If I Should Fall From Grace

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If I Should Fall From Grace

Susan encounters Carter, as has been her pattern lately. He's still crabby and she's still worrying about Gamma. "She pretended [the diagnosis] didn't bother her and went home," Carter sighs. Susan's shocked that he let her drive, but apparently, Carter did make Alger come collect her. They bicker about whether Carter should notify the DMV that Gamma's a fainting risk and could be dangerous on the road. Carter didn't have the nads to start that fight with Gamma. "Dying is one thing. Not being able to drive is a whole different story," he says inanely. Susan won't let him worm his way out of this one, though, and even offers to rat out Gamma on his behalf. "She already doesn't like me," Susan notes. Carter seems interested in laughing, but a bellow from Abby interrupts the impulse. "Carter! Your patient went down!" she yelps.

Grace obliged me and collapsed on the linoleum. Thanks, G-Money, I owe you one. She apparently took a fainting lesson from Gamma, landing in exactly the same graceful, careful, fiddle-dee-dee position. As Carter and Susan scoop her up and onto a gurney, Grace's sleeve rolls back and they spy a gruesome set of cuts on her inner forearm, just south of the elbow joint. They look like tally marks, as if she's counting the number of doctors she's duped.

Elizabeth locates Romano and begs for an audience, but he's about to scrub into surgery because a crossing guard got mowed down by gunfire. He's prepared to let her rant right there in the prep room, but a second gowned figure which turns to listen turns out to be Babcock. Balking, Elizabeth covers by claiming she needs Romano's undivided attention, and simply pleads for his time once the procedure is finished. Romano regards her dubiously, but with implied assent.

Benton finally hooks up with Jackie at Doc Magoo's. She's chowing on some soup, having worked up an appetite doing leg work for her brother. It seems her pals who work on family-court cases think the worst thing Peter could do is fight the paternity test because it makes him look like he's trying to hide the truth. "Well, what if I'm just offended by the whole principle?" he asks, startled. Jackie reassures him that it'll be a quick and easy swab test that can nip the case in the bud in mere minutes and prove Reese is a full Benton. "What if he's not, Jackie?" Benton whispers. "Is that really a possibility?" she doubts, but Benton's eyes drip with unease.

Stealthy as a tank on gravel, Elizabeth barges into Babcock's research lab and surreptitiously begins rifling through his things. The Tell-Tale Heart beats loudly in the background. She unearths old pizza and stares suspiciously at his gallery of rats before finally yanking open a desk drawer. Bingo! A key, which unlocks a tiny dorm-size fridge tucked under Babcock's desk. She crouches down and scans its contents, convinced there's going to be a test tube marked "Death Juice," or "You're Mine, Corday. Mine! Bwa-ha-ha!" But alas, not one item in this very obvious "hiding place" bears sinister markings. Damn Babcock for being a criminal mastermind. "What are you doing?" a voice asks. Leaping to her feet, Elizabeth spots Babcock leaning against the door frame and realizes she's completely screwed. "You're out of surgery!" she stammers suavely. Rather than make up a stupid lie about how she was looking for a ratty month-old Meat Lovers Supreme, she instead coughs up something about her patients and needing to chat with him briefly. He furrows his forehead. "Doesn't matter anyway," she smiles too pleasantly. "It'll have to wait. I've just been paged." But before she can make a clean getaway, Babcock points out that she's about to make off with his keys. Hesitantly, she returns them, then runs away as fast as possible. All in all, that went about as well as any of us expected, and confirms our long-held theory that people on television all have fatally bad judgment.

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