Hearing that Jake and Amy had begun dating again for what seemed like the forth time was irritating in a way you had never felt— your forehead vain on the verge of bursting had been pointed out by Hitchcock and Scully. It wasn’t.. fair, at least that’s what you thought.

Mostly because Jake was literally at your apartment last night, on top of you, all over you, doing wildly inappropriate things that definitely cannot be discussed in a police precinct.

It was a little funny when Amy said he tasted like birthday cake ice cream, though. Unbeknownst to her, it was the ice cream you had mouth-fed him the previous night. And that’s when you realized that ew, transferred half-melted ice cream in a heated makeout session, and also ew, does he not brush his teeth?

Whatever, she’ll just have to taste you when he’s kissing her. You were finally cornered in the evidence locker, though. Assumedly, whenever Amy wasn’t around

“Hey,” Jake huffed, running a hand through his small curls. “Listen, I-I know this looks horrible.” He confirmed, without a follow up. After a few moments of silence, he looked at you. “That’s it. I don’t, like, have an excuse or anything.”

He sighed, rubbing his temples. “I just.. I mean, we can, like, still… hangout, or whatever. We can still have nights like last night. Just, keep it under wraps, yeah?”