Thirteen couldn't help letting out a short, sardonic chuckle, shaking her head. It was disapproval, but in some twisted way, admiration for Amber's audacity, too. The kid had been ridiculous, and from all appearances, he'd thrown himself into Amber's web without stopping to think. It really was his own fault if he made a fool of himself running Amber's errands. After all, that's how House got things done, with all of them. He'd probably approve of Amber using all the available resources to their greatest extent. Amber was right, but Thirteen wouldn't admit it out loud.
She would pick out a muffin, though. Hey, they weren't her ill-gotten gains. And Amber didn't deserve to hoard all the profit for herself. Thirteen started picking the wrapper off the bottom of the muffin. She wasn't too pleased that Amber still wanted to continue this conversation, as if Thirteen had shown some overwhelming interest in what she had to say, but she supposed she'd just sold her soul for baked goods, just like Taub had said. The muffin obligated her to listen, even if it was with a bored, sarcastic look on her face.
A second later, she nearly choked on a muffin crumb. For the first time, her laugh was genuine as she turned to look at Amber. Thank God the guys were still muttering in their corner. Amber had cut herself short, sounding flustered for nearly the first time since Thirteen had met her. Thirteen had gotten the gist of it, though--Amber had had more than just one good weekend with Cuddy's spy. Thirteen had been sure that Amber would toss her head and ditch him. That's the way it had looked when House had been getting into their business and mocking their little drama. But--Eric. Amber had hardly breathed it out like a girl sighing over her first crush, but it had been more personal than just Foreman would have been, too.
Why the hell was Amber telling her? Or telling anyone. Thirteen leaned in conspiratorially. This kind of girl talk she could get behind, when Amber was the one off-balance, like she'd lost her damn scriptbook for once. "That's still going on?" she asked. "Sounds serious."
no subject
She would pick out a muffin, though. Hey, they weren't her ill-gotten gains. And Amber didn't deserve to hoard all the profit for herself. Thirteen started picking the wrapper off the bottom of the muffin. She wasn't too pleased that Amber still wanted to continue this conversation, as if Thirteen had shown some overwhelming interest in what she had to say, but she supposed she'd just sold her soul for baked goods, just like Taub had said. The muffin obligated her to listen, even if it was with a bored, sarcastic look on her face.
A second later, she nearly choked on a muffin crumb. For the first time, her laugh was genuine as she turned to look at Amber. Thank God the guys were still muttering in their corner. Amber had cut herself short, sounding flustered for nearly the first time since Thirteen had met her. Thirteen had gotten the gist of it, though--Amber had had more than just one good weekend with Cuddy's spy. Thirteen had been sure that Amber would toss her head and ditch him. That's the way it had looked when House had been getting into their business and mocking their little drama. But--Eric. Amber had hardly breathed it out like a girl sighing over her first crush, but it had been more personal than just Foreman would have been, too.
Why the hell was Amber telling her? Or telling anyone. Thirteen leaned in conspiratorially. This kind of girl talk she could get behind, when Amber was the one off-balance, like she'd lost her damn scriptbook for once. "That's still going on?" she asked. "Sounds serious."