Abby roots around for butterfly bandages and can't find any. "In the cabinet by the sink, on the left," calls out Veggie Baby's mother, adding, "I've been here nine weeks." Well, then, the least she could do is scrub in for the occasional delivery. Abby smiles and thanks her, and then wanders over to where Jake's mother is feeding him. Carter is there, crouched nearby for a visit. "He looks great," Carter says. "His suck is still weak. But Abby tells me to keep trying," Mrs. Kyle says -- at which point Carter actually chucks the kid under his chin and coos in pompous baby-talk, "You! Keep! Trying!" It seems Carter's suck is still strong. My roommate actually covered her eyes. In the face of The Beard, though, baby Jake amazingly doesn't begin to sob. I'm surprised they don't make these people wear hair or beard nets -- Carter could be carrying any number of poisons in that monstrosity. Mrs. Kyle says she heard Jake might need another surgery in a few years. Carter shrugs that a cardiologist might know better, but Abby pipes up that sometimes the area where the aorta repairs gets blocked from scar tissue that can be easily removed in a cath lab. Carter looks impressed, and follows Abby into the NICU staff lounge so that he can better determine whether her ass is still as hot as when she was a nurse and he was trying to bone her.
"Looks like you're doing well here," Carter observes. Abby snickers that he should see her on rounds, where she stinks it up. Carter smiles, and then gingerly offers up that he and Kem took their first tour of the labor and delivery suites. "How can you call one room a suite?" he muses. "Counting the bathroom?" Abby grins. "Ah," Carter laughs. They fall silent, Abby regarding him with a twinkly smile on her face. "You're going to be a dad," she beams. Carter admits that he's a little scared by it all, given how much can go wrong, and how well he knows that. "You're going to be a great father," Abby says with total sincerity. It's a nice moment -- these two were so much better when they were just friends. The NBC Chemists ruin everything.
Virgie yells at Abby to go attend a delivery, so Abby starts to leave; Carter calls after her, "You're going to be a great doctor." Something foreign washes over Abby's face: actual delight. Carter trots off to find the exit by following the trail of beard hair.
Matt can't go with Abby to the delivery because his finger's rammed up some baby's pleuryl cavity, and my God, could they have written that a little less like it was evidence in the Michael Jackson case? He sends Abby off to the delivery alone. "Is that even legal?" she gapes, startled. Matt waves her off and assures her that he'll be right behind her. Neela decides to tag along. "You have to go home," Abby says. "You can't go to a delivery on your own," Neela argues. As they walk, Neela complains that she dreams about blood sugars and dosages. But she then whines that she hasn't slept in days, which calls into question when she had time to have these dreams. Perhaps she's hallucinating them, in which case she should really consider taking some more interesting drugs. Abby grins that Neela had better get used to this if she's planning to go into neonatology, and then encourages her to go home and try to sleep. Neela won't. I'm not sure why. Hooray for her for being a stalwart and everything, but even the Brave Little Toaster needs to be unplugged sometimes.