New Years' Eve and a Thosand Push-Ups (Brooklyn Nine Nine, Jake)

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Hey guys! HAPPY NEW YEAR! So I was talking to... you guessed it!... AnonyMouse and got a lovely idea for Jake getting sick at the academy and *slight spoiler alert but not really* Rosa taking care of him. And I'm running off to a party but I HOPE YOU ENJOY IT! :-)

Unbelievable. This is utterly unbelievable.

It took him nearly a month to gather the courage to talk to her. She always sat alone in class, near the back, always a seat in from the aisle and always in an empty row. The first week people had tried to sit next to her, but nobody tried more than once. He didn’t know what she said to scare them off, but by the third week, people just knew not to approach her. Jake always tried to sit behind her so he could stare at her dark curly hair. Not too objectify her – no, he just wanted to pull a ringlet and watch it bounce back into place – see if the snappish personality stretched all the way to elasticise her hair too.

It took him a month to really find where he fit in the academy. He was bright enough, creative enough, to breeze through the majority of his classes without putting in too much effort. He was able to flit into his class-clown role easily, and that made him pretty well-liked on the whole. He could name most of his classmates, and have a conversation with any of them…

But not her.

So a month in, he finally got the confidence to sit next to her one day, in Crim Investigation.

“What do you want, dumb-dumb?”

Normally he’d flash a smile, but something gave him the idea it wouldn’t have the desired effect. So he went with honesty. “TO get to know the mysterious beauty in half my classes. What’s your deal?”

The girl rolled her eyes. “Not interested. Goodbye.”

But Jake was gutsy, and too obsessed to give up that easily. “How about we start with a name?” He grinned, settling into small-annoying-child mode. “My name is Jake. Jake Peralta.” He held out a hand. “What’s yours?”

It took all his will-power not to laugh at her puzzled expression. Apparently she wasn’t used to people not listening to her. “Not important. Get lost.”

“Weird name. Is it Not Important Get Lost? Or is Not Important your last name?”

“Ugh. Why are you talking to me?”

“Because being horribly annoying is kinda my thing and if I’m going to work with you one day, I’m going to need to know your deal. Why are you so scared of making friends?”

The girl just grunted again and turned to the side, crossing her arms. “Leave me alone.”

“Alright, alright, alright. Strong and silent. I can work with that.” He settled back into his seat, watching the lecturer pace back and forth and gesture wildly at the projector screen with a laser pointer. Then, like it had a mind of its own, his fingers found their way into her hair, pulling quickly on a loose ringlet. “BOING!”

“Do that again and I will break all your fingers, one by one, and make it look like an accident.”

“So I take it if I ask you out on a date, it’d be a no?”

The girl glared at him. “Like I said before. I’m not. Interested.”

“Cool, cool, cool, cool, cool. That’s cool.” Jake pulled again at her hair, smirking. “How about we make a deal. You tell me your name and I’ll talk to you at my normal annoyance level?”

And something seemed to change. Because the girl almost smiled. “Rosa,” she said, before punching him in the arm.

And from there, they struck up a… something. Not quite a friendship, but more than just an acquaintance. They’d sit together in Crim Studies, debating which crime every lecturer had committed and how long they could put them away for. They were partners for hazard training and spent the class plotting which hazards they would use on which instructor. And then, they’d work-out together, in class and out, because, sure, the threat of an armed robber getting away was great but nothing was as motivating as an angry Diaz a few paces behind.

Cue a few months later, and people were making plans for New Years’ Eve. Half of the guys were stuck at the academy, Jake and Diaz included, and there were parties everywhere. Their instructors had all given them the night off… and Jake was determined to do something.

“Come on, Rosa… You’ve been here for months. Don’t you have any other friends?”

He could see the classic eye-roll of frustration. “No. I don’t have friends. I put up with you.”

“Awww, and I love you too, Diaz.” He could see the tiny quirk in the corner of her mouth. “Let’s just go to one party, alright? It’ll be awesome. A thousand push-ups.”

She raised an eyebrow. “A thousand push-ups? I don’t know what that means.”

“That means…” He gazed around the work-out room, looking for inspiration. “That means if you hate it, I’ll do a thousand push-ups. If I’m wrong, I do a thousand push-ups. So I must be pretty damn certain.”

“OR pretty damn insane.”

“Such a charmer.”

Then Rosa looked directly at him. Her mouth pursed in a little – he’d noticed she did that when she was considering options. And finally… “Okay.”

“Wait – what?”

“Okay. I’ll go to one of your dumb parties. And when you see how dumb it all is, I’m going to sit right…” She swung herself up like a gymnast, feet first in a backsault, onto a monkey bar. “… here and watch you do those thousand push-ups. And laugh. Hysterically.”

Jake just grinned. “So we have a deal?”

“A thousand push-ups,” she nodded.

“A thousand push-ups,” he returned.

… That was two weeks ago. Two whole weeks of teasing Diaz about wearing a dress and looking pretty and fielding comments about how pretty his face would look after she’d beaten it into a pulp.

Finally, the day is here.

And Jake is sending a text, knowing full-well that in five minutes she’ll be banging down his door regardless. She’s not known for reading her text messages. But he can’t do it – not tonight.

He hasn’t been sick in years, but apparently it’s the season for it. His idiot of a roommate had spent the last few nights in sick bay, but apparently Jake still spent too much time around him… His throat burns whenever he swallows, his head pounds alongside his heart, and he’s so congested that he’s pretty sure his cheekbones are more swollen than his nose… which really is saying something, considering how prominent his nose actually is. His defining feature, one might say. He’s pretty sure half of Rosa’s threats revolve around ripping the appendage off his face.

“Heh? Hk’KNXT! NXT! KiiiiNXISHHH’uh!!”

Ughh…. He pulls a couple of Kleenex from the box on his bedside table, wiping his hands. He really doesn’t want Rosa to see him this way… It took so long for them to be friends and now he’s just going to scare her away with how disgusting he is…

He’s blowing his nose (not that it does anything, he’s so congested that nothing comes out, it just aggravates his sinuses) when the banging starts. His ears are pretty blocked but he thinks he can make out the low, angry yelling. Groaning, he throws the tissues half-heartedly at his trashcan, heaving himself upwards.

“Cobigg, I’b cobigg… Heh’KNXT!”

He doesn’t even have the energy to feel ashamed as he shoves his face into more tissues and opens the door.

“You look wo-… wodder… heh’KNXTSHH’OO!... wodderful,” he finishes weakly, spinning to let the girl in and sit back on his bed. And she does, she really does. Her hair is half-pulled back and she’s in some flowy-pink thing that he’d love to call a dress but doesn’t want to risk a kick in the nads.

“Jesus, Jake.”

“I duddo ‘bout you, but I ca’t see Jesus. Is he dext to you?”

“You know that’s not what I meant.” Rosa perches herself on his roommate’s bed, watching him. “Why didn’t you tell me you were sick?”

He coughs, feeling it scrape against the back of his throat, and Rosa winces. “Check your phode.”

“My… what?”

“Phode. Phode… Cell phode…” No amount of sniffing can turn his Ns back into n’s, and his voice breaks on the last attempt. “KNXT!”

“Stop dying already.” She pulls a face – thinking face. “Bless you…”

Her words – the caring – shocks him into another coughing spell. And when he manages to sit up, eyes streaming, Rosa’s poured a glass of water and putting it into his hands.

“Do I need to take you to sick bay?”

He shakes his head. “It’s a colde. A bad ode but just a colde.”

“Jesus, Jake.”

“Agaid, cand’t see hib but tell hib it’s a pleasure.”

Rosa slaps him, but it’s gentle. “Guess even a virus can’t steal your sarcasm.”

“And thack God for… that… huhhhh’KNXTSHH’OO!”

“You are so gross.” But Rosa laughs suddenly. “Guess our bet is off, huh?”

It takes him a minute and half a glass of water to process. “The thousadd push-ups?”

“Yeah – I bet you can’t even do one right now!”

He’s too tired to bother disagreeing. “I’b sorry. Todight was beandt to be fud…”

Rosa smiles – a genuine one. It’s tiny and small, but her eyes are involved too. “Well… New Years Eve isn’t my thing anyway.” She pulls out a bottle of vodka – he doesn’t know how he missed the brown bag, but it’s definitely there now. “Why don’t we stay here? We’ve got booze… we’ve got hella tissues… and you have how many copies of the Die Hard movies?”

He gives her a goofy smile – one side of his face moves more than the other, he can feel it. “Stay up late, wadtchigg badly stories?”

“Not if you keep quoting Shrek.” But Rosa settles herself down, opening the bottle and taking a swig. “But Die Hard beats drunk people any day. Drunk people suck.”

He tries to sniff, leaning back against his headboard. “Thacks…”

Rosa rolls her eyes. “Enough with the chick moments or I’ll put on Saw.” But then she smiles again, grabs the box of Kleenex and sits down next to Jake, pulling his head onto her neck. “But you’re welcome. That’s what friends are for, right?”

“Awwww. Are we friedds dow?”

“Don’t push your luck.”

He rubs his cheek against Rosa’s shoulder, getting comfy. “Doh. We’re friedds. Thousadd push-ups.”

He can feel the groan in her chest, but it’s all theatrics. She pushes hair off his face and smiles once more. “Yeah. A thousand push-ups.”

[Bruyere]

Aww, this was adorable. I love Jake's stubborn perseverance and the emerging friendship between him and Rosa.

He rubs his cheek against Rosa’s shoulder, getting comfy. “Doh. We’re friedds. Thousadd push-ups.”
He can feel the groan in her chest, but it’s all theatrics. She pushes hair off his face and smiles once more. “Yeah. A thousand push-ups.”

So cute!

[Anonymouse]

Oh my god my stupid phone just deleted my entire comment. Hopefully I can remember what I said...

Basically, this is my new favorite thing ever. I refuse to believe they met any other way. Jake would be the only one brave (or stupid?) enough to attempt to breach her tough exterior, and the only one stupidly charming enough to succeed. The BOING thing had me rolling. So did his playful insistence that Jesus was present when she came to his room. And this part:

His throat burns whenever he swallows, his head pounds alongside his heart, and he’s so congested that he’s pretty sure his cheekbones are more swollen than his nose… which really is saying something, considering how prominent his nose actually is. His defining feature, one might say. He’s pretty sure half of Rosa’s threats revolve around ripping the appendage off his face.

She would threaten to rip his nose off... and break all his fingers... and generally end him.

They were both so perfectly in character throughout. I don't remember if it was you who said it was difficult to find Rosa's voice but girl, you found it and so much more! I was actually a little intimidated FOR Jake when I read some of her parts. I love how the other students mysteriously stopped sitting next to her. One can only imagine the horrible gruesome things she said to them.

This is 100% how one thousand push-ups originated and nobody can tell me otherwise.

Oh, and the sneezes... I loved the story for what it was but the sneezes were great! You write them so well.