At 3:20 AM, meanwhile, is in bed upstairs at Dad's house, listening to her horrible jazz probably and finishing up her report on Operation Fatima Ali. That's not a time you should be up; in fact, it is called the Hour of the Wolf in my family, and what it means is that your ass should be at home in bed, dreaming of San Francisco Giants relief pitcher Brian Wilson and planning your baseball-themed gay wedding to him. Not writing about the fifteen times you nearly got your ass shot in the eye back in Beirut, not wearing a fake wedding ring and boning gross guys, none of that. Go to bed, Carrie. Go to bed, Carrie Mathison.
Dad: "Carrie, do you know the difference between what you're doing right now and what a crazy person would do?"
Carrie: "Yes, Dad!"
Dad: "Really? Because a crazy person would say that."
Carrie: "God, Dad! I'm just writing a CIA report. I just need like two more hours."
Dad: "One more hour. But seriously, how am I to know if this is actually important in a normal way, or important right this second because you are wired? There is no way for me to know that. And you acting like an exasperated child doesn't..."
Carrie: "My eyes light up the same way either way, Dad. I'm okay. In fact, I feel pretty great! Pretty grrrrrreat!"
Dad: "See, that's the kind of thing I'm talking about."
Carrie: "...Ah. Gotcha. Point taken."
Jessica finds a speech Nick is writing for her veteran fundraiser thing, and -- one hand literally clutching at pearls -- proceeds to read it. Because he is a man who does not speak, really, she's surprised by what she reads. Less so than we are, because we know him better than she does and we don't even know him that well, but it's still pretty effective.
By my third year in captivity, I knew that this was where I was gonna die, that I had to accept that, make peace with it, so that's what I did. I prepared to die... But I didn't die. Somehow I got to come home to a wife and two kids I'd talked myself into believing would be just fine -- no, better off -- without me. I mean, how could they really know me anymore?
It's entirely the acting, as usual, that sells the sexy sex that proceeds from this point. Not really recappable, except to note that Jessica hasn't ever stopped trying to welcome him home, and that his body is a strange diplomat from a foreign country that neither of them actually speak the language of, and it's always saying multiple things at the same time, and that's confusing, and scary, and there's a lot of hurry-up-and-wait and there's a lot of ow-you're-leaning-on-my-hair and basically watching them even get to first base is tremendously uncomfortable. So that happens, and then it's interrupted by Dana and that Xander kid coming home, and it's either a trick of the light or I am like the grossest person, or else -- and I'm pretty sure it's this last one -- we do the rest of the scene in the presence of Nick Brody's confused and dismayed, yet still hopeful, erect penis.