Angel and LaGuerta wait for the elevator and feign professional niceties, practically counting down the seconds until they can talk for real. But of course, the elevator doors can't quite shut before Masuka barges on in. "Drinks?" he asks. LaGuerta doesn't have to scream in frustration, her bright-pink jacket does it for her.
In the lab, Dexter's voice-over grouses that after his cop altercation, he can no longer nab Gomez outside the bar. He's gonna have to snatch him where he lives, in that crowded trailer park. "A higher degree of difficulty," Dex allows, but he'll have to do it, if only for his son's sake. "I'm killing for two now." It's a cute sentiment, but I'm hoping Dexter elaborates on that as the season goes on, because I'm not sure I follow. He's not killing to support his son, of course. You could say he's not getting caught for the sake of his son -- it's not just his life that'd be over now. That makes a kind of twisted sense, I suppose.
Cut to the trailer park that night. No special precautions or elaborate diversions to keep the riff-raff occupied. Just a knock on Gomez's door and a swift syringe to the neck when he answers it. In the plastic boxing tent, Dexter's got everything laid out for the ritual, including Gomez. Photos of Gomez's victims along his eye-line. Tools at the ready. Sleepy Dexter envies his passed-out prey for a moment, before slapping his face and cracking open some poppers (!) to keep himself awake. My stars. Where in Miami did Dexter ever get his hands on poppers? I don't know if they'll make him any more effective a killer tonight, but his asshole's gonna feel amazing!
Anyway, so Dexter looks like a total zombie by the time Gomez comes to. He recognizes Dex from the courtroom, not like that matters. Dexter collects his blood sample, stuffs a rag in his mouth, and then sits down for a Final Thought. "Can I do it?" he asks himself. "Can I have it all?" Can bring home a victim's severed forearm and fry it up in a pan? Before he can actually get the killing finished and have a good night's sleep, at long last, the phone rings. It's Rita. Harrison has an ear infection, and she needs him to go to a 24/7 pharmacy right away. Dexter's kind of in the middle of something, but of course he can't elaborate. "Whatever you're doing can wait," she says, not exactly bitchily, just short and without room for discussion. "Gotta go," Dex tells Gomez. "No time to savor this."