There is a tangible moment between them where she has a sad and world-weary smile, and he has his arrogant, superior façade. And it would be so easy to just take his hug and pretend that he isn't pulling away from her, away from her team.
(But he is a part of their team, isn't he?)
She curses the higher-ups for insisting that he work this case and she wants to take back the manipulation she used.
(Because she thinks she understands, and she would – should – never stoop that low)
And she discovers that goddamn attic that looks like it's his new, more convenient brooding space, with its low lighting, boxes of files in the corner not quite tucked out of sight, and dusty floor and panes of squares for windows that seem to box him in like his physical prison, never mind the internal one he battles daily. And he's sitting there with a well-worn book in his hand (suspiciously similar to the one he was holding not long after Kristina Frye disappeared), looking more dishevelled and tired than usual (he had a rough summer). And she pauses at the doorway, not announcing her presence yet, and her heart breaks. He's sitting in there between cases and knows that this is the exact meaning of pulling away.
(But at least he's not sleeping under a red smiley face painted on a plain white wall)
So when they're turning the television on and off, back and forth, just arguing, it feels almost as if they're back to their normal bickering selves. Except they struggle to define what normal is anymore.
(Normal has always been relative)
His seemingly endless supply of cheap tricks never cease to astound her, though she knows she should have gotten used to it after working with him for almost eight years. But that tale about the diamond in the tooth isn't the most outlandish one she's heard, and the psychological trick on Bertram's assistant isn't the cruellest one she's seen, and she wonders if she's just too tired to maintain the highest professional integrity on his behalf. Pick your battles.
(Although, she does have a soft spot for the ones involving origami frogs)
In the cases after, she includes him in more fieldwork – especially more with the rest of her team. Predictably, he immediately picks up on her obvious attempts, but lets her have it anyway. She does deserve more from him, and the team do make it more bearable, and he is able to somehow incorporate all of them in his schemes.
(There is a selfish part of him that knows he could use this to his advantage in that plan)
And the team can sense some sort of change from him, although being the highly trained detectives that they are, they know (especially her) that everything around him should be taken with a healthy dose of wariness and suspicion.
But it's a start and they'll get there with tentative steps.