Morning dawns, pale flecks of sunlight spattering across the sleepy city. The bed is already vacant, the tell-tale sign of the morning shift. Yawning, she hastily fills her growling stomach with life-sustaining java. And after pulling a comb through tangled tresses she's ready to face the day. Well, physically at least.

For the first day of a new rotation, the time passes without incident, she chalks this up to the intimate knowledge she already has of the floor. With a new-found confidence she effortlessly assists and comforts, perfectly at ease. Before long she's called to the ER for her first consult and she potters downstairs.

Sliding through the doors to trauma one she approaches the patient.

"You rang?"

Kovac looks up from his chart and beams in her direction.

"You're in OB now?"

"It's like I never left."

He smiles serenely and hands her the chart.

"This is Ms Lopez, twenty-eight weeks pregnant, she fell in the mall and has been experiencing some discomfort since."

Twenty minutes and a diagnosis of Brackston-Hicks later, Abby heads back out to admit. But safe passage between the desk and herself is blocked by a more familiar pregnant woman, and Abby decides that perhaps now is time for a much needed coffee break.

"Abby," Kem calls.

One of the few french words in Abby's vernacular comes to mind upon hearing the Congolese beauty. Merde.

"Hi Kem," she replies, a too-bright smile fixed firmly upon her lips. Guilt claws at her stomach like an ill-trained cat. Her heart goes into v-tach. Or at least it feels like it does. She ponders upon how she would rather converse with anyone other than the person before her at this moment.

"John," the other woman cries, directing her attention behind her.

And Abby realizes the error of her previous ruminance. This time the word comes in her native tongue. Shit.

Carter lifts his head up from a chart at his girlfriend's call. After a second of startled eye contact, he painfully avoids Abby's gaze.

"John!" Kem repeats with childlike exuberance.

Abby can't remember feeling more nauseated.

"Why don't you take Abby with you?"

His head lifts up and she sees her own shame reflected in his eyes.

At his silence, Kem continues, "John has a benefit to attend this evening. I was going with him but I have to return home immediately. My colleagues have begun negotiations with a drug company and I need to be there. Why don't you accompany John tonight?"

The cat sinks its talons into her pyloric sphincter.

"I... I'm..." washing my hair? Having my nails done? Banging my brains out with somebody else's better half?

"Sure, why not?" she finds herself responding.

Kem looks ecstatic, Carter seems surprised, Abby feels ill.

He recovers fastest. "So, pick you up at eight?"