Amber's excitement, for a brief second, made Foreman think he'd at least managed to give her what she wanted. All that sparkling triumph pierced his heart; she should be looking like that at him. She had been, only a few days ago. Including him in her enthusiasm. Maybe he was pathetic, but it was what he'd hoped to see. She could take it to House and denounce Brennan in front of the rest of them. Foreman didn't know what Brennan had done--screwed up, maybe, as part of seeing what he wanted to see--but it didn't matter. House would be happy to have Amber around if he knew she'd double-check everyone whether he was around or not. All House wanted was to have employees who thought the job was everything. Who needed a fucking personal life?

He was taken aback when Amber seemed to remember all over again that she was angry at him. No gift was good enough for her. He'd given her the opportunity that might put her ahead of the others in House's little rat race but she still thought he had ulterior motives. Foreman was too tired, and yeah, too hurt, to care about what she did or why she was angry. "You don't want to show him up?" he asked. His voice was quiet, heavy-hearted. He'd be surprised if he could bother himself to feel anything besides his own dejection. "Fine. I'll do it. You might as well start thinking about what she has that's relapsing and remitting. Unless that's too much for me to ask."