House turned his shoulders after his scrambling minions, making sure they made every possible bit of speed getting out of his sight. When the door slammed shut, he leaned against the desk at the front of the room. He used space to his advantage--when someone was uncomfortable, House was happy to get in their face. Foreman hated that. With CTB, it was a different game, one she was already bracing herself to play. It was an intimate conversation, so House took up his position of authority at the bottom of the lecture theatre. CTB was sitting halfway up, so that any conversation they had about her personal life was going to be nice and loud and as public as an empty, echoing room could be.

"I don't suppose I get the same menu as Eric," he said, leaning on Foreman's first name with the sort of girlish note-book doodling cutesiness that CTB probably hated. He was enjoying himself, and through the first salvos, he expected she would too. He wouldn't reach for the big guns until he'd softened her up with attacks she could easily turn aside. "Unless I do, and you're sleeping your way to the top. If Cuddy's next, I want to watch."