Eric had the last word, leaving before Amber could reply. As she started up the computer programs, she fumed, plotting the perfect comeback. A tiny part of her knew this could lead to no good: Eric still represented her boss' boss. But most of her didn't care. This was a fight, and she wouldn't back down.

When the patient started fussing with the treadmill, asking why the hell he had to go through this and if they had any idea of what they were doing, Amber smiled to herself. Indirect vengeance had its fun, too.

But direct retribution was far better, and Amber set to it as soon as Eric returned to the control booth. "Of course House is playing, that's what he does. You think I don't know that? I've been more entertaining than cable TV." She wasn't, lamentably, as intriguing as Mystery Woman Supreme Thirteen. But whatever she was hiding, once House found it out, the puzzle would be solved and she'd lose her allure. On the other hand, Amber had been herself the whole time and wouldn't stop anytime soon. If it was mind games House loved, she'd keep him on his toes.

"I'll jump through hoops. And you know why? Because I don't give up just because something's hard. How about you? What are you doing here, if you hate House that much? Too scared to work for anyone else?" Amber taunted. If he liked the brutal truth so much, he could have it.

She turned on the microphone into the other room, told their patient they'd start the test, and turned on the treadmill.