Sometime later, Liza's changed into her pyjamas, but she's still wired, apparently and opens Marin's door, asking if she's awake. Marin, sitting in bed with a magazine, bitterly says that she is. Liza tiptoes in and plops on the end of the bed. Marin makes a dumb joke about the music, and Liza apologizes that things got out of hand. Marin says it's okay, saying she just hopes everyone can recover in time for Marin's own party on Saturday. "Our birthday party is going to kick butt!" gasps Liza. Marin, knowing that she's going to sound kind of petty but saying it anyway, haltingly informs Liza that Saturday's party was supposed to be for her, not them: "Saturday's the big night, and I'm a big deal here -- this was all before you were coming." Liza, not getting it at all, enthusiastically says, "So now it can be for both of us -- just like always, except we're in frigging Alaska! How fun is that?" She grins so huge it actually looks painful. Marin tries to press her point -- that she doesn't want Liza box-blocking her at her own birthday party -- but before she can get into it, she starts sniffing the air with alarm. "Is it...man scent?" asks Liza dorkily. "SMOKE," says Marin, asking whether Liza left candles burning. They burst into Liza's room to see her curtains consumed in flame, and scream. Good thing Theresa's a night owl.
After the commercials, it's morning, and a bunch of firefighters are finishing up dealing with the blaze/flirting with Liza. Marin and Theresa come out on the porch in their pyjamas and coats; Theresa comments that it looks Liza's going to get a date out of the fire, and Marin snarks that Liza could get a date out of a wrong number. She judgmentally adds that Liza's still married, and Theresa wryly reminds her, "So am I -- what's your point?" "Nothing," Marin wearily replies, adding a general bitch about Liza flitting from setting her room on fire to jumping into a burly stranger's arms. "Aw, you're no fun," smirks Theresa, turning her face to the sun. "Did she teach you that?" whines Marin. "Yeah," Theresa cheerfully replies, and Marin complains, "Oh, great, quote the new girl. You know, I was the new girl in town before Liza arrived." Yeah, we're aware of your feelings on the theft of your thunder, Me-rin. "I was the new girl before you arrived," Theresa informs her. "Prepare to pass the torch." "Yeah, that's what she needs -- a torch," laughs Marin.
Patrick rolls up, in full firefighter regalia and with a huge grin: "That was cool!" Patrick is apparently more psyched to be involved with his first blaze as a volunteer firefighter than he is dismayed that he fought it on his own property. Theresa tells him she's sorry about his father, but Patrick doesn't need condolences: "Sorry? We got the first clue we had in years! Finally found the plane -- now we've just got to find him!" Theresa and Marin share a look over Patrick's steadfast denial of the facts, but then he offers coffee, and Marin is too excited to get in on that to probe Patrick's issues any more deeply for now.