Foreman followed Amber out into the hall. There was nothing to do now but go and get Brennan kicked off the case for good, and continue on into the differential. He shoved his hands into his pockets and watched his feet. Amber had been pissed off from the moment she'd found out he had any sort of authority over her at all, but he'd thought that was only because he might be taking up one of the fellowship slots. Maybe--Foreman suspected that if House wanted three of them, he'd end up getting three. But he glanced at her as he paced her down the hall to the elevator. "Apparently I can't," he said. "You've been pissed off every time I ask you for something. It's not just one patient. You don't trust me." He was over being angry for the moment, although he could feel the repressed boil, down under guard where he'd locked it away. "There comes a point when that's not about me being the boss. You don't trust me." But she'd already dismissed him when he'd explained that. Foreman sighed.

Porphyria sounded possible, but Foreman shrugged, not really caring about shutting her down. "No purple urine. No photosensitivity." What did it matter? House was back. He was probably hearing the whole stupid story from the other candidates right now. It'd come as no shock to Foreman if Amber listened to House right after she'd rejected everything Foreman had been saying for the last two days. "Thallium poisoning fits better."