419, “Personal Foul”

Flack: Helluva game, Mess.
Danny: Yeah. Glad you could make it.
Flack: Me too. You should piss Lindsay off more often.
[Danny laughs]

Flack [talking about contestant making a shot from half court]: Never gonna happen.
Danny: Oh, what, you think you could do it?
Flack: You kiddin’ me? [Makes “swoosh” motion with his hand] Boom. Nothin’ but net, baby.

Danny: Ohh, I think he can do it!
Flack: No he can’t!
Danny: Wanna make a little wager?
Flack: Fifty bucks.
Danny: I hate to take a colleague’s money, but for you I would be happy to make the exception.
[Danny and Flack shake hands]

Danny: Either way, this game just went into overtime.

Danny: Surprised he didn’t kick the bucket from altitude sickness with these seats.
Lindsay: That or the nachos.

Flack: I’ll make some calls.
Danny [holding up swab]: I think I can make a call right now. This is somebody’s blood.

Stella: You didn’t notice a dead body there the last time you swept up?
Fountain Cleaner: Listen, sweetheart, I been cleanin’ fountains for this city for eighteen years. I lost track of how many dead bodies I seen in that time.

Fountain Cleaner: Anything else I can do for you?
Mac: Yeah. You can carry these [bags of change] down to the car.

Sid: You know, it’s just this sort of thing that’s always made me shy away from organized sports. Though, I do enjoy fencing.

Lindsay: Any stomach contents?
Sid: Like you wouldn’t believe. At least two hot dogs, popcorn, nachos, peanuts, an ice cream sandwich and almost a full liter of beer.
Danny: I’m surprised he could get outta his seat.

Lindsay: Wait a minute—Scott was taking an appetite suppressant?
Sid: Clearly a failure in this case. . . .

Sid [discussing cheerleaders’ lipstick prints]: In various shades—from Kandy Kitten to Sangria Sunset.

Danny: All right, looks like the ball’s in our court.

Reed [talking to himself after hanging up with Mac]: Well, if you won’t give ‘em a story, then I will.

Lindsay: So. . .you’re thinking Hanford hit back?
Danny: Peanuts! Popcorn! Poison!

Mac: Just because you read it online or in the newspapers doesn’t make it so.

Reed: Well, as one of those forced to speculate in the absence of any real information being released by the NYPD, I wonder if you could just tell me this, Detective Taylor: would you take a New York City taxi cab right now?
Mac: No, I wouldn’t. Not until this killer is found and brought to justice.

Jordan: Are you crazy? I’ve got a good mind to have the Mayor hail himself a cab right now.
Mac: Well, then maybe you’re crazy.
Jordan: Look, you can’t allow one man to bring the entire city to a standstill!
Mac: Jordan! One man put a bomb in his shoe and now we all get to tiptoe barefoot through the airport.

Jordan: Six hundred and sixty thousand people depend on taxis here every day.
Mac: They can walk or take the subway.
Jordan: What about the forty-two thousand cabbies out of work?
Mac: I’d rather be unemployed than dead.
Jordan: That can be arranged.

Mac: Lemme ask you something. Are you gonna take responsibility for the next person who dies in a cab?
[Jordan remains silent]
I didn’t think so.

Stella [answering phone]: Bonasera.
Hawkes: Wanna go on a field trip?

[Danny is examining a lipstick print]
Lindsay: Need help pickin’ the right shade?
Danny: Ha, ha, ha. That’s just it. Unless the makeup counter at Bloomie’s is sellin’ mood lipstick, the partial print we got from our vic’s mouth seems to have changed color.

[Danny and Flack are watching the cheerleader suspects give lipstick samples and then reapply]
Flack: Sexy. But dangerous.

Cabbie: You guys don’t find this whack job anytime soon, we’re all gonna be a bunch of relics.

Cabbie: But if you wanna go through all my files—
Stella: We will.

Stella: Catchin’ it from all sides, huh?
Mac: Let’s just say that between the media and the Mayor’s office I should be wearin’ a flak jacket right about now.

Stella: What is it you once said? ‘When the heat is on, you gotta wear more sunblock’?
Mac: I said that?
Stella: Mm-hmm.
Mac: I think I was just back from vacation. Prob’ly in a better mood.

Mac: All she [victim’s widow] asked me to do was stop this killer from hurting someone else. But in spite of all the heartache and bloodshed he’s causing, I could only offer an apology. Are we gonna get this guy?
Stella: We have to. We have to!

Hawkes: I’ll get this to tox. See if it’ll tell us how sick this sicko really is.

Lindsay: I dunno. A lotta big books with big words for a cheerleader.

Danny: I found her [suspect’s] secret garden, I can tell ya that much.

Lindsay: And the shot clock starts to tick.
Flack: Talk about a personal foul.

Reed: We don’t have time to be careful. We have a serial killer to catch.
Mac: No, Reed. I have a serial killer to catch! You just want a headline! But out of love and respect for your mother, I’ll give ya an exclusive. You ready? Watch who you mess with!
[Mac begins to walk away]
Reed: Is that a threat from you or the killer?
Mac: Both.

Danny [to perp]: So you chose to get back at Dugan by killing him?!
Flack: Crime of passion?
Lindsay: Crime of patience!

Cheerleader Perp: I worked my ass off. Literally.

Danny [to perp]: I hope it was worth it. Because you just kissed your life goodbye.

Lindsay [answering phone]: Hey.
Danny: Hey. Where are you?
Lindsay: I’m takin’ a rain walk. It’s a Montana thing—you wouldn’t understand.
Danny: Yeah, maybe I wouldn’t. Maybe there’s a lot of things I understand now—about that.
Lindsay: Yeah, like what?
Danny: How sorry I am for pushin’ you away?
Lindsay: Danny, I tried to give you your space. I don’t know how much longer I can feel alone. It’s messing with my work, it’s breaking my heart—
Danny: I know, I know, I do—I swear to God it won’t happen again. ‘Cause the truth is, truth is I miss you—I miss you more than I can say. Even if—uh—I don’t know how to say it.
Lindsay: Do you have any idea how hard you are to love?
Danny: Why don’t you come over here and tell me in person? Please?
Lindsay: I gotta go.

[Danny opens his door]
Rikki: Normally, neighbors ask for sugar. But I thought I’d be daring and offer some first.
Danny: Hey, Rikki.
Rikki: Mind if I come in?
Danny: Rikki, listen—I’ve been, uh, thinkin’ that this thing between us. . .you were right. We made each other feel good. But I’m startin’ to think that it’s bad. A bad thing for us to do.
Rikki: Danny, I’m moving.
Danny: You’re moving?
Rikki: I need a fresh start. Too many memories.
Danny: I—I’m, uh—
Rikki: No. Don’t say you’re sorry. Just say goodbye.
Danny: Goodbye.
Rikki: Goodbye.
Danny [with tears in his eyes]: Rikki, wait. [whispers] What about the sugar?
Rikki: You’re a sweet man. You keep it.

Mac: All right. Enough is enough. I want both of you, Danny, Lindsay, Adam, Sid—every last person in this lab on this. If we have to work double overtime and around the damn clock. As far as I’m concerned, every other case goes to the bottom of the pile until we track this cabbie killer down and permanently put him outta business!
Stella: Okay.

420, “Taxi”

Flack [getting out of car with perp still in the back seat]: Aw, he’s nasty! Makes prom night in the back of my father’s Caddy with Bianca DeFazio seem like it never happened.
Angell [laughing]: Back of your father’s Caddy?
Flack [to perp]: Come on, Roland. Time to make the donuts. [To Angell] It was either that or my Pontiac Sunbird. [To perp] Let’s go, pal.
[Perp shoves Flack into the street, Angell ducks punch from perp and kicks him in the chest. Cab comes flying down the street right at Flack]
Angell: Flack!
[Angell shoves Flack up and over the trunk of the car, getting him out of harm’s way]

Angell [holding out victim’s badge]: Don—Jersey City PD. You think it was him? Cabbie killer?
Flack: If it was he just upped his game. Son of a b*tch killed a cop.

Mac: Catch a license plate on the cab?
Flack: No. Didn’t have any tags.
Mac: How ‘bout the car? Make? Model? Year?
Flack: I don’t know. Maybe Ford.
Stella: Any dents or distinguishing marks?
Flack: He was goin’ too fast. I was running.
Mac: Come on, give me something. Anything.
Flack: Look, I know I sound like an idiot! It was a yellow cab! That’s all I got!
[Flack walks away]

Flack [to Danny]: I was this close. I coulda seen his [cab driver’s] face.

Danny [examining splotch of motor oil]: What the hell? Ants?! Are you guys crazy, eatin’ this stuff?!

Mac: Quinn! Seems Jersey City sent its finest.

Flack [to unis as they all walk into cab garage]: All right, boys—everything gets checked. If it makes ya look twice, I wanna see it.

Cabbie: Now what? You guys are here every other week!
Stella: Uh, there’s a killer out there and he happens to drive a cab?!

Flack: Care to explain that?
Cabbie: You’re the detective. That’s your job.
Flack: Yes, it is. And I plan on staying here while every cab is processed and every log book is checked. And, if I find out that either of you two are lyin’ to me, you’re gonna find out just how well I do my job.

Hawkes: What do we got, Montana?
Lindsay: Haven’t heard that in a while.
Hawkes: Just slipped out—sorry.
Lindsay: S’okay! I kind of miss it.

Quinn: So he didn’t murder Jimmy.
Mac: No. But there are three guys out there who want us to think he did.

Angell [to Danny and Flack]: Guys? This case just got a lot stranger.

Mac [to Reed]: This is not a game. An innocent man is dead.

Reed: You’re not blamin’ me for this guy’s death?!
Mac: I’m blamin’ you for puttin’ the target on his back.

Stella: How’d it go with Reed?
Mac: How d’you think it went?
Stella: Argh! I think you pushed! He got mad, and refused to give up his source, and one of you stormed off.
Mac: Well, if you’d told me that before, you coulda saved me the trip.

Mac [to Stella]: People are dying. I don’t have time for the ‘understanding’ approach.

Stella [to Mac]: Don’t let your pride get in the way.

Flack: Look, Artie! I’m not in a good mood here. A cop’s dead. Whoever killed him almost ran down me and my partner with a cab from your garage—the same cab you so smugly swore to me was not missing!

Mac: We can’t help him [Reed] if we can’t find him.

Mac: We’re running out of time, Lindsay.

Lindsay: He [Reed]’s pickin’ a funny time to get creative with his writing.

Mac: Reed! Hang in there, Reed! Don’t die on me!

Danny [peering in through window]: Innocent people died right in the back of this cab.

Danny: So we got a dead cop because he was in the wrong place at the wrong time.

Mac [to Reed]: I need to know what you remember. I know you can do this ‘cause you led us to him the first time.

Quinn: I knew someday there’d be an advantage to living in Jersey.

Flack [to cabbie killer]: Well, even the gods can’t help you now.

Mac [as voice-over]: The city was a hostage to fear. To panic. To turning against one another.

421, “Hostage”

Flack [beckoning released hostage]: Come on! Keep comin’ to me! Keep comin’ to me!

Mac [to bank robber]: You expect me to believe you didn’t kill him?

Flack: Here’s what I know: the employees were just showin’ up for work when our perp enters the bank, cowboy-style.

Stella: Where’s Mac?
Flack: With the body.
Stella: Oh, you gotta be kidding me.
Flack: This ain’t your everyday bank robbery, Stella.

Flack [as news cameraman runs up to bank doors]: What the hell is that idiot doin’?! Get him back here!

Mac: You got a name?
Bank Robber: Joe.
Mac: What’s your real name?
Joe: All you need to know is that it’s Joe.

Flack [to Stella, sarcastically]: Have I told you how much I love the media?

Jackson [to Stella]: Then tell Detective Taylor to work a little faster. He’s got two hours to process—then we gon’ start getting’ proactive! Aight?

Mac [noticing wedding ring on Joe’s finger]: How long you been married? I was married once. Nice to have someone who cares about you.
Joe: What, you think you’re gonna get into my head, Detective? Is that it?

Joe [via phone]: I can still see the media. I thought I told you to get ‘em outta here.
Flack: Look, we’re tryin’. But you and I both know this is the best game in town—and people wanna watch!
Joe: Well, let’s hope the kids aren’t watchin’ when I start tossin’ bodies in your direction.
Flack: Come on, pal—you don’t wanna do that.

Flack: Tell you want—you send a hostage out, I’ll bend some arms out here and get you what you want.

Hawkes [referencing Virtual Autopsy]: We’ll finally get to break in that new toy of yours.
Sid: Step into my lair.

Sid: Take a look at this.
Hawkes: Guy’s got more metal in him than a jewelry store.

Flack: Listen, whaddya want me to do about Jackson? He’s breathin’ down my neck about goin’ in!
Stella: Stall him.

Mac: What the hell is goin’ on here, Joe! You’re not tellin’ me everything.

Adam [looking at reflection in picture]: That’s our hostage taker! Mac’s tryin’ to help us ID the son of a b*tch!

Brett Dunbar: And you’re worried about him [Mac]?
Stella: I’m worried sick. Look, Brett, I need your help. No one knows weapons like you do.
Dunbar: So you got a victim with one entry wound but two bullets inside of him.
Stella: Basically, I’m looking for the impossible.
Dunbar: A murder weapon that can fire two rounds nearly instantaneously without any recoil.
Stella: Don’t tease me!
Dunbar: Follow me.

Stella [regarding Criss Super V]: Takes the kick right out of kickback.

Mac: Which could only mean one thing.
Danny: The bank was already robbed once today.
Mac: And the vic could be a casualty from that heist.
Danny: That makes your suspect one of the unluckiest mooks on the planet.

Stella: Flack? What is it?
Flack: This just turned into a doubleheader. One of my guys went over to the vic’s house to talk to his wife for the notification and found another body.

Mac [to Joe]: Then I’m done. Either you give me something I want or you can take these bullets across the street yourself.

Jackson [to Stella]: Time is not what you give to a hostage taker, Detective!

Adam: You think he put that [hair] there intentionally?
Hawkes: You ever known Mac to do anything unintentionally?

Stella [about Joe]: Nothing about this guy says he’s a pro.

Flack [via phone, to Joe]: No, no, no—no more threats! The power stays off until we get another hostage!

Mac [to Joe]: Don’t move! Don’t you move!

Flack: You sure about this [Mac exiting bank with Joe]?
Stella: Mac knows what he’s doing.

Mac: It’s gonna be fine, Doug. My team’s on it—they’re the best at what they do.

Mac [to “Doug’”/”Joe”]: It was all a lie, wasn’t it?