Foreman probably should have spent any time he gained by having the candidates do the busy work by catching up on House's paperwork and organizing the bureaucratic nightmare that Diagnostics had become. Instead, he turned on House's computer and started researching. As long as he was in charge, he'd have to prove that he deserved it. The fellows would never believe it, no matter that he'd been doing the job they were all hoping to get hired for since he'd gotten out of his residency. That meant any suggestion they came up with, he had to be on top of. Foreman tested himself, trying to come up with ideas that fit the symptoms along with ones that didn't, so that he could shoot wrong ideas down and praise the worthwhile ones, all while appearing to have the information at his fingertips. When he'd had his own team, he'd worked too hard on teaching. With this group, he didn't feel the need to do that. Putting them in their place was more important to start. Once they respected him, he could let them get the best of him occasionally without worrying that he'd lose any consideration from them through one doubtful move.

He turned when Amber stalked into the office like a vengeful spirit. "What's up? New symptom?" he asked, dropping some of his formality since Amber was alone.

It was worse than he'd thought. A new symptom, he'd been prepared for. Non-compliance--maybe he should have seen that coming, too. Foreman slumped back in House's chair. "I told her it was most likely heatstroke," he said. "Now we know it isn't. Thirteen and Kutner were supposed to explain that." He'd always had the job before of convincing patients that whatever treatment House ordered, even if it was the fifth wrong one in as many hours, was definitely the right one at that moment. If Thirteen and Kutner couldn't manage that, it was on them to learn. This wasn't his fault.