Foreman stiffened when House approached him. He was caught between trying to carry on as normally as possible and guarding against any possible prank that House wanted to pull. Foreman wasn't interested in being the butt of House's jokes, today more than ever. He was almost relieved when the worst House did was grab away the file he'd been reading, a case that was boring on the surface--heatstroke--but that must have something that had caught House's attention.
He watched as House stalked away, carrying the files, wishing he could simply banish the last seventy-two hours from his memory. Whatever he'd felt for House hadn't started out serious. It had never been serious. Just idle speculation. The idea that, in his mind, he could make House do exactly what he wanted, could make up for all of House's stupid shit by having him obey every word Foreman said, was too hot to let go of entirely. He'd let it grow, let it take hold. Foreman swallowed and glared at House's back. The fact that it wasn't just some stupid fantasy, that he could have House at his mercy, that he had, only made it worse. He knew that every time House started spouting off one of his theories, Foreman would only have to look at him to remember the look on his face when he'd come, and he'd lose track entirely of what House was saying. With House probably ready to jump on every mistake, that would destroy his reputation faster than killing a patient would.
Instead of handing Thirteen the file, though, House swiped it away from her grasp at the last second and asked about her weekend.
Bastard. Foreman nearly rose right up out of his seat, but restrained himself at the last second. "House--" he started, but House was staring at Thirteen, waiting for some reaction. Obviously he was referring to her date, not to anything that had happened between them. Foreman clamped his mouth shut. Except that he'd just given himself away, too; Brennan glanced at him, and Taub raised an eyebrow. Volakis looked like she was trying to figure out what kind of trick House was playing and what the right answer was.
"If we're talking about our weekends, I saw a kickass movie on Saturday," Kutner piped up. "The effects were so cool--"
"We're not," Foreman said, throwing a sharp look House's way, hating himself for rolling over and reacting to the slightest provocation. But he wasn't going to just sit back while House dangled Saturday night over his head. "I know it may not seem like it, but we're actually here to treat patients."
no subject
He watched as House stalked away, carrying the files, wishing he could simply banish the last seventy-two hours from his memory. Whatever he'd felt for House hadn't started out serious. It had never been serious. Just idle speculation. The idea that, in his mind, he could make House do exactly what he wanted, could make up for all of House's stupid shit by having him obey every word Foreman said, was too hot to let go of entirely. He'd let it grow, let it take hold. Foreman swallowed and glared at House's back. The fact that it wasn't just some stupid fantasy, that he could have House at his mercy, that he had, only made it worse. He knew that every time House started spouting off one of his theories, Foreman would only have to look at him to remember the look on his face when he'd come, and he'd lose track entirely of what House was saying. With House probably ready to jump on every mistake, that would destroy his reputation faster than killing a patient would.
Instead of handing Thirteen the file, though, House swiped it away from her grasp at the last second and asked about her weekend.
Bastard. Foreman nearly rose right up out of his seat, but restrained himself at the last second. "House--" he started, but House was staring at Thirteen, waiting for some reaction. Obviously he was referring to her date, not to anything that had happened between them. Foreman clamped his mouth shut. Except that he'd just given himself away, too; Brennan glanced at him, and Taub raised an eyebrow. Volakis looked like she was trying to figure out what kind of trick House was playing and what the right answer was.
"If we're talking about our weekends, I saw a kickass movie on Saturday," Kutner piped up. "The effects were so cool--"
"We're not," Foreman said, throwing a sharp look House's way, hating himself for rolling over and reacting to the slightest provocation. But he wasn't going to just sit back while House dangled Saturday night over his head. "I know it may not seem like it, but we're actually here to treat patients."