#its implied whatevz

[thedive]

the red dwarf incident

i read this post and was immediately hit with inspiration for a ficlet lmao

***

There were three examples of people that Jake Peralta trusted more than he trusted Ray Holt. The first, his wife - obviously. He trusted Amy above all people, like, probably ever. The second, his mother - she’d been there since the beginning, was a kickass nana, and made a mean banana nut bread. The third, Taylor Swift - she just got him. And besides... the restraining order was a huge misunderstanding.

That said - in the search for a babysitter, those three two (“Taylor Swift can’t watch our baby, Jake.”) people were out of commission; Karen was out of town for the weekend on a pottery retreat, and Amy obviously couldn’t watch Mac - she’d be with Jake, on their own trip out of town; a quick business retreat for a meeting that he understood to be very important to Amy.

“Holt’s not going because I’m going. We could see if Holt and Kevin want to Macsit for a night?” Amy suggested, and Jake nodded immediately. He loved when Holt watched their son - he always got the strangest feed-b, and boy, was it entertaining to watch Holt care for a quasi-toddler. “That’s a great idea,” Jake answered, and that was the end of the who’s going to watch Mac? dilemma. 

-

“Alright, he’s all set up. His diaper bag is next to his swaddle and I’m pretty sure I packed way too many bottles -”

“I can confirm. This is far too many bottles,” Holt said, taking a glance between the bag at his feet and Jake. Inside, there were about nine - true. Far too many bottles for a meager 28 hour trip. 

“Alright. But anyway, he should have everything. Do you need anything? Before I go?” Jake asked, flirting with the doorway. He’d been stepping in and out of it for almost twenty minutes now; he couldn’t help the fact that he was a bit nervous to leave Mac overnight, even though there was no one better fit to step in than his own father bother figure. “No, Jake, I have more than enough. I see you have even packed us a coloring book... from your own personal collection?” Holt asked, the left corner of his mouth leaning skyward.

“Ha-ha. I mean, it was mine, and then me and Amy had a baby, and now it’s - it doesn’t matter,” Jake responded, his own amusement working its way to his face via a crooked grin. “I did. He loves that thing. We go nuts with the crayola,” he bragged, crossing his arms with a satisfied smirk.

Holt began unpacking, laying aforementioned crayola crayons on the coffee table, the coloring book nearby. Mac wasted no time opening it, picking out a blank page to begin to scribble on; he was getting better at staying inside the lines, but used whatever colors he wanted, for the most part. There was a sun waiting to be colored nestled in the upper right corner of the page - Jake and Holt both remained in quiet awe as Mac began filling it in blue.

“Ah. In this world, Neptune can be viewed from the sky with the naked eye, I see,” Holt commented, his brows raised as he watched the toddler work. Mac was none the wiser to his commentary - he instead busied himself with staying within the lines as best he could, filling in his blue sun fully.

“What? No, it’s the sun. It’s just blue,” Jake said, squinting a little.

“No, not anymore. The little guy decided to change the sun right before our very eyes, it seems,” Holt mused, his own attention shifting down to a diligently at work Mac, busy turning his blue sun red. 

“So you admit it’s the sun,” Jake added, his lips splitting into a victorious smirk. Holt only rolled his eyes before returning their gaze right back to the tiny artist sitting before them both. 

“It was the sun,” he said, and it pained him to even admit that - the sun was not blue, plain and simple. “It’s now a red dwarf. And it has killed everyone in it’s solar system.”

Jake just blinked, brows furrowed as he looked between Ray and his son. Mac looked up, made eye contact with the both of them, and decided to simply nod, immediately resuming his activities. Jake smiled.

It was then that he realized it was going to be absolutely fine - there were no hands more capable for Macsitting than Raymond Holt’s.