Anyway, Mark dispenses some wisdom he should actually heed: "That person you think you saw, that person you worry you'll be? That's not you." Then Charlie comes down and Mark proves he's a hell of a father and employer by cooking all the ladies in the room breakfast-for-dinner. (Scoff all you want: a man who can make pancakes after a bad day is a keeper.)
Back at the hospital, Lloyd's proving that he can scale a steep learning curve with regards to this parenting thing, and he is entertaining Dylan with a story that requires sleight-of-hand tricks. Olivia witnesses this heartwarming vignette on her way home to another heartwarming father-child vignette. Lloyd then says he's off to pick up dinner super-quick, and he's derailed from this errand when his mobile goes off and it's someone named Simon.
We see Simon, who is getting the menacing edit with the dim lighting and the ominous music and the apparent lack of sympathy for Lloyd's struggles to set up a feasible work/life balance. Lloyd's all, "Can't talk!" and Simon snarls, "Well, I'm truly sorry about that, Lloyd, but talking to me is just one of those little inconveniences you're going to have to put up with, now that we're responsible for the single greatest disaster in human history."
Dun-dun-DUN! The episode ends there, so as to better let the sweet irony of the situation sink in: Olivia's going to go from canoodling with the flashforward's principle investigator to snuggling with its chief instigator. O, THE IRONY! Now someone bring me another glass of chardonnay. This one has a fly in it.