D.C.
Justice

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What price, justice?

Lewis is banging things around their room as he tries to do work. "Let me help," Sarah says, and when he pauses she says, "I went to college, I can work a highlighter." Lewis gives her instructions on what she should be highlighting. After a bit he asks how angry everyone is. "Very," Sarah replies. "I didn't mean for it to get like that, I was just blowing off steam," Lewis tells her. "I know that, but they don't. They don't know how to read you because you've never opened up to them," Sarah tells him. They don't know how to read him because he's a Vulcan and Vulcans don't show emotion. "I'm sorry but I work seventy to eighty hours a week!" Lewis says defensively. "Yes, you do. How are you going to handle Tyrrell's casework on top of that?" Sarah asks. "I'll find a way," Lewis tells her. Sarah's not so sure: "Lewis, when you were studying for the bar, you decided to keep a full-time job and work at the clinic. You said, 'I'll find a way.' You found a way not to sleep for three weeks, you found a way to get mono. I had to have you hospitalized, Lewis, because you collapsed on the stairs. Now, I know this is your family, but I like to believe I'm your family too and I'm not going to stand by and watch you hurt yourself. Do you believe Tyrrell?" Sarah asks after painting Lewis as a complete workaholic. "Do I believe his story? No, he's not telling me everything. Do I believe he's a good person? Absolutely, and that's what I have to protect," Lewis tells her.

Nice clear shot of Dupont Circle and Embassy Row and Finley dragging the garbage cans into the street. Dr. Keppler creeps from the bushes. "Are you the sister?" he asks her. "I guess," she answers. "I'm Dr. Keppler," he tells her, "I talked to your brother yesterday." "That's right, he said," Finley responds. "Listen, we need to have a conversation about what's happening with your house here," Dr. Keppler says. "Really," Finley says warily. "I know there's more than just you and your brother living here, I've been counting heads, so far I'm up to five," Dr. Keppler tells her, approaching slowly. "Well, we have people visiting --" Finley starts to say. "If the Sorrensons knew you have five people living here, you'd be out on the street," Dr. Keppler says. "I don't see how that's any of your business," Finley says walking away from him. Dr. Keppler follows her, acting more and more like Chester the Molester, and says, "Look, it's not difficult for me to call the Sorrensons and tell them what's going on here. As their neighbor, I'd feel as though it was my duty --" Finley spins around, "If you take one more step towards me, I'll scream!" Dr. Chester the Molester steps back. "What do you want?" Finley asks him. "A monthly contribution to the good neighbor fund. Say a thousand dollars in exchange for my silence," Dr. Chester the Molester says. "That's blackmail," Finley tells him. "Think of it as rent. Talk to your roommates and let me know tonight. And make sure you get your trash cans off the street by 10 AM," Dr. Chester the Molester says and walks away. Sheesh, he's really obsessive about that trash can thing.

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D.C.

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