Well! That went sour rather quickly. It was obvious that Sloane was no good and was using a mixture of daddy tricks -- "This is how things are done," "You're doing a great job," "Women don't really understand" -- to push Holder around, but I thought we'd spend more time on that and see how dirty Holder would get. I mean, it's better to have him on the outs with the conspiracy, in terms of liking Holder and getting him back with Linden, but it was still an interesting color to play. Instead, it took him two days to go from co-conspirator to Even Less Useful Than Sarah.
Ignoring another call from Holder -- Hands up who thinks he's about to go do a bunch of meth? -- and with Nilsson on TV formally dropping the Richmond charges, Linden heads into Oakes's office... To find the slampiece known as Mark Moses lurking instead! YES!
Lt. Erik Carlson: "I'm your new lieutenant. Oakes was forced into early retirement on the back of this sloppy police work that got Richmond shot and then off the hook."
Linden: "We both know it wasn't sloppy work. We both know those pictures were faked and that this is a conspiracy."
Carlson: "I may or may not know that. I do admire your tenacity, don't get me wrong. I just don't think you're a great cop."
Linden: "Well, I don't wanna go out like that, with a bad arrest and that's the last thing I did. It's clearly more important to me than feeding myself or not being homeless or getting married or providing anything like a normal life for my child. Also, it is about justice."
Carlson: "Fine. Look my hot little ferret face in the eye when I say that Nilsson made me promise you could solve this murder."
Linden: "Great. And I don't want a partner."
Carlson: "Nope. You and Holder are together forever. Even if he is still trying to kill you, like in your fevered imagination."
They smirk at each other forever and ever and ever. God, I wish Mark Moses would chase me through a house with a knife or rob me in an alley or something. Sexually harass me in a 1960s way that chips at my very sense of self. That is like all I want in the world is to be the Saggie Baggie Gyllenhaal to his James Spader -- the psychosexual Peggy Olsen to his mordantly oppressive Duck Phillips. I am crazy about that dude. He sends me to these Jenna Maroney places I swear I don't even have. Maybe this is why Chris Brown still has fans, this kind of thing. There is no pride in it, that's for sure.