The Perfect Couple

Previously on The O.C.: Ryan claimed he knew what Marissa wanted' Marissa vacantly informed Lady Heather that she wanted to live with her father; Seth asked Anna for training in "the ways of women"; Rachel irritated millions simply by existing, Sandy took on a boring environmental case targeting Caleb's development company; Rachel refused to drop fucking dead; and Ryan and Marissa made out on a Ferris wheel.

Bamp-chicka-bow-wow. Porn. I am watching porn, people. And it's not even good porn, because it's Marissa, prone on the pool-house futon, panting and gasping as Ryan moves into the frame from somewhere below the belt loops on her low-rise cargo pants. They're both clothed, so I have no idea what he was doing down there, exactly, but it's nice to know frottage is now an acceptable manner of displaying affection in prime-time programming. They mack, and when Ryan starts sucking on her neck, Marissa shudders and giggles, "Ticklish!" "Sorry," Ryan mumbles, not terribly sorry at all. This goes on for quite some time until Marissa realizes that it's nearly 11, and if she doesn't head back to Jimmy's soon, she'll miss curfew. She pushes herself up into a sitting position to slip on her extravagantly ugly flats, but Ryan playfully snatches them away from her and collapses back on the bed. She follows, photogenically resting her head on his chest. Good God, Ben McKenzie is pretty. He needs to do something about those bangs, though. Marissa exposits that she hasn't spoken with Lady Heather since moving out of the house. Before she can launch into a full-scale rant about her wicked bitch of a mother, though, Ryan hushes her with a soft "hey." He stares up at the ceiling for a bit in silence, and then tentatively wonders if they could "spend a whole night together" that weekend. Marissa slowly raises her head to gaze at him, her expression characteristically unreadable. Ryan misinterprets her vacuity as hesitation, and mutters, "You know, we could, uh, go out? Do something? Finally have our first official date?" Marissa smiles, "Saturday night." Ryan grins back at her, and they mash their faces into each other again for some more macking.

Kirsten raps on the door a couple of times and barges in without waiting for Ryan's response. She babbles, "Hey, Ryan, Sandy's stuck at the o-o-oh, my God!" Heh. Marissa immediately bolts upright as Kirsten continues, "I am so. Sorry!" Marissa grabs her shoes and makes as graceful an exit as is possible under the circumstances as Kirsten continues stammering her apologies. Ryan, meanwhile, draws his knees up to his chest, offering his foster mother an impenetrable look. Once Marissa's gone, Kirsten turns to Ryan and somewhat helplessly admits, "This never happened with Seth." Hee! And with that, we head into the opening credits.

Speaking of the credits, I wonder if Al Jolson's estate rakes in a couple of hundred bucks every time said credits air. This has got to be one of the most bizarre covers I've ever heard, and I'm including Ethel Merman's entire disco album in that statement.

Big House kitchen, the following morning. Sandy -- looking more haggard than usual, if that's possible -- practically squeals, "You walked in on them?" Kirsten grimly confirms this and, hoisting a mug of coffee to her lips, suggests that Sandy have a chat with the juvenile delinquent in the pool house. "About what?" Sandy asks. "You know," Kirsten prompts uncomfortably. "Sex." "Sounds like Ryan knows what he's doing," Sandy chuckles. "I mean [about] sex in the house," Kirsten amends. "Right, because we obviously don't believe in that," Sandy replies, segueing into a discussion of the bed death that has overrun their marriage since he took his new job. "Hey, I'm not the one coming home at midnight," Kirsten counters with a bit of a teasing grin on her face. "No, you're coming home at 11:45," Sandy retorts in kind. "Well, I might be coming home earlier if your firm wasn't suing my company," she bickers playfully. "Maybe we'll get lucky and settle at the conference tomorrow," he exposits. "Maybe we'll get lucky tonight," she smiles. "Eight?" Sandy makes an ehh noise. "Nine?" she asks. "Nine-thirty?" he offers. She sidles into a clinch to vow, "If you're not home by 10, I'm starting without you." They mack. There's a lot of that this evening, isn't there? This show's Carmex budget must be astronomical. Before Sandy can toss Kirsten's derriere onto the sink and bang her against the counter, Fatal Attraction-style, Ryan lopes into the room with an affable "Morning!" Sandy and Kirsten pull apart guiltily, and Sandy inexplicably states, "We're all very proud." Of what? Ryan nailing the forty-year-old bag of bones from the house over? How inappropriate and bizarre. Ryan apologizes for last night's unauthorized antics, without getting into the specifics, as Seth wanders in from the hall. "Sorry about what, man?" he wonders. "What'd I miss?" The other three completely ignore him, Ryan continuing to mumble apologies while Kirsten whispers to Sandy, "Talk to him!" Sandy shrugs her off and exits for his office. "We should get going, too," Ryan says. "Hey, wait!" Seth pleads, bouncing around the kitchen like a hyperactive puppy. "I'm not going anywhere until someone tells me what happened last night! Mom?" Kirsten just raises her brows and bolts. "Oh, I get it," Seth sighs, defeated. "I'm just here for the comic relief." That's one way of looking at it, kiddo.

Over at the school, Ryan and Seth hike up the stairs, with Seth pumping Ryan for the skinny on last night's thwarted face-suck. Ryan shrugs that Kirsten didn't actually interrupt much. "We haven't even had our first date yet," Ryan notes. "Last night doesn't count?" Seth asks. Not according to Ryan, it doesn't, and he adds that he and Marissa will be hitting the town that Saturday evening for their first official night out. Awkwardly changing the subject, Seth stammers, "But you...you have before, right?" Ryan gives him A Look. "Oh," Seth splutters. "Wow. Okay, that's what I thought. I just didn't want to jump to conclusions, because my experience is somewhat limited." Ryan shoots Seth an amusing side-eye as Seth babbles on. "And?" Seth finally leads. "And what?" Ryan mildly replies. "Was it awesome?" Hee! Mere transcription does no justice to Brody's breathily eager and leering delivery of that line. "Which time?" Ryan asks casually, and poor little virginal Seth's head explodes. "Uh...I don't...um...there were...how...how many times were there?" he stammers, stopping dead in his tracks. Ha! "Same girl, or different girls?" Ryan asks, and even though his expression and tone are pretty even and matter-of-fact, I get the feeling he's secretly enjoying this. "There were different girls?" Seth bleats. Aw. "How many were there?" Ryan blows out some air and exaggeratedly adds up his various sordid Chino dalliances in his head. Seth's brain entirely shuts down, and he wobbles over to a nearby railing to sit. Hee.

Meanwhile, Marissa and Summer amble through a nearby arcade. Summer's pumping Marissa for the same sort of details, and wow. Mischa Barton looks like she's old enough to be Rachel Bilson's mother. What's up with that? "Nothing happened!" Marissa insists. "What's his problem?" Summer snorts. "There is no problem," Marissa replies. "I just don't know if I'm ready yet." "But Luke already took care of that awkward, painful part," Summer reminds the audience. "And look how well that turned out," Marissa snarks. She stops walking to face Summer, and claims that she wants to take things slowly with Ryan, adding they're going on their first official date that weekend. Summer rolls her eyes and warns Marissa to prepare herself for a disaster. "What does Chino know about a date?" Summer sneers. "I mean, where he's from? They don't even have a P.F. Chang's." Heh. For those of you who haven't been following the press this show's been receiving, that line's a shout-out to the actual Chino Chamber of Commerce. Apparently, they're so worried about the beating their city's image is taking on this show, they're afraid the aforementioned restaurant chain won't open a planned branch within the Chino city limits. Too goddamned funny.

Back with the boys, Seth's mind is well and truly blown as he realizes, "So when you lost your virginity, I was playing Magic: The Gathering." "You're still playing Magic," Ryan deadpans. "Not as much!" Seth yelps. Hee. The gals walk up, and Seth instantly lies that he and Ryan were just discussing the big date. Referring to Ryan's non-existent plans, Seth claims, "He's got a whole thing happening." Ryan shoots Seth a vicious side-eye as Seth obliviously continues, promising Marissa a big surprise and "the best date ever." Having thus doomed Ryan to expectations he couldn't possibly meet, Seth hops to his feet and offers, "Summer? Walk you to Bio?" "I can walk myself," she eye-rolls. "Great!" Seth perks. "Then you can walk me, too!" He's freaking adorable. Marissa, beaming, repeats Seth's best-date-ever promise and leans in to peck Ryan on the cheek. Ryan gapes.

Wolfram And Hart South. Irritating Rachel, The Homewrecking Slut natters on and on in front of an open laptop about the wetlands I don't care about as Sandy leans in over her shoulder to examine the report she's referencing. When The Homewrecking Slut suggests that it'll be another long evening at the office, Sandy begs off, citing his plans for the night with Kirsten. The Homewrecking Slut exclaims, "Sandy Cohen, you are cheating on me! With your wife!" with what's meant to be endearing mock indignation, but Bonnie Somerville's line deliveries suck so much, all I want to do is clock her one across the jaw. Sandy hems and haws and explains that he and Kirsten need some time alone to recharge their marriage's batteries or something, like, more information than is necessary in an office environment, chum. The Homewrecking Slut guilts him into canceling his plans. I hate her.

Caleb's Cabal Of Environmental Destruction That Nobody Cares About. Kirsten chugs into her father's office with some good news, but stops short when she spies Lady Heather conversing with her father. Lady Heather bubbles over with a couple of air kisses and announces, "This man just saved the Children's Hospital benefit." Caleb pshaws, but Lady Heather insists that he not be so modest. "I had just lost the Buckley yacht," Lady Heather reveals, "when he graciously agreed to let me host the event on his." "The man just gives and gives," Kirsten offers with a tight smile. You have no idea, honey. No. Idea. Kirsten notes that she hadn't realized Lady Heather was involved with the benefit, leading Lady Heather to claim, too demurely by half, "I though it was time to stop dwelling on my own problems and get back to focusing on the needs of others." Oh, please! Evil! She's evil! And God love her for it. Lady Heather crosses to air-kiss Caleb, and then saunters out of the office. "She is something," Caleb smirks. "She's that," Kirsten observes. Heh. "You know," she warns, crossing to sit, "you are now the official sponsor of The Julie Cooper Comeback Tour." "It's for charity," Caleb shrugs, before copping to his real motive for helping her with the benefit: "After all the bad press your husband's been getting us, it can't hurt the company to be involved with a good cause." Kirsten lifts a brow and changes the topic to her "good news." Sandy's cancelled their plans for the evening in favor of another late night at the office, so she'll be able to remain for the "working dinner" her father had scheduled. Caleb instantly casts aspersions on Sandy's fidelity, insinuating that he's having an affair with The Homewrecking Slut. Kirsten shuts her father down with a flat "I trust him." "You know what they say," Caleb smarms. "The only man a girl should trust is her father." And that's just wrong on so many different levels, isn't it? Kirsten allows a small smile at this, then rises to leave.

Over on The Harbor School's fabulous cafeteria patio with the magnificent coastline view, Anna's joined Seth and Ryan for lunch and date-planning. She's using chopsticks. Not good. "I don't know why you don't just take her to dinner and a movie," Anna notes. "It's a classic combination." True, but even the classic combination has unforeseen pitfalls. Some guy took me to dinner and a movie once on a first date. The dinner? Italian. Very nice. The movie? Natural Born Killers. Not so much. I never spoke to the creepy bastard again. Anyway, Ryan mopes through a mouthful of potato chips that he can't take Anna's advice "because someone promised [Marissa] the Best Date Ever." Seth attempts to placate Ryan with the news that he did a little reconnaissance on Ryan's behalf. "I was extremely stealth, and I spoke to Summer," he relates. This should be good. Not. By the way, at the mention of Summer's name, Anna makes a tremendous stink face and eyes her chopsticks as if she'd like to ram them up Summer's nose until they plunge into her brain and kill her. Seth -- typically oblivious to Anna's reaction -- continues, "I asked her, what would Marissa want to do on a date? What would she really enjoy? And she told me she didn't know." Heh. "How helpful," Anna snots. "But!" Seth adds with a pointed glare in Anna's direction, "Summer's favorite activities are shopping, tanning, and waxing. Maybe there's something there, man. They're best friends. Use that!" Hee. Anna bitches some more about Summer before asking Ryan what he normally does on a date. Ryan's forced to admit that he's never actually been on one. He's "hung out" with girls, if you know what he means, and I think you do, but he never actually "went out." Ryan rises to head to class, warning Seth not to make his bad situation any worse through further meddling. Anna and Seth collect their trays and walk off in the opposite direction, Seth asking what Anna thinks Summer's three favorite movies are. "Let's see," Anna smirks. "Battleship Potemkin, The Seventh Seal, and Shoah." Ha! Can you imagine Summer sitting through all nine and a half hours of Shoah? Can you imagine Summer even knowing what the word "shoah" means? Yeah, me neither. Hee. "Can we, just, like, not talk about Summer for five minutes?" Anna Valley-Girls, even though she's from the grimy depths of Pittsburgh. Seth splutters that they talk about other things all the time, like sailing and music. "Right," Anna snarks. "About how you named your boat after her, and how you made her a burned CD with all your favorite songs with the word 'summer' in them." Heh. Seth buhs and makes whining noises about the nature of friendship. Anna sighs and heads back to the cafeteria for "dessert," shooting Seth a glare over her shoulder as she goes. Seth gapes.

Divorce Dunes. Marissa brightly unlocks the door and calls out a greeting to her father, but stammers to a halt when she spots Lady Heather on the sofa. Lady Heather has the oddest effect on the women in this show, doesn't she? "What are you doing here?" Marissa finally demands once she's regained her composure. Jimmy enters the frame to feed Marissa the same line of bullshit Lady Heather fed him, to wit: "Your mother was just in the neighborhood and dropped by to see how we're doing?" Whatever, Jimmy. You call me when the shuttle lands. "How are we doing, Mom?" Marissa sneers. Jimmy tells his daughter to cool it and sit down for a chat with her parentals. Lady Heather adopts a look of fond concern and explains that she's hosting the Children's Hospital benefit that Saturday evening, and that she'd like the Coopers to attend as a family. She also stresses that it's all "for the children." Snicker. Like this hard-as-nails bitch gives a rat's ass about little Chemo Kayla and her buds in the cancer ward. Lady Heather adds, "This party is a chance for us to show the community that we still belong." Poor Lady Heather. You can take the chronically insecure gold-digging maneater out of Riverside, but you can't take the Riverside out of the chronically insecure gold-digging maneater, no? "Yes, we've suffered some setbacks," Lady Heather continues, casting a subtly foul sidelong glance at Jimmy. "Your father's business in particular." Snerk. "But it's important for us to show everyone that the Cooper family is back." "Why do you care what other people think?" Marissa spits. "Look, Marissa," Jimmy interrupts. "No one has fewer nice things to say about your mother than me." Lady Heather purses her lips, lifts her brows, and glowers. Ha! Jimmy concludes: "But she's been pouring her heart out to me, and I think you're going to want to hear what she has to say." Lady Heather, pouring her heart out? Well, I suppose that explains the bitter, black bile staining Jimmy's carpet and walls. Lady Heather summons no small amount of willpower and forces her tear ducts open to moisten her eyes. She mistily apologizes for trying to pack Marissa off to the lunatic asylum in San Diego. "Everything I cared about was falling apart," Lady Heather explains, "and I was blaming everyone but myself." Marissa, moron that she is, falls for this crap, and shamefacedly averts her gaze from her mother's eyes. "I just want us to feel like a family again," Lady Heather lies, "and I'm going to need your help. Will you help me?" With that, she offers Marissa her left hand. Marissa pauses for a very long moment, and then wraps her fingers around her mother's. Lady Heather beams. Wickedly.

Pool house. Ryan is loafing on the futon, futzing with his laptop, when someone raps on the door. "Wow. Knocking," he smirks before calling out, "It's open!" He's shocked to see Marissa edging into the room. "Bad news," she admits. "I know you had Saturday night all planned." Ryan's eyes dart furtively around his head, and he covers by futzing some more with the computer. "Something's come up," Marissa continues. "That sucks," Ryan breathes. Hee. Marissa announces that, instead, they'll be "spending a romantic evening aboard a yacht for this charity event hosted by...my mom." "Your mom hates me," Ryan reminds her. Marissa argues that it's just because Lady Heather hasn't gotten to know Ryan yet, and insists that her mother's "changed" since Ryan's last run-in with her. Then, poor, delusional Marissa starts babbling about how wonderful her life will be once her parents reconcile and things go back to the way they once were. Ryan's expression is all, "Keep telling yourself that, princess," but he remains silent, which Marissa misinterprets as angst over spending an evening with Lady Heather. "Look," she tells him, "first-date stuff -- candy, flowers -- that's easy." Ryan, making a mental list, repeats, "Candy. Flowers. Right." Heh. "But it's times like these," Marissa continues, "when a girl needs her boyfriend the most." "'B-b-boyfriend'?" Ryan stammers, all raised eyebrows and gaping mouth. "Aren't we...." Marissa starts, puzzled. "I guess," he sort-of confirms. "It's just that I've never been a boyfriend before." "But you've had girlfriends?" Marissa ponders, still not getting it. "Not girlfriends. Just girls...you know," he admits. Marissa silently realizes that Ryan means he freaked a bunch of Chino sluts, but that nothing went any further than that. "Your mom, Saturday night," he exhales, hastily changing the subject before the conversation leads to further embarrassment. "Sounds great." "Good," Marissa smiles, pulling Ryan in to nuzzle his cheek. Ryan's face is uncomfortably smashed against hers, and he's got the deer-in-the-headlights thing going on in his eyes. Heh. Commercials.

We return to find Seth in the kitchen with a cup of coffee the following morning. "I admit it," he says. "I occasionally talk about Summer -- I may even talk about her too much, but that's not really the point, is it?" The shot cuts to Rosie, who glares wearily at Seth for a beat before exiting with a stack of towels. Heh. Ryan lopes in to pour himself some orange juice, and Seth pounces. "So get this," he begins, nodding his head around like he can't believe what he's about to say. "Anna thinks all I ever do is talk about Summer. I mean, that's crazy, right?" Ryan's all, "Dude, you never fucking shut up about her." Only he conveys that without opening his mouth. Horrified, Seth gasps, "I'm that guy? How could I be that guy? I hate that guy!" Ryan downs a handful of dry cereal as Seth babbles some more about Summer. "You're doing it again," Ryan mumbles. "Right!" Seth agrees, instantly going tight-lipped.

Out on the deck, Kirsten lounges on one of the chairs with the newspaper and some coffee. Haggard Sandy ambles out of the house to apologize for canceling their "date" the prior evening. "Is Rachel's boyfriend as understanding as I am?" Kirsten fishes. "Rachel doesn't have a boyfriend," Sandy admits. "Mmm," Kirsten hums with a smile. "Go figure." "You know," she adds, looking up from the paper, "some people who don't like their lives make work their life." Sandy insists that she's not talking about him, and adds that if their settlement conference goes well, he could be home by 6 that evening. "Is that a bribe, counselor?" she grins. They mack, but quickly pull apart when Ryan jogs up the stairs. He offers them a cute little wave before disappearing into the pool house. "Did you have the talk?" Kirsten asks. "I like to lead by example," Sandy smooves, and he and Kirsten mack some more.

School. Ryan and Seth wander through the halls, chatting about the benefit. Ryan twists Seth's arm until he agrees to tag along to the thing, and suggests that Seth ask Anna if she'd like to accompany him. Seth hikes over to Anna's locker and invites her to the benefit by promising that they'll spend the entire evening "in a corner, quietly mocking people." Anna -- who's wearing an assy newsboy cap, distracting dangly earrings, and far too much eyeliner and rouge -- asks if Summer will be there as well. Seth vows that he doesn't care, and promises never to mention her in front of Anna again. Anna allows herself a smile and agrees to Seth's plan. Wash some of that crap off your face, girl.

Caleb's Cabal Of Environmental Destruction That Nobody Cares About. Settlement meeting. Yawn. The Homewrecking Slut claims that it's only a matter of time before the state snaps up the boringly imperiled wetlands through eminent domain. Caleb wonders what "the Land Trust" is offering for the property. Sandy slides him a pad of paper with a presumably low figure penciled in on the top sheet. Caleb declares the meeting over and rises to leave. Sandy sneers, Caleb accuses him of boning The Homewrecking Slut, Sandy promises to take Caleb down in court, and Sandy and The Homewrecking Slut leave. "I think I hit a nerve," Caleb whispers into his daughter's ear. "Kiki" looks as tired and irritated with the whole thing as I do.

Casa Cooper. "I forgot I had this dress," Marissa notes, wandering from the depths of her ginormous walk-in closet with a hideous rag composed of randomly selected and patterned swatches of fabric that have been stitched into skimpy and eye-searing atrocity. "Happens to me all the time," Ryan sardonically mutters as he collapses onto the bed. Ryan tries to back out of his commitment, claiming that every time he attends a social function in Newport, somebody gets into a fight. He's got a point, but Marissa insists that he'll be fine. Lady Heather knocks on the door and enters to make with the doting-mother routine again, asking Marissa if she'd like to spend Friday night in her old room. Marissa declines, but gratefully thanks her mother for the offer anyway. Lady Heather plucks the skimpy and eye-searing atrocity from her daughter's hands and waxes nostalgic about the trip they made to Beverly Hills to buy the monstrosity. "We saw Catherine Zeta-Jones," Lady Heather enthuses. Ryan nods his head, all, "Terrific!" Heh. Lady Heather sends Marissa off to fetch her foul sister so that they all can head down to the yacht to finish up the prep work for the following evening's party. Marissa tosses a worried glance at Ryan, but heads out into the hallway anyway. Lady Heather watches her go, and then turns back to Ryan. "I know that you and I haven't always seen eye-to-eye," she tells him, "but I want to say that I'm sorry. You really care about [Marissa], and I'm hoping that this party will be a chance for us to start fresh -- a celebration of a new beginning." "I don't really like boats," Ryan slurs warily. Lady Heather purses her lips, grants him a pleading look, and begs, "Please?" "All right," Ryan shrugs, indulging her with a small smile. "Thank you," she breathes, crossing to him and drawing him into a hug. Ryan looks for all the world like he's trapped in the embrace of a Golem intent on squeezing the life force right out of his body. Marissa, however, is delighted to find this display of affection waiting for her when she returns from wrangling her hellspawn sibling. "Let's get to the boat, huh?" Lady Heather perks with a bright smile. Marissa offers Ryan a toothy grin as he trails after her mother into the hall.

Back at school, Seth's whining that the literary magazine won't publish his limericks. "That's censorship!" he pouts. Not if they suck, which they probably do, because they're probably all about Summer. And speaking of Summer, here she is now, toting a lilac purse that clashes horribly with her red t-shirt and plaid turquoise mini-skirt with matching calf-high boots. Seth's surprised to find her loitering around the school at so late an hour, but not surprised to learn that she had detention. "There was a Paul Frank sale," she explains. "I figure that was more important than the fall of the Ming Dynasty. I mean, what am I supposed to learn -- that opium is gnarly?" Kids today still use the word "gnarly"? Who knew? Also, Paul Frank's tacky novelty clothing isn't exactly expensive to begin with, so I don't understand irresistible pull of a Paul Frank sale, but whatever. I suppose they just had to give a shout-out to a Newport-based clothing designer for local color. And because he paid them thousands of dollars for the placement. "Riiiight," Anna condescends. "Because there is no lesson there." Summer gets this hysterically blank look on her face and guhs, "Are you even making fun of me? 'Cause I can't tell." "Most of the time," Anna snits, "you do my job for me." "Again, not tracking," Summer retorts, shaking her head sadly. Heh. Summer shrugs it off and asks "Cohen" to catch her up on History tomorrow. Seth begs off until Sunday, since he and Anna have a charity event to attend. Summer, disturbed by this development, immediately lies that she'll be at the same function. "In fact," she claims, "I'm going with him," pointing out some random meathead on the quad. She hustles her hideously clad ass over to this "Chip" person's side and grabs his hand, shooting a look back over her shoulder to ensure this action has dredged up appropriate amounts of jealousy in Seth. It has. "She's going with him?" Seth splutters. Off Anna's look of death, Seth adds, "I don't care." Snerk.

Big House. Night. Sandy -- arriving home too late for dinner, still angry over the settlement meeting, and entirely heedless of the fact that Ryan's standing right there to hear the ensuing argument -- storms into the kitchen: "What was that today? If you have a problem with Rachel and me, you should come to me." "You're never here," Kirsten lobs back. "Who am I going to talk to if I don't talk to my dad? Seth?" "You don't go running off to your daddy," Sandy seethes. "If that's too hard, then go give Jimmy a call." Oh, no he di-in't! "So nice talking to you," Kirsten sneers before flouncing out of the room. Sandy heaves a weary sigh, realizing that he went way over bounds with that last comment. "Don't ever get married," he jokingly tells the silent Ryan, before asking how things are going with Marissa. Ryan rolls his shoulders around and admits that things would be fine if not for Lady Heather. Sandy mutters something about Ryan teaching him the secret to a successful, stress-free relationship, claps a friendly hand on Ryan's shoulder, and exits the kitchen. Ryan grins ruefully and heads out back with the garbage.

Outside, Ryan hears footsteps on Lady Heather's front walk, and he stops in the shadows to peer down at the gentleman ringing the doorbell. It's Caleb. Lady Heather emerges from Casa Cooper, places her French-manicured claws on either side of Caleb's head, and plants a sloppy, lingering wet one on his lips. Caleb sends his chauffeur off for the evening and steps past Lady Heather to enter the Casa. The smile on Lady Heather's lips dies a quick and horrific death when she happens to spot Ryan lurking behind the palm tree door. Ryan tries to duck back into the shadows, but it's too late. Lady Heather spins on her heel to reenter her home, and the last thing we see before she shuts the door is the magnificent, withering glare she shoots in Ryan's direction. Ha! God, I love her. Note to the production staff: Give Bonnie Somerville the boot already, hire Melinda Clarke full-time, and slap her wonderful wickedness into the opening credits. Trust me on this one. Your viewers will be eternally grateful.

The following afternoon, Marissa arrives at the pool house in that eye-searing atrocity she purchased in the luminous presence of Miss Catherine Zeta-Jones, and it's even worse on her body than it was in her hands. It looks like a sparkly purple brassiere with swatches of black lace and yellow satin pinned to the bottom. Ryan, almost completely dressed but still in his stocking feet, bounds across the futon to greet her with a kiss. Aw. He's awfully sweet and boyish for a guy in his thirties. Ryan scrambles for his dress shoes while Marissa perches on the futon, jawing away about how her mother's "a changed person" and how, if everything goes well at the soiree...well, you know. Her parents will reconcile and everyone will live happily ever after. Except for China. Because alopecic ponies, no matter how pretty, never live happily ever after. Ryan remains silent during all of this until it goes far beyond his comfort zone, at which point he announces, "We're going to be late."

Meanwhile, over in the Big House proper, Seth answers the door to find Anna waiting on the front steps with a shy smile and a pair of enormous, dangly ball earrings. They greet each other thusly:

Seth: Yo.
Anna: What up, holmes?
Seth: Chillin'.
Anna: A'ight.

Hee. That was wack. Seth steps aside to allow Anna in, and as she passes, he sniffs the air swirling in her wake. "What's that smell?" he wonders. "Perfume," she duhs, playfully twirling a hand in the air. "Smells like wood chips," he notes, wrinkling his nose. She squints at him. "In a rose garden," he amends, "of roses." Ha! Anna looks around admiringly and asks if he ever uses the hot tub. "Hot tub's for the hos," Seth explains, sliding his hands in his pants and leaning against the sofa. "I usually hang in the grotto." Ryan and Marissa enter, and the gals immediately bolt to powder their noses. "Because girls can't be alone," Seth calls after them. Ryan gives him a look. "What?" Seth asks. "It's Anna. I could say 'pop a squat' in front of her." "Sometimes," Ryan observes, "I think you talk just to make sounds." "You guys ready?" Kirsten asks as she totters down the stairs in her heels. "The girls are peeing," Seth overshares. "Don't say 'pee,'" Kirsten chastises. Seth wonders what's keeping his father. Kirsten rolls her eyes and mutters, "Don't ask."

Wolfram And Hart South. The Homewrecking Slut, clad in jeans and a cut-off t-shirt, flirts shamelessly with Sandy over some pad thai and dumplings. Sandy joins her on the floor of her office to discuss "Plan B" for that lawsuit I so totally don't care about. Just raze the fucking wetlands already and get this over with, assholes.

Newport Marina. Lady Heather and Jimmy stand on the dockside end of Caleb's yacht to greet the arriving guests. Lurking behind and below them is The Bad Seed Caitlyn. When Marissa and Ryan wander up the gangplank, Ryan greets The Bad Seed with a winning smile. The Bad Seed's response? A snottily cold "Hello, Ryan." Pitch the little bitch in the water, Ry. Lady Heather attempts to smooth things over: "Caitlyn doesn't trust new people." "But Ryan," Lady Heather adds, shooting him a look fraught with significance, "is very trustworthy." Ryan squirms, darting his eyes from Lady Heather to Caleb on the upper deck and back again. An obsequiously oily photographer scuttles over with an enormous camera to grovel, "Can I get a photo of the Cooper family?" "Totally!" Marissa enthuses, placing one arm around The Bad Seed and the other around her father. Poor Marissa. Poor stupid, pill-popping, tequila-swilling, anorexic, forty-year-old Marissa. Lady Heather -- taken aback a bit by the whole "family" thing -- recovers nicely: "Yes, of course! Riviera Magazine -- it's very exciting." Ha! It's all in Melinda Clarke's delivery, people. Lady Heather cunningly invites Ryan to join them in the photo, but he's got her number and remains off to the side, noting that the photo op's for the Cooper family and the Cooper family alone. Jimmy dorks something about saying "Cheese!" at the appropriate moment as the oily photographer snaps away.

Up by the steering wheel thingy, or wherever, Ryan broods. Marissa bubbles up and ditzes something about her parents getting back together. Ryan sighs and drops the Caleb bomb. Marissa instantly tears up and flees into the final commercial break.

Wolfram And Hart South. Babble about the lawsuit I don't care about. The Homewrecking Slut -- get this -- crawls across the various documents spread out on the floor on her hands and knees in order to flash about three yards of ass crack at Sandy, like, underwear, harlot. Look into it. Sandy eyes the ass crack briefly before joining her to paw around for the official state budget, in the process unleashing a lame Twister joke upon an unsuspecting and undeserving audience. Sandy, my man. Where's the love? The Homewrecking Slut whores something about that game getting her into a lot of trouble back in college, and you know what? Fuck this subplot. There's no way Sandy Cohen is going to step out on Kirsten with this cheap, talent-free piece of ass, so let's cut to the chase: The Homewrecking Slut humiliates herself by making an overt pass at Sandy, and he kicks her to the curb: "I've got a boat to catch." Sandy gathers his things and leaves. The Slut pouts. Drop dead, biotch.

Back on the boat, Seth and Anna rip on the other guests. Seth points out an unseen youth who's apparently sporting a wispy moustache, and mock-shouts shaving instructions. Anna bats at him, giggling, and opines that Seth's speaking from personal experience. "Well, maybe when I was thirteen," he admits, "my nickname used to be 'Magnum P.I.' Mothers can be so cruel." Heh. They banter about the relative merits of Pittsburgh and Newport for a bit before Anna gazes at Seth dreamily and leans in for a kiss. Seth loses his nerve at the last second and, adorably stammering, offers to fetch her a drink. Anna smiles a sad little smile as she watches him go.

Seth motors past Summer and the Chipster, the latter of whom is babbling something about the sky. "Yeah, not understanding a word you're saying," Summer snits. "Finish 'shrooming, and I'm gonna go get a drink." She chases after Seth.

In the bar area below, Lady Heather takes to the microphone to announce that the event has raised $200,000 for the children's charity. Marissa darts into the room in time to see Caleb move in towards her mother. Disgusted, she shakes her head and looks down at her flats as Ryan enters the room behind her.

Somewhere above, Summer latches onto Seth's arm and pushes him down the stairs to "talk."

Back in the bar, Ryan urges Marissa to leave, just as Lady Heather's graciously calling for a round of applause for Caleb's contributions to the event. Marissa doesn't want her mother "to get away with it," and refuses to go.

Meanwhile, Summer tosses Seth up against a bulkhead and kisses him. They break apart, and then kiss again with even greater urgency. Summer then shoves Seth away: "Oh, God! No!" "Uh, what's happening here?" Seth wonders as Summer backs away from him and collapses onto a bench. "I like Seth Cohen!" she wails, with a look of utter mortification on her face. "You, ah, what now?" he asks, sitting to her. "Nothing!" she spouts. "I wasn't talking to you! And if you tell anyone what you heard here? I'll kill you." She leaps to her feet and skitters away, leaving the gobsmacked Seth to gape and stammer incoherently to himself. Another cute scene.

Bar. Lady Heather introduces her "beautiful daughter" to the assembled guests, and calls Marissa to the stage to announce the winner of "the romantic getaway raffle." Marissa takes the microphone from her mother with a sly smirk on her face and calls, "How about another round of applause for my mom, and for Caleb Nichol?" Lady Heather basks in the adulation. "After all their hard work," Marissa continues, "if anyone deserves a romantic getaway for two, it's my mom and Caleb." Lady Heather freezes, and then slowly turns to shoot daggers at her daughter with her eyes. "Aren't they the perfect couple?" Marissa asks the goggling throng. Caleb shifts uneasily from foot to foot. Jimmy's stunned. Were The Bad Seed capable of human emotion, she'd be about to cry. "They've been keeping their romance a secret," Marissa continues, "but tonight? The secret's out." She flips the mike back to Lady Heather with a scornful "Congratulations, you guys." Ryan smirks at his girlfriend's brassy cojones while Kirsten chokes back the little bit of vomit she just involuntarily coughed up into her mouth. Marissa manages to keep it together until she's exited the room, at which point she leans against the side of the boat and, closing her eyes, cries a bit. Ryan takes in the stunned reaction to Marissa's tirade, and then silently passes through the guests to leave. Lady Heather passes the microphone to The Bad Seed while hissing, "Don't start with me" at Jimmy. Jimmy snickers and says, "After tonight, I'm done with you. You're Caleb's problem now." The oily photographer snaps a couple of shots of Lady Heather's humiliation, and The Bad Seed tops things off by announcing Kirsten and Sandy as the raffle winners. What are the odds, people? What are the odds?

Outside, Lady Heather confronts Marissa, lying that she had every intention of telling Marissa about Caleb after the party, and that she orchestrated the entire evening only to prove to Marissa that she and her daughter could be a family again. Marissa tells her to suck it. Lady Heather glares and vanishes into the boat.

Meanwhile, Anna's delightedly giving Seth a gruesome blow-by-blow of Lady Heather's humiliation at her daughter's hands. Seth's completely grossed out when he realizes that should Lady Heather marry his grandfather, Marissa will be his aunt. Anna wonders how Seth missed all the excitement. Seth stammers, "I-I-I find raffles to be extremely upsetting. Th-th-there's just too much suspense." Heh. As they pass below Summer and her still-whacked-out date, Summer raises a finger to her lips to mime, "Shhh!" and then draws that same finger across her throat in the universal gesture signifying "I will O.J. your scrawny, Xbox-beating ass if you breathe a word about that kiss to anyone, Geek Boy." Unnerved, Seth starts prattling about Pirates of the Carribean while Summer clutches her pearls and looks revolted with herself.

Elsewhere on deck, Kirsten begins a tirade against her father with "I trusted you!," so I immediately shut out the rest of what she has to say. I hate it when people shriek, "I trusted you!" on TV. The upshot is, Kirsten will be shunning her father from now on, so repulsed is she by his liaison with Lady Heather. "Good luck with your new girlfriend," Kirsten spits as she heads for the dock. "You're going to need it." Clueless Sandy, finally arriving, greets his wife with a broad smile. "We're leaving!" she snaps. "But I wore a jacket!" he protests, trailing after her. Hee.

Ryan hesitantly approaches Marissa, who's wiping a few stray tears from her eyes. He asks if she wants him to take her back to Jimmy's. She smiles and says she thinks she's actually ready for their first date. "We're way past that," Ryan notes. They beam at each other.

"So, in theory," Sandy blurts, as he and Kirsten enter their bedroom, "Julie Cooper could be your stepmother." Kirsten would rather not contemplate that horrific outcome, thank you very much, and clomps over to her dresser to remove her earrings. She tells Sandy that the one bright point of the evening was their totally unexpected and completely shocking raffle win. Sandy's down with that. "So, what are you doing now?" he asks her. Kirsten smirks and, turning to draw him into a clinch, breathes, "You." They mack.

The camera cuts over to the pool house, where it tracks past various items of discarded clothing on the floor on its way to the futon. Marissa's panting again. She's also changed into jeans, as we learn when the camera pans up her writhing legs which are currently intertwined with Ryan's. He's rid himself of shirt and tie and lies atop her, beatered. Woof. He invites her to stay the night. "Are Sandy and Kirsten cool with that?" Marissa asks. "Well, we haven't had the talk yet," he grins. "Do you snore?" "No!" she swears in mock outrage, and then softens a bit to admit, "I don't think so. I've never actually slept with someone before." Um. What about that nasty pull-out sofa on the way to Tijuana, missy? Or did the Vicodin overdose wipe out all memory of that particular road trip? Hmmm? Answer any time you feel like it, hon. Ryan -- also forgetting the motel room, for some inexplicable reason -- claims it'll be a first for him as well. "I'm usually climbing out the window or back into the front seat," he admits. Heh. He kisses her goodnight and leans over to turn out the light. In the darkness, Marissa slides over to him with a smile on her face. "I thought you wanted to sleep," he says. "Suddenly, I'm not so tired," she replies. Punctuating each word with a kiss, she adds, "Best. Date. Ever!" The camera discreetly cross-fades to a shot of the pool house exterior and tracks back as we fade to black.

week, Thanksgiving with the Cohens! Sandy and Kirsten try to fix Jimmy up with The Homewrecking Slut; Lady Heather arrives for dinner on Caleb's wrinkled yet wealthy arm; Seth's astonished to find himself with two girls battling for his affections; and Ryan receives an emergency phone call from his imprisoned brother. Scandal! Macking! Turkeys! Enjoy!