It was Foreman's first real weekend back in Princeton, and so far, all he could think was how much he hated it. He should have been in New York; Dr. Schaeffer had arranged for him to attend a conference on short notice as Mercy's representative, where he would have been able to network and find contacts. He would have come out of it with new ideas for papers or presentations. Now, the only upside was that Schaeffer would have to explain his absence, and her embarrassment wasn't nearly enough payment for the hit his career would take from her explanations.
Being stuck in Princeton with nothing better to think about was even worse. Foreman didn't want to look up his old friends--well, acquaintances, mostly. Except for Cameron and Chase, they'd all be after him to explain why he was back, and he wasn't going to put himself through that. It was embarrassing enough to move back in to his old apartment that he'd jauntily left in the spring, content to keep it in his name until the lease ran out. Without a subletter, it had just been a waste of money; now, at the very least, he had a roof over his head.
It was almost a relief when his pager went off in the middle of some television show he wasn't even watching. He checked the number and the message, grabbed his coat, and was halfway to the hospital before he even had second thoughts about House paging him when Diagnostics didn't have a patient. Stopped at a red light and fuming over wasting time, it finally hit him that House was at the hospital on a Saturday. House fought tooth and nail against showing up at work during the week; imagining him there now...
It was a prank. It had to be. Foreman slammed a hand against the steering wheel and very nearly pulled an illegal U-turn. He pulled into the next parking lot instead. He wasn't going to ignore the page--this once. House didn't usually cry wolf, although his definition of an 'emergency' didn't match the rest of the world's. Foreman sighed. He'd pulled into a fast food joint, one where they at least had decent coffee. He started the engine again and went through the drive-through, taking his time ordering, and took his sweet time driving the rest of the way to the hospital. If House really was there, Foreman wouldn't mind at all if he was pissed off at the wait. And at going hungry, when Foreman had lunch.
At the hospital, Foreman took the stairs just to add a few minutes to his time, and glanced into the Diagnostics office skeptically--but House really was there, playing with his toys and looking as annoyed as Foreman felt. He pushed open the door to the office. "What?" he asked, in his most put-upon voice.
no subject
Being stuck in Princeton with nothing better to think about was even worse. Foreman didn't want to look up his old friends--well, acquaintances, mostly. Except for Cameron and Chase, they'd all be after him to explain why he was back, and he wasn't going to put himself through that. It was embarrassing enough to move back in to his old apartment that he'd jauntily left in the spring, content to keep it in his name until the lease ran out. Without a subletter, it had just been a waste of money; now, at the very least, he had a roof over his head.
It was almost a relief when his pager went off in the middle of some television show he wasn't even watching. He checked the number and the message, grabbed his coat, and was halfway to the hospital before he even had second thoughts about House paging him when Diagnostics didn't have a patient. Stopped at a red light and fuming over wasting time, it finally hit him that House was at the hospital on a Saturday. House fought tooth and nail against showing up at work during the week; imagining him there now...
It was a prank. It had to be. Foreman slammed a hand against the steering wheel and very nearly pulled an illegal U-turn. He pulled into the next parking lot instead. He wasn't going to ignore the page--this once. House didn't usually cry wolf, although his definition of an 'emergency' didn't match the rest of the world's. Foreman sighed. He'd pulled into a fast food joint, one where they at least had decent coffee. He started the engine again and went through the drive-through, taking his time ordering, and took his sweet time driving the rest of the way to the hospital. If House really was there, Foreman wouldn't mind at all if he was pissed off at the wait. And at going hungry, when Foreman had lunch.
At the hospital, Foreman took the stairs just to add a few minutes to his time, and glanced into the Diagnostics office skeptically--but House really was there, playing with his toys and looking as annoyed as Foreman felt. He pushed open the door to the office. "What?" he asked, in his most put-upon voice.