Casa Solis. Gabrielle pretends to sleep as Carlos walks in the bedroom. "I know you're awake," he says. "I know you're a jerk," she retorts. Carlos claims that his business dinner ran long. Gabrielle sits up and informs him that she didn't marry him to have dinner alone six times a week. "Do you know how bored I was today? I came this close to actually cleaning the house." Carlos kind of grins and tells her not to be that way. "I got you a gift," he says. If he's so busy with work, how does he have time to shop? ["His assistant shops, probably." -- Sars] Gabrielle turns her back on him and tells him that he's not going to buy her again. He hands her a long red box. "It's a good gift," he cajoles. Gabrielle opens it. "Is that white gold?" she asks. "Yeah. Put it on. And then make love to me," he directs, kissing her on her shoulder. As a sidebar: Her lavender nightie is fab! Gabrielle sniffs that she's totally not in the mood for nookie. Also, she just got laid. "But we could stay up and talk," she suggests. Carlos chuckles that he didn't want conversation in return for his gift. Gabrielle sighs and flings the box at him. "Hey, that was a joke!" he protests. "Yeah, right," she pouts. Carlos furrows his brow and wonders what the hell is wrong with her. "You've been acting like a nightmare for a month," he says. "What's wrong? I can't fix it unless you tell me." Gabrielle appears to see his point. As do I, I must say. Communication is key, kids. "It's not exciting anymore, Carlos," she says. She wishes their relationship would be the way it used to be. "Surprise me," she asks. "Take my breath away." Carlos looks at her for a long time. "Okay," he says. Aw. I kind of feel for Carlos. He was sort of a jackhole last week, but if she's unhappy, she needs to tell him that.
Morning. Susan, schlubby in her bathrobe, stumbles out the front door with her trash. She yawns and dumps it into the can. "Hey Susan," Mike calls over the fence. Susan freezes. "Mike!" she says, into the trash can. "What's wrong?" he asks. "I look like shit," she thinks, but just tells him that she didn't realize anyone was outside, and that she just rolled out of bed. "I'm sure you look fine," he says. "Oooooh," Susan moans in a way that clearly expresses, "You haven't seen my face yet." She finally turns, though, and faces him and his dog, Bongo, who promptly barks and growls and goes apeshit. Mike hushes the dog and apologizes, and tells her he'll see her later. "Do you want to have dinner with me?" she bursts out, like she just can't hold it in any longer. "Just the two of us?" he asks. "And Julie! It's a thing we do when someone moves into the neighborhood," Susan improvises. "We invite them over for a home-cooked meal. Sort of a tradition." Mike furrows his brow and says that she told him she was a lousy cook. Susan clarifies that she orders take-out. For the meal. And then serves it. In her home. So it's sort of home-served rather than cooked. Mike teases her for claiming to have people over for home cooking when she's ordering in, but agrees to the meal. "How about I cook? And you guys come over to my place?" he offers. Susan is thrilled. She giggles and agrees and turns to go inside. "Bye, Bongo," she tells the dog. Bongo barks aggressively.