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SCOREBOARD
PERALTA ZAPATA
62 62

"Hey, you guys see the dude I brought in today — the drug dealer? 81 years old. I think it's the oldest collar of my entire career," Jake smiled.

"I once arrested a 96-year-old for flashing. I was terrified he'd die in my backseat... Or flash me," Amy grimaced.

"My oldest collar was 78, but the PCP made her fight like she was 20," Rosa smirked.

"Mine was 91," Natasha smiled at the memory, "She wanted to cross 'get arrested' off her bucket list so she threw her drink at Captain Holt."

"What?" Amy gasped.

Jake and Rosa burst out laughing. "No way!"

"What about two 50-year-old twins? Does that count as a 100-year-old?" Scully asked as he walked past the group.

"No good."

"No."

"You talking oldest bags?" Charles smirked as he set his things down on his desk, "68."

"That's not that old," Amy shook her head.

"Yeah, but I was only 20."

"Were you even a cop then?" Jake asked him. 

Charles laughed. "No, man, it was before I got into the academy."

The four looked between each other before Rosa cracked a smile.

"Charles isn't talking about his oldest arrest."

Jake, Amy, and Natasha grimaced.

"Ew!"

Charles' eyes widened. "No, yes, I am. Yeah, oldest arrest, 68, like I said."

"God, you had sex with a 68-year-old when you were in your 20s?" Jake only made the whole thing worse for Charles.  

"You know how it is. When you have a chance to bed an older woman, you-" Charles tried to help his current situation. It did not work. 

"No, that is not an older woman. That's an old woman! That's someone's grandma!" Jake laughed. 

"She was, actually. That's how I met her — went to college with her grandson, Marvin. Don't knock it till you try it. She had a replacement hip with some serious torque. It was like having sex with a transformer."

"That is no one's fantasy," Jake walked away from him.

"Quit while you're ahead for once Charles," Natasha patted his shoulder.

▲ ▼ ▲ ▼ ▲ ▼

"Peralta. Where are we on the Lincoln place murder?" Terry asked at the morning briefing. 

Jake was leaning back in his chair with his arms crossed. He barely batted an eyelash. "Well, like I told Captain Holt earlier this week, we are at the one-yard line. It's a football reference."

Terry rolled his eyes. "Yes, Jake. I played linebacker at Syracuse."

"Really? In High School, I played center field in the musical damn Yankees," Charles smiled.

"Yeah, you don't want to brag about that," Jake advised.

"Peralta, you want to loop everyone in?" Captain Holt called. 

"Ehh," Jake shrugged. 

"That was not a request."

"Fine," With a huff, Jake walked to the front of the room, "Get ready for some stuff on a screen. Meet Fred Gorman Prominent citizen, lawyer, corpse. Now meet his wife, Ann Hoert. She did not take his last name, but I believe she did take his life."

"Nice," Charles smiled at his play on words.

"Thank you, Charles. Now, Hoert had means, motives, and opportunity. I just need to find the murder weapon. For some reason, the D.A. won't move forward with the arrest until we find the knife she used."

"Is that reason that they want to win the case?" Captain Holt asked him. 

Jake nodded. "Yes."

"Well, find it. The family's close to the mayor and I'm catching heat from the higher-ups. I'm gonna ask you again. Do you need any resources or personnel?"

"No, sir, I've got it."

Natasha scoffed. He'd been working this case for weeks now and he hadn't even come close to finding the murder weapon. And yet he still refused to let anyone help him. She'd tried getting in on the case but he'd done everything in his power to keep that from happening.

Jake went as far as working the case in the men's bathroom and paying Hitchcock to follow Natasha around. Although, the latter was quickly stopped and by a coffee mug no less. Captain Holt was not happy when Gina told him how Natasha threw her coffee mug at Hitchcock — He'd gotten her that mug. Hitchcock was too scared to even pass by her desk after that.

Jake had also underestimated Natasha's patience when it came to revenge. She'd waited outside the men's bathroom for two hours, her MacBook perched on her lap as she filled out paperwork. When he finally took a cautious step into the hallway, glancing left and right he'd missed what was right in front of him — Natasha and a bucket of ice. He was shivering for the rest of the day. 

Captain Holt did not look convinced but he nodded nevertheless. "Okay. Dismissed!"

Everyone flitted out of the briefing room and made their way to their desks. Well, almost everyone. Natasha, Rosa, and Amy followed Jake to his desk.

"Okay, how can we help? What do you need?" Amy asked immediately.

Jake's eyes did not move from the papers he was looking at. "I need nothing. I'm about to solve this case, meet the mayor, and sell my life rights to Channing Tatum so he can play my less attractive brother in the ensuing film."

Rosa rolled her eyes. "Come on, Peralta, Holt said to use the whole team. We all want this solved."

"I appreciate the offer, but I work best alone. Except when it comes to sex. Actually, sometimes including sex," Jake shrugged.

"That is so sad," Natasha frowned at him.

"Jealous?" Jake wiggled his eyebrows at her.

"About how you're going to die alone? Extremely," Natasha smiled sarcastically.

"Hey!! I am not going to die alone."

"You're going to be buried with your cats?" She asked.

"No!" Jake scoffed, "I figure after I win the bet and we go out on our date, you're going to fall hopelessly in love with me and force me to marry you."

"Did you get high in the evidence room? And you are not winning the bet."

"I am so."

"You didn't deny getting high in the evidence room," Natasha smirked.

Jake paused. "Well, because, I- You know I didn't!"

"That sounds like someone who's trying to hide that they got high in the evidence room in a police precinct," Natasha continued to push his buttons.

"You and I both know that I-"

"Will you just let us help?" Amy cut their banter off with a huff.

"Okay, fine. I will let one of you help me — Charles."

"Yeah!" Charles cheered. 

"And I am choosing Charles because he's the least likely to steal my thunder," Jake smirked.

"I would never steal his thunder," Charles shook his head frantically, "I-I'd be afraid to borrow it."

"Please don't throw ice at me again," Jake pleaded when he saw Natasha glare at him.

"Don't worry, I won't" She smiled.

"It's going to be worse, isn't it?"

"So much worse."

▲ ▼ ▲ ▼ ▲ ▼

Natasha was sitting at her desk, twirling her pen around.

"Man she sits up straight," Terry commented before he went back to his paperwork, "Terry's never seen such good posture."

She really did have good posture. And working a case with Captain Holt years ago was the reason why. He'd remind her to sit up straight almost every half hour; it got so annoying that she started doing it subconsciously just to make him stop. One time, he even commented on her posture when she sat down to interrogate a perp.

"You're a detective interrogating a perp, not an Italian mobster," He'd huffed.

Terry was signing off on Natasha's latest arrest report when Scully walked over to his desk.

"Sarge you gotta help me," Scully panted as he hunched over Terry's desk.

"Get a better diet man! Your desk is the closest one to mine," Terry grimaced as he watched Scully.

"Not about my health," Scully scoffed, "I think Tasha's going to throw something at me."

"I actually believe that," Terry shrugged, "What did you do now?"

"Nothing! But she's been glaring at me for the last ten minutes. See, now she's doing it to Hitchcock," Scully pointed at the woman in question.

Natasha had her eyes trained on Hitchcock as she twirled her pen around in her hands. She and Rosa had decided to ignore Jake's refusal for help and helped themselves to the files he left carelessly strewn about his desk.

They were currently trying to think of possible murder weapons, they'd already agreed that the puncture wounds on the body couldn't have been from a knife.

Terry couldn't lie, Natasha's glare was pretty intense — and scary.

"Tasha," He called out.

Natasha's head jolted away from Hitchcock abruptly and she looked around the room slowly. She walked over to Terry's desk when she saw him wave her over.

Scully rushed over to his desk when she neared. He chugged a bottle of water when he sat down, that walk really winded him.

"What's up with all the glaring?" Terry asked when she raised an eyebrow at him.

"What? What glaring?"

"Just now, you were glaring at Scully and Hitchcock," Terry explained.

"No I wasn't," Natasha scoffed, "I glare at them a lot but I was too busy thinking about Lincoln Place murder to be disgusted by what Hitchcock and Scully will shove into their mouths."

"Oh, you're one of those scary thinkers," Terry commented.

"Excuse me?" Natasha's eyebrows furrowed.

"Nothing," Terry cleared his throat, "Uh, just get back to work. We really need to solve this case."

Natasha shrugged and made her way back to her desk.

"You got anything?" Rosa asked her.

"Nada," Natasha huffed as she picked up her pen.

This time her gaze fell onto Amy as she twirled her pen.

Amy gave her an awkward smile when she noticed Natasha glaring at her but quickly moved her gaze down to her desk when Natasha's expression remained stoic.

Natasha's head snapped towards Rosa. "Didn't you have a case with puncture wounds like these? The one we worked together."

Rosa paused for a minute before a smile spread across her face. The two high fived when Rosa pulled up the arrest records on her computer. The puncture wounds were a match.

"Call Jake," Natasha told her as she continued to look through the files.

"Yo, Tasha and I looked at the photos of your victim on your desk. The puncture wounds are similar to a case I had a while back. They aren't from a knife. I think it's something spiral, like a corkscrew," Rosa explained.

The elevator dinged grabbing their attention.

"Uh oh," Rosa sighed, "You better get back here. Now."

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Jake walked into the precinct, his gaze immediately going to Rosa and Natasha. He held his hands up to them, his eyebrows furrowed.

Rosa pointed to the man who had taken over Jake's desk. He was currently shining his shoes — on Jake's paperwork.

"Oh! Hello, Peralta," He smirked.

"No, no, no!" Jake groaned. 

"I don't know why you're so upset, man. I'm the one who had to come to this backwater stink hole."

Natasha glared at him in disgust as Jake and Charles raced towards the Captain's office. Rosa had told her all about 'The Vulture' after she'd almost put him in a chokehold. Terry had to pick her up and hold her in the air until she'd calmed down. No one really blamed Natasha though, they'd all been dreaming of doing the same thing for years now. Plus, he'd also thrown countless sexist pick up lines her way the whole time he sat at Jake's desk.

"Yo, how much you bench, seriously?" The Vulture turned to Terry.

Terry rolled his eyes and turned back to his paperwork.

When he realized he wasn't going to get an answer he turned his attention elsewhere.

"Hey, sweetheart! Get me a bottle of water, will ya?" The Vulture called out to Natasha.

She glared at him as she stood up from her chair. "Oh, I'll get you a water bottle and I'll shove it up your-"

"Okay! You cannot stay here," Terry cut her off as he rushed towards her before she could get any closer to The Vulture.

Natasha turned her head to glare at the man as Terry carried her into Captain Holt's office, setting her down on the couch as the three men in the room watched them.

"She's going to attack The Vulture if she stays out there any longer," Terry explained.

"You're talking like he wouldn't deserve it!" Natasha huffed.

"I'm not saying he doesn't, I'm saying you don't deserve jail time for a jerk like him," Terry told her before making his way back into the bullpen.

"Turn over your files to Detective Pembroke," Captain Holt turned to Jake.

"Sir, call him The Vulture. Giving him a name makes him human," Charles frowned.

Captain Holt ignored him. "Turn over the files."

Jake huffed. "Fine. But in protest, I'm walking over there extremely slowly."

"Thank you."

Jake and Charles walked towards the door in slow motion and exaggerated movements. Natasha

"God! This is so boring!" Jake groaned.

Captain Holt gave him a blank look. "For both of us."

"I think it's a form of peaceful protest and I stand by it," Natasha commented.

Everyone's heads snapped towards her in shock.

"Fine, I thought it was dumber than dumb!" She admitted, "But y'know what's dumber? The Vulture. He's the reason hell exists."

Captain Holt opened his mouth before closing it. He did not know how to respond to such a heavy comment.

"Peralta, make sure Detective Pembrooke is able to leave the precinct without sustaining any Natasha related injuries," Captain Holt ordered as he watched Natasha glare at The vulture through the window.

The three made their way out of Captain Holt's office begrudgingly.

"You know, before I solve this case, I'd like to thank you for doing all the super-easy work, you know, the real Nancy Drew-level stuff," The Vulture smirked as Jake handed him the files.

"Oh, yeah? Did Nancy Drew solve a lot of murders?" Jake glared at him.

"Yeah, she did," Charles smiled, "Murder on Ice, Recipe for Murder. Nancy was a wonderful Detective. I wanted to be her when I grew up."

"Thanks, Charles. That's helpful," Jake scoffed.

"Hey! Should we take odds on how fast I'll solve this case?" The Vulture suggested.

"Nope."

"I mean, what was it with Diaz's last 'impossible' extortion case? What was it, six hours?" He laughed. 

Rosa glared at him. "That's because it was 98% solved."

"The last 2% is the hardest to get. That's why they leave it in the milk."

"What?" Jake's eyebrows furrowed as he looked at him.

"I think he's physically incapable of thinking before he speaks. Or at all," Natasha explained.

"You are so hot," The Vulture looked her up and down.

Jake grabbed her arm before she could throw a coffee mug at the man. If he was being honest, he wasn't trying too hard to keep her from doing so. She just needed to tug her arm and she'd be free to throw whatever she wanted at The Vulture.

"Thanks, champ. Good effort. I got it from here. And, hey, you feel free to call me anytime you need me to come down here and help powder that big white ass of yours," The Vulture slapped Jake's ass before making his way to the elevator.

"Well, that's the worst thing that's ever happened to me," Jake shuddered.

"He's the worst," Amy frowned.

"Ow!" Jake rubbed his shoulder where Natasha punched him, "What was that for Tasha?!"

"You wouldn't let me hurt The Vulture so I'm going to hurt you instead," Natasha huffed.

▲ ▼ ▲ ▼ ▲ ▼

"I hate The Vulture so much!" Jake huffed before taking a swig of his beer.

The precinct —minus Captain Holt, Terry, and Gina— had decided to go to Shaw's Bar to cool off after The Vulture's surprise visit.

"Me too. But he's kind of hot," Rosa shrugged.

Everyone's heads snapped towards her, giving her weird looks.

"What?" She scoffed, "You can hate people and still think they're hot. Case in point, Manuel Noriega,"

Jake nodded. "You know what? I'm with you on this. Tonya Harding."

"Yeah, she's thick," Rosa smiled.

"Right?" Jake smirked.

Amy rolled her eyes. "Always classy, Jake."

"Sorry you got vultured. Happens to the best of us," Rosa said.

"God, I just- I want to get back at him so bad! I wish I could throw his cell phone in the toilet or slash his tires, I don't know."

"Or slash his gorgeous throat," Rosa suggested.

"I cannot figure you out," Charles sighed.

"Okay, I'm buying everyone drinks as long as we're here thinking of a revenge plan. Best idea gets 50 bucks. Throw 'em on out," Jake called out.

Everyone smiled at the offer. They all wanted to get revenge against The Vulture and making $50 for it too? That was too good to be true.

"What if you called him from a hospital and said his whole family is dead? Like, they died of cancer," Charles suggested.

"Charles, that is so dark," Jake paused, "I'm putting it down."

"You guys hold him down and I shove a water bottle down his throat," Natasha smiled as her eyes twinkled.

"Okay, that's a felony," Jake explained slowly, "What else we got?"

The group kept throwing out different ideas ranging from straight-up cartoonish —Hitchcock and Scully— to illegal and concerningly morbid and detailed —Natasha.

"What if we wrap his motorcycle in plastic wrap and melt it with a hairdryer? Little trick I learned in gift basket making class," Charles smiled.

"All right. Here's what we're up to. Steal his kidney, burn down his house, replace his aloe tissues with regular tissues. Thank you, Charles," Jake listed.

"You're welcome."

"Leave a dead cat in his cedar closet. He would have to own a cedar closet."

"He seems like he would," Rosa smiled.

"Sneak into his apartment and burn popcorn in the microwave. Thank you, Charles. Uh, Scully asked for mashed potatoes, so I wrote that down. And I'm not even going to read Tasha's ideas because she is way too close to this. Well, I hate to say it, but I think, by default, Charles' motorcycle idea is the winner."

"Yeah! Winning by default," Charles cheered.

"You don't win much, do you?" Natasha patted his shoulder.

"Basically never," Charles nodded.

"Let's get into it. Anybody know where The Vulture lives?" Jake called out. 

"On third, right near here," Rosa and Natasha said in unison.

"Okay, she knows that for disturbingly illegal reasons. How do you know that?" Jake asked Rosa.

"I don't think any of us want to know," Natasha advised before Rosa could say anything.

Jake nodded his head. "Chug 'em, boys. We're rolling!"

The group made their way to The Vulture's apartment. Well, they stumbled towards it.

"You should not be walking right now," Natasha laughed as she grabbed onto Jake when he bumped into her.

"I don't think I should be doing any of what we're doing right now," Jake smiled at her as she helped keep him upright.

"Oh, so you do have a conscious and it's functional," Natasha pretended to be surprised.

"And you're capable of laughing with me instead of at me," Jake teased.

"Hey, I laugh with you a lot," Natasha defended herself.

"Every time I've seen you laugh is either because I did something stupid or you made a joke about something stupid that I did."

"Not true, I always laugh with you when Hitchcock and Scully fall off their chairs when we throw candy around their desks and they think it's raining food," Natasha reminded him.

"That was an awesome idea by the way," Jake complimented her.

"Hurry up guys! We found his motorcycle," Amy called them over.

The two smiled at each other as they rushed towards the rest of the group.

"Nope! Bad idea, bad idea," Jake groaned as his stomach turned.

"Such a bad idea," Natasha frowned, clutching her head.

The two made their way to The Vulture's motorcycle as slowly as they could. And, soon enough, the motorcycle was completely covered in plastic wrap.

"Yes! Take that, Vulture!" They cheered as they looked down at their work proudly.

"All right, give me your hairdryer," Jake held his hand out expectantly as he turned to the girls.

"What? What are you talking about?" Rosa furrowed her eyebrows. 

"Don't you carry one in your purse?" Jake asked them.

"Have you ever met a human woman?" Amy scoffed.

"Where would we even keep it?" Natasha rolled her eyes, "How are you a detective?"

"Aw, no c'mon! We were just starting to move away from making fun of me all the time," Jake frowned.

"Yup and then you ruined it," Natasha smiled. 

"There's a drugstore four blocks away. I'm on it," Scully started running down the block.

"Oh, no. Scully traveling four blocks? That could take weeks," Jake groaned.

They all turned to see Scully not so much as three steps away from them with his hands on his knees, panting.

"We're never seeing that hairdryer or him again," Natasha frowned.

She was sure Scully would get lost if he ever did make his way to the drug store.

Jake pulled out his phone and dialed Gina on speakerphone.

"Gina's authentic stolen police badges. How can I help?" She greeted.

"Hey, it's Peralta."

"Oh, hey, Jake."

"Hey, do you carry a hairdryer in your purse?" Jake asked her.

"Of course. I'm not an animal," She scoffed.

"Great," Jake gave Amy, Rosa, and Natasha a pointed look.

"Great. I need you to bring it to The Vulture's apartment."

"There's someone named 'The Vulture'? Tell Rosa. She'd be into that."

Rosa smirked and nodded her head.

Before Gina could say anything they heard shuffling on the line. "Peralta, why are you asking Gina about Detective Pembroke?"

Their eyes widened when they heard the Captain's voice.

"Oh, Captain, hello," Jake stuttered, "Uh, we are preparing him a gift basket of sorts."

"Look, I understand that you're upset. But if you want to keep this from happening again, I suggest that you pull your team together and solve these cases before major crimes can step in. Am I clear?" Captain Holt's stern voice was enough to kind of sober up the detectives. 

"Yes, sir. That is definitely clear. Thank you, sir," Jake smiled as he shut the phone.

"You should be frowning," Amy frowned, "Why is Jake smi- Why are you smiling?"

"Because the Captain just gave us the perfect revenge plan. We team up and solve this case right now!" Jake grinned. 

"That is not what he meant," Amy shook her head.

"Think about it, Amy. We go back to the scene of the crime, find the murder weapon, and out-vulture The Vulture! No one gets in trouble if we crack the case," Jake explained.

Amy shrugged. "Okay, screw it. I'm in."

"Yeah!" Natasha held her hand out for a high five.

"Oh, you've never given me one of these before," Amy smiled as she looked at Natasha's outstretched hand.

"And it's going to be the last time I ever do if you keep making this weird," Natasha sang.

Amy was quick to give her a high five before Natasha changed her mind.

"We're angry. We're getting revenge. We're a little bit tipsy. We should not be driving. We're taking the bus," Jake yelled.

"I love the bus!" Charles smiled. 

The team managed to safely stumble their way to a bus stop and clambered in.

"So the waitress heard the couple arguing at dinner. Apparently he was having an affair, and it was not the first time," Jake explained to Natasha, "Two years ago, she caught him with a dog walker who was walking his dog if you know what I mean."

"I do," She nodded.

"Right?" Jake smirked. 

"Yeah, it's pretty obvious."

"Sex times."

"I said I got it, what part of that do you not understand?" Natasha rolled her eyes.

"Anyways, we know it's the wife," Jake finished off.

Natasha snickered. "I had to sit outside of the men's bathroom for two hours because you refused to let me glance at the case files and now you're taking us to the crime scene with you."

Jake sighed. "All right, it is possible that I should've brought you guys in sooner. But I just get so excited, wrapped up in wanting to solve stuff, you know?"

"You want to be the best, we all do. But you don't have to be such a hardass about it."

Natasha's eyebrows furrowed when she heard Jake laugh. "What?"

"I just can't believe you would call me a hard ass," He pretended to be hurt.

She rolled her eyes. "Shut up."

"That's so harsh," Jake teased her.

"Look at that Hard Ass Jake's shift is over and Dumbass Jake is back," Natasha laughed.

"Y'know you talk a lot about my ass," Jake smirked, "It's almost as creepy as The Vulture's obsession with it."

Natasha glared at him before pushing him off his seat and onto the floor.

"Ow! Okay, I so did not deserve that," Jake huffed as he pulled himself back onto his seat.

"Yeah, you did. You're the reason I had to meet The Vulture and get catcalled at my own desk," Natasha crossed her arms. Just thinking about her day at the office today made her furious.

Jake frowned. "He did that?"

"Yeah, right before he told me he wanted to screw me and then get me to cook him breakfast," Natasha gritted out. Her hands were rolled into tight fists at the thought of the sleazy pick-up lines she'd been forced to hear. He deserved way more than a chair being thrown at him and if it wasn't for Terry forcing her away from the situation she was sure she'd be sitting in a cell right about now.

"I really want to do more than just solve this case now," Jake's jaw clenched before he sighed, "I'm really sorry he said any of that crap to you."

Natasha gave him a small smile. "Ask for help next time so I don't end up becoming a convict because The Vulture got called in again."

"I will, I promise," Jake smiled.

"I can't wait to see the look on his face when we solve this," Natasha grinned.

▲ ▼ ▲ ▼ ▲ ▼

All right, here's how it went down. 9:45, a man screams. 90 seconds later, wife goes down to the doorman, says a guy murdered her husband and then ran off. We know she's lying. We've just got to find the corkscrew to make our case airtight," Jake explained as they walked into the apartment, "I say we role-play, see if something sparks."

Everyone nodded before Charles walked over to Jake.

"Darling, thank you for a lovely dinner. Perhaps we should have one more drink before bed," Jake said in a deep voice.

"Don't you 'darling' me, you philanderer," Charles glared at him.

Natasha stifled a laugh when she heard the high-pitched voice Charles was doing to imitate the wife.

Jake held up his hand. "No, you're the husband. The husband had the affair."

"I'm always the victim. I don't want to be the victim," Charles frowned.

Jake ignored him. "Okay, Charles is the door."

"No. I'll be the victim. Don't make me a door again," Charles begged him.

"Great. Okay, so the wife goes into the drawer. Gets the corkscrew. Stab, stab, stab. What did she do with the corkscrew?" Jake turned to the rest of the 99.

"She dumps it in the hallway trash chute on the way to the doorman," Rosa suggested.

"No, we checked the trash, like, ten times. We would've seen a bloody corkscrew," Jake sighed.

"All right, Hitchcock, you're up."

Jake stood to the side as Hitchcock exaggeratedly pretended to stab Charles.

"The body. The corkscrew's still in the body," Hitchcock turned to them with a smirk.

"No, you're terrible at this. Go sit down," Jake huffed.

"How are you a detective? How do you still have a job?" Natasha questioned him as he shuffled over to the couch.

"Beats me," He shrugged.

"You're up, Diaz," Jake called.

"Stab! Then I... Toss the corkscrew out the window, and it lands on a passing car," Rosa explained.

"Security cam showed no one driving by at that time and nothing on the street," Jake shook his head.

"Okay, I want in. But I only want to stab you," Amy pointed to Jake.

"Oh, I want to stab Jake too!" Natasha eagerly held her hand up.

"Okay, that was way too fast to be anything but extremely scary," Jake told her before turning to face Amy.

"Okay, uh, sweetheart-"

Amy cut him off. "Time to die."

"That seems a little harsh," Jake scoffed as Amy began to 'stab' him, "Okay, and what do you do with the corkscrew?"

"I..." Amy trailed off. She paused when she turned around and came face to face with the refrigerator.

Jake sighed. "Okay, Tasha, you're up. Tasha? Hey, you're doing that scary thing where you glare while you think; what you got?"

Natasha's concentration broke. "What? I do not glare when I-"

She trailed off when she noticed everyone nodded in agreement.

"It's actually really intimidating," Rosa admitted, "You barely blink."

"Whatever," Natasha scoffed.

Amy finally looked away from the fridge. "What if it was a magnetic corkscrew? If the corkscrew was on a magnet-"

Jake cut her off. "It's stuck halfway down the inside of the trash chute. I figured it out first!"

Everyone, well except for Hitchcock, rushed after Jake to the trash chute.

Amy pulled out a flashlight from her bag and handed it to Natasha as Jake opened the chute.

"You have a ten-pound flashlight in your purse, but not a hairdryer?" Jake scoffed as he and Natasha squinted down the chute. 

"I can't see far enough down," Natasha huffed.

"Someone's gonna have to go down there," Jake told them, "Someone with narrow shoulders."

Everyone turned their gaze to Charles.

"No! I have broad shoulders. I have narrow hips, but broad shoulders," Charles defended himself.

Everyone looked him up and down before giving him blank looks.

"God!" He huffed before walking to the chute as Natasha and Jake helped him in. 

"See anything?" Jake asked. 

"A little lower," He called.

Jake and Natasha slowly lowered him down further.

"Freeze! Hands in the air!"

The four turned and immediately raised their hands when they saw two police officers holding up their guns. In doing so, Jake and Natasha had dropped Charles down into the trash chute.

"We're cops," Jake groaned as he held out his badge for them to see.

"Broad shoulders! Stuck! Told you Broad shoulders," Charles complained.

▲ ▼ ▲ ▼ ▲ ▼

"What kind of precinct are you running here?!" The team could hear The Vulture's yelling through the closed door of Captain Holt's office.

They stood around Jake's desk trying to get a better look at what was happening in the Captain's office through the blinds.

Natasha flinched when she heard it. Captain Holt worked hard for a spotless record and what they'd done had nothing to do with him but here he was getting yelled at for their mistakes. As if she didn't feel bad enough when he'd disappointedly shaken his head at her when she tried to apologize to him.  

"What now?" Amy sighed, "Holt is gonna kill you."

"I don't think he will," Jake smiled, "Because...

"Voila!" Charles pulled out a plastic bag from his coat pocket.

Natasha, Amy, and Rosa smiled when they saw the corkscrew inside the bag.

"You actually found the corkscrew in the trash chute?" Amy asked them.

"Stuck to the side, just like you said," Jake nodded.

"Oh, my God, you guys, we out-vultured The Vulture!" Amy grinned as she imitated a bird cawing.

Everyone gave her weird looks. 

"What the hell was that?" Rosa grimaced. 

"What?" She scoffed, "It's a vulture."

"Don't ever do that again," Natasha told her.

"Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm gonna take this corkscrew over to the D.A. so we get the collar, not major crimes," Jake smirked.

Before he could take on step away from them Terry was yelling across the bullpen.

"Peralta! Now."

"Okay," Jake shuffled over to him.

▲ ▼ ▲ ▼ ▲ ▼

"Detective Pembroke," Jake called monotonously as he and Terry walked back into the bullpen. 

"Now what?" He sighed. 

"I'd like to cordially invite you to calm down, especially considering that this case has already been solved," Jake held up the corkscrew, "By you! Looks like you found the murder weapon. It's a good thing you realized it was magnetically stuck to the inside of the trash chute. Congratulations."

Captain Holt smiled. "Cracked the case all by yourself. We done here?"

"Yeah. Yeah, we're done here. Hey, keep up the bad work, champ," The Vulture smirked.

"Here it comes," Jake grimaced as The Vulture slapped his ass, "Why does he keep touching my butt?"

"Stay foxy," The Vulture winked at Natasha.

"Choke on air and die," Natasha glared at him.

"Well, case closed. Good work, everyone. Let's, uh, call it a night without any further discussion," Jake clapped his hands together.

"No!" Captain Holt walked up behind him, "All of you broke into a crime scene under the influence of alcohol, overstepped your jurisdiction, and disobeyed my direct orders. Everyone involved tonight is gonna get written up."

"Okay, fine. Here's everyone who was there. Jake Peralta, J. Peralta, Dr. Jacob Peralta, who has a Ph.D. in slow-jam studies from Funktown State University, also involved was the right honorable J-"

"Okay, enough," Captain Holt cut him off.

"My point is it was a Peralta special, sir. No one else was there."

"Well, Detective, I'm happy to see you're learning how to be part of a team," Captain Holt smiled, "Everybody go home. Sleep it off."

The team smiled at Jake before making their way to their desks to get their things.

"Detective Zapata," Captain Holt called before she could finish ordering her uber.

"Captain," She walked over to him, looking anywhere but at him.

"I will drive you home tonight, we can pick up your car tomorrow."

Natasha's head snapped up as a smile crept onto her face. "Thank you, Captain."

"While I'm not happy with the actions you and your fellow detectives have exhibited tonight, I am happy that you're becoming more and more comfortable with this team," He smiled at her.

Natasha turned to look at her new team.

"Yeah, me too."