Moira’s POV

I finally finish writing orders for my patients on the floor, make sure I’ve called all of the consulting teams, and am ready to go see the nutty girl down in the ER.

Let me backtrack for a second here.  I’m Moira Evans, newly minted MD in my first week of internship down here in Los Angeles.  Only a month ago, I was a fourth year medical student, finishing up at the University of Washington.  Now I’m just trying to settle into California life.

Why’d I move down here from Seattle, aka lesbian mecca?  Well, let’s just say the community’s a bit on the small side.  In other words, once you’ve dated more than three women, you end up running into your exes at every lesbian bar or club you can find.  Worse yet, your exes end up being friends with your current love interest, and so on.  It’s a whole incestuous mess of lesbian link-ups.  So I figured, graduating, time to move for residency anyway, and I’d hear that LA lesbians are gorgeous.  So here I am, my first week in West Hollywood, ready to go out and meet and greet me some cute girls.  But first I have to get through my call night and the rest of the week. 

In the meantime, I can always daydream about cruising on the PCH in my chick-mobile (A VW bus to be exact) with a lovely lady by my side. 

My senior resident’s hand on my shoulder rouses me from my day dream, and I figure I should go down and start writing some admit orders.

Next thing I know, I’m walking through the ER when I see this girlno, woman, sitting on a gurney, apparently waiting to be triaged.  She’s gorgeous with short cropped black hair, beautiful eyes.  Wow.  Wish I could get her number.  I keep going, looking for bed four, where I’ll find my psych admit. 

Whoops.  Double take.  I realize I’ve just passed bed four, it’s the young woman I was so entranced by before.  Hmmon closer inspection, I notice that she seems quiet, too quiet, withdrawn somehow.  Taking a look at her, I can see the ER’s handiwork in closing the lacs on her forearms.