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Jake had been to the Ninety-second enough times that he didn’t need to ask for directions. He did however have to ask Boyle to go ahead so he could make his dramatic entrance. He waited a few minutes, enough that Boyle could introduce himself as the new Sergeant (working on my Lieutenant exam!). The previous Sergeant had resigned in disgrace, along with the previous Captain of the Ninety-second, leaving two open gaping spots, just in time.
He turned to face the door, placing his cap jauntily over his hair before trying again, putting it on the same way Deputy Commissioner Holt wore it.
The doors slid open and Jake stepped into pandemonium.
A pair of beat cops looked to be asleep by the holding cell, a group of detectives were engaged in what looked like an argument with Boyle, who was looking offended.
Jake took two steps towards the mess and none of them looked up, he could hear distinctive annoyed comments like “douchebags from the nine-nine” and “why not promote from within?” And “Captain Salt was the best Captain I've ever had!”
“Yeah but he stole 60 kilos of cocaine and let a sex worker OD under his watch.” Jake finally butted in, “while Lieutenant Kroger helped him run a drug ring.”
The lot of them scattered back, standing up straight as they did so. Every single one of them were dressed in business wear, not a single one in a t-shirt or leather coat among them. They were like a group of Boyles and Santiagos.
“Well,” a tall blonde guy who looked the Santiagoist of them all started, “we didn't know about that.”
“Huh, if only you were a detective.” Jake shot back, “briefing room, ten minutes.”
“You can't be our captain! You look 30!” Another one, a tiny J-crew model, said, clearly lacking a filter.
“I am the second youngest captain on the force-” and I'm totally banging the youngest “so think on how awesome and amazing I must be to get to captain while I'm still young and hot.”
Jake struck out across the room, Boyle falling in step behind him, Jake couldn’t resist turning to the various detectives who were watching him cross the room, “Spoiler alert, the answer is a lot.”
Two hours later, after attempting to corral all the detectives into the briefing room and keep the attention of all the beat cops, Jake found himself angrily unpacking his office, nearly snapping the only wedding photo he deigned to put on his desk (four drink Amy hugging him from behind at their wedding, it looked like she was just hugging her brand new husband who happened to be wearing his widest smile, only Jake knew that she’d been promising to do some truly filthy things to him moments earlier). He had sent Boyle to divide and conquer, one of the bright eyed beat cops had mentioned some foodie blog so Jake figured that was an in for Boyle.
Jake started pulling the other random crap out of the box when a detective-that he’d already renamed Vulture Junior- strolled in and plopped herself in the chair that was set up in front of his desk.
“What can I do you for, Detective Connor?” Jake asked, doing his best to put his best foot forward.
“I just gotta say, everyone might be talking shit about you but I'm just happy they didn't send over the bitch from nine-nine.” She said as she put her feet, one right after another, on his desk, the toe of her boot nudging the edge of his wedding photo.
“The bitch of the nine-nine?” No one could be that stupid. All of Brooklyn knew about him and Amy, they were practically royalty.
“Yeah, what's her face, captain Santiago-” the girl out on an accent while saying Santiago, which great apparently she's racist too, “-the one who has been banging a lieutenant from her own precinct for a decade or whatever.”
So apparently she did know about them, she just didn't know it was him. Instantly his brain switched over to be a dick mode.
“Really? A decade?” He lowered his hand in the box but didn't pull anything out. Pretty much all that remained were knickknacks and items that shouted 'Amy Santiago is my wife!'
“Yeah apparently they used to work cases together and get into fights about their relationship-” happened once in 13 years but okay “-and I heard they killed their captain for walking in on them -” that one was totally on genetics “-and they had a kid 8 months after they got married.”
“Twins. They had twins. A boy and a girl. They were premature but they came out okay. I know for a fact that they were conceived on their wedding night.” Which he did, because that was the only night they had slipped up. Kids weren't in Amy’s 5 year plan at that point. She wanted to wait til she made captain to have a kid which he had been totally on board with.
“What's your source?” Connor asked cagily, as if scenting a story.
“Well Captain Santiago- wait didn't she change her her name?” He asked, and Conner didn't smell the trap.
“Yeah she and her husband hyphenate. Apparently they just flip their names around. No one told them how lame it is.” She rolled her eyes and Jake grinned, grabbing the last essential item.
“Let's just say my source is very close to Captain Santiago-Peralta.” He placed the name sign on the edge of the desk. He stuck a little post it note that said “Captain” on it a week before when he’d been promoted and now it read “CAPTAIN PERALTA-SANTIAGO”
The stunning detective finally put two and two together, her eyes drifting to the photo of his wedding day before back to his name placard.
“Oh no.” She said a little quietly and Jake couldn’t help but grin widely.
“Oh yes.” Jake responds before lowering himself into his desk, putting one foot up after another, as Connor’s feet drop to the ground. “You can show yourself out, Detective, I have some Captaining to do.”
By the end of the second day Jake has figured out a few key things. Connor is a wannabe vulture and failing hard. The Santiago boy is more like a Boyle boy in a prettier package, weirdly enough his last name is Charles but by then Jake was already calling him Charles Junior in his head (Junior for short). Junior’s best friend is a childish show off who doesn't appreciate him, a detective named Rebecca Becker. She spent a chunk of the second morning parroting everything he said and Jake has the strongest urge to buy Holt all the beers in the world (and Charles too, because seeing how Becker treats Junior makes Jake feel a little guilty. Just a bit.) there's detective Stone, who was clearly in the crime loop with the old captain and lieutenant. And by the morning of the third day Jake discovers his entire office spun around to face the wall.
“Did I not apologize enough for something?” Jake asked holt by way of greeting as he stormed into Holt’s fancy deputy commissioner's office. “Is this about Cancun? Because I've apologized and-”
“Captain Peralta, can you not see that I am currently in a meeting?” Holt gestured towards the room and saw Amy clutching a binder to her chest with the kind of wide eyed look of shock he usually saw when she was sneaking a cigarette. Terry sat next to her frozen like a deer in headlights. His eyes flitting between the Holt and Jake.
“This isn't a meeting, it's just Terry and Amy-” he put on an exaggerated gasp “-are you guys forming a band- without me?”
Terry said no with a quick snap of disappointment as if he wouldn't be caught dead singing with anyone else, just as Amy excitedly said yes. Terry and Holt turned towards her and Amy sank into her seat.
“Noooooo, no bands here,” she said, looking at Holt for guidance. “We’re planning the twin’s Bar and Bat Mitzvahs?”
“They're 9, that's 4 years away.” Jake was definitely the world’s best detective and something was afoot.
Holt for his part just pretended nothing awkward had just happened. “What do you want Peralta?”
“A new precinct! Mine is the devil- is this because I sang Careless Whisper at your wedding?” For illumination Jake pointed to the frame photo collage of the Holt-Cozner wedding reception that took place several years after the actual wedding. The photo that he had pointed to was actually a photo of Holt and Kevin standing next to each other with the entire 99 group surrounding them with their arms in disarray and Gina laying across the bottom like a French girl to be drawn. He didn't actually point to the photo of him at the mic in the top corner because even Jake could feel second hand embarrassment over his past actions.
“Actually Kevin quite liked your rendition. He found your take interesting.”
“Oh really-”
“That was not an invitation to repeat the experience, may you please get to the point.”
“My precinct is full of suck ups and crooked cops, I'm supposed to be coasting! Amy got a precinct that basically runs itself-”
“Hey!” Amy shot out and Jake quickly waved a hand at her, years of marriage weren’t needed for him to know when he messed up.
“I mean she makes it better and wonderful but still!” He hitched his fists on his hips before continuing, “I’m supposed to be fat and lazy now! Well not actually fat because I have a metabolism that just won’t quit.”
“Do you mean,” Holt pushed away from the desk, standing up to his fullest height, “that you’re not capable of running the precinct?”
Jake gasped and took a full step back, glaring up at Holt, “excuse me?”
“You run in here, complaining that you can’t do it, so I must assume that you are not up to the challenge” Holt raised an eyebrow as he spoke, “I give you a precinct rife with problems that you, a Captain with an astonishing number of arrests under your belt, should be more than able to handle. Are you telling me that you can’t?”
“Oh no,” Jake shook a finger, “I know what you’re trying to do here and it’s not working. I’m not going to lower myself to silly challenges.”
“Alright. Just tell me you’re afraid of running the precinct and I will have you relocated to another precinct, one that’s more-” knowing his audience, Holt paused pretending to search for a word, “approachable.”
Jake gasped again, smacking into the wall as he tried to take another step back. “How dare you!”
“It’s totally fine, Peralta, if you’re not up for the challenge I’ll find another precinct. One where you can coast, without any crooked cops to root out or suck ups to whip into shape.” As Holt spoke Amy lifted the binder to hide her smile behind it.
“How. Dare. You.” Jake stepped forward, poking the wooden desk, “I’ll root out those crooked cops and I’ll whip those suck ups into shape!”
“No, I don’t think you can do it. I’ve seen that I’ve over-estimated your abilities.” Holt shifted, looking at Terry, “Do you think Diaz or Santiago would want to-”
“Oh no! Santiago is staying at the Nine-nine, and Diaz is staying at the ninety-five, and I am going to make the ninety-second the best precinct in Brooklyn. Nay! In all the five boroughs!”
“Did you just say nay?” Terry asked from next to Amy.
“Did you just say that you’re going to beat me?” Amy stood up, dropping the binder on Holt’s desk, “the Nine-nine has worked for years to be the best precinct in the city. There’s no way, no way that you’re going to beat out the Nine-nine for precinct of the year.”
“Oh really? Cus I just said it, I’m going to make the Ninety-second the best precinct in the city. With the highest number of solved cases and an arrest record to be drooled over.” Jake shifted away from Holt and towards Amy.
“You guys, I don’t think that betting on making the precincts the best-”
“Terry, let them finish.”
“Oh yeah? Want to bet on it?” Amy crossed her arms, something between a glare and a grin on her face.
“Yeah, I most definitely want to bet on it. Second honeymoon.” Jake crossed his arms, unconsciously mirroring Amy.
“Oh do you mean how we’re going to go on an organized and planned trip across Europe? Showing our children around the greatest art galleries of the world and going through the best museums?” Amy asked, arching an eyebrow.
“Oh no, I mean how the four of us are going to go backpacking across South America, no plans, no schedule, and no reservations.” Jake hissed the last word as Amy gasped.
“You are on.” Amy stuck out her hand and he shook it quickly before turning to address Holt.
“Now if you’ll excuse me, I have a precinct to whip into shape.” Jake spun around to leave the room, slamming the door behind him. After a moment he opened the door again, poking his head in, “if you guys are forming a band, it should be called Holt and the Captains.”
With that he slammed the door shut, and Amy spun around to pick up her binder labeled Jake’s Surprise Party “if you don’t mind, I’ll be off. I have data to crunch and a list of top-notch art galleries to compile.”
Amy stormed out after her husband, leaving Holt and Terry behind. Holt sunk back into his chair, taking care to smooth down his tie as he did so.
“That was sneaky, Sir.” Terry said with a grin, “very sneaky.”
“The nine-nine has lost motivation over the last few years, an unfortunate side effect of my best detectives going up in the ranks. Santiago needed an extra push. The ninety-second has been a mess for decades. I have no doubt that a focused and competitive Jake Peralta is exactly what it needs.” Holt turned to his computer, “now can we get back to actual business?”
“Of course Commissioner,” Terry said grinning as he leaned forward, “it’s just a pleasure to watch the master work.”
“Noted.” Holt said, definitely not grinning as he pulled up the arrest records on his computer.