𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐤𝐥𝐞 𝐬𝐩𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐬, 𝐝𝐢𝐚𝐳

ii. the situation

JAMIE DIDN'T mean to walk in on the conversation. It was harmless, honestly. She was just going to get coffee, still half asleep from the restlessness of her night. It wasn't often that she got more than two hours of sleep, which couldn't have been good for her health, but she didn't really seem to mind. She would be wide awake in an hour, tops. But even a half asleep mind couldn't hide the conversation she'd heard.

"Captain, I'm seriously worried about Amy," she heard Terry say, and as she peered around the corner, she was glad to have accurately placed the voice. In front of him, but just slightly out of her view, was Captain Holt.

"What do you mean? Santiago is fine. She does her work well, and-"

"Captain." Terry's voice was enough to silence his superior, which Jamie got the impression didn't happen often. She didn't know enough to be sure; she had only been here for a week, so any knowledge of her coworkers was very limited. Except, of course, for Boyle, who was an open book.

"Amy isn't sleeping, and you heard her in the meeting yesterday- Seamus Murphy approached her. I think she's getting desperate."

"We're all getting desperate, Sergeant. We'll continue with the case as planned. Detective Santiago will be okay, and Peralta and Diaz will be back in no time."

Jamie didn't hear Terry's next words because she moved into the room purposefully, walking toward the coffee maker. The two men fell silent at her entrance despite her being in the meeting the previous day. Sure, she didn't know who Seamus Murphy was entirely, other than what they had told her and what she had gathered from Google, but she knew this situation was bad. Bad enough that a civilian couldn't know about it.

"Don't mind me, boys. Just getting coffee. Carry on." She waved a hand at then haphazardly, humming to herself in mock ignorance. Something was going on in Brooklyn's ninety-ninth precinct, and Jamie wanted to know what it was. Maybe if she listened close enough, if she faked enough innocence in her motives, she would figure out why Seamus Murphy helping them get their friends out of prison was so bad. Wasn't help from a criminal help nonetheless?

"Jamie, will you help me move the whiteboard into the briefing room when you get your coffee?" Terry asked, and the woman nodded, closing her coffee cup. She went to set her stuff in the briefing room before returning to help Terry. The man smiled at her, and she could tell he was trying to think of something to say.

"So how are you liking the precinct?"

"It's alright. I don't enjoy the amount of times I've accidentally stepped into Sex Crimes, but it's not as miserable as I thought it would be." Her words earned a chuckle, and she raised an eyebrow.

"Glad to know the nine-nine isn't 'as miserable'. It's a thrill."

Jamie laughed, shaking her head. She was quick to move to her seat once they were in the briefing room, and Terry stood in front per usual, watching her with an expression she couldn't quite read.

"Can I help you?" She asked, and he shook his head.

"Terry doesn't get you, Jamie Callister. You're one weird kid."

"Gee, thanks." She rolled her eyes, leaning back in her seat and propping her feet up on the table. "I'm not meant to be understood."

"Damn, you sound like Rosa. She'd like you." His voice was measured, and it was enough to make Jamie's head tilt. She didn't care about Terry. She didn't know enough about him to. But she was interested in getting gossip that she could use as blackmail in the off chance she was here for longer than a few months.

"You guys really care about her, huh?" Her voice was as sincere as she could muster, but she honestly didn't care. Rosa Diaz meant nothing to Jamie Callister. Jamie didn't keep friends. Her only meaningful relationship was with her brother, and she didn't really get a choice in that one. Trust me, she'd tried. Cameron just kept coming back. It was just a family thing, she guessed.

"Yeah, we really do. She cares about us too, in her own way. She'd take a bullet for any one of us, even Boyle."

"Oh." Jamie nodded, but her heart wasn't in it. They cared about each other. They were a family in this precinct. Oh well. Jamie didn't need them. She didn't need a family. This wasn't permanent, anyway. She was going to be gone soon. Maybe she'd work at an architecture firm. Maybe she'd shadow a politician. There were plenty of things to do in New York. She could move to New York City if she really wanted to. She was about to move apartments anyway; why not to one in a different city? Sure, Brooklyn was cheaper, but who cared? She could do whatever she wanted.

"Callister, you good?" Terry raised his eyebrows at her, and she shrugged before verbally responding to him.

"Yeah, I'm fine. Why wouldn't I be?" Jamie flashed him a smile, one she knew was convincing because she felt like it was convincing. If Jamie wanted something to work, it would. She was confident in that. Maybe others would call that arrogant, but Jamie called that smart. Intuitive. She didn't have to fake it because it came naturally to her. And if anyone wanted to call her on it, she'd prove it to them any time of day.

"Well, the briefing will start any minute now. Pay attention, please." Terry gave her a pointed look, one she rolled her eyes at, pulling out her sketchbook. As the room filled and Terry began to speak, Jamie began sketching. What? It was good practice. It meant she could hone her skills. Besides, it was easier to do than actually listen. If she didn't hear her name, it wasn't important, after all.

After about ten minutes of her mindlessly sketching Terry and Holt, Amy, always the picture of perfection, leaned over.

"You're really good," she murmured, and Jamie raised an eyebrow.

"Gee, thanks. Not like I do it for a living or anything."

Amy was taken aback by the sharpness of Jamie's words, and she settled back into her seat with a soft glare toward the other woman. Holt noticed the interaction and made a note to address it in the off chance the tense situation strengthened. He doubted it, but it was something to notice nonetheless.

As the meeting finished, they cleared out of the room. Jamie, unclear on her job for the day, made her way to Holt's office to enquire. What she expected was an easy breezy conversation. What she got was much much worse.

"Yes, Seamus Murphy? Give me the information, and I'll owe you your favor."

From the outside of the room, Jamie paused- that didn't sound good, not at all.