"Yeah, I dropped the ball on that one," Dan admitted with a grimace both from the bitterness of the coffee and the memory of acting so unprofessional as to not notify Kevin of Yasmine's involvement in the case. "I was just assuming that Homicide was going to take care of it. And, yeah, I know about assuming." He gestured toward Fischer, who was still talking on her walkie. "They call me 'sir,'" he chuckled, as if that were the strangest thing he could think of. He sobered. "But my footing's still unsure with them; I'm an outsider, too. Basically, before you came in, everyone treated me pretty much like they're treating you."
He shrugged. "They still don't like me but--" He grinned, knowing that Sterling didn't give a shit, knowing that he'd appreciate the honesty. "--I think they don't like you more. It was chickenshit of me to want to curry their favor," he murmured into his cup.
He raised his eyebrows slightly, more incredulous than sly; Yasmine had made him no similar assurances. Was there actually some truth to the rumors, or had he just bullied her into something she hadn't been comfortable with? He couldn't imagine the latter, not with Yasmine, not even with Kevin. Maybe he was just trying to grasp onto any sort of human characteristic Kevin even accidentally displayed.
"Gossip's always gonna be gossip, no matter where you are," he mumbled, feeling weary once more, letting out a long, almost therapeutic sigh. "Trust me, you're on the easy end of things, if that's all they're saying. Try being Fischer or, God forbid, Giordano," he commented grimly.