Review:

Another set-up episode.

A good one, to be fair. The performances were strong, the dialogue was sharp, and almost all of the characters were consistent.

That said, the usual problems were rampant: Niki's arc has stagnated, Matt's importance to the story is reduced to fixing water pipes, and Hiro and Ando are once again diverted from their mission.

Although Mr. Sulu was cool. He kept Hiro and Ando in a car park for most of the episode and he didn't get to say anything, but he was still cool.

And no Simone. Bonus.

It's not that the episode was filler. Even a less-than-stellar episode from this show is light years ahead of the strongest episode on another. But it's also relative to the suspense and drama on this show so far. This one felt a lot like "Godsend": it advanced the story arcs, but the pace slowed down. The essential components of the plot haven't changed since the previous episode.

Claire's still full of anger and resentment towards Daddy Bennet, but she's terrified to let on that she remembers everything.

Matt's wants to expose the organization which abducted him, but doesn't know where to begin.

Peter's still trying to understand what's happening to him, but needs help.

And Hiro's still trying to find his sword and regain his powers.

I could go on, but you get my point. The characters are in more or less the same place as they were at the beginning of last week's episode.

It started off slowly and got steadily better. There's the usual Previously... recap and Voice-Over Mohinder yammering on about what happens when we "embrace what lies within" or "deny our instinct," and how this leads to transformation. Somehow, this ties in with Matt fixing the leaky pipe and Mohinder wearing that awful scarf. I'm not sure how, but it does.

We get the scene that ended last week's episode: Peter sees Invisible Claude. Claude gets upset that someone can see him, knocks a few stalls over, and starts choking the life out of Peter.

Then Eccleston gets to say "Fantastic!" with thinly-veiled sarcasm. Doctor Who geeks across the nation erupt in applause. My applause this week was reserved for Mr. Sulu, but this was definitely a neat side-reference, along with Eccleston naming himself Claude Rains.

Peter is told that he's "one of those." Meaning, presumably, that Claude once knew other people with the same ability. Cryptic but intriguing, not least because the rest of the characters on the show have been discovering their abilities over the past six months. This implies that Claude has been using his power for much longer than the current batch of heroes, but it's also an oblique reference to the generation of super-powered individuals which Daddy Bennet was studying fourteen years earlier.

So Peter's all, "We're in danger! I'm going to cause a big explosion! I saw it in my dream!" And Claude's like, "Cripes! Well, skidaddle, mate, and save these poor souls."

Peter gets it into his head that Claude is the guy to help him with his ability-overload. Why he thinks this, when Claude's just an invisible pickpocket and doesn't seem to be any more of an authority than the other heroes in his vision, remains unclear. But Peter's like, "Be my friend! Hang out with me!", and Claude's like, "Mate, if you were the most popular kid in the schoolyard I wouldn't hang out with you! Sod off!", and he walks away until he's beyond Peter's sensory-range and turns invisible.

All is lost, it seems. Peter's unwilling-but-invaluable mentor just disappeared into the night, never to be seen again. But don't worry: in a couple of scenes, Peter miraculously relocates him. How? Who knows.

There's a lot of stuff this week which we're supposed to accept without asking too many questions.

Meanwhile, Matt and Janice are on the sofa, lying in one another's arms. Janice is thinking obscure thoughts about red elephants with blue stripes, and thinks it's the coolest thing ever that Matt can hear her thoughts.

It's sweet and romantic, sure. But it flies in the face of everything that's gone before. By the look of things, Janice really isn't too bothered that Matt read her mind and used it as a How-To guide to give her everything she really, really wanted. And Janice cheating on Matt seems largely forgotten, even when Matt later learns that she's pregnant.

Should we care? It seems not. Because guessing numbers and thinking of striped elephants fixes any broken marriage.

Daddy Bennet visits the lab at Primatech. What happened to make Sylar look like a living corpse? Don't ask. What's important is that the Anonymous Organization wants Sylar alive. Why? Because he's the Big Bad of the season besides Linderman.

Although if spoilers be true and Malcolm McDowell gets the part, Zachary Quinto's going to look pretty weak-ass by comparison.

But when the central villain of the story spends two episodes semi-conscious in his cell for no apparent reason other than the fact that it's a convenient way to drag out the story, you have to wonder what's going on.

Anyway, the scene here is almost word-for-word the same as the one at the start of "Godsend": Daddy Bennet looks at Sylar, the doctor says his vitals are bizarre, and Daddy Bennet reminds him that their orders are to keep Sylar alive. Even if the guy's a serial killer who would have broken out of his cell and gone on a murderous rampage if it wasn't for some unestablished plot device which mysteriously turned him into a vegetable.

Car park of thuggery. Hiro's pulling the scrunched-up face to freeze the clock at the attendant's kiosk. It's oddly reminiscent of the first time we saw Hiro trying to do the same thing at Yamagato. The only difference is he's now powerless. Why? Because of his broken heart, we're given to understand. How that's connected to someone's super-power is unclear, and at this point it feels more like an arbitrary way to create drama in Hiro's story; still, I can't help but feel for the guy when he gets this look of dismay that his powers are still out.

Then Hiro and Ando start talking about how they need to get Kensei's sword from Linderman, and it becomes confusing. I mean, didn't Simone say last week that she would help Hiro obtain the sword? Nathan can buy paintings from Linderman, so why can't he buy an antique samurai sword? And if Nathan could arrange for one of Linderman's paintings to be delivered to Isaac's apartment, why not a sword? And why do Hiro and Ando need to drive all the way back to Vegas when they could just ignore the story in "9th Wonders" and fly?

Again, I guess we're not supposed to ask.

It's not like this stuff intrudes on enjoyment of the plot. Hiro and Ando's scenes are as wonderfully well written and entertaining as always. But the arbitrary nature of the plot gets to a point where you have to wonder if this scene in the car park was set up just so that Hiro and Ando would end up in a van and meet Pa Nakamura. There are a bunch of ways the story could have gone which would have made more sense.

A bald guy stands next to the [PRODUCT PLACEMENT!] Nissan Versa. It doesn't occur to Hiro or Ando that he might just be admiring the interior to the advertisement-friendly vehicle. Based on the gun, he's bad. So they run. A van of similarly menacing thugs shows up, and Hiro's like, "Uh-oh." Funny, but kind of limited. This week, the character arc consists largely of running around a car park and being transported in the back of a van.

Opening sequence. Sorry, guys, not impressed so far.

Brooklyn apartment of exact science. Mohinder has apparently now taken his father's place as the all-knowing authority on super-powers. Because there's no better way to convey that someone's in the know than a bog-standard microscope. And even though he doesn't have any super-powered individuals to study as yet, he's now qualified to hook people up to monitors and assert that there's nothing special about them.

Nathan shows up and greets "Doctor Suresh." Surprisingly, he doesn't wave a copy of "Activating Evolution" in the air and ask Mohinder whether he's Chandra Suresh. They recall their first encounter outside Petrelli HQ. Mohinder concedes that he came across as a "deranged lunatic." Dude, you were totally a delusional and single-minded lunatic.

Nathan tells Mohinder that he's worried about Peter, and that Peter's "gonna somehow hurt people." I can't figure out whether Nathan's worried that Peter really WILL turn nuclear and blow up New York, or whether he just wants a second opinion before he ascribes the "deranged" verdict to Peter. Nathan's skepticism faded last week, so I'm assuming at this point that Nathan believes in Peter's ability and his vision.

Mohinder proudly shows Nathan the list that Papa Suresh compiled. He points out that Nathan's on the list. "I didn't come here to talk about me," says Nathan. Quick line, but it seemed to highlight how Nathan has grown since "Genesis". His biggest concern when Mommy Petrelli's kleptomania came to light was the impact it would have on polls. The last person he's thinking about now is himself.

It seems like Nathan's bid for congress has become a non-issue since then, though, so I'm not sure whether this is more about Nathan's development into a caring character or his diminishing involvement in campaigning for congress.

Anyway, Mohinder tells Nathan that Peter blends abilities like colors in a mosaic. Nathan calls Peter a chameleon, 'cause Chameleon would be a cool superhero name for the kid brother. Mohinder prefers to call him a sponge. So Nathan now needs to come up with a load of Spongeman jokes.

Nathan asks Mohinder if he can "fix" Peter. You know, by altering his genes or developing inhibitors or some crazy-ass DNA resequencing which would sound hokey even if this show was set in the 24th century.

But then, maybe that's what Sulu's doing on the show.

The fact that Mohinder suddenly becomes more of a genius than his dad is something I can forgive. If it brings Mohinder into the main plot and involves him in the central story, I'll forgive any implausibility. And at this point, the same applies to Matt and Niki. If there's a remotely rational way to bring them into the main Petrelli and Bennet storylines, I'm all for it. Because these characters desperately need to become relevant.

This episode was significant for Mohinder because it finally hinted at the character gaining some purpose in the story. It gave him a chance to do more than sit around theorizing. When he tells Nathan that he can "help" all of the individuals on the list, there's the prospect that he could at least come into contact with all of them and be a part of their story arcs.

Peter conveniently locates Claude on the rooftop to Charles Deveaux's building.

Read that again.

Fortuitous, or just plain arbitrary? That's what I mean when I say stuff happens this week which we're not supposed to question. And it bugs me. It's different to Peter just happening to find himself in the same taxi as Mohinder and striking up a conversation about destiny; back then, it was a happy coincidence which provided a neat way for the characters to meet, but it wasn't essential for the plot to move forward. Here, the plot actually hinges on Peter finding Claude on this rooftop.

It's like Sylar's inexplicable capture after the end of "Fallout": certain events are necessitated by the plot, even if they don't have a logical framework.

That said, praise should go to Eccleston for the solid performance he gave this week. As forced as the character's introduction onto the show feels, the actor does a superb job of conveying how the character casually uses his ability to help himself but doesn't have any interest in exploring his or other people's ability. Peter's warning of an explosion awakens a sense of obligation in Claude, which I guess flies if you figure he had a heroic streak at one time.

But then, that's part of what makes the Peter/Claude friendship a two-way process, because while Claude's playing Obi-Wan and instructing Peter, it seems like Peter's going to rekindle Claude's sense of responsibility to help people. And even if it doesn't get enough screen time to play out this week, the potential for their friendship to develop is there.

Bennet House of nefarious schemes. Claire gets Zach to search Daddy Bennet's computer for evidence of machinations. In particular, she's hoping to uncover files marked "My Evil Scheme," "Why I Wipe My Family's Memories" and "Mr. Muggles: The Endgame."

Mr. Muggles serves some purpose this week besides being cute and making Sandra look like an obsessive dimwit: he alerts Claire and Zach to Daddy Bennet's appearance at the back door by yelping frantically. It's really not clear whether Mr. Muggles likes Daddy Bennet. Daddy Bennet seems equally unamused by the mutt; he gets this look that's like, "Should I poison you now or throttle you later?"

Fake smiles abound. Claire's all, "Hi, Daddy-who-lied-to-me-my-whole-life-about-my-parents-and-my-ability." Zach's like, "Yo, Dude-who-wiped-my-memory-and-has-a-really-fine-daughter." And Daddy Bennet's just, "Aw, shucks, that kid's not hanging around my little girl again, is he? MIND-WIPE!"

The wind chimes at Claire's window were a neat detail, particularly the way the camera faded from Claire's metal chimes to Matt and Janice's wooden chimes in the garden. Neat visual link to segue from one story to another. Matt tells Janice how he was abducted by Daddy Bennet, and how the secret organization is the one which "did this" to him. Which isn't exactly true, because Matt was hearing thoughts in "Don't Look Back" and "One Giant Leap" before he collapsed at the bar; but if Matt thinks the abduction is what intensified the ability, then OK. It could've been clearer, but OK.

Matt insists that he can't call the FBI for help because they'll think he's crazy. Especially AudreyClea, who's probably charging into radioactive houses without back-up right now and fondly recalling how cute Matt was in Texas.

The Epic Plumbing Saga begins. This is the defining moment for Matt, as a character and as a hero on a show about people with extraordinary abilities. Because when it comes to using one's power to save the planet, nothing beats fixing leaky pipes.

*Sigh*

What did Greg Grunberg do to deserve this?

The one consolation here is that the old gem about Matt's control over his ability resurfaces: Janice wants to know if his telepathy is something he can't or won't control.

Well, GOOD! Finally, the issue comes up. It's dismissed again after Janice gives Matt "one more freebie," and it isn't addressed as directly as I think it should have been much sooner, but the fact that it comes up at all is reassuring.

Car park with no escape. Hiro and Ando, despite previously being caught between one thug and a van full of them, have managed to find refuge beneath a truck. This leads to much comic banter about the lengths that Ando has gone to for his friend, but more importantly, it allows for the revelation that Hiro is going to trade Isaac's dino-painting for the sword. Because that's totally an equal trade, and Linderman's sure to agree to it.

Ando asks Hiro why people are "always" chasing them. I might be wrong here; the only other occasion I can recall was the Montecito, and Ando was the one who caused that. In any case, I got the distinct impression this week that Ando was ready to go back to Tokyo. Between the complaints here and the look on his face when he's offered first-class tickets home, it really doesn't seem like Ando's keen to continue with Hiro's mission.

The two reasons why he was indispensable until now were (1) he speaks English, and (2) he provides chauffeur duty for Hiro. Given that Hiro's six-month love affair with Charlie drastically boosted his English, and given that Hiro could easily wind up in the company of a character who can drive (if he's never going to teleport anywhere … ever … again), Ando's relevance to the plot is beginning to feel tenuous.

I'd be sad to see Ando written out of the show. I hope it doesn't happen. Hiro's comic appeal would evaporate without Ando to bicker with, and James Kyson Lee's doing an amazing job playing the part. But the character suffers the same predicament as Simone: he's a redundant supporting player. He's here as an adjunct to Hiro's story, just as Simone is to Isaac's, and just as D.L. and Micah are to Niki's. Although in Niki's case, the adjuncts are more compelling than the main character.

The driver of the truck which Hiro and Ando are hiding under shows up. By some incredible turn of fortune, Hiro and Ando lose no limbs as the car moves away.

The thugs show up and give pursuit. Hiro throws himself over a fence next to the car park and gets away. Ando has this uncouth way of standing on the fence before jumping off it. It proves slower and dumber, and he gets caught.

Hiro's loyalty prevails, and he returns to the car park to offer himself in Ando's place. "I am very special!" he cries. "Release un-special Ando!" Aw. Masi always seems to make the most ridiculous lines sound endearing.

"This is how we roll." Funny. Subtle nod to Ando's line at the poker table in "Better Halves", but also a show of camaraderie between the two, and perhaps the strongest indication why Ando's likely to stick around rather than be written out.

Unlike, say, Niki, whose story thread pretty much hits a brick wall this week. If it isn't Simone who gets written out, my guess is it's Niki. Sad, but true.

Niki wakes up in her padded cell and finds her straitjacket has been removed. Dr. Withers sits on the other side of the cell and tells Niki that she's been assigned to Niki's "case." She knows about Jessica, about Niki's marriage, about her website, and about the "accident" which killed Jessica.

And Niki's all, "Yeah, whatever, either come clean and tell us you're a plant for Linderman or give me another shot."

Withers posits that Niki's a "classic case of multiple personality disorder," and Niki's like, "Oh, lady, you are SO a plant! 'Cause any psychiatrist woulda said 'dissociative identity disorder.' Nyah!"

Niki tells Withers that she's wasting her time and should just go. As in "Fallout" and "Godsend", Niki's convinced that no one can help her. Which would be saddening if it wasn't so frustratingly unclear. The problem dragging this thread down is that it hasn't been explained; thirteen episodes in, the show still hasn't established where Niki's strength comes from, or whether it's her sister's ghost possessing her or an alternate side of her own personality.

Mystery works up to a point, but we're past that point. Now it's just exasperating. Most of us have given up wondering and moved on to simply not caring.

Strangely, though, the supporting characters in Niki's thread are gradually developing a sub-thread of their own. D.L.'s struggling as the inexperienced and hapless father, and Micah's trying to continue the semi-normal life he led when Niki was at home. It sounds as lame as Matt fixing the water pipes, but somehow it works much more effectively because of the dynamic between the characters. We care about D.L. and Micah, but we also care about how they relate to one another, and how they're going to come into contact with the other characters.

That said, am I the only one who thought Micah took on a different personality this week? The kid who was previously so intuitive and supportive becomes obnoxious and vindictive, telling D.L. that he makes bad lunches and rebuking him for not paying the rent.

Is D.L. responsible for Micah robbing the ATM? Indirectly, yes. But the fact that Micah seems to actively take pleasure from using his ability to steal erases his portrayal as an aspiring superhero. Gone is the kid who played Scrabble and idolized the superheroes he read about in comics. This brings him closer to a life of super-powered juvenile crime.

I'm not saying D.L.'s free of blame as a parent, because he doesn't seem particularly organized or conscientious about looking after Micah. But when the kid points out that his dad's useless and storms past him, I can't help feeling sorry for the dad.

Texas refinery of enlightenment. Claire and the Haitian meet, and it's effectively a reprise of last week's scene. Claire again laments that everything she says to her father is a lie, and that it's killing her to fake a laugh and a smile to maintain her cover.

The Haitian, quite rightly, asks whether another mind-wipe whammy would put her out of her misery.

It's not that this was melodramatic. Hayden's performance is as moving and heartfelt as last week, and Jimmy Jean-Louis conveys a subtly disguised sympathy for Claire when he talks about her parents. But when the show tries to pull off what's virtually the same scene as last week, the performances inevitably lose their impact. The only difference here (and admittedly it's a key one for the plot) is that instead of begging the Haitian to restore Zach's memories, Claire's asking him who her bio-parents are.

Bio-Mom's death fits with the account that Daddy Bennet gave Isaac in "Seven Minutes to Midnight". Given that he had no reason to lie about her death, as the Haitian says, it would make sense that Daddy Bennet genuinely has no idea that Claire's bio-mom is still alive.

So Claire takes the rather vague lead that her mother "died in an explosion here in Texas fourteen years ago," and gets Zach to pull up archived newspaper articles and narrow down the search to a dozen names. Frankly, based on the genius necessary to achieve this with information as scarce as that, I fear for Claire's survival once Thomas Dekker has been written out of the plot. With Zach gone, the information-gathering duty's going to fall to either the Haitian or Mr. Muggles.

The Haitian exits, and Claire's left standing alone and looking very isolated. Awesome directing by Terrence O'Hara for that shot.

Daddy Bennet returns to Canine Central. Sandra's complaining about the groomer missing one of Mr. Muggles' nails. Daddy Bennet's all, "Forget this, I'm gonna have the next whammy make her love hamsters. Or turtles. Or manatees."

Or even something non-animal-related, like crocheting or discus-throwing, because Sandra's totally the type who'd get into those.

Then Jack Coleman gets this brief moment when Daddy Bennet's staring into space, trying to figure out what's going on with Claire. And the actor brings this uncharacteristic uncertainty to the on-off villain who's always in control and who always has a plan. Neat character moment.

Did Claire and Zach visit the Burnt Toast Diner, or is the same set being used as a different location? I can't figure out whether Claire and Zach carried out their wi-fi research out of town for fear that they'd be discovered, or whether the show needed a location quickly and decided to use the same set and pretend it was local. Either way, nice internal continuity.

Zach's memory-wipe extends to Kermit? Now that's just cruel of the Haitian. Some stuff you shouldn't take away from a kid's childhood. You can imagine Daddy Bennet telling the Haitian to take everything from the past two weeks of Zach's life. And then take the Muppets. Tragic.

Police Department of redundant flying saucers. Matt withdraws his report of the Sylar case, but gets a six-month suspension.

Grunberg's had a bunch of occasions when he made Matt genuinely sympathetic. The backstory with failing the detective exam and hating himself in "Six Months Ago" was particularly well delivered. But this was the first time I truly felt sorry for the guy; not because he was suspended from the career he was so determined to pursue, or because he was branded a loony and came home to leaking pipes. The saddest part for me, and the part which somehow ties Matt's story with the premise of the show, is that he hoped he could use his power to save people at the same time as boost his career. And instead, Matt's ability got him suspended.

It doesn't save Matt's story, but it adds a dimension to the show's exploration of super-powers which hadn't been there before. Isaac's arc looked at how an ability leads to destructive substance abuse; Niki's looked at how it becomes so dangerous that the only way to contain it is behind bars; but Matt's is unique because it looks at how something which started out as a gift, something which hooked Matt up with the FBI and got him another shot at the detective exam, turns out to be a curse.

Luxury apartment of the hospice nurse. Peter packs a bag, evidently preparing to visit Nevada and go nuclear without endangering the people close to him. Nathan shows up with Mohinder. Mohinder says he's here to make up for past mistakes, and that he'd like to "help" Peter. Peter gets this look that's like, "Dude ... the SCARF! Help yourself, man!"

Mohinder tries to explain that with research and analysis, he can establish what's wrong with Peter and find a way to cure him.

In this week's Unsolveable Predicament, Peter needs to decide whether to (1) accept Mohinder's offer to help, knowing that if he doesn't get help from someone soon his vision will come true, (2) ask Mohinder to visit Nevada with him and find a cure there, (3) tell Mohinder that there isn't time for study, and that neither he nor Nathan can stop Peter from leaving town if he wants to, or (4) agree to do anything that anyone wants if they'll only take him back to Odessa so that he can meet that gorgeous cheerleader one more time.

What shouldn't enter into the predicament is the idea that Peter, the guy who tracked down Mohinder and begged him to visit Isaac and consider the notion that New York might explode, would now refuse help from the one guy who might have a clue what's going on. The fact that Peter's leaving to protect the people around him is as self-sacrificing and noble as it was last week. But it's also incredibly stupid when someone's standing in front of him offering help. More importantly, when that someone is the same voice of authority who Peter initially went to for help, it's inconsistent.

Peter tricks Nathan into thinking he'll stay, then darts out of the room and leaves Nathan and Mohinder wondering if he flew out of the corridor window. Oddly, they don't check the sidewalk below to establish whether or not Peter was successful.

Claude finds Peter. How, when he walked away from Peter and expressed no interest in ever finding him? We're not supposed to ask. But the scene is good enough that you forgive the implausibility behind its set-up; Claude grabs a beer from the fridge and grudgingly agrees to help Peter learn how not to become the source of a nuclear explosion.

Claude tells Peter that he's "not much of a people person." You have to wonder why he'd be swiping a cellphone when Peter found him, but it underlines that something happened to change Claude from a hero-training Obi-Wan to a grungy pickpocket. Hopefully it'll become clearer as the season goes on.

We learn that Peter's training will be arduous. More so than being hooked up to monitors in an apartment? Claude mentions that "they" were all sure they could stand up to said training, and Peter gets this subtle half-smile when he realizes that Claude has met people with the same ability. It's only there for a moment, but Milo pulls off that nuance; Peter's delighted that he's not the first Spongeman.

House of amateur plumbing. Matt fixes the sink and gets a round of applause from Janice. Watching him fix a pipe is nearly as heart-stopping as hearing him voice her thoughts about striped elephants.

Janice assures Matt that their marriage isn't over, and that they "just have to trust each other." It's good of her to be so sententious and forgiving, particularly after her infidelity. I'm not sure whether this scene was intentionally written to make Janice seem like a hypocrite, or whether she just happens to come across that way. Either way, I eagerly await the episode in which Janice meets AudreyClea.

Matt gets "one more freebie" from his wife's mind. Meaning, presumably, that from now on the invasion of Janice's private thoughts for the sake of preparing a perfect dinner will be accompanied by a five-dollar fee. Janice will be rich enough to call the plumber in no time. Hopefully she won't cheat on Matt with him too.

Janice is pregnant. Matt's thrilled. But is the child his? Again, a question we're not supposed to ask.

Prison of superhero pep talk. D.L. phases into Niki's cell and wakes Niki up. Niki doesn't seem particularly surprised that he's there, which raises the question of how much Niki knows about D.L.'s ability. Jessica found out in "Better Halves", but the implication until now was that Niki had no memory of what went on while Jessica was in control. So either Niki now has access to Jessica's memories, or the show just glossed over Niki discovering D.L.'s ability. Either way, you figure it would have warranted a line of dialogue about whether Micah knows that his parents both have special abilities.

But see, here's the weird thing: the scene fails with details like that, but others it gets just right. Niki telling D.L. that his shirt "smells like home," D.L. admitting that he's failing as a father, Niki pressing her forehead to D.L.'s, the way she has with Micah in the past. Those are the things that make me wonder why this story thread isn't working. I mean, if the show can craft a scene as carefully as this, why can't it come up with an arc that's slightly more compelling? If a scene can be written as perceptively as this, why hasn't someone on the set figured out that thirteen episodes of a character not understanding where her ability comes from and wrestling with an alternate personality just isn't entertaining to watch?

I can't figure that out, but this scene, top to bottom, showcases why Ali Larter and Leonard Roberts deserve more than the story they've been given. Roberts brings out this amazingly solemn and vulnerable side of the character, and suddenly Niki's the strong-willed one telling D.L. that she's counting on him to take care of Micah.

D.L.'s tactful enough not to point out that she didn't give him much of a choice when she ran off and turned herself in. Oddly, there's also no mention of turning to Grandma Paulette for help, even though she obviously would have welcomed back Micah and the son whose innocence she so vehemently defended.

Niki lays down the law. Micah needs his father.

To pack lunch.

To play Scrabble.

To strip in the garage for $39 an hour.

To slaughter the mobsters.

And, equally, he needs "boundaries" and "a strong hand." D.L. starts thinking.

No running away and reactivating broken payphones.

No intervening when Other-Mom and Angry-Dad are trying to kill each other in the Utah forest.

No knocking Dad's lunch, because the peanut-butter sandwich totally rocks.

And definitely no robbing ATMs to pay the rent. 'Cause D.L. just needed an incentive to relaunch http://www.lasvegasniki.com.

But Micah's working his cyber-whammy anyway, bypassing PINs and walking away with a wad of $20 bills and a smile that's like, "Yeah, baby, that's the ticket!" I really had the character pegged as the nascent superhero who'd be a natural contender to Hiro as the paragon of courage and integrity by the time we got to Season Five or Six. Now I'm not so sure.

House of soon-to-be-migrating teddy bears. Daddy Bennet brings Claire a book about manatees. I'm still not sure if he did it to show up Claire's story as a pretense or to help his daughter with her school project. The cool thing about Jack Coleman is he plays the devious liar and the loving father equally brilliantly, so I kind of wish it was both. When Daddy Bennet sits on the edge of Claire's bed and mentions that they haven't talked in a while, it doesn't seem like he's just trying to catch Claire out and expose her deception; he really misses the bond he used to have with his daughter -- the kind which he doesn't have with his son or his wife.

Claire gives Daddy Bennet this steady gaze and tells him that it's time for her bears to migrate ... to the dustbin. Poor Daddy Bennet looks like he's just been clubbed over the head. Evidently, he never imagined that the ClaireBear would forsake the bears from around the world; the ones which he spent good money on, and which he probably thought quite carefully about when he selected them.

In spite of his awe that a daughter could be so ungrateful, Daddy Bennet tells Claire that he'll always be there for her. And he gives Claire the steady gaze right back at her with such conviction that you know he means it. Even after he wanted to wipe his daughter's memory, you know he's somehow reconciled to the fact, and that he really loves his daughter.

Which in part is a testament to good writing, because on a show where this character's alternately abducting heroes and erasing his family's memories, to turn him into a sympathetic character is remarkable. But the larger part of it is a testament to Coleman, who plays this role with such versatility that he deserves enormous praise for it.

Prison of suicidal psychiatrists. Part of me really hopes that by the next episode, this psychiatrist will have been torn limb from limb. Not because she was dumb enough to insist on meeting the personality which, if she'd read Niki's file, she'd know gave guards at the prison broken noses and black eyes. And not because she shows zero compassion that Niki only wants to get out of prison to be with her son.

The reason I'd like to see Withers killed off is the fact that she delivered an ultimatum to Niki ("Either I speak to Jessica, or you might not see your little boy for a very, very long time") and SMILED when she said it.

If she's not a spy for Linderman or Daddy Bennet, she's just plain heartless.

Home of affluent backpacks. Micah waltzes in and tells his dad that he's been "out walking around." D.L. enforces the "strong hand" principle by instructing his son to SIDDOWN! Seriously, D.L. looks like he's about to open a vortex and banish Micah to the Phantom Zone.

He goes with Niki's advice to be honest, telling Micah that he's having "a really hard time here." In a neat contrast to the scene between Daddy Bennet and Claire, D.L. tells Micah that he wants to be a good dad, but that he and Micah need to "pull together." Awesome acting by Roberts in this scene; D.L. seems scared to admit that he doesn't know what he's doing, but hopeful because he's convinced that he and Micah can make things work.

Micah's not feeling it. He gives this mechanical, half-hearted apology and promises to try harder. Then D.L. gets a moment of stunned silence when Micah empties the contents of his backpack. And next week, D.L.'s either going to be insisting that Micah work his whammy on the ATM and make it suck the money back up again, or he's going to send his boy out for rent-money on a regular basis. There's a whole "desperate times" vibe here, but I'd like to think D.L.'s a guy with principles when it comes to raising his son.

Hiro and Ando come face to face with the Boss, and it's Mr. Sulu. He's looking mightily peeved. Next week on Heroes: the phaser comes out, and it ain't set to stun. Plus, don't call him tiny: he'll totally kick your ass. And don't ever tell him the Excelsior show isn't happening, because it SO is.

Now, how this fits in with Hiro's affinity for Star Trek is beyond me. It'll probably lead to more contrived in-jokes than necessary, but it's such a wonderful highlight for geeks everywhere that all I can do is squee with delight. This show is setting itself up as the kind of sci-fi that people will watch forty years from now. It's a fitting tribute that the man behind one of the icons of a show which made Heroes possible is now making an appearance, particularly as a relative of the most popular character.

A lot of you mentioned how thrilled you were to see George Takei appearing. I am too. But when his appearance had been hyped as the Big Event of the episode and didn't happen until the final minutes, it's like Eccleston's appearance last week: you can't help feeling disappointed rather than tantalized.

That, to me, is what dragged the episode down. It ends with two significant developments to the plot: Claire on the phone to her firestarter mom, and Sylar confronting Daddy Bennet in his cell. And then it leaves us waiting until next week. Like Hiro meeting his dad, like Claude agreeing to help Peter, like Micah revealing his ability to D.L.: the pay-off is pushed back to a future episode, leaving this episode as the set-up.

Which is necessary to the plot, of course. The problem is that dramatically it doesn't make for the strongest stand-alone episode.

Coleman, Roberts and Grunberg all got in some good performances. There were a bunch of holes in the plot which were large enough to pull me out of the show, but not so serious that they couldn't be fixed next week. And as a set-up, I can't deny that the episode worked extremely well: for the way it established the early friendship between Peter and Claude, for the change in the relationship between D.L. and Micah, and for the way it led to Claire searching for her bio-mom.

The episode accomplished a lot, both in terms of character development and plot. If it has a weakness, it's simply that it wasn't the most captivating or well-paced moment of the season.

3.5 out of 5