In the prison visiting room, Gabby is trying to smooth things over with Carlos. Gabby: "How was I supposed to know that [the LLB] would take a bullet and suddenly be in love with me?" Carlos just sighs and looks bored. Gabby says that she knows she was the one who made Carlos hire the LLB, but she promises that she'll do anything within her power to "fix this." Carlos: "All right. Go have sex with Bradley." Gabby: "What!?" Carlos: "Well, that's what you want me to say, isn't it?" Carlos chuckles woefully and comments on what a great job Gabby and the LLB did, setting him up. Gabby is incredulous. Carlos: "Let's see. The guy tells me to my face he wants to get in your pants, quits a week before my trial, and now you can't wait to do anything to get him back?" I'm kind of confused. I got the impression that when Gabby said she'd do anything to "fix this," she was talking about hiring yet another lawyer, and not convincing the LLB to stay on the case, so to speak. Whatevskis! Carlos stands and tells the guards he'd like to "go back to jail now." Gabby: "How dare you think that of me. I have been nothing but faithful to you...since you've been in here." Ha! Carlos tells her to "save it" -- that he knows when he's "been outfoxed" -- but that Gabby shouldn't pretend she's doing all this for him, because he'd rather rot in jail. Gabby says that a lesser woman would let him rot there, but she won't give him the satisfaction: "So you better start packing up your shanks, or whatever you people make in here, because you're coming home with me." Gabby storms out, and the guard comes up behind Carlos. Carlos sighs and defeatedly tells the guard, "I don't have any shanks," like, clearly Carlos knows he's in for some major strip-searching.
Over at the check-in counter of a fancy hotel, Bree has her hair down and is wearing a lovely belted light-weight camel coat, a pastel flowered silk scarf, pearls, and a cable-knit coral-pink sweater, the edges of which you can see peeking out behind the scarf. Welcome back, Bree! Welcome back. George and Bree are checking in, and as the hotelier processes their paperwork, George asks Bree what she'd like to do first. Her answer -- "antiquing" -- clearly isn't the one he was hoping for. (Unless...that's some terrible new term for some terrible...old...sex act?) The hotelier directs Bree over to the brochure area, calling her "Mrs. Williams," which George immediately corrects. The hotelier says, with odd emphasis, that he is "so sorry [to hear that Bree is not married to George]!" Slowly, Bree's smile starts to fade, and the wacky "I'm got an itch, and not in a sexy way" Housewives music swells. The hives! They're back! George says something about the terrific farmer's market they have there, and how they should "pick up some nectarines," which is weirdly funny, and then he notices Bree's itching. Bree pulls him aside and frantically tells him she can't stay there with him: the rash is back! He reminds her about the antihistamines he brought, and the three hours they just drove, but she still says she wants to go home, because clearly the rash is psychosomatic, and nothing they can do will help. The hotelier asks if there's a problem. A flustered George quickly says that there's no problem as he scratches Bree's neck and she blows down the front of her sweater. Ha ha! George volunteers to get Bree her own room, and keep the trip platonic -- they can just shift the focus of the trip to...antiquing (eww!). Bree says that she knows he didn't come there to "shop," but he rather nicely assures her that he came there to spend time with her, and that time doesn't have to be in bed. Yeah, right! Bree is very happy, and immediately starts talking about the "tons" of fun things they can do that don't involve sex. George: "You betcha!" He turns to take care of the paperwork for the additional room, and Bree delightfully calls out to him that her rash? Is magically gone. George looks less than pleased.