Episode Report Card Deborah: C+ | Grade It Now! YOU GRADE IT Law And Order: Special Virgins Unit
By Deborah | Season 2 | Episode 19 | Aired on 03.31.2005
Will and Chewy confront the perp, James, with the results of their further testing on the murder weapon. It turns out he manufactured the evidence, to which he had access as a janitor for a temp agency…which just happened to be contracted to clean the coroner's office the night the Hoyt girl's body was brought in. Confronted with all this, he finally admits that he isn't the real murderer, but he lost his three-year-old daughter years ago to some mysterious illness and he couldn't bear the fact that he had no explanation for it, no answer. So he left his family and never amounted to anything. He just wanted to give the Hoyts an answer. Well, I guess that's sweet, but…how dumb is that? Yay, someone innocent is in custody, giving the parents a false sense of closure and justice, and the real murderer's roaming the streets, all too likely to kill someone else's child. Way to help the cause of law and order, nutbar. Next!
The case is over, and everyone streams out of the doors. Adam's sitting back at the defense table, with his head down on his desk, miserable. Luke, who still doesn't know what the hell happened, gloats, "See? The law is precise, Grace. It has a mathematical construct into which the moral variables must be placed. I mean, your idealism has no part in this…" Oh, shut it, Rocket Boy. Grace feels likewise: "Zip it, dude." Mr. Harbison comes over to Joan's table, where she's sitting with her elbows on the table and her hands folded together, propping up her head, to congratulate her on winning: "Quite an achievement for a novice." Joan, indifferently: "Thanks. Feels good." Eventually she stands up; Grace and Luke are still standing there, and she throws her hands up in the air, remarking, "Well…seems like everybody knows something but me." Luke says quietly, "I'm definitely out of the loop here." Grace says, "I think we should leave you two alone." Joan agrees. Luke and Grace walk out. Adam rearranges his head on his arms slightly.
Joan begins, "I always trusted you." I just about fall off the couch snorting over this: "Yeah, except for Iris…and Judith…and Stevie…" But, you know, other than all those times… Adam's crying, and I'm kind of surprised he isn't actually banging his head against the table. He looks up at her finally, in tears, and says, "I am so sorry. It didn't mean anything. It was just a hookup and I thought that's the way it would be, and I just kept thinking it could stay like that, that it could just be about sex." Joan leans back on the table slightly for support: "Sex? You had sex with Bonnie?" I don't know exactly what she was thinking happened up until this point, but clearly, in her mind, it hadn't gone that far. Adam nods without looking at her. Joan looks like she's going to throw up. In a small voice, she asks, "Because I wouldn't?" Adam: "No…I don't know. I -- it kinda just happened, I mean…I love you, Jane, I love you so much. Nobody will ever be what you are to me, and if I could take it back -- I understand why you don't want to have sex, okay? But I just thought that with Bonnie --" Joan: "Shut up. I don't want to hear it. I don't want to hear you try to convince yourself that what you did was okay." Adam's standing now, but she's moved away from him. He puts his arms over his head and squeezes them together, along with his face. She asks, "How long have you been lying to me?" He sniffles, "I wanted to tell you. And I just wanna get over this." Oh God, Adam. Even you can't be that naïve. Joan: "You don't understand. We're not going to get over this. You gave her a…a part of yourself…because I wouldn't sleep with you?" Adam looks like he gets how ugly it is when it's spelled out that way. She continues, "But you had my heart, Adam. And that's what you took with you when you went to…hook up with her." He winces in pain and says, "Jane…" Shut up with that. You lost the right to call her that, buddy. She shakes her head gently, tears in her eyes: "No…we're done. It's over." She walks out, and Adam stays there, crying and letting it sink in. Frink: "Well, that solves the 'going to college together' problem."
Night shot. Joan gets on a bus, and I'm dead sure she's going to see Cute Guy God, but it's Mrs. LandingGod. She sits down next to her, stares straight ahead, and says, "You knew and you didn't tell me. That's your idea of justice." She claims, "I don't interfere. You know that." Oh, please. What a crock. Like when you framed Joan for the egging of Price's car? Just to name the most recent incident. I don't care if God isn't perfectly consistent, but at least don't make God an out-and-out liar, thanks. Joan: "Yeah, well, maybe free will wasn't such a great idea." Then she adds, "I believed in him." Mrs. LandingGod: "I know. That's what makes it hurt so much." Well, that and fifty other things I can think of. Joan sighs, and wells up a little, asking, "What did I do to deserve this?" Mrs. LandingGod: "Nothing. This isn't punishment, Joan. It's simply part of being alive. Of being involved. Of loving." I guess it'll do until actual punishment comes along, though. Joan crosses her arms: "I'm not doing that anymore. I'm never doing that again." Spoken like a true romantic. Mrs. LandingGod says, "I know how painful this is." Joan snorts. "But what you and Adam had was beautiful, too. And that was every bit as real as the pain you're feeling now. You experienced how deeply two people can be connected." Joan asks, "So what do I learn when someone that I trust destroys all that, huh?" Well, not to trust anybody ever again, for starters. And also, eventually, how much therapists charge per hour in your area. Joan rants through her tears: "Maybe it was never real. Maybe you're not even real…this whole…morality thing…right and wrong…it's all just junk. We're all just animals, taking what we want." Mrs. LandingGod asks her, "Do you know what innocence is, Joan?" She snaps, "You know, I don't want Mock Trial right now!" Mrs. LandingGod explains, "It's more than an absence of guilt. It's having faith that there's goodness in the face of cruelty and pain." Joan's face crumples up some more as Mrs. LandingGod puts her arm around her, saying, "Someplace, you still feel that way." Joan lets her head fall on God's shoulder, as Mrs. LandingGod continues, "And that's me. And I'll always be there. Oh, honey." She pats Joan's shoulder as the camera switches to an angle outside the bus, and we watch the bus drive off down the street, as a song called "Where Were You" by Kathrin Shorr plays. "Where were you / When I needed you most?"