He and Deb met up for breakfast before her first official day working on the wrapping butcher case. "You can't bullshit me." She'll be surprised actually. But he doesn't say that taking a bite of his breakfast burrito instead. Man, this food truck has the best food in Miami. "Dex." Debra snaps. Oh, right serial killer case. "Help me out. LaGuerta still has me interviewing hookers."

He shakes his head at that. LaGuerta seems fixated on finding this witness but there wasn't one. How the others haven't figured that out yet he has no idea. "It's a waste of time. Deb if he was interrupted think."

He knows that Debra can figure it out. She just needs a little push. And that nudge seems to work as he watches the confusion disappear from her face. "Jesus Christ right then how did he have time to wrap up all the pieces." Yep. Finally, someone figured it out other than him. "She dumber than the boat throw her a fucking raft."

If LaGuerta ever heard Deb say that she would be blacklisted from making it into homicide. Good thing it's just the two of them. "But now we have a fourth body and the cuts were different and that's telling us a story the ritual is changing he's looking for some kind of inspiration and he's not finding it."

"So, he going to keep doing it until he gets it right." That's what he thinks is happening here. From everything he knows about serial killers would that make sense.

But then again, he isn't a detective or specialises in Serial Killers. He's just a semi trained killer to be who has a weird obsession with understanding why there is so much blood in his dreams. "I could be wrong."

"Yeah right." Thanks for the vote of confidence, Deb. "So how the hell was your date with Rita last night."

It was going alright until he saw another body dropped and spent the rest of the night distracted from Rita as ideas on the case took over. Which he then made even worse when he was so lost in his own thoughts about this new serial killer and explaining it to Rita that he forgot about her past. Forgot everything he knew he shouldn't do in order to make her feel comfortable and safe.

After telling Rita what this killer was doing she looked scared. The fear of a serial killer stalking the streets of Miami is enough to make anyone worried. So, in his infinite wisdom and forgetting about the Ex-husband who beat and raped her, he put his hand on her thigh. It wasn't meant in a sexual way. He just did it wanting to comfort her. To assure her everything was going to be ok and that the police would catch him. It was a calming move he did with other girlfriends.

Only Rita didn't see it that way. His thoughtless actions triggered her PTSD from her husband that left her terrified and fleeing from his car to the safety of her own house. And the worst part... it took him too long to react. He watched her scurry away confused at her sudden action. He watched her run inside unable to comprehend what just happened.

Until it all hit him at once and he cursed his own stupidity. What was he thinking. How could he be so careless. He was tempted to chase after her and beg her forgiveness for crossing that well established line. But he knew that going after her would only make things worse. Right now, he was no better than her ex and him chasing after her would not help the situation at all. That would have only made things a hundred times worse.

Instead, he hit the steering wheel of his car and headed home. He was planning on calling her later today to apologise. Allowing her some time to calm down after the awful memories he made her relive. From there they could figure out their next steps.

But he's not going to tell Debra that. Doesn't want to disappoint her after his mess up. So instead, he does his best to smile and lie to the closest person in his life. "Great you should try it sometime."

"Well then find me a guy I can trust." They stare at each other with one shared thought going between them before she quickly moves the subject on. There is something they don't allow themselves to think about. Why there ignore the jokes and taunts others make towards them. "I need to transfer to homicide then we'll see about a life." He highly doubts that. Because as soon as Debra moves to his department, she will be working her ass off to earn her shield and then move up the chain of command. She's had her whole career planned out since she was twelve. He admires that about her. He couldn't figure out what he wanted to be until halfway through college. "Tell me what you know about cell crystallization."

Now that's a conversation change he was not expecting. "What do you mean."

"I heard the corner say it last night. He was talking about that dead headless chick." There's a gleam in her eyes that he's come to know so well. The look where she has something up her sleeve. The one that would always land the two of them in trouble as kids.

"You got that look in your eye."

A small smile builds on her face as she keeps her excitement under wraps. "I was there before you and Angel and I noticed this body looked different then the other ones. The pieces were cold like meat packing cold so is that what cell crystallization means."

Nodding he can't believe he didn't think of that. It's so obvious. "My god that's genius."

Not what Deb wanted to hear. "Dex."

"Sorry. That makes sense cold slows the flow of blood." And keeps the body from decomposition allowing him the time to cut up the bodies and transport them to his chosen spot when he's ready,

"Why the hell is that important," Debra asks but Dexter is too lost in his thoughts to pay attention. "Come on I got to show LaGuerta and her boys. They're making fun of me. They're saying the only way I'm closing cases is on my back."

Wait what. Now he does hear that. "Whose saying that." He needs names. His overprotective side is triggered and he is already thinking of all the ways he can get back at the people saying things to Debra.

The last time people were saying similar things about her they were in high school, and he ended up in a fight with four members of the basketball time. He won and those boys learnt to never mess with Deb again. But it landed him in heaps of trouble. Harry's intervention was the only thing to stop him from getting suspended never mind expelled for breaking one of their arms.

Debra shifts uneasily under his dark gaze. "Forget it. I... I just need to get out of Vice Dex please."

Hearing the please makes him calm down a little. He pushes down his anger reminding himself that Debra can handle herself and her creative use of curse words would be enough to get back at the idiots who taunted her.

Deb needs out of Vice and the best way to do that. "Refrigerated truck."

She blinks not getting it. "What the fuck are you talking about."

Taking another bite, he explains what he is thinking. "A refrigerated truck. He wants a cold environment to slow the flow of blood, clean and mobile so he can dump the bodies afterwards."

"So, I'm looking for a refrigerated truck now." She doesn't seem all that enthusiastic about the prospect of hunting for an ice truck in one of the hottest cities in America.

Trying to be helpful he adds on. "Probably a stolen one. Are there a lot of stolen trucks out there."

The highly unamused look on her face makes him regret saying that. "Are you kidding me it's Maimi." Deb goes back to eating and he for the love of him cannot tell if what she's saying is a good thing or a bad thing.

Dropping down in the seat next to Debra he asks, "Are you ready." Deb was going to present her case to everyone today.

"I'm going to shame this bitch." She sounds confident now that's good. But she can't be overly arrogant about this. This is all just a theory at the moment. One that might be wrong.

"Just state your case clean and easy and you'll be the hero." These meetings are to throw theories and ideas around. Establish reasons or looking at something they hadn't considered before. He's done it enough times to know how it goes. If she calmly offers her suggestion it will cause some debate in the room. He and Masuka forensics can back up her theory and get the ball rolling.

The Lieutenant enters the room instantly quieting everyone down as she takes her place at the front of the room. "OK settle down. Now has anyone tracked down my witness." Silence encompasses the room at her question. Everyone's eyes jumped around to avoid their boss's steadily growing annoyed gaze. "Oh, come on people someone needs to find something."

For an active serial killer investigation the fact they have next to nothing to go off is bad. Like really bad. The only way they can narrow down who the killer is as bad as it is is to think it they need him to keep killing and hope he makes a mistake. More women will have to die before they can get anything concrete on him.

Deb stands up a little shakily. "Uh lieutenant LaGuerta." Unless they find the truck and something that indicates who this is.

The Lieutenant doesn't seem all that happy about Debra standing up. He gets the bad feeling this isn't going to end well. "Aww office Morgan I didn't recognise you with your clothes on." A few snickers are heard around the room as Deb loses whatever confidence she was wielding.

Dexter on the other hand sits there frozen in shock. His mind replaying his bosses words about Deb over and over in his head unable to actually believe she just said that. Out loud. In front of everyone.

He knows about the office jokes and teasing. The offensive jokes made are normally meant to be funny so that even the person it's aimed at laughs. This... This was something else. Something vindictive and mocking. He knew that LaGuerta didn't like Deb. For reasons he still can't understand. Who doesn't love Deb. But he never thought she would call Debrea out like that in front of her staff.

"Uhh, I have an idea. Something in a different direction." Debra tries to power on. To ignore what was just said but she's lost all that gusto. She's standing there not sure how to handle what was just said and trying to be professional.

Something which makes LaGuerta entertained, and he feels his stomach sink. "An idea... then please share it with us." The Lieutenant doesn't care what Deb has to say but is using this as an opportunity to embarrass her.

He can feel the sudden panic Deb is feeling at being called out. The way she shifts awkwardly. She knows it too. Yet she still tries to overcome this setback. "Cell crystallization." She says with no confidence whatsoever.

"A little more confidence please." He mutters trying to help her. She has everything she just needs to speak confidently. The moment the refrigerated truck leaves her mouth and LaGuerta looks unimpressed he feels what little confidence Debra has in herself and this theory evaporates, and she stammers through a poor explanation. One which the Lieutenant immediately shoots down and goes back to talking about the witness before dismissing everyone.

Deb sits in dismay next to him now that everyone has left the briefing room. "The fuck was I supposed to say. The only reason I'm in here is because the captain said to let me in." She buries her head in her hands.

"But he didn't say that they have to listen to you." He should have known this was a bad idea. LaGuerta hates Deb. Hates that she went over her head to Harry's best friend and former partner to get put on the task force. He should have realised that LaGuerta wouldn't just let that sit. That she would find ways to punish Deb for doing that.

"Well right again." She chuckles with that unamused laugh. "I can say adios to my career I'm going to die a meter maid." She's accepted defeat. Given up when it comes to their idea. Already beating herself up over opening her mouth.

"No stop it Deb." He argues nudging her shoulder. She can still prove everyone wrong and prove that she has what it takes to work in homicide. "There's another way. Find the truck-"

His rousing speech is cut off by the door opening and LaGuerta glaring Deb down while leaning against the door. Her face softens when she turns to him, "Excuse me, Dexter." LaGuerta gives him a look that makes him shift uncomfortably. "My Office... Please."

Even Deb is taken aback by what she just witnessed between him and LaGuerta. "What the hell... What the fuck... Wait..." That uneasy amusement disappears from Deb's face as she comes to a startling realisation. "Are you boning her."

Taken aback by her accusation he stammers out his response. "What... No..."

"Oh my god." He can hear the hurt and betrayal in her voice. She shakes her head looking away from him so he can't see the pain he's caused. Deb jumps to her feet and heads towards the door.

Desperately he calls after her not wanting her to get the wrong impression. "No Deb wait."

"Shut up." She shoots back with venom.

"Deb." He calls again as she slams the door behind her. Well... Fuck

Debra isn't answering his calls or messages. He's starting to get worried. "Deb come on, please. You know I wouldn't sleep with her." The car behind him turns up its high beams a clear sign telling him to drive but he's a little busy right now. No one else is out so he can go around. "Can you please call me back. Or just send me a message saying you're ok. I'm getting worried here." This has been the longest Deb has ignored his existence since they were kids. Which only speaks to the rage and hurt she is feeling.

And he can't do anything to help. The whole thing that has caused this wedge between them isn't real but she's not picking up to hear that. To let them talk and work it out.

Whoever was behind him seems to have agreed with him and begins to pull around. Only then does he notice it's a fucking refrigerator truck. At this time of night. It drives past him slowly. Like it's taunting him. No way. No fucking way.

Instantly he's calling Deb again who unsurprisingly ignores his call. Fuck it. He starts to follow the car and desperately texts Deb texting, TRUCK.

Going against the natural instincts of man he decides to trail the truck. Now it might just be a normal truck driving around. But if it is the killer then he could find something to help the investigation and Deb. Hell, he might even save some poor girl's life.

As he follows right behind the truck, he is constantly messaging Debra and spamming the call button. If this is the murderer the last thing he wants to do is end up having to face them alone.

I THINK I FOUND THE FUCKING TRUCK.

FOLLOWING IT NOW

PICK UP YOUR DAMN PHONE

DEBRA

MIGHT BE FOLLOWING A SERIAL KILLER HERE.

DEBRA

ICE TRUCK

ANSWER

DEB

DEBBIE

TRUCK

TRUCK

TRUCK

"Dexter." Deb's voice rings out in the car as she answers his what two hundredth call.

"Thank fucking finally. I thought you would never pick up." If this was an emergency he would be fucked right now. Maybe they should start a rule that no matter the issue if the other person calls or texts they at least acknowledge it.

"Sorry... I was... busy." He knows what that means. She wasn't answering because she hooking up with someone. Great. What a lovely image to have while hunting a serial killer.

He tries to keep the irritation out of his voice. But fails. "Well, can you get unbusy. I'm following the ice truck."

"You need to call for backup." Deb impresses on to him.

Which is sweet knowing that she doesn't want him dead. But they can't call the others. Not yet. Like he said this might just be a normal guy making his delivery late. But if it's not at least Debra is on standby. "I'm calling you aren't I."

"Dex." Debra pleads sounding distressed and if the roles were reversed, he would be feeling the same and wondering how she could be so stupid. But here they are.

"We don't know if it's him or not." He tries to make the situation sound as bad as it potentially could be. Harry has trained him for things like this and he has a chance of fighting back against any attack. "But I would prefer to not do this alone."

"Where the hell are you." Dexter can hear the sound of her car door slamming shut in the background. Backup is on route making him a little better about this. He gives her whereabouts he is and the bridge he's coming up to.

There's a pause on the other end of the phone. "Dex that bridge is closed for construction." So, he could potentially trap the killer on the bridge. But if the killer is hunting for a new victim why head towards the bridge. He's driving away from the strip where the girls work. And if he was just doing his job, he would know the bridge on his normal route is closed.

This begs the simple question. "Then why is he heading there." One pause. Two pauses. "Oh." It hits him. He isn't following the killer. The killer is luring him somewhere. The purposely driving slow around him was to taunt him and get his attention. He fell into the trap.

Fuck

Harry would kill him for doing this.

"Dexter get out of there now," Deb shouts having the same thought as him. A little too late for that.

Ahead of him the truck is starting to reverse and faces him. "And he's turning towards me... that's not good."

"Dexter get out of there," Deb shouts again and he knows he should do the same. He should be reversing and driving away. But this is their only lead. And the idea of being chased by a truck through Miami is terrifying. His best chance to avoid certain death is to stay here. Or he thinks it is.

"A little late for that." He says as the truck's high beams blind him and quickly approaches him He prepares himself for what's coming.

"Dext-" The truck slams into the front of his car making the whole car shudder and spins to the side crashing into the wall. He himself is thrown around like a ragdoll and he loses his grip on his phone. There was a thudding noise followed by the smashing of his windscreen and something heavy landing on his lap.

Dazed from the crash he looks and barely registers his own head ringing when he looks down at something on his lap. After a beat notices the thing that landed on his lap is a fucking head.

He yells and tries to bat the head away scrambling for the door. He can vaguely hear Debra screaming for him on the other end of the phone but he's too busy desperately trying to escape the car to pay any attention to that.

Once free he drops onto the ground landing in broken glass and tries to crawl away. What the actually fuck.