House, of course, wouldn't focus on the important parts of what she'd said, about how she'd kick ass and take names in their department; it wasn't news, but sometimes it seemed that what House least cared about was the quality of their work. Instead he'd picked up on her disquiet at his remark about Eric's blackness, laying on thick his over-caring act, and he was just about the last person Amber wanted to discuss this with.
Amber shut her locker door with a solid clack, not quite slamming it. "No," she said, loud, insistent. "He hasn't." He hadn't, not really. Not with her precisely. He'd basically accused her family of being racist, without ever having met them, but he hadn't said anything about her, and the only reason the subject came up was that he'd been invited to their home. And he'd been right in that it was going to be awkward, and maybe it was a commentary on her-- how had he known it'd been awkward? he'd guessed from her own attitude?-- or maybe he did have a chip on his shoulder the size of Virginia, assuming he’d be looked down upon wherever he went.
No. Fuck this. She was Amber Volakis and she did not get bogged down by stupid insecurities like this. She was better than this shit. Amber whirled to face him, hands on her hips. "What do you want, House?" She'd wipe that self-satisfied grin off his mug. "Insider information about me and Eric? Yes I know he was caught for stealing, yes we've talked about him being black, and yes I love him." Amber narrowed her eyes, determined, and took a couple of steps towards him, raising her chin. "Happy? Or maybe you just want a fight and see me upset. Would that be good enough for you? I told you, House, I'm the best, and I'll give you whatever the fuck it is you want." Going into the offensive flooded her with thrilled excitement, like she’d just pressed down hard on the accelerator.
no subject
Amber shut her locker door with a solid clack, not quite slamming it. "No," she said, loud, insistent. "He hasn't." He hadn't, not really. Not with her precisely. He'd basically accused her family of being racist, without ever having met them, but he hadn't said anything about her, and the only reason the subject came up was that he'd been invited to their home. And he'd been right in that it was going to be awkward, and maybe it was a commentary on her-- how had he known it'd been awkward? he'd guessed from her own attitude?-- or maybe he did have a chip on his shoulder the size of Virginia, assuming he’d be looked down upon wherever he went.
No. Fuck this. She was Amber Volakis and she did not get bogged down by stupid insecurities like this. She was better than this shit. Amber whirled to face him, hands on her hips. "What do you want, House?" She'd wipe that self-satisfied grin off his mug. "Insider information about me and Eric? Yes I know he was caught for stealing, yes we've talked about him being black, and yes I love him." Amber narrowed her eyes, determined, and took a couple of steps towards him, raising her chin. "Happy? Or maybe you just want a fight and see me upset. Would that be good enough for you? I told you, House, I'm the best, and I'll give you whatever the fuck it is you want." Going into the offensive flooded her with thrilled excitement, like she’d just pressed down hard on the accelerator.