Just another day at work, Amber reminded herself. Just another day.

She strode through the entrance hallway, her clacking heels contrasting satisfyingly against the soft morning noises. She stepped all the harder, to be louder than the coughs, casual chats, and wheelchair squeaks. But as much as she tried, Amber couldn't keep Eric's last sentence from echoing in her mind: I do want this.

What a joke. He wanted whatever false image he'd carefully built of her, of a woman that wasn't a bitch through and through. She'd show him. She'd prove beyond the shadow of a doubt who she was and what she stood for. Then if he decided to repeat stupid phrases, I like what I've gotten into, he'd be saying them fully informed. He'd know what he was talking about. She’d be able to believe him.

And this had nothing to do with making him hate her. Nothing.

To top it off, her stomach was killing her and she hadn't gotten her coffee.

She was late as it was. House wouldn't be there, he never was, but the others could and would report her tardiness. She'd do them the same favor. So this was one strike against her-- unless House decided to interpret it as proof she had the balls to work for him, whatever. Amber preferred not to push her luck, which meant not stopping by the cafeteria. There were other ways of getting what she needed, though.

Tons of interns hung around the classroom area, scuttling around like bugs just waiting for god to finally get around to crushing them out of their miserable existences. Amber scanned the lot streaming along: a little miss perfect who'd probably suffer a nervous breakdown before the end of the week, a butt-ugly boy who looked like he'd been shoved into med school by his overbearing parents, instantly forgettable members of both sexes, and... Amber grinned. Perfect.

The red-head had been eyeing her since the day she'd gotten here, from behind his clipboard. He'd have never deigned approach her, and with good reason; she'd have torn him apart. But today was his lucky day. She let her grin mold itself into an alluring smile as she approached him, laughing at how his incredulity grew in direct proportion to their proximity. "Hey there."

For a moment he seemed to forget the appropriate response. "Um, uh, hi. Hi!"

He was almost cute, in that excruciatingly awkward way. At any rate, she didn't need to butter him up much. She sighed. "I don't know about you, but my day's been awful so far."

His eyes widened. Probably didn't know if he should talk about himself, or if he was just meant to sympathize. He tried both. "Me too, I've got all these--"

Amber could care less, and she had no time for whatever it was he had. She touched his shoulder; his jaw dropped. "But I think you could help me out."

"I-- me?"

"If I could just get a coffee, or a bagel..."

He stared at her hand on his shoulder, and then her face. Amber knew he saw all kinds of promises there; she'd practiced a damn good sincere expression. "I-- I could pick up--"

Amber beamed, though not just for the reasons he might've thought. "Could you? That'd save my day, I swear." Before he could reconsider, she pointed to the doorway she was about to go through. "Bring it to me there, okay?" The kid nodded and skedaddled, trying to hold on to his papers as he ran off. She hoped House would be there to see him make the delivery; it'd probably impress him.

Considerably cheered by the prospect of breakfast and the fun of screwing around with someone, Amber opened the theater doors. She was just getting started.