Foreman didn't fight him or make him try to stay when he headed for the living room, and that alone made House a little suspicious. He figured Foreman would be as uncooperative as possible, but there was no way he was going to go back and grovel. House took a seat on the couch, finding the remote for the TV and began flipping through channels. He stopped on a channel that was showing an ATV flying through the air, its owner making a spectacular, bone-crushing landing a few feet away. Nice. Foreman came in a few minutes later, carrying a drink and plate for himself. As he suspected. Bastard.
House eyed Foreman as he sat down, trying to decide what to do. Foreman seemed comfortable. Too comfortable. Like he was ready for House's next move. Like he'd been planning this out and waiting for House to prove him right. He thought about what Foreman would anticipate. Probably a way for him to stay put and have all the food he wanted. Easiest way would be to steal it off Foreman's plate. That wasn't hard to figure out. There were other ways, but it would be harder, and riskier. But they might be worth it just for the surprise factor. He pretended to watch TV for a couple minutes, fussing with his cane, laying it across his lap and rolling it lightly over his legs, biding his time.
He had to give himself credit; the move was quick and aimed perfectly. With one jab to the edge of Foreman's plate, House tilted it just enough to make Foreman's stir fry spill out onto his clothes, part of the couch, some on the floor. Some of it was still all right, by Foreman's standards, but House doubted that Foreman would be throwing down food that had sat on the floor, and he'd have to get up to get more. And this time he'd have a free hand.
no subject
House eyed Foreman as he sat down, trying to decide what to do. Foreman seemed comfortable. Too comfortable. Like he was ready for House's next move. Like he'd been planning this out and waiting for House to prove him right. He thought about what Foreman would anticipate. Probably a way for him to stay put and have all the food he wanted. Easiest way would be to steal it off Foreman's plate. That wasn't hard to figure out. There were other ways, but it would be harder, and riskier. But they might be worth it just for the surprise factor. He pretended to watch TV for a couple minutes, fussing with his cane, laying it across his lap and rolling it lightly over his legs, biding his time.
He had to give himself credit; the move was quick and aimed perfectly. With one jab to the edge of Foreman's plate, House tilted it just enough to make Foreman's stir fry spill out onto his clothes, part of the couch, some on the floor. Some of it was still all right, by Foreman's standards, but House doubted that Foreman would be throwing down food that had sat on the floor, and he'd have to get up to get more. And this time he'd have a free hand.