We cut to the snapshot up on a wall of like pictures, and pull out to see Neela absently staring at the one of herself, the Tsengs, and Dirk. She tapes it to Inga's incubator, her last act in the NICU. "You all signed out?" Abby asks. "Ever been to the Sky Bar?"
Suddenly we're on the roof, where Neela is choking on cigar smoke. "Disgusting!" she shouts. Abby hops around to keep warm, grinning and chugging from the bottle before passing it to Neela. Thank GOD Neela and Abby get along now. I like them much better as friends than as Smart Girl and Jealous Classmate. "Why are cigars associated with babies?" Neela wonders. "This stinky thing has no place in a nursery." Abby giggles that it's something Freudian about men wanting to have sex with their mothers. Neela rails against Weaver for getting them sparkling cider instead of champagne. "Weaver knows I don't drink champagne," Abby deflects deftly. She does? Maybe she knew Abby was Carter's sponsor, I don't know. Whatever. I don't even care how she knew. Abby then asks Neela if she's still considering neonatology. "Not in a million years," Neela says firmly. "I hope you didn't let Raab discourage you," Abby says. "It's more than that," says Neela distractedly, adding, "She thinks you should go into NICU, you know." Abby nods, but says she doesn't think she'll do it. Neela wonders if every department tries to recruit Abby. "Oh, please. Look who's talking! Your mind's a sponge!" Abby replies, embarrassed. Neela allows for that, but points out that Abby's got some intangibles that are harder to learn. Which we already established in that tiny clip in the "previously on," so I don't know why we needed an entire new episode to dump us back where we already were. "I don't know what it is, but it's harder to learn," Neela sighs. No one mentions that it might be Abby's many years as a nurse that give her a leg up with regard to dealing with patients and using her instincts. Instead, they just act like she was born with The Magic. Abby tsks, "I think all that cider's going to your head," but she looks secretly quite pleased, and swigs some nonalcoholic cider with a tiny little grin on her face, because suddenly she's A Brilliant Doctor despite the fact that she's probably still failing all her tests, and oh, I think my Bitch Pants will be delighted to hear that I feel a swelling in my chest that indicates I'll be wearing them next time.