Amber's reluctant, pouting response made Foreman smile all the more. It sounded like all he had to do was convince her. She wanted to spend time with him. Foreman was ready to be persuasive just because of that. "I can write you a doctor's note," he said, chuckling when she buried her face against his neck. Her breath tickled. He knew it was the wrong thing to say, again. He shouldn't seem so eager. But she drew it out of him so easily that he didn't notice until he'd already spoken.
What she said next, though, stopped Foreman short. "You work for House?" he blurted. He knew House was toying with a bunch of idiots, making promises and then firing them on a whim, working his way down to his usual three fellows, but Foreman couldn't believe Amber was one of them. Everything about her shouted that she was competent, dedicated, intelligent. And she wanted to play games with House to get hired? He'd convinced himself that only idiots could possibly want to go through that kind of humiliation. Foreman didn't even hear the rest of what she said, he was too busy reliving last spring. When he'd told House he wasn't interested in playing God with patients' lives. That he was better than that. Yeah, he was back now, but that was against his will and at least in a supervisory role. Hearing that Amber was part of that whole farce dropped his opinion of her on the spot, and he didn't want it to. He didn't want to believe that she'd put up with House's bullshit, not when she was so straightforward with him. But apparently she did.
Worse, Foreman would walk in on Monday morning as her boss--or nearly. He might not have hiring and firing power over her, but he'd be the one doing employee evaluations, keeping track of her work, and making sure she didn't think House's orders put her above the hospital's interests or the law. Christ, he couldn't do that. Not and keep seeing her. And Foreman wanted to keep seeing her. He felt dazed, realizing that, realizing that last night might be the only time they could ever spend together socially. He took her hands from his chest and set them aside, turning to sit up. "Yeah," he said, distracted. "I don't want to get in your way. I'd better get going."
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What she said next, though, stopped Foreman short. "You work for House?" he blurted. He knew House was toying with a bunch of idiots, making promises and then firing them on a whim, working his way down to his usual three fellows, but Foreman couldn't believe Amber was one of them. Everything about her shouted that she was competent, dedicated, intelligent. And she wanted to play games with House to get hired? He'd convinced himself that only idiots could possibly want to go through that kind of humiliation. Foreman didn't even hear the rest of what she said, he was too busy reliving last spring. When he'd told House he wasn't interested in playing God with patients' lives. That he was better than that. Yeah, he was back now, but that was against his will and at least in a supervisory role. Hearing that Amber was part of that whole farce dropped his opinion of her on the spot, and he didn't want it to. He didn't want to believe that she'd put up with House's bullshit, not when she was so straightforward with him. But apparently she did.
Worse, Foreman would walk in on Monday morning as her boss--or nearly. He might not have hiring and firing power over her, but he'd be the one doing employee evaluations, keeping track of her work, and making sure she didn't think House's orders put her above the hospital's interests or the law. Christ, he couldn't do that. Not and keep seeing her. And Foreman wanted to keep seeing her. He felt dazed, realizing that, realizing that last night might be the only time they could ever spend together socially. He took her hands from his chest and set them aside, turning to sit up. "Yeah," he said, distracted. "I don't want to get in your way. I'd better get going."