10 and 24 for the festive prompts :)
(please excuse me while I hang my head in shame, for this was 1: received last year, and 2: still didn’t manage to appear before Christmas this year.) 🤦🏼♀️ Best laid plans really do be elusive, huh? @ Anon, I'm sorry this is so late, and I hope you’re still around! ♥️
Prompts - 10: I don’t care what you say, The Nightmare Before Christmas works for Christmas and Halloween! and 24: Secret Santa is bullshit.
(for the sake of this story and b99′s vague timelines, this is set pre-manhunter and post-casecation). (ao3)
all the lights are shining (so brightly everywhere)
Deck the halls with boughs of holly, fa la la la lah, la la lah lahhh …
Amy sighs, tapping her feet - sadly, trapped in a curled up shoe, and does her best to ignore the jingle that comes from its dangling bell.
Tis the season to be jolly, fa la la la lah, la la lah lahhh …
Christmas Carols have always been a favourite of hers, forever singing along to the melody despite being told by many that she really shouldn’t. They were joyful and uplifting and reminders of everything wonderful about the holiday season. But tonight, she’s been standing post for three hours, listening to Z-List celebrity covers of sacred songs of hope; and as a result has spent 85% of her time hatching a plan to find the source of the music and put an end to everyone’s misery.
Don we now our gay apparel, fa la la, fa la la, fa la lahhh …
Jake’s off-key singing voice filters in through her earpiece, and a tiny smile finds it’s way onto her face.
“Troll the ancient yule-tide carol, fa la la la laaaa, la la la laaa! … Wait, troll? That can’t be right! Hey Ames, do you think trolls celebrate Christmas?”
Knowing that answering would blow her cover, Amy remains quiet; nodding slowly both to the beat and her husband’s question as the track fades away and a new atrocity begins.
Seriously, she needs to find out where this music is coming from.
From underneath her undercover position as Head Elf of Candy Cane Lane, Amy shifts uncomfortably, resisting the urge to tug down the tinsel edged skirt that hovered just a little too high for her liking. She wanted to burn the bra she had chosen to wear tonight (digging into her ribcage like it did), save for the fact that it was very expensive and very beautiful, and very much worn this evening with the sole purpose of seducing her husband.
Work had descended into pure madness in the past fortnight, with both her and Jake’s schedules descending from holding relative similarities to polar opposites. And maybe it was the surplus of romantic movies on every single TV channel, or the scores of advertisements reminding her that the holiday season was for being together with loved ones (for Jake Peralta was most certainly Amy’s Loved One) - either way, Amy had begun to miss spending nights alone with her husband something fierce.
Tonight’s plan had been so simple, it had barely required a binder. Wait until it’s nearly Jake’s finish time, don sexy lingerie, cover up with comfy clothes and go pick up her unsuspecting husband from work. Let him unlock the door when finally home, then jump his bones right there on the couch - giving Jake just enough time to discover the red lacy set and look at her the way he always manages to do - like she’s the most beautiful woman in the world. Then, sexy timez. Lots of sexy timez.
And it had all been working so well - until she’d shown up at the precinct unannounced (Jake being too distracted to notice the text she’d sent him), and immediately found herself getting wrapped up in a sting her old squad were devising.
In a spark of true evil, one of Brooklyn’s most elusive drug runners - Art Akemi - had invented a new way to dodge any of his drug shipments from being discovered; deciding to build candy canes around the narcotics so that to the unaware eye, they would appear completely innocuous.
Unfortunately, one of his most recent handovers had gotten mixed up with actual candy canes, resulting in several innocent members of the public ending up in hospital with mysterious drug overdoses. It had taken the 99 and their neighbouring precincts days to piece together Akemi’s plans, and just this afternoon Rosa had been given a lead that suggested a handoff with the kingpin and one of his henchmen would be happening at Santa’s Village that very evening.
It was brazen, to set up an exchange of illegal narcotics in a public access area - particularly, one frequented by children and families alike - but also completely on brand for someone like Akemi. The squad needed to work fast, and work smart; running through the finer details of their mission when Amy had arrived.
And yes, perhaps her FOMOW had reached an all-new peak as she listened to the detectives speak, and perhaps she hadn’t really thought about what she was volunteering herself for - but the next thing Amy knew she was Holly the Christmas Elf, toes squeezed into surprisingly curly shoes as she fielded questions from children and waited for any signs of wrong-doing.
It has been twenty-five minutes since Santa had disappeared to ‘feed the reindeer’ (aka disappearing to the back docks for a quick drag of a cigarette), and just as Amy was beginning to wonder if a search party needs to be called, she feels a gentle tug on her hand, looking down to find a little boy no older than five gazing up at her with awe.
“D’ya think Santa is busy making da presents?"
His eyes are wide - filled with the kind of awe that every child seems to get when they are lulled by the magic of Christmas - and as Amy crouches to match his diminutive height, she can’t help but notice how the unkempt curls on his head remind her of a photo with a similar aged Jake that Karen had once shown her.
(He had been mid-discovery of a fairy garden, one built by his Nana and immediately claimed as his own, and the sheer joy in his face had made Amy’s heart swell, even years later through the faded colours of an oft-cherished photograph.)
“You know, I bet he is.” Scanning the crowd for that familiar mixture of red and white but coming up blank, she turns her attention back to the little boy. “Santa’s magic like that, don’t you think?”
The child’s nod is so enthusiastic the tiny curls on his head begin to bounce, turning quickly as his searching father calls out his name. “Just a little longer, and you can tell him all of your wishes, okay?”
“Da elf said Santa’d building da presents Daddy!” The child runs back towards his father’s outstretched hand, and Amy gives the adult an understanding smile as he lifts his son back into his arms. From his undercover position at a nearby popcorn stand; Jake catches Amy’s eye as she returns to her earlier position, giving him a tiny smile when he throws her a wink.
The topic of parenthood - of them trying to have a baby, one day - had been mentioned by both more than a few times since their anniversary; and the regular use of the word when rather than if ignited a sense of hope in Amy that made her stomach flutter every single time. While the enormity of it all still scared Jake - still scared Amy, if she were to be completely honest - what always seemed to remain after each conversation was the understanding that even if it scared them: together they’d figure out how to get through it.
(Last month’s arrival of Miguel’s baby girl Adamaris, and the sight of Jake cradling her in his careful arms, had definitely not helped, playing on a loop in Amy’s mind for several days after their visit.)
“Nothing beats a bit of Santa magic, hey Santiago?” Jake’s tone is light and playful, and only serves to remind Amy just how much she’s missed talking to him these last few weeks.
Rolling her eyes slightly, she tucks her head downward, playing the pretence of adjusting her costume as she speaks into the hidden mic. “Ha ha, Peralta. Santa is magic, especially to cute kids like that one. No way was I going to be the one to burst the Santa bubble.”
With a stuttered gasp, Jake slaps a hand against his chest, and a passing stranger gives him the side eye. “Wait a minute. Are you suggesting that Santa is fake?!”
“Santa is real, Peralta. As is this very real mission to take down Akemi. Time to focus up.” Terry’s firm tone breaks through the earpiece, busting into Jake and Amy’s conversation, and a sheepish grin breaks out on Jake’s face.
“Right you are, sarge. This is Super Serious Santa Shutdown Situation.” Shoving several pieces of popcorn into his mouth, Jake waits a beat before continuing. “Ames wasn’t wrong, tho. That kid was a cutie.”
The unspoken addition of but ours will be cuter lingers between them, and Amy feels her skin warm up under Jake’s faraway gaze.
Maybe this bra was going to come in use after all.
Rosa’s voice cuts through the unsaid, her tone steady as she moves in closer from her position at a nearby payphone. “Heads up - Santa’s back. And it looks like they’ve swapped out their player.”
Immediately switching into detective mode, Jake shields his face from the new Santa’s sight as he passes, already very aware of earlier (unsuccessful) run-in’s with the kingpin. “That really looks like Akemi.”
“Santiago, can you get close enough to confirm?”
Handing out Christmas tree shaped cookies to the children milling around her position, Amy glances up just in time to catch the replacement Santa as he walks into the village. With the cocky swagger of a man who rarely pays any consequences for his actions, this version of Father Christmas looked paler and far more arrogant than the man wearing the costume earlier.
Pushing past the waiting children with barely any acknowledgment of their tiny hellos, New Santa pauses on his way to his plush red throne; snapping his gum and giving Amy a very jolly (read: creepy) once-over with his eyes. Glancing quickly in Terry’s direction, she gives a subtle nod. Akemi’s case file has landed on almost every detective in New York’s desk at one point or another, and she’d recognised that hard gaze anywhere.
“Well, well, well … don’t you look good enough to sit atop my Christmas tree.”
Acutely aware of their audience, and knowing that the red and white striped stockings covering her legs would definitely be restrictive if she needed to go full ninja on Santa’s ass, Amy quickly chooses to plaster on a bright and shiny grin. “So glad you’ve made it back from the North Pole, Santa. We’ve got lots of excited children just bursting to see you!”
“Yeah, whatever.” Akemi leans in, an unwelcome mixture of tobacco and sweat washing over Amy, and it’s all she can do to not recoil in disgust as he lowers his voice. “I’m only interested in one thing, lady, and once I got it I’m outta here. But don’t you worry, there’ll be plenty of room on my sleigh for you.”
“Ok. I don’t give a damn about any Christmas magic, Ames. If he tries to make you kiss him under that mistletoe, I swear to god I will punch Santa right in the face.”
“Cool it, Peralta.” Terry’s clenching jaw is almost audible in his response, and Amy takes a slow and calming breath, safe in the knowledge that her squad most definitely has her back.
“Right. Yep. Cool it. Cool cool cooling it.” Each member of the team watches from their position as Santa saunters over to his seat, throwing several finger guns to waiting mothers as he goes; and Jake lets out a snort of disgust. “So … has everyone gotten their Secret Santa present organised yet? Rosa, you need some shopping tips?”
“No. Secret Santa is bullshit.”
“It’s a fun holiday tradition that you are definitely participating in and if you picked my name I’d really love a voucher for that sneaker store on 28th.”
“I don’t have you, Peralta.”
“Yep. No problemo. Just saying. In case you do.”
To her right, Amy notices Terry’s unmissable frame break through the crowd. “Heads up, guys. Looks like Santa’s buddy has found his way into the queue.” With his wooly beanie and scores of shopping bags clutched in his hands, their sergeant blended in relatively easily as just another father doing some last minute panic shopping; but they all knew one flex of his oversized muscles would break that facade fairly easily.
A silence falls over the comms as they watch Santa breeze through child after child, giving them barely any attention as his target draws closer; and slowly both Jake and Rosa close the gap from the other sides.
Pulling out a poorly wrapped parcel and handing the gift to Akemi, the unshaven man at the front of the queue feigns surprise when Santa reaches into the sack next to his throne, handing the supposed stranger an oversized bag of ‘candy canes’.
“There’s the exchange. Boyle, can you confirm you got the footage?”
“With a beautiful slow zoom that really captures the thrum of festive anticipation hovering amongst the crowd, sarge.”
Cringing slightly, Jake shakes his head at Charles’ description as his eyes follow the bag of candy canes, their new recipient now walking at a steady pace towards the exit. “We’re going to lose this guy if we don’t move now.”
“Go, Peralta. Diaz, you run backup. Amy and I will take care of Santa.”
With a grin, Jake breaks into a fast walk, already focused in his pursuit. “Alright, taking down a bad Santa in a public environment. Now it feels like Christmas!”
“We’re going to wait until Akemi has left the village, Peralta. You know, try not to break a bunch of children’s hearts?”
“You do you, Terry!”
*
*
There are still remnants of festive glitter in Amy’s hair as she and Jake walk up the stairs of their apartment building several hours later, both of them slightly weary from the hours of paperwork and debriefing that took place after Santa’s Village.
“Boy, bet thats the last time you come to the precinct and pick me up on your night off, huh Ames?” The apology is obvious in Jake’s tone, and Amy glances over her shoulder to give him a reassuring smile. Even if it hadn’t been in her original plan, she still got to spend the night hanging with her husband (although in a slightly different capacity than originally planned), and she was choosing to count that as a win. (A small win, but a win all the same.)
“Yeah, maybe.”
“I’m really sorry you got pulled into all of that, babe. I just didn’t see your message in time, or I would have … hey, Ames?” The touch of his hand against her forearm is gentle, pulling her in with the quiet strength she knows her husband to possess, and Amy turns towards Jake without hesitation. His eyes search her face, immediately seeing through her concealed defeat, and he really is the only one for her. “Is everything alright?”
“Yeah, it’s fine. I just …” she feels a blush rush over her cheeks again, suddenly feeling ridiculous as she thinks of how to divulge her secret plan. The underwire from the damn bra digs into her skin again as she squirms, and if tonight has taught Amy anything, it’s why lingerie like this is only designed to stay on until your partner rips it off seconds after reveal.
“Babe?”
“It just feels like forever since we’ve had a night at home, just the two of us.” Jake’s brows knit, and Amy leans in to rest both hands against her husbands chest. “And I know that work has been crazy lately, and that it’ll eventually calm down again, I just … I’d sorta planned on tonight going differently once you were home.”
“Oh god, and instead you ended up in a glittery elf costume with a creep leering at you.” Left hand slapping against his face in shame, Jake shakes his head in obvious frustration.
“I mean, we can mainly blame my FOMOW for that, babe. It doesn’t matter, really. If I hadn’t been there, you might have gotten home even later so when you think about it, it’s way better we - mmfph -” the rest of Amy’s argument stops in it’s tracks as Jake pulls her in for a kiss, the gentle but insistent press of his lips against hers casting any other thoughts far to the side.
The familiar touch of his hands as they roam against the outline of her butt causes Amy to melt entirely in Jake’s arms, resting her arms against his steady shoulders as her fingers slide into his hair. This - these tiny moments where the world seemed to fade away and all she could feel was Jake - was what she’d been craving for weeks.
Jake sighs against her lips, letting her tongue slip into his mouth as he shuffles ever so closer to her, and maybe he’d been missing this just as much as she.
“So,” Jake whispers as he pulls away from the kiss, leaning in to brush his lips against Amy’s once more. “Time to get this night back in track.” Another kiss. “What kind of plans did you make for us, Santiago?”
“Lets just say … the lingerie I’ve got on under here is going to blow your mind, Peralta.”
“Going to blow your mind, title of our sex tape.”
Amy nods, biting her lower lip as she steps out of Jake’s embrace, gesturing towards their apartment. “But it’s also really uncomfortable. C’mon, let's get inside before it ends up in the dumpster.”
Jake’s footsteps echo behind Amy’s, hands landing on her hips as she digs for the keys. “I’m declaring it now, Ames. Tomorrow night we’re both leaving early and staying in for movie night at home. Phones off, popcorn, everything for the full movie experience. We can watch Die Hard and Love Actually and Nightmare before Christmas …”
Amy’s nose crinkles at the last movie, unlocking their front door and tugging her husband through as it swings open. “Didn’t we watch that last one for Halloween?”
“I don’t care what you say, The Nightmare Before Christmas works for Christmas and Halloween!”
“Jake …”
“Christmas is literally in the title, babe!”
Pulling him closer, Amy takes a leaf out of her husband’s handbook, silencing him with a definitely not PG rated kiss now that the risk of being discovered by a neighbour had slimmed to none.
Jake’s arms wrap around her middle in response, holding Amy close as her fingers begin to trace the edge of his buttons, and she lets out a sigh of satisfaction that finally her initial plan was coming to fruition.
Next time, though, she might add a sub-section into the binder about potential diversions, and how to avoid them (not join them) - FOMOW be damned. This stuff was way more fun.
