"Then I don't know why you're telling me." Foreman would have found out eventually. Once House found out they were still together, he wouldn't hesitate to drop a bon mot like that in Foreman's ears. He was probably in for more mockery because he wasn't the dominant one in the relationship. Shit, he wasn't looking forward to it, but he'd take it, he'd bear it. Just like he'd stayed stoic under all of House's other insults. It looked like Foreman would be the one practicing the 'ignore it' policy. If Amber reacted this quickly and this much to anything someone said to her, it wouldn't be long before that plan blew up in their faces.
Exasperation coloured his sigh when Amber slammed the car door. Foreman swung into the driver's seat, trying not to tense up. He still didn't know what would have been the right answer. Hell, maybe there wasn't one, and never had been. "I like what I've gotten into," he said, low and hard, twisting to face her instead of turning the key in the ignition. She was angry, but Foreman could deal with that; he actually appreciated it. She wasn't sulking or hiding it. The second he screwed up--even if he didn't know how--she'd let him know. It made him feel easier in his own anger. "No, I don't know what that is, all the time. We barely know each other yet." He spread his hands, half-defensive. "You know what works for you. I don't want the same things." Not the same way. He had some fucking scruples. Maybe fewer than he should, after three years with House, but they were there. The sound of Matty's screams weren't going to leave him alone long enough to lose them, or the memory of Lupe, grey on a morgue slab. He was going to work his damnedest to make sure he held on to the lines he'd defined for himself, whether Amber was 'in charge' or not. "Do I have to approve of everything you do for this to work? I have a different opinion. I think I'm entitled to that."
no subject
Exasperation coloured his sigh when Amber slammed the car door. Foreman swung into the driver's seat, trying not to tense up. He still didn't know what would have been the right answer. Hell, maybe there wasn't one, and never had been. "I like what I've gotten into," he said, low and hard, twisting to face her instead of turning the key in the ignition. She was angry, but Foreman could deal with that; he actually appreciated it. She wasn't sulking or hiding it. The second he screwed up--even if he didn't know how--she'd let him know. It made him feel easier in his own anger. "No, I don't know what that is, all the time. We barely know each other yet." He spread his hands, half-defensive. "You know what works for you. I don't want the same things." Not the same way. He had some fucking scruples. Maybe fewer than he should, after three years with House, but they were there. The sound of Matty's screams weren't going to leave him alone long enough to lose them, or the memory of Lupe, grey on a morgue slab. He was going to work his damnedest to make sure he held on to the lines he'd defined for himself, whether Amber was 'in charge' or not. "Do I have to approve of everything you do for this to work? I have a different opinion. I think I'm entitled to that."