Fade back up on fucking. No, Nate and Brenda aren't back together. Yet. This time it's Rico and Vanessa. Now, Freddy Rodriguez is a great actor, so I feel kind of bad pointing out that he's tiny, and therefore given the way this shot is composed to make him look taller, probably grinding his pelvis somewhere in the vicinity of Justina Machado's bellybutton. That can't be good for her baby. You know, if there is one. Rico enthuses at length about the epic quality of their dry humping on this particular occasion, noting that it's especially great that Vanessa actually "wanted to." "I mean, it's been a long time since you…" he says, trailing off into silence. I'll leave you and your very dirty minds to finish the rest of that sentence. In a fan-fic, no doubt. Vanessa's new medications are obviously working, because she's all peppy and cheerful, and she even signed the two of them up for a dance class that evening so they can learn the salsa, the tango, and the merengue. "The merengue!" exclaims Rico. "My mother used to do that. She won trophies. Little tiny trophies, but trophies nonetheless." Vanessa doesn't even bat an eyelash at the mention of a non-dead mother, and instead leaps out of bed to go make coffee and wake the kids. Rico just lies there grinning like a fool, acting all manly and puffing out his freshly-waxed chest in a silent indictment of the crappy sex life of his significantly hairier co-star.
Oh my God! It's a car scene filmed in an actual moving car! Wow. What's next, an episode without the word "fuck" in it? David and Keith have hit the highway to drive down for Aunt Jeanie's funeral, and David is examining the culturally-correct black Barbie they've bought as a present for Taylor. "When I was a kid I used to have GI Joes," he reminisces. "They were always getting court-martialed, which in my version meant they had to stand naked in front of the other dolls." Hee! "So is that something you'd like to act out?" asks Keith, sending all those fan-fic writers scrambling for the "New Document" button in Microsoft Word. "I think we've had enough excitement for a while," wet-blankets David, who is finally beginning to verbalize his discontent with the constant threesomes. "Oh, really?" Keith snarks. "So that wasn't you the other night begging us to arrest and interrogate you?" Heh. That's funny, but doesn't anyone else remember the days when Keith used to hate being the "Big Black Sex Cop" all the time? David grudgingly admits that the sex is "fun," but he still can't shake the nagging suspicion that the constant presence of strange men in their bed doesn't bode well for a healthy long-term relationship. This escalates into an argument about their respective communications skills as a couple, with David noting that Keith always wants him to express himself, but every time he does, Keith just "shuts down." Having failed to win the debate through the clever use of psychobabble, David decides to switch tactics and try a little exposition instead. "You're just tense because we're going to see your father," he says. "I don't have a problem with him," insists Keith. "I've been working on all that stuff in my individual therapy. That's all I talk about." David complains that Keith never mentioned any of this to him, and also grudgingly points out that he tells Keith everything. "That's because you want my approval," says Keith. "No, it's because I love you," David answers, with just the right amount of sarcasm. Incidentally, Mathew St. Patrick gets bonus acting points for this scene because he actually remembers to keep his eyes on the road while "driving." It's amazing what being in a real car can do.