"Drops of Jupiter" is not a good song. I don't care what advertisers want me to think.
Abby joins Carter at the front desk, informing him that Mr. Stegman's troponin is positive -- which I believe means his muscles are contracting normally, but I confess the definition of "troponin" that I found made my eyes glaze. "I sent Mooney to the library," Carter tells her. "Good call," she tosses off. She also has test results for Large, who Carter explains is Susan's patient. "Uh, Dr. Lewis," he corrects himself suddenly. Abby leans against the desk. "Has she always been so high-maintenance?" she asks in a low voice. Carter argues that she isn't, and hasn't been, and that he really likes her. "Abby, could you get a rectal temp in room four?" Susan requests, appearing from thin air. Abby snarkily asks if that will be all for now. "That should do it," Susan sighs, irritated, walking to the counter and resting against it. Carter grins that he heard all about her hit man. "More like an enforcer," she corrects. "Never a dull moment," Carter trites. Susan groans that she could sure use one, so Carter decides to do the noble thing and give her more work. Hiding two charts behind his back, he tells her to pick one arm. "This is a set-up," she whines. Carter just insists that she pick an arm, so she taps his left. "Are you sure?" he asks. "No," she giggles, tapping his right arm instead. He hands her the chart. "Female abdominal pain!" Susan complains. "What did you get?" Carter impishly tells her he scored a suture removal. "This is definitely a set-up!" Susan whines. Whoa, tone it down, Sherry. My eardrums already bled out during Wolf Lake, and I can't afford another disaster. Anyway, Carter finishes that his suture removal is on a scrotum. "Oh, maybe not," Susan concedes. Heh! I bet it's painful for guys to do anything with testicles that involves rips, tears, and holes.
"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.