Amber nodded appreciatively at Eric’s instructions. In the past, when there were more doctors than tests to run, House had set them off to twirl their hair, waiting. It'd be good to do actual work and who knew, maybe once they'd proven it wasn't heatstroke, she'd have found out enough about Natalie-- the infant with a fever and rash-- to make a stronger argument in favor of her case.
She found Natalie's mother biting her nails down to the quick in the waiting room outside the ER. Her blonde hair was stringed together into clumps, which could've been because she was too busy taking care of her daughter to take care of herself, but given the hollow curve of her cheeks, Amber suspected it was more than just recent self-negligence. She was a young mother, barely twenty, and with a marriage on the rocks. Amber found a nurse and sent her to run exams to check for vitamin deficiency; if Natalie wasn't being fed right, that'd make her vulnerable to a whole host of problems.
With the promise that she'd be paged with the results of the exam, Amber felt light as she strode through the corridors, boosted by the confidence of having done something significant. Made her feel smart and good to think of something before anyone else had.
Her mood dampened, however, to come back to the Diagnostics department and find only Thirteen, reading yet another novel. Amber smiled cloyingly; faking niceness might still come in handy. "Hi."
Thirteen raised her eyebrows for a very long moment before replying with, "Hi-- but don't feel obligated to make small talk."
"No, not at all," Amber said, injecting sincerity into her voice. "I've felt very close to you since our last conversation. I hope you know that." Close in the way that she'd wanted to kick Thirteen for getting her to spill so much personal information; it was supposed to have been the other way round.
Thirteen snorted. "Sure."
Tough audience, as usual. Amber sat beside her, clasping her hands over the table. "No, really. It helped to talk to someone about-- you know." She wasn't going to humiliate herself again by going on about Eric-- even if her conversation with Thirteen had, in its own but infinitesimally way, helped. It’d made her less angry.
The edge of Thirteen's mouth quirked and it annoyed Amber. "I'm glad it's still working out between you two."
Of course she wasn't glad and it was none of her business. But Amber kept up the sugary sweetness. "Me too." Now was a good time to switch subjects; she'd have liked to start with 'are you gay, is that what you’re hiding?' or, 'tell me your weaknesses,' but that might be a little too abrupt, so Amber plugged on with the friendliness. "How's your case going?"
"He's old," Thirteen said with a tinge of irony.
“C’mon,” Amber scooted over, enough to just not get into Thirteen’s space. “I’ll tell you mine if you’ll tell me yours.” And so they discussed symptoms and the likelihood of Creutzfeldt-Jakob Disease, Alzheimer’s, and Thyroid disorders. Not once did Thirteen try to check her out, which weakened the argument of her being gay—then again, talking about dementia wasn’t sexually appealing.
Amber managed to drag out the conversation long enough so that by the time it was her turn to talk about her patient, Kutner and Cole came back. Cole was quiet, but Kutner couldn’t stop talking, which meant she herself didn’t have to. Not that there was anything about Natalie that Amber couldn’t have shared with Thirteen; it was just the principle of the matter. She’d revealed enough about herself, for the level of confidence she’d received so far. If Thirteen wanted more, she’d have to start giving up herself.
no subject
She found Natalie's mother biting her nails down to the quick in the waiting room outside the ER. Her blonde hair was stringed together into clumps, which could've been because she was too busy taking care of her daughter to take care of herself, but given the hollow curve of her cheeks, Amber suspected it was more than just recent self-negligence. She was a young mother, barely twenty, and with a marriage on the rocks. Amber found a nurse and sent her to run exams to check for vitamin deficiency; if Natalie wasn't being fed right, that'd make her vulnerable to a whole host of problems.
With the promise that she'd be paged with the results of the exam, Amber felt light as she strode through the corridors, boosted by the confidence of having done something significant. Made her feel smart and good to think of something before anyone else had.
Her mood dampened, however, to come back to the Diagnostics department and find only Thirteen, reading yet another novel. Amber smiled cloyingly; faking niceness might still come in handy. "Hi."
Thirteen raised her eyebrows for a very long moment before replying with, "Hi-- but don't feel obligated to make small talk."
"No, not at all," Amber said, injecting sincerity into her voice. "I've felt very close to you since our last conversation. I hope you know that." Close in the way that she'd wanted to kick Thirteen for getting her to spill so much personal information; it was supposed to have been the other way round.
Thirteen snorted. "Sure."
Tough audience, as usual. Amber sat beside her, clasping her hands over the table. "No, really. It helped to talk to someone about-- you know." She wasn't going to humiliate herself again by going on about Eric-- even if her conversation with Thirteen had, in its own but infinitesimally way, helped. It’d made her less angry.
The edge of Thirteen's mouth quirked and it annoyed Amber. "I'm glad it's still working out between you two."
Of course she wasn't glad and it was none of her business. But Amber kept up the sugary sweetness. "Me too." Now was a good time to switch subjects; she'd have liked to start with 'are you gay, is that what you’re hiding?' or, 'tell me your weaknesses,' but that might be a little too abrupt, so Amber plugged on with the friendliness. "How's your case going?"
"He's old," Thirteen said with a tinge of irony.
“C’mon,” Amber scooted over, enough to just not get into Thirteen’s space. “I’ll tell you mine if you’ll tell me yours.” And so they discussed symptoms and the likelihood of Creutzfeldt-Jakob Disease, Alzheimer’s, and Thyroid disorders. Not once did Thirteen try to check her out, which weakened the argument of her being gay—then again, talking about dementia wasn’t sexually appealing.
Amber managed to drag out the conversation long enough so that by the time it was her turn to talk about her patient, Kutner and Cole came back. Cole was quiet, but Kutner couldn’t stop talking, which meant she herself didn’t have to. Not that there was anything about Natalie that Amber couldn’t have shared with Thirteen; it was just the principle of the matter. She’d revealed enough about herself, for the level of confidence she’d received so far. If Thirteen wanted more, she’d have to start giving up herself.