Foreman set his jaw at House's words. He was right. For a second, just by showing House up in a tiny way, he'd forgotten that he was supposed to hate working here. He wasn't going to give House the satisfaction, though. He forced himself to think how ridiculous this was--he was acting like Chase; he'd actually had a brief thought of having the epiphany that would make House's eyebrows rise in surprised respect. He was not doing this for the praise--certainly not for House's praise--but it felt good to know, at least, that he was lightyears ahead of House's new fellows. He let out a short chuckle. "Yeah," he said, and turned pointedly back to the chart. "You're right."
Ignoring House felt like old times, and Foreman let his satisfaction show. The patient's history wasn't very exciting, but when he saw the presenting symptoms, his eyes widened. This was interesting. He'd had the chance to run all of one case with his own team at Mercy before he'd been dumped back into the job market. The glow of satisfaction that came from being right--from recognizing the pattern and seeing his treatment work--he enjoyed that, and he'd missed that, but he'd missed the mystery, too, and House's patient was a lot more mysterious than his had been. Foreman gave a thoughtful hmm and turned the page, reaching out for his coffee.
His hand swiped through thin air. He frowned briefly and looked up. His mug was on the opposite side of the table, on his right where he never would have set it, teetering on the edge. Foreman picked it up, and it was noticeably emptier than it had been. House watched him with his 'innocent' look plastered on, and Foreman rolled his eyes. His first thought was to dump the rest of the coffee down the sink: who knew what else House had done to it besides drink some? But if he wanted House to respect his food--yeah, right, his brain supplied--he'd just finish it himself and damn the consequences. Neither way would work, though; both would just encourage House.
"Sorry," he said, forcing himself to sound civil and succeeding about as much as House's innocence had. "I was away so long, I forgot you had problems getting around." He got up, filled House's favourite red mug at the coffee counter, and then set it in front of him. "Wouldn't want you to strain yourself." Raising an eyebrow, he held House's gaze while he finished his own coffee standing over him--thankfully, it still tasted the way it should.
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timeasmymeasure
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Date: 2008-09-30 02:44 pm (UTC)Ignoring House felt like old times, and Foreman let his satisfaction show. The patient's history wasn't very exciting, but when he saw the presenting symptoms, his eyes widened. This was interesting. He'd had the chance to run all of one case with his own team at Mercy before he'd been dumped back into the job market. The glow of satisfaction that came from being right--from recognizing the pattern and seeing his treatment work--he enjoyed that, and he'd missed that, but he'd missed the mystery, too, and House's patient was a lot more mysterious than his had been. Foreman gave a thoughtful hmm and turned the page, reaching out for his coffee.
His hand swiped through thin air. He frowned briefly and looked up. His mug was on the opposite side of the table, on his right where he never would have set it, teetering on the edge. Foreman picked it up, and it was noticeably emptier than it had been. House watched him with his 'innocent' look plastered on, and Foreman rolled his eyes. His first thought was to dump the rest of the coffee down the sink: who knew what else House had done to it besides drink some? But if he wanted House to respect his food--yeah, right, his brain supplied--he'd just finish it himself and damn the consequences. Neither way would work, though; both would just encourage House.
"Sorry," he said, forcing himself to sound civil and succeeding about as much as House's innocence had. "I was away so long, I forgot you had problems getting around." He got up, filled House's favourite red mug at the coffee counter, and then set it in front of him. "Wouldn't want you to strain yourself." Raising an eyebrow, he held House's gaze while he finished his own coffee standing over him--thankfully, it still tasted the way it should.