"Afraid you're screwed on that one," Beckett relented with a sigh. If she knew some kind of magical, legal way to get slaves out of their life sentences, she have been abusing that like hell already. "Still, could be a lot worse than goldfish boy, you know?"
As they walked she sighed, shaking her head. It meant a lot coming from someone she'd routinely put behind bars to hear that she was one of the good ones oddly enough, but it didn't help her sleep any better at night as she tried over and over and over again to make sure she wasn't missing something about these murders. Anything to solve them sooner, any little detail...
"Coffee," she replied dryly, nudging him back. And of course the ever present unsolved murder of her mother. "Old Jack's been saying he wants to sit on your throne every time he comes in for public intoxication, but we haven't let him yet. We're thinking of bronzing the toilet and putting a little plaque on it."