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The Lobster Tail

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It mostly all started when Gina wouldn't give him a bite of her lobster tail even though she was fully aware of Jake's inability to resist pastries, especially pastries he hadn't paid for, let alone any pastry named after a lobster, because everyone knew lobster was fancy. Damn you, Doug Judy.

All things considered, the ensuing slapfight caused a surprisingly minor amount of property damage.

"Ugh, you got cream in my hair. Gross!" Amy said as she ducked out of the way.

"Name of Amy's sex tape!" Jake said around the fingers he'd shoved in his mouth because he'd also gotten creamed.

Boyle gestured at the table and his eyes got really big like that time he'd been taking mime lessons. "Jake, you spilled salt. You can't just let it sit there. It's bad luck."

"Whatever, Bad Luck Boyle. I do what I want," Jake said.

That inspired a lively argument that included a lot more ragging on Catholicism than Jake would have expected for reasons he kept to himself, because he suspected they were maybe kinda racist? Plus everybody kept saying Judas Chariot's name wrong.

"Okay, everybody shut up now," Jake shouted.

"You shut up," Rosa said, but it seemed more like a kneejerk reaction than an actual threat.

"Look, I broke the only mirror in my apartment this morning and a black cat crossed my path on the way to work, so I'm going to do this even though it doesn't follow the Talmudic tradition, because honestly I'm not sure what that is," Jake said, and tossed a handful of salt over his shoulder.

Everyone was staring over his shoulder in alarm, even Rosa, although her 'alarmed face' involved a subtle variation in eyebrow position that he'd learned to read at the academy.

"Captain Holt's standing behind me, isn't he?" Jake asked. "Is this becoming a thing? Like with Gibbs on NCIS? And sometimes people psych themselves out thinking he's there when he isn't there, because --" Jake glanced over his shoulder and flinched away. "Hey, okay, you're totally there."

"Magical thinking has no place at this precinct," Captain Holt said. "Also, I believe tradition dictates that you throw a pinch of salt over your left shoulder to ward off the devil, not the entire contents of the salt shaker."

"My bad," Jake said, and then turned to whisper loudly, "Are you the devil?"

After a short period of consideration, Captain Holt said, "No."

"Broken mirror? Black cat? Spilled salt? This is really bad, Jake," Boyle said as soon as the Captain left the break room.

"You're so superstitious," Amy said. "You're like an actor with all that 'break a leg' or 'The Scottish Play' stuff." She even used finger quotes.

Jake stared at her. "You don't go to the theater. Like, ever."

Amy made a face. "Well, if I did go to the theater, I would need to know the proper etiquette, so I read a book."

Gina finally finished off her lobster tail and licked her fingers. "Yeah. When I tell my fellow dancers to break a leg, deep down inside, I truly wish them irreparable harm."

"Nice," Rosa said, punching Gina's arm and laughing for a disturbingly long time.

Gina clutched her arm and mouthed 'ow' at Jake. He nodded in sympathy.

Boyle put his hand on Jake's shoulder. "Just tell me one thing: did you throw away the pieces of the broken mirror?"

"Of course," Jake said, because once every couple of months he did actually take out the trash. He wasn't an animal.

"This is even worse than I thought," Boyle said. "You're coming with me."

Boyle set up Jake at his desk with some burning incense that he claimed was sandalwood and jasmine, but it just smelled like dirty hippie.

"I got you a charm bracelet," Boyle said. "Pandora. It's really popular with the ladies."

"Those beads are so expensive," Terry grumbled at his desk. "Have you seen what they charge for the Disney Collection? $50 for a Minnie Cupcake!"

"Nice box," Jake said admiringly. He never gotten anyone jewelry with a box this nice. "Boyle, this says it's the 2015 Valentine's Collection."

"Don't even worry about it."

"I wasn't worried. It's just kinda weird," he said as Boyle took the bracelet out of the box and fastened it around Jake's wrist.

"There's nothing weird about our bromance, Jake."

"When did you have time to get this, anyway? Did you have this with you already? Is this a re-gift?" he demanded, jangling the bracelet on his wrist. "Why does this fit my wrist so perfectly?"

"Here's your horseshoe," Boyle said, tucking it into the kangaroo pocket of Jake's hoodie. "And a rabbit's foot."

"Is that all?" Jake asked, because he could feel Terry's look of disapproval burning the side of his face. Jake turned to get full frontal Terry disapproval. It was totally Mr. T. "I pity the fool!"

"You know that's right," Terry said.

"There's one more thing," Boyle said. "We can cleanse your chakras with fresh flowers. But I can't afford a bouquet at winter prices, so we could just go to the produce section at the grocery store and breathe them in there."

"Pass," said Jake.

"It's your funeral," Boyle said.

"You know I'm not having a funeral. The lady from HR came by to explain that when I waived my life insurance coverage, because who needs life insurance? And it turned out the life insurance goes to people after you die."

"Have you seen the urn that will turn you into a tree when you die?" Amy asked as she sat at her desk. "Captain Holt's Christmas present next year is locked down."

"Santiago, didn't you learn anything from last Christmas?" Terry asked.

Amy froze. "It's ten months away. He could change his rules."

"Rather than listen to the rest of this conversation, I'm going to find an umbrella to open indoors," Jake said.

Boyle shook his head. "You're breaking my heart."

"You're making it weird again," Jake said.