Amber strode quickly to the locker room; she couldn't dally if she wanted to make it to the lecture hall on time. Paper-cut bats and witches decked the halls, as did orange-and-black streamers, but Amber ignored them; she’d gotten all the Halloween she’d needed last night. The fright of knowing her guy (if she was his girl, the reverse had to apply) had a brother in jail would last her all year. She was still reeling from that. Christ. Eric was so poised, so ardently strived towards perfection, that it made sense he’d have a blemished past; it just hadn’t occurred to her he’d have a blemished present as well. She couldn’t break up with him because someone related to him was in jail, because that wasn’t him, and, more to the point, she had no desire to not be with him, but every time she thought of Marcus, continuously returning to a life behind bars, it just felt worse. Weighed heavier in her chest. It reflected on Eric. It reflected on her. She was dating, falling for, a man who had every reason to visit a prison. What would she tell her family?
But she nodded at the staff who had taken up the Halloween spirit—doctors wearing bands with horns, nurses with monster and super-hero pins—and grinned at the in-patient kids who had the energy to enjoy a costume. House might treat the nurses like underlings to be tortured, but Amber was against that; they were essential to making the hospital run. Being on good terms with them meant the battles for cutting down time spent on waiting lists, be it for the MRI or a photocopying machine, and therefore faster results. It was easy to smile today, still giddy from and warmed by her conversation with Eric just now. In fact, it was harder not to smile.
Her trip into the locker room was routine: open locker, switch one coat for another, leave purse, check appearance, close locker, and be on her way to the lecture hall. Once she reached the classroom, her morning got a little less routine. They'd all more or less developed their customs and habits. Taub, Thirteen, and Cole sat by themselves, if relatively close together, unless Kutner and Brendon pulled Cole into conversation. Kutner never could sit still or quiet. And this morning was no exception. He had the DS out again today, as well as the attention of all the guys-- until, that was, she walked in. They all, Thirteen included, looked down at the floor entrance, through which she'd come in.
Didn't they have anything better to do?
"Late again?" Kutner asked, grinning.
"I'm not late," Amber corrected. With one minute to the hour, she wasn't.
"Would it matter if she were?" Taub muttered.
She rolled her eyes. No use trying to be discreet, not when they were all rubbing insinuations in her face. At least Thirteen had the decency of remaining silent, though the corner of her mouth was quirked up and her eyes shone with interest. Bitch. Acted all cool and indifferent, but when the pressure was on someone else and her personal life, then she got involved. "It's not like that."
"You're going to tell us what it's like?" Kutner seemed to perk up even more. Well, if she ever needed an audience, now she knew whom to look to. But she suspected Eric would be about as pleased to include Kutner as she would Thirteen.
"Yeah," Amber said, stalking up the stairs, making a point of getting to a row higher than anywhere they were sitting. "It's awesome and you should all be jealous." This was greeted by an assortment of amused smirks and head shakes; not even Taub and Cole looked terribly upset. Having successfully shut them up, Amber sat in the middle of the row, crossed her legs, and opened up a journal she'd picked up on the way here. Might as well study before they were shunted off to waste another day at the clinic.
And then House came in. Everyone, not just Amber, sat up a little straighter as they turned to face him. Maybe he'd found a case? Her heart beat a little faster, eager for the challenge, even if it meant a weekend lost with Eric. But, no-- he was rebuking them. She started to get up to her feet; stopped, at House's specification. Her heart beat faster still. He knew. Not only that, he was going to make a deal out of it. A big one, apparently. Had he already confronted Eric? How had that gone? She wished she could go to him, call him at least, and see what had happened; know what words had been exchanged, get any tidbits on how to handle House. Maybe Eric's professional advice on how to approach House sucked, but he might have better insights on his personal life. Not that the two seemed separated, for House. His work was his life.
Amber made herself stay cool, leaning back against her chair, arm carefully poised over the armrest. Everyone else filed out, not even saying a word, eager to get out and let him play to his heart's content with someone else. Her. "Good morning, House," she greeted cheerfully. Past her initial surprise, she could maintain a good disposition. She even smiled. This was a fight, in its way. "What can I do for you today?"
no subject
But she nodded at the staff who had taken up the Halloween spirit—doctors wearing bands with horns, nurses with monster and super-hero pins—and grinned at the in-patient kids who had the energy to enjoy a costume. House might treat the nurses like underlings to be tortured, but Amber was against that; they were essential to making the hospital run. Being on good terms with them meant the battles for cutting down time spent on waiting lists, be it for the MRI or a photocopying machine, and therefore faster results. It was easy to smile today, still giddy from and warmed by her conversation with Eric just now. In fact, it was harder not to smile.
Her trip into the locker room was routine: open locker, switch one coat for another, leave purse, check appearance, close locker, and be on her way to the lecture hall. Once she reached the classroom, her morning got a little less routine. They'd all more or less developed their customs and habits. Taub, Thirteen, and Cole sat by themselves, if relatively close together, unless Kutner and Brendon pulled Cole into conversation. Kutner never could sit still or quiet. And this morning was no exception. He had the DS out again today, as well as the attention of all the guys-- until, that was, she walked in. They all, Thirteen included, looked down at the floor entrance, through which she'd come in.
Didn't they have anything better to do?
"Late again?" Kutner asked, grinning.
"I'm not late," Amber corrected. With one minute to the hour, she wasn't.
"Would it matter if she were?" Taub muttered.
She rolled her eyes. No use trying to be discreet, not when they were all rubbing insinuations in her face. At least Thirteen had the decency of remaining silent, though the corner of her mouth was quirked up and her eyes shone with interest. Bitch. Acted all cool and indifferent, but when the pressure was on someone else and her personal life, then she got involved. "It's not like that."
"You're going to tell us what it's like?" Kutner seemed to perk up even more. Well, if she ever needed an audience, now she knew whom to look to. But she suspected Eric would be about as pleased to include Kutner as she would Thirteen.
"Yeah," Amber said, stalking up the stairs, making a point of getting to a row higher than anywhere they were sitting. "It's awesome and you should all be jealous." This was greeted by an assortment of amused smirks and head shakes; not even Taub and Cole looked terribly upset. Having successfully shut them up, Amber sat in the middle of the row, crossed her legs, and opened up a journal she'd picked up on the way here. Might as well study before they were shunted off to waste another day at the clinic.
And then House came in. Everyone, not just Amber, sat up a little straighter as they turned to face him. Maybe he'd found a case? Her heart beat a little faster, eager for the challenge, even if it meant a weekend lost with Eric. But, no-- he was rebuking them. She started to get up to her feet; stopped, at House's specification. Her heart beat faster still. He knew. Not only that, he was going to make a deal out of it. A big one, apparently. Had he already confronted Eric? How had that gone? She wished she could go to him, call him at least, and see what had happened; know what words had been exchanged, get any tidbits on how to handle House. Maybe Eric's professional advice on how to approach House sucked, but he might have better insights on his personal life. Not that the two seemed separated, for House. His work was his life.
Amber made herself stay cool, leaning back against her chair, arm carefully poised over the armrest. Everyone else filed out, not even saying a word, eager to get out and let him play to his heart's content with someone else. Her. "Good morning, House," she greeted cheerfully. Past her initial surprise, she could maintain a good disposition. She even smiled. This was a fight, in its way. "What can I do for you today?"