Post-credits, Mark pulls up at County in the Milquetoastmobile. It's raining fairly hard as he dashes from the car to the ambulance-bay doors. Why? It's not like he needs to worry about getting his hair wet. Weaver is already standing there with a suitcase -- waiting for a cab, I think it's safe to assume -- and she asks him in a friendly enough tone what he's doing at the hospital. He tells her about his wallet and, indicating her bag, asks rather lamely whether she's going somewhere. She tells him she's on her way to a conference in Las Vegas, adding that she missed it last year and thought her attending would be the best way to put a dent in their deficit; she totally fails to add, "And to save face and have a good cover story for why I wasn't at your wedding, although now that the nurses know the real reason I hardly need bother." Mark awkwardly tells her to play a hand of blackjack for him, and she says she will. He starts to walk off, but she calls after him and says, pretty sincerely, "I want you to know how happy I am for you and Elizabeth." Mark nods perfunctorily, smiles tightly, and mutters, "Thanks." He takes off. Weaver looks at her shoes.