By Daniel
Olivia's mooning over Peter, measuring out her life in coffee spoons. Nina convinces Olivia to get help from Walter, but in the meantime there's a case to solve that will, as usual, give her reason and time to reflect on her own life. It involves a scarred man who dehydrates the male half of a loving couple, so he can extract their essence and make pheromones with which to seduce the female half of the formerly happy couple. He wants to distill the essence of love, or something. Olivia catches him, with the hitch being that the final victim is not the man's wife but his mistress, so the FBI team had been lying in wait at the wrong spot.
Meanwhile, remember when the Observer died/disappeared and the tray fell over? Walter fortunately has a nanny cam hidden inside a teddy bear in the lab that shoots good enough video so that he can slow it down and see that the Observer actually stuck something in Peter's eye. That something is a little disc with an address that Peter -- who's looking for any excuse to stay away from Olivia anyway -- tracks to New York, where he finds the Observer's swingin' bachelor pad, with the doohickey that he uses, and the other doohickey, you know what I'm talking about. He uses those doohickeys to find that vaguely titillatingly-shaped beacon thing from all the way back in the first season, and when he turns it on, he brings the Observer back, which is great, because then we get to hear the Observer blather about Peter not being erased from the timeline because the people who love him love him too much to let him go, and vice-versa. Oh, and this, which seems important: this is Peter's right timeline. This Olivia? Is his Olivia. So that means there's a big hug at the end of the episode, which is nice, except you can't help but wonder how Peter and Olivia are going to be split up this time.
Daniel is a writer in Newfoundland with a wife and a daughter. Can we just focus on the freaky shit now? Follow him on Twitter (@DanMacEachern) or email him at danieljdaniel@gmail.com.
Olivia's alone in a restaurant, sitting by herself and staring out the window at all the people passing by, many of whom have never had their hearts broken by a bestubbled scalawag named Peter. How we all envy them! Melancholy, unsurprisingly, seems to suit Olivia. She looks amazing. Whenever I got my heart broken, it usually meant a weekend bender following a day of recovery where I didn't leave my room and just listened to the Cure nonstop. Olivia's way seems better.
Nina comes in and gives Olivia a kiss on the head before telling her that they're completely reevaluating their security measures after what "that woman" did. "I wanted to give you time to collect your thoughts. I know when there's something you want to talk about," Nina tells her.
So Olivia starts talking about how she's in love with Peter. "I know it sounds absurd to you. But it's like I've known him my entire life. And everybody, including him, keeps telling me that it's impossible," she says. Not impossible, Olivia. Unholy. There's a difference! Nina asks about the Peter-projecting-his-memories theory and Olivia says that she can remember things that Peter couldn't have known, like details of cases he wasn't on. "I don't know how this is happening, but... I'm scared."
Nina assures her that they're going to find out what's happening with her. And as for Peter, all wounds heal over time. Olivia says she wishes the time would move a little quicker. Well, that's what Cabo is for Olivia. (Unsurprisingly, Nina says Massive Dynamic just filed a patent on the time thing last week.)
Olivia smiles and says it's good to see her and they should do this more often, making Nina's smile fades. "We always have breakfast together on Saturday mornings. We were here last week," she says. No, yeah, Olivia means you should do it twice a week, right? No, that's not what Olivia means. She doesn't remember that this is a weekly thing, and now Nina's getting worried: "You're having these experiences at what cost?" Olivia sits back and thinks about it for a moment, and then nods. She says she'll talk to Walter.
Elsewhere, a woman arrives at her darkened home and plays the one message on her answering machine: "Hey, Jane. It's Celia. God, it was a beautiful service." While she listens, we see someone in the shadows open a little vial of yellow liquid that I assumed at first was Cortexiphan. Whoever it is -- we can see a heavily scarred face -- daubs a little on his neck, while Celia finishes up her message to Jane by telling her to call if she needs anything.
By Daniel
Jane stands at her answer machine for a moment, looking sad, and then the light switches on behind her, revealing Scarface. Jane spins around, startled. "Who are you?" she asks. Actually, she doesn't seem quite startled enough, but she's already had a shitty day. Then she breaks for the door, but Scarface catches her and throws her against the wall, holding her by the throat. She struggles, but then she calms down even as tears roll down her cheeks. And then she's kissing the guy, melted-cheese face and everything. And she's into it. She smiles, and then strokes his face, and looks into his eyes -- and then the spell appears to be broken. The fear is back, and with good reason -- Scarface whips out a roll of cellophane and quickly wraps her head up and then holds her close as she struggles, suffocating. Eventually, the struggling stops. He lays her body down -- her lifeless face made all the creepier by the cellophane, which is actually one of the more unsettling things I've seen this show started -- then takes a Q-tip and swabs her neck and wrists. He puts the Q-tip in a vial marked "Jane Hall sample" and then leaves.
After the opening credits, Walter in his Harvard lab is thrilled to see Olivia show up, even if she didn't bring him any M&Ms (he's run out, apparently). He's listening to "White Rabbit" by Jefferson Airplane.
Excitedly, he shows her a nannycam teddy bear -- that he bought "on the Interweb," naturally -- to keep an eye on the cleaning crew. But it picked up their encounter with the disappearing Observer. They watch the video -- and just in case we've forgotten that a big deal was made about the tray tipping over for seemingly no reason, Olivia mentions it again. More important, there's a split-second blur in the middle of the screen and Walter thinks something happened too quickly to have been caught by the human eye.
That's where Astrid comes in, literally, with some equipment Walter requisitioned from MIT -- an apparatus that can slow videotape down. "The playback rate is so decelerated that you can actually see light particles," he says. That... sounds like nonsense, yes?
As Walter goes off to do some magic science, Astrid asks Olivia how she's doing. Olivia says she's fine. There's an awkward pause and then Olivia admits she came to talk to Walter, but his mind appears to be firmly somewhere else. Well, surely Olivia considered the possibility that Walter might be fixated on something or other.
- 1
- 2
- 3
- 4
- 5
- 6
- 7
- 8
- 9
- 10
- 11
- 12
Regardless, Walter is now bellowing for Astro's help, so Astrid leaves, giving Olivia time to stare at the video screen, and I guess the teddy bear was perfectly placed to stage everyone on screen, which is nice. She moons over Peter for a moment and then her phone rings.
And she's at the murder scene of the cellophane -- wrapped Jane Hall, along with Astrid, Broyles and Lincoln Lee. Olivia sees what she thinks are bruises but turn out to be a skin reaction to some chemical residue that was on the assailant's hands. Making this Fringe-y is that it's the second such death recently, and both dead women were recently widowed, when their husbands died under mysterious circumstances. This is explained by Lincoln Lee, who seems somewhat awkward in Olivia's presence.
Broyles explains that the men's bodies were dumped in fields, completely dehydrated. So the killer's targeting couples. But wait, there's more! In both cases, the dead husbands' DNA was found on the dead women. "You're saying both widows were killed by their dead mates," says Olivia skeptically, with Broyles replying that's what the evidence says. Well, maybe not so much, since Jane's husband's body was only exhumed 15 minutes ago.
Back at the lab, Walter is performing science magic (while a Scooby-Doo cartoon plays in the background). He twists a knob, and then he spots something. "Oh my," he says.
Peter's riding in a cab when his cellphone rings. It's Walter, telling Peter that he needs him immediately. Only Peter's in a cab on his way to the bus station, which is news to Walter. He asks where Peter's going. "New York. You wanted me to stay away from her, remember?" says Peter, adding that the bus is as good a mode of transportation as any when you're getting out of town, whatever that means. "You didn't tell me," says Walter. He sounds hurt, but he shakes it off and tells Peter to come back to the lab: "I think the Observer may have done something to your eye."
So Peter elects to sacrifice the always-glamorous long-distance bus trip to come back to the lab, where he and Walter watch the decelerated video with the Observer flitting in and out around so-slow-they're-motionless Fringe team and, yes, appearing to stick something in Peter's eye. Peter notes that whatever he did, it wasn't seen by the other Observers. Of course, they haven't exactly been doing a bang-up job of keeping track of his activities, have they? "All I care about is what he's done to you," says Walter.
So Walter gets his equipment ready to go poking around in Peter's eye and he asks Peter, "What's in New York?" Peter says he keeps telling Walter that it's what's not in New York, i.e. Olivia. Walter, administering eye drops, tells Peter that he admires him, because even though Walter was the one who told him what the right thing to do was, he's not sure he himself would have had the strength to do it. Peter asks if that's Walter's way of thanking him for taking his advice. "It's a particularly obtuse way to admit that you're a better man than I," says Walter. That makes Peter chuckle, and he rattles off that Greek phrase (which he still sounds awkward saying, but I'm not sure that many people could say it very casually. Well, maybe the Greeks) that means, "Be a better man than your father." Peter says someone told him that a while ago, but it seems strange to hear Walter say it.
Anyway, Walter moves his magnifier/light array into place and digs the tweezers into Peter's eye, coming up with a little black disc smaller than Peter's pupil. "There's writing on it," says Walter. Sure: "If found, please return to September, c/o the Observers." Or some such.
After a commercial break, the Bishops have found an address -- 228½ Morrow Street -- scrawled in the slightly otherworldly Observer script. Walter figures that if they hadn't found it, it would have imprinted itself in Peter's brain anyway, calling it "Organic ocular suggestion," and that Peter wouldn't have even been aware of it, but he would have been drawn to that location. Any implanted disc in my eye got dislodged just now because of my severe eye-rolling.
Meanwhile, some FBI guys have strolled in with Jane Hall's body. Walter's utterly confused. "I think it's a case," Peter whispers to him, and Walter instructs the agents to wheel her on in.
Meanwhile, Scarface is cleaning muck out of some sort of freaky tanning bad, using a squeegee. There's all sorts of goopy fluids that he's collecting and discarding and eye-dropping etc., all in an unsettling shade of green. He puts a sample on a stick and sniffs it, closing his eyes in appreciation. I detect plum, hints of walnut and blackberry and human kidney, with an oaky finish.
Back at the lab, Walter's giving a lesson on how the human body is 60% water, but Mr. Hall's body -- the desiccated husk is on a slab to his wife's -- was drained of all moisture. He's like a big piece of human jerky! Walter explains that the substance found on Jane's neck was a concentration of her husband's pheromones -- one of the substances that was removed when her husband's body was dried out. As for why someone would extract pheromones, Walter explains: "They control our moods, our appetite, who we give our hearts to," he says, and Olivia and Lincoln Lee exchange awkward glances.
Astrid wonders if the killer is trying to win the female. "A love potion? Possibly," says Walter, crunching thoughtfully on what I hope is a potato chip and not, say, a sample of Mr. Hall's lung.
Lee heads out to get the first bodies exhumed so Walter can have a look at them, but he stumbles over Peter's gear as he does so, with Walter apologizing and explaining that he made Peter get off the bus to New York. As clueless as Walter sometimes can be, he's able to read Olivia's shocked reaction immediately: she didn't know he was leaving for New York. The look on Lincoln's face, as he takes this all in, is clearly, "Goddammit, if she's going to be in love with this guy, the least he can do is make her happy."
Peter's on Morrow Street, checking the numbers on identical black doors set in a brick building. The extra-special door-cam shows us 226 and then 228 -- like WE GET HOW STREET ADDRESSES WORK, THANK YOU -- and then there is a door with no number and then there's 230. So Peter goes back to the numberless door and tries the handle. It's open, so he goes inside and finds a long hallway with a couple of doors on opposite sides. He goes to the one with the umbrella stand sitting outside and slowly turns the knob. Inside is a small kitchen furnished with crazy old appliances. There are also old newspapers stacked chest high in one corner, and yellowing clippings tacked to a wall. He opens a closet, where he finds the trademark Observer gear, more than one set.
Back at the lab, Olivia finally gets up the nerve to tell Walter about her vanishing memories. He's surprised, since she told him they were all tucked away in the back or whatever. She says she didn't tell anyone, because when she thought she was going to be with Peter, she wasn't really worried about the consequences. Uh, you're not pregnant with syphilis too, are you? She wants Walter to see if he can reverse what's happening, so she can go back to being who she was. He takes her hands and says her name. "I don't want to feel like this anymore," she says, and he tells her he'll think of something. He goes, leaving Olivia to look at the corpses of the Halls. The husband's arm has shifted so it's hanging off his slab and is just barely touching his wife's hand. There you, go, Olivia! If corpses can find a way to be together, you'll find love!
In some park, Scarface is sitting on a bench off a path that winds around a lake. He's got a pug with him (a living one, not some dried-out hunk of dog jerky). Across the lake, he spots a couple, arms around each other, looking at the ducks.
So he heads over, pug in his arms, while they're trying to take a picture of themselves and he offers to help them. They agree -- commendably not recoiling in horror at the ruins of his face -- and he says they look like they're really in love. The man and woman cuddle close together while Scarface takes their picture. "You guys from around here?" says Scarface. They are -- from Brookline. Then the woman calls to Oliver, a boy of about five playing by the lake. Clearly, involving a kid in the scheme isn't part of Scarface's plan, so he excuses himself and goes looking for another couple. It doesn't take long before we hear a woman offscreen tell her husband to make sure he gets the lake in the background. "I can take that picture for you," says Scarface, smiling, because he gets to kill people today after all.
Back in the lab, Astrid's wearing some kind of nose-plugging apparatus while Walter makes her smell what turns out to be roadkill, and I'd really like to know how it is that Walter has roadkill lying around. It's from a beaver, which leads Walter to digress about how he went "beaver hunting" in the '70s in Eastern Canada. "Of course in those days, 'beaver' meant something else entirely," he says and there are so many levels of horror to this conversation that Astrid's head practically explodes. She wants to know why he's making her smell roadkill. "Because I've been smelling things for the past hour and I've lost my objectivity. Now, are you going to help me or not?" he says. Well, I guess it depends on whether you're going to start telling stories straight out of Hustler or not. Astrid crosses her arms, but you know she's going to help.
Meanwhile, Olivia and Lincoln are going over the case files, with Olivia noting that all of the friends interviewed said the dead couples had very loving marriages. Lincoln, SUPER GROUCHY, is all, "So?" and Olivia suggests the killer is targeting couples who personify the kind of love he wants to have. I suppose that makes about as much sense as anything could. And then Lincoln shoots her a burning look of love and asks if she's OK and if she's not, she should know that he's right there. She smiles and touches his hand and says she knows, but does not in any way appear to be readying herself to remove her clothes, which has to be a disappointment for him.
Then Astrid comes in, brightly telling them Walter wants to know which of them has "fearless nasal passages" which would make any sane person run screaming.
Out in the lab, Walter is giving a lecture on the history of perfumery, explaining that for centuries perfumers would use a "single, disparate rancid note" to counterbalance the other "sweet and unctuous" scents in a fragrance, such as the Greeks using carcasses and the Egyptians using afterbirth.
Olivia's all, "So this guy's making a perfume?" and Walter, by now used to the fact that his history lessons make everyone miss the point, says that the compound the killer used has a single rancid note: castoreum, which comes from the aforementioned beaver sacs. Walter offers Lincoln and Olivia a whiff, but they're warned off by Astrid. Anyway, Astrid tells them that castoreum is relatively easy to trace; only five perfume manufacturers use it, so the field agents divvy them up and get going.
Over at the Observer's apartment, Peter's poking around some old newspapers when a persistent beeping gets his attention. He opens the lid of a nearby cabinet that reveals an old record player, which looks to have been manufactured before beeping was invented. He pokes around until he accidentally finds the secret switch that lifts up the record player, revealing a briefcase hidden underneath.
He pops the locks and finds inside the standard-issue Observer snap-open binocular scanner thing. He takes a peek through it, surveys the room and then picks up the thing that's making the beeping: a little handheld device with a green screen with a dot on it. Maybe you can find ghosts with that!
Meanwhile, Astrid appears to be checking perfume manufacturers by herself while Lincoln and Olivia need to do it together. They're leaving "Scentax" having come up empty, when Astrid calls to tell them that Empire World Fragrance recently fired one of its employees, Anson Carr, for stealing castoreum. She's looking at the file now: there's Scarface, all right!
Meanwhile, in Chelsea, some poor bastard is locked inside Anson Scarrface's dehydration chamber of death, screaming to be let out. Unfortunately for him, it appears to be soundproof, so Scarrface goes about his work, adjusting knobs and levers in peace. Also, he's playing some new-agey pop by Jon and Vangelis, somehow making the human goop he's collecting all the creepier. It's a mad scientist montage, set to a tinkly piano and then we get a glimpse at the motivation: from a little box, Scarrface pulls out an old picture of a woman. It's always about a woman, isn't it? Every time you hear about a psycho killing men and extracting their pheromones to create a chemical compound to seduce their wives and then killing them too, it's ALWAYS about a woman.
And then we see the SWAT team swoop in, and I'm sorry, but it's always a bit of a cheat to cut things like this, making it look like he's just sitting there mooning over the picture of whoever this woman is while the FBI busts in. Because when Olivia and Lincoln and the gang head down the stairs for his greenlit creepshow lab, he's just suddenly not there. Olivia puts her hand on a beaker and finds that it's still warm, which is the mad scientist equivalent of a campfire, and determines the guy was just there.
Lincoln's the one who spots the dried-out body in the chamber, with the wedding ring prominent. They find some ID for the guy, Andrew Sutter of Milton, and Olivia heads off to tell Broyles they know who the victim is.
Meanwhile, Peter's wandering through the woods in Foxboro following his little handheld locator, which is still beeping with the yellow dot pulsing and flashing an arrow in the direction he's supposed to go. The beeping starts to get louder as he adjusts his direction and finally emits a happy "success!" beep.
Then the ground starts to rumble and spiraling up comes the little bullet-shaped (or, if you prefer, vibrator-shaped) Observer beacon from way back in the first season. Remember the first season? Were we ever so young? Peter stares at it, mystified and brushes the dirt off.
Over in Milton, a woman arrives home and starts to put away groceries, getting suddenly annoyed when she sees the kitchen garbage bag is full. She pulls it up and heads outside with it, where she's scared half to death by the FBI team that's suddenly on her doorstep. Olivia asks if she's Diana Sutter.
Inside, Olivia apparently fills Diana in while they sit at the kitchen table. The last time she spoke to Andrew was this morning. His car's in the shop and she told him to get a ride home from work, because she was too busy. This makes her cry a little bit harder, which is fair, since she's now history's greatest monster. Olivia promises that this guy isn't going to hurt her or anyone else, and Lincoln strolls up to say that they're in position.
Well, not quite: first Diana needs to sit watching television as bait while Olivia amusingly crouches behind a chair, gun drawn. She makes sure Diana keeps her eyes front, but apparently isn't too concerned that Diana talking to herself might be a tip off to Scarrface, because she says, "You must have loved each other very much." Diana explains that they got married the summer after their senior year at Brown and this August would have been fifteen years.
The story that she tells though, reveals not quite the fairytale romance: they were best friends and he was always helping her get over one broken heart after another (focus on Lincoln, who blinks in solidarity). Andrew couldn't understand why she kept letting it happen, and that he couldn't quite understand the difference between loving someone and being in love with someone. And now Lincoln is just flat out looking at Olivia, who has her back to him. "People get tired of looking, and hoping..." says Diana.
Cut to an exterior shot, looking in, there's Diana sitting in her chair. And now we see Scarrface, dotting a little pheromone cocktail behind his ear.
Only inside, Olivia checks her watch while Lincoln suggests that Scarrface is just talking his time. Olivia's not convinced: "This guy targets people in love. You heard her talking about her marriage! Why would Scarrface pick them?"
She heads back into the living room and asks if it's possible that Andrew was having an affair. "How did you know?" she says. More importantly, how did the guy who yearned for her during university wind up cheating on her? Especially when she's a knockout? Oh right, she doesn't love him and won't pick him up when his car's in the shop. And probably other things too. Olivia asks if she knows who the homewrecker's name is.
Cut to another woman in another house, turning off the television in her own living room.
She's just closed an outside door when she turns and sees Scarrface, lingering in the shadows of her kitchen. "What are you doing in my house?" she asks, frightened. He doesn't answer. After a moment, she bolts and he chases her. She runs for the stairs -- sure, trap yourself on an upper floor! -- and that's where he catches her. She struggles and screams and he puts her hand over her mouth. Just like with Jane Hall, the fear gives way to recognition and tenderness. He releases his grip and she reaches up to stroke his face and then they are kissing until -- just like before -- the effect wears off and she realizes she's kissing not the man she loves by a grotesque psycho who has attacked her. She starts to scream and he has to cover her mouth again and tell her to "Shhhh!" -- like THAT'S going to work. He starts to choke her and then we hear Olivia telling him to back the frig off. Nice cavalry moment for Olivia! Scarrface releases his grip and moves away from her, turning to see Olivia standing there gun trained on him. Another FBI agent swoops in with the handcuffs.
Later, outside, with Scarrface sitting in a police car, Olivia asks if he knows how many people he's hurt. He turns to look at her. "I don't want you to think I did it for me. I mean, not just for me," he says. He says we're not meant to be alone, that it's every human being's right to know love. "And had I succeeded and I found the right chemicals, just the right balance, I could have given the world what you have," he says. "What do I have?" Olivia asks him. "Love. I can smell that you're in love," he says. Olivia says nothing and closes the car door.
Later, she's at Nina Sharp's place and Nina was wondering when she'd hear from Olivia. Olivia says she talked to Walter, but it doesn't matter what she said, because after talking to the woman who wasn't really in love with her husband, she realized that it's better that her own memories be faded out in favor of the memories from this "better version" of herself. Or something. "I've decided to let things run their course," she says, with Nina staring at her like she just said she's planning a vacation to Syria.
Then Nina tries telling her that she's had an emotional day and she doesn't have to decide anything yet, but Olivia's made her decision. Nina's stunned and says Olivia has so much in her life; is she just going to let it all be replaced by memories of a life she hasn't lived? Olivia, simply: "Yes." After a long, long pause, with the two of them looking at each other, Nina finally asks how long they have. I liked that: she didn't say, "How long do you have?" but "How long do we have?" Olivia says she doesn't know and Walter doesn't either. Looking like she's on the verge of becoming very emotional herself, Nina tells Olivia that her mother used to say she should encourage the quest for happiness in her own children, even if it takes them far away from her. It's quite moving, actually. Olivia takes Nina's hands, and says that when the day comes, if she doesn't remember this, she wants Nina to try to build something with her again. "Don't give up on me," she says. Nina, eyes wet, nods. "I love you, Nina," says Olivia. "I love you, Olive," Nina replies. Man, this is affecting me more on the re-watch than it when I watched it Friday night. Usually on Friday night I'm struggling, after a long week of work, to stay awake by 11:30 when this show ends in Newfoundland. I'm tearing up right now.
Over at the (Peter) Bishop house, Peter's plugged the Observer bullet into a bunch of meters and gauges and power sources and whatever else and then he stands back and waits. After a moment, the blue pulse starts throbbing along the spiral cut around the length of the bullet. Peter reaches forward to touch the thing -- please remind me again what a genius he is? -- and then reacts as if he's been electrocuted when the top shoots a beam of light to the ceiling.
Peter goes racing upstairs, because somehow he knows that the light is projecting through the ceiling without burning a hole in the floor. Good thing he does, too, because standing there in the beam of light is September. "Thank you," he says, as the light vanishes and he's left standing there on the floor (I guess it would have been tricky to deposit him on the tip of the bullet). Peter asks what September is thanking him for, and September says, "They hid the universe from me. They locked me out." Now, September, I think maybe you could try a little harder at work too. "What I led you to, is a beacon. I needed you to activate it, so I could find my way back," he says.
Peter's all, "So I helped you." He looks kind of pissed. Clearly he's thinking, "Suuure, when an Observer needs to find his way back, all you have to do is turn on a cosmic flashlight, but still I'm stuck here." At any rate, he wants September to help him now, because he's tried everything. "And nobody here can help me, but you can. I know you can." Peter says "please" and everything!
September cocks his head, displaying about as much confusion as it's possible for any Observer to show. "You have been home all along," he says. Peter doesn't understand, what with him having been erased and all. "There is no scientific explanation," says September, in a colossal understatement, "but I have a theory: Based on a uniquely [sic] human principle, I believe you could not be fully erased because the people who care about you would not let you go. And you would not let them go."
And then September says -- groan -- "I believe you call it 'love,'" like he's some sort of robot from another universe instead of someone who can observe all of humanity across history at once and yet still somehow not be sure if "love" is this thing that humans share, for GOD'S sake.
And Olivia? asks Peter. "She is your, I believe you call her 'Olivia,'" says September. Okay he didn't really say it like that, but that's how I'm going to make him talk from now on.
Then the house starts to shake and September puts on his hat. Peter runs for cover and September disappears and there is a big crashing sound and when Peter gets downstairs, there's a big hole in the floor where the beacon used to be, but if he puts a big throw rug over it, I'm sure it will be fine. It doesn't even seem to bother him; he's got half a smile on his face.
There's Olivia, getting out of her car because either she's home or she forgot to plug it in. And there's Peter, waiting for her. She stops, and he starts to walk toward her, smiling and she starts hustling her skinny ass over and then they hug and spin around, and then they -- I believe it's called a "kiss."
And now we're left to wonder how the show's going to separate them this time.
Daniel is a writer in Newfoundland with a wife and a daughter. He thinks the final Fringe countdown has begun, and that makes him sad. Follow him on Twitter (@DanMacEachern) or email him at danieljdaniel[at]gmail.com.
Think you've got game? Prove it! Check out Games Without Pity, our new area featuring trivia, puzzle, card, strategy, action and word games -- all free to play and guaranteed to help pass the time until your show starts.
What are people saying about your favorite shows and stars right now? Find out with Join the conversation now!