As predicted, the highway thickened with cars before long; it was either slow down or crash. Amber wasn't that desperate to get out of Thanksgiving dinner-- and she'd worked in hospitals over holidays enough times to appreciate how much reckless drivers sucked-- so she softened her hold over the gas pedal, falling back to fourth gear.

"Should've sent him a hooker this morning, if we wanted to get out early," Amber muttered in reply. Then he wouldn't have left the house and they could've exited the hospital whenever they liked. That wasn't a bad idea, actually. She'd save it for the next time she needed to keep House away.

But when Eric's reaction was slow in coming, she looked at him: his eyes were more closed than open and he'd slumped towards the window. Amber knew that slack-jawed look. She snorted. She was just as overworked as him and under far more pressure, but she was able to stay awake just fine. "Go to sleep," she said. Amber didn't need him for the drive and the better rested he was before reaching her family, the better.