Joan comes to Adam's shed. She finds him working on the laptop; he wants her to check out a funky font called Buddha Bold. Joan says she has to take the computer back. Adam: "Sure. I'll just work on my stuff later." She tells him there isn't really going to be any "later." He closes the lid and asks, "Jane, what's going on?" Joan: "I am so sorry, Adam." He suddenly points at her and says, "Your stomach…it's leaking." She looks down and says, "Oh, yeah. I got my belly pierced, only it's infected, and if I take the bandage off, then my belly button will come out with it." Girl has an even worse grasp of biology than she does of ethics. Adam looks both intrigued and concerned: "Are you okay?" Joan puts her hands to her head: "No. No. I hate -- hate -- economics." She confesses she bought his computer with clothing she stole from the drive. Adam's mouth is hanging open as she claims, "I thought I was doing good, but I got all caught up, and then it was, like, this interstate crime spree, except…well, I stayed here." Adam's quite incredulous: "You stole from the homeless?" Joan: "Yes. I am a horrible human being." Adam makes me love him even more: "Yeah." He barely laughs.
Joan: "Well, you weren't supposed to say that!" Adam: "Jane, you…you stole from the homeless." Joan: "O-kay! I think we've established that!" You really are not in a position to be snappish, missy. She claims not to know how things "got so nuts," and says she wanted to help him: "You have school and you go to work and you have to take care of your dad and we miss each other." He gets up and walks over to her and puts his hands on her arms: "Jane. Jane, look." Joan, tearful: "Just don't say anything perfect, okay? I can't take it right now." Adam: "We already have so much. I mean, sometimes more than we need." Way not to be perfect, Adam. Joan sighs, "Just don't." She shakes her head and says softly, "Don't." She walks over and collects the laptop -- hey, maybe he'd like to copy that file he was working on to a disk? -- and walks out.
Girardi house. Helen asks Will how they went from a countersuit to blackmail. Kevin's right behind them as they sit down on the couch. Will says it's not blackmail. Helen: "You said we could get represented on a contingency basis, not have to lay out any money." Will agrees, but says that if the jury decides against them, they'd have to pay the Bakers' legal fees, too: "This is our safest option." Kevin: "Since when is going nuclear safe?" Will: "They'd do it to us." Helen: "So you want us to go from being them, to making them look virtuous? This isn't like you, Will. How'd you even get this information?" Will's defensive: "Now it's wrong to try to protect my family?" Kevin says Helen's right: "If the Bakers are our moral compass, we're pretty lost. Countersuing, that's enough." He takes off.