Weaver tiredly asks Abby if her narcotics count is off; apparently, they're short ten milligrams of valium, but it's insignificant enough that Abby hopes Weaver will sign off on it so that all the night nurses can go home. "Or, they can just learn to count," Weaver says coolly, handing Abby back the paperwork. Abby stares at her for a second, mentally chooses an orifice up which to implant the cane at her earliest convenience, and then stomps off in a fit.
With great gusto, Gallant announces that the rack is empty and he's off the board. In plainer language, he's got nothing to do but me. Weaver suggests that he go home. "You saying I can leave early?" he grins. He's so cute. "I'm saying it's slow, and you're an intern. We'll be fine," she says. Well, that's lovely, in a bitchy kind of way.
When Gallant gets home, loud music greets him. He calls out for Valerie to turn it down, knocking confusedly on her bedroom door. She appears behind him, dressed in a nightie. "Mike, you're home early," she gulps. Just then, Pratt's voice floats out from the bathroom, asking Valerie for a fresh razor blade. He emerges and comes face to shaving-cream-covered face with a steaming Gallant. "Morning, Mike," Pratt says with a slick smile. We smash to the credits hoping that Gallant finishes shaving Pratt with a nearby machete.
We come back to see Gallant, looking very much like he wants to throw something, sitting down and chatting with a guilty-looking Valerie. "How many times has he been over here?" Gallant asks, crabby. Valerie seems aware that there's no right answer to this question, because even if she says, "This was the first time," nothing can change the fact that Pratt banged her drum and Gallant's rabidly anti-percussion. "Just a few," Valerie manages. "Now I know why you were so interested in my schedule," Gallant hisses. Pratt coasts out of the bathroom and blithely asks if there's any coffee. Gallant's expression is, "Oh, how rude of me not to offer you some caffeine to get you through the day because you stayed awake all night pounding my sister. Want some condoms, too? Lube? The use of my fuck-swing?" Pratt shrugs that he's on the clock, so he should go, and leans in to kiss Valerie; just as she pulls away a bit, Pratt sees Gallant staring daggers into his heart, and instead takes rapid leave. Irritated, Gallant asks Valerie when her plane leaves. She says it leaves at 2. "Wake me up at noon," he says, stalking off. Wow. I know Pratt's oily and smarmy, but Gallant has got to relax. They're twins -- they share genes, not genitals. Let her use her vagina as she sees fit.