House tracked Foreman suspiciously while running the differential on Hank Wiggen.
He'd been late.
And Foreman-- Foreman was never late.
What irked House more than the lateness was that he didn't know why. What he did know for sure was that it
car trouble, as the neurologist had claimed.
House sent Chase to treat the patient.
Foreman was making himself coffee – dressed, as always,
in boring formal work clothes that he somehow managed to make look better than was objectively possible – and acting as if nothing weird was going on.
Until today, nothing weird had been going on – during the past ten days (not that House was counting) neither of them had mentioned the night they had spent together.
A spectacularly stupid idea, if there ever had been one. He didn't do that – get involved – and definitely not with people he worked with.
House had been relieved to see Foreman acting as usual at work. Despite of how much Foreman's poker face generally frustrated him, for once House was happy about it.
He was convinced that nobody had been able to tell, an impressive feat in itself considering PPTH and its nosy staff.
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