#elsaclack

Detective Jake Peralta had a bounce in his step as he balanced a loaded pizza in his left hand and unlocked the door with the other, all while singing one of his signature "ski-ba-dee-bop-bop-bop" tunes. Having put in several hours of overtime, Jake’s stomach demanded satisfaction. Since the combined culinary skills of his roommate (read, the love of his life) were mostly restricted to boiled eggs - whether the egg turned out hard or soft was forever a toss-up - and ramen noodles, Jake opted for pizza. You could never go wrong with pizza, something he and said roommate firmly agreed on. Pizza was the food equivalent of happiness, and making Amy happy was one of Jake's biggest pleasures.

 ***

 “Y’okay?”

It’s thisvoice, amongst a sea of others, that catches Amy’sattention. Her eyes rise from her computer screen, and it’s like she comes back to life,snapping out of a daydream; suddenly, she’sstarkly aware of how dry her eyes feel, from staring absently at her screen,and of the concerned expression with which Jake examines her.

“Yeah, uh,” she clears her throat, “yeah. I’m fine.”

“Sure? Y’know, it’s almost the end of the day anyway, I don’t mind taking you home if you’re not feelin’ it.” Jake saysit simply, like it’s nothing, but she knows it’s a favour, a pity-offer.

“That’s nice,” shereplies genuinely, “but I’m really okay. Just tired.”

“Sure. Hey, I think there’s some takeout in the break room, ifyou’re hungry.”

“Oh, okay,” she says quietly, smiling gratefullyover at him.

She clears her throat again, attempting to expel thattightness in her chest, and stands up, deciding a snack and some cold water tothe face     will wake her up a little-she’s still got work to do, and she’s not packing up any time soon.

As she moves, she subconsciously feels herself avoidingeyes. The whole squad’s beenwatching her, and she knows it. Just this morning, her grandfather passed away-and she would have been able to keep it secret, were it not for the fact thatGina had answered the phone this morning, apparently expecting one of Amy’s “nerdfriends” and instead being greetedwith her tearful mother.

It’s notlike she minds things like this interfering with her work day- in fact, she’s more distracted by the devastationaching through her mind and her body, like a numbness just waiting to build up intotears. It’s just the fact that everyoneknows, and everyone’s treading on eggshells around her.She’s barely worked here a year, justabout falling into a rhythm with everyone, and now, just because she’s not quite close enough with anyoneyet, it’s fallen into awkwardness.Even Jake, the biggest pain in her ass since she picked up this job, is beingunbearably kind.

Quickly, she heads for the break room, sighing to herself inrelief at the slight stretch in her legs from standing up and moving around, apleasant contrast to what must have been at leastfifteen minutes sat in silence.

Once she’s inthe breakroom, she finds herself exhaling deeply, finally out of sight fromeveryone else. On the table are a few boxes; some tacos, some chips, somefries- it’s bland, but it’ll do, she thinks, picking at itmindlessly.

It’ssoothing, filling her up quickly.

Right up until, that is, a piercing shout comes from thebullpen.

“HEY!”

It’s Rosa’s voice, but it’s too loud, too much of a warning.

Before she really knows what she’s doing, Amy’s feetare carrying her into the bullpen. It’s aperp, and he’s running- straight towardsher. Rosa’s on the ground next to herdesk, grabbing her shin and breathing hard through gritted teeth. She’s been hurt.

“Amy!” Rosa yells, and at once, Amy snaps back to life. With notime to grab her gun, she’sthrowing herself towards the burly man headed towards her, aiming to debilitatehim with perfect procedure- but he’s twosteps ahead of her, latching onto her wrist and spinning her round so she’s in front of him, held tightly infront of him with her arm behind his back.

“Let me walk and I won’t grab her gun,” he says casually, as if he’s done this a thousand times before.Come to think of it, Amy realises, he probably has. Her mind buzzes, her heartpounding in her chest, immediately thinking about what to do next. Knock himout? Make a move? Stay still?

The entire room is at a complete standstill- Rosa, Charles,and Terry all have their guns pointed at him, which only makes Amy feel sick;while those guns are pointed at him, they’repointed at her, too.

Her eyes scam the bullpen for Jake, but he’s out of his desk, nowhere to be seen.Great. Probably gone for a pee, entirely clueless.

She tightens a little, trying to pull away, but he onlygrabs her tighter, causing her to grimace a little. What a day- losing a familymember, experiencing her most awkward, sad, and slow day at work yet, and beingused as a meat-shield by a runaway perp.

“You’ve got five,” hesays calmly- his voice reverberates against Amy’s back,almost making her shiver. “Four,three, two- unf”

He’s cutoff as he drops to the floor.

Amy spins round to see Jake, holding the guy’s hand behind his back, keeping himagainst the floor with his foot. The whole room seems to breathe a sigh ofrelief; Rosa, though she clearly shouldn’t bewalking, heads straight towards them, and soon enough Terry’s moving over too. Jake, however,remains entirely focused on Amy, his expression still, and tense, and worried,entirely fixated among the chaos of the room.

Terry’smuttering something to the perp about CCTV, and the charges he’s just added for himself byassaulting a cop. Rosa’shissing curses under her breath. Charles is explaining the entire situation toMcGinley, who apparently missed the whole thing.

To Amy, it’s allan even thicker blur, stood watching it all happen, and directly in the middleof it all is Jake, his voice repeating over and over again at her.

“Amy.” His voice is quiet, but he’s allshe really hears.

“I’m fine, thank you for… for…” she says dismissively, moving awayfrom the centre of the bullpen, her head pounding. Air. She needs air.

Faster than she anticipated, she’s outside, sinking against the wall to her knees. Thelate-Autumn Brooklyn evening whispers a brief shiver down her spine, and herarm aches gently from where

His voice catches up with her, but she’s already lost herself, anxietythrumming painfully in her mind, pushing her until she’s curling up, her head dropping into her hands.

“Amy.” He’sbeside her, crouched down, his hand on her arm. “Did hehurt you?”

“I don’t-”

“Did he hurt you?” Jake’s voiceis firm, far more protective than she’s everheard him before. It has her a little taken aback, just for a moment. She feelsherself starting to focus again, the fear slipping away, and she looks up athim. His face is almost angry, brow furrowed, to the point where it almostworries her. She’s never seen him like this.

“No, I’m fine.”

“I could’ve punched him,” Jake mutters resentfully, rollinghis eyes. “I can’t believe it was you… andwith the day you’ve had, too”

“Has that happened before?”

“Yeah. Although, in my fouryears on the force, I’ve onlyseen two other runners.”

“Idiots,” she says quietly, pressing the backof her wrist against her eye. “Y’know, I could have dealt with that bymyself. I was about to go for his stomach with my elbow.” She knows she’s beingstubborn, but she’d rather die than look weak.

“Yeah, I know, are youkidding?” Jake says, smiling in thatway he always does towards her defensiveness. Any other day, she’d find it annoying. Right now, thenormality of it is so perfect it almost makes her cry. “I acted on instinct. Something about seeing you like thatmade me move, without thinking. Eh, I don’t know.”

“Probably a pretty stupidmove,” Amy grins, and he laughs alittle.

“Next time I’ll let you fight your corner.”

“Thanks.”

Jake laughs.

“No,” she interjects, “I meanthank you for helping me.”

“Don’t be stupid, anyone would have done it for their partner,for their friend.”

She smiles over at him for a moment. They don’t move, the noise of Brooklyn trafficfilling the silence between them.

“I think I need to go home,” she says quietly.

“Let me take you.”

“No, it’s fine, really.”

“Amy,” he looks at her simply, “I’m not letting you go home alone. You’ve lost someone important and justbeen attacked.”

“I wasn’t attacked,” she mutters. Jake doesn’t reply, just looking at her,eyebrows raised. “Okay, fine,” she gives in. “I need to get my stuff.” She stands up and brushes herselfdown, inwardly praying she’s notsat in anything gross.

“Nope, I’m being a good friend now, this is it,this is my duty-” he jumps in, and before shecan object he’s running back into theprecinct.

Within minutes, he’s backby her side, leading her to his car, chatting about some candy store downtownthat sells the exact brand of Mexican gummy bears he likes, and it’s dark outside, and cold, and all sheneeds to do is sit in his passenger seat and listen.

And when she starts to cry, silently, letting this awful dayescape her, and he apologises, she knows it’s notfor his stories about candy. It’s forthis absolute bitch of a world.

In the darkness, she finds herself leaning across her seatinto his arms, and crying, for lord only knows how long, in a feat that neitherof them will mention for months.

He’s warm,and still, and accepting. Calm. Ready to be there for her, just as he’d been in the bullpen.

And though it’s along while before she’lladmit it, it’s the safest she’s ever felt.