The base of Olivia's food pyramid is coffee, but according to "Jacksonville," coffee is a rarity on the Other Side. Ever try to jump on the caffeine wagon without a running start?

She was a wreck.

She'd been a wreck since they'd gotten home from the Other Side. Nervous, rambling, trembling by the end of each day.

Peter had dragged her off for drinks the first night, and that had worked but only until the next morning, when she was right back at it.

It had gotten better, slightly, over the course of the week, but she came in every day and he knew she hadn't slept the night before. He wanted to put her to bed in one of Walter's mad-scientist chairs with a blanket, but she insisted on working and he could only hand her cup after cup of coffee to keep her going.

He asked her, almost begged her, to talk to him. In her characteristic way, she insisted that everything was fine and looked upset that he didn't trust her to tell him if it weren't. He felt so bad, he brought her one of those specialty coffees she rarely got for herself, the kind with the whipped cream and frou-frou sprinkles.

On Thursday she fell asleep at her desk and he let her sleep.

On Friday he decaffed her, all day long, knowing she'd probably descend into bestial irritation but considering that it might be worth it if she slept again.

He was surprised to find her both peaceful and sane, and he took a lesson.

"I had to go back. I forgot to say skim," he said. He'd forgotten to say decaf, but she didn't need to know.

"You walked there twice? You didn't have to do that."

"I had a motive. It's the little things that make me irresistable."

She smiled and sipped the coffee that Olivia Dunham would have refused to drink, and it makes him sounds like an idiot for having missed everything else, but that's the thing that made him sure.

She wasn't her.