swirlsofpurple

Authors note: These are a couple of scenes I've written as part of a Brooklyn 99 fanfic I'm writing. I've incorporate both the prompts 'Intaglio' and 'Happy'.
 

Amy stares at the blank walls of the nursery. Jake has been both steadfastly following her instructions and also brimming with his own ideas and the rest of the baby preparations are done. This is the one thing she wanted to do herself, but between work and studying and general pregnancy related exhaustion she hasn’t been able to.

Intaglio art-work has been a hobby of hers ever since Amy learned about it during her art history degree. The intricacy and detail-work needed made it very appealing. It’s been years since she made any art, things being as busy as they are. But she’s determined to make the art for her baby’s room.  

Plus she knows her therapist will be pleased she’s taking some time for herself.

(Said therapist says she doesn’t need to try to win therapy and that need to win is something they can work on. This irked her at first, given how much work she’s already done on not being so desperate for the approval of authority figures. But she knows now, as with everything, there being work left to do doesn’t negate the work already done.)  

She carves into the wooden mould carefully, but is immediately frustrated by how rusty she is, discarding the piece of wood for another again and again. But Amy keeps going, calming as it eventually comes back to her and she manages to relax into the rhythm of forming the pattern she wants. Her mind drifts to the child she’s doing this for, fear for the future still present, but thanks to her therapy sessions no longer debilitating. 

Amy pours the ink into the mould, wipes away the excess, and moves to place the wallpaper onto it. It’s a complex manoeuvre due to the size of her belly but she manages to make it work with no smudges. She then leaves the paper to dry.

She leans in the doorway, contemplating the life which will grow here. The fear is a restless weight, still something she’s working on, while also trying not to be too impatient with herself, and understanding it’s a process that takes time. After all some trepidation is only natural.

 

*

  

When the first false contraction of the day hits, Amy’s reaction is mild annoyance. She hopes the Braxton hicks doesn’t cause too much of a distraction during her lieutenants exam.

She’s going through all her note cards one last time, even though she has them all memorised and could recite them in her sleep. Then another contraction hits, it feels different, it feels more. It’s just the stress of the exam, there’s no way she’s in labour, she can’t be, not now.

Amy stares at the clock, counting down the minutes until the test, maintaining her stance that it’s just a wild run of Braxton Hicks, but saying nothing aloud. Then the sheer force of pressure breaks through her denial. 

She continues to say nothing as Jake drives her to the test centre. It’s fine, the contractions are still far apart. She will have four or possibly five contractions during the test, it will only lose her a few minutes, and she always finishes early anyway. It will be fine. She can do this.

 

*

 

Amy manages to lose herself in answering the questions, and the sharp burst of pain shocks a too loud sound out of her.

“Sorry,” she whispers in response to the raised heads, “false contractions.”

She forces herself to remain somewhat quiet the second time, but snaps her pencil in two.

The examiner approaches her and says, “Mam, you can take the test at another time.”

She glares and he winces and recoils slightly. In normal circumstances, provoking that reaction in an exam runner would horrify her. But now she’s just frustrated and slightly proud. He replaces her pencil.

There are three questions left when the regularity picks up and Amy is shifting back and forth between breathing and writing, getting the words too-quick onto the paper. The slight messiness of her penmanship is annoying but necessary to get it done.

The examiner approaches her again, more forcefully this time, but she turns him away just as forcefully.

Two questions left and she knows it’s going to be close. She considers whether it would be better to give two shorter answers or give one full answer and skip the last question entirely. Neither are acceptable. She can do this.

As soon as she finishes the last question her focus shifts to her baby. But Amy forces herself to check the test anyway, it takes far longer to go through than it should, but she has answered the questions to her satisfaction.

She closes the paper and immediately there are people at her side, helping her to another room.

 

*

 

It feels like it’s taking Jake forever to get to her, even though she knows it can’t be more than a few minutes as he’s already waiting for her outside. And then he’s here and she’s relieved.

And then it’s just pain and anger and she’s yelling.

 

*

 

Afterwards, holding her beautiful baby girl in her arms, she thinks about how perfect Jake was during the delivery. He’s come a long way from the man who would’ve called it yucky and run a hundred miles. She tells him,

“You’re going to be an amazing father.”

His gaze shifts from their daughter to her, eyes shining brightly, “Thank you, you’re going to be amazing too.”

Amy smiles. Preparing her child for the horrors of the world is still a daunting and impossible task, but she’s now confident that when the time comes, she’ll be ready to do it. She knows that one day her daughter will have to make her own way in the world. But for once, she’s happy to leave that for later and enjoy what they have now.