Thread: Cough Drops and Corpses: A Dexter RP (SevenxWine)

Stepping into the station, Dexter was tense just the way Batista did, Dexter had an established routine that he had followed religiously for years, and the appearance of Rita very early that morning had shaken it. Grateful that his face always obeyed his command, he still managed to wear an expression of slightly vapid friendliness the upside to feeling nothing was that facial expressions also meant nothing to him - they were purely for show. Of course, Dexter was convinced that he wasn't the only one who did it with a donut box held in his hands, Dexter watched Batista whistle his way over to his desk, a prime example of human beings putting on a show. He was pretty sure that was why he liked Batista - and Vince, for that matter. They both pretended. Initially Dexter considered heading straight for his lab - the temptation to get to his clean, dark little fishbowl was strong - but Masouka's sideways glance had him furrowing his eyebrows questioningly until he elaborated. Dead cat. Deb's door. Somehow, he was going to be blamed for this, Dexter decided as he stupidly continued to hold onto the donut box and stare off into space because the Passenger was slowly raking its nails down his spine and leaving trails of cold. Then it purred . Ain't that right? Masouka asked, and stared at him, Dex? Huh? Dexter asked. Psycho killers? Masouka elaborated. Q'uest que c'est? Dexter tried, and Vince gave him one of those funny, crooked stares that he did sometimes. Cute. Vince said flatly, You didn't hear about it? No. Dexter said, and Vince shrugged his face. Don't worry, Vince said, patting him on the back in a way that was almost consoling, I'm sure you will. Yeah. Dexter said, reduced to monosyllables before he dragged himself off to his lab, oblivious to both Angel and Vince staring after him. Rita's place had been broken into around two in the morning and Deb's door had been decorated at seven - Miami had one of the highest crime rates in the world and the incidents were very different, but Dexter couldn't ignore the call of the Passenger. And anyone with a dark enough mind would recognize they were both connected to him. Stepping into his lab, Dexter stopped in the doorway because a pair of eyes were staring at him through the darkness anyone else wouldn't have seen him in the absolute shadow of the room, but Dexter's finely honed night vision had him meeting the eyes unflinchingly. Slowly, he reached out and flicked on the light, Good morning Sergeant, Dexter said cheerfully, and extended the box to him, Donut? Doakes continued to glower at him, and for an instant Dexter thought he might swat the box away and lunge at his throat instead, he disregarded it. It was somewhat dissappointing. I hear your girl called in this morning. Doakes said. Word gets around. Dexter said, setting the box onto a filing cabinet and turning to his desk he moved to roll out his chair, but Doakes set a foot against it to stop him. And your sister called in an hour ago. Of course Doakes would have noticed. Yeah, I just heard about it. Dexter said, Was about to call her. There was a cat nailed to her door. Doakes added, even though he had to be aware that Dexter knew that detail already, What do you think about that? Do you think it's funny? I guess I'd have to know the breed before I could really get the punchline. Dexter admitted, and he watched Doakes' face twist angrily the Sergeant had never hidden his aggression, and especially not towards Dexter who had, for some reason, set Doakes off from their very first encounter. There was an unholy hatred that radiated from Doakes, as though he was constantly in search of a reason - anything that would allow him to break someone's neck. Listen you fuckin' psycho, Doakes said, because he was always subtle with his opinions, If I find out you had anything to do with this shit, I will fuck you up. Right. Dexter said, dismissive, Okay. Doakes continued to stare, but his expression had changed into something strange, so Dexter raised his eyebrows and added Got it. Before the Sergeant stormed out of the lab, slamming the door so hard that the hinges rattled. For a long moment Dexter stood there watching the door, and then slowly looked down to his hand he realized then why Doakes had given him that look - at some point during their discussion, he had begun to play with his keychain, and had been toying with the little decapitated barbie head that hung from it.