Foreman barely had time to grab his briefcase and sports bag before letting the door slam shut behind him and following House out into the street. It didn't leave him with any hands free to attack House even if he wanted to, which--no. Foreman wasn't going to do anything ridiculous in the middle of the street. They'd gotten past that stage, thankfully without getting caught, and he was pretty sure House agreed with him that public displays were off-limits. "Just for that, you're driving? Sounds like you want me to," he said, grinning. Foreman didn't mind making a few comments when no one was around, but he wasn't going to do anything more than that. Besides, nothing more was needed. House turned away, scowling, but that didn't hide the redness in his ears. Foreman chuckled. The mention alone was enough to make House remember, and react. If the only retaliation House was going to make was insisting on driving his car, Foreman could handle it. It was hardly an equal trade-off, his car for House's clothes--House could do a lot more damage, for one--but it wasn't like he was a complete maniac behind the wheel, either.
Tugging open the passenger side door, Foreman dropped his things on the backseat, next to House's backpack. It was uncomfortable seeing House in the driver's seat. The same kind of discomfort he'd felt at first when House had annexed Foreman's side of his own bed. At the same time, it was becoming almost familiar, both the uneasiness and the gradual relaxation. He might have to adjust his seat and his mirrors back to their original positions. If that was the worst that happened, he could force himself not to give House the satisfaction of a reaction. He climbed in, closed the door, and pulled on his seatbelt. Foreman doubted House, given the opportunity, was going to take the direct route. This was probably going to be one more exercise in delay.
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timeasmymeasure
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Date: 2009-03-12 09:31 pm (UTC)Tugging open the passenger side door, Foreman dropped his things on the backseat, next to House's backpack. It was uncomfortable seeing House in the driver's seat. The same kind of discomfort he'd felt at first when House had annexed Foreman's side of his own bed. At the same time, it was becoming almost familiar, both the uneasiness and the gradual relaxation. He might have to adjust his seat and his mirrors back to their original positions. If that was the worst that happened, he could force himself not to give House the satisfaction of a reaction. He climbed in, closed the door, and pulled on his seatbelt. Foreman doubted House, given the opportunity, was going to take the direct route. This was probably going to be one more exercise in delay.