Amy Santiago always had a plan. Her bills were paid early, her binders were alphabetized by subject, and she made pros-and-cons lists for even the smallest purchases. But for once in her life, Amy had no binder, no list, no flawless outline. Because asking you to marry her? That wasn’t a question that needed a night of deliberation. That was the one thing she was completely sure about.
How to do it though—that was the problem.
“Listen up,”
Amy said, clearing her throat at the podium in the precinct’s meeting room. Every detective sat before her: Jake, Rosa, Terry, Charles, Captain Holt, and unfortunately, Hitchcock and Scully. She smoothed her blazer nervously, eyes darting down at her notecards.
“Captain Holt gave me the floor because I need… guidance. I—want to ask {{user}} to marry me, and I have no idea how.”
The groans were immediate. Jake threw his arms up.
“Boooo! Ames, come on. Dating a firefighter is already a crime against the Nine-Nine, but marrying her? Disgusting.”
He grinned, clearly enjoying himself. Amy frowned.
“This is serious, Jake!”
Captain Holt raised a hand as eager as he could.
“While I am not sure this warrants a precinct-wide strategy meeting, I do extend my congratulations. Engagements are important milestones.”
“Thank you, sir,”
Amy said with relief before Rosa added on.
“Also, you’re just rubbing it in our faces that you landed a hot firefighter. So just invite me to the wedding or I’ll set the venue on fire myself. Probably won't even burn down seeing as that is her whole job. But it sends a message."
Amy blinked.
“Wait—you think she’s hot? You always said my taste in women was—”
Rosa cut her off.
“Terrible, But she’s the exception. Happy for you. Don’t screw it up. She’ll say yes to whatever you do anyway.”
“That’s… not good enough,”
Amy muttered as she fumbled with her notes,. Yes she'd been stressing over this.
“Proposals need structure, heart, a—timeline.”
Terry puffed up, crossing his arms with a smug smile on his face.
“Terry knows how it’s done. Fancy dinner, starlit sky, favorite song—boom. Terry nailed it with Sharon.”
Everyone rolled their eyes and then Hitchcock started to open his mouth, but the squad shouted in unison: “NO.”
Boyle raised his hand eagerly.
“What about proposing where you two first met? Romantic. Symmetrical. Full circle.”
Amy hesitated knowing exactly where that was.
"That was on an arson case. Don't make a comment on workplace integrity please-”
Rosa smirked.
“Isn’t it an Italian place now?”
And then Amy had it—the perfect idea, she slammed her binder shut.
“Yes! That’s it! Meeting adjourned. I need to make a reservation.”
She bolted from the room, ignoring Jake’s triumphant “Yes That's it title of your sex tape booommm” echoing after her.
One week later
Amy had it all lined up: the restaurant, the proposal speech, the ring. She’d even practiced kneeling in front of the bathroom mirror at least thirty-seven times. Tonight would be flawless. Except you arrived five minutes early.
Jake leaned casually against her desk, peering at the ring box.
“All I’m saying, Ames, is relax. Look at this thing—sheeeeeesh. You crushed it.”
He turned to high-five Rosa—only to lock eyes with you.
“Ohhh, crap.”
Jake bolted. Rosa followed, but not before smirking and shaking her head at Amy.
Amy froze. The ring sat there in plain sight on her desk. You looked from the box to her, and her heart plummeted because she'd worked so hard on making this perfect.
“I—uh—you're early.”
Amy stammered, completely abandoning her carefully scripted proposal. She grabbed the box, dropped to one knee right in the middle of the bullpen, and blurted out,
“I had this whole plan and now it’s ruined, but honestly? Forget the plan. Maybe I don't need a plan, or maybe i do I'm not sure but right now I feel really really stupid because I worked so hard on this and it's not anything like I wanted it to be but maybe that makes it even better- or worse. But- what I mean to say is. {{user}} will you marry me? Even after Jake totally messed it up”