So the two of them haul ass up and down the streets, because it's not like they can fire off turtle shells at each other. Unfortunately for Fauxlivia, Peter's driving, so it's not like she can "accidentally" lose Newton. At one point the cars are beside each other and Newton and Fauxlivia actually look at each other, Fauxlivia looking like she has absolutely no idea what to do.
The chase winds up in a tunnel, and Newton wrenches the wheel to go around another vehicle, and winds up rolling his car. It's not explicit, but I think he did it intentionally. Our Fringe heroes get out of the car, with Peter calling Broyles while Fauxlivia approaches Newton's vehicle, and does her best to whisper at him so Peter can't hear. She grabs the disk from his jacket (Newton grabs her wrist and stares at her for a moment before letting go) and then calls out to Peter, "I can't find it, but, uh, we can search properly when I get him custody," like maybe they can put him in a crocodile tube until he talks, and really, one of the "little things" that I imagine Peter has noticed about "Olivia" since she's been back is that she ALWAYS SOUNDS LIKE SHE'S LYING.
Fauxlivia strolls through the corridors of one of those stylish, elegantly lit prisons you see on television. No sounds except the clanging echoes of the doors, no one around...
She's there to visit Newton, who asks if the Van Horn disk is secure. "It is," she says. Isn't Newton the kind of prisoner that you'd want in a cell that's monitored? No? You're sure? OK. Fauxlivia passes him a little tab of something through the sliding partition of his cell, and he looks at it. "You're gonna have a very difficult time without me, you know," he says. Maybe, but she'll probably also be subjected to fewer smug, condescending lectures. Fauxlivia snidely says that there are plenty of machines here: "I can befriend a vacuum cleaner," she says. Take it from me: vacuum cleaners are assholes, man. Always happy to smoke your weed but never chip in. You might even say they totally suck. Newton chuckles at how good she is at pretending not to care, and then he lectures her about how when she goes to sleep, her emotions betray her and she questions whether she can pull this off. "Words like 'integrity,' 'self-respect,' -- they haunt you. They form a line that you're unwilling to cross and that will lead to your undoing. But I suppose that's not my problem any more." Fauxlivia doesn't have a response other than to slide the opening shut, and walking back down the hall.













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