#methodcop

       there  was  nothing  like  being  stuck  on  desk  duty  instead  of  being  out  in  the  field.  andy  found  it  boring,  being  able  to  listen  to  what  was  happening  over  the  radio  but  not  able  to  do  anything  about  it.  

           “ what’s up , danger ? ”

        “ Do you always pull risky moves like that, or am I just unlucky enough to have witnessed a first? ”

“YOU’VE GOT TO BE SHITTIN’ ME.”

kara thrace surveys the dingy, dusty little apartment and resists the urge to double-check the address her captain gave her. four weeks undercover to catch a certain dealer, and this is what they came up with? she drops the duffel bag that constitutes as half of her worldly possessions on the dusty coffee table in the center of the small living room. for a moment nothing happens. THEN IT LETS OUT A TINY CRACK, and one of the table legs pops off. 

“awesome.” she reaches down, picks up the snapped piece of wood. then she turns and points it at her partner. “this is where we’re supposed to stayin’? this? really?” to prove her point, she raps the couch with the table leg. it creaks, and a piece of stuffing plops out of the back. “CHRIST, SAM — even my place back in the city is better’n this. and that’s saying something.” 

rolling up her sleeves, kara barges through one of the doors leading out of the weensie-deensie kitchen-dining area. THERE’S A MUFFLED BONK followed by a muted clatter, and then the sound of a toilet flushing. she re-emerges seconds later. “bathroom works, thank god.” then she’s breezing past him through the other door. 

kara opens it and stops short. when she turns back to look at swarek, she’s still got that grimace on her face — BUT NOW THERE ARE SPARKS IN HER EYES, and they’re not exactly nice. she points a thumb behind her, mirrors his pose leaning against the wall, tries to look nonchalant. “one bed, one bath, swarek. literally.” 

another peek in the bedroom. ah hell, it’s not even a queen, it’s a frakkin’ full-size.