"I'll tell you the truth, Major," says Daniels calmly. "Everyone who saw the punch wrote on it. And they've all got Prez throwing the punch, no question. But they've also got you addressing a subordinate officer as a-- What was it? A 'shitbird'?" Valchek turns around, grinning innocently, and drawls, "Faaaaack you. This is the Baltimore Police Department, not the Roland Park Ladies' Tea." Theeeen...maybe you should take your punch like a man instead of a little girl, seeing as it didn't even knock you over or draw blood and actually did nothing more than injure your pride? You think? Maybe? Daniels says that the detectives and FBI agents who witnessed the incident "gotta write it the way it happened": "I mean, I could probably get my own people to cheat it for you, but the FBI--" Daniels shrugs sadly: "You know how tight-assed they are." Hee. Valchek having paced around behind him, Daniels smirks a little to himself. Valchek sternly declares, "Roland Pryzbylewski rides the Southeastern desk on midnight shift for two months." Daniels practically breaks into a smile as Valchek goes on: "During which time, he writes a personal letter of apology to everyone seen that punch throwed." Is Valchek going to write a personal letter of apology to grammar, for that sentence? Oh, sorry, Valchek's not done: "In which he makes it absolutely clear that it was a penny-cheap sucker punch that would've got his ass kicked in by a real police except for the fact that I have my daughter's feelings to consider." Daniels, by now, has to be thanking God that Valchek is still behind him, and therefore can't see him totally just about to burst out laughing. Valchek: "And then he can come up here and say the same to my face." Daniels nods sagely, probably grateful that Prez's informal sentence doesn't include having to get "I AM VALCHEK'S BITCH" tattooed on his forehead, and nods sagely. Valchek says that if Prez still "wants to piss his career away" in Daniels's detail, Valchek "could give a hairy-ass fuck." This fellow must write the most charming Christmas letters. Daniels holds his composure long enough for Valchek to dismiss him.
Cop shop. The officer on the desk is having a crabby argument with someone as a grim-faced Louis waits in front of him, Nick sadly hanging back. Louis tries to get the officer's attention and gets a big fat hand in the face instead. Lester hurries in and flashes his badge, identifying himself and asking whether there's something there for him from Homicide. The desk officer hands him a manila envelope and tries to get back to his phone call, but Louis takes advantage of his momentary distraction by very loudly announcing, "My son wants to turn himself in on a warrant." Lester glances over, but from his perspective, Nick is obscured behind Louis. The desk officer acts all put-upon about dealing with this fugitive who's voluntarily putting himself in the pokey, and Nick hoarsely explains that he's wanted on drug charges. Cut to Lester, looking at his grisly photos -- a guy with a star and crescent on his inner elbow and stars on his knees. We can still hear Louis helping with the intake, and when the desk officer asks what name he's looking for among the district's outstanding warrants, Nick offers it up, clenching his jaw. Well, Lester heard that.