After a commercial break, night has fallen, and we check in with Walter, who's slowly walking down the street, talking himself through his bullet wound. "Dizzy... must be the onset of hemorrhagic shock," he says. He lifts open his jacket and we see his sweater is soaked in blood. "But I'm still walking, so the bullet couldn't have hit my spinal column. I'll be perfectly fine." Well, when life hands you bullets, make bulletade! And then he collapses in the parking lot of a hospital, and a couple of EMTs rush to help him.
Peter's still going over the documents his real dad left for him, and Elizabeth comes by to ask if he really understands them. "Maybe. I'm not sure yet," says Peter, and then Elizabeth says good night, and Peter goes back to work looking at the documents, which I imagine don't contain the instructions "Insert Peter here."
And Olivia walks down the street, and it turns out this universe not only has working phone booths, but technologically advanced phone booths with touch screens. The unfamiliar technology proves no match for Olivia's grim determination, though. And then there's Alt-Olivia coming into her apartment, and being greeted by a shirtless man named Frank. I can't exactly fault the shirtlessness. He was probably doing some laundry on his abs, and besides, if I had a torso like that I'd probably use any excuse to walk around shirtless as often as possible. "Daniel, as your supervisor, I must inform you that you're stretching the limits of what Casual Friday can be." Also, this way we can see that he's got a little two-tone tattoo between his shoulder blades, some kind of symbol. He asks after Lee, and Alt-Olivia says he's got third-degree burns over 90 percent of his body: "He's gonna need three months in a nanite regeneration chamber, but he'll live." She says she's sorry that this happened on Frank's last night, and he says he's going for a week, not until "the end of time." What an odd thing to say!
Frank, who is drinking wine, tells Alt-Olivia that this might be a good day to start drinking, and she grimaces and says she would if she could only stand the taste, like, WHAT KIND OF CRAZY UNIVERSE FEATURES AN ALCOHOL-HATING OLIVIA, and Frank asks what happened. "Just a... small anomaly that set off a fuel cell. It was just bad luck of the draw is all." She doesn't want to talk about work anymore, and she puts her arms up so he can take her shirt off. "I know what you need," says Frank, obliging. Yeah, you do? You're picking up on her subtle body language here, Frank? Adding to the list of ways to tell the Olivias apart, we've got hair, jokes, drinking and now white bra (Alt-Olivia) vs. black bra (Olivia). Here's hoping that's plot-relevant!