Foreman grimaced as the elevator doors opened and he got on, pressing the button for his floor. House's version of events would probably sound more likely, since Foreman was supposedly walking away empty-handed. That didn't mean it was how all his interviews had gone. Yeah, most of them had revolved around House, and Foreman had gotten very practiced at kissing the right amount of ass, showing admiration for House's talent while carefully disparaging his methods. But that was only because his own merits hadn't been in question. Foreman wanted to make a comment about how House had lucked out getting hired by Cuddy, but since the same thing applied to him, he kept his remark behind his teeth.

"Sounds like wishful thinking," he said instead. "Hoping that no other employer ever shows an interest in me." He knew he shouldn't be poking at House's jealousy, or insecurity, or whatever the hell it was. It would only end with House getting pissed off and annoying Foreman, but it was fascinating just to know it was there. Foreman had to keep prodding to make sure it hadn't disappeared. House wanted him so much that even an imaginary interview set him off. House wanted him. Not just for sex--wanted him around. Or maybe House didn't want to break in another fellow-wrangler. Foreman didn't exactly know which it was, despite this morning's evidence, despite the half-voiced promises they'd made. He wasn't going to be reassuring as long as there was a chance that House only considered him the path of least resistance, both at work and personally.