"You're bossy."

Sam mumbled as he was seated on a chair on the corner of the motel room. You had just walked in and asked about the case when he suddenly said that. You stopped and turned to him.

He looked up at you and shrugged as he repeated: "You're bossy."

Then he looked you up and down for a moment and a grin spread over his face.

"And short." He laughed softly. It was a dumb laugh. Not his usual one.

You asked if he was drunk and he answered: "Yeah. So?"