Foreman found the restaurant without any trouble, even managed to get a great parking space near the door, and made his way inside. He gave his name to the hostess and she led him across the room to a booth. Marty stood up, grinning, to give him a quick hug and pound on the back. "I got here a little early," he said. "Ordered some wine, if you don't mind."
"Sure." Foreman smiled back and took a seat. This was already going better than sitting at home on a Saturday night and stewing over House. "How's it going?"
"Great. I never counted on being back East this soon, but it's great to see you," Marty said. "Makes up for travelling during the holidays."
"How is...?" Foreman reached for Marty's wife's name, knowing that he'd seen it in an email, but that had been months ago. He couldn't help glancing at Marty's left hand and seeing that he didn't wear a ring, and he wondered if Marty's roving eye had been curbed by his vows.
"Susan," Marty supplied, with a grin. "She's wonderful. But her father..." He laughed. "I don't think either of us counted on having to make so much small talk."
The waiter brought over a bottle of wine, pouring an inch for each of them. Foreman tasted it and raised his eyebrows, impressed. Marty nodded to the waiter, who filled their glasses, told them about the specials, and then left them with their menus.
"I heard about what happened at Mercy," Marty said, setting his wine glass down and shaking his head. "I'm sorry. It wasn't your fault. You would have done great things there."
Foreman nodded. He didn't particularly want to talk about it, and he couldn't help remembering what House had said the last time Marty had forgiven him for a medical decision. He thinks what will be, will be. I think that what you and I do matters. It wasn't his fault--he'd made the right call--but he had a feeling Marty was trying to absolve him for not following protocol, instead of telling him that he'd made the right decisions. "Thanks," he said. "I guess I landed on my feet."
"Back at Princeton-Plainsboro?" Marty was trying far too hard not to sound doubtful, and it set Foreman's teeth on edge.
"I like my work there."
"Of course." Marty waved the subject away and picked up his menu. "So, what about the rest of your life? Seeing anyone?"
Foreman chuckled, glad that he had the menu to focus on. "It's...complicated," he said. He wasn't worried about telling Marty he was with a man--Marty had known and liked Nathan for the year or so Foreman had been with him in California--but to tell him anything about House would take more than a dinner to explain. Foreman was damn glad he could stick to generalities and leave House out of it entirely.
no subject
"Sure." Foreman smiled back and took a seat. This was already going better than sitting at home on a Saturday night and stewing over House. "How's it going?"
"Great. I never counted on being back East this soon, but it's great to see you," Marty said. "Makes up for travelling during the holidays."
"How is...?" Foreman reached for Marty's wife's name, knowing that he'd seen it in an email, but that had been months ago. He couldn't help glancing at Marty's left hand and seeing that he didn't wear a ring, and he wondered if Marty's roving eye had been curbed by his vows.
"Susan," Marty supplied, with a grin. "She's wonderful. But her father..." He laughed. "I don't think either of us counted on having to make so much small talk."
The waiter brought over a bottle of wine, pouring an inch for each of them. Foreman tasted it and raised his eyebrows, impressed. Marty nodded to the waiter, who filled their glasses, told them about the specials, and then left them with their menus.
"I heard about what happened at Mercy," Marty said, setting his wine glass down and shaking his head. "I'm sorry. It wasn't your fault. You would have done great things there."
Foreman nodded. He didn't particularly want to talk about it, and he couldn't help remembering what House had said the last time Marty had forgiven him for a medical decision. He thinks what will be, will be. I think that what you and I do matters. It wasn't his fault--he'd made the right call--but he had a feeling Marty was trying to absolve him for not following protocol, instead of telling him that he'd made the right decisions. "Thanks," he said. "I guess I landed on my feet."
"Back at Princeton-Plainsboro?" Marty was trying far too hard not to sound doubtful, and it set Foreman's teeth on edge.
"I like my work there."
"Of course." Marty waved the subject away and picked up his menu. "So, what about the rest of your life? Seeing anyone?"
Foreman chuckled, glad that he had the menu to focus on. "It's...complicated," he said. He wasn't worried about telling Marty he was with a man--Marty had known and liked Nathan for the year or so Foreman had been with him in California--but to tell him anything about House would take more than a dinner to explain. Foreman was damn glad he could stick to generalities and leave House out of it entirely.