to talk and think, but hardly enough for motor movement. The lack of food was making her extremely tired, and she spent a lot of time pinching herself awake whenever Juan asked a question.

The security treated her roughly, and she knew her body was starting to bruise from the constant shoving and her frequent falls, many of which happened as she was getting out of her chair. They rarely helped her up, so Amy spent a significant amount of time under the computer desks, nursing her head where it had hit the edge of the table and shuffling backwards to try to gain enough purchase on the tabletop to stand. Each night, she rolled up her sleeves and saw where the guards had gripped her arms too tightly.

Mornings were the worst. The guards, instead of just nudging her awake, would generally kick her in the ribs until she rolled over, clutching her chest while they grabbed her arms and pulled her up. Soon enough, Amy was pretty sure a few of her ribs were at least cracked, and her body was tender from the bruises.

Hawkins wasn’t around super often – Amy assumed she spent more time in the Slaughterhouse, to avoid any questions as to why she was so frequently missing. When she was there, however, it was almost terrifying. She was the best villain Amy knew – an unforgiving, smooth talker with perfect plans and a heart of coal.

“Hello, Amy.” Her voice felt like sharp knives scraping down her spine, making her hairs stand up on end. As the days had gone on, she had grown more and more scared of Hawkins. Amy was not quite prepared for what she was actually capable of doing, and it was so much more than she had imagined. Amy did not want to know how she treated people that weren’t of use to her.

“Hello, Lieutenant.” Amy said, trying to keep her voice from shaking both in fear and hunger.

“I’m just stopping by to let you know – Chief Garmin read over the case file for the bank robberies and personally came by my headquarters to congratulate me on my service to the force.” Hawkins said with a sinister grin.

Amy closed her eyes briefly, trying to hold back the anger rising up in her stomach. “Congratulations. You must be very proud in your accomplishment to manipulate your superiors so thoroughly. I’m glad your talents aren’t going unrecognized. It will be great to see another person in the courtroom appalled by what you have done and how you have toyed with them. Because, Lieutenant, I will not stop until my friends are free.”

The slap to her face was not unexpected.

The seventh morning, after a significant amount of time on the floor pulling herself back up, she was very close to finishing her explanation for the first alibi. Eventually, Juan took a break around noon to grab his lunch and do his business, and Amy heaved a sigh of relief. It was going just fine, at least, until she dropped her pencil. By this point, her body was almost shaking every time she exerted energy, and she had spent longer than usual picking herself up off the floor. Amy just wanted to sleep.

Juan came back from the bathroom with a large plate of food that started to make Amy’s mouth water. “Here. We’re almost done, this is an early celebration before the boss gets back tonight. Don’t tell her I did this, okay?” Juan said, putting it down in front of her. Amy nodded, and started to eat. She knew better than to eat quickly, so instead she paced herself, legs swinging lightly as she ate mashed potatoes and carrots. It was heavenly.

Juan had almost finished the last of his computer work when the screens across his desk went black with error signals. In the chaos, Amy worked quickly, just managing to complete the last of her efforts before Juan ducked his head under the desk, looking for any explanation.

It was pandemonium when the security realized what was happening. Juan was freaking out – it seemed like most of the technology in the room was on the fritz, meaning security cams, data pools, and all of his work was suddenly black. In the mayhem, one of the guards uncuffed Amy and pushed her near the room where she went to sleep during the night, locking her to the door handle.

Amy was not an idiot. She felt her sock to make sure the hard drive was still there and worked on opening the handcuff locks. Amy was an NYPD sergeant who grew up with seven brothers. She knew exactly how to pick NYPD grade cuffs. It helped that she had snaked the guards’ key ring.

The rest of the time was a blur. Someone had pulled the breaker to try to stop any sort of electric surge, as no one knew what had happened, so the room was lit by emergency lighting. Amy knew how cops were. They reacted instantly, assuming the worst possible scenario. This was exactly what she had expected as she shuffled across the floor in an army crawl underneath chairs and desks until she reached the main doors, where she used the keys to open the lock. As soon as she was outside, she was sprinting to the nearest road. Luckily, Hawkins logic seemed to involve hiding in plain sight, and Amy was only a few blocks away from a Costco parking lot.

As she hotwired the nearest vehicle (a trick her brother Andre had taught her in high school, despite how many times she informed him that it was illegal and their dad was a cop) and drove back towards Brooklyn.

Amy’s plan had gone significantly more smoothly than she had expected. She was working with hypotheticals for how everyone would have reacted to a missing hard drive, and it was a pretty great reaction for her. The process of slowly unscrewing the hard drive casing with a butter knife she took on the first day was much trickier, especially when she only had a few moments under the desk before she had to stand without looking suspicious.

The safest place for her right now was the precinct – she figured Juan and the other people in the building wouldn’t be to keen on telling Hawkins about the computer crash and then her disappearance, when they finally noticed she was missing.

It took much less time than she had thought for her to make it back to the nine-nine. Amy didn’t even look at who was in the bullpen, simply dragging herself out of the elevator and leaning on the gate, the adrenalin from the escape starting to wear off, and a week of malnourishment and fatigue was setting in again. With a deep breath, she raised her hand slightly, the hard drive clenched in her fist, and said, as loud as possible with a voice she hadn’t used much, “I got it.”

Gina was the first person to see her. “Amy?”

Immediately following Gina’s outburst, Holt appeared out of his office. “Santiago? Oh, dear.” He rushed forwards through the bullpen and grabbed Amy before she could fall, leading her to the couch in the breakroom and kicking off Scully in the process. Amy sighed, lying backwards on the cushions, and took her captain’s hand to drop the hard drive into it. Before anyone could even speak, Amy was dead asleep.

-

“Welcome back to the land of the living, girl.” Gina said when Amy finally awoke with a groan.

“How long was I out?” She asked, her voice raspy as she slowly sat up.

“Mmm, about sixteen hours.” Replied Gina, checking her phone.

“Sixteen- it’s four in the morning?” Amy asked, incredulous.

“Three thirty. We look after you in shifts. Everything is super intense. It’s wild.” Gina sounded excited.

Amy was about to roll her eyes when she suddenly remembered. Opening her mouth, she fished out a small device from under her tongue. “Here, Gina, give this to Holt.”

“Ewwwww, what is that?”

“Microphone. I recorded a bunch of conversations on it. The entire time I was there.”

“That is so gross.” Gina said, standing. “I’m going to go get Holt.”

Amy lay back down on the couch, microphone clutched firmly in her hand. Sixteen hours was a long time, and it Terry had hired the hackers like Amy had asked, hopefully some progress could be made from the computer databases.

“Santiago.” Amy sat up slowly and nodded and Holt as he walked into the room and sat on the chair Gina had vacated.

“Captain. Is Terry-”

“Jeffords and Boyle are currently checking on the hackers to see what they have uncovered so far.” Holt cleared his throat. “Santiago… Amy. You have done some amazing police work here. The NYPD is immensely lucky to have you as a sergeant.”

If Amy wasn’t absolutely exhausted and not in a rush to convict the woman that had kept her prisoner for the last seven days, she probably would have fainted in joy. Instead, she smiled at the captain. “Thank you, sir. That really means a lot.” She was about to raise her hand – to salute, maybe, or try to shake Holt’s hand, when she remembered the microphone clutched in her fist. “Oh! Captain, I have this as well.”

“What is it? Holt asked skeptically, analyzing the small, slobbery object Amy had dropped in his hand.

“It’s a microphone. A Homeland Security officer gave it to me when we were chasing down those convicts in January and I never used it.”

“So… you were recording? The entire time?” Holt asked in disbelief.

“I held it under my tongue. I got the idea from Rosa’s blade she showed us before court.”

Holt looked at her in disbelief for a moment, before looking over his shoulder. “Gina! Please bring me my laptop computer.”

In no time at all, Amy, Gina, and Holt were surrounding the captain’s laptop, waiting for seven days of audio files to download.

The elevator opened across the bullpen and Terry and Charles’s voices could be heard. “Amy?” Charles shrieked from across the bullpen. “Oh, Amy, it’s so great to see you alright! We were so, so worried about you!” Terry and Charles rushed into the room, grinning with relief. Ever the hugger, Charles stepped forwards and carefully wrapped his arms around her, panicking when he felt Amy wince. “Are you hurt?”

Amy shook her head. “Just a little banged up.”

Terry rested a hand on her shoulder, and smiled down at her, a flurry of emotions on his face before he smiled softly. “I’m so proud of you, Amy.” There was a ding from Holt’s computer, distracting Amy from replying. “What is that?” Asked Terry, standing behind Holt to look over his shoulder.

“Santiago managed to record an ongoing audio record of her entire time in captivity.” Holt said, scrolling through the page.

“It makes recordings in three hour intervals. Hawkins first saw me at about the two hour mark, but when she came back about four to five hours later, she confessed.”

“Wait.” Gina said, holding a hand up as though stopping everyone. “You’re telling me that you got a damn confession?”

Everyone was looking at her in various levels of shock, and Amy nodded modestly. “Yes.”

In no time at all, Holt had reached the conversation.

Hawkins’s words were muffled slightly by Amy’s breathing, but her voice was clear and impossible to misinterpret.

“Hey, kid. I think you get the point now, so I’m going to take you upstairs to meet the rest of the crew. And I know you won’t try anything, sweetheart, because I can easily pin a crime on you just like I did your idiot boyfriend and bitchy co-worker.”

There was a pause, and in the background noise slowly increased from the once silent background. This time, it was slightly more difficult to hear was Hawkins had said.

“I know you won’t move, because you are outnumbered and outmatched here. So, you’re going to stay here with Juan, and you’re going to walk him through exactly what you did to disprove my alibis. And, if you don’t, there is a shipment of pure cocaine and samples of methamphetamine that needs a truck driver, and I think you would be a great fit.”

“Oh, my god.” Gina said quietly. Terry’s jaw dropped open ever so slightly and Charles let out a high-pitched squeal from the back of his throat.

“We should get this to Chief Garmin immediately.” Holt said, standing up.

“No!” Amy interrupted. “I mean, Hawkins told me that Garmin came by to congratulate her on the case. I think we need to bring together a little bit more evidence to make sure he believes us. Terry, how far along are you with the hard drive?”

“They said about six more hours should bring up some decent footage.”

“Alright. So we have six hours to put together a file with all our information and evidence, as much as we can to win over the Chief. I don’t think he’d be willing to give us many more chances to try to convince him that one of his best officers is a fraud.”

“If you believe this is the best course of action, Sergeant, then we will follow your lead.”

Six hours later, with Amy in charge, the squad managed to create the most beautiful case file any of them have ever seen. No one was surprised, of course, but everyone was impressed. Before they could take a break, however, the hackers arrived.

“Are you guys done? Did you find anything?” Charles asked, stepping forward.

“We don’t think they did their dirty work at their buildings or whatever, because it’s just boring videos of them doing police work. There are a few shots of the lady snorting coke, though.” The first one said, showing Charles the computer screen.

“Oh. Well, it’s okay, we can add that and-” Amy started.

“Wait. We found something else.” Another hacker interrupted. “We found a bunch of plans and stuff. Like plans to break in and steal shit.”

Gina was the first one to snap out of shock. “Kay, so we have a verbal confession, false alibis, and the damn plans? Oh, my god, we won!”

Before Amy could turn and high five her, the third and final hacker spoke up. “Yeah… that’s kinda not everything. One of the plans is a break in for 1:15am. Like, tonight.”

Amy stepped forward. “So, we have thirteen hours to stop another break-in? But they know by now that we have the hard drive. Wouldn’t they stop this?”

“Look, lady, this shit was super hard to uncover. And these plans have taken about seven months to complete. They hired, like, fifty different people for this. I don’t think they’re gunna stop.” The hacker passed Amy the laptop, and she started to scroll through this.

“We need to get this is Chief Garmin. Now.”

-

“I’m sorry, the Chief isn’t in right now. He is at a conference out of state.”

Holt groaned, and Amy knew what he was about to succumb to. “May I speak with Madeline Wunch?”

“She is also away at this conference.”

Amy rubbed her temples. “Ma’am, is there anyone with jurisdiction that can give us permission and resources to raid this building on Wall Street?”

“I’m sorry, there are no available employees present today.”

Holt looked exasperated. “Can anyone else see why this is extremely problematic management for a police department in one of the worlds’ biggest cities?”

The secretary looked tired. “I will submit your complaint.”

-

“What did he say?” Charles bounded out of his seat the second Amy and Holt stepped out of the elevator.

“He, along with everyone else in the department with jurisdiction, is currently away at an out-of-state conference.” Amy answered angrily, marching towards her desk.

“Seriously?” Terry asked, incredulous, as he stood. Amy just sighed, dropping into her desk and rubbing her temples. When she looked up, she saw, with a jolt, that the temps were in the room. Amy wasn’t sure what they were up to, but she figured it was working on the cases left unattended as everyone else was working on Hawkins. The temp in Jake’s desk looked alarmed, and Amy figured it was because she was suddenly back after a week-long absence, looking bruised, exhausted, and angry. She tried to give him an encouraging smile, but it came across as more of a grimace. Distantly, she could hear Charles, Terry, and the captain discussing the issue, and Amy just wanted to cry.

The chair beside her desk pulled out, and Gina sat down. “Don’t worry too much, boo. You’re the best cop here. You know what you gotta do.”

Sighing, Amy looked over at her. “Yeah, I know. How are you feeling?”

Gina rolled her eyes. “I’m fine. The baby’s kickin’ something fierce, though.” She rubbed her belly lightly. Amy smiled.

“Well, what do you expect? That baby’s going to be a dancer, just like their mom.” Gina put her hand over Amy’s on the desk, and Amy squeezed back. They stayed there, suspended in time, while everything else buzzed around them.

“Come on, girl. I know you want to go make some badass plans here.”

“Thanks, Gina.”

Within minutes, the entire squad, including Scully, Hitchcock, and the temps, were gathered in the briefing room. Gina, too, sat off to the side, smiling at Amy encouragingly.

“I know this is not the best situation, and I know technically we aren’t allowed to do this, but the nine-nine has to take matters into our own hands. The building on Wall Street will be broken into tonight and it’s up to us to stop it. We have ten hours to prepare for this thing, but I know we can do it. Nine-nine!”

“Nine-nine!” Everyone echoed back to her. Amy beamed.

It was eleven pm when the squad was gearing up to leave. Gina approached Amy as she was holstering her gun.

“Hey, I need some help liftin’ something from the evidence locker.”

Amy was a detective. She knew Gina never really needed anything. In fact, Amy couldn’t even remember a time when Gina did any actual work. Nevertheless, she nodded and followed.

Gina closed the door behind them and took a deep breath before turning to Amy. “You gotta be safe out there, girl, because if you’re not, I’ll have to deal with Jake moping around for the rest of his life. And… this baby needs a godmother, and that can’t happen if she’s dead. Kay?”

A smile slowly grew on Amy’s face. “Alright then. I won’t.” Then, Gina did something completely unexpected. She opened her arms, stepped forward, and hugged Amy tightly.

She cleared her throat. “That was from Jake.” Gina said, though her voice was rough.

“Tell Jake I said thank you.” Amy said, squeezing Gina’s hand.

The ride to Wall Street was quiet. Everyone was in their own heads, preparing for the raid. Boyle had already left the precinct, along with Terry. The temps were sitting in the back with Amy and Holt, clearly nervous.

“Hey, guys,” Amy said, leaning forwards to speak to them. “It will be fine.” She didn’t want to promise too much, but the small reassurance seemed to help some. The boys gave her nervous smiles in return, some of the tension lifting off their shoulders. “We all know what we’re doing.” With that, Hitchcock pulled the van over to the curb.

“You sure you don’t want me and Scully to come with? We have some great moves we’ve been working on.”

“Not necessary.” Holt said, exhausted. “Just stay here and keep us notified on any changes in the plans, alright?”

Amy and Holt got out of the back of the van. “You sure they can handle that?” Amy asked quietly as they closed the doors.

“I disabled their radios. They’ll be fine.” Holt said, a hint of a smile pulling at the corner of his mouth.

The four of the made their way towards the building. Wall Street was dark, with only a few stragglers walking around this late. It was midnight now, and Amy knew the alarms had now been disabled. Across the street, there was a dark van parked. When they made it to the building, they split up, Holt and Rosa’s temp – Johnson, Amy finally remembered – making their way towards the back entrance, and Amy moving towards the side, followed closely by Andrews.

Amy crouched down beside the vent, working quickly while Andrews scanned the area around them, keeping watch. In no time at all, the vent popped open, and Amy shuffled her way inside. Andrews followed behind her, taking care to pull the vent back into place firmly from the inside.

The two of them were wearing less gear than Holt and Johnson – it was hard to crawl through vents in the first place, and doing it will full gear was impossible. They were protected with Kevlar, of course, and thick, tight clothing, but aside from that, they were pretty vulnerable.

Amy had climbed through vents before, but it was Andrews’s first time. He was doing well, keeping very quiet, but Amy was more concerned for his mental state. If he panicked, it was all downhill. She knew he was still wary of her, even so long after the break room incident, but at least now there seemed to be some form of respect that was crucial for this operation. They shuffled slowly, slinking through the building as quietly as possible. Finally, they reached the ladder.

It was a stroke of luck that the vents led to the elevator repair ladder. From there, it was a completely inconspicuous climb to any floor of the building. Unfortunately, Amy was headed to the 22nd floor. With a deep breath, she grabbed the rungs and started to climb.

At the nineteenth floor, Andrews stopped and started to open the gates. It was quarter to one, and Hawkins and her squad should be getting into position outside. Mentally wishing the temp luck, Amy continued to climb. It was exhausting work, and her hands felt like they were on fire, even under the grippy gloves, but she forced herself to power through. By the time it hit 12:56, she was at the gate. At 1:09, she was in position.

“Everyone ready?” She whispered into her earpiece. There was a chorus of “Yes” in her ear, and Amy took a deep breath. She felt like now would be a good time to say something cool, something badass. She thought about what Jake may say before stopping. She wasn’t Jake – she was Sergeant Amy Santiago, cool, collected, and awkward. “Nine-nine in da house!” Immediately, she sighed and put her head in her hands. She tried.

-

The one problem with the plan, Amy thought, was that she had nothing to do other than strain to hear what was happening on the other floors for a full thirty-five minutes. She hoped to god everything had gone according to plan so far. Some of these ideas were so quickly composed, she was very, very worried for her squad. They only had a few hours to prepare, and Amy hoped to god it was enough. All in all, the plan was pretty simple. Disarm as many people as possible without the rest of Hawkins’s squad noticing. They had followed their plans closely, and knew that people would be set up on the sixteenth, nineteenth, and thirtieth floors – the thirtieth for escape routes, the sixteenth for surveillance cams, and the ninetieth for back-up, as well as people sticking to the first floor as look out. Hopefully, Johnson and Holt had disarmed them when they had followed the squad in through the emergency exit doors. Boyle should have first disabled the cams to put them on loop so the nine-nine wouldn’t be seen on any other floors, then disable the three men from behind. She hoped he managed to remove the constricting janitor’s uniform before doing so. Terry, on the thirtieth, should have already taken apart the pre-set escape lines connected to the next building over, and was hopefully ready to take down the men coming up to make the final touches. If the others failed, it was up to Terry to disarm anyone else that came to the roof. Amy was very worried for him. Meanwhile, Andrews was on the nineteenth floor, waiting for Hawkins and her muscle to go up to the twenty second floor to access the mainframe computer, where the information of bank accounts from thousands of wealthy New Yorkers was stored.

At the twenty five minute mark, Holt’s voice filtered through Amy’s ear. “Clear on first floor.”

Heart pounding, she waited for Boyle’s update, who should be next in line. Five minutes later, he echoed the captain.

Now, all she had to do was wait for Andrews’s warning. At 1:52, Andrews spoke, panting with exertion. “Sixteenth is clear. They’re on their way up.”

Amy took a deep breath and switched off her ear piece. She couldn’t have any distractions for this, and she could only pray that Terry would be alright.

From where she was crouched behind the completely unnecessary grand piano, Amy could hear everything. She was in the Head of Finances office, run by a well-dressed and completely arrogant man in his late thirties. He had a Ph D. in engineering and economics, and he could manage the digital system connected to every single computer in the building like a master, with complete understanding of the numbers and data shooting across the screens. Thanks to Hawkins set-up, the alarm for the office was already disabled when Amy entered, giving her ample time to set up a false alarm of her own. It was easy enough to do, with some quick training from the hackers and a couple test runs through the precinct’s alarm system.

The elevator doors opened with a ding, and Amy had to admire Hawkins’s boldness. She was so well prepared for this event, running the electricity of the building was hardly an issue. Amy hoped that would be her downfall.

So when she pushed the office door open with the same casual flow as one pushing open their own front door, she was definitely not prepared for the resonating alarm shrieking throughout the floor.

“What the fuck?” Hawkins swore loudly, turning to her partner in obvious anger. “What the fuck is this?”

“I… I don’t know. Vega said he disabled the alarms-”

“Well, clearly, he didn’t.” Hawkins said, putting her hands on her hips. Her partner looked down in shame. Amy wasn’t sure why – it was obviously not his fault. “Well? What are you waiting for? Fix it!”

Just as Amy had hoped, Hawkins turned to make her way slowly through the room, not watching as her partner turned towards the alarm system. Therefore, Hawkins did not witness Amy leap up and cover his mouth with a cloth, before swiftly knocking him unconscious with the butt of her gun. As he eased the significantly larger man to the ground silently, she could hear her heart pound over the noise of the false alarm. As soon as she set him on the floor, she cuffed him, stuffed the cloth in his mouth, and stood to face Hawkins.

“What is taking you so long?” Hawkins asked angrily, turning around, only to stare down the barrel of Amy’s gun.

“Put your hands on your head where I can see them.” Amy said, trying to sound calm. Despite the rush of energy she had gotten from her long rest and full meals, Amy’s body was still weak, and she knew that Hawkins knew that. Amy just prayed she would be too busy staring at her gun to remember.

The shock on Hawkins’s face slowly turned into a malicious, shark-like smile. “Well, well, well. I’m honestly impressed. I knew you weren’t going to find any video footage off of the hard drive you stole – nice work, by the way. Though, you did force me to fire my entire security force and head of technology. I am shocked to see you somehow managed to get through to the plans.” Hawkins started to pace, and Amy tightened the grip on her gun. “I suppose you’ve won now, hmm? You have all the evidence to put me away and get Diaz and Peralta out of jail.” Hawkins took a step forward.

“Don’t move.” Amy said instantly, raising her gun higher. Hawkins just chuckled.

“I visited your apartment, you know.” Hawkins continued conversationally. Amy wished to god she could just arrest her on the spot, but given her current state of health, she would go down pretty hard in a fight. “Nice place, though Peralta seems like a disaster to live with.”

Amy ground her teeth. She knew that Hawkins was just trying to get a rise out of her, throw her off her game, but Amy refused to let that happen.

“Honestly, even just talking to the idiot was exhausting. I don’t see what the big deal is about him, aside from the arrest records. Sweetheart, you deserve so much better than him.”

“Shut the fuck up.” Amy had heard this stupid argument too many times – from her brother, from her dad, from Jake himself. And she was fucking sick of it. “You don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about. Now, hands on your head. Don’t make me count to three.”

With the speed of a well-trained NYPD officer, Hawkins whipped out her gun from the holster on her hip and shot at Amy. Without hesitation, she dove back behind the piano, narrowly avoiding the bullet.

The fury coursing through her veins was the only thing keeping her on her feet. She had come too goddamn far to go down in a shoot-out in a Wall Street office. If she died crouched behind a decorative grand piano, Amy would never forgive herself. She rolled out and shot in Hawkins’s direction twice before hiding again. Bullets chipped the side of the piano where her head had been moments earlier. Hawkins was going for the fucking kill.

It was a stupid slip-up. A millisecond of hesitation. When Amy turned again to shoot, trying to stabilize her gun and go for accuracy over speed, she saw a flash of regret in Hawkins’s eye, and it had infuriated her so much that she had forgotten to pull her goddamn trigger.

Hawkins didn’t have such an issue.

The pain in her side where the bullet ripped through the soft flesh above her left hip bone felt like fire. Back behind the piano again, she pressed her hand to her side. The sight of her own blood made her queasy, and the way it was dripping onto the floor beneath her was making Amy’s head spin.

That was when the bullets stopped hitting the wall behind her. Amy heard Hawkins swear softly.

She had to reload.

Suddenly, Amy didn’t regret her neglection to pull the trigger (the pain in her side said otherwise, but Amy elected to ignore that problem for now).

Amy felt like an action movie hero when she rolled out from behind the piano in a perfectly executed forward roll and shot with such speed and precision, Hawkins had no time to react. Instead, the Lieutenant fell to the ground, clutching her leg and groaning at the pain of the shattered bone. Diving forward, Amy cuffed the NYPD officer, something she had never thought, in all her years as a cop, she would ever have to do, and stuttered through the Miranda rights.

Falling backwards in exhaustion against the wall, Amy flipped on her earpiece. “I got her.” She said, her breathing slightly ragged. Amy looked up into Hawkins’s blazing eyes, brimming with uncontrollable tears of pain. “Yippee ki aye, motherfucker.”

-

Amy didn’t remember passing out, but when she opened her eyes, she was on a gurney in the streets, sirens and lights surrounding her. There was an IV in the crook of her elbow, replenishing the loss of blood from the bullet, and a paramedic working on bandaging her side.

“Amy!” Amy looked up to see Terry rushing towards her.

“Terry? You’re okay.” Her voice was scratchy but relieved. “Is anyone else hurt?”

Terry shook his head. “We’re all fine, Amy. You did it.”

Amy was loaded into the ambulance with a relieved smile on her face.

Gina was the first person to push her way into Amy’s room. “Oh, thank god.” She breathed out quietly upon seeing Amy’s open eyes. “You did it, girl!” She dropped gracefully into the seat beside her bed. “And you only got a little bit shot!”

Laughing, Amy squeezed her hand.

“Yes, Amy, we are all quite proud of you.” Looking back towards the door, Amy saw Captain Holt enter, and Terry and Charles push their way in behind him. Outside, Amy could vaguely see the other four detectives milling around the hallway.

“Thank you so much. When can I get out of here?” Gina rolled her eyes, and Holt tried to look stern.

“In my own opinion, you should stay here for the next day at least for medical treatment for both your bullet wound and poor health following your time held prisoner. However, the Commissioner has… other ideas.”

“The Commissioner?” Amy asked, confused.

Charles seemed to be bursting at the seams. “You’re getting a Medal of Valour! And he wants you to lead the press conference this afternoon!”

Amy’s head spun with excitement and surprise (and probably some blood loss), and she grinned at her squad.

“Guys… we did it.”

-

“I fold.” Jake said, dropping his cards. Travis smirked at him from across the table and pulled the collection of pop can tabs and gum wrappers towards him.

“You’re not very good at poker, are you, Peralta?” He asked with a laugh.

“I’ll have you know-”

“Jake!” Jake, Travis, and the other inmates playing poker turned to see Brent rushing towards them. “It’s your girl!”

“Amy? Where is she? Is she okay?” Jake asked in a rush, fearing the worst. He hadn’t seen her in weeks, and Terry said something extremely vague about her going undercover.

“Yeah she’s – just come see!” Jake and the other poker players followed Brent, who was strangely speedy for his age, into the rec room, where the TV was broadcasting the news.

“Oh my god.” Jake whispered.

“As you can see, Lieutenant Hawkins and her squad have been apprehended early this morning, by Brooklyn’s ninety-ninth precinct. Let’s join Sergeant Amalia Santiago in her current press conference.” The news broadcaster said, and Jake felt like he was floating on air.

“Sergeant! How did you know Hawkins was behind the string of bank robberies and online thefts?”

“We have suspected this for over six months now and have been working to prove the testimonies presented earlier this year by Detectives Diaz and Peralta.” Amy was standing at the podium of the room, surrounded by journalists. Jake saw, to his horror, a significant bruise colouring her left cheek and medical paramedics on standby behind her. Despite this, she looked cool and collected, and Jake had never been prouder.

“Why did you believe Diaz and Peralta, despite the substantial evidence that was presented against them during their trial?”

“I trusted Diaz and Peralta’s testimonies as someone who has worked alongside both detectives for many years. I trusted their judgement completely, despite any evidence saying otherwise, and this judgement proved to be correct, given the arrests made early this morning.”

“Does this mean that Diaz and Peralta can be released?”

“The evidence my squad and I have uncovered so far gives us a sound argument against the jury’s previous charges. I believe that once this evidence has been presented in court, Detectives Diaz and Peralta will be released. It is clear, at this point, that they were victims, not culprits, of the crimes.”

“Sergeant! We have messages coming in from our viewers now. This broadcast has been seen by millions, and many are wondering if you’re single!”

Amy looked completely appalled. “Seriously?” She said, losing her professionalism slightly. “I just spent six months taking down an extremely prolific bank robber and am receiving a medal of valour for this case, and people are asking me if I’m single? It’s 2017, can you please stick to questions with substance here?”

“That’s my girl.” Jake said in awe, and he felt a few of the inmates hitting him on the back.

“We have reports that you and Detective Peralta have been engaged in an affair for the last two years. Does this current relationship with Detective Peralta provide any bias to your judgement?”

Jake could see Amy was clearly refraining from slamming her head against the podium in annoyance. “As I have said before – I have worked with Diaz and Peralta for many years now, and this bond is the reason I did not trust the jury’s ruling from the court case. I have refrained from any professional bias thus far, and my motivation for this case can be related, in part, to ensuring that two innocent people are not forced to spend the next fifteen years in prison, wrongly accused for a crime they did not commit. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a case to complete.”

“Well, you heard it here, folks,” The news broadcaster said, cutting away from the image of Amy exiting the stage. “Detectives Rosa Diaz and Jacob Peralta should be released within the next two weeks, and Sergeant Amalia Santiago will be receiving a medal of valour for her bravery and sacrifice.”

-

Amy was so wrapped up in the case – after all, she had been the primary for the entire investigation – so Jake had yet to see her since her press conference. Terry and Holt had been dealing with press coverage when Amy was unable to, so Charles was Jake’s main visitor.

“Amy’s doing great! She says hi.” Charles said before Jake could even speak.

“Is she injured?”

“She got shot, but it didn’t need any surgery or anything. She finished the arrest before she called in medics, and they were pretty upset about that. She also may have gotten a little bit kidnapped.” Charles added quietly.

Jake’s heart dropped. “On purpose?”

“Kinda, yeah. She’s healing okay, just a few cracked ribs and some bruising. Mild concussion. They didn’t really rough her up too bad.” Charles tried to reassure him.

“She’s so stubborn.” Jake said, his voice laced with both exasperation and fondness. “When’s the trial?”

“Given the magnitude of the situation, the trial is in two weeks, so you don’t have to wait here for three months or something ridiculous like that.” Charles assured him.

“Thank god. How’s Rosa?” It sucked that Rosa had been immediately sent to a women’s prison – he had lost one of his closest friends as well, and he had no way of communicating with her.

“She’s doing great! She’s so proud of Amy, just like you.”

“Yeah, I got all the guys here totally impressed by her, too.” Jake said with a grin.

“So, you didn’t make any new best friends in prison, right?”

Jake grinned. “No one could ever top you, buddy. Besides, everyone here kind of hates me. I did help put some of them in here. Now, give me the full deets on this whole kidnapping thing that Terry told me was ‘undercover work’.”

-

When Jake was finally released from his handcuffs, the very first thing he did was pull Amy into a hug and swing her around with strength he didn’t even know he had. The buzz of people around him dimmed as he finally felt Amy’s hands on his face for the first time in months.

“Fuck, I love you.” He said, and he was almost embarrassed by the breathless quality of his voice.

“I know.” Amy said with a twinkle in her eye, and Jake hauled her towards him and kissed her like he hadn’t been able to do in months.

He spent the rest of his time in the courtroom with Amy ‘s hand tight in his, and even then, he felt cold without her pressed to his side. They had been separated far too many times now, and Jake was not about to let her go, not when he wasn’t faced with a man trying to kill him or the fact that Amy was actually dating someone else upon their time reuniting. Now he was free and had no responsibilities for the immediate future and he just wanted to drag his girlfriend home and spend the next three days never letting her go.

It wasn’t until late that evening, when everyone started to leave the bar, that Jake could finally go home. Amy entered first, flicking on lights and hanging up her coat. Jake followed suit, relishing in his ability now to hang his jacket on the hook beside Amy’s and put his shoes on the shoe rack with the copious number of sneakers just begging to be worn. When Amy turned around and asked if he wanted anything before they went to bed, Jake knew what he was going to do. It appeared, as soon as he took a step forward, that Amy knew too, because she got that small smile on her face that Jake loved.

Kissing Amy was one of Jake’s favourite things to do. In public they were relatively chaste – Amy was not one for PDA, and Jake didn’t quite enjoy the idea of them being stared at during any sort of intimate moment. Now, however, he had Amy backed up against the wall, one hand clasped around her wrists and pinning them above her head while the other dipped under her shirt to skate across her bare skin – the soft skin that Jake had dreamed about touching again during lonely nights in a prison cell.

When Amy’s voice breathlessly whispered his name as he nipped at her ear and lavished the soft skin behind it, Jake couldn’t take it anymore. He lifted her, now working on sucking bruises onto her collarbone, and took her to their bedroom to fall onto the soft mattress he had missed so dearly and fuck on floral patterned sheets that smelled like Amy’s shampoo. They fell asleep just the way Jake loved it – with Amy sprawled over his chest and his arms wrapped around her soft skin, holding her like a teddy bear he was never going to let go.

Jake was still in the process of getting reinstated, and Holt had given Amy time off after working tirelessly on the case, so both slept in the next day. Jake finally woke to bright sunlight streaming into the room and something tickling his chin. For a second he was confused – he had grown so used to dark mornings like by an industrial lightbulb and feeling cold and tired, it took a few moments for him to start to remember. The warmth around him came from the thick blanket Amy bought last winter and Amy herself tucked into his side, her hand curled on his chest. It was her hair that was tickling him, and he reached up to run his fingers through the short silky locks. She had gotten her hair cut a month after he was convicted, and it had looked so sleek and feathery he had ached to touch it. Now, he had all the freedom in the world.

Inhaling the scent of her shampoo and tugging her even closer, Jake closed his eyes and drifted back to sleep, content and safe for the first time in far too long.