Foreman didn't know what he expected House to say. If he did have some kind of problem, Foreman doubted it was the kind that could be solved by a trip to HR. House wouldn't care if his fellows started an orgy, as long as they could still throw out suggestions when House set up the whiteboard. No. Any problem House had, it was with letting Foreman live his life, or Amber hers, for that matter. House would interfere because his insane curiosity wouldn't let him leave anything alone until he'd vivisected it. With no conception that once he'd taken a scalpel to every human relationship around him, he couldn't put it back together again.

Fuming silently, he watched House leave with more surprise than satisfaction. The light had gone out of the morning, the good mood Amber had left him with. Now the work seemed even more pointless than before, and he'd have worries on top of it--what if House told Amber about Wendy? Or even mentioned that Foreman thought that Amber might leave him after all? Foreman tensed, wanting to dog House's steps to make sure it didn't happen, but it wouldn't work. He'd only goad House into saying the worst, and prove that he was a fun toy after all, if he made any move that looked like he was buying in to House's provocation. All he could do was stay put and, however demeaning it was, keep his mind on his work.