Foreman stayed as close as he dared to House's hunch-shouldered walk, not bothering to say more since House had only scowled and ignored him. The warmth inside the hospital was welcome, burning in the tips of his ears. Foreman looked up when they got to the elevators, as if he just happened to be meeting House as they went up to Diagnostics. He didn't really have a plan. He didn't really know what to do. House was so certain that everybody lied that he couldn't accept what Foreman was telling him. And by now, his intentions had gotten wrapped up in his pride. Five more minutes or ten didn't matter. House would get his helmet, Foreman would hand over his keys, and that would be the end of it. For tonight. Tomorrow, Dr. Terzi would begin working for House, and Foreman would have to soothe ruffled egos and make sure she wasn't a disaster as a doctor, and probably watch her flirt with House. It bothered him all over again that it bothered him, but what the hell was he supposed to do about it?

"Thought I'd give you a chance to even the score," Foreman said when House asked if he was going to follow him. He was almost surprised House didn't try for a futile, painful effort on the stairs, the way he'd been acting. Foreman waited for House to get on the elevator before following him. He stood in the corner, resting his hands back on the railing, and watched the floor indicator as if he wasn't curious at all about whether House would take him up on one more challenge. He was relaxed, confident, certain that House would huddle in his own corner of the elevator with keep away radiating off his body language. Foreman wasn't going to attack him--definition of insanity, to expect a different result this time. But he was just as certain that House would never make a move, no matter how Foreman taunted him. He shrugged. "It's too damn bad you're letting me win."