1x09 Little Girl Lost
"You're a psychopath."
"I prefer creative."
She side steps him, "Yeah well I'd prefer you didn't follow me around all the time."
"Sadly for you, Beckett, the Mayor signed off on it."
"The Mayor can bite me."
He stutters and laughs, skipping after her only to come up short when she stops dead, swinging around to face him. She glares, hellfire, snagging the coffee from his hand and gulping at it viciously.
"Tetchie in the mornings, detective?"
"I didn't sleep well." She throws her eyes hard in his direction and he feels instantly sorry for aggravating her. It's been a crappy few days, but the case is over now. A little girl safe. Doesn't mean it won't stay with him.
He confesses quietly, "Me either."
She pauses, "Really?"
"I have a daughter, Beckett, I spent the night torn between hovering outside her door to listen to her breathe and barging in to nail her windows shut."
Her lips quirk, "Where did you settle in the end?"
"On a chair at the end of her bed."
She smiles, "Bet she loved that."
"Less and less with each passing year." The smile lingers, he holds the door open for her, "What?"
"Nothing." She shrugs, sighs, "Just, I keep forgetting you have a kid." She eyes him almost suspiciously, "You're a dad."
"Is that a problem?"
"No, it adds layers." She gasps in shock at her own confession, hand rising up, covering her mouth.
He laughs, "Not the only onion around here, Beckett," he leans in close, "feel free to peel me anytime."