Hurting is half the fun. You want to know what's more fun? The other half.

Myka

Myka: Is there anything you don't play with?
Pete: Umm... no.

Myka: Having intel in the field keeps an agent alive, Pete. But Artie acts like keeping us alive is not a priority. To him we're just...
Pete: Redshirts?
Myka: Yeah.
Pete: Okay. First, he doesn't think we're redshirts. And second, that's so cool you knew what I meant.

Artie: Shouldn't you be in college or something? Don't you want to be with people your own age?
Claudia: Artie, I'm not my own age.

Pete: Use your feminine wiles. Smile. You're pretty when you smile.
Myka: I am?
Pete: Yeah.
Myka: So what does that mean when I'm not smiling?
Pete: Kind of frightening.

Myka: Hey, partner. How are you feeling?
Pete: Sore. Everywhere. Need cookies.

Claudia: Check.
Artie: I'll be damned.
Claudia: Well, maybe, but I'm not one to judge.

Leena: She needs people like her.
Artie: Brash, rude, anti-social, impulsive?
Leena: We're discussing Claudia, not you.
Artie: See, that's kind of a low blow.

Pete: How can you tell them apart?
Weaver: You're a trained expert with a scrupulous eye for detail. Or you read the brass plaque on the base.

Claudia: It's okay if I don't like you, right?
Leena: Of course. But you do.

Myka: She's out of your league.
Pete: How do you know what my league is?
Myka: Not that I asked for them, but I've got season tickets.
Pete: That's good, I like that.

Myka: But it's still just a well-executed art theft. I mean, it doesn't automatically shout "warehouse," does it.
Artie: Things rarely shout "warehouse." They usually whisper, "Hey, that's a little odd."