Back with Deb, who has "defined an area for the residential search," at least that's what she's telling Doakes. "Good," says Doakes. "Well start canvassing tonight, you --" He's cut off by Deb's phone ringing. "That him?" Doakes asks. "Yeah, how'd you know?" "'Cause you got that stupid-ass grin on your face, again." He tells her to take the call, and she does. "Hey, super-cop, what's the word?" Rudy asks. She tells him that she's in the middle of something important. "Got it," he says. "I'll be quick. You never answered my text. Do I have the pleasure of your company this weekend?" Deb sighs: "Yeah, about that..." "Oh, come on, Deb, it's only two days." She tells him about the break in the ITK case, and she assures him that "as soon as we catch this douchebag, you and I are going to spend a whole week together in bed. You are not going to be able to get rid of me." He says that's fine, but he hopes she'll at least join him for dinner tonight. "You gotta eat, right? So, why not eat dinner with me...on this yacht I'm on." Ooh, I hope he has some proper tunes for his voyage! "Where the hell'd you get a yacht?" asks Deb. "I rented it. I thought we'd have a nice couple days together, but we could still have a nice night. And there is that thing we need to talk about..." Deb says she can give him an hour. "A real hour, not one of your let's-stretch-this-out-til-2-AM-might-as-well-stay-and-have-sex hours." Doakes clears his throat obviously, reminding Deb that she's still at work and shit is kind of urgent. Rudy says he understands, and they hang up. Oh, boy. Dexter is not going to be happy with this development.