Jake Peralta- Poking (a)

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"I'm so bored." Jake leant deeply back on his chair and stared up at the damp, mold-covered ceiling. "How long do we have to stay here for? I want to go home."

"The deal should be happening today, as soon as the handover happens, we just need to get a few pictures of anybody that comes or goes and then we can go back to the office."

"Can I at least get a go with the camera?" He stood from the chair and paced back and forth in the tiny Brooklyn apartment, desperately searching for something to keep his short attention span busy. "Can I? Can I?"

"Last time you were in charge with the camera, you missed what we were trying to shoot. This is big Jake; we can't mess it up. Why don't you eat some pizza or something?" He looked over at the half-eaten pizza that sat on the naked bed and groaned deeply.

"I don't want the pizza, I want to go back to the office so that I can annoy Holt."

"Well you're annoying me is that not good enough?" A sudden push on your arm knocked your finger onto the sensitive trigger and a photo was taken of absolutely nothing, you removed your eye from the viewfinder to see a very smiley Jake with his finger pressed into your arm. "What was that I said about being annoying? Sit down and do your job, you're supposed to be spotting for me."

"Okay, okay, I'm sorry." He pulled his chair next to yours and stared along with you out of the window to the apartment block adjacent. "That woman looks kind of suspicious, just in front of the entrance doors, white cap." You shot your camera down to try and find the possible suspect.

"That's not a cap, it's a bobble hat and I hardly think an eighty year old pensioner is the head of one of the biggest drug rings in New York."

"Don't be ageist!" Jake protested jokingly. "If an old woman wants to be a drug lord, she can be, nothing's stopping her."

You brought your eye down to the camera again and as before Jake poked you harshly.

"Stop... poking... me." Jakes laughter halted at your seriousness and his head slowly turned to look out the window.

"Terry said the suspect was male, aged fifty to sixty... STOP IT!" He pushed you again. "Fifty to sixty and driving a mustang."

"Jake I swear-" You looked up again at another poke, Jake wasn't laughing this time as stood behind him was a male, aged fifty to sixty with a silver pistol pressed against Jake's head. "Jesus Jake, did you get the addresses mixed up? Were we meant to be on that side of the street?" He nodded slowly and rose his hands in the air, with you following.

~*~

Written by Aaron.

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