- Capt. Frank Furillo: I've seen this before, don't think you're the only ones. You walked in the wrong doorway and got smacked, you both ought to be dead. Not because you screwed up, and not because you're bad cops, you're not, in fact you're exceptionally good, but it happens. And if you survive, it's never like it was, it's always with you: the what ifs, which one of us failed? The shame, embarrassment, the anger, and most of all, the fear of going back out there.
- Officer Andrew Renko: It doesn't faze me, Captain.
- Officer Bobby Hill: That's bull! You were scared out of your socks, turn on that light switch?
- Officer Andrew Renko: Who's telling who who's scared?
- Officer Bobby Hill: Sure I was, I can admit it, Renko, I've got no problem with that.
- Officer Andrew Renko: Then admit it! You're SWIMMING in it! Alright, so I'm nervous out there, big deal, you just make me plainclothes and I'll get over that REAL FAST.
- Capt. Frank Furillo: Until I hear otherwise, Phil will be finding you separate duty assignments.
- [leaves the room]
- Officer Bobby Hill: [sees Renko tearing up] Oh man, don't start that.
- [Renko starts crying, Bobby starts crying]
- Officer Bobby Hill: Will you stop that?
- Officer Andrew Renko: Don't tell me what to do. You wouldn't last more than 10 minutes out there without me anyway.
- Officer Bobby Hill: Oh yeah? I haven't been doing too good with you anyway.
- [they look at each other and start laughing, then resume crying]
- Officer Bobby Hill: Oh man!
- Officer Andrew Renko: [stands up and grabs Hill] We need each other, Bobby.
- [hugs him]
- Officer Bobby Hill: [smiling] I'm afraid we do, Cowboy.
- Officer Andrew Renko: Look, uh, why don't we just go get something to eat and uh, go back to work?
- Officer Bobby Hill: Yeah.
- Capt. Frank Furillo: I got half a dozen report cards from civilians who seem to think you're a couple of out-patients from county psychiatric; what the hell's wrong with you?
- Sgt. Phil Esterhaus: Before I get to the last item, I'd like to interject a personal observation. Seems we've reached a new low, graffiti-wise, in the men's and women's lavatories. Now, as an organization of mature men and women, I suggest that we clean up our act, our vocabulary, at the very least, our spelling. To the anonymous bathroom poet, breast is generally spelled: b r e A s t.
- Fay Furillo: You know, I had an erotic dream about you the other night. Do you ever dream about me?
- Capt. Frank Furillo: [smiles] I've been known to.
- Officer Andrew Renko: I want to go into plainclothes; Esterhaus promised me he'd talk to you about it.
- Capt. Frank Furillo: Alright, let's run the request up to division; you know you'll have to leave the precinct.
- [to Bobby]
- Capt. Frank Furillo: What about you? What's your problem?
- Officer Bobby Hill: [about Renko] Him.
- Capt. Frank Furillo: Fine! Then it's solved: you're divorced.
- Officer Bobby Hill: [turns around, shocked] Just like that?
- Capt. Frank Furillo: You got it, Hill, just like that.
- [Bobby turns back to the window]