A small smile turned up the corners of Foreman's mouth as Amber playfully returned his light touches and explorations. They could both name all the muscles and bones and tendons involved, but right now that list didn't seem to account for how powerful the caresses were. Foreman lifted his eyes at Amber's response, wondering if she was serious. He didn't need more sex, but if she was interested, it wasn't like he was stupid enough to turn her down. Amber's voice was soft, though, without the incipient, sly teasing that meant she wanted to toy with him, torture him, and then satisfy him completely. He contented himself with a grin. They'd go back to his place, and see where that led. Warm, close, comfortable, the sort of small kisses and touches that they were indulging in now, might lead somewhere, slower and deeper than the frantic roughhouse in the bathroom. But if they slept instead, then that could be just as satisfying as sex could be. It was rare enough to get a full night's sleep working for House, and even better to have Amber pressed next to him, still there in the morning.

Foreman nodded to her question, and managed to catch their waiter passing a moment later to bring them the cheque. The cash he'd raked in from Chase's bet would go to a good cause. Foreman didn't bother counting out the total exactly. As far as he was concerned, the waiter, and the restaurant for that matter, had earned a pretty hefty tip for not threatening them with legal action. Leaving the money on the table, he stood up and pulled on his jacket. He picked up Amber's coat next. Probably he should content himself with handing it to her. He knew by now how she felt about chivalrous gestures. But Foreman still wanted to show her that it wasn't simply a matter of being some sort of gentleman. It was another chance to touch her, in a way no one in public could object to. He held up the coat and quirked an eyebrow at her, letting her know that he'd anticipated her objection and he was doing it anyway.