Amy Santiago- Parents (a)

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Binders upon binders sat across your kitchen counters as Amy tried to prepare for one of the most important days of her life, you had been together and serious for a good few months after meeting at the nine-nine but she was yet to meet your parents.

"Why are you so scared?" She paced backwords and forwards, scanning through her archive of folders looking for something that had very clearly been lost.

"I have never had to meet anybody's parents before. Just... hold on, I have something for this."

With an 'aha' she proudly raised a sheet of paper out of a quite old looking plastic wallet.

"Okay, what are your parents' names?" Her favourite pen rose from her pocket and made it's way to the top of the page.

"You know my... Amy are you filling out fact sheets on my parents!?" In a vain attempt to hide the very obvious questionnaire air from your view she sprawled her arms across it.

"But if I was... I might ask where they were born."

"Yes, you might do."

"Just for I don't know... a fun little hypothetical game where were they born?" She looked up at you hopefully, from the looks of things there was a lot of questions and you would still be answering them after she met them.

"Why would you even want to know where they're born? How could that possibly help you get along with them?" You tried to get a peek of the sheet but she moved her way around the counters, blocking your view.

"I could look at the surrounding areas, I could check the crime rate, local sports stadiums do you know what kind of hobbies they each had between the ages of one and five?"

"I have got absolutely no idea... wait... I think that my mom was into ancient Greek swimwear at some point." She didn't quite get the joke, her face lit up and she scribbled notes down.

"And your dad?" She asked, her pen poised and ready to strike.

"My dad... he was definitely into bird watching."

"Bird watching? Didn't you say that he had ornithophobia?" Her hands flicked from page to page as her face filled with dread.

"What? No... you must have misheard me; he has a fear of wood."

"Oh my god? I had no idea how I am meant to prepare for something like that." Her normally neat handwriting became a sea of scribbles as she devolved into panic.

"Amy." She looked up, her hair strewn over her head and her palms struggling to grip the pen. "I'm messing with you."

Brooklyn Nine-Nine One Shots And ImaginesDove le storie prendono vita. Scoprilo ora