Michael joins his mom out on the landing, careful not to open the door too widely. And for someone who claims to be in a hurry to meet Fi, he's sure taking his time getting down those stairs. Not that I can blame him. Madeline follows him with an apple pie she claims to have baked ("Okay, I sprinkled cinnamon on it," she admits), suggesting Michael share it with Sam...and Virgil. Michael insists that he hasn't heard from Virgil, but Madeline's not buying. Still, rather than storm back up the stairs and into the loft, she shoves the pie at Michael and stomps off in a snit. "Okay, I'll call you later!" Michael chirps after her once he has established that his shirt is safe.
Apparently Michael actually was going to meet Fi, as the two of them now walk up the driveway of a palatial home. Fi gives him a hard time about why he's trying to keep Virgil away from his mom. "When an important woman in your life meets someone, it can be an adjustment," she headshrinks. Michael sees right through her: "Is this about your date?" he asks blandly. "Because I'm fine with it." Fi doesn't bother denying that was her point, and goes right into accusing Michael of being out of his tree over it, as evidenced by the complete lack of interest he's shown in the topic up until now. Yes, that makes perfect sense to me. Finally, they reach the front door. Michael rings the bell -- which is an actual, literal bell -- and Seymour's bodyguard Jackass lets them in.
In the backyard overlooking the water, they find Seymour hosting a pool-and-gun-packing-party already in progress. He stops pretending to do tai chi so he can order Jackass to make his new guests some fruit smoothies, adding, "That's all he's good for." Must be why Jackass never gets a line. Seymour tells Michael that the "Ukrainian" gun buyer paid up, and tosses Michael a roll of bills that's his "cut." Michael impatiently flings it back, snapping, "Seymour, we don't work together!" And besides, Michael is allergic to cash, and risks anaphylactic shock if any of it ever touches him. That's my new theory, anyway. Michael explains to Seymour again that he just wants to know where someone can get a Dragunov serviced. Seymour agrees to make some calls, and is crushed when Michael leaves without even tasting the fruit smoothie that Seymour thought was going to make him and Michael best buddies.
Back at the biker bar, Sam-as-Finley buys Gerard a drink and offers him a job. Gerard says he doesn't do work for hire, so Sam calls it a partnership having to do with "designer performance enhancers... steroids on steroids." Sam says he knows about a lab that makes the stuff, a $2 million shipment is going out on a yacht soon, and he wants Gerard to take it. "You'd get a third. How does that sound?" Gerard says it sounds like work for hire, whereas half would be more like a partnership. Sam thinks about whether he can afford to give Gerard fifty percent of a heist that isn't actually going to happen. After a minute of mental number-crunching, he decides he can, and they drink to it. Sam says that Gerard is going to need to "bring in a pro to keep the drugs at the right temperature and humidity." Fortunately, Sam knows just the guy, a former meth-chef named Jackson who works at the lab. Gerard just needs to convince Jackson to help out, since Sam isn't about to do it: "In my line of work, you stay in the shadows so the name 'Finley' is never mentioned," Sam says. Unless, you know, it's an episode where Sam is undercover.