In Plain Sight (2008–2012): Season 4, Episode 12 - A Womb with a View - full transcript

♪ ♪

Tavalodet Mobarak

What's she saying?

Tavalodet Mobarak
means "Happy Birthday."

That's "Happy Birthday"
in Persian?

Farsi, baby.

"To-may-to," "to-mah-to," Ali.
I don't get a word of it.

But I love the way
the accent sounds.

Happy Birthday, baby.

You didn't!

Why don't you
go look behind the curtain?



♪ ♪

Thank you, thank you,
thank you!

- Thank you, thank you...
- V8 convertible.

How do you say "yummy"
in Farsi?

Excuse me, baby.

I'll go powder my nose.

Let's go.

Grace Haddick.

Is there
a problem, officer?

Grace Littleton.
Formerly Haddick.

Tahvalli's full-time mistress,
part-time drug runner.

I stayed in Tahvalli's casino
a few years back.

The maid referred to him
as "the Persian godfather."

So Grace
has agreed to flip



against two members
of Ali's inner circle

in exchange
for letting her skate

on federal
drug trafficking charges.

But you want more?

She's given us
zilch on Tahvalli himself.

Minus her testimony,
the big fish walks-- so to speak.

Kinda moving the goal posts
on her, huh, Tippy?

Think she hasn't
done the same to us?

But we know we can't yet prove
is that the 10 grand a week

he was paying her was
for a variety of services.

She claims it was just
the usual mistress toys--

Million-dollar condo,
convertible,

and just for fun,
his and hers... these.

Mm, is that
what I think it is?

If you think it's a shot of
women's breasts, it is.

- Mm.
- That's the, uh--

- that's the "after" photo.
- Ow, whoa.

That's one way
to engender loyalty.

Hers or yours, Stan?

The point is, given Ali's
obvious personal investment,

I strongly suspect he's
divulged more than pillow talk.

Business dealings, contacts,
that's where Grace comes in.

I don't know, the woman
isn't easy to pin down.

She's got a way.

I guess that's
how her Albuquerque place

wound up with a jacuzzi and
marble countertops?

The marble
was a free upgrade.

The market was down,
the agent was desperate.

You done?
'Cause I am.

I'm done with wait and see.

In terms of pressuring Grace,
getting her to roll,

- I'm on the clock.
- Not a problem,

- I'll bring her in.
- I got it. It's cool.

No, you got plenty
on your plate, I got this.

- No worries, chief.
- Fellas...

I've set three appointments
with the woman

resulting
in three no-shows.

I need to see her.

I don't care
who drives the limo,

just get her to the prom.

I heard this lame-ass,
late-night radio shrink once

who claimed
he could tell everything

about you from the car
you drive--

Your education, or lack thereof,
your income, race.

He even had a best-guess at
the busyness of your sex life,

or lack thereof.

Everything you are,
reduced to make, model,

and the choice
of air freshener

hanging from your rearview.

Guy gets an advanced degree in

"you are what you own"
t-shirt wisdom.

His parents must be proud.

Whoa, wait.

That's what they're
gonna drive the kid around in?

Some junked-out background car

from
the Texas Chainsaw Massacre?

Mary,
your concern is normal.

But I assure you, when
we place children with families,

no stone goes unturned
in terms of their safety.

- Well...
- Even the cars.

No, no, I'm sorry.
But do you know what's safe?

Volvos, minivans
with a billion air bags,

and flip-down TV screens,
and fermenting juice boxes.

- That's safe.
- Look, it's not uncommon

for birth mothers
to start finding fault with

the family they've chosen.

Adoption's version
of buyer's remorse.

Forget buyer's remorse.
Look at that thing.

That's dumpster-fire ugly.
I've puked prettier.

The templetons use the truck
for the landscaping business

they run on the side.

They're really talented.

Their backyard's just great.

Well, you'll see next week
when you meet them.

Yeah, listen, I was--

I was thinking maybe
we revisit that whole,

you know,
meet-me-in-person thing.

Mary, the anxiety
you're feeling is natural.

But meeting potential
adoptive families

is an important
part of the process.

So I need you
to level with me.

Are you in this with
this family?

Yes.
No, I mean, I'm in fully.

- Yeah.
- Good.

I'll call them today,
and you right after.

- Good enough?
- Good, yes.

Good.

I'll call you.

Okay.

Brandi, for the millionth time,
I'm on it.

Okay, it's the final week.

The rehearsal dinner's
when everything gets,

you know, really... real.

Are you sure you
have everything covered?

Yes, 100%.
It's under control.

Okay.
Oh, and one more thing.

Mark facebooked me
this morning.

He was asking about you.

He's gonna be
in town this weekend.

- Brandi, no.
- What?

He's not
coming to the wedding.

Hey, what are you doing?

Look, don't get
all Julie McCoy on me.

Okay, this
isn't The Love Boat,

there's not gonna be
a double wedding.

I know.

I'm not.
It's just...

For whatever it's worth,
Mark's different.

He's changed.

And I think,
under the circumstances--

Brandi, tell me
you didn't tell him.

Brandi.

I didn't tell him
about the baby.

Or that it's his.

Good, let's keep it
that way.

Hey, I gotta go.

Hey.

Hey, still
doing adoption stuff?

Yeah.
No.

It's unreal.
It's like I swallowed a pygmy.

What's up?
Feel like meeting up?

The A.U.S.A.
Wants a word with Grace,

thought I'd swing over.

Huh, America's number-one
concubine/drug mule?

Party girl's been
pretty quiet lately.

You need a chaperone?

I thought 3,000 square feet
was a little much

for one person, but
you kinda get used to it.

Huh?
Oh, is that right?

Congratulations,
by the way.

Well!
I mean, likewise.

Marble countertops,
really?

The market's down.

Stan cut a deal
with the landlord.

Sugar daddy McQueen
strikes again.

So, Grace, you've
cancelled on A.U.S.A. Boswell

a couple of times.

Is everything okay?

Oh, completely.

It's just, this job
you guys got me,

I mean, it's great
and everything,

but it's kind
of a lot of hours.

But I'm not complaining.

The money in time shares,
you can't believe it.

I don't believe it...

I mean, considering you haven't
been to the office for weeks.

I do everything online.

Yeah, back off, Serpico.

It's okay, Marshall.

I'm straight as an arrow.

I haven't touched that stuff

since I put Vegas
in my rearview.

I'm clean.
Pure as the driven snow.

Then you won't mind
if I rifle through your purse.

- Mary.
- Rifle away.

My life's an open book.

Ah.
And that book...

Is that
Valley of the Dolls?

They're vitamins.

Ugh, you actually
swallow these things?

Yeah.
You wanna watch?

No.

Hey, Grace,
is it just me or are you

looking a little
more voluptuous than usual?

Uh.

- Voluptuous?
- Yeah, voluptuous.

Okay, I'll say it,
I'm uncomfortable.

Me too.

Get up, Grace.

- Mary?
- Get up.

Now drop the blanket.

Nice work, eagle eye.

Since 1970, the Federal
Witness Protection Program

has relocated
thousands of witnesses--

some criminal, some not--

to neighborhoods
all across the country.

Every one of those individuals
shares a unique attribute

distinguishing them from the
rest of the general population.

And that is,
somebody wants them dead.

♪ ♪

Our concern is your safety.

If Ali finds out
you're pregnant with his child,

his search for you
goes into overdrive.

Ali isn't the father.

Uh-huh.

Were you
not sleeping with him?

Uh, he's infertile.

Shooting blanks.

His guys can't swim.

And he just
volunteered that?

No, we were together
on and off for two years.

Protection wasn't something
that I needed to worry about.

Ali was my protection...
In more ways than one.

But I'm guessing
you weren't exclusive.

There were
a handful of others.

Look,
I know how this sounds.

We're not here
to judge you, Grace.

Could've fooled me.

We're here to keep you safe.
You and your baby.

You live up
to your end of the deal,

we live up to ours.

I want that, okay?
I do.

It's just...
This is all so...

Overwhelming.

You know, you should've
told us you were pregnant.

It might've helped.

He just means
it explains a lot.

The cancelled meetings
and all that.

- If we'd have known--
- Well, I didn't even know

until I was weeks into
the program.

Look, I kept getting sick.

But I thought
I was just coming down,

you know, off of the coke
and stuff.

By the time I figured it out,
I was too far along.

Now I'm just--

I mean, besides the fact
that I look like a house--

I'm like a gated community.

I am completely alone.

Pregnant?

Six months as your witness,
and that escaped your notice?

Yeah.

Even I can spot them
faster than that.

Oh, yeah,
I remember it well.

You called me an elephant
in a parking garage.

I don't know what to say.
She worked hard to conceal it.

Measured weight gain,
baggy clothes--

you idiot.
You were blinded by boob.

Tippy's sticking a pin
in putting the screws to Grace,

at least until
we run paternity.

He's not big on surprises,

so let's get
the baby thing sorted out.

Sort all you want,
but paternity's not the point.

- She's working an angle.
- Not necessarily.

Mistakes happen.
You kept your own situation

- a secret for quite some time--
- He's gonna drop the H-bomb.

- I find your attitude somewha--
- Three, two--

- hypocritical.
- Perfect.

What, because we
both have a bun in the oven,

now we're simpatico?

I thought you were supposed
to be Mr. "no two snowflakes"?

Grace is
a recovering drug addict

who's been taken care of
her whole life,

and now she needs
taking care of more than ever.

And what,
if we don't provide it,

she'll turn
to someone who will?

Maybe.
And by the way,

the bun in the oven is
about to be our witness too.

Grace was partying hard before
she knew she was pregnant,

and all she's done since is
go to the free clinic

- a handful of times.
- He's right, Mary.

She's gonna need help
with the pregnancy.

This is
a legitimate safety issue...

- For both of them.
- Fine.

But if you two think
you're getting the whole story,

then her boobs
are bigger than mine.

All right, now, Tippy's
working on the court order

for Tahvalli's DNA
to check on paternity.

And Mary, you're a woman.

Last time I checked.

So you'll deal
with the pregnancy stuff.

Uh, are we sure
that's a good idea?

What?
What, we don't think

I'm just a bit
more qualified for this one?

Of course,
but given the delicacy

of this recent development--

You get a look at her?
It's not that recent.

And your willingness
to rush to judgment

on all things Grace,
perhaps what appears

the ideal choice for this
witness is,

in fact,
decidedly less so.

Oh, my God.
What are you talking about?

You can't stand Grace.

Well, I'm immune to cleavage,
if that's what you mean.

All right,
enough, enough.

I want her in front of a doctor
by the end of the day.

Mary, you'll go along as her,
you know, partner, whatever.

- Great.
- I'm fine with that.

Oh, you're fine with that?

Of course you're fine
with that.

It's Christmas.

It's a girl-on-girl twist
to your pregnancy fetish.

Where are you going?

Oh, Grace's.

I've got a tickle fight
in 20 minutes,

completely slipped my mind.

Don't worry.
We'll take pictures.

Huh.

Oh, wanna hold hands?

What do you think?

Well, we're supposed
to be a couple.

We are a couple.

We're a frigid, angry couple
who conceived two children

semi-simultaneously
in a last-ditch attempt

to re-ignite a spark
long ago snuffed out.

Did our age difference
have anything to do with it?

No hand-holding,
no wistful glances.

That might work
on the mindless gomers

you and your C-cups
leave in their wake,

but you're not getting any
marble countertops

out of me,
so save it.

Jeez.
I got it, okay?

Look, I know this
isn't an easy time for you.

Okay, believe me, I know.

It's just,
I have nothing.

No family.

No home.

My baby isn't even
gonna have a father.

Yeah, well.
No matter what,

your baby will be better off

without a mob boss
behind the stroller.

- Hi.
- Hi.

Hi, Grace.
I'm Dr. Perez.

So first thing's first,
I'd like to start by discussing

any concerns you might have
about your pregnancy.

A week?
What do you mean a week?

She's due in a week.

Grace isn't eight
months pregnant, she's nine.

Hey, she was only
off by one.

- Yeah, details.
- Wow, so she's full-term.

Braxton Hicks contractions
have probably started up.

Odds are the baby's
already dropped into the pelvis.

So gross.

Why do you know more
about this crap than I do?

You're like the
six-foot-something dork edition

of What to expect
when you're expecting.

Which is why
today's paperwork included

signing you and Grace up
for Lamaze class tomorrow.

No, come on, I told you.

I don't wanna learn
how to pant like a dog

and watch a video
of someone else's hoo-hah

- going all slasher movie.
- According to this paperwork,

though, looks like you are.
Marshall.

- Mary.
- Mary.

Ah, Marshall,
hate to say it, gotta go.

Holy crap, did you go
to Costco or purchase Costco?

Mary, the dinner's
in three days.

You haven't bought a thing.

What's to buy?
Deli platters, check.

I mean,
if I recall correctly,

we ordered an ass-load
of sandwiches.

I told you, it's covered.

Peter's family,
they're all foodies.

- I'm a foodie.
- Okay, well...

They expect a lot
more than whatever that was.

God, why does
peanut butter taste

so much better from
the spoon?

Whoa, whoa, whoa.

Is that what I think it is?

It's beer.
For the party.

It's Mark's beer,
Yuengling.

So?

So you used to
steal it out of the back

of his Yugo
in the eighth grade.

Oh, my God.

You invited him.

No, I did not.

The dinner is
posted on my event page.

I'm sure he saw it, but
he did not say a word about it.

Brandi, think.

If Mark shows up, hello!

Look, I didn't invite him,
and he's not showing up.

But if you're
feeling this guilty about it,

maybe you should make
a phone call or something.

He's the father.
He has a right to know.

And I bought lots of beer.

What?

In a traditional
Japanese Soba House,

high-volume slurpage
is de rigueur.

Paternity results,
anyone?

- Ah.
- Thank you, sir.

Nice job, warp-speed.

Yeah, it's
good to be the king.

So previous arrest files
had Tahvalli's DNA blood work.

Compared it with
Grace's prenatal tests,

and paternity just got pushed
past the shadow of a doubt.

So the target
of your investigation

sired a child with
our witness.

Which makes custody
an issue.

Are you kidding me?

Notifying Tahvalli
is way too dangerous.

If we put him in
the same room with Grace,

let alone give
the guy visitation rights--

What are you
suggesting, inspector?

I'm suggesting
the man's a criminal,

and what he doesn't know
won't kill him.

WITSEC protocol.
We gotta tell him.

Yeah, the precedent was
established back in the '80s.

Career criminal
figures out his pregnant ex

is likely in WITSEC,
he sues the federal government

for kidnapping his unborn son.

Asshole won.
We had to arrange visitation.

Okay, so say
we arrange visitation,

and say Tahvalli, by some
miracle, doesn't kill Grace,

you know
where this could go.

Yeah, Ali makes
a sales pitch to Grace,

she takes the deal,
36 hours later,

they're happily ensconced
in some island cabana somewhere

sucking down frozen mojitos.

Exactly.

What can I say?
It's a risk.

But our hands are tied.

Here.

Slurp on that.

And relax.

Each breath takes you

deeper and deeper
into your body.

And remember,
even the little things--

a simple stroke
of your partner's hair

can really soothe her
and help create

a wonderful
and perfect birth memory.

- I bet.
- Give it a try.

Oh, yeah.
No, I don't need to--

Oh, okay, uh-huh.

- Isn't that nice?
- That is.

That's really, really nice.
It is.

- How am I doing, sweetie?
- You're doing great.

You're a natural.

Yeah, well, two years
of coked-up sex with a drug lord

kinda makes you an expert

on the whole
in-through-the-nose thing.

Grace, shh!
Be smart.

I'm just kidding.

For the record,
I am smart.

Before I met Ali, I was
a linguistics major at UNLV.

Yeah, fine, okay, whatever.
Just keep it down.

We shouldn't even be having
this conversation here.

All I'm saying is
that I had a plan, okay?

- A future.
- Yeah.

Well, now you've got two.

Look, Grace...

You've probably
got a million things

going through
your head right now,

but if adoption's
one of them,

we can refer you to
a great agency.

Who says
I don't wanna keep him?

In just a moment,
those of you planning

a water birth will come
with me to the pool.

There must be some mistake.

Your attorney has the results.
There's no mistake.

Grace is carrying your child.

My wife and I have undergone
years of fertility treatment.

She would like nothing more
than to be a mother.

I could buy her anything.

Well, almost anything.

Gentlemen, much
as we appreciate you

bringing this development
to our attention,

- can we get to it?
- Get to what?

Your rights.

My client being a person of
interest in your case

does not abrogate his right
to pursue custody of the child.

No one's arguing that.

Your client has lots
of rights for the time being.

One of them is to decide
what it is he wants to do,

and quickly.

The baby's due this week.

It'd be best
to notify the mother

of your decision
prior to the birth--

give her time
to pursue adoption,

if you
waive parental rights.

We'll take that
into account.

But this is a major
life decision for my client.

He's going to need time

to discuss the matter
with his wife.

There will
be no discussion.

I've made up my mind.

Yep.
Okay, great.

Tahvalli doesn't want
the baby.

He's worried about
how the Mrs. will react.

Yeah, well, ten years of
unsuccessful fertility attempts

topped off by him
knocking up his coke whore?

- I'd be worried too.
- This place is amazing.

It's got lollipops
on the walls.

- Oh, those are balloons.
- Oh, my God.

Look at you, all geeked out over
crib mobiles and baby monitors.

It's not even your kid.

It's not
even yours adjacent,

and you're
practically lactating.

No, I'm simply guaranteeing
the safety of a witness who,

short of a full-on show
of support

at a time
of extreme vulnerability,

may well look for
said support elsewhere.

Does dad need
help making a choice?

Oh, yeah.
No, I know he looks super old,

but he's not my dad.

We would love some assistance.

Mother and I are looking for
the audio infant monitor 8000.

- I don't see it here.
- Let me check in back.

Mother?
Ease up, Norman Bates.

Um... listen.

We don't have to get
into this if you don't want,

but all this with
the Templeton's, the adoption,

that's all... set in stone?

Are you serious?

Oh, my God, get in line.

Tell Brandi and Jinx
I say hi.

Hey, I just thought,
I don't know,

this Grace situation
might've churned up

- some second thoughts for you.
- Well, obviously,

it's churned up
some second thoughts for you.

You clearly think
I'm making a bad decision.

No, just a hard one.

Look, whatever you're going
to do, I have total faith

that it'll be the right thing
for you, for everyone.

But it's hard
for me to stand here

and go on about being here
for Grace no matter what

without making it clear that
the same thing goes for you,

times ten.

No matter what.

Marshall, I just--

Hey, Stan,
what do you got?

Oh, seriously?

Okay, you wanna
tell her yourself?

Stan?

Coward.

Tell me what?
Spit it out.

No, no, no, no.
Why are you smiling?

Because Grace is in labor.

- Grace?
- Yes.

- Is in labor?
- Still yes.

And I really have
to help with all that?

Well, I'd do it myself,

but you know,
you are more qualified.

No, no, no!
No, I'm not, I'm not qualified.

I'm unqualified!

No, no! We only
had one breathing class,

and I barely paid attention.

Marshall!

All I know is
the stroking her hair part.

God!

Ow, ow, ow.

Mary says
Grace's contractions

are two to three
minutes apart.

She's 8-centimeters dilated,

100% effaced.

What, did you tag along
to Lamaze class?

No, and technically
it's called the Bradley method.

How's she doing in there?

I'm going to say
not so great.

Make it stop.

Stop, stop it.
She wants it to stop.

- Agh!
- Hey, hey,

can we get some
more drugs over here?

Okay, Grace,
the baby's coming now,

it's too late for more meds.

I need you
to just keep pushing.

Agh!
Make it stop!

Okay, I don't want
to alarm you,

but the baby's feeling
a little stressed.

We need him to come out now.

So I'm gonna ask you to
push a lot harder.

Give it all
you've got, okay?

- What's happening?
- What's that mean, stressed?

The baby's heart rate
is slowing down.

We need to get him
delivered as soon as possible.

Your job is to
keep Grace calm, got it?

- Okay, yeah, yeah.
- You doin' all right?

I don't know if
I can handle a doubleheader.

No, no, I'm good.
I've got this.

I got this.
I got it. I'm good.

- Mary, I'm scared.
- Oh, you're scared.

- I'm scared, Mary.
- Grace, you're gonna be fine.

You're gonna be fine.
She said you're gonna be fine.

Just breathe, okay?
Just focus and breathe.

Okay, just look, look, look,
look.

- Do it with me.
- I'll do it with you, yes.

Stroke the hair,
breathe in, breathe in.

And out.

See?

See?
That's working, right?

- No, it isn't!
- No, it isn't. No, it isn't.

It's not working.
You two are doing great.

Grace, we're gonna
help you out with this,

but the baby's head
is having a little trouble

clearing
the birth canal, okay?

- Oh, my God.
- I need you to push hard

when I tell you.
Hey! Look at me!

Look at me!

Okay?
Mary.

Okay, it's gonna be fine.
I can do this in my sleep.

She does it in her sleep!

She does it in her sleep.
It's nothing.

- Don't hold back.
- No, don't hold back.

Don't hold back, okay?
Look at me, Grace.

You're doing great.
Okay.

Okay, okay.

Good.
Grace, one more push.

- I can't. I can't.
- Yes, you can. Yes, you can.

- Look at me.
- Mary.

- Come on! Come on!
- One more. It's good.

Hard push.
Now, push!

Okay, there we go.

Oh, got it.

- Sweet Jesus.
- Is he okay?

Is everying okay?

Oh, your baby's great!

He's great.
A healthy baby boy.

Oh, my God, thank you.

- You wanna cut the cord?
- No, I'm good.

Good job, mom.

Oh, I'm not the mom.
I mean I'm--thanks.

'Cause I took Lamaze
and all this--

Oh, my God.

You are perfect!

- We did it, Mary.
- Yeah.

Thank you.

Yeah, we did it.

Oh, shh, it's okay.

Hey.

How you doing?
You okay?

Oh, yeah, aside
from the labor-induced PTSD,

I feel like 100 bucks.

Was it really that awful?

Yes.

Yes, it was really
that awful.

I mean, I guess on
some level it's amazing.

You know, it's
a miracle and all that.

The whole person
coming out of another person.

Like a little
Russian nesting doll.

Yeah.

Mostly I'd say
it was just... gross.

So she's keeping him?

Yeah, WITSEC
gets a baby after all.

Am I crazy to think
that she might have it in her

to be a good mother?

People change.
And with enough support--

Hey, after
what I just witnessed,

I think she's
capable of anything.

How bad was it?

Two words--
zombie, goiter.

Hello?

What?
No.

No, no, what do you mean?

Oh, Christ.
Yeah, we're on our way.

Come on, we're going
to the hospital.

- Grace or the baby?
- Neither, both.

They're gone.

The baby's security anklet
set off the alarm

and the staff called code pink

for a missing newborn,
but it was too late.

They wait this long
to let us know?

What the hell's
code pink around here?

Sending out
the guy with the mop

to look both ways
in the parking lot?

Eh, staff didn't
see anything suspicious

in the maternity ward?
Anything out of the ordinary?

Mary's checking
security footage.

Maybe she's had some luck.

Yeah?

Hey.

When?
Got it.

It's Tippy.

FBI's been surveilling
Tahvalli in Vegas.

Guess who just
hopped a plane to Santa Fe?

The guy's not
seriously that stupid.

They'll pick up the tail
on this end of the flight.

If he had someone grab Grace,
he'll lead us right to them.

He wants the kid.

Grace is worse than
useless to him alive.

If he grabbed her,
it won't be for long.

He didn't even have a name yet.

Hey.

At 11:02, the baby was taken
to Grace's room for a feeding.

At 11:32, a nurse
checks on Grace and the baby,

everything's fine.

Four minutes later,
the nurse and an orderly leave.

And at 11:38,
all hell breaks loose.

Newborn and his mother.
I mean, who does that?

No other access point
in or out?

No, just the one door.

Windows don't open,
no sign of forced entry.

It's like they just
walked him out.

Hey, back it up.

The orderly went in once.

- Does this thing zoom?
- Mm-hmm.

- Don't tell me.
- He left twice.

Second time with a bundle
of sheets in a rolling cart.

That's Grace.
And this isn't a baby grab.

- Son of a bitch.
- It's not kidnapping,

but Tahvalli's
in New Mexico, why?

Doing what he does best,
making a deal.

Nine months in,
she hands over the kid

to this piece of sewage for
a stack of 20s 10-feet tall.

She's been blackmailing Ali
for the rights to his son.

Guess her idea of being
a good mom is getting paid.

Tahvalli just landed
in Santa fe.

FBI said he's headed over

to an industrial area
west of the airport.

One of his associates
has a junkyard out there,

not exactly high-end,
and it's out of the way.

- Good place for a swap.
- And-or dump a body.

- Mary, you know you can't.
- You wanna bet?

Go check out Grace's house,
see what you can turn up.

We'll get the baby back,
I promise.

♪ ♪

Where's my son?

I want my son.

I'm the key witness
against your guys, Ali,

and you want me dead.

You think I'm gonna
bring the kid with me?

- Here's the deal--
- We have a deal!

Negotiated over months.

My flesh and blood.

You think I can't
acquire him legally?

Go the legal route.
So will I.

But no worries, your son can
visit you in prison

on alternating wednesdays.

You have nothing but balls
and the ability to bluff.

Here's
how it's gonna work.

♪ ♪

After the cash checks out,

you'll wire an additional
1.5 to an offshore account

every year until he turns 18.

That's not
what we agreed upon.

Everything I know
about your operation,

every conversation
I've documented,

and it's tucked away
in a safety deposit box.

If the wires stop,

or if I end up in
the bottom of a lake somewhere,

the bank will send my
little care package to the feds,

and you'll spend
the rest of your life

- reaching for your loafers.
- What are you doing?

This was settled!
Six months of negotiations!

Two years of conversations.

I heard every word.

It's a miracle
I didn't die of boredom.

You know nothing!

- Where is my son?
- You're flesh and blood, Ali.

How's my accent?

"The language of your business."
That's what you called it.

That's all I needed to hear.

I started learning Farsi
right away.

All I had to do
was just sit there,

pretending
not to understand.

Just looking pretty.

Well... not just.

I mean, the whole baby thing,
that was just a lucky bounce.

"Little bitch"?

Is that the way
you're gonna speak

- to the mother of your child?
- I'm done speaking.

U.S. marshals!
Drop it! Drop it!

- Drop your weapon!
- Drop it!

Put it down!

Drop your weapon!

Someday you're
gonna meet your son, Ali.

You really wanna tell him
you shot his mother?

Come on.

Get him out of here,
come on.

- Gonna check the vehicle.
- Where's the baby?

Oh, my God,
he was gonna kill me.

Don't start.
Where's the baby?

He was gonna kill me,
Marshall.

Where's the baby, Grace?

U.S. Marshals!
Que está pasando!

Cálmate, policías!

Clear.

- No fue mi culpa.
- Oh, my God.

No fue mi culpa.

Are you kidding me?

Some of us aren't
cut out to be mothers.

You know what I mean.

I know exactly
what you mean.

Get her out of here.

Can I at least
say good-bye?

You already did.

- Come on.
- I got her.

Good.

Yeah, good.
Come on.

Okay.

Okay, yeah.

It's okay.
It's okay.

Yeah.
Hey.

Okay.

Well, don't even
think about it, pal.

You're barking up
the wrong boob.

Leonard?

He's a baby.

He's not a retired CPA
from Scranton.

Well, Lubinowitzes
have been trying

to adopt for years, Mary,

and your placement counselor
made an excellent choice.

Yeah,
but "Leonard Lubinowitz"?

That's an ass-kicking
at recess.

Oh, well, guess it beats
the alternative.

The alternative
is facing federal charges

for human trafficking.

Turns out Grace had been
working Tahvalli from day one.

Baby went from a bump in
the road to a bargaining chip.

God, that's
just reprehensible.

- Using a newborn like a--
- Pawn?

Like a pawn, right.
But not even.

It blows right past "how do
you sleep at night" territory

and straight into
the heart of darkness.

Ah, at long last,
the spell is broken.

Welcome back, Serpico.

Was I susceptible
to her shop-worn attempts

to sexualize
our professional relationship?

- Hardly.
- What?

She was a witness,
same as any other.

Please.

She played that whole
femme-bot fatale thing to a tee,

and you bit on it hard.

You guys are so easy.
Honestly, I don't even know

how you walk around
with those things.

What, that last part?
That was awkward?

Good news is Grace
will be femme-bot fatale-ing

in prison
for the next 10 to 15.

And Tippy got his guy,
so he's happy.

Ah, well,
as long as Tippy's happy.

Yeah.

So...

So what?

So, still holding firm
on the Templetons?

Oh, yeah,
right, Marshall.

'Cause cradling a newborn
for 30 seconds

turned my whole world
upside-down.

Then why keep the picture?

This?
This is evidence.

Ah, for the report,
right.

Good thinking.

Marshall, seriously.
Look at his face.

It's like a Pug
got tossed in the dryer.

They say you
can't buy happiness.

What you can buy are
the trappings of happiness.

Sports cars, mansions,
friends in high places

or in low ones,
depending on the view.

But all we truly own,
ultimately and everlastingly,

are the various people in
our messy lives.

This often has
little to do with happiness.

This is Mrs. Anders

with the Mountain States
Adoption Ggency.

Please leave
a message at the tone.

Mary.

Mom says
there's a storm coming.

Mm-hmm.

What's up?

You get some bad news?

No, I just...

Cancelled my meeting
with the Templetons.

It's the adoptive family.

What does that mean,
"cancelled"?

I don't know.
I just...

Well, all I know is
I don't need to know tonight.

And I know that there's about
10,000 deli sandwiches out there

that aren't
gonna eat themselves.

I'm fine.
Really.

Okay.

I'm gonna go check on
the centerpieces.

Yes, good.

♪ ♪

- Oh, my God.
- Oh, my God.

You've gotta be kidding.

You've gotta be kidding.

- Is that a baby?
- What? That?

No, that's a basketball.

It's just, you know,
easier to carry this way.

Frees up the hands.

Right.

Wow.

Guess I should
say congratulations.

Yeah.
Guess I should, too.

That's mine?

Actually, it's mine.

Well...

Ours.

Okay.

Yep.

Well...

This complicates things.

You think?

No, I mean, I was gonna
take you bungee jumping.

- I have a coupon.
- Mark.

Why are you even here?

I was in town,
I haven't seen you in months,

and I can't get you
out of my mind.

Yeah, well,
this probably isn't

exactly what
you had in mind.

No, but I gotta
tell you, you look--

Mark, please,
please, don't.

Okay, you don't need
to say anything.

Just--

You know, maybe
I need you to say something.

You've been pregnant
with my baby all these months

and you don't even tell me?

I'm sorry.
Look, forgive me for

not thinking you're the
poster child of dependability.

- You don't even know me.
- I know enough.

Not if you think
I'm gonna bail

on being there
for you and this kid.

Wh-wha--
Mark, okay, look.

Okay, I am-- I'm 20 minutes away
from playing hostess

to a mess of people
in my backyard.

And I hate the idea of
playing hostess

almost as much as I hate the
idea of people in my backyard.

And I just
cancelled an appointment

with quite possibly the
sweetest couple in the world,

and all they wanna do is provide
a happy life for this baby

who's put
a pretty big crimp in mine.

And now you
show up plagiarizing Cusack

and say you're gonna be
there for this kid?

I am.

I don't even know that
I'm gonna be there for this kid!

Then I'll be there for that.

I know you're pissed,
but I'm glad I came.

Because this,
whether you think so or not,

is amazing, Mary.

And you're beautiful.

You're God-damned glowing.

I'm sweating.
That's sweat.

Mark...

I mean, what do you want?

Honestly...

What do you want?

I don't know, okay?
I don't know what I want.

But it sounds
like you don't either.

But I do know
that I care about you,

and that you
could use some help,

and I'm grateful
that you let me in.

'Cause I've been
traveling all day

and I could seriously
use the John.

You're an ass.

And you really are so...

Sweaty.

You know you got
the song wrong, right?

I mean, that wasn't even
Peter Gabriel.

I know, because I
couldn't find a cassette, okay?

And it doesn't
play mp3s, obviously.

And they wouldn't let me
check it on the airline.

You know, things don't
always go according to plan.

You're telling me.

If I don't go to
the bathroom right now--

- Go, please.
- Yes, okay.

I'll get you a beer.

A beer-- awesome--
or whiskey, whatever.

I've gotta stop drinking.