Nice. It wasn't so dark House didn't catch the panicked contortions of Foreman's face as he nearly jumped back. In retrospect, House should've been waiting with a camera. But for a momentary satisfaction, it did the trick. House flung another elastic band, letting it fly over Foreman's head; he'd lost the element of surprise, but annoying the hell out of someone was the present that never stopped giving.
Foreman tried to cover up his fright with a flippant remark, providing House a far too easy a target to shoot. Foreman really had softened up; maybe he didn't talk much with CTB, hadn't had a reason to watch his words. Or maybe CTB did all the talking. "Some things are just more romantic in the dark." House spoke as if he were confiding to a friend, and yet there was a sharp, sarcastic edge to his tone. "You'll understand when you grow up."
And now Foreman was trying to be indifferent. Cute. House deliberately raised his legs to the office desk, dumping his feet right in the center where Foreman might've left the mail. He never could move his legs without at least a dull ache deepening into his thigh, but then again, nothing House did was free of pain. But some of his actions came with a reward. House watched Foreman's face for one, now. "This generation is easier to mold, they learn faster than my last bunch." They actually did; they'd already killed a patient and solved a case. Those two were the biggest rites of passage in his department. "I guess a cutthroat environment does eventually win over evil and bring goodness to human hearts." The adjective was deliberate. Last House heard-- Cuddy bitching at him that the two had left the hospital together yesterday, as if that were his fault, as if Foreman even being on the payroll was because of him-- he was still with CTB. Foreman’s reaction to that one word would probably tell House everything he needed to know about how the relationship was going: if it was floundering or flourishing. If there was a new way to make Foreman's life difficult, House needed to know about it.
no subject
Foreman tried to cover up his fright with a flippant remark, providing House a far too easy a target to shoot. Foreman really had softened up; maybe he didn't talk much with CTB, hadn't had a reason to watch his words. Or maybe CTB did all the talking. "Some things are just more romantic in the dark." House spoke as if he were confiding to a friend, and yet there was a sharp, sarcastic edge to his tone. "You'll understand when you grow up."
And now Foreman was trying to be indifferent. Cute. House deliberately raised his legs to the office desk, dumping his feet right in the center where Foreman might've left the mail. He never could move his legs without at least a dull ache deepening into his thigh, but then again, nothing House did was free of pain. But some of his actions came with a reward. House watched Foreman's face for one, now. "This generation is easier to mold, they learn faster than my last bunch." They actually did; they'd already killed a patient and solved a case. Those two were the biggest rites of passage in his department. "I guess a cutthroat environment does eventually win over evil and bring goodness to human hearts." The adjective was deliberate. Last House heard-- Cuddy bitching at him that the two had left the hospital together yesterday, as if that were his fault, as if Foreman even being on the payroll was because of him-- he was still with CTB. Foreman’s reaction to that one word would probably tell House everything he needed to know about how the relationship was going: if it was floundering or flourishing. If there was a new way to make Foreman's life difficult, House needed to know about it.