Carrie: "Yeah, to put a wineglass in his window or something, and then they go to ground."
Quinn: "Because you 'saw it in his eyes'?"
Carrie: "Have you not seen this fucking show? That is the entire show in one sentence!"
Quinn: "So this would be the Crazy Carrie Moment they warned me about. Get your ass back to the..."
...Just an empty barstool, spinning. Papers floating down in the air. Mathison out.
You can see Nick have the same fight with himself, without saying a word. In the action of his hands, as he drinks a Fiji water and sits on the bed, the labored breath and his eyebrows, as he wonders whether or not to put that wineglass up. She went away, and he went away, and by the time they came back, she knew. He spots her through the peephole, and nearly speaks aloud to them. To all the Nicks.
They clear so many steps of what has to be cleared, without speaking at all: He asks why she's there, in his doorway, smiling, and she admits she's being silly. She asks if he can come in, and he agrees. Though it's against both of their interests, he agrees. In silence.
Carrie: "Are you sure this wasn't a booty call? You really emphasized your room number down there. Unless of course you were simply saying it to pay for our drinks, like it happens in every hotel bar in the history of our world. Or both."
Nick: "Maybe both. Maybe to get you alone? Is what you're thinking. Maybe I am too."
But his smile is too wide, and his eyes are too bright. She didn't go up there because she's crazy, she went up there because you don't need optimism when you're right. When you have your conviction you don't need options anymore. But paranoia is a way of life for Nick, and Carrie knows for sure that they're under surveillance. More Nicks, and more Carries, then ever. It nearly, it very nearly stopped mattering how full the bar was, for a moment. He knew just how to hurt her. Nicholas reached in past Carrie's army and into her armor and gave it a twist. For a second she could see life without all those Carries and Nicks in the way, without all that hateful love and tender hate and twisted hope and tainted doubt, and it felt like the world ending. It felt like watching it burn.
She loved it.
The end of disappointment. He grins, shining every bit as electrically as she does in her worst moments, and her smile clatters to the floor. For a moment, for this moment, for the time necessary, she can hate him. She always has.