31 October 2007 - Morning

[amber_v]

Shrill blares pierced Amber’s mind, tearing her from absolute unconsciousness. At first she didn’t even know what to make of it, what the fuck it could be, and what the fuck she herself was to be bothered by it. Instinctively she threw an arm out, fumbling, finding by sound only. Her hand wrapped around an object, squeezed it; by pure habit her thumb pressed down on the snooze button, and once the noise was gone, she retracted, coiling her arm into her chest, curling into herself.

It was impossible to ignore what was out of her, though. Sunlight insisted its way through the curtains, through her eyelids. Amber groaned, covering her arm with her eyes. Why. Her head hurt. Her eyelids felt huge, her mouth, foul. She ached everywhere, shoulders, back, thighs, ass-- even her vagina was sore. Like she’d overexerted herself.

Or, Amber realized, feeling the heat near her, like she’d overdone the fucking. Pieces came back to her: the crying (oh, god, the crying, why, no wonder her head throbbed), the “baby,” letting Eric—- she flushed. Was surprised by another wave, soft, almost undetectable, of pleasure, as if she were still riding the aftershocks. Amber groaned, covering her face. Sat up, closing her thighs together. Inside, she could feel the memory of his shape, even if she hadn’t been very aware of much at the time.

It was light, too light for when she should be waking up on a weekday. Why? Amber opened her eyes blearily, glanced at the clock. Seven. The time she’d set it for, on Sunday, the last time she’d set her alarm. She hadn’t come home last night, fucking, again, Eric, in his own apartment. “Fuck,” she said, and sprang out of bed, fully alert, trained from years of being on call. “Eric, wake up,” she called out, heading for the bathroom. “I set the alarm too late, we've got no time.” They’d have just about enough time to clean up, get dressed, and maybe grab food to eat on the way. Why did this keep happening? Amber normally woke up well, not brain-dead, spent her morning before work relaxed. It seemed that she always woke up confused, after fucking him. She left the bathroom door open; they wouldn’t have time for separate showers.

Comments

[g_house]

House slurped out the last of his coffee, then kept up the sounds a while longer before purposefully clattering the cup against the glass table. How much had Foreman heard about CTB’s exploits? "Her first day here, she single-handedly got half the group walk out. And last week she nearly convinced Thirteen the patient she’d killed came back to haunt her. I'm seeing what there is to see."

Yeah, she might, he said. Interesting. Foreman knew CTB would ditch him in a heartbeat for the right reason-- immunity in this contest, to get someone else kicked off the competition, or, if House knew her, just for a good lunch. And yet Foreman really was in a good place, he wasn't lying about that; if he weren't confident and pleased, he wouldn't have gone this long in the conversation without snapping. Damn it, it was annoying. Foreman shouldn’t be this smug, this long. "You know she'd dump you for the right price and you're happy? But I shouldn't be surprised you're a masochist, if you've worked all these years for me and came back for more."

"I get it," House tipped his chair back, put his hands on the back of his head. "You like that she's controlling. That's why it didn't last with sweet, gentle Pediatrics Wanda: the hand that wiped away children's snot wasn't firm enough for you." That last patient of theirs confirmed it all, by imitating CTB, as did Foreman’s shame to have it announced in front of everyone. “Tell me, does she spank really hard, or are you more a tie-me-up kind of guy?”

House snorted at Foreman's accusation that he would be the one to drive away his happiness. "Oh, please. I've never needed to make your life miserable, you did that all on your own. Just look at yourself. You're falling for a girl you know would throw you to the lions." It almost made House want to tell CTB that it was her or the job; almost. He could do that later, though. After he'd seen more of this drama fold out. Maybe CTB wouldn't even wait that long, maybe she'd sabotage Foreman all on her own, without House's incentive. And for all either he or Foreman knew, CTB really was doing this as a double-spy.

[eric_foreman]

Foreman ignored all of House's stories about what Amber had done before he'd met her. Like he'd said, he knew what she was capable of. He'd already admitted that he knew Amber might screw him over, but that didn't mean he thought she would. Capable and willing were two different things. Maybe that was why he was able to be happy, even knowing that. Foreman trusted her, and it wasn't because he expected her to change, it was because he expected her to be honest. Not just about what opportunities came her way, but about how she felt. That was it, really. She'd been more honest last night. She'd let Foreman see her even when she wasn't in control.

He frowned sharply when House brought up Wendy. He hadn't told Amber about her, and he could just imagine House dropping the wrong word in her ear at the wrong point. Something about their deathless love, when really it'd just been a couple of months of dating. House would never fucking accept that he knew nothing about it. Foreman wasn't going to get into an argument about his exes. House had to know he had enough ammunition to fight that battle just as well. How would House like it if Foreman brought up Stacy Warner, started asking insinuating questions about why House couldn't make it with her even after her husband was even more crippled than House was--was it just because Mark Warner was better? The question was on the tip of his tongue, ready to be fired off angrily, and Foreman gritted his teeth to hold it back. Yeah, he could hurt House, that had never been in question; Foreman knew enough about House's skeletons that he could make some pointed guesses that would probably pay off. But that would make him into House. He wasn't going to descend to House's goddamn pettiness.

What the hell did it matter what he liked or what Amber liked? God, when they'd gotten into Amber's apartment--when Foreman had felt like he'd never be able to smother the boil of his anger at Marcus, when he'd felt desperate enough to push--Amber had...hadn't done anything more than demand what she wanted, slowed him down, drawn the limits, and Foreman had never been so damn glad of someone defining some portion of the world. Black and white, right and wrong, no fucking grey areas, and if he stepped out of line she told him so. Made it easy. There'd been nothing like working for House, when being right meant hurting people; or Mercy, where being right meant getting his ass fired for no fucking good reason. Being right, doing the right thing, when he was with Amber--it was the right thing, it was that simple, it let them both get what they wanted, and it felt so goddamn good.

Not like around House. House twisted everything Foreman said, insinuated the opposite of what he meant, and Foreman was fucking tired of it. His muscles knotted, his heart beating anger through his body. "Is there some problem, House?" he said tightly. He hadn't missed the fact that House hadn't answered his question about whether he was just jealous. House wouldn't answer, he'd just keep pushing, because that was all he knew how to do, even when there was no fucking point. "My life outside of this hospital isn't your business. Unless you're concerned about my misery, which I doubt, then you can keep your damn speculations to yourself."

[g_house]

House tapped his cane against the table, keeping up a steady stream of sounds. He couldn't give Foreman a break. Strange, the remarks about Wendy should've gotten more of a reaction. She might've meant almost nothing to him, but Foreman was proud, didn't like anyone scoffing or belittling his experiences. Dissing his joke of a romance with her should’ve pissed him off. And Foreman was angry, testy, practically hissing like a rattlesnake, but he wasn't livid. He hadn't gotten up and left, gotten to his feet to rail at House about what a prick he was, hadn't retracted into smoldering resentment. Even if the Wendy bit hadn't gotten to him, the sub remarks, that should've gotten his blood boiling. Made a real scene. House tapped his cane harder without realizing it. That was some good mood CTB put him in.

He had to see CTB, see what her angle was. Because she couldn't possibly be as world-now-rose infatuated as Foreman was-- so either Foreman really was that far gone for no good reason, or CTB was doing a damn good job faking. And CTB was good, but not that good. If she were, she wouldn’t be despised by everyone that passed her way—present company excluded, but it was probably a matter of time before she got to him, too.

Foreman finally snapped back. Felt good to hear. Good to know he'd gotten under Foreman's skin, at least a little. House smirked despite the inevitable burst of pain as he stood up. "Of course I'm concerned about your misery," House said as if he were nice and did care. He went to the hallway door, taking wide strides. The fewer steps he took, the better. "It affects your work. It's happened before: the minute you get happy, you suck. And if you get too woeful, you suck even more. I'm just trying to maintain that fine balance of misery that keeps you at your best." With that, House left the room.

[eric_foreman]

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.

[g_house]

House headed for the elevator at a quick pace, his anticipation spurring him forward despite his leg. This was gonna be good. Whatever CTB had to say for herself was likely a pack of lies, but that was exactly what he was hoping for. Lies he could sift for the truth. Lies told more than the truth did. No one as ruthless as CTB would let herself be put off-track by someone as staid as Foreman. There had to be another reason, another angle, and House was almost gleeful that he'd find out what it was. Foreman deserved to hear it from him. It would serve him right for being "happy"--House snorted at the thought. Foreman would love to think he was happy after getting sacked in New York. House wondered if CTB knew about that, whether she realized she had to be in some part compensation for Foreman's poor lost department head position.

Yeah, he'd bet she did better positions than that any day. House would pay good money to find out just how flexible she was. The sex might be amazing, but that might be all it was. It had been less than a week. Something quick that would fizzle just as fast. Not nearly as much fun to mess with, but even if it ended, it would always worth mocking the two of them for. If he kept CTB around to mock. House would let the decision take as long as he needed, long past the point of Cuddy breathing down his neck--otherwise, what was the point?

The elevator opened on the ground floor and House stretched himself, heading for the lecture theatre. With a dramatic slam, he burst in the doors at the top of the room--always catch them by surprise, and from behind would do that nicely. He didn't care what they'd been doing with themselves, as long as waiting patiently for him was part of it. "Sitting around here's not getting me a case," he said loudly, glaring at all of them. He didn't really want a case, but a master needed room to work. "All of you, out of here, and don't come back until you find something interesting." He turned on CTB, his eyes narrowing. Repressing a smirk, he lifted his cane and pointed it at her like a god singling out a mortal to smite. "Everyone who's not sleeping with a coworker, that is." House spared a glance around in case Thirteen had anything to admit, or Kutner and Cole had gotten way too close on one of their man-dates. When nobody admitted to anything untoward, House barked, "Go!" and made his slow, deliberate way down the stairs, with CTB in his crosshairs.

[amber_v]

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?"

[g_house]

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."

[amber_v]

Every step of his was a part of the game, Amber knew. Not one intonated syllable, facial twitch, or arm swing wasn't calculated-- and the words, too, were sharpened for maximum damage. And yet Amber felt regal, divine, as House took his place at the bottom of the theater, speaking loudly to be heard, like a peon seeking audience with the queen. Amber's mouth curled upwards, smug to be the focus of so much undivided attention. It was flattering, House narrowing down on her. It was with the confidence of a brewing fight that Amber curved into her chair, one arm leaning against the backrest, her chest rising. She felt taller, stronger. Ready to bite back. "You get your perks, House," Amber promised, voice low and rich. To her Eric was Eric, so it was not strange at all to hear that name. If it was meant to hurt-- and surely it was supposed to, given House's saccharine tone-- it missed the mark.

It'd only get worse, Amber knew. House was persistent, figured out how to cut deeper as more material was given him. The trick was to play it cool, hide any sore spots. She'd defend herself best as she could, but she wouldn't attack, either. It'd make him more vicious, aggressive. And he had more power on his side, the ax to fire her. She just had to withstand; insinuate things he wanted. Keep herself desirable in his eyes. "I'm working on that," she said coyly. Now there was a thought, sleeping with Cuddy. House would keep her on the roster just for the lesbian fantasies alone. "And it'd be a shame not keep a record of the event." Amber pulled her shoulders back, pushed her outer lip slightly; it was still glossy red after kissing Eric, she'd checked in the locker room. Waited for House's response, his coming remarks. He could land a real hit; she braced herself for that, relying on the excitement of facing a challenge to lessen the impact. If he was having fun, so would she.

[g_house]

Perks, huh. One of them was undoubtedly the chance to play poker with a pirate. House narrowed his eyes, waiting to see if she'd name any of those perks, or if she was canny enough to leave them to his imagination. Insinuating they were there could be enough, if she wanted to get him thinking about why it was worthwhile to have her around.

And she wasn't going lightly on the physical side, either. Every posture, every breath, all of it screamed availability, which was a lie, but still intriguing that she'd take that direction. Foreman had been right; she was already stomping all over whatever promises of "exclusivity" they might have made. CTB would sleep with him, if he promised her the job. And House wasn't going to back away from the offer, either. He let a hint of a smile soften his face, letting her score a point by being attractive. That was her ante, but she'd have to increase the pot more than that if she wanted to see his cards.

"Foreman's my date to the premiere," he said, dropping the Eric as soon as it didn't produce results. Cuddy wouldn't touch CTB with a ten-foot pole, and, happily for House's imagination, that had nothing to do with CTB being a woman, and everything to do with her personality. He'd already had to roll his eyes through a litany of Cuddy's complaints. But if CTB admitted to 'working on' sleeping with her, and recording it to boot, then Foreman's sensibilities about faithfulness had just been ground into the dust. "Do you really think he'd appreciate the show?" She was talking about cheating in order to gain something; she was making that promise too easily for it to be true. House wanted to know how easily she'd retract her claws from Foreman's twitching corpse. Was this all just words, or would she really go behind his back?

[amber_v]

Amber returned House's smile, easy and slow. This felt good. Most anyone she faced wasn't worth the effort of stamping into nothingness; most didn't even have the energy to scream before she stepped on them. Maybe that was why she'd been attracted to Eric. He held his own. They were a match in will, determination, and confidence. She could push him, but never break him.

House, though, took it to the next level. Eric she could trust. House, never. She took her time in uncrossing her legs, in shifting, poising her torso just so, erect and tall. Even so, she looked down at him. He'd liked the sexual allure. Well, this was her, playing that card. Amber knew damn well how to use sex to her advantage. "You and Foreman, huh" she teased, adopting his last name. In this context, flirting with House, it'd have felt a million kinds of wrong to call him Eric. This way, he was someone else; not the person she'd held last night, calming him down from his anger. The one who'd stayed with her through her tears, her panic. And House might notice her emotions, if she used his given name. "He hadn't mentioned that." No way in hell, Amber knew. No way in hell. "But, yeah." Amber's cheeks dimpled; her hair brushed against her face. "I think he might have fun with that." If the thought of her and Thirteen got him going, no reason why she couldn't substitute her nemesis with her boss. They were the same type.

In the middle of the room, separated from House by so many chairs, Amber felt safe in issuing these insinuations. He wouldn't reach her physically, to begin with. And if he called her bluff... well, even if Eric weren't an issue, she wouldn't have been so stupid to give in that fast. Wouldn't have kissed him even once without a written contract of employment. Thing was, she couldn't threaten to sue if he fired her, or refused to hire her, for not delivering sex; even if the legal system did manage to force him into keeping her on his staff, he could make her life impossible, as his employee. But the flirting should be enough. Seemed like House didn't get much else; would settle for that much color in his life. Amber raised her eyebrows. “But that’s a long-term goal; I’m starting small.”

[g_house]

House's eyebrows raised, and it was only partly because that was the reaction he wanted to show. "Has he finally found his way out of that 'boring' rut?" he asked. "Because--" He dropped his voice into a well-meaning stage whisper, "He always comes back, even when he promises he won't." House had reported Foreman to the Fun Police more than once, sadly without any results. At least it made him good to bait. But harnessing someone plodding to someone as fired up as Amber seemed like a good recipe for implosion.

Well, that's why he was here, after all. To set that particular ball rolling. "Starting small?" House contorted his face in surprised disappointment. "The locker room gossip was wrong after all." Not that he needed to know--or have CTB think he cared about--anything physical about Foreman. The point was to show her that she was--heh--belittling him, whether she knew it or not. Once they'd gotten into the habit of insulting each other behind their backs, it was only one very small step to the next betrayal.

Still, she was taking the early rounds a little too easily. House already knew she could handle a euphemism fight. This was about learning something new, not sparring over old news. It was time to drop his first bomb. "So you're better than that?" He nodded in faux understanding. "Moving on when you've sucked him dry is a good plan." An infinitesimal pause, and then, "Don't worry. Foreman won't be surprised when you screw him over." And, in another calculated move, he let his face slip into comic dismay. "Oops, did I say too much? You're already doing that. I meant 'shank in the back'."

[amber_v]

Now that was an-- interesting comment. It wasn't an act when Amber mirrored House's eyebrow raise. She leaned forward. House couldn't be remarking on the inevitable boringness from personal experience; Eric had kept information from her, but he'd never lied. Not once had he dropped even the slightest hint he'd had any kind of sexual history with House going. So either House was pulling shit from thin air, which was more than likely, or-- he was speaking from someone else's experience. He'd known Eric for years, had probably seen him through a relationship or two. Maybe even more.

Amber refused to let her interest show through, though. If House knew how badly she wanted to know more about Eric's past girls, he'd take advantage of that for all that she was worth. She might as well lay all her cards on the table, since she'd have forfeited any possibility of winning. Whatever "winning" here meant. If she ever wanted to know about Eric’s relationship history, she’d have to ask him herself… if she had the courage to hear what he might say.

House’s comment about the locker room gossip proved he had no direct experience with Eric falling back into sexual routine. Or maybe that was the joke. Trying to keep House's "facts" straight was like building a maze to nowhere. Better to just assume everything was a blatant lie. So Amber only smiled enigmatically, neither conforming nor denying.

If Amber let herself think about it, she'd wonder how strange it was that, in the car with Eric, she'd burned with anger at the thought that the others would assume she was sleeping with him for her own self-gain. Yet here she was, feeding House those very notions. It just felt safer. If that's what House wanted to see, if it got him excited, keep him that way. At this rate, he wouldn't fire her or demand that she chose the job over Eric.

She'd been expecting House to throw a meaner punch, so her only physical reaction to his accusation was a deeper, sharper breath. At first it wasn't anything bad, nothing beyond what she'd been implying so far: that she was fucking Eric for a material reward. The bit about Eric not being surprised, that was more worrying, but it was probably a lie. House had been bullshitting her so far, no reason to think he'd chosen just now to spit out the truth. Amber had so many more reasons to trust Eric; he hadn't failed her, last night, when she'd needed him. He'd read her right. So he should be able to read her now, know that she had his back. "I am better than that." This came out colder, because she meant it. "I do what's right, and he knows that."

[g_house]

CTB's reactions were nicely delicate. Much more interesting to tease out than Foreman's unsubtle temper tantrums. House found himself leaning forward, investing more in the game. He caught her--interest? Worry?--about Foreman's previous indiscretions. House actually knew less about them than he was implying. He'd like to know more, but two in four years wasn't a winning hole card. Foreman might have snuck in more of a personal life than House ever would have allowed if he'd known. "Aww, please don't tell me you think you're unique," he said, staying loose but examining her for any tell-tale sign. "You're not even the first person to sleep with him to get to me." Seeing Foreman's reaction to finding out that the new Arnie had only wanted into House's pants--or at least, into his pockets for his pharmaceutical business had been damn sweet. That had been personal and about as short-lived as this little affair. A week. Getting his neurologist back on form had been as simple as blowing the chaff from the wheat.

There was better to come, though. Instead of the bitch he got the Ice Queen, eyes like glaciers. "I don't believe that, and I know you don't believe that," House said. CTB was not better than that, and that's why she was still in this game. She'd been proud of that before--was she backing down now? Over Foreman? House's stomach twisted at the idea, but he didn't show it. "Love" got in the way, and CTB was proving that--she was losing her edge. Besides, it wasn't love. It was convenience and sex. And pretty soon it'd be inconvenient, for him, and House didn't want to deal with that. Nipping it in the bud might be the best way to deal with it--once he'd finished playing cat and mouse. House left off leaning on the desk and took a step forward, sly interest increasing as he touched of the detonator, speaking softly despite the distance between them, sincerity radiating from his voice. "And Foreman doesn't believe that."

[amber_v]

Amber stiffened, though she maintained a frozen smile. Unique. She really hadn't thought of that up until now. Eric had been so undeniably novel and unparalleled, a whole new paradigm in her relationships, that there'd been no one to compare him to. She'd more or less assumed she was the same for him. That what they had somehow meant more. Was special. It was a good point, though. On their first date-- supposed one-night stand-- Eric asked if she wanted to know about his exes. He'd had his share. What was the first time to her might be part of this "boring" routine House kept referring to. And it’d been only less than a week, what had ever made her think she was in any way special, compared to the others?

When House said she wasn't the first to get sleep with Eric to get to him, Amber didn't know whether let her insides knot itself up or to laugh. So she compromised, smirking even as her stomach clenched. Worked to emphasize the wry humor reaction; sleeping with Eric as a ticket to House, now that was laughable. It’d have been so much easier just to show up on House’s doorstop with nothing but a quickly opened trench coat. "Just because it's been done before doesn't mean it won't work." She hadn’t completely abandoned the implications this was all about sleeping her way to the top.

House’s reference to that girl, it was concrete, not ambiguous like his other hints about Eric. It sounded like something that could be backed up. Amber could ask Eric about her. It’d be simple enough. And what did it matter, he wasn't with her, or any other girl, now. That was in the past. Hopefully.

Fuck. She'd let one bit of herself slip past her shell, and now House was corroding into the rest of her. Amber couldn't even afford not to come closer, tilting her head so as to hear his suddenly soft words. He harped again about what "Foreman" thought. Amber prickled with annoyance. House kept saying that almost as if Eric had gone up to him and admitted that the woman he was sleeping with-- her-- was just about ready to jump into what bed afforded her the most rewards. House was doing it only to bother her; he must've read in her reaction that the thought disturbed her. But she believed Eric believed her. None of what had happened yesterday would make sense if he didn't.

(The problem was-- no. She wouldn't. It was just a job. Eric was unique, even if he'd been through these feelings with other girls before. Jobs were many, Eric was one. But-- to win-- wouldn't Eric understand? No. This wasn't bullying a carnival clerk into given her toys for "the sick children." It wasn't the same. It wasn't a choice, at all. But how long would this job experience last her, fortifying her resume? And how much longer would that be compared to the time she could expect-- want-- to be with Eric?)

Amber drew a sharp breath. She couldn't let House get anymore to her. He was only taking advantage of her own confusion; close off access to that and he couldn't do any more harm. "You seem to know a lot about Foreman; you're making me jealous." Amber's tone regained the more playful, sensual tone from before. "Do you have a special interest in him, or do you keep a close eye on all your employees?"

[g_house]

He was beginning to score more hits. Might as well turn the metaphor into a game of Battleship--CTB could hide the places where it hurt, but all it took was enough potshots and House could work out where the cracks in her armour were deepest. She definitely didn't like the idea of Eric cozying up to other women. House grinned, imagining the cat fight that would result. Damn, if only that kiddie nurse was still at Princeton-Plainsboro. He'd introduce them like they should be old friends--after all, they had something in common!--and then step back and watch the sparks fly. His money was on CTB, of course, but Chase would run a good book, and House might even benefit from a little cash along with the spectacle. And that was only the start. House had even better material than that--hell, he knew things about Foreman's family that would probably set Amber back on her heels, because Foreman was a close-mouthed bastard with a chip on his shoulder.

House brushed aside the idea of CTB's plot to seduce him "working". Yeah, it might be something, to have those long legs wrapped around him, and he'd bet she was inventive as hell, not to mention completely capable of sucking his brains out through his dick. But he wasn't interested in hiring someone who'd compromise herself that far. It'd be too much like assuring him he was right during differentials, when what he wanted to hear was stupid ideas he could shout down, and good ideas he could poke holes in. Not, "You're right, House," and, by association, not "Here, let me blow you, House." It was a nice fantasy but Cuddy should be glad to know that House had some sort of standards. One of those was no sleeping with anyone nicknamed cut-throat bitch. Even if he'd been the one to name her.

He knew he'd scored again when CTB tried to go on the offensive. It wasn't much of an attack. House knew everything there was to know about his employees, and if he didn't, he tracked down the information until he figured it out. If there was something he didn't know, it was because he hadn't bothered to find out yet. Learning it from the candidates themselves--when they slipped--that was more satisfying that just checking their references or their personnel files. Thirteen, for instance: he'd find out her name, and whatever she was scared of, when he was ready to prod for more information. So far it was more interesting just to watch her trying to hide in plain sight. "Oh, hasn't Eric shared?" he said. "I'm just glad he could love again. Hasn't been long since the last one--" He waved a hand vaguely, as if the name had slipped his mind-- "Left the hospital in disgrace. Or was that because her career was completely stalled here?" Shrug. "Either way." He frowned and nodded, as though it was all academic and he could reassure CTB. If she still was CTB, that was; if she hadn't turned into Weepy Mess overnight. "I'm sure you're not the rebound at all. You two crazy kids have a good time."

With that, and a smirk, House headed for the doors. He wasn't interested in CTB's reaction; knowing that she'd have one, and that it wouldn't be sweetness and light, was good enough for him. It served Foreman right. He wasn't going to be "happy" on House's time; he was going to be good. And CTB would either stay CTB, or she'd break and leave the game. With five other candidates to trim down to two, House didn't really care which.

[amber_v]

Amber narrowed her eyes, frowning lightly; even before House spoke she knew that her attack had been poorly chosen. He just looked too happy, like whenever he'd left a trap and the time had come to collect the reward. She'd failed to hit a spot sensitive enough to throw him back-- then again, her hands were tied. It was a tricky equilibrium, protecting herself but not being so aggressive as to make him fire her. And she'd lost this round.

I'm just glad he could love again. Amber held back a jolt. Yes, she'd lost this round indeed. If it was true or not-- and how could she know, with House-- the fact was that he'd found a weakness of hers. He wouldn't forget, either. She could look forward to more insinuations about Eric's past loves. Right in front of the others, too. Then everyone would know how much that upset her.

It was a lie, or an exaggeration. It had to be. If anyone had left the hospital-- which meant she'd have been a coworker, if she existed, and, jeez, couldn't Eric expand his dating pool-- Amber would've heard about that. The juiciest tales made their way round to even the newest staff. Amber couldn't let herself believe any of this, not until she had the chance to ask Eric himself.

And House, the asshole, didn't even give her the chance to reply. He left with the last word, that trash about her being the rebound. No—that couldn’t be true either, she'd have noticed something like that, like she had the other things bothering Eric, like his work, his brother. But, alone in the room, suddenly quiet after the thud of the door, Amber looked down at her lap. Her hands had curled into themselves of their own accord, tight and hard. Why would she know? What did she really know about Eric?

And then she flushed, hot and angry and furious. Let herself rise to her feet, energy flooding her veins; almost kicked a chair, but didn't, on the off chance that House had his ear to the door, listening in. It was a close call, though. Amber wanted to hit, to smash. She settled for running a hand through her hair, pulling slightly. Fuck. It was happening again. She was making a fool of herself. Over a boy. Forget whether or not Eric had relationships in the past, if he'd loved anyone before-- that was practically a given-- Amber had just very nearly sabotaged her standing in the game. Maybe House had enjoyed this session, and being able to amuse him was probably important in lasting to the final round-- but he couldn't have been impressed. He’d cut her once her wretchedness stopped making him laugh. It was like fucking him: being the joke might get his interest, but it wasn't what counted.

She'd known it this morning, and now she knew it more than ever: being with Eric was making her stupid. Not being able to decide what happened in the bed was nothing compared to the agony of not being able to control her feelings, her actions, her expressions. A week ago, House wouldn't have been able to get to her like this.

Still hot all over, Amber gathered her things. Standing her and seething with impotent rage would do her no good. She'd fucked up, but she'd show House. She'd win. If he wanted a case, she'd get him one. Even if she had to spend all day asking every doctor, nurse, and flunky for a secret mystery patient.