A Case of the Mondays (Brooklyn Nine Nine) - 3/5, updated Jan. 21

[Anonymouse]

More Brooklyn Nine-Nine! Ive been wanting to write this for ages - like, since before the season 2 finale ages - and stephab13s fic finally inspired me to get my ass in gear and write. This is A Case of the Mondays, and youll soon find out the reason for the title. I was actually going to try to post a chapter every Monday but time is not lining up the way I want it too, so screw it. Im not sure when this takes place in the grand scheme of things; its definitely pre-Jake and Amy getting together, but also not while theyre with other people (Teddy, Sophia). This first part has minimal sneezing, but there will be more, trust me Im trying to build up the illness naturally, rather than diving straight into sneezing. Plus Im pretty sure two people at the very most will read this and Im hoping theyll appreciate the B99ness of it all even without the sneezing. There are a few real mysteries here, so feel free to try and solve the case along with the detectives.

---

Jake stumbled into the precinct fifteen minutes later than his usual twenty-nine minutes. He typically didn't have a problem rolling in exactly one minute prior to the morning briefing at 8:30, as long as his ass was in a seat by the time the captain took the podium. Officers were expected to clock in at 8 AM sharp, but the captain allowed his detectives a thirty minute grace period in case of traffic. This always gave the relentlessly punctual Amy Santiago time to enjoy her morning tea and review her planner while she waited for all the slackers like Jake to come sprinting through the elevator doors.

This time Amy was not waiting at her desk to comment on his tardiness. The desks were all abandoned except for Gina's at reception. It was as if the detectives had been raptured and Gina was the sole remaining witness. "Jake!" she shouted as he tried to hurry by her.

"Why are you shouting?" he shouted back, wincing like he had the biggest hangover of his life.

She giggled, twirling her glittery pencil around a lock of hair as she peered up at him knowingly. "Rough night?"

He glanced anxiously at the conference room, where he could see Captain Raymond Holt addressing the room. Jake knew his superior was prepared to humiliate him in front of his colleagues the moment he stepped his tardy self through the door. Normally Jake could tolerate Holt's penchant for making a mockery of him, and on most days he played right back, but he couldnt handle it right now, not after the beating his ego took this weekend. "Rough life," he groaned.

"Oh, baby bird..." It was one of her many stupid childhood nicknames for him; no doubt she was using it to soften the blow. "It's about to get rougher."

Jake groaned again. "What do you mean?" he asked, though he already knew the answer.

"Holt is on the warpath."

"Damn," Jake said under his breath. "Think there's anyway I can sneak in without him noticing?"

"No chance. Especially since he looked over here like five times since you walked in."

Jake cursed again. He better get it over with, like ripping off a Band-aid. Except the bright lights of the conference room and the impending humiliation would it more like ripping a wax strip off his-

"Detective Peralta," came Holt's voice from across the room.

Jake winced as if he'd stepped onto a lightbulb barefoot. Captain Holt was in the doorway of the conference room, the faces of the detectives peering nosily around him. Before Jake could even process the fact that the captain stopped the morning briefing to address him specifically, Holt continued on casually, though with an undercurrent to irritation to his tone that Jake could remember all of his grade school teachers possessing. "Would you care to join us, or shall we wait for you to finish your conversation? I wouldnt want to interrupt."

He had a way of asking the question without a hint of sarcasm, while still letting Jake know that this was his intent. Jake wondered if he was finally semi-fluent in Holt's robot language and all its subtleties.

"I'll be right there," he said, glaring at Gina for making him later than he already was.

She was back to her default state - absorbed in her phone - so his glare fell on unseeing eyes. Turning back to Holt, who was waiting with pseudo-patience in the doorway, Jake began a walk of shame across the precinct. He felt like a kicked puppy after his date on Friday and he didn't even get to dish with Gina about it. He had no self esteem left to challenge Holt, so he sulked quietly into the conference room and searched for a vacant chair.

Holt had taken off his glasses, presumably to clean them while Jake figured out his seating situation. He used them to point at the seat in the front row, closest to the podium. "This chair is available," he stated matter of factly.

Amy always sat in that chair. If she ever thought she might be too late to claim it, she placed a handmade placard on the seat with the word "Reserved" written neatly in marker. Today she sat in the second row, next to Scully. Holt must have asked her to move, and being eternal suck-up Amy Santiago, she agreed. She looked at Jake apologetically, but he sensed a bit of personal regret in her stare as well - earning Holt's esteem was not worth entering Scully's biosphere. He gave her a much less sympathetic look before slumping into the chair next to Rosa. "Well, now that everyone's here, we can continue with the briefing, Holt said. Sergeant Jeffords?"

All Jake wanted was to put his head on the cool table and sleep. The lights were so bright it was almost painful, and it took every ounce of effort to keep his eyes open. The Sarge was talking about some robbery, but all Jake could think about was how terrible he felt, physically and emotionally. He wondered why Kendra never texted him back after their date on Friday. Despite his one-of-a-kind detective skills, he could not figure out what he did to fuck up this time. They had amazing chemistry when she interviewed him for that piece on the NYPD. She said yes without hesitation when he asked her to dinner later that week. On their date, she smiled and laughed at all of his jokes. She had seen Die Hard fifteen times - a mere drop in the bucket to Jake's one-hundred twenty-two, but still impressive. Why would she stonewall him like that? Jake could handle rejection, but it was the uncertainty that was killing him.

"Peralta, you in there?"

Jeffords was addressing him now. Jake blinked to clear his eyes of that glazed look he was sure they had. "Yes, sir.

"Did you hear what I just said?"

"Of course, sir.

"What did I say?"

Jake smiled in a way he hoped was endearing but it made Terry look at him like a snake looks at a rat. "What now?"

"I said what did I-- aw, forget it. Diaz, Santiago, take Peralta and fill him in on the way over."

"Come on, dumb-dumb," Rosa said, grabbing Jake by the collar of his jacket and hauling him off like an angry mother cat.

Her grip was tight enough that Jake found himself struggling to breathe. It hurt like hell, too, and when she finally let go he rubbed his neck, checking for bruises. His neck felt tender, his fingers crawling across a small bulge under his skin. He pulled his hand back in surprise but Diaz was grabbing it and tugging him towards the elevator before he could finish inspecting the situation. Out of earshot of Holt, she finally vented through clenched teeth. "We had to sit and get lectured for twenty minutes because of you."

Amy had been following quietly behind them, but she clearly had a lot to add. "I had to breathe in Scully's... essence all morning, because Holt wanted my spot to punish you." She sighed. "Why is it that I'm punished just as much for your behaviors as you are?"

Jake rubbed his temples, the dull headache he awoke with growing in increments. "I'm sorry," he said, and he meant it. "My sleep schedule got all messed up this weekend."

"Don't care" Rosa said curtly. "Get here on time or you'll have worse things to worry about than Holt calling you out."

She pushed him into the elevator like a bully shoving a kid in a locker. It stirred up some bad memories in Jake, but he swallowed them down and tried to focus on his job. "So what happened?" he asked. "Are we checking out a robbery?"

"Two robberies," said Rosa. "Both took place early this morning." She gave him a look of mock suspicion. "Maybe that's why you were late?"

Jake laughed and then coughed. Then he coughed some more. Amy shot him a look and he lifted his arm so he could cough into his sleeve The Right Way. He gave a few more exaggerated coughs long after the urge passed, both to annoy the official hygiene officer of the precinct and to clear out the fierce tickle that would not leave his throat. "Chill," he said, his voice rough and a bit shaky, like he might dissolve into another fit. "No germs. It's just the dry air in this building."

"That's what you say whenever you get sick," said Amy.

"Which is never, 'cause I-" Cough. "-never get sick."

Rosa snorted at the obvious irony of the situation, but Jake chose to remain in denial. "Okay, hot shot," she said, changing the subject before he could retaliate. "So why did you lose so much sleep this weekend?"

She gave him another sly look and Jake wished that scary Rosa would come back. "Just... uh..." he stammered.

His sudden lack of confidence seemed to tell Rosa all she needed to know, and she looked sorry for him. Now he really wanted scary Rosa back - pitying Rosa was the worst Rosa. "So it didn't go well," she said.

She was referring to the date on Friday. The whole precinct knew about it, and quite frankly Jake was surprised Boyle didnt attach himself to Jake like a barnacle, begging for the details, the moment he walked into the conference room.

"It was weird," Jake said, immediately opening up. Rosa and Amy were his bros, and he was feeling strangely vulnerable today, so he decided to just ride with it. "I thought I did everything right. I was polite, but not too polite, you know? I thought we had good chemistry, but then she just got really weird afterwards. I cant explain it. She wouldnt let me take a cab back with her. I wasnt going to invite myself into her place, if thats what she was worried about. I texted her right after to make sure we were cool and nothing."

His tone turned bitter and he hated himself for it. Kendra didnt owe him anything. It just sucked not knowing what went wrong, when from his perspective everything seemed to be going so well.

Amy let him have the front seat, perhaps out of sympathy, out of guilt for betraying him this morning, or both. She was quiet while he spoke, which somewhere, deep inside himself, he hoped was a sign of jealousy. When he became fully conscious of this thought he dismissed it immediately. Being vulnerable was one thing; being pathetic was another, and entirely unacceptable. The more realistic explanation was she was too busy focusing on the case. She dictated the address of the first victim to Rosa, who programmed it into the GPS.

"I wish I knew what to say," Rosa said, checking the mirror as she pulled into the street. "Just don't be desperate. Let it go and wait for her to reach out to you. Maybe something came up. You never know."

"Maybe," Jake said, ending it there.

They drove in silence for a couple of minutes. Jake felt guilty, like he cast a pall over the day with his personal issues. But then Rosa turned on the radio, and the collective mood in the car lifted instantly. Rosa and Amy bobbed their heads in unison, and Jake tapped along to the beat, drumming his fingers against the side of the door. He had the window down and was enjoying the unseasonably warm weather when it suddenly hit him how miserable he felt. Not emotionally - Rihanna's "Shut Up and Drive" was a tremendous help with that - but physically. The scratchiness in his throat was not going away, and he could feel his nose starting to run. And itch. It was becoming unbearable at an alarming rate.

Jake ducked his face into his right shoulder, trying to discreetly rub his nose against his jacket. When that didnt help he tried clearing his throat, hoping the scratching relief would reach his sinuses. If anything the subtle vibrations made it worse, and before he could stop himself he was building up to a sneeze. The station broke for commercials, Rosa braked for a red light, and Jake pivoted his head towards the open window, sneezing freely and hoping with all his might that he wouldn't open his eyes to a disgruntled pedestrian covered in his bodily fluids.

Fortunately, there was nobody in the line of fire. Unfortunately, his nose was still consumed by the maddening tickle. He couldnt stop a soft "heh" from slipping out as he squinted at a point on the road, trying to combat the physical urge with his mental prowess. Rosa made a comment and he was momentarily distracted, stuck in a sneezy limbo. A car passed on their right, the sunlight glinting off the windshield and into Jakes eyes. The burning sensation in his nose increased tenfold and he lifted his arm feebly to catch the next sneeze. "ehGKshh!"

Judging from Amys squeal of disgust, his arm did not provide adequate coverage. In the sunlight he could see some wetness on the dashboard. "Dude," Rosa said with a disapproving scowl, passing him a bandana with skulls on it.

Jake took it and squinted at her, feeling like there might be another sneeze or two on deck. He was not sure if she wanted him to wipe the dashboard or use it as a tissue. Either method involved getting the bandana dirty. "You sure?" was all he could manage.

"I've got like fifty of them," she said. "Besides, I'd rather you be gross in that than all over the car."

That was all the permission he needed. Turning from her, he folded the bandana over his nose and wrenched forward, nearly hitting his head on the side of the door. "Hpptschh! Hehh-- hpXKschh!"

"Bless you," the girls said in unison, with Rosa adding "Better?"

"Yeah," Jake said, feeling suddenly exhausted, as if the sneezing drained him of his energy. "Thanks."

He gave a few coughs and wiped his nose with the bandana, checking the side mirror to make sure he was entirely cleaned up. He could hear Rosa snickering beside him.

"Dry air, my ass," she muttered as she parked the car in front of the apartment complex.

Amy giggled. Jake glared at the both of them, but they were already getting out of the car.

It was going to be a long day.

Edited January 21, 2016 by AnonyMouse

[stephab13]

Oh. My. God.

Okay I've read this like fifty times and I'm still not sure I can English or words because THIS IS SO INCREDIBLE. Like everything. Your scene-setting is absolutely perfect and just so incredibly canon and wonderful and OMG. Literally everyone speaking I'm reading in their voice - even Rosa, who I can't get so I''m even more impressed. You have this amazing undercurrent of humour through everything!

... I'm loving the relationships. I'm loving Jake opening up and *not* scaring Rosa. And the pet names from Gina. And the fact that everyone seems to know something is up, even if they aren't sure what, so they're mostly not hitting him too hard. And the bandana is just really sweet.

Also, I don't know what it is about the nose-on-jacket and sneezing-out-the-window thing (and, I'll admit, even the dashboard a little). His attempts to be discreet are just so futile and helpless and it's really endearing. And sneezing out the window of a car is TOTALLY something I could see them do (I mean, come on, we've had Amy and Holt sneeze and Rosa been sick as a dog - it's Jake's turn next, yeah?)

Ahhhh and it's just so amazing and there's going to be more of it and you have no idea how excited I am for it and yes. THANK YOU FOR GETTING THIS UP!!!

(Also as a thought because I've been searching through the emoji's, can you imagine Gina with these?!)

[silentdreamer789]

This is so amazing

[Kshu]

Yesssss, I love it!

[phoenix]

I'm loving this! I've only seen a few episodes (my friend's attempts to get me hooked didn't quite work, although there's still hope!), but everything seems spot-on, and I'm a sucker for that tension before a guy like Jake is willing to admit defeat. Looking forward to the next part!

[Zwee]

This is... soooo well-written.

Like I said on stephab13's B99 story, you are part of the reason I started watching this show. Because your characterization is always on point, and I thought, if the show is as good as this story (albeit less sneezy), it's definitely worth watching.

Also I'm on Winter Break and have too much time on my hands, so I'm already halfway done with season 2--yikes. It's great though, and it makes the story just that much better because I can totally hear it. It's amazing.

But this is just so stellar, and I think your writing is amazing. I love that Rosa and Amy are so on to him, and he's just miserable. Poor Jake. I can totally relate to that random funk you get in when you're not feeling up to par, not to mention all the personal issues too. I just think the way you write emotions is really great, and really relatable.

So, so good.

[Anonymouse]

I did not expect this chapter to be as long as it is, but here you go. At least there’s a lot of fun stuff (aka sneezing) to make up for the length? I appreciate each and every comment and if I was on my own computer I’d love to reply to them all individually. Alas I am using my work laptop and I’m nervous enough as it is just writing this in a google doc and emailing it to my phone to post. But I do appreciate those of you reading and commenting. I’m pleasantly surprised to find there are more fans of the show on here than just me, Winged, and stephab13. It’s an absolute delight and if you don’t watch but have been thinking about it, I highly recommend it. I'm immensely flattered by those of you who started watching because of the fiction here! You guys rock. Here’s chapter two.

---

Everyone was surprised to see Jake back the next Monday. He seemed to feel better last Tuesday than he had the Monday before - and he made sure to let everyone with constant exclamations of "See, I told you I was fine!" that culminated with Rosa threatening to duct tape his mouth shut. Then came Wednesday. Despite two more cups of coffee than usual, both smelling suspiciously like DayQuil, Jake started losing steam around 10 AM. Amy watched as he fielded calls and perused paperwork almost mechanically, his eyes glazed over as if he turned off his mind and was operating on autopilot. She knew something was wrong when it took a few tries calling his name from across their desks for him to respond.

"You seem really out of it today," she said when he finally acknowledged her, blinking as if struggling to come out of a dream.

"I'be fi-hih-H'TSchh!-TCHH!-uhh... fide."

Amy literally jumped a couple inches off her seat at the unexpected sneezes, but Jake just bunched some tissues against his nose and continued working. Usually when he sneezed there was some warning, verbal or otherwise, but those came out of nowhere. He sniffed behind the mass of tissues, trying to concentrate on the document in front of him, but it was clear he was having difficulty. His glassy eyes and flushed skin seemed to indicate a fever.

After a full morning of watching her partner suffer, Amy resolved to finally do something about it. Standing up, she marched into Holt's office, shutting the door behind her and closing the blinds. Holt looked up with comparatively calm curiosity, probably wondering what it was that had one of his most grounded detectives so stirred up.

"Can I help you, Detective Santiago?"

"Jake is sick, sir," she said. "I've watched him struggle not to fall asleep at his desk all morning. He needs to go home, or at the very least take something stronger than DayQuil. I don't think he can do desk work like this let alone field work, and we're supposed to meet with a possible witness to the Union Avenue robberies this afternoon."

"You and Diaz can handle that on your own, and I'll make sure he understands that." Holt gestured to the blocked window and closed door. "Send him in. I'll assess the situation for myself. If I believe he isn't capable of fulfilling his duties one-hundred percent today then I will make sure he stays at home until he can."

Amy smiled, reassured. She knew Jake would put up a fight, but she trusted Holt to find a way to talk (or coerce) him into doing what had to be done. "Thank you, sir."

She made her way back to her desk. Jake had his chin in one hand and a new clump of tissues in the other. He was staring at his computer but his eyes were not following any of the words on the screen. "Captain wants to see you," Amy said casually, apparently startling him out of a reverie.

Jake looked at her with suspicion but got up from his chair without comment, dropping the tissues into the trash can. Charles "ooh!"-ed from across the room like a kid shaming his fellow student for getting called to the principal's office. Jake didn't seem to notice as he made his way to the office. Amy glanced at the clock - 11:33 AM - and estimated that Jake might be in there trying to negotiate with Holt until at least noon.

She was shocked to see the door open less than five minutes later. Jake quietly returned to his desk, gathered his belongings, and walked out without saying a word to anyone. He did not come back on Thursday or Friday, and his absence was the topic of much speculation just prior to the weekend. Amy, Rosa, and Charles had all texted to check on him, since he rarely answered calls on his personal cell, but he only answered Charles. And the response – a horribly misspelled text message asking whether or not gummy bears had vitamin C – did not tell them much beyond what they already suspected. They nominated Gina to check on him over the weekend, possibly the only task she had agreed to do for anyone so far this year. Reassured, they went home and hoped he return on Monday at his usual one hundred percent.

And he did. He even showed up early for once, and seemed to be in better health and spirits than the week prior. Before his arrival Rosa had been telling Amy about the slew of conspiratorial text messages regarding the case she received from his number on Saturday night. "He was either really drunk or really delirious," she said, and Amy could not explain the pang of jealousy she felt. Of course Jake would text Rosa – she was the primary on this case, and the both of them went way back to their academy days. But she still felt a little out of the loop. Amy knew she and Jake had a special kind of friendship, just as he and Rosa had a special kind of friendship, but when the three of them worked together Amy sometimes felt like a third wheel.

"What are these?" Rosa demanded, thrusting her phone into Jake's face the moment he walked into the break room for coffee. Amy would have thought to ask how he was feeling first, but such personal questions were not really Rosa’s style.

"It's my theory," Jake said. He sounded disappointed by her reaction. "About the case."

"These are the ramblings of a crazy person," Rosa countered.

Amy watched them debate the validity of his theory, her head bouncing to the left and the right like she was watching a tennis match. Jake argued that it must be significant that both robberies took place on a Monday in February, the second day of the week in the second month of the year. Both victims were single mothers to toddlers who had just turned two in the last month. And two items each were stolen from each of the residences. "Doesn’t that seem like a whole lot of twos?" he asked.

"Even if there was some kind of pattern, what difference would it make?" said Rosa. "We don't know what, if any, importance the number has to our perp."

"I have to agree with Rosa," Amy chimed in. "It sounds pretty far-fetched, Jake. I think it's just a coincidence."

Jake scowled. He didn’t like it when he was outnumbered. "There is no coincidence in poli-... s-ehh... ehtgxshh!-nn… police work."

"So you sneezing right now, it's 'cause you’re still sick," Rosa said, raising an eyebrow in challenge. "It’s not a coincidence, right?"

"Doe," Jake protested breathily, still not fully recovered. "This... is... ihh... hehh'GXxshhu! Shihh... hih'NXchh!"

He sneezed into his elbow just as Amy always harangued him to do, though she knew he hated it. She located the closest tissue box and handed it to him wordlessly as he ducked to the side, his face pressed against his sleeve. The next sneeze did not come as expected, leaving his breath sawing in and out. During the uneasy pause Gina called Rosa out to answer her phone which was ringing off the hook, not as part of her job but because she couldn't hear her music over the noise and was permanently banned from using headphones in the office.

"You better be done by the time I get back," Rosa said, glaring at Jake before stalking out of the room.

"Doe prohbises..." Jake sniffled and pressed a handful of tissues to his nose, gaining the upper hand in the fight against the tickle. He plunked down in the chair furthest from Amy to blow his nose, making a small sound of disgust afterwards and chucking the tissues into the trashcan. "To be honest I still feel like shit," he said, unexpectedly candid.

"To be honest, I could tell," Amy said gently. She hated how concerned she sounded. "You should have stayed home."

"I mean, I’m fine." He took a pump of hand sanitizer. "My body is getting used to being healthy again, so it's still going to act sick for a day or two."

"That makes absolutely no sense, but I'll try to believe you."

He rubbed his hands together thoughtfully and looked like her like he was thinking about asking her something. Amy looked back at him, thrown off guard by the intensity of his gaze. Before either of them could say anything Rosa appeared in the doorway. She eyed Jake briefly, then folded her arms across her chest and averted her gaze. "There's been another robbery, two streets down from Union." She pressed her lips together for a moment and Jake and Amy knew she had something else to add. "Two robberies, actually."

Jake clapped his hands together and let out a victorious “Ha!” He glanced smugly between his fellow detectives, waiting for validation, but all Amy did was roll her eyes and stood up. "What should I do?"

"Take down the details and then we’ll head out," she said. “Jake, you got the second victim. Try to tone down your enthusiasm. I’ll patch them through to you in a minute, so be at your desks.”

Rosa left and Amy and Jake trailed behind her. "I bet you all the money in my pocket that the victims are single mothers with toddlers," he said, turning out his pockets. A few coins clattered to the ground and he bent to pick them up, counting them in his palm. "So... thirteen cents."

"Tempting,” Amy said, “but I’m going to pass.”

She gathered the first victim’s information while Jake excused himself to the restroom. When he returned his nose was redder than it had been before. Amy chose not to comment. He was still more alert and energetic (annoyingly so) than he had been last week, so she found it easy to accept his assertions that he was on the mend. As she finished up with the first victim he took the second off hold. Sure enough, the woman Amy spoke with had to go to pick up her son from daycare and would be available later this afternoon to speak with the detectives. She reported that only two items were missing – a single framed photograph of her from years ago and one of the child’s old bibs, which seemed like an odd thing for a robber to take. Maybe there was something to this theory Jake had after all.

Sometimes Amy hated it when he was right.

She hung up and watched curiously as Jake spoke with the other victim, trying to gather information from the faint murmur of her voice on the other end of the line. After Jake asked for her name and address he sat up straighter, his expression suddenly unreadable. The tip of his pen hovered uncertainly above the blank Post-it note. “Could you spell that for me?” he asked after a long moment of silence.

Amy watched him slowly form the letters: KENDRA BAEHR. She was wondering why the name sounded so familiar. It suddenly hit her when she looked back up at Jake and saw that all the color had left his face.

Before she could signal to him to confirm that this was, in fact, that Kendra, he wrote down another name, this one with a number beside it. THOMAS BAEHR – 2.

Amy raised her eyebrows and looked at Jake but it seemed he was making it a point not to look at her or anyone else. His voice took on this strange, almost choked quality as he confirmed the victim’s address and took down her statement. There was no hint of familiarity in his voice, and he referred to her as “Ms. Baehr,” which had Amy wondering if this really was the same girl or if Jake was just being overly professional. Amy returned to her own work but left some of her focus with the situation unfolding across from her, her jaw clenched as she struggled to decipher the words coming through the receiver. Instead all she heard was a sharp intake of breath and a rushed “Just a sec” before Jake swiveled in his chair.

Amy looked up just in time to see him pull up the collar of his flannel shirt over his nose. The heel of his other hand was pressed over the phone speaker so the victim didn’t have to hear the harsh “Eh’k-gschhhh!” that tore through his body. He tentatively lowered his fabric barrier, looked confused for a moment, and then drew his collar back up as his breathing sped up again. “Heh-hehh-hih-KGSCHH!-ugh… eh’KSCHH!”

Sniffling wetly, he reached across his desk to Amy’s for her tissues. The tips of his fingers only brushed the box and Amy slid it closer to him. “I’m sorry about that,” he said, returning to his call as he traded his shirt for four or five tissues. “Where were… thank you… yes… of course…” He fidgeted with his pen cap before dropping it and twisting to the side again. This time he didn’t have a chance to cover the phone. “ehg’KCSHH!”

This time Amy could hear a distinctive blessing from the other end. Jake sniffled, removing his face from the crook of his arm. The redness had spread from his nose and was flooding his face with color – even his eyes looked a little red. Amy was disheartened to find that they once again held that same glassy quality as they had last week. “You know what,” Jake began, his voice still heady, as if another sneeze was inevitable. “Would it be okay if I had by pardder fiddish this up?”

It must have been, because Amy suddenly found herself holding Jake’s phone. It was still warm from where he had been gripping it. Before she could protest he was on his feet and walking quickly towards the direction of the restroom. A confused and concerned mumble trickled from the phone and Amy brought the receiver to her ear.

“This is Detective Santiago,” she said.

“Is he okay?” asked the voice.

“Yeah, he’s just getting over a cold.” Or still suffering from one. “I’m sorry to hear about what happened, Ms. Baehr.”

“Thank you,” she said. “He didn’t take much… just one of my son’s old onesies and an old photograph I had. I honestly don’t even remember what it was of, but I noticed that the frame wasn’t there anymore. Anyway, it isn’t about the stuff – I’m concerned about Thomas. I’ve lived here for five years and I’ve never had anything like this happen to us.”

“We’ll be down there shortly to check things out,” Amy assured her. “Is there anything else I can do for you before we head out?”

“No,” she said, but then quickly added “Well…”

Amy waited with baited breath. She had a feeling she knew what was coming next.

“That other detective, Jake…” Amy felt her heart flutter at the sound of his name, but not in a good way. “We went out once, a couple of weeks ago… he was a nice guy but I really need to focus on my son right now. If it’s not too weird for you, could you let him know I’m sorry things didn’t work out?”

“Uh… sure,” she said, but Kendra was already cutting back in.

“No, nevermind. I’m sorry. I don’t want to make this-“

“No, it’s fine,” Amy said, more confidently this time. “I’ll let him know. I’m sure he’ll understand. He’s a good guy.”

Her relief was palpable even from miles away. “Thank you… really… so, when can I expect to see you two?”

“We’ll be down in about half an hour,” Amy said, glancing towards the restrooms to see if there was any sign of Jake. “Does that work?”

“Sure does. Thanks again.”

Amy confirmed her address once more before hanging up. Rosa was looking her way with an expression resembling curiosity so Amy went to update her on the situation. In the middle of their conversation Jake reentered the bullpen, looking at them suspiciously. “What’s going on?” he asked slowly. He sounded stuffy, as if he had gone to the bathroom to blow his nose repeatedly but without much success. Which was probably exactly what happened.

“Was that Kendra?” Rosa asked, pointing at his phone.

Some of the other detectives looked up from their own work at the sound of her name. Normally one to bask in the attention of his colleagues, Jake cringed when he felt their eyes on him. “Yeah,” he said, scratching his neck in that way he always did when he was proven wrong about something. “I guess there is such a thing as coincidence, huh?”

“Do you feel comfortable going with Santiago to check out the scene?”

Jake gave a too-casual “pfft,” which Rosa did not consider a sufficient answer. “Of course I’m comfortable,” he elaborated. “Believe it or not, I can be professional when I need to be.”

“Good. Santiago, keep an eye on him.”

They took one of the patrol cars and headed to the location on Leonard Street. Jake talked nonstop – about the artists on the radio, the traffic, the unseasonably warm weather – everything except the case and the victim. Amy waited patiently for a natural pause to steer the conversation back to Kendra and the case, but when it never came she took matters into her own hands. “Jake,” she said, effectively stopping him in the middle of his commentary about the construction that was still going on on Grand. “Kend—Ms. Baehr wanted me to tell you she’s sorry.”

“Really,” he said, his tone shifting drastically. “Because she didn’t even seem to want to acknowledge who I was on the phone.”

“It was probably just as weird for her as it was for you,” Amy said. “I mean, did she… did she even tell you about Thomas?”

“Not a word,” he said, “though I should have guessed, with the way she kept checking her phone all night. I thought she was checking the time to see how much longer she had to sit across from me, but she was probably checking in with the babysitter.” He looked out the window, then added, more to himself than to her, “God, I’m so stupid.”

“You’re not, Jake. You couldn’t have guessed that.”

Jake didn’t have anything else to add to the conversation. Amy decided it was best just to drop it and move on. She got her promise to Kendra out of the way. Now they could focus on their jobs.

Jake was still pretty quiet by the time they arrived at the apartment. Amy took it upon herself to knock as her partner hung back, sniffling occasionally and glancing around as if looking for clues in the hallway. After a moment a petite blonde answered the door and gave them a warm smile. She had a small towheaded boy of about two in her arms; he was chewing on some colorful plastic keys and looking at their guests with wide blue eyes. “Detectives,” said the woman.

“Ms. Baehr,” Amy said in reply. “Can we come in?”

“Certainly.” She stepped aside to allow them to enter.

Amy walked in, glancing back at Jake to make sure he was acting normal. He was acting more normal than she’d ever seen him act, which indicated to Amy that he was very uncomfortable and trying hard not to show it. “This is Thomas,” Kendra said, making a little waving motion with her hand, which the boy repeated before burying his face shyly against his mother’s arm. She laughed. “He’s not a big talker.”

“Hi, Thomas,” Amy said, speaking slowly and clearly. She was good with smaller children, probably because they had not yet developed the brain capacity to realize how socially inept she truly was. “My name is Amy. It’s very nice to meet you.”

Jake was already checking out the windows. “No sign of forced entry here,” he said.

“How are you feeling, detective?” Kendra asked. “You sounded miserable on the phone. Could I get you a glass of water or something?”

Jake paused abruptly and looked to his partner. Amy suspected he did not expect Kendra to address him directly. She wondered what exactly he expected her to do about it now that it was happening. It was obvious he had no idea how to respond, so she found himself answering on his behalf out of pity. “He’s getting over a cold,” she said. “It’s not contagious anymore.”

At least she hoped it wasn’t, for the child’s sake. But Kendra said “Ah, we know all about that.” She was rocking Thomas gently on her hip. “We’re just getting over some colds here ourselves.”

As if on cue Jake sneezed, burying his face in the crook of his arm. He stood there, frozen and rigid for a few seconds, and then sneezed again, a surprisingly gentle “eh’kshhu!” Amy had a travel pack of tissues in her pocket and when Jake recovered she tossed them his way. There was a squeaky sound coming from Kendra’s direction and Amy realized with a smile that Thomas was giggling. His bright eyes were focused on Jake, and his mouth was open wide in a toothy grin. Amy was surprised to find Jake smiling back, his eyes a little watery.

“You like that?” Jake asked.

“He thinks sneezing is hilarious,” Kendra said. She seemed pleased that Jake was finally interacting with her, or at least with her child. “Needless to say it was like a comedy club in here last week.”

Jake grinned, then unfolded one of the tissues Amy had given him. “Ahh… ahhhhh…” This time the build-up was obviously fake. He paused and waited for the squeal of laughter from Thomas before continuing with an exaggerated “Choo!”

Thomas shrieked, dissolving into giggles in his mother’s arms. Kendra was laughing too, but she sounded more relieved than anything.

From that point on, Jake was a little more Jake-like for the rest of the visit. He did a few more fake sneezes for entertainment purposes, then a few real ones, then cracked jokes about the name of the doorman (“Mr. Eagleburger? Are you kidding me?”) while he and Amy looked for something, anything, that would tell them more about their perpetrator. They were unable to determine the method of entry, which was highly discouraging to all parties. Kendra had assured them that she did not let anyone in or have any company at all in the last week. Jake mentioned that there was a possibility this robbery was linked to two others from the week prior, and another that had occurred today. He did not divulge any information about his theory of twos. Kendra denied knowing either of the previous victims, but was familiar with the apartment complex where they lived, as it was just a couple of blocks from hers. The only link they could establish between the victims was that all three boys went to the Strawberry Patch Daycare Center in Brooklyn.

“Thank you for your time,” Amy said as they left. “We’ll let you know if we make any headway.”

Jake was back to being silent, except for when he explained that he would not be shaking hands in case he was still contagious. He did, however, give Thomas a little wave as they left, one that was returned by the boy without any prompting from his mother.

Edited January 21, 2016 by AnonyMouse

[stephab13]

Okay, NEVER apologise for long updates. Ever. Your writing is just so incredibly engaging that I never see length - I'd sit for hours writing. Okay. Good? Good.

SO MANY THINGS TO LOVE HERE. I know I messaged it but, man, Jake and kids just... I'm never going to get over that image. I've always thought he'd be great with kids, and not just cos he can be so silly but I just... it's wonderful. JAKE YOU DORK. STOP IT.

Despite two more cups of coffee than usual, both smelling suspiciously like DayQuil, Jake started losing steam around 10 AM. Amy watched as he fielded calls and perused paperwork almost mechanically, his eyes glazed over as if he turned off his mind and was operating on autopilot. She knew something was wrong when it took a few tries calling his name from across their desks for him to respond.

"You seem really out of it today," she said when he finally acknowledged her, blinking as if struggling to come out of a dream.

"I'be fi-hih-H'TSchh!-TCHH-uhh... fide."

Amy literally jumped a couple inches off her seat at the unexpected sneezes, but Jake just bunched some tissues against his nose and continued working. Usually when he sneezed there was some warning, verbal or otherwise, but those came out of nowhere. He sniffed behind the mass of tissues, trying to concentrate on the document in front of him, but it was clear he was having difficulty. His glassy eyes and flushed skin seemed to indicate a fever.

Okay, so a few things. First of all, YOUR DESCRIPTION IS PERFECT. It's just so crystal clear. And, I've been seeing him the same way in the next part I'm writing, so that helps, but, ugh, he's just so vulnerable and, seriously, can I just pick him up and hug him and forcefeed him tea at my place? He's just trying so hard and... ugh. Way too adorable. Someone needs to have a good word to him about how sick days are there for a reason, and it's okay to trust the team, he doesn't have to do everything himself...

"To be honest I still feel like shit," he said, unexpectedly candid.

"To be honest, I could tell," Amy said gently

I mean, there's this. And the fact that he left without a fight. Even the fact he isn't denying. I just cant imagine how dreadful he must actually be feeling if it's at that stage. And if you're going where I think you are... I mean... just, poor thing. Someone needs to spike his drinks with a sedative. Get Gina on it again?

all she heard was a sharp intake of breath and a rushed “Just a sec” before Jake swiveled in his chair.

Amy looked up just in time to see him pull up the collar of his flannel shirt over his nose. The heel of his other hand was pressed over the phone speaker so the victim didn’t have to hear the harsh “Eh’k-gschhhh!” that tore through his body. He tentatively lowered his fabric barrier, looked confused for a moment, and then drew his collar back up as his breathing sped up again. “Heh-hehh-hih!-KGSCHH!-ugh… eh’KSCHH!”

Sniffling wetly, he reached across his desk to Amy’s for her tissues. The tips of his fingers only brushed the box and Amy slid it closer to him. “I’m sorry about that,” he said, returning to his call as he traded his shirt for four or five tissues. “Where were… thank you… yes… of course…” He fidgeted with his pen cap before dropping it and twisting to the side again. This time he didn’t have a chance to cover the phone. “heh’KCSHH!”

This time Amy could hear a distinctive blessing from the other end. Jake sniffled, removing his face from the crook of his arm. The redness had spread from his nose and was flooding his face with color – even his eyes looked a little red. Amy was disheartened to find that they once again held that same glassy quality as they had last week. “You know what,” Jake began, his voice still heady, as if another sneeze was inevitable. “Would it be okay if I had by pardder fiddish this up?”

THIS. This is good. I like it. Another! No, but, there's just something about him fighting those losing battles against the sneezes. I don't know what it is that gets to me but... yeah...

“God, I’m so stupid.”

“You’re not, Jake. You couldn’t have guessed that.”

JAKE NOT EVERYTHING IS A PROBLEM YOU HAVE TO SOLVE *smacks on back of head gently*

a horribly misspelled text message asking whether or not gummy bears had vitamin C

Okay, so, now I need to ask. Because it's just kinda become one of those tiny little quirky headcanons that I've fallen in love with. Jake with dyslexia? Because, I swear, he's that intelligent (unaware and immature, yes, but intelligent!) enough that I feel those mistakes are either him being a jerk - unlikely - or just... something is messing with it. And, I like it with the ADHD!headcanon

Oh but man, you just do this so well. Those tiny little character quirks are beautiful, and you wrap in sneezes into a really interesting plot and there's different mini-stories and just... yeah. Awesome job, as always! Can't wait for the next part! :-)

[Winged]

I'm with Steph, never apologize for these beautiful updates They are gold.

I really loved your analysis of the Amy-Jake-Rosa relationship, particularly from Amy's point of view. Rosa and Jake are like my all-time brotp and I get very excited and warm-fuzzy feeling whenever it gets highlighted.

Also the thing with Kendra! What a cute scene, and I loved when Amy had to cover for Jake because the poor guy is just so sick and overwhelmed and embarrassed Any sort of "oh he/I am just getting/getting over a cold" moment is one of my favorite little fetishy things.

I need to just start commenting after my first read-through so I can quote specific parts that I loved, although in truth I love it all so it's very difficult.

[Anonymouse]

Ahhhh you ladies are the best! I'm so glad you're both into this show! I just finished watching the mumps episode which gave me the push I needed to finish and post this chapter. I hope you like it.

---

The weirdest thing happened that weekend: Kendra texted Jake. It was impersonal, just a Hey how's it going followed by Case?, which was a little confusing because he wasn't sure if she was asking how he was, how the case was progressing, or both. Regardless it felt weird responding to discuss the case with her... or their personal situation, come to think of it. Jake could not tolerate the back and forth and indecisiveness that was chronic in some relationships. In this case he understood - having a kid always made things more complicated - but that didn't mean he had to like it, or put himself in a situation he knew would make him miserable. All he wanted was to catch the jerk who was doing this, say his goodbyes to Kendra, and move on.

He left his phone facedown on the couch and got up for more tea. It buzzed again and he flinched, almost returning to it automatically, but he managed to stop himself. He wasn't Gina; he could go for more than thirty seconds without a phone in his hand. His reaching fingers detoured for the tissue box and he grabbed one tissue, then another, like a magician pulling an endless thread of scarves from his sleeve. Except after the third tissue that was it. Jake picked up the box and looked inside, just in case, but it was definitely empty. "Shit," he said aloud, giving his nose a rub with the last few tissues and trying to sniff back a developing tickle.

The urge to sneeze only crept in after he noticed he was officially out of tissues. At least he still had toilet paper, but it was a lot rougher on his sore nose. If he could make it to see tomorrow he would steal a box from Amy. Or maybe he would wake up fully recovered from this nightmare of a cold, with no need for tissues.

At this rate the prospect of health was woefully improbable. The tickle remained, constant and irritating, but not urgent enough to incite any chance of relief. It was starting to get really annoying, this whole being sick thing. Two weeks of sneezing, wheezing, coughing, and cloudy thinking was so not his jam. He could not even get himself to focus on the case for more than fifteen seconds at a time. Amy always scolded him for thinking about work on the weekends - Amy, who jumped at almost every chance for an extra Saturday shift - but Jake could not always help where his mind wandered. Tonight it was going to some pretty strange places. He guessed had the fever to thank for that, but he didn't own a thermometer so he couldn't be sure.

He headed towards the bathroom, stopping halfway down the hall as his chest rose with a jagged breath. Squinting, Jake stared stupidly at the unlit light bulb above him. The light was off, of course, but mind prevailed over matter. “hehh… heh’yishhoo!” He braced himself weakly against the wall as the second sneeze barreled at full force past his weakened defenses. "IHSSHHuu!"

He directed it at the floor in front of him. Well, directed made it sound like he chose to have some input in the matter, when in reality he was just too tired to do anything else. Besides, he saw no need to cover when he lived by himself. It was just him and his germs here. He groaned in the aftermath, feeling worse than before. His head was aching now and his brain felt like cold scrambled eggs.

The tickle fluttered in his sinuses, demanding more of his limited attention. Trying to avoid looking in the mirror (he already knew he looked terrible), Jake grabbed a roll of toilet paper from under the sink. When he stood back up his breath caught in his chest, forcing out a few coughs before he could even open his mouth. His lips parted slowly, the last of the tissues in the fisted hand that hung uselessly at his side. His whole body felt useless, at the mercy of whatever virus was ravaging his system. After a few tortuous seconds the urge died a sudden and unexpected death, leaving behind a dull buzz in his sinuses. Jake relaxed with a sigh, scrubbing at his nose furiously to obliterate any trace of imminent sneeziness.

He dropped the tissues in the garbage can and finally went to refill his mug. Jake held the steaming mug just below his chin and closed his eyes, savoring the soothing sensation of damp heat on his sore face. A bath would have been even better for all of his aching parts, but he only had a shower and he did not think he could stand for more than thirty seconds at a time. This would have to do.

The steam seemed to ease some of the pressure in his sinuses but the rest of his muscles remained tense and achy. As much as he felt like drinking the tea might help, he could not bring himself to take a sip. His throat was inflamed from the infection and raw from coughing, so every swallow brought on a fresh wave of pain. There were times he thought he might choke; his neck felt swollen, like he got his head trapped in an inner tube. It felt like trying to breathe while being slowly squeezed to death by a large python.

Jake put the mug on his coffee table. His eyelids were getting heavy and he decided he did not want any more liquid sloshing around in his body. Curling up on the couch, he pulled a knit blanket haphazardly off the back of the couch and over his body. His feet were left uncovered and he only had one sock on, but he decided he would live and closed his eyes.

It was daylight in an instant. Jake swore there was no way it could be morning already - it didn't even feel like he slept - but the sunlight streaming through the bent blinds was undeniable. He groaned loudly, wishing there was someone around to pay attention to him or acknowledge his agony. When he finally got himself to sit upright he could feel the weight of the congestion slowly draining from his head like wet sand from an hour glass. The sludgy trickle put into motion a whole slew of events, the first being a harsh, productive, and seemingly unending coughing fit. Between hacking coughs and gasping breaths he unspooled some toilet paper, preparing for what would inevitably come next.

"h'KFXshh!-EIShhhu!... huh-EHSSHhhoo! Nngh..." He capped it off with a rattling groan for good measure, letting his face sink into the rough sea of scratchy toilet paper. What a way to start a Monday morning.

He sneezed at least twenty more times over the course of the morning, from the time he stepped into the steamy hot shower until he pulled into the parking garage at work. Jake wondered idly if being sick as fuck qualified as a temporary disability but passed over the handicapped spots in favor of the empty one next to Boyle's car. He began the trek down to the station, but not before chugging down a green smoothie he bought from the 7-Eleven in hopes it would make him healthy again. It tasted like a wet compost heap, but desperate times called for desperate measures. Tossing the half-empty container of green sludge at the nearest trash can, Jake stumbled down the stairwell and onto the elevator. He had to stop several times on the way to catch his breath or regain his balance, and was grateful for the chance to lean against the walls of the elevator and rest for a few seconds.

"No," Amy said the instant the doors opened and she made eye contact with him. She was up and out of her seat in an instant, cutting him off at the entrance to the bullpen. "No," she repeated. "Don't even think about it, Peralta."

Jake watched dumbly as she fiddled with a small device before taking his arm. He was momentarily stunned by the stern usage of his last name and the unexpected physical contact, an opportunity Amy seized to run the temporal thermometer across his forehead. Before he realized what was happening the little machine was beeping and Amy was shoving it back in his face. "What does that say?" she demanded, sounding almost terrifying enough that Jake had to wonder if she and Rosa switched bodies in some Freaky Friday incident.

"Uhh..." He squinted at the numbers. "102.8... that's dorbuhl, right?"

"Not at all," she said. She was holding his arm again, but this time he could feel a gentle tug, like she was trying to leash train an easily distracted dog. "Especially not for two weeks. Let's go, Jake. You're going to the hospital."

"Come on, Ambes," Jake said playfully, but it came out sounding a little croaky, which did not help his cause at all. The other detectives were looking at them now, so Jake added, more quietly and with just a hint of desperation, "Dod't bake a big deal out of this."

"Yeah, Amy, he's obviously fine," Rosa said, making Jake jump as she seemingly appeared out of nowhere.

Amy looked at Rosa in disbelief. "He's clearly not fine," she said, but the other detective gave her a look. Jake was usually pretty good at interpreting Rosa’s looks, but certainly not while his brain was being charbroiled by a sky high body temperature.

"We're just talking to some new victims today," said Rosa. She seemed to speak woodenly, like a ventriloquist dummy, which usually meant she was not being entirely truthful. “It's not exactly physically demanding work. Besides, a little fever never killed anyone... right?"

Something seemed to click and Amy was suddenly on board with this plan. "Yeah, and we'll need all the manpower we can get," she said.

"Just to interview a couple of vics?" Charles asked, earning himself a nearly simultaneous "Shut up, Charles!" from his female colleagues.

The next thing Jake knew he was back in the elevator between Rosa and Amy. He felt like he'd missed something, some key moment in their conversation that led to this sudden change of heart. This suspicion was reinforced by the way Amy and Rosa kept glancing at one another, as if communicating telepathically. Jake could feel the gears grinding in his brain as he tried to understand what was happening, creating so much heat and smoke he felt his head might explode.

Rosa sat behind the wheel of the cruiser and Jake fell into the back seat. He left the front seat open for Amy, so he was surprised when she joined him in the back. "Really, I'be fide," he insisted, mistaking her vigilance for concern.

"Burn rubber, Rosa," Amy said without answering or even looking at Jake.

They were heading in the opposite direction of the neighborhood where the first sets of robberies took place. "Adduther robbery, huh?" Jake asked, a little slow on the uptake. He watched the buildings pass in a mostly gray blur. "Where'd this wud happehd?"

"Blow your nose, you sound disgusting," Rosa said, tossing a pack of tissues at his head without taking her eyes off the road.

He obliged, after a long struggle to break the tissues free from their plastic casing. Amy gave him a tender, apologetic look after the first unproductive blow. Nothing but hot air against inflammation. He tried again and felt some of the congestion budge, but the tissue was still spotless. That would have to be good enough for now. He closed his eyes and let his head loll against his shoulder, the seatbelt cradling the side of his face.

When he opened his eyes again they were pulling up to the Brooklyn Hospital Center. "What are..." he began, trailing off when he realized what was happening.

"Jake, you need to-"

"No, Amy, I don't need to anything," he said. He moved to unbuckle his seatbelt.

"Where do you think you're going?"

In all honesty he had no idea. He felt betrayed and he was mad about being tricked into coming here, but they were right. He needed to get this checked out and he was an idiot for not doing it sooner. The only issue was…

"I don't have health insurance.”

Amy and Rosa both looked at him blankly. "What?" Rosa said.

"I forgot to sign up for the health insurance," he said, more clearly, though he was certain she heard him the first time. He coughed against his arm and added, "I had the paperwork but I lost it... by the time I remembered to look for it, they said it was too late to enroll. So if you don't mind, I'd rather not get a huge hospital bill, thanks.”

They were quiet. Jake didn't know what they were thinking and he didn't care. All he knew was he wish he never left the apartment today. He thought they might sit there forever, blocking ambulances that were trying to get into the emergency room parking lot, but Rosa threw the car into reverse and backed up suddenly, nearly giving Jake whiplash. "Free clinic it is, then," she said.

Jake never stepped foot in the Brooklyn Free Clinic in his life, preferring to ride out his pains and illnesses at home with dignity. The people all looked miserable, bundled up in their dirty snow colored winter wear and crammed into uncomfortable waiting room seats. Rosa dumped him and Amy in the waiting room before leaving to retrieve the employee list that the daycare was faxing over. Someone still had to work the case, but someone also had to keep an eye on Jake, who could not be trusted to stay put without supervision.

The receptionist asked him to fill out a ton of paperwork. All so the nurse practitioner could tell him he had a cold and to take it easy, which he'd been doing. Jake left quite a few spaces blank on the forms, for the information he could not remember. There were easier questions he could not answer because gripping the pen was becoming too difficult, and there were too many words on the page, and one of the overhead lights kept flickering, making it impossible for him to concentrate. He nudged Amy gently and persistently until she looked up from her Time magazine from 2005. "You wouldn't happen to know my social security number, would you?" he whispered.

"Seriously?"

He tried his best to look horribly offended at her tone, but his face hurt too much. "Just checking."

Jake just started on the last page, which required so much initialling and signing he thought his hand might fall off, when his nose began to itch. Putting the pen down, he brought his hand up to cover his mouth when Amy gave him a sharp nudge with her elbow. Jake managed to reign it in just enough to follow her stern gaze to a sign on the wall across from them. It was the same "Cover your Cough" sign they had in at least three different rooms at the precinct. Jake adjusted his position to mimic the one held by the stick figure drawing on the poster. Amy gave him a nod of approval, which was all he needed to-

"ehk’Gcshhue!"

That one felt kind of good. It was certainly a welcome bit of relief after a morning of harsh sneezes that scraped his throat raw, so much that he allowed another to slip past his defenses, a comparatively softer “ehshhuu!" that elicited several blessings from the waiting room crowd, including Amy. The sneezes left him a little lightheaded but with a pleasant buzz of relief so intense he could feel it deep in his cheeks.

"Here," she said, pushing another pack of tissues over to him across the top of the magazine table.

"Why does everywud have these?" he asked, sniffling as he turned the pack over curiously in his hands. "Charles kept throwing theb at be from across the roob last week like a bascot with a t-shirt caddid, except dot as fuhd."

"There was a hygiene seminar while you were out and they had a lot of free merch," she said, with a hint of smugness that Jake felt was unwarranted given the incredible dorkiness of her statement. "I scored a ton of coupons to CVS, so I am stocked up for next flu season, baby."

"Hygeed sebiddar?"

"Yes, hygiene seminar," Amy said with the same emphasis. "The wellness committee has a small but generous fund for health seminars, healthy cooking demonstrations, hand sanitizer for the office..."

Jake stopped mid-blow to look at her in disbelief. "Welldess cobbittee?"

"Yes, Jake, I'm the hygiene officer, remember? Me, the Sarge, some guys from the weekend crew, the Vulture… though he rarely comes to meetings and seems to be under the impression that germs can talk…”

Jake stared at her incredulously. In all honesty, he thought the whole hygiene officer thing was just a joke– he did not realize there was an actual committee – but he knew better to admit that to Amy in his vulnerable state. Instead he focused on the second most shocking bit of information. "He thinks gerbs can talk?"

"Are you just going to keep repeating what I say as a question?"

He almost smirked. "As a question?" he said, and if Rosa was here he would have been smacked, but since it was Amy he got to watch her do that cute little trying-not-to-smile thing while she folded her arms and looked away. "You're lucky you're not feeling well."

"Or what?" Jake asked, eyebrows lifted as if in challenge.

"Or I wouldn't offer to take that paperwork up for you," she said, biting her lip. "I don't want you to risk walking up there. You barely made it the first time."

It was true; an old man with a walker who came in behind them made it to the front desk before he did. Jake squirmed in his chair, wishing his jacket was as puffy and thick as the one on the person sitting in front of him, or that he owned a scarf or gloves or something to keep the rest of him from freezing. He was hot and cold at the same time, but mostly cold. Amy seemed too keenly aware of his discomfort, but didn't know what else to do to help besides take the clipboard from him and walk it back to the receptionist. Jake looked at her empty seat, then the two empty seats beside it. There was a man in the seat after that, sitting next to a middle aged woman who appeared to be looking after her child or grandchild. Jake almost jumped out of his skin when he noticed the man looking straight at him.

"Hello," Jake said, more out of surprise than any desire to be polite or social. The man immediately looked away, muttering to himself, and Jake gave an uneasy "Okay..." before turning his attention to the returning Amy.

"Did they give you a number?" he asked her.

"This isn't a deli," said Amy, sitting back down next to him. She settled on a Time from a more recent year for entertainment, leaving Jake feeling like his commentary would only be an interruption. He was feeling more alert after his car nap, so he picked up a magazine about traveling and flipped through the pages, his eyes skimming the words on the page.

It wasn't until Amy asked "Wow, again?" that he realized his eyes were starting to close, and he had absolutely no say in the matter. He pressed his nose against the crook of his arm and did his best to stifle them into silence, failing miserably. His sinuses had taken too much abuse these past couple of weeks to comply with such an absurd expectation. "-ehfkxshhhu! hehp'TSCHhhue!"

"Bless-"

His head snapped back down for a third. "ehIHshhuu!"

Amy waited as Jake used the rest of the travel pack tissues to clear his sinuses. "Bless you," she finished.

“Ugh, thagks...”

His ears unclogged a bit and the sounds of the waiting room became clearer and more distinct. He could hear the man to his left muttering again. Jake thought nothing of it – there were plenty of people in this city who talked to themselves – but he felt his blood run cold when he made out a soft pair of “bless you”s through the static of the stranger’s mumbling. Two blessings for three sneezes.

Jake tried not to stare at the man, but he felt that there was no way he could let him out of his sight. Even in the absence of any solid evidence, he was starting to get that feeling, perhaps a deeply ingrained instinct or just a hunch, that this was the person he was looking for. The probability of running into their perpetrator randomly at a free health clinic was slim, but Jake held fast to the belief that there were no coincidences in police work. He and the man made eye contact over the top of Amy’s head and Jake did his best to play it cool. The stranger broke his gaze first, turning to the woman beside him and saying something Jake could not hear. He watched them carefully, so focused that he almost fell out of his seat when he heard the receptionist call out “Jake Peralta?” The stranger looked back up as if he recognized the name, glanced at Jake, and then stood up abruptly, muttering something about needing the restroom.

“Hey,” Jake said, nudging Amy as his eyes followed the man across the waiting room. She followed his gaze but did not seem to pick up on his suspicion. Jake felt his muscles starting to tense as instinctively as a dog raising its hackles, and tried to suppress his natural inclination to run. When that failed Amy stepped in, grabbing his arm as he stood up so abruptly the world started spinning.

“Where do you think you’re going?” she demanded.

“That guy…” he said, staring dumbly at the closing restroom door.

“What about him?”

Jake found himself sinking back into the seat as the energy drained from his body. It felt like he had actually chased someone and now his body was giving him hell for it. The blood in his veins felt like ice water and he could not get himself to stop shivering. “They called for you…” Amy said.

Jake stared at the restroom door. He had a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach.

“Peralta,” Amy said more firmly, though he could detect concern and something like fear in her voice. “Do you need me to-”

“I’m fine,” Jake said suddenly, closing his eyes and shifting in his seat. “I’m fine...”

After a few seconds of mental and physical preparation he hoisted himself back onto his feet. He could feel Amy’s eyes on him as he took one step, then another. His legs trembled and he stopped in place, the sounds and sights of the room evaporating in a thick haze. He was vaguely aware of a child wailing loudly further down the row, the noise exacerbating the throbbing in his temples, even as it blurred into muddy nothingness with the rest of the sounds in the room. The last thing Jake could remember hearing was Amy calling his name, from what sounded like a thousand miles away.

Edited January 21, 2016 by AnonyMouse

[stephab13]

Jaaaaaaaaaaaaaaake.

Ohhhh, poor guy. I really do feel sorry for him. I'm glad he's finally actually given in and letting them take care of him - I can totally relate to the wanting-someone-there he goes through - though, as always, a little too late? I think I want to make soup for him though. Or maybe arroz caldo. Does he eat (spicy) rice? Cos it's amazing for throats and colds... and sinuses...

Kendra texted Jake. It was impersonal, just a Hey how's it going followed by Case?

I see what you did there! This made me grin so much :-)

Trying to avoid looking in the mirror (he already knew he looked terrible), Jake grabbed a roll of toilet paper from under the sink. When he stood back up his breath caught in his chest, forcing out a few coughs before he could even open his mouth. His lips parted slowly, the last of the tissues in the fisted hand that hung uselessly at his side. His whole body felt useless, at the mercy of whatever virus was ravaging his system. After a few tortuous seconds the urge died a sudden and unexpected death, leaving behind a dull buzz in his sinuses.

You're really good at pulling the sympathy strings, but this is a beautiful little paragraph. I love those little glimpses into his world. Like, we know how terrible he feels, but it's great that he's admitting it to himself. Ughhhh and it's all just so futile and helpless and STOP MAKING ME WANT TO HUG HIM AND FEED HIM AND GIVE HIM TISSUE BOXES

"No," Amy said the instant the doors opened and she made eye contact with him. She was up and out of her seat in an instant, cutting him off at the entrance to the bullpen. "No," she repeated. "Don't even think about it, Peralta."

YES. It's about bloody time. Stupid idiot Jake.

Two blessings for three sneezes.

Ooohhhhhhhhh. I've read this 3 or 4 times now but oh. I see what you did! Clever girl.

I love this, I really do. It's an awesome story by itself, but, just, sick!Jake is so wonderfully adorable and his/your sneezes are perfection and THANK YOU for writing it. Can't wait to see what happens next!!!!

[Zwee]

Ugghhh this is too gooooood!!!

The suspense is amazing and it's also killing me!

I want to go on a crazy quoting rampage and tell you all the amazing things from the last two chapters that I LOVED but I have a midterm in 15 minutes, so I have to be brief.

This just tugged at my heart, I feel so BAD for him, poor guy. As usual you managed to capture his suffering brilliantly and relatably and I LOVE THIS.

CANNOT WAIT FOR NEXT PART

[Bruyere]

This is amazing. I am enjoying it just as much for the case itself as for poor Sick Jake. I loved Rosa and Amy's telepathy and teaming up. Poor Jake didn't stand a chance!

[abigailwatson]

You write these characters so well! My favourite part was when Jake sneezed into his shirt while on the phone