Meanwhile, in another part of the lab, Mia's interrupting Sara as she gazes intently into the microscope. Mia tells Sara, "Wendy's mouth had two foreign DNA donors -- one seminal, one saliva. Neither was a match to Officer Mann." Officer Mann? Why not just name him Tip I. Calmale and have done with it? Sara's all, "Huh?" Mia checks out the ring and comments, "Wow. That is some rock. Platinum setting. Princess cut. Somebody really loved her -- er, him?" Sara says, "I think she's a her." Well, on one level, yes. On the chromosomal level, not so much. That was one of my favorite details in Y: The Last Man -- how, after this plague that wipes out everything with a Y chromosome on the planet save for a man and his monkey, the female-to-male transsexuals became incredibly in-demand by some surviving women. But I digress. Mia says, "A diamond that big, you hope she had it lo-jacked." Sara's counting on that; she just found the serial number NW-583. Apropos of nothing, Mia recounts a story about a man who became a woman because he was enamored of a lesbian...who was actually a male-to-female transsexual. This is a handy way to prime us all into thinking that just maybe, Mia's story will be relevant later. That, or it's here to show how Mia and Sara are awkwardly bonding, as Mia chortles and Sara gives her a really baffled look. Mia retreats with, "Overshare." In a lab where Liam's cherry-popping is apparently up for discussion, I find it hard to believe a story about the vagaries of the human heart crosses the line.
Cut to Wendy's shocked fiancé numbly rattling off details about Wendy's dress. Gil's about as interested in this as you might expect. He's checking out the kazillion pictures of the happy couple. The fiancé --who sounds disturbingly like Buster from Arrested Development, so now I'm having Lucille Austero flashbacks which, when compounded with Liza Minnelli's long history of gender-bending association, from former costar Joel Grey's turn as The Emcee to former husband David Gest's turn as...a really creepy bipedal hominid, are creating the kind of pop cultural tesseract that might spawn another Sontag essay on camp. And then the recap would just totally go off the rails. So let's move on from the fiancé for a moment, and on to Brass, who looks like he's dying to ask the guy, "So, like, when did you first find out your fiancée had a thingie?" Gil is a lot more circumspect: "Mr. Laner, how long had Wendy been a dancer? And by 'dancer,' I mean 'woman'?" He only thinks this second part. Laner stammers, "Two or three years in the line. Never topless. In her costume, she was a vision." Brass tamps down his ruder impulses and asks how long Laner and Wendy had known each other. It's been about a year. The two met in a grief support group: Laner was a widower. Gil says, "Sorry for your loss." Which one? We then find out Wendy was grieving for a twin brother. Brass asks, "Would that be Walter?" Why, yes. A touchingly naïve Laner asks, "Did you know him?" "Sort of," Brass deadpans.
Sara's poking around the house. When she wanders into the bedroom, she notes two twin beds -- one with very feminine pillows and one with very masculine pillows. Wendy and Laner's, we presume. This reminds me of my grandparents, who eventually settled on twin beds, because the first 30 years of covers-stealing and nighttime calisthenics were 29 years too many for them. So I tend to think this is sweet, and not odd like Sara does. I mean, you want odd, try a set-up where it's obvious one's sacking out in a big, luxurious bed while the other's forced to share a sheepskin mat with Fido.