In her dimly lit dining room, Ronnie smokes, to the accompaniment of a chanteuse on the stereo, a glass of fancy-looking red wine, and a cigarette. Presently, there's a knock at her door. She spreads the curtains to see McNulty on her front step, and closes them again; hidden, she makes this sort of "Oh, of COURSE" pre-defeated shrug, and opens the door, to find him looking less "tore down" than usual. Like, I think he might have stopped at Teddy's House Of Natural on the way over and tidied up his fade. "Why are you here?" mutters Ronnie. "I'm thinking about something," says McNulty. Are you thinking about getting some? 'Cause I am, now. McNulty asks to come in -- but in that way that's just a formality, as he's already taking a step. Ronnie keeps him on the porch. McNulty looks surprised and a little amused that she's somehow managing to resist him, and Ronnie asks, "What's the matter, McNulty? No one ever tells you 'no'?" He shrugs that he should have called. Ronnie rolls her eyes and starts to close the door on him, but not hard, so he's able to stop it with his fingertips and ask, "How do you clone a beeper?" "You show up at my door at nine o'clock to ask me that?" she snaps. A little disappointed, are we? McNulty's noticed that, unlike every other drug dealer who has a cell phone, the Barksdale crew uses pagers. Ronnie rolls her eyes again, and lets him in.
Inside, Ronnie's living room looks like a department-store photo shoot. That couch looks like it's never had an ass on it. She asks what McNulty wants to do, and he explains that he wants to arrest D'Angelo again, take his pager away from him for a time, clone it, and then give it back to him; he just doesn't know if they can do it without a subpoena from the pager company. Ronnie, smirking, gets a fat file off the dining-room table where she's been working, and throws it at McNulty: "A judge signs something like that, you can clone a beeper...Probable cause coupled with an exhaustion argument. You've got to show the judge that other investigative methods have failed. You'll also need a supervisor who wants you to clone a suspect's pager, knowing that it might lead to who knows what else -- pen registers, wiretaps." McNulty says that Daniels will come around, and Ronnie laughs: "Daniels will have your ass!" McNulty thanks her for the file and is like, "See ya." Ronnie, deflated, asks, "That's it?" She sighs. "No," McNulty tries. She sighs again, and he drops the folder and gives her his monkey sex eyes. They're more effective than you might actually think, despite his cragginess. And let me just say, I am the same age now as Dominic West was when he filmed this; that dude might want to invest in some moisturizer. Unless they crag him up for the role, which I guess is possible. Anyway, Ronnie tries to look amazed and disgusted that he didn't come over at nine o'clock for a booty call, but it doesn't last long, as he leans in and plants a big fat kiss on her. She doesn't resist, but soon pushes him away and catches us up: "So let me understand. You're married, and a date is a room at the Best Western with the blinds closed. Now you're single, and a date is you coming over unannounced to learn the legal requisites for a pager intercept." Unh! Slow down, baby, let me pace myself! McNulty shrugs: "Pretty much." Ronnie shoves him in the chest: "No." "Okay," says McNulty pleasantly. "I hear you."