After separating with Christine, Oliver started to go about making beds just as he'd been instructed. Thankfully, most people were much too busy with their own work to pay him much mind beyond a question or two about when he'd gotten there, and Christine's cover story worked well enough for that. He was actually rather impressed by how smoothly it was all going, as he was far more used to visiting places with the Doctor and having their cover go anything but. No one even seemed to be watching closely enough to notice that his bed-making skills were a little under par, which was a relief.

The hospital smell did bother him as he worked, but he put it out of his mind as best he could do. It helped that visiting empty rooms meant he didn't have to see any actual patients, and the one time he saw a stretcher coming his way in the corridor, he had enough time to duck into an empty room before actually encountering it. He tried to comfort himself by thinking that at least Christine wasn't watching his embarrassing fear. But that was the point at which he decided it was time to go back to the storage closet. The last thing he needed was for any of Christine's colleagues to see his discomfort.

So he wheeled his cart back to it, ducking inside to hide. When the door very soon opened, however, he tried to cram himself into a corner as tight as he could do, praying that whoever this was wouldn't spot him. His mind raced with possible excuses, but beyond the old trick of claiming he had been looking for something, he was at a loss. He closed his eyes, trying again to go to the Plane. Why wouldn't it work!?