Will comes into Lucyfer's office to thank her for the golf game yesterday: "My kid had a great time humiliating his old man." Lucyfer, whose hair is pinned up and looks a heckuva a lot better, chuckles and replies, "And we got to play hooky. I told 'em I was at the doctor's." Will confesses he claimed he had a meeting with an assistant DA: "We're bad." I feel sick. I'm sure it's nothing, though. Probably some bad chicken. Lucyfer: "And I was thinkin' how good we were." Yes, it's probably the chicken. Will refers to a trooper-style hat on her desk and asks if they're going to make her wear it. Lucyfer: "They wanted me in the whole getup: the holster, the badge…the decoder ring. But…all contracts are negotiable, and I didn't want to let my job get in the way of my vanity." Will asks, "Could I see?" She obliges. She looks ridiculous, and she clearly knows it. Will: "Good call, boss." He shuts the door, finally, and asks her about the attorney she mentioned. Lucyfer: "Chuck Kroner? I don't want to get in the middle of your business…" I snort loudly. It's a little late for that, isn't it, lady? She says if he likes his attorney he should stay with them. Will would like to use her name. I guess this Kroner guy gives the Beelzebub discount. She scribbles his number quickly and brings it over to Will: "Tell him I said hi. So sorry you have to go through all this crap. You don't deserve it." Will shrugs it off, saying, "I just wish in the middle of all this, something felt right." She replies, "It's war." She puts her hand on his and squeezes it slightly: "And that should never feel right." Will thanks her and leaves. Will, you're already married to a gorgeous Southern belle. You don't need this one. She has a tail, for god's sake. Sure, you'd save a lot on heating bills, but…wise up, buddy.
Joan's in the computer lab, looking grim and teary as she watches the tape of Adam and Judith over and over again, turning up the speakers to try to hear something, but she can't make anything out. Frink, noting the quality of the flat-screen monitors and so forth: "This is a very well-off school they have." I'll bet she wishes God had given her a lip-reading assignment amongst her many "idiot projects."
Girardi house that night. Helen's listening to Peter Frampton: "Show Me The Way." She fishes out a picture of her and Jeremy back in the day. Okay, I don't know who that is, but he's seriously cute, even with the big lapels and the vest and the 1970s hair. Cuter than Will. Sorry. I just call 'em like I see 'em. Helen smiles at the picture as she barely moves her lips along to the words of the song. Then she looks troubled. Joan comes into the room next to her to watch TV. She's got her video camera with her. Helen says something about needing to clean out that cupboard. Joan: "Yeah. Your junk. Not helping." Helen says she thought Joan would be out with Adam and Judith. Joan: "Can I spend a little bit of quality time by myself? Do I have to be around a million people all the time?" Helen, sensing a teenage mood: "No. Are -- are you okay?" Joan responds impatiently: "Are you? Listening to Peter Frampton? That's kinda pathetic." She picks up the album cover. Hey! I thought the Girardis didn't have a turntable. "According to Behind the Music, his career took a nosedive in 1978." Girl sure watches a lot of BtM. Helen says she was just cleaning out some junk. Joan examines Frampton Comes Alive! and sighs, "You must have been so young then." Helen lets that pass. "Bet you couldn't wait to grow up, huh?" Helen agrees weakly.