The next day, Quinn and Christine pedeconference through the station, she plugging him for info on the Vacation Murders case, he stonewalling. He tells her in light of his bosses getting shot at, if she puts any negative spin on the PD in her article, she ain't gettin' none tonight. He also gives up nothing on the bathtub murder and warehouse jumper, though there's no threat of withholding The Mighty Quinn (sorry) attached to those.

Deb's at her desk, arguing with Masuka against the test results saying Tarla Grant jumped. Quinn chimes in that autopsy results came back and reported a just-discovered tumor. Maybe she was "taking the easy way out"? Deb won't buy it and cites the lack of suicide note. Quinn -- less harsh about it now -- says not everyone leaves a note.

Meanwhile, LaGuerta is quietly freaking to Angel about getting debriefed for their shooing incident. So freaked that she opted to wear her purple jacket and skirt in a shade of Lenten violet rather than Screaming Ruby Blue. She tells him they need to get their story straight about why they left the precinct at 12:30 and arrived at Nikki's apartment at 3:30. Angel coolly says they grabbed a bite to eat, then got a flat tire. Works for LaGuerta, though I'll be sure to let you know whenever she breathes again. LaGuerta then heads to Deb's desk and lets her know they're closing the Tarla Grant case, Lundy be damned. Deb protests, but LaGuerta's adamant: She can follow up on her own time if she wishes, but between the Vacation Murders and Lisa Bell, her plate is awfully full.

Dexter walks into work on the phone with Rita (um...who just drove him to work, then?), who's telling him that Cody cut his foot on glass from the car that crashed up on the lawn. He's fine, but this is just another reason (well, "reason") for Dexter to go after Jesse, I guess. When he gets off the phone, Quinn's already made a beeline to Dex's office. He wants to know WTF about the Dolphins tickets. He's been going out of his way to make friends, but Dexter keeps throwing it back in his face. Weary of this whole dance, Dexter tells it straight: "I don't care if you're a dirty cop." And while this should placate Quinn, it instead sets him off on a localized rant about how hard he works and how little he gets paid and he puts his life on the line and that money would've ended up in the pocket of some fatass evidence clerk anyway and don't you DARE call him a dirty cop. Dexter naturally doesn't need this noise. He takes it all back and simply reassures Quinn that he had no interest in ratting him out. "Just keep my sister out of it, okay?" Quinn looks at Dexter with some curiosity but also some contempt: "You don't understand any of this, do you?" (DO YOU THINK HE MEANS ABOUT BEING A SOCIOPATH BECAUSE THAT'S WHAT IT SOUNDS LIKE HE MEANS BUT OH WAIT HE MEANS SOMETHING ELSE.) "You can't, 'cause you're not a cop. You're not one of us." Damn, Quinn, way to be a dick now that you don't have to kiss his ass anymore.