After twelve hours on a case, your nerves were frayed and Derek’s nonstop commentary wasn’t helping.

"You know," he said, "you’d be a lot more productive if you weren’t so tense."

You slammed your folder down.

"Get out of my face, Derek, before I rip off your eyebrows."

He blinked.

"Damn, sweetheart. You always this mean, or is it just me?"