Foreman didn't have a chance to answer House's question before Amber interrupted. If she'd lost her footing momentarily, she'd regained it with barely a pause. Her points were on-target, and this time, for the first time, Foreman found himself raising his eyebrows, impressed. So far she'd been pumping him for information about House's game, trying to copy his ideas, maneuvering more than doctoring. She'd been competent with the patient and the lab tests, but anyone who was truly useless never would have made it this far--House wasn't that clueless about his candidates. But the way she'd smacked down his idea showed poise, intelligence, and a very unsurprising desire to go straight for his throat.

It really shouldn't have been that hot.

House blinked at Amber, taking in her argument with more seriousness than he'd shown yet today, and then looked back at Foreman. A smirk started to tug at the corner of his mouth. Foreman's stomach sank. House had clearly figured something out that amused the hell out of him, and that could only mean bad news for the rest of them. "Which one of you was he imitating?" he asked.