Rain

Dead Baby Bike Race

"And people wonder why men have a shorter life expectancy than women," Emily mused out loud, amusement upon her face.

.

"Fools on bikes killing themselves. Natural selection is what it is," Her resident muttered, annoyance laced through her tone.

"So what's up with the Nazi? Is she off her meds?" Alex asked, rubbing his jaw.

"You never heard of the race?" George asked in disbelief. Izzie hummed cheerily as she walked beside the brunette, Emily swinging her arms in her pockets. They passed the O.R. board, where Burke, the Chief, and Derek were standing. Relaying the message of the Dead Baby Bike Race to the staff, the Chief clapped his hands to emphasize his point as their group continued onwards to the elevators. Alex, still in confusion, glanced at them for an explanation. George launched forward to fill any of his questions, his friends filling in any details.

Shrugging off her lab coat, she threw it onto a hook. Grabbing a trauma gown, she tied it around her waist. "Don't you wonder why someone would name a bar something so disgusting?" Izzie asked incredulously, her face twisted in disgust. Cristina smiled, jabbing her fingers into her side.

"Keep your pants on, Nancy Drew," Izzie made an offending sound as Emily tied her neck tie with a few stumbles.

"The race is completely illegal and-"

"-crazy," Meredith finished for him, rolling her eyes. "A bunch of bike messengers racing against traffic, trying to beat each other for free shots of tequila,"

"All-out, no-holds-barred, competition sounds like fun," Alex said, unwrapping his trauma gown. Emily rolled her eyes, spinning him around and tying his trauma gown for him.

"Yeah, you'd think that. I bet it's pretty fun when you break bones too, huh? Race doesn't even have rules." She added, as George shook his head, tying his own neck tie.

"Except eye-gouging. No eye-gouging," He gestured clawing, as if digging his fingers into an eye. Laughing, the hazel-eyed woman smacked him lightly.

"We're gonna be trapped in the pit band-aiding idiots when we could be in the O.R." Cristina voiced crossly, turning to tie Meredith's trauma gown. They made a line of tying knots as Emily and Alex waited.

"What kind of people engage in a race that has, as its only rule, that you can't rip out the eyeballs of another human being?" George asked doubtfully, almost skeptically. Emily herself was doubting the men's intelligence as she slapped on a pair of gloves.

"Men, Georgie, men," Alex said superiorly, his hands on his hips. Emily sighed, having already enough of Karev for one day.

"Guess you're not a man, then," Emily snapped as their resident rounded the corner.

"I need someone to get up on the O.R. floor. The Chief needs a right hand." Every interns' hand shot up. Except Meredith's. Disappointment filled the air as George was picked. The resident explained trauma rules efficiently, as she did most things. She left with a warning, one most wouldn't follow. Running after her resident, she nearly tripped. A gurney rolled past them, a man bandaged around his abdomen and arm. Her eyes scanned his injuries eagerly as reached the pit. Emily and Cristina spotted a patient, Izzie hurrying after them, immediately disregarding Bailey's rules as Alex and Meredith charged for another. Patients just kept rolling in.

.

"Unidentified John Doe, mid thirties, pedestrian," Cristina reported as she handed Derek a scan. "Hit by a motorist swerving to avoid a bike. G.C.S 3, pupils fixed and dilated. Atropine given for a pulse in the forties. B.P one-eighty-three over one-twelve. Pulse ox ninety eight percent." Handing another scan to Burke, Cristina let Izzie present.