Mr. Jones Wishes He Was Someone Just a Little More Funky

S01E07

An FBI agent and friend of Broyles gets infected with a parasite, which is kind of like saying Anne Boleyn had a headache. He's got this sucking, constricting thing around his heart, sending tendrils throughout his body. The Fringe team works to save him, and find an acronym buried in the DNA of the creature. Well, of course they did. ZTF is the name of several cells that are connected to the pattern. Olivia is, as usual, annoyed that she's getting information in bits and pieces, which you'd think she'd be used to by now.

While Broyles corners a local suspect, Joseph Smith, Olivia's off to Germany where she hooks up with a former boyfriend to gain access to another suspect, David Jones in a German prison who might have information on how to save Broyles' friend. She almost hooks up-hooks up with her old boyfriend too, if you know what I mean, and I think you do. (I mean "sex."). But the Jones wants to ask Joseph Smith a question, which would normally be fine, except Smith got shot in the head during the FBI raid and he's dead.

But, as we know, being dead can't save you from government interrogation, only the bullet to the head complicates matters, and Walter rigs up a device that'll let the dead guy speak through Peter in order to answer Jones's question and perpetuate the illusion that Smith is still alive. So it's like Weekend at Bernie's, only far more implausible.

Oh, and they save the FBI agent, who turns out to probably be evil. The FBI really needs to overhaul its recruitment program.

We open on the docks of Weymouth, Mass. Some guy named Capt. Loeb is leading an FBI raid with units on the ground and in the water. He himself is in a little tugboat with some other agents, cutting the engine as they coast in to dock. On land, the men take up their positions until the target shows up -- a box truck. Loeb orders his men in, and the truck is swarmed by FBI agents, ordering the driver out of the cab. Loeb and his men open the back of the truck, and inside is merely several stuffed panda bears. So I guess they're busting a major Coney Island smuggling ring.

"Panda bears?" says Broyles, later, in his office, talking to Loeb, who says they knew the FBI were coming, and someone made a switch. "Joseph Smith," he says. The father of Mormonism? Loeb hands over an Interpol notice on Smith, who began working for the shipping company a week before the container was packed, has a science background, and has been back and forth to Budapest half a dozen times in the past year. Broyles asks if there are any other local agents working on the case. "Coscarelli and Scrim," says Loeb. "Coscarelli" would be a great name for yelling. "Coscarelli! My office! Now!"

While Broyles, puzzled, notes that the container was seven pounds heavier when it was seized than when it was in Germany, Loeb's looking very uncomfortable. "Mitchell?" says Broyles, right before Loeb pitches forward onto the floor.

At the hospital, he's still in pain, sounding like he's constantly on the verge of throwing up. Broyles is following the trauma team as they take Loeb's stretcher down the hall, when he's flagged down by a distraught woman asking Broyles (who she calls "Phillip") how he is.

In the operating room, the doctor's already whipped out the defibrillator, which doesn't seem to be having any effect except for making that strangely pleasing ka-chunk noise. They're going to have to cut him open, which they do, rather graphically, and then use what looks like the tire jack for a Hummer to pry open his stomach, which instantly seems to provide Loeb with some relief. But now the OR staff are bewildered. "What is that?" asks a nurse. "I don't know," says the doctor, and then we see what they see -- some pulsating, creepy, grey reptilian thing coiled around Loeb's heart, which is what too much Taco Bell will do to you.

After the break, Broyles leads the Fringe team in to see the poor bastard. "It's not a heart attack. At least, not in the traditional sense," he says. He also says it's been determined the thing isn't communicable. Olivia's all, "'thing'?" and Broyles says "We'll get to that later." Oh, and the episode wouldn't be complete without a quirky obsession for Walter to fixate on inappropriately. Tonight, it's asking for gum. Or mints. Neither of which Peter has. Probably in the same place he left his patience.

While the Fringe team preps, Broyles says Loeb's vital signs are weakening. He turns to Walter. "Dr. Bishop, what you're about to see, I don't know if you've seen anything like it before. But I'm hoping you have." He adds that the man in the operating room is not just a colleague, but a friend. "I see," says Walter, looking very concerned, before asking, "Do you have any mints?" Broyles just stares at him, thinking, All right. You're quirky and socially inept. I get it.

Inside the OR, Walter takes one look at the thing and declares it "spectacular," with Peter wryly noting that Loeb would likely be thrilled by his diagnosis. Olivia asks if this is another of the cases that are an extension of his own work, but Walter says it "couldn't be more aberrational." He was merely admiring the beauty of the design, adding this could be the hybrid result of genetic manipulation. He points out the tendrils shooting out from the ugly thing, calling it a root system, and continues to pop a boner over how "beautiful" it is. Olivia asks if he can remove it. Walter says he'd love to give it a try, just not here: "My breath is atrocious." He stomps away, snapping off his surgical gloves.

So it's back to Harvard, and I really hope the Fringe team was able to come up with a better reason than "halitosis" to move this FBI agent with the never-before-seen parasite squeezing his heart to this non-sterile, unsecure mad-scientist lab that has a COW in it.

Walter's been thinking about the thing on the ride over, and says it could be something as simple as a giardia duodenalis. "Really! As simple as that!" says Olivia, like SHUT UP, OLIVIA, THAT'S WHY HE'S HERE. Peter says that's just a simple parasite that lives in animals' intestines. Walter points out that this thing has an unusual method of attachment. "Typically, parasites use whole body insertion. This creature is unlike anything I've seen before, so we won't be able to truly examine it until it's removed," says Walter.

Astrid shows up -- yay! -- with Loeb's case files to look at. Oh, and Loeb's wife is here. Olivia says she'll go talk to her in the office. This gives Walter enough time to complain about not having any damn gum or mints, again. And Peter has some, and he manages to smile at his dad instead of sneering at him, which is a nice change.

Olivia introduces herself to Samantha, who is Mitchell Loeb's wife. Olivia introduces herself as being with "homeland security," which is probably safer than "I investigate the freaky shit." Samantha says no one's telling her anything, and asks if Olivia can at least tell her why they transferred her husband here. Olivia gives a vague answer about a doctor here who's "uniquely qualified" to save her husband's life. This doesn't really seem to satisfy Samantha, but she doesn't press at all. She does hand over a flyer for A Christmas Carol and a piece of paper with some kind of printout on it, which she says her husband brought back from Frankfurt. "I don't know if it'll help at all," she says. Olivia says it might, and thanks her. Samantha asks to see Mitchell, and Olivia says "as soon as possible."

Inside, Peter and Astrid watch while Walter sticks his arms into the sockets in Loeb's protective bubble. He touches a scalpel to that disgusting thing around Loeb's heart, and it STARTS TO CRAWL, wreaking havoc on Loeb's heartbeat. The parasite is constricting, squeezing the heart.

Peter jumps to get some cyclobenzaprine, which he says should loosen the grip. Walter calls it a gamble, but he applauds the theory, and then he's off to check out the DNA on the tissue sample he just snagged from the creepy crawly. Peter injects the cyclobenzaprine into the IV, and Loeb's heartbeat almost immediately starts going back to normal. Walter pauses a moment for a metaphorical pat on the back for Peter, saying maybe he's found his true calling: working with his old man. Oh, please. Like, who wouldn't have thought of injecting some cyclobenzaprine? Still, Walter's displaying the same kind of pride I feel when my two-year-old daughter points out an Edmonton Oilers sticker on someone else's car.

So it's ... the day? Later that day? I don't know. Olivia wants to know if the gang has any good news, like SHE'S any help. What's she been doing all day? Peter's about to mention something he's found, when Walter interrupts them, holding some printout, saying it's fascinating. "We can assume that this growth, this parasite, is of human design, yes?" Olivia's all, uh, if you say so, and Walter says he was looking for some sort of repetition, which could be the "signature of the creator." He's completely lost Olivia, as usually happens this early on in the episode, so Peter steps in to show her what they've found. Again, Walter interrupts to show her a printout filled with text, and several parts of it are repeated over and over, too organized for it to be accidental. Olivia wants to know why someone would insert that into DNA. Walter suggests arrogance or mischief, but doesn't really know. "Your friend thinks it might be a code." Olivia looks at Peter, but he says, "The other one."

Meaning Astrid, who, in an amazing coincidence, studied cr

yptology even before she joined the bureau. I think it would be great if Astrid was like Chet from The Hardy Boys, who always happened to be getting into a new hobby that always winds up proving helpful to Frank and Joe. Anyway, she thinks it might just be a Caesar shift.

"What's that?" asks Peter, and thank GOD there's something that Peter doesn't know about. Olivia does, calling it a "simple monoalphabetic cipher." "Is it now!" says Peter, grinning at the field-of-expertise reversal. Olivia explains that Julius Caesar used to send messages using a simple substitution code. You replace one letter with another, but do it alphabetically. So if your A becomes E, then your B becomes F, and so on. As Olivia explains, Peter stares at her with barely disguised lust. Astrid thinks the letters could be CIW, DJX or EKY. Now -- and I'm no cryptologist, mind you -- but if you're breaking the code, don't you look for translations that actually mean something? I mean, those are just random letters thrown together, and so I'm not sure why she's tossing out those suggestions when there are actually twenty-five options, if meaning isn't important. "Or ZFT?" suggests Olivia, and Astrid says sure, and asks what ZFT is. But Olivia is already gone. Yeah, DON'T EXPLAIN or EVEN ANSWER, Olivia; it's not like the rest of your team hasn't been working their asses off all day to try to solve this thing while you've been to your daily hair-straightening appointment.

She goes to see Broyles, who's walking on the way to his office, and she explains that she's been going over John Scott's old files, and there was one on an operation tracking a group in Budapest, and the label on the file was ZFT.

This brings Broyles up short, and Olivia asks if that means anything to him.

He unlocks a drawer to his desk and says a British national named David Robert Jones was arrested in Frankfurt for possession of state secrets. He's got a background in deep biotechnology, notably genetic weaponry, and he went off the grid twelve years ago, popping up every now and then in Eastern Europe. One of the reasons Loeb was in Frankfurt was investigating Jones.

"So who's ZFT?" asks Olivia, and so we're into the requisite "there's much you don't know, Agent Dunham" scene, which is really playing like the writers saying, "yeah, we have NO idea where this is going yet, but please bear with us." Broyles tells her about cells -- not conventional terrorist cells -- found in eighty-three recorded countries, and ZFT is among them. "They traffic not in drugs or weapons, but in scientific progress," he says, pointing to what happened to Loeb or to the fateful flight that landed Olivia in this whole thing. They could just be scientific experiments, proof of theories. Mad scientists getting their kicks is not one of the possibilities Broyles mentions, but I like that one.

Olivia wonders if Jones might know how to get the parasite off Loeb's heart, and Broyles says maybe, but the Germans aren't giving them access. "I may be able to get in," she says. "You got superpowers I don't know about?" says Broyles, and Olivia says "maybe." He tells her that she's not really going to Germany. She says she really is. "Let me save you the trip, Dunham. You're not getting in," he says. She snaps, "We don't know each other well enough for you to say something like that to me," like WHOA! Where did THAT come from? I'd like to point out A) Broyles didn't say anything personal that might have elicited such a "fuck you" response, and B), Broyles is YOUR BOSS, for God's sake. She says she doesn't see any other option. Broyles stares at her. "Loeb's your friend. And I promised his wife," she says. Yeah, promised her she could see him as soon as she could, not "promised I'd do my best to cause an international incident."

Back at the Harvard makeshift operating room, Loeb's not doing well -- his heart rate's down to thirty and he doesn't seem to care that a new season of 24 is on the way. Peter spots what might be the reason: the wispy tendrils from the parasite are evident in the IV line. "This parasite is spreading faster than I thought," said Walter. Peter asks how long Walter figures Loeb has. "A day, maybe," is the answer.

Peter's cellphone rings. It's Olivia, calling to say they've got a lead, but she's got to go to Germany for it. Peter says he doesn't think Loeb's got the time. You don't know Olivia well enough to say something like that! Olivia confidently says they'll make it. Don't forget, she promised Loeb's wife!

Over to Frankfurt now, where Olivia is met at the airport by some dude. "Look at you," she says admiringly, and he tells her to not let the suit throw her. "Well, Lucas, I never thought I'd see the day." Never see the day he rose from the dead after being killed by Kim Bauer? He's totally going to turn out to be evil. He gives her an awkward kiss on the cheek.

As they make their way through the terminal, he says he's not sure he can help her, and she reminds him he said he had contacts at the prison. "I'm in the Bundestag, I have contacts everywhere," he says, but she jumped on the plane so fast he didn't have time to check anything out. Did she teleport on the plane? He says he knows the warden, who wouldn't agree to anything, and doesn't want Lucas to just show up. "So what do we do?" asks Olivia. "Show up," he says, and they smile at each other. If you're watching closely, you'll spot the Observer, who REALLY needs to think about being a little more careful. At least buy a wig!

Wissenschaft Prison. I understand "Wissenschaft" means "science." And I understand "Prison" means "Prison," because THAT'S ENGLISH. Science Prison? Why not name it Gesundheit Prison? Olivia and Lucas are led through the security gates in the bowels of the prison, and are met by Lucas's contact, Johan Lennox, who says that getting some time with Jones will be a problem. "I'm sure we can work something out," says Olivia. She doesn't get as far as unbuttoning her blouse a little more, though; Lucas starts speaking German to Johann, who replies, (I'm told the translation is: "I'm sure that there is something which you find useful. And I would be willing to talk about these things," to which Lennox's reply was, "You can't help me with the things I need,") and then says to Olivia, "Your friend wants to be persuasive."

Olivia says that she's sure he's got reasons for not letting people in to see prisoners, but this is very important to her. "I would be willing to sign anything," she says, and then she starts speaking German too! Translated: "For example, something which will prove that I haven't been here." I prefer my original assumption, that she was offering sexual favours. "I like her," says Lennox, and Lucas says he has good taste. However, Lennox says Jones isn't talking to anyone. Olivia says, "I believe he will talk to me. If I write him a message, will you give it to him?" Lennox looks at her, figuring a photograph would probably be a better idea.

So with Olivia not there to babysit, Broyles is in the Harvard lab hovering around Walter, who's trying to work. Broyles says he's not really expecting anything, but he appreciates whatever Walter can do. Walter's not really paying attention, and Broyles has to repeat how grateful he is. Walter says "you're welcome," and then, apropos of nothing, starts chattering about a fruit cocktail he had in Atlantic City, even though he's not really a fruit cocktail kind of guy. Then he goes back to work, or possibly playing Asteroids.

on about the foods and beverages that he missed while he was incarcerated in a mental institution for the better part of the last two decades. To say that he's not focused? Is to say that he's a biped." Walter likes women and men? I must have missed that. Peter says nothing's going to change any time soon, and he doesn't have a remote control. If Walter's listening, and Peter's certainly speaking loud enough for him to hear, he's not showing it. Broyles just stares at him, like he pretty much has to do with every member of his ragtag team. "There's no master switch I can flick and turn him into the man I wish had raised me, or even somebody I don't have to babysit every day." Peter's ranting over, Broyles rolls his eyes slightly. Peter says he must have had that on his mind for a while. "Apparently," says Broyles, dryly. His cellphone rings.

It's Charlie. Hey, Charlie! He's in his office, walking around, talking in a low voice, because he knows he's not at clearance level (well, at least go into a room or something), but he's got something on a local connection to the ZFT. "Speak to me," says Broyles. Charlie explains that they analyzed the document Loeb brought back from Frankfurt, and figured out that every line corresponds to an FBI file case and an ID number to the agents assigned to it. "Every one originating from this field office," says Charlie. Wait -- if he doesn't have clearance, why does he have those documents to analyze? I'm confused.

Broyles is pissed that he sounds like there's another mole in the office, unless it was John Scott working with ZFT. Charlie says whoever did it needed upper-level security clearance, to have access to the FBI mainframe.

Broyles wants to know what the local connection is, and Charlie says one of the lines was a phone number registered to a Joseph Smith. Broyles is all, "Yeah, I know Joseph Smith! Loeb was briefing me on him when he collapsed. You got an address?"

Charlie gives it to him, and -- wait a minute. The FBI's not already investigating the guy who's a suspect in the case that Loeb was working on when he was attacked by this parasite? Am I missing something? Is it me or does that make no sense? Anyway, Charlie gives him the address, in Saugus, and Broyles hangs up and calls someone else. "I want a SWAT team surrounding Joseph Smith. He's at 4331 Broad Street, in Saugus. And I want this radio silent." Nearby, Peter's totally eavesdropping.

Back at Science Prison, Olivia's waiting with Lucas. "It's good to see you again, despite the strange circumstance," he says. She tells him he doesn't have to wait with her, which is apparently not the first time she's said that, and he says that he wants to, because he likes it here. What's not to like? A dingy corridor in a dank hallway in a German prison? I'm already booking my vacation there.

The security door opens, and Lennox walks out, saying he's surprised, but Jones will see her, but not until tomorrow morning. "This is not Jones's rule, or mine. It is the institution's. Long before I got here, there have been strict regulations regarding visitors. Tomorrow morning, you'll have fourteen minutes, not a second more." Fourteen, not fifteen? God, who knew Germans could be so fanatical about imposing strict rules on everything?

Also, Lennox hands over a note from Jones. Olivia opens it, frowning.

At Harvard, Peter's cellphone rings. It's Olivia, looking for Broyles. Peter tells her Broyles is on "some sort of raid." Olivia explains that Jones has agreed to meet with her, but only on the condition that he first gets to talk to a colleague of his, a guy in Saugus. Peter's all, who in the what now? Olivia looks at the note. "His name's Joseph Smith," she says. "At 4331 Broad Street," says Peter, stopping Olivia short. She asks how he knew that. "That's who Broyles is after right now," he says, but he doesn't know why. "Peter, we need him alive!" says Olivia. Olivia, you don't know Peter well enough to make a statement like that!

So Peter's racing the station wagon through the streets of Boston, and it seems awfully dangerous to be talking on his cellphone right now, but it's Olivia, asking him if he's close. Peter says he's on his way and asks if she got in touch with Broyles yet. Still radio silent, says Olivia, adding that she's going to call HQ.

Meanwhile, the SWAT team's locking and loading as they arrive at Smith's place. Peter swerves and speeds, Olivia tries to get through the thick skull of someone at HQ.

The SWAT team's just going in as Peter pulls up, and an officer, covering the house from behind his parked car, tells him to stand back. Peter tries telling him that he needs to talk to Philip Broyles, but the police officer just yells at him to get back. Meanwhile, an officer with a bullhorn is yelling for Smith to come out with his hands up. Olivia calls again, and Peter tells her he can't get any closer to the house, and the SWAT team's already inside. He watches as a guy climbs out of a second floor window onto a roof, and then jumps down to the ground, while a bunch of SWAT team guys basically stand around and yell at him. He runs across the yard, hops a fence, and then, rather ill-advisedly, pulls out a handgun. "Drop your weapon!" yells an officer. Peter starts yelling, "No! No! No! No!" when a long, drawn-out "Nooooooo!" would have been so much better, and there's a gunshot. Smith drops, fresh bullet hole in his forehead.

So Broyles is doing what he does best: telling people what to do. He's ordering some guy to make sure the evidence response team catalogues and boxes every item, down to the toilet paper. I bet the evidence team HATES Broyles. He spots Peter and asks what he's doing there. Peter says that Olivia's headed back to the airport: "Turns out Mister Jones would only help us if he could talk to Mr. Smith, the same Mr. Smith that your people just killed." It probably should be pointed out to Peter that it's not his fault that the SWAT team didn't know not to fire on a guy in case he turned out to be the one person a British prisoner in a German jail would talk to. Broyles asks if Peter's kidding, and Peter says it's the first serious thing he's said all day. His cellphone rings. It's Astrid, saying Walter wanted him to know that there is fluid accumulating in Loeb's lungs. "Tell him we need help quickly," says Walter. "He says we need help quickly," says Astrid. Walter gives her something to insert into Loeb's IV, and takes the phone. "Hello, Peter. This is me, your father. Walter Bishop." Heh. Peter: "Thank you, Walter. I know who you are." "Excellent," says Walter. Hee! He says they need to talk to Smith right away, as it's their best chance to save Loeb's life. Peter tells him Smith was shot. "Well, does he still have his head? Is it still attached to his body?" asks Walter. "Only you would ask that question, seriously. Yes, he still has a head," says Peter, who's apparently forgotten the first episode, because everybody else can see what's coming. Walter says that in this case, death is simply an inconvenience: "Bring him in, and hurry." Peter hangs up. Broyles watches him. "What?" he says. And Peter looks like he's passing a kidney stone.

Back at the Frankfurt airport, Olivia walks with Lucas. "So close," she says. He tells her she never did lose well, and she half-laughs. Then he asks her what happened: "There's something that has ... shifted in you. Something's happened." She tells him that a lot has happened. It's been a strange time. Then, instead of asking more questions, he starts hitting on her: "I have become -- and I'm not kidding -- a spectacular cook." She laughs. "Spend the night," he says. She smiles, and then gets serious and says, "I can't, Lucas." "Of course you can. Of course you can," he says. He moves a little closer, and she's thinking about it. Then her cellphone rings. Why, it's Peter! You little cockblocker, you! He's driving, frantically, and asks her if David Jones knows that Joseph Smith is dead. Olivia says he doesn't. "'Cause if you can still get in to see him tomorrow, he m

ay not have to," says Peter.

So, presumably without too much bureaucratic difficulty, this dead guy is being wheeled into the Harvard lab, to go with the FBI agent with his chest ripped open to reveal the parasite wrapped around his heart. Not to mention the cow. Walter, in his own scatterbrained way, gives instructions to the Fringe team. Astrid's putting salt water in the trough: "Ninety kilograms, not a drop more," Walter reminds her. Then he unzips the bodybag and is quite chagrined to see that Smith has been shot in the head. Peter asks if that's a problem. "Of course it's a problem! A bullet in the head would normally indicate significant brain trauma!" says Walter. Peter snaps that he's never had a conversation with a dead guy before: "Forgive me if I don't know the rules!" Astrid asks if this is going to work. I think I can answer that question: It seems unlikely, and you guys will run into some problems, and Walter will correct on the fly, and then it'll work! But for now, Walter merely says he'll have to alter the procedure.

So while Astrid dumps more ice on the corpse, Walter and Peter fiddle with wires attached to the top of Smith's head. Walter explains that a brain is like a computer: it just needs electricity to function, which the body stops producing after death. They're keeping the body cold to slow down degeneration.

Walter stares at Smith's bald scalp for a moment, and says, "It's astonishing how this man's scalp resembles --" and he's interrupted by Astrid, who says, "-- Peter's bare bottom when he was a baby?" Walter's surprised that she knew that, until she points out he's already told them that twice. "What did I say ?" he asks. "That we're going to kickstart his brain," says Peter. Walter finds this excellent, and gives Peter some conductive gel to prevent the electrical current from setting him on fire. "Spread it evenly. And don't forget his nipples." Amazingly, no one busts out a "that's what she said!" Walter then startles Peter by taking a picture with a Polaroid. Probably compiling a scrapbook, and who wouldn't want a picture of his son spreading conductive gel on a dead guy's nipples?

Walter readies the equipment and reminisces about a time in the '70s when the FBI asked him to use this technique on some dead guy named James or Jimmy, who'd been murdered; they wanted to find out who his assassin was, says Walter. "Union leader, I think," says Walter. Peter's all, "Jimmy Hoffa?" Yes, of course that's it. Walter blithely explains that he had a "shockingly low electro-sensitivity," so when he turned on the machine, it fried his brain like an egg.

Then he goes on about how everyone has a unique tolerance to electrical stimulation. "Mine, for instance, is remarkably high. Yours, Peter, unusually low." As Walter continues to ramble, Peter interrupts. "You used to do this to me," he says, as though it's just coming back to him. "You attached wires to car batteries and then you would shock me." Walter calls it "accumulating data." "No, you were experimenting on me," says Peter.

Walter, discomfited, ignores him and says they need to test a computer to see if it'll register any brain activity. Walter's got the wires hooked up to a light bulb, which he says will indicate if he's transmitting any thoughts to Peter. "Since he's dead, Peter, you'll obviously have to be his ears and mouth," says Walter. Peter stands there looking like he'd rather be anywhere else at the moment. Walter slaps the Polaroid of Peter onto the machine with the lightbulb. "Eventually, we'll connect this to your head," says Walter. Peter looks thrilled.

So Astrid cranks up the apparatus to two-hundred microvolts, which makes the dead body start shaking. The light bulb starts to glow. "Oh, look, Peter. He's talking to you," says Walter, smiling, at least until the light bulb pops and smoke curls upwards. "I suppose it's a good thing it wasn't attached to your head," he says. Well, that depends on who you ask, I imagine.

We join Olivia and Lucas in mid-conversation, with Olivia saying she doesn't believe him, and Lucas saying he looked into it, and we never find out what they're talking about. Instead, Lucas asks who it was who broke her heart. "Or am I misreading you?" he says.

Olivia thinks about it a moment before saying that he was her partner at the Bureau. "And you of all people should know that I've always been a little inept at this. But he was straightforward, decisive, charming, and it was wonderful. Except it was all a lie, and he betrayed me. Betrayed the job. Then he died. That's the end." Well, she's succinct, I'll give her that. He waits a moment, then says, "That's the end for him." And then comes the moment when he starts lamenting losing her, how he screwed up. Olivia says the timing wasn't right for either of them, and he starts blathering about how it was, but he was scared, and he thinks about her, but he doesn't call, and he's ashamed of how he treated her ... and I'm not quite sure, because I was busy punching myself in the face just for something to do instead of listening to this nonsense for another second, and then they start making out.

But the making out only continues until just after the commercial break, when Olivia's cellphone starts ringing. Olivia's the one who breaks the clinch. "I have to get this," she says. "I hate whoever that is," says Lucas. Oh, just head to the bathroom with some Kleenex, you big baby. Once again, it's Peter, telling her that she's not really going to believe this, but he thinks it might work. I find it hard to believe, especially since when last we saw the gang, they were blowing up light bulbs. Peter says there are some limits, and some issues and problems. "But Walter seems to think we can get the dead guy to answer some questions." Olivia says she'll call from the prison, eight a.m. her time. Peter apparently feels no need to complain that that's going to be 2 a.m. Boston time. After she gets off the phone, she turns to Lucas, gives an annoying smile and says she's going to head back to the hotel. "Grateful to you, to the incredible cooking, and your sweet words," she says, like what kind of thank you is that? She kisses him on the cheek, and he doesn't even say anything, just sits there with his blue balls.

So the morning, Lennox takes Olivia through the security checkpoint, while back at Harvard, Peter's all hooked up and ready to go. Walter wants the machine, and he tells Astrid, whom he calls "Astro," to ask Peter a question when he says go. "I will flip the switch, which will stimulate our naked friend's brain, and Peter, you will hear his response." Astrid has no idea what to ask him. Walter says to ask anything she likes, since it's only a dry run. "And son, I should apologize in advance. I'm afraid this .... Well, I shouldn't frighten you." Peter agrees. I think Peter has extra pants here just in case.

Walter gives the signal. Astrid says, "What's your favorite flavour of ice cream?" Walter cranks the dial, and the electricity crackles, making both bodies convulse. Peter groans. "Anything?" asks Walter. Yeah, that's NO, says Peter. So Walter tries again, with Astrid asking what Smith's favorite colour is. More convulsing. "Nope, still nothing. Just extreme discomfort." Shouldn't the electricity be cranked before the question is asked so Smith can hear it? Wait a minute, what the hell am I even asking questions for?

Astrid's cellphone rings. It's Olivia, saying she's going in to see Jones now. Both the Bishops holler that they need her to stall, and Olivia says she'll do what she can, but she's only got fourteen minutes, starting now.

She goes in, and Jones is sitting at a table, looking appropriately evil. She strolls across the floor and sits down. "What a pleasure this is," he says. She puts a cellphone on the table and says they have Smith in custody. "You will not speak with him directly. You will ask me one question that you want answered. I will relay that question to an agent back in the States, who will talk to Mr. Smith. I wi

ll then relay Mr. Smith's response to you. Then you will tell me how to save Agent Loeb. That is how it works."

He looks at her for a moment, and then he tells her that she's quite serious, wondering if it's because her friend's life is in the balance. Well, he certainly puts the "genius" in "evil genius." She asks him why, since he has the leverage, he didn't ask for his freedom, or at least extradition. He tells her that she's made two incorrect assumptions. The first is that there's nothing more valuable than his freedom, and the second is that he's responsible for the infection of Agent Loeb. I think a third assumption has been made: that the viewer's not going to be rolling their eyes at the poor man's quid-pro-quo Hannibal Lecter scene here.

Back at the lab, Walter runs into Gene's to grab a beaker or something. I've been calling her Jean instead of Gene because it's a COW after all, but I understand that the name is short for "Genetics" so henceforth, Gene it is. He rushes back out into the lab and tells Peter the problem is that he thinks too much, which is a "family curse." Peter's own brain function is interfering with the process. "You need to be a passive receiver." He's got a syringe that he says is a sedative to numb his higher brain function. He's mixed it with a euphoria inhibitor to clear the high from his system in a matter of minutes. I have no idea if any of this makes any sense. All I know is that Walter whips out this HUGE syringe and gives it to Astrid, who looks like she's never, um, handled anything that big. He tells her to stick it in his chest, beneath the breast bone, if he tells her to. Peter's all, hold on, what the hell is that GIANT NEEDLE you're holding, and Walter tells him it's adrenalin. Peter's seen Pulp Fiction, though, and asks if Walter's planning to stop his heart. Walter tells him not to worry, which is hard to do when you've just remembered dear ol' Dad used to hook you up to car batteries when you were a kid. But then Walter injects the sedative, and Peter gets all giggly, which is when Broyles comes in, wondering just what the hell is going on, with Samantha in tow, horrified at the sight of her husband.

Back at Science Prison, Olivia asks Jones who did infect Loeb, and he suggests it might be the same people who brought them together. "What if someone wanted information from the both of us? You see? Perhaps they've orchestrated all of this. What if you and I -- both of us, at this very moment -- were being manipulated?" Olivia asks him who would do this, and what they want. "You've not been doing this very long, have you?" says Jones, adding that, while nothing surprises him anymore, he's confused why they haven't got on with the business of saving her friend.

Well, that would be because Peter's high as a kite back at the Harvard lab. "This can't possibly be scientific," says Broyles. Walter's patting Peter's cheek. "Daddy?" says Peter, very out of it. Walter figures they're ready, so he tells Astrid to call Olivia, who tells Jones to ask his question. "Ask my friend Joe, where does the gentleman live?" Olivia relays the question, Astrid nods at Walter, but as he turns the knob, Loeb starts having a seizure. Walter says the parasite is choking him of nitroglycerin, and he tells "Asteroid" to get the nitroglycerine in a vial on the desk. "I don't understand, a parasite?" says Samantha, like maybe you can have the discussion AFTER Walter saves your husband's life? Astrid tells Olivia she'll call her back, leaving Olivia to try to conceal her surprise at having been hung up on.

"Is there a problem?" asks Jones. Olivia smoothly says that her cellphone doesn't get the best reception in prison isolation cells. "You do have Mr. Smith, do you not?" asks Jones. Olivia asks him why he thinks Smith would co-operate with him after he had Smith arrested. I seem to recall that Jones just wanted to speak to Smith. I'm pretty sure Jones didn't "have him arrested." Anyway, he says the people he works with are loyal to the end, and asks Olivia if she can say the same.

Olivia doesn't have to answer, because her cellphone rings again. Astrid says they're trying again, and asks the question. Walter cranks the dial, the lightbulb glows, Peter convulses, but Peter didn't hear anything. "We're going to have to increase the voltage," says Walter, apologizing to his son.

Again Astrid asks the question, Walter cranks the voltage, sending Peter into agony. But still nothing, and now the prison guard is warning Olivia that her time's almost up. "Astrid, I need the answer now," she says, and Astrid tells her it's not working. I can't believe Jones hasn't just bailed on the whole thing.

Peter, freaking out, starts shouting that he needs paper, because he sees something. Astrid quickly gets him paper and a marker, and Peter frantically marks down a series of a dozen or so vertical lines. "What is that?" asks Astrid. Peter says he has no idea. I think they're going to need to get Snoopy to translate: that looks exactly the way Woodstock talks.

After the commercial break, the guard is getting angrier with Olivia, who totally takes it out on Astrid. Peter stares at the paper. "Walter, what is this?" he asks, and Walter says, "How do I know? You saw it, not me."

The guard yells at Olivia some more. "He seems rather irritated with you," says Jones. "Astrid, please! I have no time!" shouts Olivia, like maybe Astrid isn't AWARE of the urgency of the situation.

Peter, still looking at his sketch, says there's something missing. Walter's all, duh, horizontal lines. He says there's literature on misrepresentation of horizontal space due to brain damage. While Jones makes a tick-tock sound at Olivia with his tongue, Walter tells Peter that the bullet may have destroyed the part of Smith's brain that helps him process horizontal lines: "We are going to have to fill in the blanks." Peter stares at the paper, and then starts drawing, looking like he's doing it on instinct.

Meanwhile, the guards are actually forcibly removing Olivia from the room. But Peter's finished, and after adding lines to the top, middle and bottoms of some of the lines, his paper now says "Little Hill." Good thing there were no X's or O's! "Little Hill!" he yells. "Little Hill?" says Astrid. "Little Hill!" yells Olivia, practically digging grooves in the floor with her fingernails as the guards haul her out of there. Jones looks up, somewhat surprised, then says, "Three parts mebendazole. Two parts thermophilic hydrolase. A syringe directly into the parasite." Fortunately, it appears that Walter's got all this stuff at hand, because at this time of night, the only place that's going to be open is 7-Eleven, and they really jack up the price on their thermophilic hydrolase.

Walter injects the parasite, and immediately the roots in the IV line start to wither. Samantha says, "Does that mean ... is Mitchell gonna live? Is he gonna be OK?" Walter says he thinks so, and Broyles thanks him.

Lucas rides with Olivia out to the airport, and she tells him Jones asked her a question about loyalty, and something about the way he said it, it felt like he knew something, maybe about betraying the Bureau. Lucas tells her he has other means of gathering information about Jones. "If you'd like me to use them ... say yes, Olivia. It'll give me an excuse to call you again." Olivia smiles. I think she needs to give Lucas a reason to keep it in his damn pants for once.

Back at the hospital, Broyles is talking to Loeb, recovering in a proper hospital. "While you were unconscious, we made a discovery, that an organization with connections to The Pattern may have someone working for us, on the inside." John Scott, says Loeb, but Broyles says it would be someone with higher security clearance. "Scott's the only one I know of," says Loeb. He weakly jokes that Broyles is making him paranoid. "All I want to do is make you better. I'll see you in the morning." As Broyles leaves, he says hello to Samantha walking in.

Outside the room, Olivia strolls up and asks after Loeb, and

By Daniel

Broyles stares at him for a few moments, and then walks over to Peter. "We need to discuss your father," says Broyles. Peter says, "Is it the fruit cocktail thing again?" Broyles says it is, and Peter says his dad's been doing that lately, the way you'd say, "My car's been making a clicking sound lately." "We need him to focus," says Broyles, which gets Peter's full attention. He swings around in his chair and points out that two-thirds of the time his father's not even lucid: "And in those rare and unpredictable moments of clarity, he rambles on about the foods and beverages that he missed while he was incarcerated in a mental institution for the better part of the last two decades. To say that he's not focused? Is to say that he's a biped." Walter likes women and men? I must have missed that. Peter says nothing's going to change any time soon, and he doesn't have a remote control. If Walter's listening, and Peter's certainly speaking loud enough for him to hear, he's not showing it. Broyles just stares at him, like he pretty much has to do with every member of his ragtag team. "There's no master switch I can flick and turn him into the man I wish had raised me, or even somebody I don't have to babysit every day." Peter's ranting over, Broyles rolls his eyes slightly. Peter says he must have had that on his mind for a while. "Apparently," says Broyles, dryly. His cellphone rings.

By Daniel

Also, Lennox hands over a note from Jones. Olivia opens it, frowning.

By Daniel

Meanwhile, the SWAT team's locking and loading as they arrive at Smith's place. Peter swerves and speeds, Olivia tries to get through the thick skull of someone at HQ.

By Daniel

Walter gives the signal. Astrid says, "What's your favourite flavour of ice cream?" Walter cranks the dial, and the electricity crackles, making both bodies convulse. Peter groans. "Anything?" asks Walter. Yeah, that's NO, says Peter. So Walter tries again, with Astrid asking what Smith's favourite colour is. More convulsing. "Nope, still nothing. Just extreme discomfort." Shouldn't the electricity be cranked before the question is asked so Smith can hear it? Wait a minute, what the hell am I even asking questions for?

By Daniel

The guard yells at Olivia some more. "He seems rather irritated with you," says Jones. "Astrid, please! I have no time!" shouts Olivia, like maybe Astrid isn't AWARE of the urgency of the situation.

By Daniel

Outside the room, Olivia strolls up and asks after Loeb, and after Broyles says the doctor removed the thing (making sure to save it for Walter), Olivia starts running down the list of all the questions that still aren't answered, like what "Little Hill" means, and who infected Loeb, etc. "We don't know anything," she says.

"You have a problem, Agent Dunham," says Broyles, crapping all over her because she's not easily satisfied, she wants everything, how a small victory is no victory, blah blah blah. I'd recap more of his "lecture," but after a few moments of what sounds like a lecture, he says, "Your dissatisfaction is what makes you so damn good," and I burst out laughing. I mean, even Lance Reddick looks like he can't believe what's coming out of his mouth. I'm sorry, but can we stop with the "Broyles lectures Dunham" scenes for a while?

Broyles leaves and Peter walks in and they flirt a little bit and Olivia asks if he's hungry and he says not after what he saw today (yesterday?), but he's really thirsty. Then, because Samantha Loeb hasn't been conspicuous enough in this episode, they have a gander at the devoted wife sitting by her recuperating husband.

Olivia and Peter leave, and Samantha looks to make sure they're gone. "So did it work, what we did?" asks Loeb. Samantha says it led them back to Jones. "Did he ask the question? Did we get the answer?" asks Loeb. Samantha looks around again, then leans in and whispers, "Little Hill," and we're out.

Visit the Fringe forums, and get