i don't know if this counts as a prompt request (if so feel free to ignore!) but do you have any headcanons for jake and amy on valentine's day? an idea of mine is that they're both working late and so they can't go out for dinner or anything and thus jake feels bad and buys amy all the tacky valentine's gifts he can find within a mile radius of the precinct
this got away from me tbh
It starts out with one little innocent comment, as these things usually do. Amy honestly hadn’t meant anything by it - hadn’t even graced the words with a second thought as they left her mouth - because in her mind, it was all categorized as ‘insignificant.’ Stupid, really, would be the better word, but that’s neither here nor there at this point.
This point being 3 AM on Valentine’s day. This point also being her desk, the surface of which is currently buried beneath what appears to be a veritable hoarder’s nest - assuming that hoarder has a fixation on Hallmark’s most successful business venture.
There are five singing teddy bears and at least a dozen boxes of chocolates, six dozen plastic roses (and one dozen real roses in a vase balancing in the inch-wide gap between her desk and Jake’s), all manner of pink and red confetti and plastic hearts and three paper silhouettes of the patron saint himself. Even her chair fell victim: the fuzzy pink blanket is soft as it slips between her fingers.
“Jake,” she says, and his name comes out a bit choked. He’s standing a foot behind her, practically radiating with pride at his work (and it is his work, she knows this beyond a doubt - where the hell else would he have been for the last ninety minutes?). “What - what the hell.”
She hears him shuffle behind her, and then another teddy bear with white fur slides into her vision on her right. She leans away from it, eyeing the red heart sewn between the bear’s paws, before lifting her gaze to stare at his wide, delighted grin. “Did it all while you were interviewing Peters.”
“I - God.” Amy snatches the teddy bear out of his hands. “What happened to not doing anything for Valentine’s Day?” She snaps.
He looks only slightly put-out at her reaction. “I decided not to do nothing,” he says with a shrug. He’s maddeningly, furiously unrepentant. “Oh, c’mon, Amy! I couldn’t not do something after that Teddy comment.”
It’s suddenly very difficult to resist stamping her foot and growling in frustration. “For the last time,” she says, fists clenched around the teddy bear, “it doesn’t matter. The steakhouse wasn’t even that good, and he spent more time arguing with the waiters than actually talking to me. Literally nothing at all would be better than that night.”
“I know!” He gestures to her desk. “That’s why this should completely and totally blow your expectations out of the water! I wiped every bodega within a five-mile radius out, babe. I’m basically the king of Valentine’s Day.”
“Buying a bunch of cheap crap at midnight on Valentine’s Day does not make you the king.” She informs him loftily, which she thinks would normally make him feel bad, except she can’t stop running her fingers through the teddy bear’s fur and he’s definitely noticed the movement. “Ugh. Thank you, or whatever.”
“Sheesh, what is it with you and this holiday?”
“It’s stupid! It’s not even a real holiday! It’s all a conspiracy created by Hallmark to -”
“Hey, Ames? You - you’re allowed to be happy, y’know.”
Jake’s studiously avoiding her gaze now, too busy focusing on rearranging the confetti on her desk. She deflates all at once, suddenly feeling like a complete and total jackass. A complete and total jackass going for nearly twenty-four hours on only three hours of sleep, but a jackass nonetheless. “Jake,” she exhales, and his expression is guarded when he peers up at her through his lashes. “I am happy. I really am. This isn’t - it’s not about us. I just hate this holiday.”
“Not as much as Halloween.”
He’s smiling again, which is a good sign, so she releases a long sigh and nods, before dropping heavily down into her desk chair. “You’re right. Nothing will ever top Halloween. I’m sorry I - it’s just that, I’ve…I’ve never had a good Valentine’s Day.” He furrows his brow as he sits in her guest chair, leaned toward her with his elbows on his knees. “I’ve either been alone, or with the wrong guy, and - I don’t know. I just don’t like it.”
“That’s okay. I’ll like it enough for the both of us.” He reaches for her hand and she gives it to him willingly, smiling in spite of herself at the familiar contact. “We both have tomorrow off, and we don’t have to do anything - we can just hang out and watch TV in our PJ’s. Maybe we can go visit Gina in the hospital or something. It doesn’t matter - I just wanna hang out with you.”
His smile is genuine, but there’s a certain calculating edge to his gaze, so she narrows her eyes suspiciously. “What do you have planned right now?”
“I don’t have anything planned. Have you met me? I don’t plan.”
“I call BS, Peralta. Tell me.”
“Ugh, fine, I have dinner reservations. But I can call and cancel, it’s so not a big deal -”
“Jake,” she interrupts, and then she leans forward and gently squeezes his fingers until he meets her in the middle for a slow, chaste kiss. “Dinner sounds…nice.” She murmurs when he breaks away.
His grin is blinding has he jumps up, pulling her up to her feet, only broadening when she laughs. “It’s gonna be great, I promise. I promise I won’t even talk to the waiter.”
Jake starts toward the elevator, but Amy pulls him back sharply with the hand still clasped in his. “Uh, if you think I’m letting you leave my desk like this -” she gestures to the mess “- you clearly don’t know me at all.”
“But it’s Valentine’s Day!”
“And it’s my desk!”
“You’re lucky I love you, Santiago.”
Amy grins. “Believe me, I know.”