Joan's looking through a family photo album out in the garage. She picks up picture of Helen from a long time ago, with stringy hair and an ugly sweater, but that same beautiful smile. Then she holds one of Will, in his cop uniform, hair looking about a half inch long under his hat, probably the day he became a cop. As she studies them, thinking about how she got to be who she is, Judith suddenly pops up behind her and says, "Now you're getting warm, JoJo. A cop, and an artist. An avenger, and a visionary. What kind of kid did you think they'd have?" Joan: "Okay, can you stop showing up like that? I mean, I miss you, but…it freaks me out, because none of my other friends are dead." Judith's wearing the same outfit as before, which…man, if I have to wear the same outfit for eternity, I'm going to need to do some serious thinking about that. Pyjamas would be good for comfort, but who wants to slop around in pyjamas until the Day of Reckoning? Mental note: Do not die in spike heels. Judith: "Losers." Joan: "So it's meant to be? It's some kind of calling?" Judith: "Circumstances conspire. Energies converge, into powerful new forces. That's where you come in." She suddenly says, "You have to go," and walks out through the boat (which seems to me coming along nicely) and then the garage door. Frink wants them to stop with the Star Trek effects already. ["I agree. I thought it made it less creepy, and I'm generally in favor of more creep." -- Sars] Joan sits there, wondering what it all means.
In the house, Helen's fallen asleep by the fire. She's having another dream/nightmare. She sees herself in that pale pink gown again. She's outside somewhere, in a park, at night, twirling around slowly. Frink: "Okay, I hate absolutely anything that involves this kind of dancing." I tell him to simmer down, because it's just a dream. There's an overhead shot of Helen twirling as all around her, in a circle, sprinklers suddenly come on. The sound effect is tricky, because it sounds both like water and like crackling flame. Or maybe I just have an overactive imagination. She holds out her arms and basks in the fine showers of water that are soaking her. Smiling, she calls out to someone, "Come on in." We see Grace sitting on a park bench. Grace smiles back, but says she can't, almost bashfully. Helen: "Why not?" Grace, still smiling: "It's on fire." Helen: "No, it's only water!" Suddenly the sprinklers are shooting out fireworks and smoke instead of water; then those die down quickly, and are followed shortly by flames shooting up. She turns around nervously in her burning ring of fire, not nearly as freaked as I would be. As the flames get higher and higher, she looks at Grace, who stares back at her, looking dead serious but not panicky.