Fringe TV Show - August - Fringe Recaps, Fringe Reviews, Fringe Episodes | TWoP

Aired 2009-11-19

We're in Boston, Massachusetts, according to the floaty letters over the city that must have been installed since the last time I was there. On what looks like a college campus, a hand pops open a normal-looking pocket watch, which reads five minutes and twenty seconds after nine. That same hand is then seen writing in a book, and you know the kind of writing I'm going to describe -- symbols, going from right to left, which don't look normal at all, unless you know how to read Observer-ese. A pair of folding opera glasses pop open, and we see through their magnified and graphically enhanced display, like Star Wars macrobinoculars but with better picture quality, as a bald man in a suit and a narrow-brimmed hat watches students through it, making more inscrutable notes in his journal. He takes an imperceptibly tiny sip from a thermos cup, checks his watch again, and looks through the binocs some more. "Nice specs," someone remarks from his elbow, and he turns to face the camera. For the first time, it's apparent that this is not The Observer we know and love (okay, actually we do neither), but merely an Observer, who dresses and acts and behaves just like him. The similarity extends all the way to the robotic mannerisms, but this one has a more angular face and ears that live on the side of his head rather than at the base of his jaw. "They're from somewhere far away," he explains to the speaker, a grizzled war veteran, then notices the man's collection box for war veterans. "I don't have any money," the observer (note the lack of capitalization) says, but the guy gives him an American flag pin anyway, attaching it neatly to his lapel. "Thank you," the observer spaces, and goes back to his Observing (note the return of the capitalization). Just in time, too, because he seems very interested in a smiling young brunette who's walking along the grounds. Going by her scarf and the partially braided hair, he's apparently Observing art students today. He starts packing up, revealing an incongruous teddy bear inside his briefcase as he does so. But oops, he left his journal on the table. Sloppy! Now just anyone who comes across it will be able to read his notes and learn that in just a few weeks, it will be the end of ROGAINE as we know it!

He catches up to the young woman and says, "Come with me, please," grabbing her by the arm. Despite his politeness, she tries to pull away. He doesn't let her, and she's in fact starting to get rather noisy about it. A dude yells, "Hey!" because bystanders always intervene on this show, if only just so we can see what the bad guys can and will do about it. In this case, the ex-Observer (because I think it's clear that at this point he's Observing fuck-all) draws what looks like an ordinary gun, but instead of a bang it gives a click like a camera flash, and the would-be hero is hurled dozens of feet backwards. Yeah, worst Observer ever. In fact, I think he just became The Initiator. General panic commences, but as everyone runs, The Initiator now has a clear path to where some cars are parked. He smashes the back passenger window of one of them, injects his victim in the back of the neck with some kind of needleless spray hypo that renders her instantly unconscious, and dumps her in the back of the car. Finally, here comes an armed campus security guy, ordering him to stop. The Initiator doesn't even dive for cover as the guard opens fire. Sure, when someone's shooting at him he gets all passive again. The Initiator gets in the car as the guard finishes emptying his gun at him. He hotwires it by pressing his thumb against the ignition lock, both of which glow briefly as the engine turns over, and drives off. His face, though still expressionless, is stretched a bit more tautly than before, which for an Observer is probably the equivalent of crying and filling his pants with something extremely spicy.

By M. Giant

Olivia's crashed out on her couch in her clothes, apparently having pulled an all-nighter. "Morning!" Ella chirps into her face, wearing a sweatshirt and holding a map to the amusement park they're apparently planning to visit that day. Like she's still been staying there all this time. But here's how long it's actually been since Ella's been on the show: I've never seen her before. Just saying. Olivia opens her eyes and smiles up at her rather than flailing blindly around for her niece's snooze button and possibly bloodying her nose in the process. She's looking forward to their day almost as much as Ella is, although it's quite clear that none of the park's four roller coasters will be involved, due to Olivia's fear of them. Which in Olivia's case is perfectly reasonable, because what's to keep William Bell from snatching her out of this reality in the middle of a double switchback corkscrew loop? But of course this is all moot, because Olivia's cell phone rings. About ten seconds into the call --during which Olivia's only words are "Dunham" and "Where?" Ellie catches the snap, and walks over to take off her sweatshirt. After Olivia gets off the call, she starts to make excuses, only to have Ellie understandingly say, "That's okay, Aunt Liv. I know you have an important job." Which is even more heartbreaking than protesting and whining would be. Olivia says she'll call the Jacobsons to ask if they can babysit, and promises to make pancakes. Does she have time for that before heading to the office? As a taxpayer, I hope she's using an instant mix.

By M. Giant

We get our first exterior shot of the Bishops' place, which turns out to be an entire house. Big one, too. Olivia has come over, confirming to Peter that they have eyewitness accounts of The Observer abducting someone, going by the eyewitness description of his suit and hat. "Quote, 'one of those old ones from the sixties,'" Olivia elaborates. As Peter puts his boots on, he wonders about the victim (no word yet on who she is) and Olivia wonders where Walter is. "He's in the kitchen," Peter says with extravagant exasperation as the sound of a blender firing up is heard from the other room. Yeah, blenders wreck everything.

Peter ushers Olivia into the kitchen, where Walter is busy with at least two blenders, a counter full of ingredients, and a set of plugs up his nose. Olivia tries to get him to share whatever else he knows about The Observer. "You once referred to him as your friend and it seems he may have kidnapped a woman," she presses, but he's too distracted with his milkshake project. Apparently his favorite shake shop shut down yesterday, and he's trying to reproduce the recipe. "Walter? Could you come with me?" Olivia asks. Not really asking at all.

Apparently she's dragged him all the way to the lab, which she's cluttered with 8X10 glossies of Famous Original Observer, spotted at "over three dozen Fringe events." It's not clear from any of the photos what constitutes a "Fringe event," other than that it's obviously something attended by an awful lot of people with cameras. Walter and Peter tag-team on reminding us of their history with Famous Original, when he saved them from a car that was sinking into a frozen lake. Walter seems to finally catch the snap that his bald buddy stands accused of kidnapping, but he's clearly thinking more than he's saying. Before they can press him, Astrid pops her head in to say they have footage of the abduction, plus the kidnapper's journal, which was indeed found at the scene and is now on the way over courtesy of Broyles. As Astrid replays the footage on her computer, Olivia has her freeze and zoom in, which is when they realize it's not their Observer after all. "There's more than one Observer," Peter observes. Walter, standing behind them all, is being conspicuously quiet. Peter notices something weird on the tape, and Astrid slows it down, revealing that just before getting in the car, The Initiator made a quick motion with his hand, too fast to see at normal speed. But Zaprudering it frame-by-frame allows them to see that he was actually catching a bullet in his hand. That's some state-of-the-art security equipment there, if it's filming fast enough to catch a bullet frozen in not one but three frames of video, traveling less than a foot during that time. Either that or campus security uses really slow bullets. "Who are these people?" Peter breathes in amazement. The women can't answer, and Walter won't -- he's busy looking guiltier than ever.

By M. Giant

After the ads, we're outside a motel called Lowell Massachusetts. Or maybe that's just what the letters floating above it say. Inside one of the rooms, The Initiator's kidnapping victim is coming out of unconsciousness to find herself in a chair. As The Initiator begins tying her hands to the wooden footboard of one of the beds, she starts pleading with him, but he keeps saying everything she does at the exact same time. "Please don't hurt me," they say. "Why are you doing this? Please let me go. I promise I wont tell anyone." He always knows what she's going to say , because of some intimate familiarity with either the future or common kidnapping scene clichés. "You don't have to do this," she finishes, cutting off while he finishes, "...to me." They lock eyes for a minute and he finishes tying her, then produces a twisted necktie. "Please," they both say, until he gags her. "It will be safer if you stay quiet," he says, finally free to have some dialogue of his own. He pops his hat on his head and leaves her there crying. I think I like these guys better when they just Observe.

On one of the park benches that serve as his conference rooms, Broyles shows Olivia a folder on the victim, whose name is Christine Hollis, a 27-year old masters student in fine arts at BU. "As far as we can tell she's no one special," he adds. "Parents are deceased, no siblings, no arrest record, twenty-seven hundred dollars in a bank account. Nothing unusual about her at all." Christine's ordinariness will be a running theme, rest assured. Olivia's at a loss; why are The Observers getting involved in events now, after all the years of simply watching (aside from the Bishop-saving, of course)? Broyles suggests that she figure out The Initiator's motive. "Do that and I think you'll find him." Thanks, that's almost helpful. Flummoxed by an impossible task? Everything should fall into place if you start by accomplishing this other, different impossible task.

By M. Giant

Peter excitedly shows Walter something in The Initiator's journal: a sticky red smudge that he thinks might be blood. Dutifully and distractedly, Walter asks for a scalpel. Rather than hopping to, Peter asks if Walter's Observer ever explained why he saved them. "No," Walter says, fairly convincingly. Peter's so excited about being this close to bagging an Observer you can practically hear him baying. "Whatever William Bell was warning Olivia about, these people have the answers," he says. "I know it." Well, actually, Peter, William Bell was warning her about some interdimensional Antichrist who's been on the loose for over a month. Forgot about that, did you? Meanwhile, Astrid is having trouble analyzing the handwritten notes from The Initiator's journal: "I have counted 1,236 distinct characters and not a single one of them repeats," she complains. Peter reminds her that he didn't major in linguistics, like that was a complicated thing she just said, so she dumbs it down even further. "Without repeated symbols, language is not possible," she says. Peter asks if that means it's a code, and Astrid says if it is, it's a Godalmighty whoreson shitball of one. Though not in so many words. Both of them seem unaware that Walter is quietly decoding a page behind their backs. Right then is when Olivia comes in, wanting an update. All Walter says, collecting the sample Peter found, is that the "blood" looks a little orange, which might indicate hemophilia. Peter offers to call Broyles to have him build a list of all known hemophiliacs, which I'm sure Broyles will be only too thrilled to jump all over. Suddenly Astrid pipes up with a discovery: "It looks like someone else has been investigating these symbols too," she says. Walter looks shiftier than ever.

But instead of busting him, Olivia and Peter end up heading down to Massive Dynamic. There, as they get off the elevator with Brandon the burly lab geek from a few weeks ago, he tells them some of what he's figured out from studying the written version of Observer-ese. Like, for instance, one of the symbols shows up on an ancient cuneiform tablet, while another one appears on a 3,000-year-old artifact in Delhi. In other words, these characters are all over the place, almost as much as the kooky camera angles as the unlikely threesome walks down the hall. Without taking a breath as they reach his door, Brandon suddenly turns to Peter and says, "Nina Sharp says you're FBI too. You don't look FBI." No, right now he just looks kind of annoyed. Which is often mistaken for FBI. Olivia confirms that Brendan doesn't know what any of the Observer-ese writing says. "No idea," he says. "But I found something else."

By M. Giant

In his office, he uses his computer to pull up Paul Revere's famous 1770 engraving of the Boston Massacre, then zooms in on the section of it on the far right that shows the British commander with his cutlass raised. There behind him is a bald man, watching the proceedings. "Oh, come on," Peter says incredulously, and I have never agreed with him more. Olivia adds that it could be anybody. Plus it's not like Revere took a photo of the scene, plus it's not like that face exists in the actual engraving anyway. Nothing there but billowing musket smoke and a section of background storefront. Undaunted, Brandon pulls up a painting of Marie Antoinette being led to the guillotine. Among the bloodthirsty onlookers is one calm, bald head, which I'm sure the artist (sorry, can't seem to find the original anywhere, at least not in the three minutes I'm prepared to spend looking) felt compelled to include regardless of whether it adds anything to the painting, if indeed the artist was even there. Finally, and not a moment too soon, he pulls up an actual photograph, one taken of Archduke Franz Ferdinand in Sarajevo minutes before his assassination launched World War I. And you know who's in this crowd as well. "So they have been around forever," Olivia says, apparently totally convinced. And they're bigger camera-hogs than your average United States Senator. "Or else they're not limited by our human perception of time," Brandon says, because that makes so much more sense.

So he gets ready to give them a little demonstration of what he means, with a small bottle of blue water out of an airplane toilet or a diaper commercial, and a small glass pipe that's open at both ends. Pouring water through the pipe (and out on the floor and Peter's boots), he says we see time as linear, always traveling in only one direction through only one path. But what if he plugs one end with his finger? Then the pipe fills up, and he plugs the other end with another finger, trapping the water inside. "And then you can see, at any point, it's all happening at once." He thinks the Observers are not so much traveling through time as Observing it. No idea what he's basing this theory on, unless it's just the recent appearance of them in historical scenes where they never were before. "I think these guys show up at important moments -- historical, technological, scientific, but it's rare." He figures maybe two dozen times in the past five thousand years, as if he's got some kind of advanced mathematical formula that takes into account unseen Observers (variable U) and unrecorded sightings (variable N), and balances them against the likely number of random insignificant bald dudes in crowd scenes through the ages (variable R), and then multiplies it all by the reciprocal exponent of the constant value of BS. But Observing has apparently picked up sharply in recent days: "I've charted 26 sightings in the past three months alone. It kind of makes you wonder." "Why now?" Peter asks. "And what's about to happen?" Brandon asks. And why didn't it happen during November sweeps? And is Brandon's transfer from Massive Dynamic's Alien Technology Reverse Engineering division to Historical Observer Spotting a promotion or a lateral career move?

By M. Giant

At an Indian restaurant, Famous Original Observer sits at a table with yet another Observer. This one is older and burlier, equally bald but not quite as greedy with the hot sauce and chili peppers. While they're seasoning their lunch to the point of combustion, a third Observer, who looks much younger than the others, sets down his hat and briefcase and joins them. Dude, the number of known Observers just doubled in like a minute. And I can only assume that they cast this new guy before they saw him bald, because dude is weird-looking that way, even for an Observer. "We have a situation with August," he informs them, and hands over photos of The Initiator in action. So we have a name, which means I don't have to refer to him as The Initiator any more. And just so you know, we're not going to learn any other Observers' names this hour. Although if the rest of these automatons are also named after months, it might explain a lot about the recent performance of a certain SNL guest host. The youngest Observer says he doesn't know who the kidnapped woman is, "But she's supposed to be on Tropos Air Flight 821." They exchange significant glances which do not bode well for Tropos passengers, or its stock price. I'm just wondering why there's no love here for Oceanic, and on a J.J. Abrams show, no less. "He's created an irregularity. We'll need to repair it," Boss Observer intones, and tells Famous Original, "Contact Donald." FOO's fingers dance oddly over an even odder handheld messaging device.

By M. Giant

As this happens, a heavyset, very non-Observer-like guy in a Columbo raincoat leaves a market and pulls out a similar device. The keypad is covered with odd yet familiar-looking symbols, but the display consists only of three green lights that glow in sequence, followed by a fourth in red. Donald seems to understand the message: he's been invited to play a game of Mastermind? Looking purposeful, he proceeds to his car, ditches his groceries in the trunk, and pulls out a large case. It seems to contain a giant, clunky printer that whines out a photo of Christine, while he loads and silences a handgun. Dude, I know you probably hate that old printer, but it's probably safer to take it out of the car before you shoot it.

Now we're in Allston, Massachusetts, where Peter and Olivia are in Christine's apartment, talking to an arty blonde friend of hers. Apparently she's supposed to be subletting while Christine is on the trip to Italy she was supposed to leave for today. Which is why she was wandering aimlessly around earlier today rather than completing last-minute preparations for her transatlantic flight. Olivia asks the friend for a copy of Christine's itinerary. Meanwhile Peter, who's been closely snooping among the photos on the mantel, finds one of a little girl with her parents in San Francisco. The friend confirms that it's the last photo taken of Christine with her family before her parents were killed in a bridge collapse during the 1989 San Francisco earthquake. While she heads to the other room, Peter shows Olivia the photo. Far in the background, blurry but unmistakable, is an Observer. At this point, their ability to show up at significant and potentially significant events is dwarfed by their ability to somehow always end up in the shot.

Meanwhile, Christine has finally succeeded in breaking off a piece of the footboard she's tied to. All she manages to do as a result, though, is topple over in her chair so she can be helpless on the floor when August returns with a bag of Chinese takeout. "I thought you might be hungry," is all he says before righting the chair and plunking her back in it, then removing the gag. He looks at where the rope has rubbed her arm red and says, "You've hurt yourself." No, I think the person who put the rope there hurt her. She asks why he's doing this, solo this time. "It would be easier to show you," he says, and goes to turn on the TV news. Which, unlike most news shows on TV, is not currently showing exactly what's relevant to the plot. "It will be just a minute now," August tells her. She looks at him curiously. Well, if nothing else, at least she knows she's not on a stupid TV show.

By M. Giant

Olivia and Peter are riding back from Christine's place in a Ford commercial, apparently. Olivia shows off the car's ability to let her make a call with voice commands and buttons on the steering wheel, the excuse being that she's calling to check on Ella, who is out with one of the babysitting Jacobsons anyway. She hangs up, and Peter asks if Rachel is out of town. Or, you know, scored an indie movie role or something. Olivia says she's gone for the weekend. "And?" Peter presses, having noticed Olivia giving an unhappy little side-pucker. "You do that thing with your mouth when you're upset," he says. And not much else, generally. She explains about the plans with Ella that she had to cancel, and how understanding her niece was about it. The she reminisces about her first movie with her mom at age six, so excited by the experience and the atmosphere that she said, "Mommy, this is the best movie ever!" before it even started. And given the dire state of kids' movies in the eighties, it was probably downhill from there anyway. She says it's one of her favorite memories of her mom, and Peter assures her she'll make lots of memories with Ella. In fact, she's indirectly making one now: she'll always remember that she was talking about her when she heard on the radio about the crash of Tropos Air flight 821 outside Rome. Which is my way of saying that the news has just broken. Olivia turns up the volume on the radio (again using a button on the steering wheel, standard on all '09 Ford Commercial models) and makes Peter dig Christine's itinerary out of the glove compartment. "She was supposed to be on that flight," Peter realizes. Thanks for catching up.

Live video of the plane's tail fin sticking out of the Atlantic is playing on the motel room TV. "You were going to die," August tells Christine, turning off the tube. "I saved you." But she's not safe yet, he says. "I have to go out. I would prefer not to gag you," he says, and then gags her anyway. "But it is for your own protection." She lets him do it and watches him go. Broyles is right -- there really isn't anything unusual about her, aside from how boring and passive she is.

Peter and Olivia return to the lab, too busy talking to each other to notice that Walter has the journal open and is again working on cracking the code. Walter asks what plane crash they're talking about, and Peter tells him. Olivia speculates that maybe the Observer they don't yet know as August was really trying to save Christine. But Peter's still wondering what makes her special enough to save, and himself and Walter for that matter. But at least one mystery is being cleared up: Astrid gives Walter the lab results from the blood sample. Which tells Walter, to his amusement, that the "blood" is in fact chili pepper juice. OMG, the Observers are peppers disguised as human beings! It all makes sense now! Peter fails to see this as the breakthrough I do, though, sarcastically saying, "So we'll add messy to the APB," he says sarcastically. Hurrying to his workbench, Walter says it's actually a decent lead -- it's from one of the hottest chili peppers in existence, a "king cobra" chili. "I once ate one," he says in the tone of a war flashback. "The flatulence was horrible. Very embarrassing." Olivia asks if they can be had in Boston, and only has to say Astrid's name before she's off to look into local pepper importers.

By M. Giant

August walks into that Indian restaurant and stands over the table of Observers. "Well, it appears you've been busy," Boss Observer observes. The other two just look up at him. Nobody appears to notice anything odd about four bald guys dressed like OSS agents hanging out together. But if a restaurant review of this place comes out in the Dig and there's a photo in it, Brandon is going to freak.

When we come back, Boss Observer invites August to explain himself, and asks who Christine Hollis is. Without sitting, August says he's been watching her, and she is unique. "They are all unique," Famous Original Observer says. "That is not reason to interfere with the course her life was meant to take." August reminds them that they've done it before. "Only to correct a mistake of our own making," FOO reminds him. "She has no future." August insist he sees it, and that it means she must be important. Boss Observer says August's perception must be faulty. They'll cut him some slack this time, but "Miss Hollis must be corrected. We've already seen to it." Whatever emotion is subtly registered on August's barely mobile face, it's not relief.

Back at the lab, Olivia continues to not find anything unusual about Christine, which at this point is becoming unusual in itself. Astrid enters to say they've narrowed the local king cobra pepper buyers to three restaurants and one private citizen, who paid with a money order. No name, but they have an address. Peter and Olivia head out, asking Astrid to call Broyles for backup, while Walter pretends not to have been watching them intently. As soon as they're gone, Walter asks Astrid to taste his latest strawberry milkshake permutation. She makes some very entertaining faces of disgust and horror, not only at the taste but upon learning that the latest failed recipe is French vanilla ice cream and cough syrup. Which is his way of asking her to make a run for the wild cherries he needs. She agrees, on the condition of not having to taste any more crap for him. She should specify for how long, but I guess we should be glad she's not getting a hypodermic needle in the neck this time. No sooner is she gone than Walter grabs his own coat and heads out the other door.

By M. Giant

Donald, the guy who works for the Observers, walks up the stairs to a dingy apartment, picks the lock, and walks in, his silenced gun drawn. The place looks barely lived in, with empty cupboards, a neatly made bed straight out of an army hospital, and nothing on the walls except macrobinocular photos of Christine going about her life. Stalker much? Realizing the place is empty except for a wind-up monkey that plays the cymbals, Donald holsters his gun and winds it up. Might as well have some fun, right? Just don't think about what an Observer would want with something like this. That isn't fun at all.

Meanwhile. Walter finds his way into a diner that's nearly abandoned except for August at one table. "You got my message," August says as Walter refers to his code-breaking notes and sits down. "I suspected a likeness of a nitrogen molecule would attract your attention," he adds, because everyone knows what a nitrogen groupie Walter is. The visibly nervous scientist begs in a whisper, "Please don't take my son. Your friend and I had a deal...I know what I did was wrong." Looking almost confused, August says that isn't what he wanted. "I need your help," he says. Relieved, Walter says he should call Peter and Olivia. "I suspect they might be occupied right now," August says without inflection. So you think he knows that the son of the person he's asking for help is currently walking into danger inside August's own apartment?

Sure enough, we see Peter and Olivia heading up the same staircase we saw Donald climbing earlier. In fact, Donald's still there, using the old gumshoe technique of running the tip of his switchblade lightly along the edge of a phone book until it stops, indicating a gap between pages where it was last opened. It's the dead-tree version of checking browser history. As Olivia and Peter reach the apartment door, Donald rips out the page, which is in the motel section. Normally I'd protest such desecration, but jeez, August, get an internet or something.

By M. Giant

Peter kicks the apartment door open and follows Olivia inside, who's got her gun leveled. She follows a noise into the bathroom, only to find the cymbal-playing monkey in the sink. Which is like a big neon sign reading, "DISTRACTION." And indeed, in another room, Peter suddenly feels a gun muzzle against the back of his head. "On your knees," Donald orders from behind him, cocking the hammer. Moving slowly, Peter starts to comply, softly saying, "Take it easy" three times. On the third, he whirls so quickly he's able to knock Donald's gun aside just before he can react and fire it. It's actually kind of impressive. Olivia hears the silenced shot and goes to investigate, but sees no one but Peter in the front room, keeping low and holding his hands up. "Not again!" he somehow manages to not howl down Olivia's gun barrel. This time, instead of nearly shooting him, she runs down the building steps in pursuit of Donald, but by the time she reaches the sidewalk, he's long gone. Dude moves faster than you'd expect him to.

At the diner, August is trying to explain the situation to Walter: he has interfered, and the others are trying to "correct" it, by killing Christine. "If we run, they will find us. If I stop the assassin, they will send another. I cannot see any course of action that will prevent...her death." He thinks Walter can help, since he has a history of thinking outside the box. "Not really," Walter says. "I just missed my son." Walter wonders what's so important about her. August says he can't explain; "I merely see it. I have never experienced such certainty. But the others, they say she is of no consequence." Walter says that August will have to prove it. "You must make her important. And of course, whatever you do, you must be prepared to face the consequences." August thinks that over.

Peter and Olivia are still loitering around August's place, and apparently the crime scene people have been called to check for fingerprints. Peter's doubtful they'll find any, and shows Olivia one of the newspapers August is holding onto -- from 1884. "Local Fisherman Predicts Record Year," reads the headline. Peter says, "Apparently it was a great year for blubber." Sure, but everyone knows that.

It's nighttime by the time August returns to Christine in the motel room. He removes her gag and stares at her for a while before crouching down to untie her hands. "Do you...trust...me?" he asks. She says she does, to her own surprise. And that of the rest of the world. Finishing freeing her, he tells her to do exactly as he says, then. As passive as she is, I think she'll probably be able to manage that.

By M. Giant

It's also dark at August's apartment, where the crime scene guys are apparently coming up empty. Looking at the contemporaneous newspaper clippings of important historical events on the wall, from the sinking of the Titanic to V-J day, Peter says, "We're looking for them, but they're looking for something, too. It's why they keep on showing up." Instead of answering him, she answers her phone -- the second observer was spotted at a motel in Lowell. They're on their way, without bothering to wonder how somebody calling in an anonymous tip is able to tell Observers apart.

But Donald's already there, having been spending most of the day crossing motels off that phone book page. No way of knowing how he knew which room August is in, but he busts open the correct door, even though the room appears empty now. Although there is still a loop of rope on the floor, and a couple of bare spots on the dust on the minibar to tell him he's in the right place. Oh, and the closet door is ajar. Donald makes a move toward it, but it bursts open, and out comes August's gun, with its adorable little clicking noise and its ability to fling Donald backwards against the door frame, which it does. August, his hat on to show he means business, steps over him and outside. Donald's not out for long, though, following with his own gun while staying out of the line of fire of August's. Eventually he catches up to him in the parking lot, and demands August tell him where Christine is. Instead of answering, August turns to face the approaching headlights of Olivia's car, with Peter in the shotgun seat. It turns out of sight without either of them seeming to spot what's going on, and August turns back to Donald, raising his weapon and whispering, "Goodbye." Donald shoots August three times and he goes down on the wet parking lot. Apparently Observers are less adept at catching bullets with their chests.

From behind a parked pickup, Olivia hollers, "FBI!" Which is a good way to get herself shot at, because that's what happens as Donald lays down covering fire for himself so he can make a run for it. Olivia goes after him while Peter goes to the fallen ex-Observer. Who doesn't say anything, but simply thrusts his gun into Peter's hand. Meanwhile, Olivia stalks around the motel, looking for Donald, unaware that he's up on the roof behind her. Fortunately Peter sees him, and lets him have another taste of the Observer weapon, sending him tumbling. Olivia turns and shoots him twice while he's falling, so by the time he hits the ground, his day is pretty much ruined. Peter approaches, satisfies himself that Donald is dead, and looks at the gun in his hand before looking up at Olivia. Someone finally gave him a gun after all.

By M. Giant

But when Peter returns to where he left August, there's nothing there but a narrow-brimmed hat. Meanwhile, Olivia finds the right hotel room, and from looking at the bed, figures out that Christine is wedged between the mattress and the headboard. Nice hiding job, August. Good thing Donald didn't spend three seconds searching in there before going after the guy he wasn't supposed to be chasing anyway. Olivia introduces herself to Christine and helps her out of there. Christine asks her, "What about the man? The one who took me?" Olivia's only answer is, "Let's get you home." Where I'm sure her subletter will be thrilled to see her.

A big old brick shithouse of a Ford LTD cruises down the road with August in the back seat, wondering if she'll be safe. From behind the wheel, Famous Original Observer asks who she is and why August saved her. August says he saw her years ago. "Her parents had just been killed. She was crying. But she w...she was brave. She crossed my mind somehow. She never left it." Famous Original Observer watches August through the rearview mirror. Hey, eyes on the road, Cue Ball, unless your ability to observe time extends to oncoming traffic. "I think it's what they call feelings," August gasps. "I think I love her." So what is he so afraid of? He repeats his initial question, and FOO tells him, "Yes. You made her important." A tear spills from August's dying cheek as FOO concludes, "She is responsible for the death of one of us." Wait, so where does that leave Donald?

Back at Christine's apartment the morning, Peter is trying to debrief Christine, who can't really tell him anything. I think I understand what August sees in her: just like an Observer, she never does anything. Walter steps up and says, "He asked me to give you something. The bald man. In the event that he couldn't." Walter draws that teddy bear from inside his cardigan and hands it over. It is Christine's, of course -- the very one she was holding in the back seat of the car when the bridge collapsed under it twenty years ago. "I think you'll be safe now," Walter tells her. She looks touched, but Peter doesn't look anything but really, really FBI.

By M. Giant

In the hall on the way out, he demands of Walter, "When did you see the Observer? And why didn't you tell me?" Walter says he just did, but Peter's not satisfied. "We're so close! I can't let these guys get away again." But Walter just calms Peter with a hand to the side of his neck and an invitation to a long drive for a milkshake. Peter allows himself a defeated smile, like Walter just waved a roll of Mentos at him.

In the park, Broyles, whose arm sling from where Peter shot him is much more obvious than it was in the last scene he was in, tells Olivia all about Donald, whose gun was connected to a string of unsolved murders going back ten years. And of course no one has any idea who hired him. "Nothing in his car or on his person gave any indication." Even the ancient printer that apparently plugs into a cigarette lighter? As for August's gun, they can't get the thing to work at all, and the techs figure Peter fired the last "round." The final bit of info is that it looks like the person who called in the August sighting was August himself. Olivia starts talking about how August might have realized he couldn't protect her on his own, and that was his way of calling for backup. "That's what I thought," says Broyles and continues walking on in a "case closed" sort of way. Olivia catches up to him and asks for the rest of the day off. "Sure," Broyles says. "Big plans?" Olivia says, "Yeah."

Cut to her sitting to Ella in the front car of a roller coaster and looking distinctly nervous. They laugh and scream through the ride. Down below, Famous Original Observer watches, holding a popsicle that I assume is jalapeno-flavored. Suddenly Boss Observer shows up to him and says, "Look how happy she is. It's a shame things are about to get so hard for her." Harder than before? Olivia continues suffering through the ride, unaware that this is, if the Observers are to be believed, the most fun she'll be having for a while.

M. Giant is a Minneapolis-based writer with a wife, a son, and a number of cats that seems to have settled at around two. Learn waaaay too much about him at Velcrometer, follow him on Twitter, or just e-mail him at M.Giant[at]gmail.com.