A gruesome murderer is on the loose, according to a newscast playing in some guy's room as he gets gussied up for a night on the town. He hits a nearby club and meets a woman with stunning blue eyes. You might think he's the aforementioned murderer, if you've never seen TV before. They head back to his place for a little making out, which ends with her casually snapping his neck. The Fringe Division arrive the next morning to find the guy facedown on his bed, with bits of his mangled, bloody, fluid-drained spine sticking up through the back of his neck. The lumpy red mess reminds Walter of shrimp cocktail, bless him.
An analysis of Shrimpy's spine indicates that he was bitten by a human. and that there's supposedly extinct syphilis bacteria in the saliva. They track the bacteria to a wheelchair-bound Dr. Boone in some residential research lab, along with other bioweapon goodies that link him to ZFT. He goes in for questioning and reveals he's an unwitting accomplice: Once he found out what his work was for (like that facial Silly Putty thing), he tried to back out, but ZFT took his wife Jillian. He agrees to give them info if they rescue her from where she's being held hostage in a Chinese restaurant. Olivia and Charlie bust into the place, and she's not there, but vials of the Super Syph that Dr. Boone needs are there. It turns out ZFT infected his wife and turned her into the spinal-fluid-slurping vampire that they're after, using the syphilis bacteria as some kind of carrier. Boone needs the vials to mix up a cure, and in exchange he'll tell Fringe Division everything they want to know. They agree to the deal, which leads to some awesome mad scientist bonding between Boone and Walter as they work together.
Along the way, we find out Boone was able-bodied just weeks ago, but tried to sustain Jillian with his own spinal fluid, to his own detriment. She continues her cycle of clubbing and killing, leaving behind a trail of ditched cars and bodies. Astrid comes up with the common denominator when she notices one of the victims reeks of booze, and a blacklight reveals a stamp on all their hands identifying the same underground club. Walter, being a good host, shares some tasty cookies with the guys who bring in the latest body. Peter, Olivia and Charlie head out to the club, Peter scanning the place with a thermal scanner to detect Jillian's syphilitic fever. They spot her, but she ducks out the back, where Charlie promptly tranqs her. She gets stuffed into the back of a car [Not an FBI van -- a car - Zach] with Peter and Olivia, who set about saying all kinds of dooming things like, "Oh, the ravenous spine-sucker will be out for hours," and, "Boy, everyone should drive with a police siren at least once before they die!" So Jillian wakes up right then and attacks Olivia, but Peter manages to shoot her with another tranq and they miraculously make it back to the lab without getting themselves into any more trouble.
Meanwhile, Boone and Walter have found a cure over Astrid's protests -- it's Boone's own spinal fluid, combined with some kind of super penicillin. This leads to Boone having a stroke and ultimately dying, but not before he gets to see the cure adminstered to his wife, whose freaky blue eyes fade to normal. Thoughtfully, he's left behind a VHS recording for Olivia, telling her who's been funding ZFT. It's... it's... William Bell! As in, Walter's old lab partner and the force behind Massive Dynamic. Dun dun DUN!
In the B plot, Rachel's been served divorce papers by Greg, who wants custody of the kiddo, which has both Rachel and Olivia very upset. Hey, look on the bright side... at least you don't have syphilis!
Outside a busy club, Buddy's cellphone rings. "Hello, beautiful," he says, in a slight English accent, and the woman on the other end is all, "Where have you been? Did you get my message?" And the evil murdering foreigner invents some lies about being at a conference, and catching up on his sleep, and turning off his phone. "Hey, come on, now. You're starting to go down that road again. Before you know it, you'll be all upset," he tells her, when she seems unconvinced, and he blames this on having more to do with all the miles between them, and "all that dreary weather you're having in Portland." He says she'll feel better when she gets back tomorrah, and he'll cook for her. She says she'd like that, and he lies about having to go have dinner with "these insufferable suits from Hong Kong" like she can't even hear all the loud club music in the background. "I hope it won't be too awful," she tells her poor boyfriend. "You never can tell," he says, totally scoping out his next victim because HE'S OBVIOUSLY THE KILLER. And he walks inside, passing the club's star logo on an outside wall.
So inside is like the one club left in the world that still plays Bauhaus, which gives way to She Wants Revenge, while our hero scopes out all the pretty people dancing under the flashing lights. One blond beauty standing by herself catches his eye, and she gives him a look, so he makes his way over. "You know what's funny? Before I came in here, I thought I was good-looking," he tells her. Ugh. She gives that the eye-roll it deserves while still seeming to appreciate the compliment. Then he gets all real with her by saying that he can tell she's his type of girl. "How do you know?" she asks. "I know these things," he says, his voice getting all husky. But before he can finish seducing and, you know, KILLING her, her boyfriend shows up, and Buddy gets all deferential, all "Cheers, mate," and slinks off. So he finds someone else. A brunette, dancing by herself, eyes darting all around the club. "I can tell you're my kind of girl," he says, not at all freaked out by the fact that her eyes are Smurf-blue. Look out, next victim and totally not the actual killer!
Next thing you know, they're making out back at his loft. He's doing the "I'm so into you I'm holding your head with both my hands" thing while he rams his tongue down her throat. She sits him down on the edge of the bed and starts caressing his head, but seconds later, she snaps his neck by doing that "arms moving in opposite directions" thing. Is it really that easy? I think you probably need to take a class to learn this. Probably has something to do with her presumably super strength.
Meanwhile, it's midnight in Portland, and the dead guy's poor girlfriend (who we all know is better off) picks her cellphone off the nightstand and dials. Miles away, her boyfriend's phone goes unanswered on his own nightstand, while his one-night stand cleans the blood off her face in her bathroom, and there's an odd crunching sound as she sets her jaw. Over on the bed, the poor bastard lies on his face, bloody spine exposed under ripped flesh. God. Same thing happened to my roommate freshman year.
So while Ella colours at the dining room table with some other kid, her aunt Olivia pops the cork on a bottle of wine and pours a glass for Rachel, who says she has to hear how "Helen and Neil" met. This would be the couple sitting canoodling in the living room. The Neil half of the couple explains that they were both single, in their thirties, and wanted to have kids despite not having met anyone. "Then I heard about this program called Two Singles Together. Two Singles Together was the answer for us." Rachel calls it a matchmaking service, and Neil annoyingly corrects her, calling it a "a way of life." And how it works is ... uh, well, it appears that the two of them had sex but don't actually spend any time together? "I have my own schedule, works for me. I have no interest in controlling Neil's, either," says the Helen part of the equation. So they go on separate vacations, apparently. "Doesn't that kind of defeat the purpose of being in a relationship?" asks Olivia. Neil and Helen look at her like she has two heads, before they point out all the things they agree on, like where to live and which kindergarten their future fucked-up kid goes to. "Incidentally, I want to make sure Ella can attend Graham's birthday party," Helen tells Rachel, who says she already RSVP'd on the class signup, but Helen points out that was for Neil's "rock-climbing party" for Graham. Her party for Graham is the following Saturday at the science centre, don't you know. Olivia gets up, presumably to add some vodka to her wine, and instead of saying, "You are a nutjob," Rachel gets up to answer the doorbell. As the sisters scatter, Helen and Neil look away from each other and we can hear them bickering in the background, with her complaining about him always talking about Two Singles Together. Oh, and also telling him that he's drinking too much.
Meanwhile, Rachel's having her own crisis, having been handed a package by a messenger. "Greg's filing for divorce," she says, tearing up. Olivia's sympathetic, but Rachel doesn't want to break down in front of Helen and Neil: "They'll make me join Two Singles Together," she says. Heh. The sisters go to rejoin the annoying couple, but fortunately for Olivia, her cellphone rings, and she excuses herself, having just been called in to work. "Oh, what kind of work do you do, Olivia?" asks Neil, and Olivia hesitates instead of just saying that she works for the FBI.
I have no idea what's going on at this crime scene. I'm all discombobulated because Broyles isn't the one laying out what happened. It's Charlie, over at the rake's apartment, and he says the victim's name was Bob Dunn, 33. Dunn's girlfriend just got back from a business trip to Portland and found him here. No forced entry. No witnesses, and the corpse matches the victim found by Boston PD a couple of nights ago. "Yeah, they don't know what to make of it. So now they have another one, so it's ours to mix up," says Charlie, and let's hope his shining optimism rubs off on the entire team, hey?
Meanwhile, the Bishops are examining the body, which Walter says reminds him of shrimp cocktail: "You see, the shrimp must be de-veined by putting a shallow cut down the back to expose the vein. Which, in fact, is not a vein at all, but the crustacean's intestinal tract." Since I worked for a few months as a cook in a seafood restaurant, I can confirm this, although it's worth pointing out to a disgusted Peter -- "That's another foodstuff I can cross off the menu for life," he says -- that yes, sometimes the "vein" is dark, and you can guess what that means, and other times the vein is clear. Either way, it gets removed.
Then Peter sidles over to Olivia to ask if she's OK, since she was "awfully quiet" on the car ride over, and she doesn't seem her "normal, chipper self at a bloody, gruesome crime scene," like maybe Olivia should explain herself for not running around cracking inappropriate jokes all the damn