Props to all the bad-ass mofos that were kind enough to host Glark and me in Los Angeles this past week, and to Sars for holding the fort while we were gone.
Only one more recap stands between me and glorious summer. Mmmm, Juuuuuuuuuuune.
Previously on ER: Carla came on to Benton; a woman brought her neighbour's son, Ben Fossen, to County, and he was very bad; Mark told Mr. Fossen that they'd found some unusual bruising on Ben; Adele told Mr. Fossen that they were taking Ben away, at least for a few days; Mr. Fossen lost it and had to be restrained by security guards as Adele took off down the hall with Ben in her arms; Weaver told Carter that his application for Chief Resident was basically a joke to her, and Carter was sad.
Valium Villa. Elizabeth "The Mummy Returns" Corday dozes sitting up on the couch with Ella resting against her shoulder. Mark "Papa Doc" Greene creeps in, dressed for work in chinos and the Blue and White Checked Short-Sleeved Shirt of Milquetoastitude. He gingerly perches next to her on the couch and takes Ella from Elizabeth. Ella awakens but doesn't fuss, and Mark asks Elizabeth, "How'd she do?" Elizabeth says that the baby was up from 3:30 to 6 AM, and then "wanted to feed" at 7. Mark joggles the baby and tells Elizabeth to lie down and take a nap -- which strikes me as a good idea, since Elizabeth has barely opened her eyes throughout this exchange. Mark crawls forward on his knees to set Ella in her playpen. Elizabeth asks whether he's leaving, and when he tells her he is, feebly implores, "Please don't go," but she's so tired she really doesn't seem to care much either way. Mark whispers that he has to go. Mark settles Ella in her playpen and she drifts off almost immediately. Behind him, Elizabeth flops into a slightly more horizontal position and breathes, "I want you to stay." Mark says he wants to stay, too. She asks whether he can call in sick, and he says he wishes he could. "Just do it," she exhales, but before he can answer, she's already asleep. I like to think that this scene is a meta-statement on the craving Elizabeth is supposed to have for Mark -- or at least for Mark's company -- but that she actually doesn't have at all, which leaves her wanly going through the motions without much conviction. Don't try to dissuade me. My mind is made up. Mark wraps a throw around her and says he'll leave the van.
Seconds later (or so it seems), Mark wakes up on the El. He squints out the window to see a homeless guy judgmentally staring back at him as if to say, "Dude. Get it together. At least wait until you can get to a park bench." Suddenly, there's a loud explosion. A woman behind Mark asks the car at large what it was, and some dude across the aisle exposits that "they're demolishing the old textile building on State." "That'll wake you up," mutters a guy behind Mark. In a gesture of transit camaraderie, Mark smiles and nods. When he glances out the window again, the homeless guy is gone -- which, as any Classics scholar can tell you, is an unfavourable portent of pestilence and discord to come. If Mark knows what's good for him, he'll call back his armada and cancel the attack on Carthage. The car lurches forward.