"Cuddy hasn't blacklisted me," Foreman pointed out as they made their way through the parking lot. "She'd probably promote me if you were murdered. It's starting to sound like an incentive."
Foreman unlocked the car, and watched, amused, as House climbed into the backseat. So he got to play chauffeur. There was still no reason for any of this, and he sighed as he backed out of his parking space. At least House wasn't insisting that he ride behind him on his motorcycle. That he would have put his foot down about--he really wasn't about to put his arms around House. Or ride without a helmet.
Glancing in the rearview mirror, Foreman watched House eating his fries. He looked half like a kid eager for an outing and half like a shifty wolf worried that his bone was going to get snatched from him before he could chew out the marrow. "There's ketchup in the bag," he said, at this point resigned to losing his food. And if threats didn't work, then generosity probably would. "You might as well enjoy them. I'm not feeding you again."
Once they reached the stop sign at the hospital entrance, he checked the mirror again. House was appreciating the food even more than Foreman had, and he'd been showing off on purpose. Watching House's expression was always an experience, but even more when he didn't seem to know he was being watched. A horn honked behind them, and Foreman jerked his eyes away from the mirror. "House. Navigate."
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timeasmymeasure
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Date: 2008-10-21 06:59 am (UTC)Foreman unlocked the car, and watched, amused, as House climbed into the backseat. So he got to play chauffeur. There was still no reason for any of this, and he sighed as he backed out of his parking space. At least House wasn't insisting that he ride behind him on his motorcycle. That he would have put his foot down about--he really wasn't about to put his arms around House. Or ride without a helmet.
Glancing in the rearview mirror, Foreman watched House eating his fries. He looked half like a kid eager for an outing and half like a shifty wolf worried that his bone was going to get snatched from him before he could chew out the marrow. "There's ketchup in the bag," he said, at this point resigned to losing his food. And if threats didn't work, then generosity probably would. "You might as well enjoy them. I'm not feeding you again."
Once they reached the stop sign at the hospital entrance, he checked the mirror again. House was appreciating the food even more than Foreman had, and he'd been showing off on purpose. Watching House's expression was always an experience, but even more when he didn't seem to know he was being watched. A horn honked behind them, and Foreman jerked his eyes away from the mirror. "House. Navigate."