Masters: "Wait, what?"
Scully: "Will you come with me to St. Louis?"
Masters: "As long as I get to blackmail you for being gay in like twenty years, sure."
Barton left the kitchen, because he knew somehow that Bill couldn't stand to be looked at just then. He wept, the second Scully's back was turned, like a boy; like a sick skeleton, a living breathing allegory of Want.
After burning that relationship to the ground, Bill just wants to retreat into the serene, surreal picture of his home life, where nothing ever changes; it's a wing for his ego. But when he gets there, Libby's shining brighter than the sun. And when she puts a martini in his hand, and congratulates him, and calls him daddy once again, for a moment he doesn't want anything at all.
He is always hungry; sometimes he needs reminding. His life, until this moment, was a vacation, a safari. A still life, that never changed; this was by design. This is his reward.
Arriving at about the midpoint of Libby's pregnancy, we find ourselves jumped to a new status quo: Bill's mother's in town opening cans of worms all over the place, Gini's charming/deadbeat ex-husband wants in on the study, and Libby tries to set Ethan up with Gini.
JACOB CLIFTON is a freelance writer and critic based in Austin, Texas. He currently recaps The Good Wife, Homeland, Hostages, Ravenswood, and Masters Of Sex for TWoP. Jacob can be found online at jacobclifton.com, Twitter, and Facebook, as well as a regular column for Tor.com, Geek Love.