What I had thought was Daniels's bachelor apartment but is apparently actually Rhonda's. In the kitchen, Daniels is eating dinner while Rhonda washes dishes. After a moment, she turns around and asks whether he minds if she comes tomorrow. "'Mind'?" he asks. She clears her throat, all awkward, and asks if he wouldn't be embarrassed. Daniels warmly assures her that he would be proud for her to be there. She chuckles sexily, and Daniels says it's funny how it works out: he spent so many years being careful and covering his ass, but as soon as he let out some of what he actually thought, he got promoted to colonel. And Rhonda was all terrified about her subpoenas, and they ended up getting her promoted, too. Daniels tells Rhonda that Marla once said to him, "You cannot lose if you do not play," but here they are. Rhonda takes Daniels's face in her hands and gives him a big kiss. Daniels muses that "maybe it's changing," and things aren't going to be as fucked up in the city as they have been. Rhonda chuckles again, raising her eyebrows like, "Anything's possible, I guess." Daniels raises his glass: "To Carcetti." "To us," says Rhonda. To enjoying the good times, because God knows they come along seldom enough. Clink.
Steak house. Dinner is over, and the kids come trudging out, Bunny reminding Zenobia that she had wanted to take a picture of the restaurant. Zenobia sadly says it's okay, but Bunny insists, and Zenobia finally hands over the camera from her pocket. Bunny tells the kids they can get in the picture, but none of them wants to, so Bunny is left alone to take a picture of the restaurant awning with Zenobia's sad little disposable camera. They head back to the car, Darnell asking if they can stop at McDonald's. Zenobia bleats at him, but Darnell complains that he doesn't like fish. Zenobia asks why he ordered it, then, and as they bicker in the back seat, Namond turns the radio on to a hip-hop station. Bunny tersely tells him to turn it down, and Namond sasses, "Turn it up? All right!" Darnell and Zenobia bicker some more in the back seat, and the scene breaks your heart like someone sitting on your chest.
Prez's class. Prez is a good soldier, and has put the desks back in rows and distributed the Language Arts practice materials. No one cares. Prez reads the text, which is riddled with terms that are way above the students' reading level, so no one has any idea what the hell is going on -- particularly Prez, who's supposed to be on fractions right now.