Meanwhile, in a modest cottage in Pullman, Washington -- excuse me, but I have to take a moment to admire the mullioned windows on the sun porch and the charming proportions. Okay, where were we? West coast, that's where. And with L.J.! He's dorking around when the phone rings and it turns out to be Linc on the other line. They have a sweetly awkward conversation, with Linc saying, "I, uh, I miss you," and L.J. responding, "Yeah, me too." But L.J., how can you miss you? Is this one of those zen things? Anyway, L.J. hints that maybe Linc could have called more with, "I didn't know you had Jane's number... you never called." Linc apologizes and explains, "It's been dangerous." However, he's hopeful that this time, they've found something to put "the whole thing" behind them, and then he can come and get L.J. Linc waxes rhapsodic, "You and me, and your uncle --" "Dad?" L.J. interrupts. Linc stops, and L.J. explains, "I want you to end this more than anything. But I'm in school again. Under a fake name, but it's still school, you know?" Cut to Linc wondering which side of the family is responsible for the anti-truancy gene, and whether L.J. has any extracurriculars that could prove awkward later, such as cowbell choir. L.J. then says, "This is the closest thing to a home I've had in a long time." He does not add, "You know, since I got my mom killed." Nor does he add, "But don't worry -- you can come and visit me and my new hot stepmom as soon as Drive gets cancelled and Kristin Lehmann's available for this show again." L.J. instead adds, "I'm guess I'm just saying that for now, for a while, I just want to stay in one place and have something normal." Linc, to his credit, swallows his disappointment. Michael winces as he watches Linc. (That's a nice moment -- so restrained yet so suggestive of a long history of hyperawareness to Lincoln's moods.)