Julie ding-dong-ding-dong-dings the door at Edie's house, and Austin comes out wearing nothing but boxers, beer in hand. Edie's out for the night. Julie makes a show of her exasperation that Austin is the only person in the whole neighborhood who seems to be home. They banter back and forth -- her snobby about how he couldn't possibly understand her problem, which is very science-y; him condescending about her immense science dorktastic-ness -- until it's revealed that Austin actually knows a little something about electricity. Yes, he's good with his hands; you recall that the man-boy tinkers with motorbikes, so he does possess demonstrated mechanical abilities. Julie agrees to allow him to help her, and he smiles and tells her he'll just go "grab a flashlight." Julie, embarrassed and irritated and attracted all at once: "Maybe you could also grab a shirt...and some pants."

Susan is lying in bed, awake, in the dark, wearing a cute pair of men's PJs. Ian knocks on the door. Susan: "I'm with a client, take a number." Funny! He confesses that he's sorry, and that he's just insecure. She says she can't stay mad at that "English accent," blah blah, and they start getting all romantical again. Susan breaks up the huddle to make a little speech -- always a great idea, I've found, especially if you're someone like Susan, who has an unerring ability to say the exact wrong things at the wrong times...even at the right times -- about how she knows she's only his "second lover," ugh, which she knows "means a lot," but that she hopes it isn't too, too, too significant? Ian, jokingly: "I assure you, I'm as capable of having meaningless sex as you are." The "Look Who's Not Getting Any Tonight" music thrums, and Susan reverts back to mad mode: "Don't judge me, Mr. Virgin Plus One!" Whee! Ian tries to sway her with some British-isms -- "Cheerio" and "Bob's your uncle" -- but this bird, she's no longer up for a snog.

Down at the Fairview soup kitchen, Bree is showing Andrew's photo around. Andrew, who is at the front of the food line, hears her voice and tries to make a break for it. But rather than skirt the room and slip out behind her, for some reason (bad direction? or maybe a secret desire to meet up with Bree?), he just pulls his hood down and walks straight for her. As he passes Bree, she (of course) recognizes him. She grabs him and cries out with relief, and then keens over the bruise he has on his face. He tells her that it's "none of [her] business," and then pointedly asks why she isn't "home taking care of [her] new husband." Yeah, he saw the wedding announcement in a paper he was huddling under it to stay warm. Bree apologizes; she knows that what she did was monstrous, but she's his mother, et cetera! Andrew: "You dumped your son at a gas station seven months ago. I'm somebody else now." Well, exactly. And yet, the things Andrew did to Bree were also terrible. And yet, and yet: her sudden burst of caring about Andrew is so profoundly maddening! Not that a person can't have regrets, but the fact that she flipped so abruptly makes it very hard to be sympathetic. I know that I keep harping on this, but...the last time we saw Andrew, Bree hated him enough to strand him with very little money, no inheritance, and no family connections, and now suddenly she's frantically searching under every tranny's skirt for him? I don't buy it. Maybe if we had seen just a hair of slowly mounting regret -- like having Bree run into Justin and discover that Andrew's gone missing or something, because hello, where's Justin in all this? -- that might have helped to get me somewhat on board with this. But whatever; Andrew and Bree are both pretty unredeemable in this scenario, so maybe they'll get to the point where their bad deeds just cancel each other out, giving them a fresh start. Moving right along: Andrew runs out into traffic, and Bree stands on the sidewalk, screaming, "Andrew, PLEASE!" as he scampers off into the night.