Chandler allows the two maids, Stacy and Renee (they have names now?), to go home. Jack returns. The guest suite is all made up for him. Jack recalls that Richard and Gwen never wanted Chandler to go into the Navy, but they were both so proud of him when he did. Eh? Jack needs to know that he can count on Chandler. "Always," Chandler promises.
Chandler walks in on Heather, who's wearing a slinky black negligee, which, for a change, doesn't look that bad. She just happened to be staring across the pool, looking for Chandler in his bedroom. Chandler needs to know how Richard died. She's already told him. There's nothing else? Nope, he just collapsed. She rightly assumes that Chandler was on his way up that night to blow the whole operation. ["As opposed to the 'operation' Heather was blowing at the time." -- Wing Chun] Unfortunately for Chandler, he has to live with the guilt for the rest of his life. She thinks he's blowing everything out of proportion. Can't he see that Richard died happy and that the baby inside her can now know the identity of its father? Chandler informs her that while he will be the baby's father (nothing can ever change that, he wisely adds), the two of them will never be together. That's not what she was saying, she was just..."Never!" he interrupts, and runs off.
Richard's mansion. Daytime. Lucille (a new maid) shows Heather a black gown. Is she crazy? Black is so yesterday. Heather wants something with a little color. Lucille offers another dress. Noooooooo! Something bright. Nooooooo again! Peter arrives, demanding a decision. Heather pauses for a moment and then agrees to the million. Peter must be part oracle because he accurately deduces that she made a last-ditch attempt to bag Chandler. After all, it's what he would have done if he were in her place. I KNEW IT! Heather snarls that Chandler is hardly Peter's type. EVEN MORE PROOF. See, she knew it too. Heather wants him out of her room so she can put on one of her clown suits. Peter doesn't know when to quit: "Look how close you came to the whole shebang," he jeers. "Within spitting distance." At that odd insult, Heather turns around and takes a swing at him, but Peter catches her fist before it can do any damage. "Maybe I chose the wrong brother," Heather purrs. "Maybe you chased the wrong family," Peter responds. Heather, when will you ever learn? As long as you've got that X chromosome, he's not interested. Peter warns her not to let the door hit her on the way out. He would have said "ass," but technically we're still in the family hour.