"Me," Amber said without hardly a thought. Some of the things the patient said, the insistent way he'd made his demands and complaints, had sounded like they'd come straight from her mouth. But more interesting than the answer were the reasons for House's questions. Why would he want to know who the patient had been imitating? Why the glee? Was there any significance in who he mimicked--
Of course.
A slow, unstoppable grin spread across Amber's face. "Giovannini’s Mirror Syndrome," she said with all the elation of a kid who'd jumped the furthest in gym class. She even felt like jumping. But she stayed put in her seat, her gaze going straight to Foreman as her smile grew stronger. "He's a blank slate right now, so he's imitating whoever is around. Or, if there's more than one person, whoever has the dominant personality."
The weekend, Foreman's inconsistency, any future emotional entanglements: they'd all been worth it for this one moment of gloating. If nothing else, she had this definite proof that she had control over him. She could taken advantage of that. In fact, she should. Make him as miserable as he had her. Or do something that might bring her more satisfaction. What kind of power did she have over him, exactly?
“When did you let a girl get the best of you?” House asked, as amused as before, but nowhere near as much as Amber was. “You’ve gone soft on me. Not that you were hard before, big teddy bear that you are.” Amber laughed silently. “Is it her legs? Or,“ House’s tone dipped, his voice like it was whenever faced with a mystery to be dissected, “is there more?”
She stopped laughing abruptly, and why couldn’t she hide her feelings better?
no subject
Of course.
A slow, unstoppable grin spread across Amber's face. "Giovannini’s Mirror Syndrome," she said with all the elation of a kid who'd jumped the furthest in gym class. She even felt like jumping. But she stayed put in her seat, her gaze going straight to Foreman as her smile grew stronger. "He's a blank slate right now, so he's imitating whoever is around. Or, if there's more than one person, whoever has the dominant personality."
The weekend, Foreman's inconsistency, any future emotional entanglements: they'd all been worth it for this one moment of gloating. If nothing else, she had this definite proof that she had control over him. She could taken advantage of that. In fact, she should. Make him as miserable as he had her. Or do something that might bring her more satisfaction. What kind of power did she have over him, exactly?
“When did you let a girl get the best of you?” House asked, as amused as before, but nowhere near as much as Amber was. “You’ve gone soft on me. Not that you were hard before, big teddy bear that you are.” Amber laughed silently. “Is it her legs? Or,“ House’s tone dipped, his voice like it was whenever faced with a mystery to be dissected, “is there more?”
She stopped laughing abruptly, and why couldn’t she hide her feelings better?