...and Pointless Bit Part, R.N., barges into the adjacent exam room, where Abby is prepping Joyce for a head x-ray. Bit Part is crabby because she's being forced to work hard, and grunts her way through the room to find the missing supplies. She's not that interesting. Just a human scene transition. Abby ties on her lead apron. "Most of the time we totally click," insists Joyce, who has donned a gown and is perched on the end of a bed. "He makes me laugh," she adds pathetically. Abby doesn't respond, except to make Joyce lie down and get in position for the cheek scan. Joyce continues talking about how sometimes, Brian morphs into a different person, and even though she knows he's not the man she fell for, it's hard to walk away from their past as lovers and best friends. I've figured out why Joyce annoys me -- no matter what she's saying, it seems like there's a wisp of a smile on her face. It makes no sense and it's kind of distracting, much like Christina Aguilera. Abby tells Joyce to hold still, and the x-ray machine clicks. Wryly, Abby sits her back up and notes that Brian's answer to her ultimatum is pretty evident. "I didn't have a chance to give it," Joyce admits. Abby figures his wrathful fists speak volumes.
Elizabeth wants a neurosurgeon to read Ella's EEGs, so she's on the phone pulling rank when she suddenly notices a figure standing next to the crib. It's Rachel. Coldly, Elizabeth approaches the crib, unsure what to expect. "She smiled at me," Rachel notes hopefully. "That's good, right?" Her stepmother allows a thin smile. Rachel reveals, unprompted, that she was thinking about taking the Ecstasy at a party but forgot it was in her backpack. She looks guilty and apologizes, but at the last second, I swear she darts an analytical glance at Elizabeth, as if to gauge how well her speech is playing. Elizabeth is impassive. "I know there's nothing I can do to make it right," Rachel begins anew. "You can leave," Elizabeth says calmly. "You can pack up your things and leave my house." Caught off-guard both by the words and by the eerie calm behind them, Rachel stammers that she has to check with Vulcan Jen first. "Then call her," nods Elizabeth serenely. Rachel clamps her mouth shut to keep her jaw from swinging open, and hastily exits the room. Elizabeth decompresses, looking tired and puffy and pink.
Abby chases down a harried Susan and calls her attention to Joyce's chart. She needs a face laceration mended. Susan's more focused on the sudden agglomeration of patients in the halls. "Why is there a pregnant woman squatting in the hallway?" she marvels testily. What, you mean everyone's hallway doesn't have one? Apparently, an accountant is running the desk because of the Great Bagel-n-Bowl Plague, which accounts for the backlog. There's an accountant joke in there somewhere, but since I don't find accountants especially amusing, I'm too lazy to find it.