At Our Lady of the Mood Lighting Memorial Hospital, Olivia and Bryce are catching up on their patients, and Ned Ned's condition pops up. Bryce shares, "I can't stop thinking about that guy. How does somebody possibly go from being Caucasian to African-American?" Ask C. Thomas Howell -- he's got plenty of free time now that the idiots at NBC have cancelled Southland. Bryce noodles on Ned Ned's vision some more, and Olivia is all am-cray on the ision-vay, which Bryce does not pick up on at all. So Olivia changes the subject all, "So how are those weekly sessions with the psychiatrist going? I ran into her ..." and it's Bryce's turn to go on the defensive. He's all, "You know, it's only been two weeks since the entire planet passed out and we discovered that things like planes, trains and automobiles don't operate themselves. I've been busy." Olivia's regained the upper hand, so she snaps, "You want to keep working here, you need to follow up with psych at least twice a week. You got it?" Bryce does.

Any further discussion is interrupted by a boy's shout, a metal tray flying out into the hall, and a flustered Lloyd trying to retrieve said tray whilst spilling coffee down his shirt. Olivia flashes back to her flashforward (drink!) and makes an awkward moment even more so by just staring at Lloyd until he mumbles, "Sorry," and flees back to an agitated Dylan. Olivia begins making noise about getting Dylan off her rounds.

Mark is in FBI Boss Dude Courtney B. Vance's office making the case for a jet-setting adventure to Somalia. It is not going well: FBI Boss Dude Courtney B. Vance points out that Mark got to take a field trip to Germany last week on the strength of an index card. Mark points out, "And it paid off." FBI Boss Dude Courtney B. Vance does not have the same definition for "paid off" as Mark does: "You found out some crows died in Somalia." Agent Al Gough pleads, "If a blackout happened before, that would be major." FBI Boss Dude Courtney B. Vance assumes an air of sweet reason: "I agree. Why haven't we heard about it before? Last I checked, all you've got is a footnote in a CDC funding request." Gough protests that he's trying to track down satellite photos from 1991, but the CIA apparently has better things to do than dredge up 18-year-old photos.

After the meeting, Mark muses, "Remember that hacker we busted, the one who broke into the DOD's network, trying to take our overseas drones for a joyride? Don't you think [Mr. Cheeto Dust] would find Langley's mainframe a delightful challenge?" Gough is all, "Yes, because he gets his yayas off the illegal aspect, not the technical-challenge aspect. Also, please do not make me an accessory to any federal offenses you may be planning." Mark bats his big brown eyes at Gough and goes looking for Demetri.