A Saint in the City

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A Saint in the City

Jessie Callahan's machinery beeps us back from commercial. The backup power comes on as Carter begins trying to tend to her. "Thank God something's working," Weaver brats, wandering around sort of aimlessly. I think she's trying to free up the room for the alderman. I'm already sick of that phrase. "The alderman." The more I say it, the more I want to rinse out my mouth with steel wool and some Lysol. Carter announces that he's going to scan Jessie for internal bleeding. Jessie groggily asks where her husband is. "Get the lead out -- we've got a VIP customer waiting," Weaver snaps. Jessie, pissed that her life means so little to this small shrewish woman, stands up and whacks her on the head with a lead apron.

A pounding on the door snaps them to attention. It's Leon, peeking excitedly through the glass at Pratt. Flushing a little and shrinking under the confused glares of his coworkers, Pratt shuffles to the doors. "What are you doing? I work here!" he hisses. "Me too, G! I got the job!" shouts Leon delightedly. He's a huge hulking mass of glee wrapped in inappropriate volume. Pratt tries to quiet him while Weaver calls down to the engineers. "Get your fat union asses down here and fix the power!" she shouts, shooting Pratt a dirty look as Leon babbles about salary and benefits. Holy shit, he has benefits? I don't even have benefits. "I got the job! We're going to be working together, man!" Leon shrieks. Weaver crabs at Pratt to boot Leon out the door and resume work. Then, the phone cuts out. "Anyone have a carrier pigeon?" Weaver yells, trotting dutifully off-screen so that she can make room for Carter. On cue, he arrives. "Hey Leon, how's it going?" he asks casually. "I got a job!" crows Leon. "I'm glad to hear it," Carter says, smoothly switching the subject to Jessie. He orders Pratt to check the hemocue a second time before sending her up for her CT. Then he leaves Pratt to dispense with Leon. Pratt kindly offers to take him for pizza later to celebrate. "I'm working tonight on the late shift! I've got my own uniform and everything! Isn't that cool?" Leon rejoices. Pratt's super-skeptical of all this, but Leon assures him that he can pick it up himself. He's a big boy, he is. Pratt finally allows himself a smile and hugs his brother. "We're gonna be working together, man! Working together!" he cackles, trotting off down the hall as Pratt stares after him, wondering why he ever gave Leon the hospital's address.

The alderman is in a room now, Jennifer still screaming into the phone. "Somebody get me a fax number," she yells at no one. Susan points her in the direction of Jerry, not saying a word, especially because the word she's looking for is, I believe, "Getityourselfyoulazyhussy." Weaver enters and shares that Engineering is en route to work on the power. "How are you feeling?" she coos. "Pampered," Bright beams. "I'm sure you have other patients. This ER sees about 90,000 a year, right?" Susan cracks, "Oh, so that's why I'm so tired all the time." Weaver corrects him, claiming they see more like 110,000 people. "It's a damn miracle what you people do," Bright insists. Weaver snaps into Opportunist Mode, pointedly but calmly noting that their great team could do a whole lot more with better resources. In all her turned-on buzz about treating the alderman, Weaver has failed to remember that they're a county hospital and he's a city councilman. Still not David Blaine. Still not making patients disappear with a swoop of the hand. He's just an old guy in a suit. Bright gives a light laugh at Weaver's comment.

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