(no subject)

[possiblybeokay]

"Just don't... touch anything in here."

Comments

[possiblybeokay]

[There's no subtlety to the lift of her shoulders, the small shake of her head. She's sharp, true, but she's hardly a mind-reader--even with the man she's been working under for what felt like an eternity now. Jack Crawford went into left field now and then, but hadn't it got them closed cases? Theirs not and all that.

She lifts one arm briefly to brush a few loose strands of hair back from her face, gloved hand extended away from her face.] Saving the big guns, probably. Not-- [and her already raised hand lifts a touch submissively in his direction] --that you aren't a big gun. More like...

[Her hand wavers, drops to her knee, lips pressing together for half a second. A gun less likely to explode in its own face? Seemed harsh.]

A gun that lets another gun stay home and try to get some sleep.