Susan's with the boring girl she treated earlier, telling her that she doesn't have gallstones. "I'll send off more bloodwork...you should follow up with your family doctor," Susan says pleasantly. Chen catches her on the way to reception and invites her to dinner, but Susan refuses in favor of taking a three-hour bath. Pausing uncomfortably, Susan overly cheerfully thanks Chen for the sweater and chokes, "I was using the Wood's lamp today, when I was wearing your sweater..." Chen, who had been erasing the board, pauses for a second and seems visibly uncomfortable before snapping back to attention. Susan babbles that there was a stain on her sweater. "It was club soda," Chen interjects, claiming she cracked open a can that exploded, so she took off the sweater to let it dry. This is actually more feasible, as you can't see dry club soda, whereas dry sperm is...dry, crusty, white, and most importantly to this crappy plotline, obvious. Susan laughs with relief. "Soda water glows under black lights, remember?" Chen adds superfluously. Susan squirms a little until Chen busts her on assuming it was spooge and that she's "this ER slut with spunk all over her sweater." Susan turns remorseful in a second, but Chen waves it off with the slightly pissy good nature of a person who's totally offended but is pretending she isn't.
Then, Chen storms into the lounge, stares at the sweater in sadness and distaste, and throws it out. She can't believe how stupid the writers made her. I mean, why in the name of common sense would she loan out a stained sweater in the first place, club soda or not? Second, if she's dating Pratt, as it's implied, then she isn't an ER slut -- she's just stupid and sloppy with the handjobs. But if she isn't dating Pratt, then why the hell has the show been implying that she is? Losers. All of them. This was a contrivance to do a semen storyline. I hate TPTB's semen.
Carter enters Trauma Green, where Biz's dead body is being wheeled away. Pratt is watching. "I heard the cop's going to be okay," Carter offers. "Good," Pratt says, visibly upset. Carter gently explains that he simply wants to help, or at least prevent Pratt from dicking himself over. "I'm not in trouble," Pratt insists. "What about Leon?" Carter busts him. Pratt finally chokes that Leon's twenty-seven, yet he's a scared little kid, and got himself involved in an armed robbery that killed a man and wounded a cop. Sidling up to him, Carter confides that he's pretty sure the police will pin this on Biz. "If Leon went away for a while, I doubt anybody would go looking for him," Carter hints. Pratt exhales heavily and leans against the wall. "I try to keep him out of trouble, but he wants to have his own friends -- he wants to be cool," Pratt exposits sadly. "And they talk him into doing stuff. I can't watch him every minute of the day -- I can't." Carter softly suggests that Pratt learn to let go, and not blame himself for all this. "Tell Leon I said goodbye," Carter says knowingly before leaving. Pratt nods slowly, then spies Gallant down the hall and yells that he needs a favor. I knew Gallant would come through. I knew he'd get Leon off the show. Everything good comes from Gallant.