Meanwhile, Skyler's at home with baby Holly, looking up "money laundering" on Wikipedia. Not exactly the most original gag ever, but it got a chuckle out of me. She shuts the laptop down once she hears the guys pull into the driveway. Flynn confirms that Walt will pick him up for his driver's test on Saturday morning. Yeah, in light of events to come later, my guess is Walt's a smidge late for that appointment. Skyler crosses paths with Flynn in the driveway and stays out to talk to Walt. She wants to talk about the arrangement they discussed for the car wash, but Walt says he's dead set against it. Skyler once again makes the argument that the car wash story makes sense. Walt comes at it from a different angle: if he's ever caught, he wants Skyler to have had nothing to do with it, thus giving her a plausible deniability. Skyler's not sure how plausible the deniability is when your husband starts dropping sacks of cash on the doorstep after going on disability from the public school. "I'd rather have [the police] think I'm Bonnie what'shername than a complete idiot." I love lines like that, which capture the line these characters are straddling between moral sketchiness and suburban naivete. The camera keeps cutting back to these long shots, too, where Skyler and Walt (and their respective cars) are on either side of some invisible line in the driveway. That's the way it stands right now, Walt on one side of the line and Skyler on the other. But for how long? Then, Walt crosses over to Skyler's side of the line, and you know he's making his play. He asks why, in this storytelling scenario of hers, her estranged husband would be putting her in charge of his car wash business. Skyler, ever the storyteller lately, says Walt would "try anything" to seek a reconciliation with his family, futile though those attempts may be. But Walt's angling to end the estrangement as condition of letting Skyler into the plan. Skyler balks. Walt renegotiates. They bargain things down to four dinners a week, and Walt gets a key to the house. "That," Walt says, "is how we'll sell your little fiction."

America's Meth Kitchen. Jesse's flushing out a vat or something (this show has taught me a lot about how to cook my own meth, but not everything yet). Looks like he and Walt are finishing up. He asks Walt if he'd like to go out and get a beer tonight. Walt obviously begs off, forcing Jesse to be a lot less subtle about his invitation. "Seriously. Have a beer with me." He directs his eyes to the ceiling and the invisible recording devices couched therein. Walt gets it.