At Liz's place, Don takes off articles of, well, not quite clothing, just accessories -- gun, watch, pocket change -- and complains that Logan definitely knew more. Liz comes into the room and takes off her shirt. This all seems like an overly decorous way to have sex. Maybe they're just getting ready for bed. Liz tells Don to forget about the obnoxious manager. Don sits down to take off his shoes and asks how Colby's doing. He's fine. "Yeah?" Don presses. "Focused?" Liz says rather edgily, "I said he did fine." Don leans forward questioningly. "What? If you want more, talk to him yourself," Liz snaps. Don boggles. Liz goes on, "It's hard enough to get respect out there when they all know we're sleeping together." Well, you're not doing much of that now! Don stands up and galumphs around, making irritated noises. He sarcastically thanks her for her help. Liz protests, but then her phone rings. It's Logan. He needs to talk to her, but if he says anything, everything will come apart. Liz tells him to calm down and asks what he means. Logan is standing outside of his car. It's night and he's parked at an overlook, so he's pretty much dead in t-minus-five. Don has emerged from both the bathroom and his pout and is looking questioningly at Liz. Liz says she's coming over to the house, but Logan says he's not there. He's in a turnout, and he tells her where. "It's all just gone too far, you know," Logan says. Liz says she'll be there in a few minutes. And he'll be dead in a minute because -- check your clocks -- yep, we are at the thirty-minute mark!