Luka returns to the baby, who's now lying on the bed. She's wrapped in this weird mottled grey sheet that looks like a piece of newspaper. Glark suggests that they sell the baby as "fish and chip." Aw, the baby's really cute and she's gumming her finger. She doesn't look sick at all. Lisa tells Luka the baby's temperature. Luka, leaning over to listen to the baby's chest, says her temperature and pulse ox aren't "too bad," and, straightening up, adds that he can't hear any wheezing. Lisa says that she "appreciated some retractions." "A little," Luka allows, and tells Dark Hair that they'll get a chest x-ray to be sure. He gives Lisa some orders. Dark Hair looks mournful. She's got a cold, lady. Take it easy. Which is pretty much what Lisa says, pointing out that the baby doesn't have a fever and that her lungs are pretty clear. Dark Hair frets that the baby still seems to have trouble catching her breath. Lisa explains that babies tend to breathe through their noses, so that they sometimes have trouble when they're congested, but that Lisa will clear the baby's nose with some saline and she should be okay after that. She takes off, leaving Dark Hair with the baby.
Weaver waits anxiously in the reception area outside Romano's office. After a moment, she asks his assistant (Brenda, right?), "He knows that I'm here, right?" Brenda, twiddling a pencil, says that he does. Weaver gets up and starts pacing, staring at the door and complaining that Romano should know that she's working in the ER today, and that she shouldn't have to wait: "He made this sound like it was some kind of emergency!" Brenda quietly says that she's sure Weaver won't have much longer to wait. Weaver finally loses patience and snaps that Romano can page her when he's ready to see her. Naturally, this is the cue for Romano's office door to open, and for Kim to come out. Weaver, taken aback: "Dr. Legaspi!" Mitchell, breathily: "Kerry." Weaver stares at Mitchell like she's never seen her before. Mitchell moves past her, and Romano dicks, "What are you waiting for, Dr. Weaver? A written invitation?" They go into his office, and he closes the door.
Trauma room. This wicked ugly kid, wearing a stupid headband and a green shawl tied around his shoulders, has his hand suspended in this thing that looks like a teeny set of stirrups; each finger is clipped individually, with the palm outward so the doctor (in this case, Mark) can inspect the hand. Green Shawl writhes and grunts in pain until (I gather) Mark finds a bone and clicks it back into place. Green Shawl asks if that's it; Mark says that Green Shawl will need a splint, and that he needs to check another x-ray. On his way out, Mark asks Malik to finish the splint, and to order a chem seven, cholesterol, and a tox screen.