Brooklyn Nine-Nine One Shots And Imagines

Amy Santiago- Work (a)

"Let me guess, you're close to solving yet another case?" Amy didn't even seem to notice anybody talking to her, her sunken eyes scrolled across the screen as she ran through logs of evidence. The harsh blue light that cast itself over a wide mouthed Amy was the only thing showing any life in the kitchen of your apartment, that and the red digits across the microwave, 04:18.

"Amy..." The room slowly filled with a low hum and an almost blinding light as your finger pressed down on the old light switch. You cowered your eyes below a straightened hand but Amy didn't even react, her hands just continued to run across the keyboard of her laptop with great haste. "Come on, you need to be in bed. Your work won't go anywhere."

"It might." Her eyes never lifted from the screen as she spoke. "We are this close to sending this suspect down. There must be something in these crime scene photos to put him away. By tomorrow he might have fled the country."

"You remember what Captain Holt said about overworking yourself? About how it can have the opposite effects and how dangerous it is for you and society? Remember that in roughly... four hours you have to be at work. And I don't know about you but I don't want to be chasing after someone on four hours of sleep." Your arms wrapped gently over her sunken shoulders and reached over until you were able to slowly close the lid of the laptop that she was so stuck on. "You can continue tomorrow, I promise. But I'm phoning in the morning and telling Holt that you'll be an hour or two late to work because you need to catch up on sleep."

"I haven't been late for the best part of a year! I can't ruin that." She protested as you carried her almost soulless body away from the kitchen table and towards the bedroom.

"It'll be fine. I'll sort it out with the Captain in the morning and you can make up the hours over a few days, I'm sure there's a stock cupboard or some paperwork that you can sort out."

"There isn't... I've already don't it all." She seemed sad as you handed a set of freshly washed pyjamas you had picked out for her. "Please don't make me be late tomorrow."

"You're either late or you don't go in at all, make your choice." You tucked her carefully in between the sheets and wrapped your arm around her waist. "I'm sorry, I can't have you overworking yourself."

Instead of a reply the room was filled with Amy's light and fluttery snoring.

~*~

Written by Aaron.