"Why am I not surprised?" Deb asks. She looks at him out of the corner of her eyes, the smallest of smirks forming on her lips. "I think you could really work some Mickey ears, Sonny."
Deb doesn't really do vacations, either. The longest she was away from the police station, before Chicago, was after her serial killer fiance nearly killed her - and that wasn't exactly a pleasant vacation so much as an unhealthy amount of time spent at the gym. Deb's at her happiest when she's working toward something, when she has a case - even if the case is something flat-out horrible.
Of course you are, Sonny.
She feels more than sees that look of concern, but she doesn't mention it. She might not be okay and there's a good chance she doesn't look it, but that's why she's here, instead of back in her room in the Tower. No one's going to be anywhere near okay until they get this figured out.
"Not even if I write them a real nice note? I'd even keep the expletives to a minimum. Three per sentence, tops." Because Deb is generous, too.
Deb's eyes widen at the device, half skeptical and half impressed. She doesn't know what she was expecting, but it probably wasn't this. She watches the thing go as she listens to Sonny speak, then nods once. "Good call," she says. "I think." She isn't questioning your methods, Sonny. She's just a little nonplussed, waiting to see what the sniffer thing does.
And then she looks up at him and smiles, not brightly but still amused. "What, no enthusiasm for the questioning the witnesses portion of the evening? You know that's my fucking favorite."
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Deb doesn't really do vacations, either. The longest she was away from the police station, before Chicago, was after her serial killer fiance nearly killed her - and that wasn't exactly a pleasant vacation so much as an unhealthy amount of time spent at the gym. Deb's at her happiest when she's working toward something, when she has a case - even if the case is something flat-out horrible.
Of course you are, Sonny.
She feels more than sees that look of concern, but she doesn't mention it. She might not be okay and there's a good chance she doesn't look it, but that's why she's here, instead of back in her room in the Tower. No one's going to be anywhere near okay until they get this figured out.
"Not even if I write them a real nice note? I'd even keep the expletives to a minimum. Three per sentence, tops." Because Deb is generous, too.
Deb's eyes widen at the device, half skeptical and half impressed. She doesn't know what she was expecting, but it probably wasn't this. She watches the thing go as she listens to Sonny speak, then nods once. "Good call," she says. "I think." She isn't questioning your methods, Sonny. She's just a little nonplussed, waiting to see what the sniffer thing does.
And then she looks up at him and smiles, not brightly but still amused. "What, no enthusiasm for the questioning the witnesses portion of the evening? You know that's my fucking favorite."
Oh, the sarcasm. All the sarcasm.