She watches him from the doorway to the morgue. His hands shake and he wipes sweat from his face with his arm. The decaying body of a cat lies on the steel table in front of him. He starts to make an incision but his hands are shaking too badly. Without thinking, she walks quickly into the room and takes the scalpel from him. He looks at her with bleary eyes. She puts the scalpel down just out of his reach.
"That's not the only scalpel in here," he rasps. He tries to stand but falls against the table. "Dammit."
She gets a pair of surgical gloves, snaps them on and picks up the scalpel. Making a clean incision in the cat's belly, she takes two pairs of clamps and folds the skin back.
"What are we looking for?" she asks softly.
He releases a shaky breath. "Something that killed the cat and is killing the kid."
Taking a pair of forceps, she begins to lift various organs. She lifts the stomach and he grabs her hand.
"Open it."
She puts down the forceps, picks up the scalpel and slices into the cat's stomach. He reaches in with the forceps and pulls out a termite.
"Naphthalene," she breathes staring at the bug.
He rises from the stool and places a kiss on her temple.
"Where are you going?" she asks.
He turns at the doorway. "Gotta stop the transplant."
Later he sits in his office, staring at nothing. She enters and stops in front of his desk.
"Was it worth it?" she asks staring down at the oversized ball on his desk.
"I saved the kid," he shrugs.
She shakes her head. "Not that. The bet. With Cuddy."
He is silent for several minutes. She looks up at him.
"Yeah," he says finally.
She nods and leaves.
He goes back to staring at nothing.