Date: 2008-10-21 06:09 am (UTC)
Foreman almost choked on his next bite when House practically took his belt off as well as grabbing the rest of his lunch out of his hands. Damn, he was fast when he wanted to be--Foreman should have remembered that was always, when there was food in the equation. He swallowed the last of the burger hastily, even though he wasn't quite finished chewing. He'd been hungrier than he thought, and now House had possession of the rest of his food. Bastard.

"Page 911 too often and next time I'll tell Wilson I think you might have jaundice," he retorted. Now there was a threat: it was probably even likely. House might be anemic, too, and of course Wilson would badger him into a series humiliating tests. Get him into a backless hospital gown and his new team would quickly find out he was human. Sort of.

Foreman followed House out of the office, angry at himself for feeling like one very lonely gosling. He stepped a bit faster so that he was walking at House's side. Questions obviously weren't going to get him anywhere. He eyed the paper bag House was clutching as if it held his next month's supply of Vicodin rather than a few mushy fries and an apple fritter. If he got a chance, he was grabbing it right back. "Navigate me out of Princeton and you'll be limping home," he said, when they got on the elevator.
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Wooed For Years

May 2009

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