Downtown, Ted gets his mug shot taken while Clea glowers in the foreground. A series of flashbulb cuts brings us closer to Ted, who has a mark on his neck.
Cut to Matt examining a similar mark on his own shoulder. It's two short parallel lines, like an equals sign (or the "pause" symbol). Enter Tommy, who recaps Matt's investigative day and calls him "buddy" a bunch of times while congratulating him. Matt demurs modestly, but his partner tells him that his "FBI girlfriend" (hell yeah) put in a request for Matt to retake the detective's exam as a series of interviews: "Can't blame it on the dyslexia this time." God, this poor actor, having to puke up these big chunks of background info; couldn't we have gotten this exposition in the form of dialogue delivered by Clea herself? Anyway, Matt didn't know interviews were an option, but Tommy says that Clea "pulled some strings," and that he knows Matt will pass it no problem. Matt is thrilled, they high-five, and then Tommy makes the mistake of echoily thinking to himself, "Loser. I'm nailing your wife, and she is so fine." I don't think this is actually how people who are boinking their colleagues' spouses think to themselves about it, but okay. Tommy finishes his thought with a sleazy "nyeh heh heh heh heh." Nice. Comprehension dawns as Matt slowly turns to Tommy and makes a "you dickhead" face. Tommy: "Hey, still wanna grab that drink?" Matt's fist: "Not really." Tommy's face: "[Crrrrunch!]" Matt yells that Tommy's a son of a bitch, and six other policemen hold him back as he slavers at Tommy, who's holding his face all "WTF?"
Oh, crap: Mohinder VO. "You do not choose your destiny," he says, as we pan through a no-tell motel parking lot and up to a pay phone. "It chooses you." Micah approaches the phone. Mohinder drones on about how people who knew you before fate "took you by the hand" just Don't Get It, Maaaaaan. Meanwhile, Micah picks up the receiver, looks at the "out of order" Post-It on the phone, and places his other hand flat on the phone beside the keypad. He closes his eyes, and then opens them again. Oh my, whatever could these spooky strings mean? Will Micah snap the cradle and get a dial tone, having powered a busted phone with his mind? Why yes, he will! Awesome -- although I think the kid needs to use his powers to speed up his parents' storyline, but anyway, he calls Niki. Jessica, futzing around with a gun, puts it down to pick up the phone, and asks if Micah's okay. He's fine, he says: "Are you?" Jessica's all, great, fine, so are you with your dad? Yes, he says; he just snuck out for a minute. Then Micah catches a snap and asks if it's really his mom. Jessica flatly says, by way of response, "Tell me where you are, baby." Micah sighs impatiently and tells Jessica, "Just -- put my mom on the phone." Heh. I knew he knew what was up. "Your mom's not here right now," Jessica says, "and she's not coming back until I take care of a few things," so Micah should just tell her where he is and she'll come bring him home, because Niki needs him. Micah gives in and tells her that he's at the Littlefield Motel off Interstate 14, but no sooner has he passed this along than D.L.'s hand enters the shot and plucks the receiver out of his hand. D.L. glances at the phone and asks if Micah is talking to his mom. "No," Micah says, looking straight ahead. "No, I'm just goofing around." D.L. glances at the "out of order" Post-It and tells Micah to come on, they have a lot of driving to do. Jessica: "...Micah?" Mohinder blathers about what stands in your way as Jessica hangs up, makes a thoughtful face, and puts the clip into the gun.