eric_foreman: Eric Foreman from House - eyebrow raised (eyebrow)
eric_foreman ([personal profile] eric_foreman) wrote in [community profile] alwaysright2009-08-20 07:55 pm

October 29, 2007 - Evening

Nothing around here works the way it's supposed to work.

Of everything their John Doe--Robert Elliot--had said when Foreman had been with him, that was what rang the most true. It was stupid to think that talking with a patient with Giovianni's syndrome could change anything, least of all how he saw himself. The guy wasn't psychic; he was only picking up on the cues that Foreman had dropped inadvertently. Changing because of that was worse than stupid. It would imply that not only was Foreman ignorant about his own feelings and what he wanted, but also that he was spineless enough to act differently because of a stranger's neurological disorder. Foreman made his own choices. He wasn't looking for any advice, whether it was his own reflected back at him or not.

After the day's humiliation, Foreman had been more sure than ever that Princeton wasn't the right place for him. Less than an hour later, Chase had come up to him, clapped a hand on his shoulder, and laughingly asked if it was true.

Foreman fixed him with a furious stare. "I didn't know she worked here. And I didn't have to beg her every day for weeks."

Chase, far from being offended, just grinned wider. "Once a week. Anyway, I heard Amber was the one calling the shots."

Foreman didn't bother pointing out that Cameron walked all over Chase on a daily basis. "I have to run a biopsy," he said, turning to walk away, his shoulders hunched as he pushed his fists into his pockets.

"She seems like just your type!" Chase called after him. "Did you ever consider lightening up and enjoying yourselves?"

Fat chance of that. Not with the whole hospital in on the joke and watching. For what it was worth, Foreman didn't have to work with Amber directly for the rest of the day. Both of them were too busy running cultures and keeping the patient alive. Foreman let House do whatever crazy thing entered his mind. He didn't have any illusions about being able to stop him today, and Foreman was more interested in keeping his head down. In thinking about how to get away.

But when House sidled up to him with a job offer from Mount Zion, Foreman's first thought wasn't to jump at the opportunity. It wasn't even to suspect that House was having him on, dangling the possibility with every intention of yanking it away the second Foreman seemed likely to believe it was real.

His first thought had been, I can't go yet.

That had surprised him more than anything, made him stop and frown once he'd finally shaken House off. After having his affairs aired in the middle of a differential like a choice piece of gossip he couldn't believe that there was any reason not to take up the job hunt again. Farther afield, where the hospitals wouldn't have heard of him, or had their diagnostics cases redirected to Princeton-Plainsboro, so that they'd only know House by his reputation, not by personal experience. Maybe as far away as California; Foreman still had contacts there.

But he didn't want to go.

Partly it was the medicine. He'd felt in the thick of it again today. Working against the clock to solve a case. Challenged, following the clues from one to the next. He'd always loved that, even if he hadn't been happy working for House. But partly, Foreman knew, it was Amber, and he didn't know what do about that. He'd been shot down enough, rejected enough, that he should want to stay away from her just to avoid any more scenes like this morning's. Even so, he couldn't stop thinking about her. Wondering what she really felt and whether the attitude she'd shown in front of House was all there was.

Well, it didn't matter. He wasn't going to ask. Once the case was solved, all Foreman wanted to do was gather his things and escape. It was late, and dark, and he headed for the doors slowly, already knowing he wouldn't have the same luck he'd had on Thursday. Nothing worked out the way it should.

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