As Abby offloads him onto a bed, she notices a knife scar on Ricky's back. "Where'd you get that one?" she asks, curious. "Some lowlife stuck me in the back with a switchblade," Ricky says. Luka digests this as if he just heard the pot bitching about how black makes the kettle look fat. "An inch to the left and you'd have lost a kidney," Luka points out tightly. "You should see who did it to me -- he got snuffed with a sawed-off," cackles Ricky. "Dude was bite-sized!" Abby cocks her head. "That's funny?" she says. Ricky swallows his mirth. "Whatever, bitch," he mutters. Luka's nostrils flare like sexy flaps of love. What? They do. "Hey, watch your mouth," he booms. Abby shoots him an intrigued look, which he meets with one of almost guilty esteem, as if he knows he's not the guy in her life, but he can't help wanting to protect her. God knows I don't think Luka and Abby are the ideal couple, but this episode has carried the first clear signs in a while that, for the moment at least, Luka is carrying some kind of affection for Abby, however deep or shallow it may be. So I appreciate this moment of clarity in the sinkhole that is the Bermuda Triangle. Ricky impatiently asks whether they're almost finished dressing his wound. "Why? In a hurry to go to jail?" Luka sneers. Abby interrupts this moment of masculinity to ask if Ricky wants her to check on Alma in recovery. "She's probably okay, then," Ricky interprets. "No, she could wind up paralyzed," Luka says. Ricky stares at the bed sheet. "All over, or just her legs?" he asks. "They're not sure yet," Abby says. Ricky leans back against the pillow and ganstas that Alma should've just gone ahead and died, then. This is true love. Luka snaps. "An hour ago you were ready to get revenge," he barks. "That's personal -- it's about my name, honor," Ricky argues. "But, she's paralyzed. That blows." He shrugs. Luka storms off in a huff.
Abby chases Luka into the hallway. "Piece of work, huh?" she smirks. Luka, still smoldering, nods and exhales. "And she's pregnant," Abby says, in a tone that's rather appallingly tinged with amusement. Brat. "Says it's his baby," she adds. "You want to tell him?" Luka shakes his head. "You?" he asks. "Not really," she says, her slight grin still in place. They swap smiles. What? They're cheering each other up by talking about this paralyzed girl's child and its murderous father? Okay, kids. Have fun. Don't stay out past curfew.
Gallant enters Stella's room, and they swap introductions. Yay! Stella is Chem Glass. I'm so glad she's back after her one-liner last week. I always liked Diane Delano. She's all made up with long hair, as opposed to her harsh Bio/Chem Glass look in Popular. I'm going to start calling her Chem, since that's what I called her last week. Gallant starts running through a symptom checklist -- recent weight gain, dehydration, both of which she has -- until Chem snatches it to make his job quicker. "Intolerance to cold? Yes," she checks it off. "Arthritis, sore muscles, constipation? Yes, yes, YES." Gallant politely rescues his list and asks whether she's been fatigued. She nods. "What about depression?" he asks. "No, I'm a glass half-full, silver-lining girl. I'm an optimist," she says too brightly. Gallant nods and starts to leave. "Um," she revises. "I guess I do get a little blue sometimes." She shoots him an endearingly pathetic look, and he digests this.