Neela can't reach Fry Cook, and hangs up the phone in irritation. "Bloody hell," she curses. Abby's amused. Neela explains that she's futilely trying to find this seventeen-year-old with organ damage. "Is that even possible?" Abby muses. I wish, in a hospital that's seen every medical abnormality known to man, that they'd do a better job explaining why it's so unfathomable that a kid that young would have what amounts to shitty luck. It happens.
Assman strolls through the hospital, naked as the day he was born. Possibly even nakeder. "Anybody know whose patient that is?" asks an amused Sam. "Mine," sighs Abby. "Malik! Larry Godiva's taking an afternoon stroll!" Hee. Malik takes care of it. Guess he's on booty duty, which you'd think would be Pratt territory. Meanwhile, a guy comes in looking for Samantha Taggart. "You a process server?" Sam asks. He isn't. "Then that's me!" she chirps. The man laughs, as if this isn't the most trite little gimmick in the universe. Sam opens up the box he hands her, and it's full of a ton of take-out ice-cream sundaes from Baskin Robbins. Sam offers them around to everyone while smiling knowingly to herself.
As Rachel and a brooding teen wait in the other room, Elizabeth puts in a hushed phone call to Vulcan Jen to let her know that her daughter is safe. My screen then goes dark for a few seconds, hopefully in protest of the regurgitation of the Greene family saga. Elizabeth heads out into the lounge, and asks the boy -- whose name is BJ -- to give them a minute. Rachel sends him downstairs for fries and a Diet Coke, and he graciously thinks to ask Elizabeth whether she wants anything, despite otherwise looking like something of a stoned deadbeat. After he toddles off, Elizabeth sits down to chat with Rachel. Apparently, she doesn't live at home -- she and a friend from school have a place together. What the...? How are they paying for that? I highly doubt Vulcan Jen would be cowed into paying the rent, but maybe she's afraid Rachel will run away if she doesn't. I say, let her run.
Hot Dr. Lawson interrupts, calling Elizabeth away and purring in a low voice that he got those Itzhak Perlman tickets they'd wanted. He's right to whisper. That sounds damn dull. Well, except for dinner. And the implied intercourse. Elizabeth squirms. Evidently she doesn't want Rachel to think she's defiling Mark's memory, but Rachel is smiling privately with pleasure. Elizabeth awkwardly blows Lawson off temporarily so that she can continue chatting with Rachel. "Handsome," Rachel grins, referring to Lawson. Elizabeth tries not to choke on her embarrassment. Rachel asks to stay with her, saying she'd like to check out Northwestern and the University of Illinois. That's not in Chicago, but I guess Chicago's closer than St. Louis, so I'll buy that explanation even though I know she's full of more shit than a pig sty. Elizabeth sighs with relief and agrees to let Rachel and BJ stay. "Separate bedrooms, of course," she giggles. "Of course," Rachel nods. Because what's one night in separate beds when you can shag yourself silly back at your own apartment?