amber_v: Aw, man, don't pout at me (lean)
amber_v ([personal profile] amber_v) wrote in [community profile] alwaysright2010-04-23 01:28 pm

November 7, 2007

The paperwork took a while. Between the four of them-- Kutner didn't do much-- they got through it faster, but there was so much to do that it still took hours. The conflicting treatments of interferon and steroids was tricky enough to justify-- though justify it Amber did, since she hadn't been wrong-- but there was Brennan's interference which couldn't be explained. Casey could sue the hospital, easy. Probably would, too; they'd risked her life when she'd only been dehydrated.

When going over the more mind-numbing parts of the papers, Amber worked through the past few days in her mind. She was crazy about Eric. That much she couldn't doubt. Seeing him again and again, even when it went against her better judgment; liking waking up next to him; bothering to stick around after their fights...

He'd stuck by her. Goodness knew why, but he kept coming back. The first night of this case, he'd come by with coffee. He'd then turned her down for sex, but he did say he had to work. A workaholic, that's who she was dating. She'd choose work over him any day, too. And this morning, chasing her after she'd run out of the department-- what an idiot. Amber smiled at the list of blood tests she was writing up.

By the time the to-do pile was reduced to nothing, lunch hour had long since passed. Amber collected the papers. "I'll pass these on to Eric," she said. Why not? Pretending to call him Foreman would only make them tease her harder. She didn't have anything to hide, by now.

"Have fun," Kutner half-jeered, half-saluted. Thirteen snorted, Cole raised an eyebrow, and... that was it. At least, in reactions to her. As she organized the papers into folders, Cole mentioned having to pick up his son, and Kutner offered to go with him. Thirteen, sneaky as ever, didn't volunteer any information, just saying by and leaving.

Amber walked the few steps over to the office. She raised the folders. "Look at what I've got for you," she said teasingly. "Bet you've been dying for these."
eric_foreman: (happy foreman)

[personal profile] eric_foreman 2010-04-23 06:52 pm (UTC)(link)
It worked out to being one of the longest days Foreman could remember. He hadn't slept well last night, cramped in an on-call bed, constantly woken up by other doctors opening the door and the muted sound of pages over the PA system. He'd been worried about the case, and about Amber, so that his mind had never fully quit circling around everything he'd said, and she'd said, and what the tests had shown. A day spent making it all look good for Legal had him tensing up, too. Cuddy's annoyance was probably usual for dealing with a malpractice suit in Diagnostics, but to Foreman it felt like she'd expected him to screw up, and he'd only confirmed her worst fears. He kept wanting to justify himself, and clamping his mouth shut instead. There was no point getting defensive. She'd hired him back and she knew what he brought to the team. There'd been no threats about firing him, but Foreman knew he wasn't making any headway at redeeming himself, either.

Didn't matter. He got free eventually, a little sooner than the candidates, so he hung around in House's office. He could've gone somewhere else--Amber would page him--but he didn't feel like running into House and hearing about his amazing two-day vacation, or what he thought of Foreman's decisions. As long as Diagnostics was where work was happening, House would be elsewhere. Foreman caught up on a few emails, keeping contacts open, doing the final revisions on his latest paper and submitting it, so the day didn't turn out to be a total waste.

He leaned back in House's desk chair when Amber came through the door, letting his head loll back and smiling at her. The others were trailing out the conference room door. Foreman didn't really give a shit what they thought. Running after Amber this morning would tell them all they needed to know. A smile wouldn't make a difference. "Yeah, only here waiting on paperwork," he said. "Otherwise I would've been home by now." He let his smile grow, warming as he took in her appearance, her good mood. "The personalized delivery is a nice touch."
eric_foreman: Eric Foreman from House - skeptical (skeptical)

[personal profile] eric_foreman 2010-04-26 10:37 am (UTC)(link)
Foreman tilted his head, his smile not quite fading, but a puzzled note entering his expression. It'd been a joke. Amber's Mae West act could've been light-hearted teasing in return, but it rang false, like she was waiting for him to screw up. There was something dangerous under the seductive tone in her voice, and the way she dumped her armload of folders in front of him with a splat didn't bode well either. Foreman sat forward, abandoning his moment of relaxation, and leaned his elbows on the desk. "Actually, I wanted to grab a coffee with you," he said. He studied her, a little wary of what she might reply, but it'd be better to get it out in the open. "Look, did I say something wrong?"

He'd hate for them to get off on the wrong foot--again--only two seconds after Amber had walked into the room, but it seemed like however her afternoon had gone, it had probably included a few second thoughts. They'd planned the coffee this morning. Had something changed her mind? She seemed to be acting on the assumption that he wanted sex. Foreman wished he could get through to her that the sex was amazing--he loved being close to her then--but it wasn't all he was around for. There was a time and a place for it, but he wasn't always going to be ready for it, and he didn't like Amber's implication that it was the only reason he'd tried to make up with her after their fight.
eric_foreman: Eric Foreman from House - thoughtful (amused)

[personal profile] eric_foreman 2010-04-26 06:51 pm (UTC)(link)
Foreman nodded carefully. He didn't like feeling uncertain, but it seemed one of the things that he couldn't get away from, being around Amber. Her reactions flicked around so quickly and Foreman was rarely sure that he was keeping up. Even if he could guess how she felt in a moment, the lightning-fast changes always left him wondering if he'd been wrong all along and he'd misread both how she'd felt at first and why she'd jumped to another state altogether. He let out an amused breath, his smile returning, when Amber offered him her hand. He stood up, and made a little show of taking her hand in his. They could leave the paperwork on House's desk; House wouldn't touch it. He must've taken his opportunity to fuck off once again, and Foreman would be the first one back to the office in the morning.

He stepped around the desk, and gave Amber's arm a firm, unyielding pull, until he could wrap his other arm around her. Everyone else had left. There was no one to see. It was a strong hug, and Foreman kept it short, no longer than the length of the sigh he let out, but he needed to reassure himself that they might be going slowly, but at least they were going. Even as brief as it was, the hug eased some of his worry, allowed him to remember the feel of Amber's body against his. "Okay," he said, letting go of her and stepping back to meet her eyes. "Let's remember that, too, okay?" There was a reason they were together, despite all this. Foreman knew what he wanted; he hoped Amber hadn't lost sight of it either.
eric_foreman: Eric Foreman from Houes - hands (hands)

[personal profile] eric_foreman 2010-04-27 10:14 am (UTC)(link)
“Right,” Foreman said shortly, and then pressed his lips together. Amber would hear the bitterness in his voice, because he hadn’t tried very hard to hide it. She might still be holding his hand, but Foreman couldn’t feel that warmth over the sudden chill of her response. He kept his body away from hers, despite their linked fingers, his face turned slightly aside rather than trying to meet her eyes. He kept trying, and she kept shutting him down. What had happened to the woman who’d jumped him in public? Who’d so clearly wanted him? The one he hadn’t offended when he’d hugged her?

Who were they going slow for now, her sake or his? Why was Amber acting like she was the only one who’d gotten hurt by their fight? Foreman had tried opening up again and he’d gotten shot down. So, fine, they’d go slow. He went with Amber, but he felt stiff and standoffish. She’d hurt him by not giving him a damn inch, and Foreman didn’t really care how stupidly petty it was, some part of him wanted to hurt back by retreating into a shell of sullen politeness.

Foreman let go of Amber’s hand at the door so that he could grab his coat, pulling it on. He supposed that anything he might tell Amber about his day--the satisfaction of submitting that article, for instance--would be overshadowed by the fact that she’d had to do paperwork. Maybe he hadn’t seen it before, but it looked like any topic of conversation was going to go to ground on the rocks simply because he was her boss and could grab a few more snatches of free time. He waited for Amber to open the door, since she was so adamant about that, and didn’t reach for her hand again when they were walking down the hall.
eric_foreman: Eric Foreman from House - exasperated (exasperated)

[personal profile] eric_foreman 2010-04-28 11:57 am (UTC)(link)
Foreman didn't go so far as to walk away from Amber entirely. He waited for her in the hall, and then matched her pace to the elevators. "If you want," he said, still nettled and not interested in sticking himself out there for another rejection. As soon as he heard her next words, though, he jerked his head around to stare at her, thoroughly annoyed. He wasn't sulking. Having Amber treat him like a pouty kid was not the way for them to work through whatever issues they needed to talk out. And what did that mean, he could ask her something and she wouldn't get angry? What kind of concession was that? Because that's what Amber sounded like--like she was granting him a goddamn favour by not getting openly pissed off at him. Another pat on the head. Another moment of acting like he was a four-year-old who needed to be patronized. "What does that mean?" he asked. "If you're angry, I think I'd better know it."

What he'd really be finding out was whether this was worth it. He expected a few fights in a relationship. He and Claire had fought over all the important things--his career, hers, moving in together, breaking up--but if they were both still upset, then they weren't going to resolve anything. That had been the point of him walking out on Amber last night: he'd been upset. He'd thought today they could talk like adults, but apparently that was too much to hope for. He felt unsettled, irked, if not actively upset, and Amber wanted to pretend not to be angry as an indulgence to his mood. Foreman prodded the elevator button with one finger. He'd been so relaxed when he first saw her--how had she managed to tie him up in knots again? "I want to talk," he said. "That's all. If it's not too much to ask, I'd like to know what you really feel."
eric_foreman: Eric Foreman from House - eyebrow raised (eyebrow)

[personal profile] eric_foreman 2010-04-29 10:51 am (UTC)(link)
Foreman eyed Amber, disbelief tingeing his expression as he studied her. Her cheeks were pale, eyes a little peaked even under her makeup. She didn't seem angry--for the moment. But based on the last ten minutes, Foreman wouldn't know how long that would last. The next words out of his mouth could set her off again. "You get upset when I try to get close," he said evenly--not an accusation, not angry. Just the damn truth. He was frustrated enough to be honest. If Amber couldn't take it, then Foreman would know where he stood. "I don't like getting pushed away." He didn't mean the hug, although that was part of it. Amber had always put up walls to keep him out, or acted like sex was the only closeness she'd ever consider. Foreman knew he had his own barriers, but he'd told Amber more about himself than most people knew--more than anyone at the hospital, more than any girlfriend he'd had in Princeton. She knew about his mom, about his brother. He'd hurt, telling her that stuff, but he'd done it because he wanted her to know. Because he'd thought he could trust her. What if he'd been wrong?

Foreman shrugged slightly as the elevator doors opened. They wouldn't be talking with a couple of strangers to overhear them. Foreman slipped between them and leaned against the back wall, crossing his arms and letting his head tilt back to rest against the wall, staring up at nothing much. Maybe he was too damn tired to do this right now. He didn't want to make it worse, but he was stuck in a maze without a map, and he still had no clue what would upset Amber and what he could say to her safely. Picking his way over eggshells was not how he wanted to spend the rest of this relationship. The other two people on the elevator got off on the next floor down, leaving them alone, and Foreman glanced over at Amber, wondering whether that would mean a thing to her.
eric_foreman: Eric Foreman from House - skeptical (skeptical)

[personal profile] eric_foreman 2010-04-30 11:47 am (UTC)(link)
Foreman sighed tiredly, his shoulders dropping. "No. That's not the problem," he said. It'd be damn hypocritical of him to get pissed off that Amber wouldn't let him near her, when last night he'd been the one who'd needed space. He'd walked away from her, taken the distance he'd needed. Realizing that, Foreman set his jaw muscles. He hated saying he was wrong, even when pride demanded it. He turned to face her. His head still rested against the wall of the elevator, and his arms were still crossed, but his stance had softened. "I'm sorry I pushed you," he said. "I wanted to get back to where we were. You're right, it was too fast."

The elevator doors opened, and Foreman headed out. If he'd been alone, and feeling this way, he'd stride for the doors, his gaze fixed on the floor, radiating just how much he didn't want to talk. For Amber's sake, he slowed his pace and kept his head up, although he kept some space between their bodies, probably more than they'd need to pass as 'just professional'--not that the hospital grapevine didn't already know every word they'd ever exchanged, probably. No, respecting what Amber needed wasn't the problem. Getting her to respect it when he asked the same of her might be more difficult, but if he explained it to her like that, she'd understand. She'd understood him this morning. But Amber hadn't even realized what he was upset about. She was still making everything about touching, about sex.

Foreman waited until they'd made it outside. The night was cold but clear. Once they'd walked far enough beyond the lights of the entrance, where they wouldn't be overheard, he stopped and faced Amber squarely. "I've told you things--" he started, and then grimaced, trying to find a better way to start. He shook his head. "You have to know that if you went to House and told him even half of what I've told you--about my mom, or Marcus--he'd give you the job so fast he'd trip over his damn cane," he said. "He'd have the time of his life. He'd probably give you a raise while he was at it." Foreman gazed at her earnestly, hoping she'd see what the problem was, or at least, that she was listening to him. "When I told you, I knew you'd keep it to yourself, because it was between us," he said. "After yesterday? I don't know that anymore. I trusted you. But I made a call--and Amber, it's not about the medicine. We were both wrong. You undermined me for the job, and I don't know that you won't do it again."
eric_foreman: Eric Foreman from House - eyebrow raised (eyebrow)

[personal profile] eric_foreman 2010-05-01 12:11 pm (UTC)(link)
Turned away from the lights, Amber’s face was in shadow, but even so, Foreman couldn’t have missed the way she stiffened when he made clear what he felt. Her retort came sharply, immediate and defensive, and, no matter what she’d promised, angry as hell on her own behalf, as if he’d impugned her honour by pointing out the very trait that she’d claimed to be so proud of. “Trust doesn’t change because the situation does,” he said. As far as he was concerned, it was exactly the same thing, and it got personal as soon as Amber decided to take her ruthless streak out on him. How was he supposed to know where she drew the line? His family was personal, but his career was fair game; there were a hell of a lot of things that fell into the gray area between them, and Foreman didn’t want to find out too late that Amber didn’t mind exposing something he wanted to keep to himself. What more do you want me to say? An apology, that had been all. Either in words or by Amber showing she had even the slightest hint of regret. Well, he wasn’t going to get it. “I said I was sorry,” Foreman said heavily. “I’ve promised to listen. I’ve promised to try and do better. You’ll do the same thing again if you get the chance, and you don’t care how it makes me feel." All he'd ever wanted was to see some sign that Amber was willing to meet him halfway. "So maybe you see why I’m having a hard time trusting you.”

He wanted to turn away, but her hand on his arm stopped him. His chest felt tight, and every instinct was telling him to get the hell away before she could hurt him again. End it, so that he wouldn’t be vulnerable, so that she could screw with House’s patients all she wanted and it wouldn’t feel like a fuck-you aimed straight at him. Lips thinned, eyebrows drawn together in a pained frown, he nodded at Amber’s words. He wished he could believe her, as easily and as simply as he had at first, when it seemed like such a fucking good idea to spill his guts to her, like a kid running crying to mommy about how unfair the world was. The world wasn’t fair, and by now he should’ve damn well noticed. He only had himself to blame. Put yourself out there, and the world would aim a sucker-punch for the pit of your stomach. That was all there was to it. “Okay,” he said, exhausted. He wasn’t going to argue with Amber about whether she meant it or not, or what kind of value her promises had. What else was he supposed to say? Thank her for a reassurance he shouldn’t have to have begged for?

Scrubbing a hand down his face, massaging at his closed eyes, Foreman felt like he’d been run over by a truck. Aching all through. If this was the end of their fight, why did he feel worse than when they’d been yelling at each other? “You shouldn’t have to pick between me and your job,” he said. “It's not fair. I don't want to do that to you." He tightened his jaw, hating how hard this was to say. "I thought we could make it work, have both. Maybe that was stupid. Maybe part of me wanted to shove it in House’s face that people don’t have to be miserable. I guess I wanted you too much to be smart about it.” He swallowed, forcing himself to meet Amber’s eyes steadily, part of him still hating that he wanted to hold her but she’d flinch away from his touch. “Look, it’s getting late. If you don’t want to go for coffee, I’d understand.”
eric_foreman: Eric Foreman from House - eyebrow raised (eyebrow)

[personal profile] eric_foreman 2010-05-02 08:48 am (UTC)(link)
Foreman hesitated. He wanted to believe her. He strained to keep from leaning towards her, from touching her. Amber didn't want it. She might care, but she couldn't stand touching him. Not fair. He knew he wasn't being fair--she'd only asked for space--but it still meant holding himself back, keeping up his stiff independence, and showing that he didn't need her either. Telling him she cared should mean closeness, a healing, but by now Foreman felt so worn out that it seemed like everything else she said: words, not actions. Nothing he could believe deep down. Even if her tone of voice, her quiet confidence, squeezed his heart, and made him want her so damn badly--just to wrap his arms around her, find warmth in her, and breathe in her skin.

It was ridiculous. Foreman took a breath, already feeling like an idiot for explaining, but Amber worked for House. She had to be used to stupid metaphors by now. "It's like...if I was allergic to bees," he said. "And one landed on me. If you slapped me and killed it, that would be the right thing for you to do, but you'd still have hurt me. Can't you be sorry for that?" His face burned with shame. The last thing he'd wanted was to ask for an apology. How could it mean a damn thing if Amber offered it only to placate him? And what did it even mean if she parroted the right words back at him? Part of an apology was working not to let the same thing happen again. Even if Amber decided to apologize for hurting him every time, but she kept on acting the same way, Foreman wouldn't be able to trust her any better. In fact, he'd know just how empty her words were. He snorted. "You could at least tell me 'there's a bee'," he said. "Give me some damn warning next time."

That was enough. He'd given her a chance, an out. If Amber walked away now, no one could say Foreman hadn't tried. He waited for Amber to get her back up and tell him coldly that she'd been right, and that meant she didn't need to be sorry for anything, no matter how much she cared about him--or didn't. He'd asked for too much instead of settling for what he could get, so he had no one to blame but himself when Amber left him.

Instead, he felt her fingers wrap around his own, cold and stiff. Startled, Foreman darted his gaze up to her eyes. His hand clutched spasmodically around hers, an instinctive press at first, and then a long second's hesitation. She'd reached out, so she wanted this. Cautiously, Foreman squeezed back. He closed his mouth over an incredulous You do? but his confused blink probably made him out to be an idiot despite himself. He nodded jerkily, and wet his lips. His hand was warming slowly in hers. Bracing himself so hard for Amber's rejection, he'd forgotten to make a plan for what to do if she stayed. He cleared his throat. "My car's there," he said, his voice scratchy. And he remembered: space. "I could drive you to yours."
eric_foreman: Eric Foreman from House - thoughtful (thoughtful)

[personal profile] eric_foreman 2010-05-02 10:10 pm (UTC)(link)
Taking a deep breath, Foreman concentrated as hard as he could on Amber's apology. She met his eyes, her fingers tightening slightly around his, and she sounded as direct and honest as she ever had. A brief thought crossed his mind--that Amber might have practised sincerity on the road to being the proud manipulator she was today. But if he started thinking like that, he might as well break things off with her right now. Harbouring suspicions wouldn't be fair to either of them. If he didn't trust her, then he didn't trust her; there'd be no use pretending. A couple of days ago, when Amber had protested that she'd never wanted to hurt him, over other arguments and misunderstandings, she'd been no less honest than now. Foreman dipped his chin, relaxing, glancing at her face from under his bowed head. The damn metaphor sounded even more stupid when she elaborated on it, but Foreman pushed past it. He wasn't going to bring it up again, and try to define their entire relationship in terms of the figurative bees they swatted together; he couldn't imagine anything more likely to make him wince in embarrassment every time. It had served its purpose and now they could drop it.

He watched Amber's hands as she clasped his between hers. Her fingers were ruddy with the cold, but she'd been willing to stand out in the dark until she'd figured out what he was asking for. Foreman shouldn't be demanding why she couldn't figure it out on her own. For the moment, he'd rather be grateful that she hadn't spurned even that tiny concession. It didn't make him feel much better about that moment when he'd realized what she'd done, but it helped ease him out of the tension the argument had left him with for the past forty-eight hours. He wanted to return Amber's smile, but he settled for straightening his shoulders and clearing his lungs with another deep breath of the crisp air. "I'll see you there," he said. It wasn't much of a promise, but it felt like the first one in a couple of days that he knew they'd both be following through on.

Like he'd said, they'd nearly reached his car, and Foreman only had to take a few steps, glancing once over his shoulder at Amber before getting in. The engine warmed the car quickly, though Mickey's was close enough that he still felt cold by the time he parked and got out. He jogged a few steps to get inside, and picked a booth over the waitress's shoulder before she could lead him to somewhere near the kitchen or the bathrooms. Maybe Amber was rubbing off on him, or maybe--alone, Foreman was able to chuckle--he just didn't want her to make a damn production about the two of them sitting down for coffee. He'd had enough of that. The booth was near a heater, and right near the waitress's usual route through the diner: they'd be warm, and the service would be good. Amber would appreciate it.
eric_foreman: Eric Foreman from House - relaxing (relaxing)

[personal profile] eric_foreman 2010-05-03 09:11 am (UTC)(link)
Foreman was able to flag down the waitress the next time she passed and ordered two large coffees. Amber shouldn't be far behind him. She'd be cold; he was, himself, and he had more body mass to resist the cold. A hot mug to wrap his hands around would be welcome, and Amber would want one too.

A couple of minutes later, she walked in the door. Foreman had been looking up whenever he heard it open or felt the slight rush of cooler air from the entrance. He sat back and watched in satisfaction as she headed towards him, clearly pleased at the table he'd managed to snag. It seemed somehow like in the time they'd been fighting, he'd forgotten just how gorgeous she was, and now it came rushing back to his attention. In the middle of a bitter argument, he'd only seen Amber, fierce and icy by turns, frustrating as hell and refusing to listen to him. As she sat down opposite him, it was like Foreman could remember exactly how attracted to her he'd been from the start. Her blonde hair crackled and sparked from the dry, cold air, and her cheeks were pink. There was a gleam in her eyes as she teased him that reminded him of lying in bed with her, both of them on the verge of slipping into sleep, after they'd both come and he'd finally, regretfully, slipped out of her and cleaned up, only to curl an arm around her as soon as he could. Those memories let him squeeze her hand back easily, glad that she'd resumed the contact. The vestiges of his headache were still bothering him, but he could breathe, and, at last, he could smile back at her. "Of all the pancake joints in all the world," he agreed.

The waitress came back at that moment and deposited their coffee in front of them, along with a tray of sugars and creams. "Get nything for you?" she asked, taking out her pen and order pad with a glance at Amber. Foreman's grin widened--seemed like she'd already trained the staff here.

It took her question to make Foreman realize how damn hungry he was. He couldn't remember the last time he'd eaten a proper meal. Bagels grabbed in the cafeteria and meal bars from the hospital vending machines didn't count. No wonder his head hurt. "Yeah, eggs fried soft, sausage, hash browns, brown toast," he said. He didn't care what time of night it was, he needed the protein. They'd only agreed to come for coffee, but he doubted Amber would resent him eating a meal.
eric_foreman: Eric Foreman from House - relaxing (relaxing)

[personal profile] eric_foreman 2010-05-05 12:29 pm (UTC)(link)
"Hey," Foreman protested mildly. "I've hardly eaten today." He'd spent the morning in the lab, outing Brennan, and Cuddy had kept him hopping with legal questions all afternoon. The hour or so he'd managed to sneak in for himself at the end of the day had been better put towards his own work, since he knew he'd be meeting Amber for coffee. After the waitress had gone with their orders, Foreman realized he was still wearing his coat. He shrugged it off, and hung his suit jacket on the hook next to their table. With a quick tug, he loosened his tie, too, all the small rituals that helped him unwind once he'd escaped from the hospital for the day. The coffee, after he'd fixed it to his taste, was the usual diner crap, but it still tasted pretty damn good after a day of burnt leftovers from the Diagnostics pot, or even worse, the thin vending machine variety. Foreman grunted quietly, and cupped his hands behind his head, stretching out his shoulders and his back from the cramp of leaning over computer screens, before he slid his hand across the table to take Amber's again. "Here we are," he said, a smile coming more easily to his face once he'd relaxed against the back of the booth. There was enough room under the table for several people's legs, but Foreman found Amber's knee with his own. He didn't want to ruin tonight by invading her space again, but she could nudge him aside if he was pushing too hard; how would he know if he didn't try? It was only a light press, not like he was trying to get his knee up her skirt or anything. Just contact. Reaffirmation.

"Looks like Brennan's going to lose his license," he said, hoping it'd be a neutral topic of conversation. If he didn't get too close to their working relationship, they could both marvel over Brennan's stupidity. "Cuddy's having the hospital sue him preemptively, in case the Alfonsos try to get anything out of a malpractice suit." A yawn caught him by surprise, and Foreman tried to stifle it, only half-successfully. His own bed was going to be more than welcome tonight. Despite everything, he couldn't help the idea that it'd be even better if Amber was there too, curled up next to him. He her another lazy smile, imagining it. They'd get there again eventually.
eric_foreman: Eric Foreman from House - thoughtful (amused)

[personal profile] eric_foreman 2010-05-07 11:10 am (UTC)(link)
Foreman's shoulders shook lightly, his chuckle coming out more as a widening of his smile and the warm amusement in his eyes, as Amber all but challenged him by taking his careful gesture and pushing it farther. Through the material of his pants, he could feel the firm, inviting press of her calf against his, and then the nudge of her foot next to his shoe. As good as it felt to have Amber accept what he was offering, Foreman wasn't going to take things any farther. Amber seemed to have a pattern of asking for more, and pushing him in order to get it, only to turn around at some point that Foreman had no way of anticipating, and saying too far. Lacing their fingers together and the mild, warming touch of their legs under the table was all he was going to ask for tonight.

"He was already part of an organization he could go to for funding," Foreman said. Brennan had been part of Doctors Without Borders; with the right pitch, he could have gotten a pilot study, at least. But maybe he'd tried and gotten nowhere: Foreman would've rolled his eyes if Brennan had come begging to him for that kind of project. And Brennan had a smirky, twitchy look to him that wouldn't go over well in a boardroom. House probably had been his last hope. Foreman shrugged. "At this point, wide-spread vaccinations are a better use for the money than looking into a half-baked idea like vitamin C."

It was a mild disagreement, nothing he'd argue strenuously. He was tired of fighting, but this wasn't an issue he cared about. If Amber wanted to press it, he'd give in, or at least change the subject. What he'd learned in the last few days was that what he had with Amber, he wanted to keep, otherwise he wouldn't have tried so damn hard to make amends. Still, if Amber's need to win extended as far as general conversation, they wouldn't last very long. Last weekend they'd managed to talk without clawing each other's faces off. Foreman hoped they'd gotten back to that point, at least. He nodded at Amber's last remark. It was Cuddy's problem now.

Inhaling deeply, Foreman relaxed even farther against the padding of the booth. With the heater near them, he was comfortable now, and the coffee was barely making a dent in his tiredness. It would be simple if they could eat, go home, hope for the best next time. He wished it was as easy as accepting where they were now. But they'd come here to talk. It seemed like things were resolved as far as they were going to be, but there were still other problems to be dealt with. "How are you doing with the others?" he asked. If they raised a stink about Amber's relationship with him, there wasn't much he could do--Cuddy had already gotten on his case about being with Amber in the first place--but he'd rather know than not, and adjust his own behaviour accordingly.

(no subject)

[personal profile] eric_foreman - 2010-05-09 11:44 (UTC) - Expand

(no subject)

[personal profile] eric_foreman - 2010-05-10 09:27 (UTC) - Expand

(no subject)

[personal profile] eric_foreman - 2010-05-11 15:55 (UTC) - Expand

(no subject)

[personal profile] eric_foreman - 2010-05-12 11:10 (UTC) - Expand

(no subject)

[personal profile] eric_foreman - 2010-05-13 21:24 (UTC) - Expand

(no subject)

[personal profile] eric_foreman - 2010-05-14 12:34 (UTC) - Expand

(no subject)

[personal profile] eric_foreman - 2010-05-15 21:40 (UTC) - Expand

(no subject)

[personal profile] eric_foreman - 2010-05-16 20:51 (UTC) - Expand

(no subject)

[personal profile] eric_foreman - 2010-05-18 11:18 (UTC) - Expand

(no subject)

[personal profile] eric_foreman - 2010-05-20 13:43 (UTC) - Expand

(no subject)

[personal profile] eric_foreman - 2010-05-21 09:36 (UTC) - Expand

(no subject)

[personal profile] eric_foreman - 2010-05-22 09:55 (UTC) - Expand

(no subject)

[personal profile] eric_foreman - 2010-05-23 11:03 (UTC) - Expand

(no subject)

[personal profile] eric_foreman - 2010-05-24 13:32 (UTC) - Expand

(no subject)

[personal profile] eric_foreman - 2010-05-25 21:39 (UTC) - Expand

(no subject)

[personal profile] eric_foreman - 2010-05-26 11:44 (UTC) - Expand

(no subject)

[personal profile] eric_foreman - 2010-05-27 17:09 (UTC) - Expand

(no subject)

[personal profile] eric_foreman - 2010-05-28 13:02 (UTC) - Expand

(no subject)

[personal profile] eric_foreman - 2010-05-29 19:27 (UTC) - Expand

(no subject)

[personal profile] eric_foreman - 2010-05-30 12:26 (UTC) - Expand

(no subject)

[personal profile] eric_foreman - 2010-05-30 16:05 (UTC) - Expand

(no subject)

[personal profile] eric_foreman - 2010-05-31 12:03 (UTC) - Expand

(no subject)

[personal profile] eric_foreman - 2010-06-01 10:49 (UTC) - Expand

(no subject)

[personal profile] eric_foreman - 2010-06-01 14:42 (UTC) - Expand

(no subject)

[personal profile] eric_foreman - 2010-06-02 09:26 (UTC) - Expand

(no subject)

[personal profile] eric_foreman - 2010-06-03 11:07 (UTC) - Expand

(no subject)

[personal profile] eric_foreman - 2010-06-03 16:56 (UTC) - Expand