Some time later, Demetri's stretched out on an office chair in Janis's cube, asking how many postings there are on Mosaic thus far. The answer: 900,000 and counting. "This site's taken on a life of its own. Everyone's got a story," Janis says. Then things get uncomfortably personal. Janis continues, "It's funny: I've never had that ticking-clock feeling. You know, I've never even had the urge to have a baby." Then don't. It's still legal in this country for women to have a say in whether or not to have kids; the decision is still in their hands. Demetri points out that maybe, the sonographer's waiting for Janis to post her experience, so Janis goes ahead and types out her flashforward (teary sonogram, learning it's a girl), then tells Demetri, "Your turn." He reminds her he didn't see anything, and expands, "I met a woman today who didn't have a vision. Five minutes after she told me, she was shot and killed." Well, then you've already outlived that statistical sample, Demetri. Buck up!
Janis asks if Demetri's talked to his fiancée Zoey about this, and Demetri wryly points out, "In my experience, fiancées aren't really big on their grooms dying before the wedding." Yeah, but if she's a control-freak bride, she'll be even more upset if she doesn't have advance notice. After all, a lot of those deposits are non-refundable. Demetri keeps going, "It ruins the first dance -- heavy corpse. It's bad wedding etiquette or something." Well, it makes pre-cana challenging, at the very least. Janis reasons, "If you're going to be dead -- and that's a big if -- don't you kind of wanna know how it happens?" Demetri is not a big fan of spoilers, but Janis talks him into posting on Mosaic with "If you know how it's going to happen, maybe you can prevent it. And maybe there's someone out there who has information that can help you."
Meanwhile, out at stately Benfield manor, we see Mark brooding before a roaring fire. Olivia comes down, protesting that it's 3 a.m., and Mark mutters about not wanting to wake Olivia. He toasts her with "ginger ale?" She declines and Mark knocks back his Canada Dry. They make some small talk about his workday, and Mark finally reveals why he's so damn broody: "At work, I'm making moves [by] betting the future's going to happen as I saw it. But here at home, with you, I'm praying it doesn't." He takes another drink, and we see that Mark's not wearing Charlie's bracelet anymore.
Olivia asks if she did the right thing telling Mark about Lloyd in her flashforward, and he assures her that she did. "We shouldn't keep secrets from each other," says the man who is busy flashing back to his flashforward of his drinking. "Why'd you make a fire?" Olivia asks. "No reason," Mark replies, as we see the friendship bracelet merrily burning away. Good to know Mark's on board with that total transparency thing!
As Demetri's walking to his car, his phone rings. A female voice which is the aural equivalent of velvet, or dark chocolate, or a really good single-malt after a perfectly-prepared rare prime rib ... anyway, the woman says she's calling in response to Demetri's Mosaic posting. Demetri asks, "Who is this? How'd you get this number?"
The camera switches to a view of a chic, slender woman gazing at a gorgeous skyline on a foggy evening. It all makes sense now, as the woman is Shoreh Aghdashloo, who possesses a voice so beguiling, Comcast or United Air or AT&T should pay her grabillions to pre-record bad news messages because their angry customers would hang up, soothed and satisfied and totally beguiled into forgetting that these companies didn't do a damn thing to fix their problems. Truly, she's a siren. And here, she is playing a mysterious lady saying that she's not at liberty to divulge how she got Demetri's number, "But I can tell you my vision involved you. In my flashforward, I was reading an intelligence briefing, and I am sorry there is no delicate way to say this, but on March 15, 2010, you're going to be murdered."