Dexter isn't used to you like this — happy, upbeat, sunshiney detective, acting so quiet and withdrawn. He noticed it from his office the moment you sat down at your desk, the way the room hadn't quite brightened as it usually did when you walked in.

Even now, heading into a crime scene, you hadn't made any jokes to lift up the mood, or smiled at anybody. Something was up, and it wasn't like it was up to him to find out, but it didn't feel right leaving you with no one to talk to.

Once he saw you beginning to wrap up, prepared to head back to the precinct, Dexter jogged up to catch you. Maybe he could catch a ride, offer to pay for a street-side burrito on the way back.

"Hey, detective?" he asked, holding his supplies close to his side. "Mind if I hitch a lift from you? I came with Masuka, but he's still taking photos."