House watched Foreman stand and leave the room, guessing that he was headed to loot through his office for the patient's file. It wouldn't take him long, and House had no qualms about him finding it. He just figured he might as well take every opportunity he had in order to poke Foreman's buttons, even just a little. It was worth it for the entertainment value alone.
His fingertips tapped the table, and he thought again about pouring a cup of coffee, but his eyes fell on Foreman's abandoned mug, and he recognized another chance at button-pushing, not to mention urge-satisfying. He had few reservations when it came to personal boundaries, and, in his book, coffee was not off limits. Foreman would either notice or he wouldn't--he probably would; House hoped he would--and, if he noticed, he would either push it away with disgust, and House would happily enjoy the rest of it, or he'd finish it himself in an attempt to prove that House couldn't rattle him. Either way, House would get enough of what he wanted, always an important goal.
He reached for the mug, stealing a glance at his office door, and brought it to his lips. He closed his lips around the opposite side of the rim, filling his mouth with coffee, then set the mug back on the table. As he swallowed the mouthful, still enjoying the lingering warmth and flavor, he pushed the mug slightly to the left, nearer the edge of the table, curious to see what Foreman would do once he noticed. He schooled his expression into a typical one--nothing too innocent, or Foreman would suspect something amiss too fast--and propped his elbows on the table, leaning forward, as Foreman returned to the room.
"Not meant to be subtle," he replied, watching Foreman open the file. If he didn't know better, he'd think Foreman was doing his best to ignore him. He grinned to himself. "I'm betting you'd know the new ones, too. You know this place." He amped up the confidence in his voice, hoping to get a rise out of Foreman, even if he was wrong. "You like that you know it."
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timeasmymeasure
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Date: 2008-09-30 09:22 am (UTC)His fingertips tapped the table, and he thought again about pouring a cup of coffee, but his eyes fell on Foreman's abandoned mug, and he recognized another chance at button-pushing, not to mention urge-satisfying. He had few reservations when it came to personal boundaries, and, in his book, coffee was not off limits. Foreman would either notice or he wouldn't--he probably would; House hoped he would--and, if he noticed, he would either push it away with disgust, and House would happily enjoy the rest of it, or he'd finish it himself in an attempt to prove that House couldn't rattle him. Either way, House would get enough of what he wanted, always an important goal.
He reached for the mug, stealing a glance at his office door, and brought it to his lips. He closed his lips around the opposite side of the rim, filling his mouth with coffee, then set the mug back on the table. As he swallowed the mouthful, still enjoying the lingering warmth and flavor, he pushed the mug slightly to the left, nearer the edge of the table, curious to see what Foreman would do once he noticed. He schooled his expression into a typical one--nothing too innocent, or Foreman would suspect something amiss too fast--and propped his elbows on the table, leaning forward, as Foreman returned to the room.
"Not meant to be subtle," he replied, watching Foreman open the file. If he didn't know better, he'd think Foreman was doing his best to ignore him. He grinned to himself. "I'm betting you'd know the new ones, too. You know this place." He amped up the confidence in his voice, hoping to get a rise out of Foreman, even if he was wrong. "You like that you know it."