Luka follows Abby into the hall, insisting she shouldn't put herself in harm's way again and that he is genuine in his desire for her to stay with him. Abby's certain that Brian will be a non-issue and go to prison soon enough, but the apartment's lost its luster now that it's become a crime scene. "What's with the car?" she asks, deftly deflecting further questions. Blah blah blah life-is-shortcakes. Mmm, shortcake. "You look tired," Abby notes. "I was up late," Luka says. "Oh, really? What's her name?" teases Abby. Luka doesn't get it, so she has to clarify that she's kidding. He then reiterates his offer to have her stay. "Stay as long as you need, and you only have to sleep with me on the weekends," he says casually. "Excuse me?" Abby's jaw drops. "It's a joke, Abby," Luka grins triumphantly. God, he's cute when he's funny. And impish. And offering to sleep with her on weekends. Why did she have to look so horrified? Clearly she's insane. Clearly. I want to pass out.

Oh, good, its Dr. Elizabeth "Old Yeller" Corday, here to remind me how unwatchable she's become. She snipes that someone called for a surgical consult, and then blanches when Abby informs her that it was Mark. Professionalism calls me from a beach in Tahiti and tells me it's been living there for six months now and has a wicked tan.

Trauma Green. Burn Victim. We'll call him Guy Fawkes for all the British readers. Elizabeth isn't happy with Guy's stats or the flow of his breathing, but Mark insists he isn't ready to intubate yet. Elizabeth rudely disagrees with that assessment, but the arrival of Mrs. Fawkes interrupts this glimpse into Chapter Ten of Oops! I Did It Again: Office Romances And Me. Mark bounds out to deal with his patient's wife.

Mrs. Fawkes is freaking out. Mark explains that the burns caused Guy's chest tissue to swell, which in turn has impeded his breathing. Elizabeth is assessing whether he'll need a procedure to fix this. "An escharotomy?" Mrs. Fawkes gasps, horrified. Apparently, she's a nurse at Mercy Hospital, so she proceeds to ask knowledgeable questions and then gets weepy when Mark supplies honest answers. Guy? Isn't doing so well. Mrs. Fawkes explains that he had been painting furniture for their son's bedroom, but that he paints cars for a living, so he knows not to mix heat with the fumes. Mark promises to do what he can, and returns to Trauma Green.

Before he gets there, though, Mark sees that Elizabeth has already left, so he trails her instead. She makes a bitchy comment to the effect that Guy needs to be intubated. I hate her all over again. As she hoofs it for the elevator, Mark trots along and shares that he brought everything she requested for Ella. "What are we doing?" he whispers. Elizabeth ducks and feints to avoid direct eye contact. Mark begs her to come home because he misses them desperately, acknowledges her right to be angry, but swears that hotel living isn't going to solve any of their problems. "I'm not trying to punish you," she sighs, exasperated but clearly unwilling to throw him a bone of any kind. "I'm just trying to do what's best for Ella," she lies. Mark figures living at home with both parents is probably high on the What's Best For Ella list, although I'm sure room service for Mommy is a close second. Elizabeth concurs. "So when are you coming home?" he persists. "I don't know," Elizabeth says firmly, emotionlessly, as the elevator doors shut.