At Lady Heather's Lair, Jimmy chuckles while watching television. Tate Donovan, by the way, acts the shit out of the relief Jimmy is feeling right now. Lady Heather enters, clothed in a red satin robe. She thought basketball season was over, and Jimmy explains that he's watching ESPN Classic. Lady Heather seems tolerant in this scene, and even loving toward Jimmy. She joins him on the couch as he explains that he's watching Game Seven of the 1986 Lakers/Pistons NBA finals. Jimmy insists that Lady Heather should remember watching this on the first go-round, since she was pregnant with Marissa at the time. All Lady Heather can recall, however, is that she was "so swollen." Jimmy cites a bunch of players -- I won't even try to go there -- and Lady Heather humors him, smiling and nodding her head. She stares at the television, as Jimmy, who obviously didn't get the point earlier in his den, tries to explain, "You know that thing, that I was tryin' to talk to you about?" She "Jimmy"s him, as he finishes by saying he took care of it. She knew he would. He says, "You did?" and they kiss. Back to the game, and Lady Heather can't believe she's old enough "to have watched people play basketball in those shorts." Aw. Poor, momentarily happy Jimmy. This can't be headed anyplace good.
Suddenly Marissa busts into Lady Heather's Lair, flailing and crying and running up the stairs. Lady Heather acts concerned, but it's Jimmy who goes after her. Marissa's thrown herself on her bed, where she lies in a pile and cries. Jimmy asks her what's the matters like she's a two-year-old. A two-year-old puppy, no less. She rolls around crying and he orders her to give him a hug. So they hug, and he laughs -- because a girl like Marissa couldn't have any real problems -- and insists that she can tell him anything, because they tell each other everything. She asks, "Do we?" Burn!