Little White Sex Pad. David and Patrick sit on the sofa, sipping wine and bitching about Keith and David's troubles. "I'm so bored with this kind of happiness," complains David. "I think I'm ready for some new unhappiness." The LWSD, however, is working the whole "sensitive and supportive third party" angle right the hilt. "I want you to know," he says, with sincerity practically dripping from the dorky corners of his mouth, "that more than anything, I take you and your situation with Keith very seriously. And if you can…be happy with Keith, I want you to be. Do you know what I'm saying?" Boy, does he. David practically leaps across the couch to grab the wineglass out of Patrick's hand and plant a kiss on him that would have made Kerr Smith cry like a little girl. Aww. I have to admit, I'm kind of liking these two together.
Locust Landing. Claire is recuperating on Brenda's sofa, while Brenda delivers the ultimate shout-out of the episode by asking, "What do you think of my new house? It's kind of gross, isn't it?" I've been asking people that exact same question lately, because it's been two weeks already and I'm STILL trying to get the smell of the previous owner's dogs out of the carpet. But then I go out and have a cigarette on my fancy new balcony and mentally rehearse a few good lines I can use to pick up chicks by offering to show them the fireplace in my bedroom, and I end up feeling much better about the place. Now if I could only remember where I packed all my underwear. That's a joke, by the way. Sort of. "I used to wonder when I'd get there, you know?" sighs Brenda. "To the grown-up place? I almost got there with Nate. And now, here I am." "You're still in love with my brother, aren't you?" replies Claire, which seems like an excessively personal question to ask someone who was just nice to enough to non-judgmentally drive you to get an abortion. Brenda, however, isn't bothered in the least, and she insists that she's absolutely, one hundred percent not in love with Nate "or anything like that." Of course, that whole sentiment would have been a lot more convincing if she hadn't been repeatedly doodling "Mrs. Brenda Chenowith-Fisher" in her notebook the entire time, but that's a different story. The conversation shifts to Lisa, with Claire observing that things are "so fucked up, with Lisa being…whatever she is." "You know what was weird about Lisa?" she asks, with the perhaps unintentional use of the past tense. "I think she really liked me." Ouch. I sure hope that one wasn't a shout-out. If liking Claire is weird, I don't ever want to be normal again. "I mean, she was fucked up, too, don't get me wrong," she continues. "But it was a different kind of fucked up from our family. It was a mostly friendly kind of fucked up." Which really is the best kind, I suppose. Claire ends the conversation by apologizing to Brenda for liking the other woman in Nate's life, and then Brenda hops up to go make some pasta. "I don't think I could ever eat again," mumbles Claire, as she curls herself back up on the sofa. Aww. She's even cute when she's got cramps.