Shameless

For those of you who are too fucking busy,

here's what happened last week on Shameless.

Fuck it.

Is Dom here?

I was thinking you and me...

Yeah. Okay.

I cannot get visa with my husband in prison.

What if you divorce Mickey

and somebody else marries you?

Oh.

Fiona, will you marry me?

Yeah.

What's this?

Hey, Frankie, baby.

We're off to the commune.

That sounds nice. Are we taking the van?

I like having a purpose,

studying to be an EMT.

Feels like I'm back to my old self.

Meaning...

Skeletons. Closet.

- I'm bipolar. - I'm HIV positive.

- Oh. - You haven't been tested?

No.

Hair of the dog?

When's the last time you stopped for a couple of hours?

Try it. Hydrate.

Get a good night's sleep.

By morning, you'll be as good as new.

- -

What the fuck?

I'd rather be riddled with bullets

than spend one more hour in this place.

These people care about me and my baby.

This is where I want to raise my child.

There's something you should see.

Here we are.

You're farming opium?

It's beautiful.

Aah! This hurts so much!

Queenie!

Aah!

Hey. Are you all right?

I think I felt something.

Like a cramp.

Did it hurt?

I'm not due for another week.

Mother nature knows no clock.

Orgasms can induce.

I'm surprised the baby didn't pop out days ago,

the way you've been strumming your guitar.

A-am I in labor?

Is the baby coming?

No, just relax.

Not for a while, okay?

But still, I think we should go.

Go where?

To the birthing tent.

Oh.

What a beautiful day to grow poppies.

Whoo-hoo!

You're lucky that cat couldn't aim for shit.

Careful, once cougars get a taste,

they come back for more.

Not too much, Moon.

Frank.

You're supposed to be working compost.

You spend the day in a steaming pile of excrement.

I'll be in here with the opium.

I run the warehouse.

I thought we share everything on the commune.

Opium, compost, Queenie.

Except when it comes to orgasms.

Those Queenie only shares with me.

Do you want some constructive criticism?

- No. - You put Queenie to sleep.

There's no rhythm.

Your penis is like a sexual lullaby.

You got to treat a woman like a poppy.

Know when to be gentle,

and when to be rough.

Give 'em what they need,

you'll have the best high you ever had.

What's with the slumber party?

Oh. The babies awake?

Not yet. You didn't come to bed.

Oh, we were celebrating, and I fell asleep.

- Celebrating what? - I get divorce.

- Woot woot! -

The papers came through. Lana is single.

Mm!

Lana?

Yes, what V calls me.

What, you have a pet name for her?

- It helps sell it. - Sell what?

Our loving dyke relationship.

No. No, no, no, no, no.

We dropped the whole marriage idea.

- You drop. - I'm not talking to you.

V, marriage is a sacred institution.

It's just for immigration.

You're talking about being married to another person.

- You are. - Yeah, okay, so?

But--look, you and I aren't married on paper, right?

But that doesn't change how I feel.

Me neither. It's not a big deal.

Give blessing. Is least you can do.

Hey, you the one who outed her to the INS.

Stop ganging up on me.

There are other options besides marriage.

What? Immigration is gonna put her

back on the next boat to Moscow.

- I'll figure it out. - No time.

I'll fix it by the end of the day, okay?

Just...no more pet names.

Found more newspaper.

Uh, wrap the frames in it.

Is that Sean's shirt?

Yeah.

You're supposed to be packing it.

Meeting my girlfriend for breakfast.

I didn't know you two were official.

She told her dad. He flipped out.

Dads can be protective sometimes,

but he'll be all right when he meets you.

He already did.

Well, how'd it go?

Chased me with a bat.

I found a spot out front.

I didn't have to double-park the U-Haul.

Think I know where to get a wedding dress.

- Oh, yeah? - Mm-hmm.

I'm gonna stop by some florists later, too.

And a reception hall, if I have the time.

Wow, you're really going all out.

I'm fucking happy that I got it right this time.

I want to celebrate it right.

It's all your fault.

You did this to me.

Sorry.

Better not be having second thoughts.

No, it's too late. I sold my furniture.

I talked to Will.

And?

And he's happy to be my best man.

He, um, he's not that crazy about wearing a tux.

What about your ex?

Actually, she said she was happy for us.

Except the moving in part.

Well, we're gonna do a full sweep of the house

with a metal detector, right, Carl?

Yup, I'm gonna make sure it's a demilitarized zone.

So Nikole's got nothing to worry about.

Knock, knock.

Hi.

Just getting things ready

for the blessed day.

Ah, this is Fern, our midwife.

And she has delivered dozens of babies.

I look forward to guiding your child

on his journey out of your womb

into this beautiful world.

- Where's the bed? - Oh.

Mother nature never intended us

to give birth on a mattress.

Oh, what's that?

- Could use some Clorox. - Oh, no.

We leave that there on purpose.

Afterbirth.

It connects each delivery to the next,

like glorious links in a chain.

- - Queenie?

Got a minute?

- Oh, yeah. - You're leaving?

No, no, no, your baby is not coming out anytime soon.

You're in wonderful hands.

We can use this to time your contractions.

Ah, that's all right.

We'll just count out loud.

When is the last time you delivered a baby?

'83, I think.