"All right, where is he?" Elizabeth barks, brusquely breezing into Reception. Susan is confused. "Mr. Ashman, I presume," Elizabeth says. "You paged me for a consult." Susan tries to conceal her triumph when she says an exam did indeed prove epigastric tenderness. "As predicted," Elizabeth says tersely, less than thrilled at Susan's accuracy. "I have the touch," Susan says politely. Elizabeth looks up and gives her a really funny fake smile, one of those that snaps right on and off the face. I use one every day before noon. "Better hurry before he finds his clothes," Susan says. Frank interrupts to tell Elizabeth that there's a code in the SICU on one of her patients. "You'll have to keep [his clothes] hidden," Elizabeth says, handing back Ashman's chart. See, they do fine together when the writers let them. I think the love triangle would be way more interesting if Susan and Elizabeth had hit it off and been friends first. Then, people might actually have a hard time choosing sides, although I admit I don't see many people out there clamoring for Mark to score with Susan. Or with anyone.
Susan greets Amal, a pretty young patient with stomach pain that's troubled her for a day. Amal is dressed very conservatively and stresses over how long an examination might take. Susan isn't sure. "Well, I need to be home in two hours," gulps Amal. "No matter what." So we know right away that the "what" will be dire.
Dizzy sprints toward her father's gurney, which Mark and Benton are wheeling toward the elevator. "His pressure's good, 110 over 60," Benton reads out. Mark explains to a worried Dizzy that her father is responding well to blood transfusions, but that he needs surgery to repair his lacerated liver. Dizzy wants to join them, but Malik holds her back and promises to come and collect her as soon as Alan's situated in the OR. Mark stays behind as Benton takes Alan upstairs. A cop grabs Mark to ask whether he's ordered a blood-alcohol test on Dizzy. "I smelled alcohol on her breath," the cop informs him. "A DUI with bodily injuries is a felony." Stunned, Mark claims that Dizzy wasn't driving, but the cop says she's changed her statement to admit that she was indeed behind the wheel. Weaver butts in by pretending she has something for Mark to do; then, when questioned, she noncommittally says that she might have smelled booze on Dizzy's breath, but doesn't know for sure. Mark and the cop argue back and forth over whether it's appropriate to administer a BAL test right now; Mark thinks it's awful, because Dizzy's dad is in critical condition and she's clearly distraught. "Because she hit him with her car while under the influence!" the cop says, exasperated. "Didn't seem drunk to me," Mark counters. Yeah, and your daughter didn't seem conniving, either. Fed up that Mark won't do him the favor of taking a blood sample, the cop passive-aggressives that he could just call a phlebotomist from the station, but Weaver interjects and promises him a blood draw -- but only after Alan's surgery is complete. The cop frets that he can't wait around and baby-sit the girl for several hours. "Well, come back!" Weaver sighs. "She's not going to go anywhere."