“I can do this myself,” John grunts, lighting his cigarette. He doesn’t need you: some hotshot who’s apparently a decent detective. You’ll get in his way. “Don’t know why you’re here.”

He knows why, actually. It’s because you desperately insisted on joining him on this case. You’re another thing he’s going to have to look over. John takes a drag of his cigarette to cool his irritation. Than he exhales.

“Whatever. Don’t get in my way, rookie.”