Foreman exhaled slowly when House kept right on insisting that Thirteen give up the details of her weekend. She couldn't be totally oblivious, and along with keeping his own life out of bounds, Foreman hoped that his role in breaking into Thirteen's place--and possibly outing her, if he was right about her bisexuality--wouldn't come to light. When House turned to look over his shoulder at him, eyes bright, a smarmy, phony smile plastered on his face, Foreman stared back evenly. He didn't care if his irritation showed to the fellows. He hoped that House could see everything he was thinking: that he'd been the one in control on Saturday, that he'd made things happen, and that no matter what House said now, he couldn't go back in time and change that.
Thirteen barely glanced up at the folder House was waving above her face. Good for her. Foreman waited for the other shoe to drop, for the realization to cross her face when she figured out that House knew too much to just be making shots in the dark. He felt an urge to rescue her; she might have signed up for this, but she didn't deserve House's ridicule any more than Foreman did. The sooner they moved off this topic, the better. None of the cases in the stack House was carrying could possibly be interesting in the least, if House was this willing to play games rather than get to the differential--the heatstroke might actually be the best of the bunch. Foreman glanced away, then back at House, debating just how dangerous he wanted to make this game. The only way to make House shut the hell up was to call his bluff, and Foreman had no idea if he was actually bluffing. After House had walked out on him, though, not even responding to Foreman's accusation that he was too chickenshit to deal with what he'd done...yeah, Foreman had the idea that House wouldn't care to have the tables turned on him.
"You don't have to answer that, you know." Foreman raised an eyebrow at Thirteen, who so far had done a better job than he had at staying inscrutable. Practice, he supposed--practice that he was going to be getting plenty of in the next little while. "They're not that stupid, House," he added, keeping a cap on his irritation and making his voice as bland as he could. "They might learn that you're not the only one who can ask personal questions." He paused, and put on his own version of House's stupid 'innocent' look, pretending to be suddenly struck with confusion. "Like...how did you spend your weekend?"
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Date: 2008-12-02 10:36 am (UTC)Thirteen barely glanced up at the folder House was waving above her face. Good for her. Foreman waited for the other shoe to drop, for the realization to cross her face when she figured out that House knew too much to just be making shots in the dark. He felt an urge to rescue her; she might have signed up for this, but she didn't deserve House's ridicule any more than Foreman did. The sooner they moved off this topic, the better. None of the cases in the stack House was carrying could possibly be interesting in the least, if House was this willing to play games rather than get to the differential--the heatstroke might actually be the best of the bunch. Foreman glanced away, then back at House, debating just how dangerous he wanted to make this game. The only way to make House shut the hell up was to call his bluff, and Foreman had no idea if he was actually bluffing. After House had walked out on him, though, not even responding to Foreman's accusation that he was too chickenshit to deal with what he'd done...yeah, Foreman had the idea that House wouldn't care to have the tables turned on him.
"You don't have to answer that, you know." Foreman raised an eyebrow at Thirteen, who so far had done a better job than he had at staying inscrutable. Practice, he supposed--practice that he was going to be getting plenty of in the next little while. "They're not that stupid, House," he added, keeping a cap on his irritation and making his voice as bland as he could. "They might learn that you're not the only one who can ask personal questions." He paused, and put on his own version of House's stupid 'innocent' look, pretending to be suddenly struck with confusion. "Like...how did you spend your weekend?"