At this rate, the day would be over soon, and Foreman was all too glad of that. Some days, he didn't mind jousting with House, doing his best to argue his theories down, always looking for a way to undermine him. That was what House wanted him around for, anyway. Ever since the naegleria, House had made it clear that Foreman was grist for the mill and not much more. Foreman remembered House telling him that he wanted all of Foreman's self-respect to hang on the job, and for the last year and a half, it had.
Now, he wasn't so sure. If he let his career define him, then he was going to end up disappointed--already had. Getting fired wasn't nearly as bad as nearly dying, but it did make him want to reevaluate his life. Was that all he was to House? A foil? Someone to spar with? If House's increasingly pointed and personal questions actually meant anything, Foreman might think that no, there really was more there. And he was curious. Damn House, but he'd done this to Foreman, made him question everyone's motivations, made him wonder. If Foreman turned those skills on House, House would have no one to blame but himself.
The door at the top of the lecture theatre opened, interrupting his thoughts. A man in a suit walked in, asking for House. Foreman eyed the man suspiciously, before turning to House with his eyebrows raised. This didn't quite have the feeling of one of House's stunts--if Foreman expected anything along those lines, it would be a guy asking after him, not House--but the man looked mostly unconcerned with anyone's reactions, and House seemed just as bewildered as the rest of them. Foreman could imagine a dozen different reasons why a guy in a suit would be after House. He figured they'd all find out a minute after the 'private consultation' what the reason was; House was the sort who just couldn't resist sharing.
Foreman stifled a smirk when House tossed a casual you're in charge over his shoulder. He couldn't help that his mind jumped straight into the gutter. "I know," he said, perfectly assured that House would jump there too.
He cut off the fellows' speculations once House was out of the room. "Don't think we're just going to be treating 'speed racer girl'," he said, leaning lightly on the nickname House had already assigned her. "You'll each be the primary on the cases you presented, and you'll report to me before you jump to any conclusions that could get somebody killed."
Foreman glared down their grumbles. Brennan was puffed up over having the case House was actually interested in. Cole looked sulky, but the others mainly accepted Foreman's orders, although Volakis would probably try to ditch her work on one of the others if she could find a way to do it. But Foreman was enforcing his authority, and happy to do it. At least there'd be some proof for Cuddy that his job was necessary.
He glanced over at the closed door, catching a glimpse of the suited guy's back. Foreman couldn't quite tamp down his curiosity--he wanted to know what the hell House was up to. It wasn't his business, and he shouldn't care, but he did. Fortunately, he wouldn't have to say a word when House walked back into the hall. As soon as House had finished getting half a dozen possible different diagnoses for speed racer girl--all of them so remote as to be ridiculous--Kutner immediately piped up, "So, do you, like, know this guy?"
![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
timeasmymeasure
no subject
Date: 2008-12-03 09:43 am (UTC)Now, he wasn't so sure. If he let his career define him, then he was going to end up disappointed--already had. Getting fired wasn't nearly as bad as nearly dying, but it did make him want to reevaluate his life. Was that all he was to House? A foil? Someone to spar with? If House's increasingly pointed and personal questions actually meant anything, Foreman might think that no, there really was more there. And he was curious. Damn House, but he'd done this to Foreman, made him question everyone's motivations, made him wonder. If Foreman turned those skills on House, House would have no one to blame but himself.
The door at the top of the lecture theatre opened, interrupting his thoughts. A man in a suit walked in, asking for House. Foreman eyed the man suspiciously, before turning to House with his eyebrows raised. This didn't quite have the feeling of one of House's stunts--if Foreman expected anything along those lines, it would be a guy asking after him, not House--but the man looked mostly unconcerned with anyone's reactions, and House seemed just as bewildered as the rest of them. Foreman could imagine a dozen different reasons why a guy in a suit would be after House. He figured they'd all find out a minute after the 'private consultation' what the reason was; House was the sort who just couldn't resist sharing.
Foreman stifled a smirk when House tossed a casual you're in charge over his shoulder. He couldn't help that his mind jumped straight into the gutter. "I know," he said, perfectly assured that House would jump there too.
He cut off the fellows' speculations once House was out of the room. "Don't think we're just going to be treating 'speed racer girl'," he said, leaning lightly on the nickname House had already assigned her. "You'll each be the primary on the cases you presented, and you'll report to me before you jump to any conclusions that could get somebody killed."
Foreman glared down their grumbles. Brennan was puffed up over having the case House was actually interested in. Cole looked sulky, but the others mainly accepted Foreman's orders, although Volakis would probably try to ditch her work on one of the others if she could find a way to do it. But Foreman was enforcing his authority, and happy to do it. At least there'd be some proof for Cuddy that his job was necessary.
He glanced over at the closed door, catching a glimpse of the suited guy's back. Foreman couldn't quite tamp down his curiosity--he wanted to know what the hell House was up to. It wasn't his business, and he shouldn't care, but he did. Fortunately, he wouldn't have to say a word when House walked back into the hall. As soon as House had finished getting half a dozen possible different diagnoses for speed racer girl--all of them so remote as to be ridiculous--Kutner immediately piped up, "So, do you, like, know this guy?"