𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐤𝐥𝐞 𝐬𝐩𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐬, 𝐝𝐢𝐚𝐳

vi. thursday

THURSDAYS WERE always slow for the nine-nine. It was this kind of slow that made the residents of the precinct go insane; after all, there were fewer perps to interrogate, write up, or sketch, so they found themselves doing the most to keep themselves occupied. Jamie wished she could just go home, but she knew she wasn't that lucky. After all, she was no detective, just a lowly sketch artist. Ha, lowly. Jamie Callister was anything but.

Of course, it was that air, that persona she put on, that got her in trouble. It was what landed her on a date with Rosa, pretending that they were madly in love. It was what had her swapping numbers with Rosa's friends, promises to see them soon on her lips that she knew would never be fulfilled. She knew Rosa would make up an excuse about how busy Jamie was doing whatever high maintenance job Rosa no doubt said she did.

A sigh escaped her lips as she poured herself yet another cup of coffee, her third of the morning. What could she say? She was exhausted. It had been a week since she and Rosa went to the wedding, and the two of them couldn't act normal for anything. She would wake up from a dream about Rosa kissing her so often that she was disturbed ̶  they barely knew each other, and for good reason. That was part of why Rosa asked her to go, wasn't it? The less you know about someone, the easier it is to forget about them.

Unfortunately, they had kissed. They had kissed, and it was seared in both of their minds. Rosa would get distracted staring at Jamie during briefings and vice versa, but they dodged each other otherwise. Jake raised this observation to Jamie in passing one day, and she just shrugged, giving a quick, "Rosa and I just don't know each other that well." It seemed to satisfy the curiosity that Jake harbored, and he went on his merry way.

Now, however, Jamie wasn't so lucky. Terry and Jake were talking to the captain about a case, and Charles and Amy were who-knows-where, so all that was left in the precinct were Jamie, Rosa, Hitchcock, and Scully. As she passed the room the other three were, she heard a conversation that made her pause, and that conversation would get her in trouble later.

"You couldn't sit all day if you tried," an indignant Hitchcock said, a smirk on his face.

"What? You don't think I could outlast you turds in a chair?" Rosa was annoyed, and Jamie could tell just from the way her knees bent slightly and her fists curled at her sides. Even from behind, the woman was intimidating.

What got Jamie in trouble wasn't the conversation itself, rather her willingness to listen. She made herself known when she took too loud of a sip, earning a, "Jamie, come join us!" from Scully.

"I... have things to do," she lied, stepping into the room. Rosa raised an eyebrow, silently communicating ̶  you can't lie for shit.

"C'mon, Jamie, join us," she encouraged, and Jamie sighed. She knew it would be awkward, but maybe it'd calm down the weirdness between them. Maybe, if they spent the day together, Jamie would stop thinking about that kiss. She didn't realize that Rosa was thinking the same thing, too.