What is love, listeners? What is it about the nature of love that makes the threat of harm so integral to its existence? If we were to pry open the human heart from its delicate cage and carefully carve into it with a scalpel, we would find no evidence of love.
Maria's not sure how it all happened, really.
Buffy and Faith are living it up in Cleveland, over thirty and regularly trying to convince their neighbors they're really just roommates, not "roommates", no matter what Faith wants. Of course, then things get all fucked up, complete with an apocalypse.
"It's Karen," she says hopelessly in the middle of his doorway like he wouldn't know her a thousand other ways. The whiff of perfume on her, Viktor & Rolf Flowerbomb trapped underneath a thick smear of booze, or the sound of her shoes on the hard tile floor. She's drunk already; her breathing is faint and thready. Her face is too hot.
There are still two men in Kathy's life.
Finn, a war hero and a Senator for the stormtroopers settled on Kef Bir, experiences an assassination attempt. The Senate, furious at Finn for insisting on stormtroopers' right to self-determination, assigns him a convict who's had his ability to access the Force stolen from him: Kylo Ren.
Then shit really starts getting weird.
"Your husband is a schmuck to eat out when he's got a dish like you at home."
Andrew makes for a bad date, even when he's not the one paying. Fletcher is determined to drag him all over New York or die trying.